Syria in World War I: Politics Economy and Society

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Syria in World War I

World War I quickly escalated from a European war into a global conflict that would bring about fundamental changes in the Middle East, Africa, Asia, and the Americas. Its end signaled the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, which had controlled most of the Arab Middle East. Over the wartime period, millions of people across the empire died as a result of warfare, epidemics, famines, and massacres. However, the entry into the war of the Ottoman leaders was not just a response to a life-or-death struggle but, rather, an opportunity to transform the empire into a new type of state. Syria in World War I brings together leading scholars working with original Turkish, Arabic, Armenian, and German sources to present a comprehensive examination of this key period in Syria’s history and to demonstrate how the war represented a radical break from the past for the Syrian lands, which underwent crucial political, economic, social, and cultural transformations. It contextualizes various facets of the then Unionist ruler of Syria, Djemal Pasha, as well as exploring the impact of the Ottoman leaders’ divergent policies on the Syrian lands and people, which would undergo a series of political, economic, and ecological catastrophes whose traces are still evident in the region’s collective memory. Introducing a significant body of new information and considerably expanding the parameters of current debates, Syria in World War I is of key interest to students and scholars of Middle East history, the history of the late Ottoman Empire, and the history of World War I. M. Talha Çiçek is an assistant professor at Istanbul Medeniyet University, Turkey, and the author of War and State Formation in Syria (Routledge, 2014).

SOAS/Routledge Studies on the Middle East Edited by Benjamin C. Fortna, SOAS, University of London, and Ulrike Freitag, Zentrum Moderner Orient & Freie Universität, Berlin, Germany

This series features the latest disciplinary approaches to Middle Eastern Studies. It covers the Social Sciences and the Humanities in both the pre-modern and modern periods of the region. While primarily interested in publishing single-authored studies, the series is also open to edited volumes on innovative topics, as well as textbooks and reference works.  1 Islamic Nationhood and Colonial Indonesia The umma below the winds Michael Francis Laffan  2 Russian–Muslim Confrontation in the Caucasus Alternative visions of the conflict between Imam Shamil and the Russians, 1830–1859 Edited and translated by Thomas Sanders, Ernest Tucker and Gary Hamburg  3 Late Ottoman Society The intellectual legacy Edited by Elisabeth Özdalga  4 Iraqi Arab Nationalism Authoritarian, totalitarian and pro-Fascist inclinations, 1932–1941 Peter Wien  5  Medieval Arabic Historiography Authors as actors Konrad Hirschler

 6 Ottoman Administration of Iraq, 1890–1908 Gökhan Çetinsaya  7 Cities in the Pre-Modern Islamic World The urban impact of religion, state and society Edited by Amira K. Bennison and Alison L. Gascoigne  8 Subalterns and Social Protest History from below in the Middle East and North Africa Edited by Stephanie Cronin  9 Nazism in Syria and Lebanon The ambivalence of the German option, 1933–1945 Götz Nordbruch 10  Nationalism and Liberal Thought in the Arab East Ideology and practice Edited by Christoph Schumann

11  State–Society Relations in Ba‘thist Iraq Facing dictatorship Achim Rohde 12  Untold Histories of the Middle East Recovering voices from the 19th and 20th centuries Edited by Amy Singer, Christoph K. Neumann and Selçuk Akşin Somel 13  Court Cultures in the Muslim World Seventh to nineteenth centuries Edited by Albrecht Fuess and Jan-Peter Hartung 14  The City in the Ottoman Empire Migration and the making of urban modernity Edited by Ulrike Freitag, Malte Fuhrmann, Nora Lafi and Florian Riedler 15  Opposition and Legitimacy in the Ottoman Empire Conspiracies and political cultures Florian Riedler 16  Islam and the Politics of Secularism The Caliphate and Middle Eastern modernization in the early 20th century Nurullah Ardiç 17  State-Nationalisms in the Ottoman Empire, Greece and Turkey Orthodox and Muslims, 1830–1945 Edited by Benjamin C. Fortna, Stefanos Katsikas, Dimitris Kamouzis and Paraskevas Konortas

18  The Making of the Arab Intellectual Empire, public sphere and the colonial coordinates of self hood Edited by Dyala Hamzah 19  Orthodox Christians in the Late Ottoman Empire Ayşe Ozil 20  A Provincial History of the Ottoman Empire Cyprus and the Eastern Mediterranean in the nineteenth century Marc Aymes 21  Urban Governance under the Ottomans Between cosmopolitanism and conflict Edited by Ulrike Freitag and Nora Lafi 22  Ottoman Notables and Participatory Politics Tanzimat reform in Tokat, 1839–1876 John K. Bragg 23  Intellectuals and Reform in the Ottoman Empire The Young Turks on the challenges of modernity Stefano Taglia 24  Dismantling the Ottoman Empire Britain, America and the Armenian Question Nevzat Uyanık 25  Syria in World War I Politics, economy, and society Edited by M. Talha Çiçek

Syria in World War I Politics, economy, and society

Edited by M. Talha Çiçek

First published 2016 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2016 selection and editorial material, M. Talha Çiçek; individual chapters, the contributors The right of the editor to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested ISBN: 978-1-138-94454-1 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-67181-9 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Swales & Willis Ltd, Exeter, Devon, UK

Contents

List of figures List of contributors Acknowledgments List of abbreviations Introduction

xi xii xv xvi 1

M. TALHA ÇİÇEK

The scope of the volume  2 Overview of the chapters  3 Notes   7 References 7 1 Myth of the Unionist triumvirate: the formation of the CUP factions and their impact in Syria during the Great War

9

M. TALHA ÇİÇEK

“Preparation for a revolution”: from cultural evolution to revolutionary activism  10 The formation of civil and military factions after the 1908 Revolution  12 The third faction: Djemal Pasha and his group  14 Factional struggles in Syria during Djemal Pasha’s rule  18 Conclusion 25 Notes   26 References 35 2 Muhammad Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia in the Ottoman campaign against Arab separatism SALIM TAMARI

A Syrian-Palestinian expedition  39 The new Salah al-Din  42 Muhammad Kurd Ali and the Ottoman Commonwealth  43

37

viii Contents A new Ottoman nation, both oriental and occidental  45 “Turkification of Arabs, Arabization of Turks”  47 Syrian interest in defending Gallipoli  47 The Islamic bond  49 The Hijazi Expedition: in defense of Osmanlılık 50 The Palestinian episode: conqueror vs. reformer  51 Conclusion: the Syrian and Hijazi expeditions in retrospect  53 Notes 56 References 59 3 A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha: the Arab literati’s visit to the Gallipoli front, 18–23 October 1915

61

AYHAN AKTAR

British war propaganda on the Palestinian front  62 Inbuilt skepticism of the CUP bureaucracy: beware! Arabs are coming!  65 The Syrian literati go to Istanbul  68 Syrian literati at Gallipoli: account of Uryanizade Ali Vahid Effendi  71 “Undesirable” Arab soldiers of the “Aleppo Division” of Colonel Mustafa Kemal  73 The Syrian literati visit Colonel Mustafa Kemal’s “Aleppo Division”  75 A very cruel joke on Asad al-Shukairi and his friends  77 Propaganda tour of the Syrian literati: a mission impossible  81 Notes 82 References 85 4 “We will treat you like the Armenians”: Djemal Pasha, Zionism and the evacuation of Jaffa, April 1917

87

ROBERTO MAZZA

Djemal Pasha and Zionism  89 The evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv, April 1917  93 The creation of a myth  95 Conclusion 99 Notes 100 References and bibliography  104 5 The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement during the first months of World War I HILMAR KAISER

Ottoman views on the Zionist movement in 1914  108 Bahaeddin Bey at Jaffa  110

107

Contents  ix 17 December 1914  114 Conclusion 122 Notes 124 References 128 6 Fragments of wartime memories from Syria and Lebanon

130

NAJWA AL-QATTAN

Zajal and poetry: “Every verse is an ambassador”  133 Anecdotes and apocryphal stories  138 Familial fragments of memory  140 Families and communities  142 Conclusion: “To remember those things we never knew?”  144 Notes 145 References 147 7 Economy, environment, and famine: World War I from the perspective of the Syrian interior

150

ELIZABETH WILLIAMS

1914–1915: Panic in Beirut, a bountiful harvest in Aleppo, and price inflation in Damascus  152 1916: Increasing grain scarcity, inflation, and investments in agriculture 155 1917: New strategies, drought, and an agricultural bank scandal  158 1918: A tax collection crisis and preparations for retreat  159 Conclusion 161 Notes 162 References 167 8 Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations in the fall of 1915 HILMAR KAISER

Eskishehir 178 Konia 181 Ereghli 183 Ulukishla 184 The manual of 10 September 1915  185 Aleppo 188 The manual of 7 October 1915  191 The implementation  195 Disease control  201 Urfa district  203

169

x Contents The Zor route  207 Halting deportations  208 Ismail Djanbolad Bey  208 The Aleppo conference  210 New negotiations  211 The Amanus  212 Conclusion 217 Notes 219 References 233 Index

237

Figures

3.1 Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi with his Ottoman war (Gallipoli) medal 3.2 Colonel Mustafa Kemal briefing the Syrian literati about the war on a hill at Gallipoli 3.3 Members of the group voicing their respects to Colonel Mustafa Kemal 8.1 Armenian deportees transported by the Anatolian Railway in sheep carts in October 1915 8.2 The yard of the house opposite to the German School in which, in September and October 1915, the government placed Armenian deportees who were suffering from contagious diseases 8.3 The yard served as living and sleeping quarters and also as a toilet: the ground was completely covered in human feces, leading to between twenty and thirty deaths every day 8.4 The living, the sick, and the dying were all covered in flies

71 77 78 177 198 199 199

Contributors

Ayhan Aktar is Professor of Sociology at Istanbul Bilgi University, Turkey. He has been a Visiting Professor at the Department of Turkish and Middle Eastern Studies, University of Cyprus, Nicosia (2006–7), and the winner (with Fatma Müge Göçek, University of Michigan) of a research award granted by the Chaim Herzog Center for Middle East Studies and Diplomacy for a project entitled “Hybrid Globalization of the Middle East: A Longitudinal Analysis of Business, Politics, and the State in Bursa Silk Cloth Production, 1981–2001.” He was Visiting Professor at the University of Michigan’s Sociology Department (2000–01) and a British Council Visiting Fellow to the United Kingdom (1991). In 1992–3, he was Visiting Scholar at Harvard University’s Center for Middle Eastern Studies. Among his publications are Nationalism in Troubled Triangle: Cyprus, Greece and Turkey (with Niyazi Kızılyürek and Umut Özkırımlı) (Palgrave Macmillan, 2010); Varlık Vergisi ve ‘Türkleştirme’ Politikaları [Wealth tax and “Turkification” policies] (Iletişim, 2000); “Tax me to the End of my Life: Anatomy of an Anti-minority Tax Legislation (1942–43),” in State-Nationalisms in the Ottoman Empire, Greece and Turkey: Orthodox and Muslims, 1830–1945, ed. Benjamin C. Fortna et al. (Routledge, 2013); and “‘Turkification’ Policies in the Early Republican Era,” in Turkish Literature and Cultural Memory, ed. Catharina Dufft (Harrassowitz, 2009). M. Talha Çiçek is an assistant professor at Istanbul Medeniyet University. He studied political science at Sakarya University, Turkey, and received his PhD from Sabanci University, Turkey. He was a Visiting Researcher at the Free University of Berlin (2009–10) and the winner of The Young Scientist Award Programme by the Turkish Academy of Sciences (2015). He studied Arabic in Kuwait University (2005–6). He has undertaken research on the history of the Syrian provinces under Ottoman rule at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, making use of Ottoman, Austrian, German, British, French, and American archives. His research interests include the history of the Modern Middle East, Islamic history, late Ottoman history and historiography, the socio-political history of Ottoman Syria and Arabia, Arab tribes under Ottoman rule, modern

Contributors  xiii Turkish history, and world history, and he is the author of the book War and State Formation in Syria: Cemal Pasha’s Governorate during World War I (Routledge, 2014). Hilmar Kaiser studied history at the Ruhr University Bochum and received his PhD from the European University Institute, Florence, Italy. His research focuses on late Ottoman social and economic history, and he has published numerous studies, including “Genocide at the Twilight of the Ottoman Empire”, in The Oxford Handbook of Genocide Studies, ed. Donald Bloxham and A. Dirk Moses (Oxford University Press, 2010) and The Extermination of the Armenians in the Diarbekir Region (Istanbul Bilgi University Press, 2014). Roberto Mazza earned his PhD in 2007 from SOAS, London, where he is currently a Research Associate. He has published two books with I. B. Tauris: Jerusalem from the Ottomans to the British (2009) and Jerusalem in World War I: The Palestine Diary of a European Consul (2011), as well as several articles in the Jerusalem Quarterly and, most recently, “For God and La Patrie: Antonin Jaussen, Dominican Priest and French Intelligence Agent in the Middle East, 1914–1920,” First World War Studies, 3/2 (2012): 145–64. Dr Mazza has also worked on urban violence, and a chapter about the Nebi Musa Riots that occurred in Jerusalem 1920 was published in Urban Violence in the Middle East: Changing Cityscapes in the Transition from Empire to Nation State, ed. Ulrike Freitag et al. (Berghahn Books, 2015). Najwa al-Qattan is Associate Professor of Middle Eastern History at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. She holds a BA in philosophy from the American University of Beirut, an MA in philosophy from Georgetown University, and a PhD in history and Middle East studies from Harvard University. She is the recipient of awards and grants from the Social Science Research Council, the Middle East Studies Association, the Turkish Studies Association, and the National Endowment for Humanities. Her articles on the Ottoman Muslim court, the Jews and Christians of the empire, and the Ottoman Great War have been published in the International Journal of Middle East Studies and Comparative Studies in Society and History. She has also served on award committees for the Middle East Studies Association and the Turkish Studies Association. Since 2010 she has been serving as the President of the Board of Directors of the Palestinian American Research Center.  Salim Tamari is Professor of Sociology, Burzeit University. He has been a Visiting Fellow at the Aga Khan Program for Islamic Architecture at MIT and was a Visiting Professor at the University of California, Berkeley (2005, 2007), New York University (2001–3); Cornell University (1997), and the University of Chicago (1991–2). He was a 2008 Eric Lane Fellow at the University of Cambridge and is a Lecturer in Mediterranean studies at the Ca’ Foscari University of Venice. His books include Jerusalem 1948: The Arab

xiv Contributors Neighborhoods and Their Fate in the War (IPS, 1999), Palestinian Refugee Negotiations: From Madrid to Oslo II (IPS, 1996), Mountain against the Sea: Essays on Palestinian Society and Culture (University of California Press, 2009), and Year of the Locust: A Soldier’s Diary and the Erasure of Palestine’s Ottoman Past (University of California Press, 2011). Elizabeth Williams is a PhD candidate in the Department of History at Georgetown University and is currently completing her dissertation, “Cultivating Empires: Environment, Expertise, and Scientific Agriculture in Late Ottoman and French Mandate Syria.”

Acknowledgments

This book is the product of a conference entitled “The Syrian Lands during the Great War,” organized by Istanbul Şehir University, which took place on 15–16 June 2014, and I should like to thank the university for their generous help in making its publication possible. I am also grateful to Engin D. Akarlı, the dean of the Faculty of Humanities, for encouraging both the conference and the subsequent publication of the papers, as well as to Ayhan Aktar and Salim Tamari, who helped me organize the conference. Special thanks are due to Ismail Hakkı Kadı, who helped me revise the draft of manuscript. Thanks are also due to Joe Whiting, Holly Jones and Caroline Richmond for their help in the process of publication.

Abbreviations

AA-PA Auswärtiges Amt, Politisches Archiv, Berlin AGAE Archivo General des Asuntos Exteriores, Madrid A.MTZ.CL Mümtaze Kalemi, Cebel-i Lübnan ANZAC Australian and New Zealand Army Corps ATASE Askeri Tarih ve Stratejik Etüt Dairesi, Ankara ATO Alpha Tau Omega Archives, University of Illinois, UrbanaChampaign BEO Bab-ı Ali Evrak Odası BOA Başbakanlık Osmanlı Arşivleri, Instanbul CUP Committee for Union and Progress CZA Central Zionist Archives, Jerusalem DH.EUM Dahiliye Nezareti, Emniyet-i Umumiye Müdüriyeti DH.IUM.EK Dahiliye Nezareti İdare-i Umumiye Müdiriyeti DH.EUM.EMN Dahiliye Nezareti, Emniyet-i Umumiye Şubesi Emniyet Kalemi DH.EUM.KLH Kalem-i Hususi DH.EUM.KLU Dahiliye Nezareti, Kalem-i Umumi DH.EUM.MH Dahiliye Nezareti Emniyet-I Umumiye Müdiriyeti Muhasebe Kalemi DH.EUM.VRK Dahiliye Nezareti Emniyet-I Umumiye Müdiriyeti Evrak Odası Kalemi Evrakı DH.ŞFR Dahiliye Nezareti, Şifre Kalemi DH.UMVM Dahiliye Nezareti, Umûr-ı Mahalliye-i Vilâyât Müdüriyeti EEF Egyptian Expeditionary Force FO Foreign Office, London HHStA Haus-, Hof- und Staatsarchiv, Vienna ISA Israel State Archives, Jerusalem ISUL Istanbul Şehir University Library IUDM İdare-I Umumiye Dahiliye Müdiriyeti MV Meclis-i Vükela Mazbataları NA National Archives, College Park, Maryland NARA National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, DC TNA The National Archives, London

Introduction M. Talha Çiçek

World War I began as a European war that also had some impact in the Pacific and Africa. In a short while, however, it was transformed into a global conflict that caused fundamental changes in the Middle East, Africa, Asia and the Americas. Besides bringing about the disappearance of the Russian, Austro-Hungarian and German empires, the end of the Great War signaled the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, which controlled most of the Arab Middle East. Governments mobilized unprecedented numbers of soldiers, and casualties reached figures never before seen. Millions of people died as a result of warfare, epidemics, famines and massacres. Among the Ottomans, as many as 5 million people, mostly civilians, lost their lives.1 Ottoman leaders entered into the war to save their state from partition and foreign rule and to reestablish full sovereignty over their country’s affairs. In Djemal Pasha’s words, they preferred “either to live like an honorable nation or to exit the stage of history gloriously.”2 Their conviction did not lead Ottoman leaders to consider the conflict merely as a life-or-death struggle; rather, they saw it as an opportunity to transform the empire into the type of state to which they had been aspiring, although there was disagreement among the leaders as to what this new type of state should actually look like. As will be shown through the chapters of this volume, the war was a radical break from the past for the Syrian lands, which underwent crucial political, economic, social and cultural transformations. According to a recent study, some 26 percent of the 2.85 million conscripted Ottoman soldiers were of Arab origin, and the majority of them were from Syria.3 In the beginning, the Syrians enthusiastically supported both the so-called Holy War against the Entente and the Egyptian expedition led by Djemal Pasha in February 1915.4 However, following his failure at the Suez Canal, and as a result of the policies of the Committee for Union and Progress (CUP) implemented mainly by Djemal and his faction in the party, the components of the constitutional regime––the system of regional governance, local administration, and identity politics––collapsed, to be replaced by a rule of terror. The political, economic, and ecological catastrophes that followed included famines, epidemics, the 1915 locust plague, the execution of Arabist leaders, and the widespread cutting of olive trees to maintain railway transportation—all of which left deep traces in the collective memory of the peoples in the region.5

2  M. Talha Çiçek With the centennial commemoration of World War I, a couple of pioneering studies with a transnational perspective have been published on the Syrian lands during that time. In their approach, they deconstruct the national narratives of the successor states and shed light on hitherto neglected issues of that period. Year of the Locust, the diaries of an Ottoman-Arab soldier, Ihsan Turjman, translated and edited with an extensive introduction by Salim Tamari, provides a fascinating study of the social experience and the impact of World War I on the population of Ottoman Palestine. On the one hand, the book offers a rare and captivating glimpse into the war’s impact on everyday life; on the other, on account of its particular perspective and its unique source material, it places the political processes at different levels of the empire in a wider context.6 Another equally important example is Abramson’s Soldiers’ Tales, which reveals the transnational character of the war history through the diaries of the two Ottoman-Jewish soldiers from Jerusalem, one of whom was sent to Anatolia for military service while the other was employed in Palestine.7 A very recent study, A Land of Aching Hearts by Leila Fawaz, based on a variety of diaries and memoirs, looks at how the war was experienced by the locals.8 Besides contributing to the social and economic history of Syria’s wartime history, the current volume complements the picture painted by these studies by illuminating the government policies towards the different groups in Syria and their social consequences.

The scope of the volume This book approaches the World War I history of Greater Syria in the broader Ottoman context rather than primarily from an Arab or Syrian national perspective. In this regard, chapters 1, 3, 5, and 6 address government policies and the political differentiations that existed within the ruling party, the CUP, and their impact on the Syrian lands. In the process of creating new “government policies,” each of the different Unionist factions followed its own ideal of an Ottoman state, and they competed with each other in order to realize their vision for the empire. Existing studies have often neglected this point and have treated the Unionist government as a single, harmonious unit. Therefore, one of the important contributions of this book is its emphasis during the war period on the diverging policies of Ottoman statesmen within the context of the Syrian lands. Thus, there were remarkable differences between the policies of Djemal Pasha, minister of the navy and commander of the Fourth Army, and his rule over the Syrian lands and the policies of the central government. As Djemal noted in his memoirs, he had gone to Syria to “prepare (and carry through) the attack on the [Suez] Canal, and also to maintain peace and internal order in Syria.”9 Following his failed first attack in February 1915, he focused on the internal politics of Syria and began to “solve” the region’s problems in line with his own political views. In doing so, he adopted more aggressive policies and targeted those “issues” that prevented the realization of his monolithic perception of statecraft, such as Arab nationalism, Zionism, and the statute of “the Autonomous district of Mount Lebanon.” Djemal Pasha extended government

Introduction  3 control through the Ottomanization of foreign educational institutions, the opening of new government schools, and urban modernization.10 He not only aimed at strengthening the Ottoman presence in Syria in relation to Western powers but also forged on ahead of the other Unionist leaders. Through these measures, he presented himself as a ruler who had successfully centralized the administration—an important Unionist principle—and hoped to emerge as the paramount figure in imperial politics. Besides placing the issues of wartime Syria within the context of Ottoman history, the book emphasizes regional and imperial diversity. Rather than concentrating exclusively on issues such as the development of nationalist movements, the settlement of the Armenian survivors, and the centralization of government, it analyzes the wartime history of the Syrian lands from a broader perspective. The authors introduce new and original research based on primary documentation produced within the Fourth Army region. Political complexities emerge from this broad documentation which overcome source-based biases and offer an inclusive perspective. Chapters 6 and 7 in particular shed light on the region’s social and economic history and demonstrate how the collapse of the economy created a catastrophe. The seventh chapter touches one of the most interesting current strands of research about the impact of World War I on this region by bringing together political, economic, and ecological perspectives. The volume does have some limitations regarding the history of Syria during the period. Firstly, although touched upon by al-Qattan’s piece and shown through the last chapter, gendered dimensions of the wartime experience are not explored systematically. Secondly, military dimensions—the large-scale experience of conscription, military training, fighting, etc., among the male population—have not been analyzed in detail. In addition, there could have been a more extensive discussion of the ecological aspects of the war.

Overview of the chapters Influenced by Weberian theories of the modern state, many scholars studying this period have imagined the CUP leaders as parts of a harmonious body that tried to implement a plan of Turkification or imperial centralization. A strong emphasis on imperial policy has prevented many from seeing the differences between these figures. But, in fact, the Unionists fundamentally changed the structure of the Ottoman government. By increasing the role of their party at the expense of the rest of the government, they transferred their factional struggles into state affairs and the bureaucracy itself. Especially after taking full control during the 1913 coup, the various Unionist factions, led by prominent leaders such as Enver Pasha, Talat Bey, and Djemal Pasha, began competing for more influence. The Ottoman entry into the Great War and its adoption of certain radical policies increased these factional tensions. In chapter 1, following an analysis of factionalism within the CUP, M. Talha Çiçek discusses the conflict between its leaders in Istanbul and Djemal Pasha by examining their personal networks. The ideological differences between Djemal Pasha, Talat Bey, and Enver Pasha and

4  M. Talha Çiçek their repercussions in bureaucratic networks and government policies in Syria centered on the so-called triumvirate are scrutinized by using documents from Ottoman, British, German, and Austrian archives, as well as diaries and memoirs in Turkish and Arabic. Djemal Pasha’s faction included not only Turks. Especially during his governorate in Syria, he also enjoyed support from influential Arabs. Examining two of his official visits, Salim Tamari demonstrates in chapter 2 that some prominent Syrian Arabs supported Djemal Pasha and argues that they can be considered members of his faction. During the first visit, from Syria to Gallipoli and Istanbul, some of the most influential Islamic leaders, intellectuals, and journalists defended the Ottoman administration and Djemal’s rule against its critics. The visit was, in a way, a response to criticism from other factions in Istanbul, who often disagreed with the commander’s draconian methods. The Arab leaders defended Djemal Pasha in the name of Osmanlılık (Ottomanism), the Islamic realm, a common Ottoman citizenship, Ottoman modernity, and its material achievements in promoting development in Syria. The activities of this group, few of whose members were known for their critical attitudes towards the government, Tamari states, show that the public continued to believe in the bonds that united Syria and Anatolia at the height of the military campaign, that a substantial body of the Arab public still saw the Ottoman realm as their own, and that separation from Istanbul still carried the mark of betrayal. In chapter 3, Ayhan Aktar questions the rationale behind Djemal Pasha’s organization of the propaganda tour to the Gallipoli front. He discusses two accounts published in 1916 that summarized the members’ impressions. The first, published in Istanbul, was written by the group’s Arabic interpreter, Uryanizade Ali Vahid Efendi, a member the Ottoman ‘ulama. In it, the author vividly describes their visit and the warm reception they received from the officers and Arab soldiers of the famous 19th Division, nicknamed the “Aleppo Division.” The second account, published in Beirut, was in Arabic and described the visit for an Arabic-speaking audience. Through these texts, Djemal Pasha’s supporters propagandized for him in Istanbul and Syria. Aktar concludes that “the story of the literati’s visit to these places is meaningful for analyzing different ideological and practical positions existing within the CUP during the Gallipoli campaign.”11 The chapters by Tamari and Aktar also shed light on the most neglected aspect of Syrian history during the war period from a transnational perspective. While the existing scholarship focuses mainly on the development of the Arab national movements, these two chapters shed light on opposition to Arab “separatism” by Ottomanist Syrians. Furthermore, they highlight that this was both Ottoman/ Djemal Pasha’s war propaganda and an effort to mobilize local support in Syria. So Djemal was not only repressing the people but trying to win them over. Zionism was another challenge that Djemal Pasha addressed while consolidating the direct authority of the state in Syria. In a similar manner to academic work on the Arabs, Jewish studies have generally focused on the situation of the Jews in Palestine rather than on the rationale and concerns behind Ottoman policies towards this group. Chapters 4 and 5, by Roberto Mazza and Hilmar Kaiser,

Introduction  5 respectively, discuss these issues by concentrating on the beginning and end of the Great War. After an evaluation of the existing literature, Roberto Mazza in chapter 4 deals with the evacuation of Jaffa in April 1917. Djemal Pasha had ordered the measure on the basis of military necessity following rumors of an imminent landing by Entente forces. On the morning of 6 April, the Jewish population of the city left for either Jerusalem or the Jewish colonies in Galilee. Historiography has often presented this episode as an example of the anti-Zionist stance of Djemal Pasha and the wider government. It was described as a forced expulsion that ended with the massacre of hundreds of Jews. Mazza argues that this interpretation often relied on sources that, in time, have proven to be biased, exaggerated, or entirely fabricated. He maintains that some sources, at times ignored or neglected, give a different account of the events, thereby exposing fabrication and exaggeration. In revisiting the events, this chapter analyzes the complex relationship between Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the Zionists. Relying on a variety of sources, including archival materials, letters, diaries, and memoirs of local residents, it highlights the multifaceted and at times contradictory nature of Djemal Pasha’s perceptions and understanding of Zionism, showing that his decisions were driven mainly by wartime exigencies rather than by antiSemitism or anti-Zionism. Chapter 5 focuses on the measures—including deportations of non-Ottoman Jews—taken by administrators against Zionist settlers in Palestine in late 1914 and early 1915. Drawing on sources from American, German, Israeli, and Turkish archives, Hilmar Kaiser offers a fresh account of the government’s policies and a reassessment of the relevant historiography on the issue. These policies have often been presented as the excesses of a fanatic petty official, but Kaiser demonstrates that this view is little more than a reiteration of contemporary assessments that ignores information suggesting the contrary. In reality, Kaiser maintains, these measures formed part of a central government policy aimed at decisively weakening, if not aborting, Zionist claims to and strategies for obtaining control over land in Palestine. The Ministry of the Interior dispatched to the area  its expert on Zionism, Manastirli Bahaeddin Bey—an official who had headed a department in the ministry’s “Directorate for Public Security.” In Palestine, Bahaeddin Bey became the sub-district governor of Jaffa, which provided him with a suitable cover for his assignment. Factional struggles are relevant here, too, as Kaiser demonstrates the variety of responses to the Zionist movement within the CUP. The most devastating event of the period was undoubtedly the famine in the Syrian lands. By all accounts, the civilian population experienced profound suffering and loss during the Great War. In addition to the harsh exactions of conscription, corvée, exile, imprisonment, and executions, the region was hit by a string of epidemics (typhus, typhoid, and malaria), an earthquake, multiple locust infestations, and a famine. This last was the product of a noxious cocktail—a perfect storm whose elements included unusually snowy winters, locusts, the Entente blockade, Ottoman war requisition and currency devaluation, corruption,

6  M. Talha Çiçek and profiteering. It led to the death of hundreds of thousands of civilians and cast a deep shadow on Syrian and Lebanese remembrances of the Great War. Najwa al-Qattan examines, in chapter 6, the civilian experience of the famine as it came to be articulated in the works of Lebanese and Syrian poets, memoirists, and novelist-playwrights over the course of the twentieth century. Using a wide range of writings, she asks how the experience of the famine affected conceptions of the self, the family, the community—indeed, time itself. Her chapter contributes to the scholarship on the Great War in three ways: it focuses on the civilian experience in Ottoman Syria; it taps into a corpus of material that has not been studied before; and it brings an interdisciplinary and cultural approach to the war’s history. More specifically, it seeks to apply some of the methodologies developed by European historians of the war to the Middle Eastern experience and focuses on civilians by using the tools of cultural history, literary criticism, and gender theory. An important factor leading to the deaths of such a large number of people as a result of the famine and epidemics was the organizational problems of the Ottoman government. A myriad of obstacles, among them drought, the Allied blockade, and grain speculation, posed challenges to its ability to supply Bilad al-Sham [Greater Syria] with basic subsistence. While the blockade effectively cut supply lines from the sea, a number of elements hindered the movement of supplies in the interior as well. In chapter 7, Elizabeth Williams examines this breakdown between the interior and the coast through a detailed analysis of economic conditions in the region of Aleppo and its hinterland. The main question she addresses is what exactly was behind the disruption of provisions from grain-rich regions in the interior to grain-poor ones, even when agricultural production was good. By examining documents from the Ottoman archives and foreign consulates, as well as local Arabic periodicals, she explores issues such as price inflation, the use of paper money versus gold, the actions of the local agricultural bank, efforts to provision the army rather than the local population, the spread of diseases, road and transportation conditions, grain speculation, locust attacks, attempts to improve agricultural cultivation, and the circulation of produce. By systematically examining the impacts of these factors on the economic life of the region and its connections with the mountains and the coast, Williams adds to existing scholarship, which up until now has focused largely on conditions in Beirut and Mount Lebanon. In particular, the incorporation of the Ottoman administrative perspective into her analysis expands and nuances our understanding of the region’s economic life during the war; until recently, this has been based almost exclusively on the reports of foreign consuls and memoirs. Another issue of crucial importance to the history of the Syrian lands is the settlement of Armenian deportees from Anatolia. The political differences between the CUP’s factions are most evident here, where the policies of Djemal Pasha and his closest officials towards Ottoman Armenians differed significantly from those in other areas of the empire. Djemal Pasha did not allow a massacre of these deportees, and he did his best to improve their conditions. Within this context,

Introduction  7 chapter 8 considers the differences between the moderate and extremist wings of the government. Introducing new material from American, Armenian, Austrian, German, Turkish, and other archives, Hilmar Kaiser examines a mission by the head of the Ottoman Ministry of Interior’s “Directorate for the Settlement of Tribes and Immigrants” that was meant to reorganize the Armenian deportations along the Anatolian railway line and within the Fourth Army region. Shukru Bey investigated crimes, corruption, and the progress of the deportations and the organization of the so-called settlement areas. Kaiser argues that he created a new framework for the deportations and established new command structures following a conference in which top-level officials from the military, security apparatus, and civil administration participated. This book is a meaningful contribution to the government policies in the Syrian lands and their social impacts during the Great War. Many of the stories shed light on current problems in the Arab world, offering an alternative, transnational perspective. The names of places and persons have been standardized by the editor for the sake of consistency.

Notes   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9 10 11

Aksakal, “The Ottoman Empire”, p. 459. Aksakal, The Ottoman Road to War in 1914, p. 19. Beşikçi, Ottoman Mobilization of the Manpower in the First World War, pp. 253–4. Çiçek, “The Holy War in Syria.” For some studies on how World War I was remembered in the Syrian lands, see Farschid et al., The First World War as Remembered in the Countries of Eastern Mediterranean; Tamari, Year of the Locust; and al-Qattan, “Safarbarlik”. Tamari, Year of the Locust. Abramson, Soldiers’ Tales. Fawaz, A Land of Aching Hearts. Djemal Pasha, Memoirs of a Turkish Statesman, p. 138. For a recent study on Djemal Pasha’s policies in Syria, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria. See his chapter in this book, p. 000.

References Abramson, G., Soldiers’ Tales: Two Palestinian Jewish Soldiers in the Ottoman Army during the First World War. London: Valentine Mitchell, 2014. Aksakal, M., “The Ottoman Empire,” in Jay Winter (ed.), The Cambridge History of the First World War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014, pp. 459–78. —— The Ottoman Road to War in 1914: The Ottoman Empire and the First World War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. Al-Qattan, N., “Safarbarlik: Ottoman Syria and the Great War,” in T. Philipp and C. Schumann (eds), From the Syrian Land to the States of Syria and Lebanon. Beirut: Ergon, 2004. Beşikçi, M., Ottoman Mobilization of the Manpower in the First World War: Between Voluntarism and Resistance. Leiden: Brill, 2012.

8  M. Talha Çiçek Çiçek, M. T., “The Holy War in Syria: Cemal Pasha and World War I plan to conquer Egypt,” War and Society 35/1 (2016). Çiçek, M. T., War and State Formation in Syria: Cemal Pasha’s Governorate during World War I. London: Routledge, 2014. Djemal Pasha, Memoirs of a Turkish Statesman, 1913–1919. London: Hutchinson, 1922. Farschid, O., M. Kropp, and S. Daehne (eds), The First World War as Remembered in the Countries of the Eastern Mediterranean. Beirut: Orient-Institut, 2006. Fawaz, L. T., A Land of Aching Hearts. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014. Tamari, S., Year of the Locust: A Soldier’s Diary and the Erasure of Palestine’s Ottoman Past. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011.

1 Myth of the Unionist triumvirate The formation of the CUP factions and their impact in Syria during the Great War M. Talha Çiçek

There is little doubt that the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP) was the single most influential political organization of the Second Constitutional Period (1908–23). As the party played a leading role in the significant events of that period, scholars have generally viewed it as a united political organization that tackled reform within the Ottoman Empire. This view underestimates factional struggles within the organization. A closer look at the writings of contemporary political leaders and the extant archival record, however, shows how the party’s multi-leadership structure created conflicts and divisions that shaped government policies. The shared goal of the CUP leaders was to arrest the empire’s loss of territory and to restore its heyday. While at times the CUP allied itself with politicians who advocated decentralist policies, it had embraced an ideology that strongly advocated a centralist government. But this did not mean that the party was a monolithic organization or that there were no struggles among its members regarding the political direction it should take. During its period of dominance, the multi-leadership structure of the CUP redefined the nature of Ottoman politics. This brought about two interrelated results. Firstly, the party’s idiosyncratic structure brought about interventions in government by prominent Unionists who were not part of the bureaucracy. This created conflict between committee members and bureaucrats. Secondly, once in official positions, CUP leaders acted as if they were independent rulers rather than subordinate to the central government. The Unionists’ failure to maintain a distinction between party and government dismantled the Ottoman Empire’s bureaucratic traditions. It also gave rise to factional struggles among followers of prominent Unionist leaders who entertained opposing views about the realization of their ideals. Scholars have regularly presented Enver, Talat, and Djemal Pasha as a “triumvirate” position within the CUP. In doing so, they imply that they formed a harmonious team. Although the three party leaders had some shared political goals, such as the centralization of the empire and the end of foreign interference in internal affairs, this did not prevent the emergence of different factions, each of which followed its own agenda. As opposition to its own ideology and policies was viewed—and also treated—as “treason,” opposing political views could

10  M. Talha Çiçek only be formulated within the CUP.1 The three parties therefore represented different political directions within the Unionist movement. Enver Pasha stood for the Unionist revolutionaries in the Ottoman army, while Talat Bey represented the civilian revolutionaries. However, within this faction Dr. Bahaeddin Shakir and Dr. Nazım were as influential as (and, at times, even more so than) Talat Bey. Djemal Pasha’s group was politically more moderate and included those party members who were dissatisfied with the two other groups. Consequently, it brought together civilians and members of the military. Thus, influential members of the army and the civil bureaucracy as well as prominent intellectuals supported this faction.2 Moreover, Djemal had good relations with some prominent political opponents outside the CUP, such as Ali Kemal Bey, Hasan Bey the Circassian [Hasan Amca], and Refik Halid Bey [Karay].3 In sum, the CUP’s leadership resembled a coalition of competing factions more than a triumvirate. This factionalism reached its climax when the CUP gained full control over the government after the 1913 Raid on the Sublime Porte [Bāb-ı Ālī Baskını] and its leaders took over all key government positions. Following the coup, government policy was shaped by party membership and factional struggles within the organization rather than by established administrative procedures. Not surprisingly, the situation created contradictions within the functioning of the bureaucracy and also transformed the Ottoman state into “an empire of difference.” If a minister—or a governor—commanded sufficient influence in the CUP, he could exercise a large degree of autonomy in the execution of his official duties. Thus, governors who were influential within the CUP often complied with central government orders in whatever way they deemed fit. As we will examine later, both the Smyrna governor Rahmi Bey and the Diarbekir governor Reshid Bey achieved positions of almost unchallenged dominance.4 Although Djemal Pasha’s policies in Syria were quite consistent with the Unionist ideology, the Syrian lands under his rule were also a good example of this factionalism and autonomy.5 These self-ordained leaders and semi-autonomous areas prevented the development of a functioning and integrated state bureaucracy during the Second Constitutional Period. This chapter will examine the development of factionalism within the CUP and the emergence of self-decreed rule in Syria during World War I. Firstly, transformations within the CUP’s organizational structure before the 1908 Revolution are discussed. Secondly, our analysis focuses on the emergence of factional groups within the CUP following the revolution and the rise of Djemal Pasha’s faction. Finally, the latter’s reorganization and impact on the Ottoman-Syrian bureaucracy is scrutinized.

“Preparation for a revolution”: from cultural evolution to revolutionary activism A few students at the Royal Medical School in Istanbul established the CUP in 1889 as a secret society to oppose the despotic rule of Abdulhamid II. For a long time, it remained an intellectual opposition movement and did not engage in any serious political activities to topple the Hamidian regime. The students’

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  11 political ideas were inspired by social Darwinism, positivism, and elitism, and they believed that the transformation of society would follow an evolutionary rather than a revolutionary path. Ahmed Rıza, who for years remained the charismatic leader of the organization’s central branch in Paris, propagated the idea that the modernization of society could succeed only through education rather than by revolutionary methods. He thought that, given the widespread absence within Ottoman society of modern ideas and the concept of freedom, deposing the sultan and bringing enlightened people to power would not suffice. For that reason, Ahmed Rıza strongly opposed the creation of revolutionary groups within the CUP and discouraged its members from taking that route.6 The Ottoman population’s submissiveness towards the Hamidian regime, however, convinced a number of CUP leaders that only revolutionary action could bring about political change. Increasingly, these activist-revolutionary figures gained influence within the CUP organization in Paris, eventually overcoming the predominance of evolutionary views. Following Bahaeddin Shakir Bey’s flight to Paris in 1905 and his cooperation with Dr. Nazım, the party’s central branch began the “preparation for a revolution.” The two medical doctors outmaneuvered Ahmed Rıza as leaders and reduced his role to that of an ordinary member.7 Having emerged as the committee’s new policy-makers, they reorganized the dispersed revolutionary cells and also expanded the organization’s network with the Ottoman Empire and abroad. The two physicians coordinated activities to some extent and initiated a new policy of activism against Hamidian rule. To that effect, Bahaeddin Shakir seized control of the Shura-yı Ummet newspaper in Egypt and established it as the party’s official organ. Together with the improved organizational structure, the paper facilitated dissemination of propaganda materials inside the Ottoman realm.8 Ahmed Djelaleddin Pasha, the former chief of Abdulhamid II’s spy organization, worked closely with Bahaeddin Shakir Bey and provided financial support.9 Dr. Nazım Bey secretly traveled to the Ottoman Empire. During his stay at Salonika, he negotiated with the local activist-revolutionary Ottoman Freedom Society. This organization had been formed by young officers and low-ranking civil bureaucrats, who agreed to merge their society with the CUP.10 The 1908 Revolution was the achievement of the two groups, and it would be an exaggeration to “give all the credit for the 1908 Revolution to the Ottoman Freedom Society.” Hanioğlu demonstrated that “the efforts of Bahaeddin Şakir [sic] and Dr. Nazım to organize the new committee after the merger, and the propaganda material disseminated by the CPU [sic], played an invaluable role in the revolution. Without these the revolution could have not been realized for a long time to come.”11 Thus, both the CUP’s own efforts and “the Hamidian regime’s unpreparedness” contributed to the success of the 1908 Revolution.12 Talat Bey emerged as the leader of the Salonika faction, while Dr. Nazım and Dr. Bahaeddin Shakir remained the key exponents of the Paris faction. Monastır (Bitola) had been another influential center for revolutionary activities. Like other branches, the Monastır group had enjoyed extensive autonomy and constituted an influential group.13 According to Kazım Karabekir, a member of Enver Pasha’s faction, the branch had been more revolutionary than Salonika’s. Its members

12  M. Talha Çiçek had resolved to rebel against Hamidian rule whether or not the revolutionaries at Salonika would support them.14 While Enver Bey had acted as liaison between the the two branches, he had disagreed on his fellows’ line of action and had remained loyal to the orders of the CUP internal Central Committee at Salonika.15 Fethi [Okyar] and Eyup Sabri Bey were other committee members from Monastır who rose to prominence in the post-revolution era.16 As, on account of the repressive Hamidian regime, all CUP branches had remained largely autonomous and independent in their actions, future factionalism within the organization was facilitated. It seems that Abdulhamid II, a powerful mutual enemy, had galvanized these groups, and thus it remains difficult to determine the differences among them for the pre-revolution era. All of them were activists and played significant roles in Ottoman politics following the revolution. Generally, it is accepted that activist revolutionaries represented the “Macedonian spirit” within the CUP, as did others, such as Dr. Nazım and Dr. Bahaeddin Shakir, who later had adopted it.17 However, it seems that all leading CUP factions had adopted revolutionary activism before 1908. Thus, the branches in Macedonia, Salonika, and Paris shared revolutionism as their principal motivation.

The formation of civil and military factions after the 1908 Revolution The 1908 Revolution paved the way for the CUP’s rise to power. The revolution’s unexpected success created strong excitement among the committee members, who took over some provincial government offices and abused Hamidian bureaucrats and officials. Thus, all three Ottoman European provinces came de facto under CUP control.18 In Smyrna, too, Dr. Nazım acted like an absolutist ruler of the city. He arrested and punished officials of the ancien régime.19 The CUP’s provincial leaders even wanted to take control of towns administered by clandestine CUP members.20 They intimidated bureaucrats, who remained in fear of the CUP during the entire period of Unionist rule.21 Such actions were not isolated cases. In the years following the revolution the CUP created a parallel government in the capital and provinces. Some prominent members obtained government positions. Talat Bey became the vice-president of Parliament [Meclis-i Meb’usan], while Major Djemal Bey [Pasha, the Fourth Army commander in Syria during the Great War] took over the sub-governorate of Üsküdar.22 Others, such as Dr. Nazım and Dr. Bahaeddin Shakir, supposedly directed the affairs of the committee. However, from the very beginning of the revolution, the Unionists’ influence on the civil government and the army went beyond their official authority. When the first CUP delegation from Salonika arrived in Istanbul, Djemal Bey dictated to the Minister of War the appointments of fourteen high-ranking army commanders.23 Thus, the committee’s activist members “became more influential than cabinet ministers or even grand viziers.”24 Following the 31 March [13 April 1909] counter-revolution, the CUP, inspired by the British model, tried to appoint “political undersecretaries” [siyasi müsteşar] to ministers. These advisors were prominent committee members who

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  13 also became members of the Meclis-i Meb’usan. Many, such as Talat Bey, Rahmi Bey, Dr. Nazım, and Djavid Bey, were civil revolutionaries. They would also participate in cabinet meetings. Following the rejection of the CUP’s demands by the Grand Vizier and the Minister of War, the Unionists attempted to legislate in the Meclis. The project failed, but the CUP continued its illegal intervention in government affairs.25 At the same time, CUP members engaged in internal party conflicts among themselves. For instance, the Salonika CUP’s envoy to Istanbul entered into a dispute with the committee members in the capital,26 though because of the weakness of the Istanbul branch this did not result in significant problems.27 In sum, the CUP managed to keep together its various factions during the first year of the revolution. The removal of influential activist revolutionary officers of the Monastır group from Istanbul contributed to this stabilization. The government sent Enver Bey, Fethi Bey, Hafız Hakkı Bey, and Ali Fuad Bey [Cebesoy] as military attachés to Berlin, Paris, Vienna, and Rome, respectively. There may be some connection between the above-mentioned competition of the two branches and the appointment of the Monastır leaders to outside posts. Most likely, the Central Committee secured their appointment.28 The party’s struggle against the opposition and the old hands in the Ottoman bureaucracy was instrumental in consolidating the position of those committee leaders who would later become representatives of the various factions. The 31 March Incident, however, strengthened the CUP’s military group, which was largely identical with the Monastır faction, vis-à-vis the Central Committee. Enver Bey, Hafiz Hakkı Bey, and Ali Fethi Bey [Okyar] formed the general staff of the “Action Army” which suppressed the counter-revolution.29 Enver and Djemal Bey were heavily involved in the fighting but escaped without injury.30 The counter-revolution also demonstrated the army’s key role in maintaining Unionist dominance. Because of the empire’s domestic and international crises, this influence grew stronger and added to the prestige of Enver and the military group, both within the CUP and in public opinion.31 They fought in Tripoli against the Italian occupation. During the Balkan Wars, Enver Bey assumed the title of “Conqueror of Adrianople” following the recapture of that city.32 Now, the military group was in a position to challenge the authority of the Central Committee. However, due to disputes with opposition parties and bureaucrats, the factional struggles remained relatively weak until the party’s terrorist arm under Enver’s control raided the Sublime Porte, overthrew Kamil Pasha’s government, and established full CUP control.33 The raid eliminated all opposition. It also brought out into the open the competition between the Unionist factions. The officers’ faction became confident enough to propose Enver Bey as Minister of War. Although Talat Bey argued that Enver Bey was too young for the position, the latter secured his appointment with the help of the CUP’s terrorist wing on 1 January 1914.34 Thus, the military group had become as influential as the Central Committee. Although Enver Bey’s appointment involved the army in politics, it also provided cohesion among senior and junior officers.35

14  M. Talha Çiçek As stated earlier, despite the Unionists’ centralist ideology and the party’s control of the government, the emergence of factions within the CUP prevented the formation of a monolithic state. The semi-autonomous status of committee members in government remained in place throughout the period. On account of their influence within the CUP, governors and other bureaucrats enjoyed broad freedom of action in their posts and against their superiors. Furthermore, committee leaders both inside and outside of government had no respect for the government hierarchy.36 At the same time, it would be wrong to consider these factions as unrelated. After all, they existed within the same party and had struggled for such shared goals as developing the Ottoman Empire into a modern state. According to Ziya Şakir, Talat Bey had planned to terminate the CUP’s role in government affairs in 1909, arguing that it would not be possible to have another “government within the government.” His close friends from Salonika, Midhat Shukri Bey [Bleda] and Halil Bey [Menteşe], agreed with him. But Dr. Bahaeddin Shakir and Dr. Nazım vigorously opposed this idea, claiming that the country was still not stabilized and therefore required surveillance by the committee.37 Thus, Talat Bey’s proposals could also be interpreted as the Salonika group’s attempt to disempower the former Paris group. His later interventions in the government from the outside during Mahmut Shevket Pasha’s grand vizierate show that Talat’s proposal had not been based on his political principles; rather, it was designed to make him more independent of the “Parisians” of the Central Committee.38 Fethi Bey [Okyar], Djemal’s close friend and a prominent opposition figure in the military group, had clashed with Enver Bey over the issue of putting some distance between the army and politics. In contrast to Talat Bey, Fethi had opposed the army’s intervention in politics on principle. He had also opposed the Raid on the Sublime Porte.39 Thus, Fethi Bey had been sidelined,40 while Enver became “the conqueror of the Sublime Porte.”41 His views brought him into conflict with Enver Bey. Fethi considered that it would be difficult for him to serve with Enver. As a result, he resigned from the army and, with Talat Bey’s help, became the committee’s secretary general on 1 September 1913. Fethi Bey had tried to reconstitute the CUP as a political party. He planned to rid the committee of its terrorist wing, thereby curtailing Enver Bey’s influence in the organization. When he tried to cut the militants’ salaries, he met with determined resistance from those such as Atıf Bey and Yakup Cemil Bey, who obstructed its implementation. Understanding that it was impossible to prevent officers intervening politically, following discussions with Djemal,42 Fethi Bey resigned and became Ottoman military attaché at Sofia.43

The third faction: Djemal Pasha and his group During the Great War, Djemal Pasha became the undisputed ruler of the Syrian lands. The reasons behind his authority cannot be understood without addressing his position within the CUP and the political faction that made him an influential political actor. Djemal had been affiliated with the Ottoman Freedom Society since 1906.44 As the government had assigned him a position as a railway inspector, he had freedom

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  15 of travel without raising suspicions—a freedom which gained him an important position among the revolutionaries at Salonika. He organized new branches in places he visited. Moreover, he facilitated communication between the Central Committee and its branches.45 Immediately after the revolution, Djemal Bey joined the CUP delegation to Istanbul in order to “communicate” with the government. Following the 31 March Incident, he became a member of the commission for the implementation of martial law [örfi idare heyeti]. The 1913 Raid on the Sublime Porte started in Djemal Bey’s office. He also served in such important positions as sub-governor of Üsküdar, governor of Adana, and, finally, military commander of Istanbul. All appointments had in common that Djemal Bey was in charge of restoring order after a crisis. During his time as military commander of Istanbul, he suppressed the opposition, thereby restoring order in the city. Many CUP members agreed that Djemal Bey rose to wide acclaim at the time.46 He met with influential circles and strengthened his network, which now included intellectuals, bureaucrats, and officers. Most of these were discontented with the CUP’s military or civil factions. On the eve of the Great War, Djemal Bey had gained a reputation as the CUP’s “man of order.” As a result, he had become a prominent leader who could impact CUP policies and act with a certain degree of independence in his assignments. Djemal Bey was closer to military circles associated with Fethi Bey and Mustafa Kemal Bey, who were dissatisfied with Enver Bey.47 Both Djemal Bey and Fethi Bey often opposed the Central Committee’s policies and, as will be seen below, were inclined to act independently. Therefore, the Central Committee treated them with reservation, especially after the Raid on the Sublime Porte. The CUP supported Enver Bey in his conflict with Fethi during and after the Balkan Wars.48 Thus, Talat informed Djavid Bey on 17 June 1913 that Djemal Bey and Fethi Bey were “inconvenient” [ihtirāzāt] and would not be included in the new cabinet formed after Mahmut Shevket Pasha’s assassination.49 Moreover, Djemal Pasha was initially opposed to the Ottoman alliance with Germany50 and was thus excluded by the CUP from the negotiations with the Germans.51 According to Djavid Bey, Djemal Pasha, who was Minister of the Navy, was not informed about the arrival of German warships at Istanbul. When he learned about the development, he strongly denounced Enver Pasha.52 Mustafa Kemal Bey and other prominent figures of the Turkish War of Independence belonged to Djemal Pasha’s faction. Zürcher wrote, “Mustafa Kemal has said in his memoirs that he was in touch with Cemal [sic] ‘day and night’ after the revolution and that Cemal had a special bond of friendship with him. Rauf (Orbay) says that Cemal introduced Mustafa Kemal to him in 1909.”53 In most cases, Mustafa Kemal Bey and Fethi Bey opposed Enver by supporting Djemal Pasha.54 Djemal Pasha’s faction in the Ottoman civil bureaucracy originated in the friendships he had formed during his revolutionary times in Salonika and later. Unlike those groups within the army, the networks within the civil bureaucracy were somewhat fluid because of the nature of the bureaucratic hierarchy. It is therefore difficult to draw a precise picture of civilian factions. However, some of his high-ranking work comrades in Syria during World War I gave clues about his

16  M. Talha Çiçek networks within the bureaucracy that help clarify the interaction between military and civil factions supporting Djemal Pasha. Tahsin Bey [Uzer] had been a prominent CUP member and for a short time joined the Central Committee after the revolution, when he was sub-governor of Salonika [Selanik Merkez Kaymakamlığı]. Afterwards he served in important positions such as sub-district governor of Pera [Beyoğlu], governor of Van, and governor of Erzerum. He was also an old acquaintance of Djemal Pasha’s future friends Djemal Azmi Bey and Fethi Bey. Fethi Bey had already been Tahsin Bey’s “bosom friend” in the years before the 1908 Revolution. Together they had organized a group to combat Bulgarian gangs in Macedonia. Similarly, Tahsin Bey and Djemal Azmi Bey became friends in Macedonia before the revolution, during the latter’s sub-governorate in Avrathisar. When the Bulgarian authorities complained about Tahsin Bey to the Ottoman government because of his involvement in gang activities during his sub-governorate in Razlik, Djemal Azmi Bey was assigned to investigate the case. His positive report saved Tahsin Bey from punishment, and the two men became close friends.55 After the revolution, they worked together in Salonika and Istanbul (under Djemal’s military governorate) against the CUP’s opponents. Tahsin Bey would cooperate closely with Djemal Pasha during his military governorate of Istanbul.56 Djemal Azmi Bey had been a founding member of the CUP. Later, he occupied crucial positions such as police director of Istanbul. He had cooperated closely with Djemal Bey in the restoration of the committee’s control in Istanbul after the counter-revolution of 190957 and played a critical role in maintaining its control over Istanbul and in preventing a counter-revolution in 1913.58 In addition, Djemal Pasha established good relations with notable Turkist intellectuals, who were also prominent within the CUP. He had been influential in various Turkist societies since their creation. He headed the Turkist paramilitary youth organization Türk Gücü [Turkish Strength], established in 1913,59 and was strongly involved in the important Turkist society Turkish Hearth [Türk Ocağı]. While both Talat Bey and Djemal Bey participated in the association’s meetings, it seems that they supported different factions within that organization. Djemal Bey was close to a more moderate and liberal group, which included people such as Hamdullah Subhi Bey and Halide Edib Hanım,60 while Talat Bey was closer to a pan-Turkist group who entertained also racist inclinations. Ziya Gökalp, its leader, hated Djemal Bey.61 Towards the end of the war, Hamdullah Subhi Bey became the president of the Ocak with the support of the vast majority of its members. Djemal Pasha supported the faction and alienated the organization from Enver Pasha and Talat Pasha.62 The political views of the Turkist faction close to Djemal Pasha became evident during the war years. Hamdullah Subhi Bey visited him there with a group of intellectuals and propagated his views about reforms in Syria.63 According to Yahya Kemal Bey, the group around Halide Edib Hanım and Hamdullah Subhi Bey defended a well-defined Turkism that could be understood as nationalism rather than an ambiguous pan-Turanism. They had liberal political ideas and disagreed with the CUP’s Central Committee for several reasons. For example,

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  17 Mehmed Emin Bey [Yurdakul], an influential supporter of the group, had fallen into disfavor on account of his support of persecuted Armenians. Halide Edib Hanım had given a lecture at the Ocak denouncing the Armenian massacres.64 On the other hand, Ziya Gökalp Bey’s faction did not “approve” of these opinions and defended the pan-Turanist “pipe dream” [ham hayal]. These differences made apparent the splits among the Turkists. The Central Committee opposed the first group, and its suspicions were strong enough for Halide Edib Hanım to be monitored by police. Finally, it was impossible for her to stay in Istanbul, and she went to join Djemal Pasha in Syria.65 These groups supported Djemal Pasha as an alternative to the other Unionist leaders in Istanbul. He represented the groups and served as a counterbalance to the other prominent actors. Hüseyin Cahid Bey, who was not close to him, proposed Djemal Pasha as the Minister of the Interior to Mahmut Shevket Pasha. The latter, however, refused on the grounds that a disagreement existed between the CUP leaders and that this could cause new disorders among the young officers.66 The Grand Vizier presumably meant the factional struggles among the Unionists of the CUP and the army. After that, Fethi Bey took a leading role in the efforts to promote Djemal Bey. He and his friends tried to have Djemal Bey nominated as the Minister of the Interior, replacing Talat Bey, during a reshuffle of the cabinet following Mahmud Shevket Pasha’s assassination. Djemal Bey later claimed that he gave precedence to Talat Bey. Moreover, the group endeavored to nominate Djemal Bey as the Minister of War as an alternative to Enver Pasha.67 Again, Djemal Bey was opposed by the other groups in the committee; he was assigned to the command of the Fourth Army and removed from the capital.68 Towards the end of the war, this group attempted in the Meclis-i Meb’usan under the coordination of Fethi Bey to seize power and establish Djemal Pasha as the head of government. Fethi Bey hoped to organize dissatisfied deputies against Talat’s government.69 Having come to the conclusion that the Ottoman Empire had lost the war, the men believed that what was needed was a new policy under a new grand vizier, namely Djemal Pasha.70 The plan failed, however, as it did not gain enough support in the Meclis.71 In another attempt at the end of the war, Mustafa Kemal Pasha demanded from the Sultan the appointment of Fethi Bey, Tahsin Bey, Rauf Bey, Djemal Azmi Bey, and himself as ministers in a cabinet under Ahmet Izzet Pasha.72 All of the men belonged to Djemal Pasha’s CUP faction. After the war, Djemal Pasha himself had a plan to take over the Ottoman government. His chief of staff, Ali Fuad Bey [Erden], stated that his commander “had an idea that Enver’s role would be terminated after the war. For the Grand Vizier Talat Pasha, he said [that] ‘the best [job] for him was to be the head of the party.’ Thus, the most suitable candidate for the grand vizierate would be [Djemal] himself.”73 While Djavid Bey considered a government under Djemal Pasha to be an option for the Unionists, both Djemal Pasha and Fethi Bey were working towards that goal.74 The publication of Djemal Pasha’s memoirs shortly after the war in Turkish, German, and English, as well as their apologetic tone, can be interpreted as part of this scheme. Although Djemal Pasha’s plans failed, his faction played

18  M. Talha Çiçek a central role in the organization of the Turkish War of Independence, and some members were among the leaders of the new Republic of Turkey.

Factional struggles in Syria during Djemal Pasha’s rule It seems that the two major Unionist factions—civilians and army officers— were in control in the capital during the war period. With German support, Enver Pasha maintained close control over the army and began to extend his authority over the whole government75 and also, to some extent, the CUP.76 The civil faction in charge of the party’s Central Committee had a dominant influence on the civil government and competed with its rivals in the army.77 In 1917, the Central Committee secured Talat Bey’s appointment as Grand Vizier in order to counterbalance Enver Pasha’s increasing influence in government and in the party.78 Talat Bey’s main motive for accepting the grand vizierate was to end the government’s “dissonant” [ahenksiz] mode of operation.79 When Talat Pasha was promoted to the grand vizierate, he immediately considered replacing Djemal Pasha with Rauf Bey as Minister of the Navy.80 Rauf Bey was a prominent member of the antiEnver Pasha faction in the army and close to Djemal Pasha. Therefore, he could have acted as a counterweight to the Minister of War in the cabinet. However, due to “inconvenient circumstances,” Talat Pasha did not dare to dismiss Djemal Pasha.81 Similarly, Talat Pasha rejected the suggestion to appoint Ismail Djanbolat Bey as Minister of Interior on the grounds that this could cause a serious conflict with the Minister of War.82 During the Great War, the CUP leaders who had been appointed as governors in the provinces jealously guarded their authority in relation to the central government and exhibited a considerable degree of independence in their actions. Rahmi Bey, for example, enjoyed broad autonomy in Smyrna. He acted like a viceroy and arbitrarily implemented the central government’s orders. Muhittin Bey [Birgen], the chief editor of the CUP’s Tanin newspaper, stated that, if a governor who had not been a CUP member had done 10 percent of what Rahmi Bey did, he would have been dismissed immediately. He had ruled Smyrna as if the province was not a part of the empire. Therefore, the population had remained relatively sheltered from the miseries of the war.83 Talat Bey sent Celal Bey [Bayar] to Smyrna as a local CUP secretary in an attempt to restrict the governor’s influence. Similarly, Azmi Bey in Trebizond and Dr. Reshid in Diyarbekir enjoyed much greater authority than that of ordinary governors.84 A recent study described the “self-decreed” character of Reshid’s governorate in Diyarbekir: [T]he governor of Diarbekir enjoyed a remarkable degree of freedom of action for executing central government orders. In essence, the Ottoman central authorities were result-focused and let Reshid Bey conduct his business as he liked. The execution of the central government arrest and later deportation orders provided Reshid Bey with an opportunity to reshape Diarbekir’s provincial administration according to his own designs. He purged the administration of unwanted individuals through recalls and even murder. In

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  19 prominent cases like those of the two Mardin district governors Hilmi Bey and Shefik Bey, Reshid Bey disregarded the instructions and wishes of the central authorities and pushed through his own candidate, Bedri Bey. The latter shared his political views and the determination to act outside the law and commit any crime that his immediate superior deemed to be expedient. Additionally, the governor created new executive institutions, the so-called ‘advisory board’ and a militia. Both were not part of the Ottoman administrative framework. In other words, while endeavoring to eliminate all elements of opposition from the provincial administration, Reshid Bey created a secondary executive structure exclusively dependent on him, with its own accounts and reporting.85 Djemal’s governorate in Syria was the most extensive regional one. Unlike the governors, he was not only a CUP leader who enjoyed the support of a faction, as described in the previous section, but also a military commander who could overrule the bureaucracy in the Syrian lands. According to Ali Fuad Bey, he was the “uncrowned king” of Syria, who minimized the influence of the central government.86 He ruled the Syrian lands, to a large extent, as a single and integrated unit that was distinct from other parts of the empire. The factional differences and competition described above were conspicuous during the reorganization of the Syrian bureaucracy under Djemal Pasha. In response to his removal from Istanbul, he was unwilling to allow his fellow party members in the central government to interfere in the affairs of Syria, despite the fact that they were officially senior bureaucrats.87 He paid careful attention to the appointment of high-ranking officials so that these would be close to him politically. Djemal Pasha’s relationship with the governors of Beirut and Syria, Azmi and Tahsin Beys, were good representative examples in this regard. On the other hand, the commander’s efforts to secure their appointment to Syria indicated the existence of factional struggles there during his tenure. Starting with the Arab Congress held in Paris in 1913, the Unionist policies of centralization regarding the Syrian lands underwent a transformation. The Arabists demanded both that the language of instruction in Ottoman state schools within the Arab regions should be Arabic and that local officials had to be fluent in Arabic. Talat Bey invited the congress participants to Istanbul in order to discuss their reform demands. As a result, the Ottoman government initiated a new program. Ottoman bureaucrats lacking knowledge of Arabic were to be replaced. At the same time the government established a commission for Arabic teaching [Arabça Tedrisat Komisyonu] at Istanbul University [Darulfunun]. Moreover, the government ordered high-ranking bureaucrats to establish good relations with Arab notables. In other words, Talat Bey launched a well-planned dialogue with the Arabist opposition.88 The arrival of Djemal Pasha in Syria, however, marked the beginning of the end for Ottoman reconciliation with the Arabists. He favored the consolidation of state authority through the elimination of such local intermediaries as notables, Zionist representatives, and the Christian clergy. Therefore, he worked for direct Ottoman state control of the Syrians. The execution of Arabist

20  M. Talha Çiçek notables, the suppression of the Zionist movement and the Christian clergy, and the ending of autonomous rule in Mount Lebanon were components of this policy.89 From its foundation, the CUP propagated direct state control over secondary, local, and autonomous bodies. Thus, any success along these lines in the Syrian lands was bound to bring prestige to Djemal Pasha as a provincial reformer among Unionists. Like Midhat Pasha, Djemal Pasha was to become a promising candidate for the grand vizierate in the post-war period. Djemal Pasha asserted his authority over the local bureaucracy in Syria with an iron fist. Shortly after the failure of his attack on the Suez Canal, he devoted a large part of his energy to the consolidation of Ottoman state authority. Thus, he reorganized the bureaucracy in order to sustain his planned reforms. Djemal Pasha replaced many bureaucrats who did not meet his expectations according to various criteria. Importantly, many of the high-ranking military and civil officials who served in Syria during the war entertained close personal relations with the Fourth Army commander before their assignment. It should be noted that Djemal Pasha was often unable to secure their appointment without difficulty. He had to persuade the central authorities to assign them to Syria. As the the latter, and particularly Talat Pasha, did not want to cede control over Syria to him, Djemal Pasha tried to install officials within the local bureaucracy who were loyal to him.90 Another method employed was to deny Djemal Pasha the appointment of his own candidates. For instance, he had to negotiate with Talat Pasha for about nine months before he secured Tahsin Bey’s transfer to Syria and, in order to succeed, had Talat Pasha dismiss three governors who had been appointed without Djemal Pasha’s consent. Similarly, Hulusi Bey’s resignation as governor of Syria province resulted from Djemal Pasha’s frequent interventions with the provincial authorities.91 On 30 September 1915, Djemal Pasha had for the first time requested the appointment of Tahsin Bey to Syria.92 After that, he demanded the dismissal of three governors, Tawfiq Bey, Ahmet Faik Bey, and Azmi Bey.93 Djemal Azmi’s appointment as the governor of Beirut had been a comparably less complicated matter and took place before that of Tahsin Bey. At first, Djemal Pasha requested that Azmi Bey, who was governor of Konia, be appointed as the governor of Lebanon for implementing the reforms—in other words, the abolition of the Mutasarrifiyya’s autonomous status. Djemal Pasha suggested that Azmi Bey should be promoted to the rank of vizierate and would thus have all the authority of a governor of Mount Lebanon.94 Instead, Talat Bey offered to appoint Azmi Bey for both the independent district of Mount Lebanon and Beirut province. Djemal Pasha, however, rejected the proposal, arguing that it was impossible for one man to carry out the important reforms in both regions at the same time.95 Thus, Talat Bey appointed his close friend Ali Münif Bey to Mount Lebanon while confirming Azmi Bey’s appointment as governor of Beirut.96 Ali Münif Bey claimed that he had been assigned to Mount Lebanon in order to counter Djemal Pasha’s role in Greater Syria and thus came into frequent conflict with the commander over the latter’s way of ruling.97 His appointment could thus be seen as part of wider hostilities between Djemal Pasha and Talat Bey and their respective factions over Syria. Interestingly, Ismail Djanbolad Bey, one of Talat

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  21 Bey’s closest associates, had been among Djemal Pasha’s candidates for both Syria province and Mount Lebanon.98 In view of Djemal Pasha’s accusation that Ismail Djanbolad Bey undermined his influence within the CUP and government at a later date, Djemal Pasha’s insistence on his appointment to Syria and Mount Lebanon might be interpreted as a move to weaken Talat Bey’s group in Istanbul by neutralizing one of its key members.99 On the other hand, considering the fluctuation between the factions within the CUP, another possibility was that Djemal Pasha had been trying to win over Djanbolad Bey, one of the committee’s strongest men, to his side. Aleppo province was another area where Djemal Pasha had to compete with the Central Committee and Talat Bey. The city was the transition point between Syria and Anatolia. It was also of vital importance, as Armenian deportees were assembling there before being allocated to their destination areas. Given the “importance” to Talat Bey of the Armenian deportations, he did not want to leave the province in the hands of an “untrusted” person and preferred to appoint a “reliable” official there. After the dismissal of Djelal Bey,100 who had opposed the bad treatment of the Armenians101 in June 1915, the Ministry of the Interior transferred the governor of Beirut, Bekir Sami Bey, to Aleppo. Bekir Sami Bey had encountered problems with Djemal Pasha during his time in Beirut. At Aleppo he also came under criticism from Talat Bey because of his protection of Armenian deportees and his reluctance to follow up on deportation policies. As a result, Djemal Pasha and Talat Bey agreed on the governor’s dismissal. Following Bekir Sami Bey’s departure, Talat Bey and Djemal Pasha negotiated the appointment of a new governor. First, Djemal Pasha proposed Kazım Bey, one of his political allies and a former governor of Salonika.102 Thus, when the Ministry of the Interior appointed Mazhar Bey to Aleppo, Djemal Pasha wrote to Talat Bey: You removed Djelal Bey from here. Although I cannot object to this [action], what is the point in sending Mazhar Bey when there is no chance that I can get along with him? And now, if you send another person with a weak character, I will have no choice other than to fire him personally. I am quite serious. Please find a solution to this.103 After this strong warning, Talat Bey appointed Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey [Renda], an individual prominent in the CUP and close to Talat Bey’s faction, whom Djemal Pasha could not oppose.104 However, it is unlikely that the appointment reduced Djemal Pasha’s authority in the region. One fundamental reason behind Djemal Pasha’s efforts to replace high-ranking bureaucrats in his territory with officials close to him was to overcome opposition by Talat Bey’s officials to his policies within the Syrian provinces. Almost all high-ranking governors had resisted Djemal Pasha’s policies of eliminating local notables, with whom they had maintained good relations. Moreover, Djemal Pasha’s ambitions to dominate the civil bureaucracy in the Syrian lands formed another major motive for their resistance. As a result, either the officials resigned or Djemal Pasha had them removed.

22  M. Talha Çiçek Hulusi Bey was the most pronounced critic of Djemal Pasha’s way of government. While he objected to numerous of the commander’s measures, his severest criticisms targeted Djemal Pasha’s entourage in Syria. According to Hulusi Bey, Shakib Arslan “invented various bluffs under the veil of his committee membership to obtain [personal] interests and influence [Te’min-i nüfuz ve menfaat perdesi altında türlü blöfler icat eyler].” His main goal was “to secure his appointment to the governorate of Mount Lebanon [Cebel mutasarrıflığına ta’yin esbabını te’min].” Asad al-Shukairi was “the incarnation of a demon who had been expelled from paradise [Cennetten tard edilen İblis’in dünya’da şekl-i beşeriyete girmişidir].” Abd al-Rahman al-Yusuf was an opportunist who was “inclined to serve [the goals] of any powerful side [her ne taraf kavi ise derhal o cihetin amaline mütemayildir].” As for Muhammad Kurd Ali, “There is nobody in the Syrian lands, aside from a few self-seeking individuals and sycophants, who does not know about his malign intent and who does not curse him behind his back [Suriye kıtasında bunun seyyiatını bilmedik ve ani’l-kıyab kendisine lanet-han olmadık birkaç dalkavuk ve menfaatperestten başka kimse bulunamaz].” Despite the failure of his campaign against Egypt, these individuals praised Djemal Pasha to the skies in meetings and newspaper columns. According to Hulusi Bey, Djemal Pasha had included these harmful and unpopular figures in his entourage because he had become a “megalomaniac.” However, the Syrians were innately inquisitive [mütecessis] and intelligent. Thus, they would realize the lies of these individuals and react accordingly at the first opportunity.105 Hulusi Bey was disturbed both by Djemal Pasha’s meddling in the provincial administration and by his attempts to dominate the bureaucracy. The governor claimed that the Fourth Army command had been unjustly treating honest state officials. For example, the provincial financial director had been close to arrest for implementing his orders from the Ministry of Finance. Hulusi Bey also complained about the dictatorial and “thoughtless [münasebetsiz]” non-coded telegrams Djemal Pasha and other officials been receiving. The commander regularly threatened civil bureaucrats and interfered with any aspect of their work. The governor made it clear that he was resigning, on the pretext of illness, only to avoid further complications in the orderly functioning of the provincial administration.106 Hulusi Bey also criticized Djemal Pasha’s propaganda activities. He opposed the planned publication of a newspaper in Damascus called al-Sharq. Since it would be published by Germans, the newspaper would merely serve German interests. Thus, Hulusi had drafted an order prohibiting its publication, but Djemal Pasha had ignored the order. The governor stated that, unless the newspaper was published at Istanbul and in Turkish, it would favor Germany and threaten to undermine Ottoman influence.107 Another target of Hulusi Bey’s criticism was Djemal Pasha’s propaganda activities in Istanbul. Towards the end of 1915, the commander sent a delegation of Syrian notables to Istanbul and Gallipoli in order to promote Djemal Pasha’s activities and to express the Syrians’ loyalty to the Caliph. Thus, the Fourth Army commander described the delegation’s members as Syria’s most distinguished personalities and asked Talat Bey to treat them with particular honors. If the central authorities were to extend particular hospitality

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  23 to the guests, the population would be more satisfied with the Ottoman government.108 For his part, Hulusi Bey described the delegation in a negative light. He claimed that its members had a bad reputation among the Syrians and were not from the province’s influential circles. He therefore warned that a reception by the Sultan, an event Djemal Pasha had suggested as being helpful for his propaganda efforts, would harm the Sultan’s prestige among the Syrians.109 Towards the end of Hulusi Bey’s tenure at Damascus, his relations with Djemal Pasha deteriorated to such a level that he did not inform the latter about his resignation.110 Karl Ranzi, the Austro-Hungarian consul general in Damascus, attributed the governor’s resignation to his disagreements with Djemal Pasha. According to the official, Hulusi Bey had opposed Djemal Pasha’s execution of Arab notables and the commander’s arbitrary conduct. Ranzi remarked that the resignation had caused sincere regret among the local population.111 Ahmed Rasim, the reporter of the Tasvir-i Efkar newspaper in Syria, shared this assessment and confirmed Hulusi Bey’s rejection of Djemal Pasha’s measures against the Arabists.112 Nor were Djemal Pasha’s relations with other provincial governors free of tensions. The disagreements between the army commander and Bekir Sami Bey, the governor of Beirut, were particularly serious. The latter entertained good relations with local notables and was opposed to Djemal Pasha’s draconian policies.113 Since his arrival in Syria, Djemal Pasha had sought to dismiss Bekir Sami Bey from his position. He accused the governor of gambling [bahis] with bank managers in Beirut114 and of extortion [irtikab].115 Because of Djemal Pasha’s insistence, the central authorities transferred Bekir Sami to Aleppo.116 After his recall from that position, he lived, according to a British report, in retirement at Tokat.117 The Ministry of the Interior also removed the governor of Jerusalem, Madjid Bey, for similar reasons.118 The dismissal of these bureaucrats allowed Djemal Pasha to create a more homogeneous bureaucracy in Syria which could be viewed as a single unit. Djemal Pasha also became involved in the appointment of capable low-ranking officials. In their case, factional allegiance was less important than more concrete criteria, such as being “energetic,” “brave,” “competent,” and a CUP member. All these qualities were consonant with Djemal Pasha’s goals. In line with his primary object of establishing full state control, he sought to work with officials who shared his vision. Thus, he also demanded the replacement of sub-governors who were of Arab extraction with officials who were not Arabs.119 Djemal Pasha also recruited a number of competent advisors who worked with him in a role akin to that of a minister in his private cabinet during the Great War. For instance, Halide Edib Hanım [Adivar] became his “minister of education” and worked on the reorganization of Ottoman schools in Syria. Falih Rıfkı [Atay] was responsible for public relations and tried to popularize his superior’s exploits in Syria. The German engineer Meissner Pasha was in charge of railroad construction, while professor Zürcher worked on the modernization of Syrian cities. The archeologist Theodor Wiegand organized the restoration of historical monuments.120 As was described above, factional competition did not end with Djemal Pasha’s return to Istanbul at the end of 1917. On the contrary, his allies121 tried to secure

24  M. Talha Çiçek his appointment as Grand Vizier. However, his independent course of action had irritated Talat Pasha’s faction. The latter group considered that the formation of a new government depended primarily on those party members in the Central Committee, thus hoping to exclude Djemal Pasha from power. Talat Pasha, in particular, promoted this idea.122 Although the plan failed, the Grand Vizier nevertheless consolidated his influence in the cabinet at the cost of the army faction by including such prominent members of his group as Dr. Nazım, Ismail Djanbolad Bey, and Rahmi Bey.123 But, understanding that Djemal Pasha would not change his mode of operation, Talat Pasha became determined to exclude him from the cabinet not long before the end of the war.124 Within a short while, however, the entire CUP leadership, including Talat Pasha, had to leave both the government and the country. Following Djemal Pasha’s departure from Syria, those governors who had been close to him continued to object to Ottoman central government policies. This was largely a result of the former Fourth Army commander’s way of governing in Syria. When in 1918 the central authorities decided to change the way the tithe [aşar] was to be collected, the problems became apparent, and the issue furnished the government with an opportunity to reassert its authority. In fact, the central government had already made the decision in 1917, but Djemal Pasha had prevented its implementation in Syria. The governors of Syria, Aleppo, and Beirut, Djavid Bey argues, tried to replace Djemal Pasha by opposing the new practice of tithe collection. First, they pointed out to the Ministry of the Interior that it was impossible to implement it. When the ministry rejected their argument, they appealed to the Central Committee and the Ministry of War. These attempts also failed, as the Ministry of Finance, with the support of Talat Pasha, insisted on its original orders.125 Still, despite their clear orders, the governors refused to implement the new measures. Tahsin Bey cabled the Minister of Finance, Djavid Bey, stating that he was collecting the tithe in line with the old regulations. In response, Talat Pasha warned the governors that they had either to implement the new method or to resign. Nevertheless, the governors proceeded as before. In a move to secure the governors’ compliance, Djavid Bey instructed the provincial treasurers [defterdar] in the region to withhold money from them. In the end, both Tahsin Bey and Azmi Bey, the governors of Syria and Beirut, resigned from their posts. Given the critical wartime conditions, Talat Pasha tried to find a way out of the stand-off. Djavid Bey, however, insisted on implementing the measures. He later described the entire conflict as a “disciplining” [muamele-i te’dibiye] of the governors. The central government used the opportunity to reassert its power in Syria following Djemal Pasha’s resignation from the command of the Fourth Army. Djemal Pasha, for his part, intervened on behalf of Tahsin Bey, pointing out to Djavid that his resignation would be a disaster for Syria. Djavid Bey, however, replied that the situation was in anarchy and that it was impossible to keep the two governors in their posts. Djemal Pasha used this statement as an occasion to criticize the Grand Vizier and claimed that “nothing could come out under Talat Pasha’s rule but anarchy.”126

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  25 Djemal Pasha and his faction also differed from other Unionist groups vis-à-vis the political issues regarding the Syrian lands. As was detailed earlier, Talat was more tolerant about the Arabist demands and negotiated with them before the war. Although he saw any opposition as an obstacle to the unity of the Ottomans and did not oppose Djemal’s draconian policies in Syria, Talat found these policies inappropriate and dangerous in the war circumstances.127 Their attitude regarding the Zionist movement also differed somewhat. Although all the Unionist factions saw Zionism—like other decentralist, nationalist movements—as a threat to Ottoman unity, the factions in Istanbul were influenced more by the Zionist leaders and Germany regarding the policies implemented against the former. They were able to prevent Djemal Pasha from destroying the Zionist organization in Palestine by way of using the German and Zionist influence over the military and civil factions of the CUP in Istanbul.128 The greatest divergence between the two factions was manifested in the Armenian deportations. As in his approach to Arabism and Zionism, Djemal tried to increase the state’s control over the Armenians by partitioning them into small groups in Syria. In this way, the Armenians would be prevented from becoming a political threat to “the unity of the Ottomans” in the future. Although this policy was a kind of ethnic engineering, it is noteworthy that Djemal did not aim at the Turkification or Islamization of the deported Armenian community, as is generally claimed in the existing literature. His actions were mainly an attempt to “shape” the conduct of the Armenians in the interests of Ottoman unity. In complete contrast to the group around Talat, those around Djemal Pasha were generally critical of the massacres perpetrated against the Armenians and were antagonized by Talat’s faction. The absence of any massacre of the Armenian deportees stemmed mainly from Djemal Pasha and his firm position against the murderers.129

Conclusion The CUP brought together under the same roof various factions who pursued similar goals in a multifaceted structure that shaped Ottoman government policies after the 1908 Revolution. CUP interference in governance continued until 1926, when Mustafa Kemal Pasha executed a number of its remaining leaders. The CUP struggled to maintain its power with a decentralist opposition and the old Ottoman bureaucracy until the Raid on the Sublime Porte in 1913. To some extent, these conflicts prevented factional struggles from becoming visible within the committee. Once the organization enjoyed full control over the government, internal splits became apparent among the Unionists. Thus, conflicts between the civilians and the officers of the CUP gained momentum as well as internal competition within these groups. In the course of these clashes, three main factions were formed: the civilians, the military, and the third faction. The civilian faction represented mainly the members of the Central Committee, while the military faction comprised the organization’s young officers. The third faction’s members included both officers and civilians. All factions promoted the integrity of the Ottoman

26  M. Talha Çiçek Empire, but their methods were different. The officers adhered, in general, to panIslamist and pan-Turanist ideas, while the civilians often entertained racist views. The third faction was more moderate and was the one faction that also influenced the founding ideology of the republic. The members defended a clear-cut Ottoman nationalism and were opposed to foreign influence. They aimed at strengthening the central government’s authority throughout the Ottoman territory as Djemal Pasha did in the Syrian lands during the war. The latter was the most prominent member of this faction. While the support of his faction made him untouchable throughout the war, his power still depended on the support of this group. Many of the high-ranking bureaucrats and officers who served in Syria during the Great War were closer to the third faction. Djemal Pasha had worked hard to secure the appointment of his men to Syria. Although he and his faction lost some ground in Istanbul, Djemal Pasha was successful in obtaining full control over the civil and military bureaucracy of Syria. His aims were to be successful in Syria and then to reach the apex of the Ottoman government. Although the plan failed, his faction dominated the Turkish War of Independence and became the founders of modern Turkey.

Notes    1 Hüseyin Cahid Yalçın published the diaries of Djavid Bey in the Tanin newspaper between 1943 and 1945. The material includes valuable information regarding the CUP’s perception of the political opposition. See, for instance, Tanin, 28–30 September 1943 and 1–4 October 1943.    2 Falih Rıfkı stated that the CUP expanded to several branches around several leaders. It was not accurate to call any of them one the Unionist! During the Great War the [term] Unionist described the anonymous and insignificant [silik] components. At that time, the label that stuck to an individual was the word ‘man’: Djemal Pasha’s man, Enver Pasha’s man, Talat Pasha’s man . . . It would be more accurate, once the groups became large enough, to call them Talat Pasha’s team, Enver Pasha’s team, and Djemal Pasha’s team. (Falih Rıfkı, Zeytindağı, p. 22) Likewise, in 1923 Ismail Mushtak accused Falih Rıfkı of being Djemal Pasha’s man and of obscuring the latter’s responsibility in his writing. Ismail Mushtak, “Yine Muhallebi Hikayesi,” Tanin, 21 April 1923; “Bataklığın Yanından Geçerken,” Tanin, 22 April 1923, in ISUL, Taha Toros Archives, Djemal Pasha Files.   3 According the Djavid Bey, even before the Raid on the Sublime Porte, the CUP paid Ali Kemal Bey through Fethi Bey. Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet Devrine Ait Cavit Bey’in Hatıraları-58,” Tanin, 23 October 1943, entry for 29 November 1908.   4 A recent study by Hilmar Kaiser on the extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir region illustrates how Dr. Reshid used his unrestricted authority in Diarbekir: Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in Diarbekir Region.   5 For a study on Djemal Pasha’s governorate in Syria, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria.

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  27   6 For some studies on the CUP, see Hanioğlu, Preparation for a Revolution and Young Turks in Opposition; Mardin, Jön Türklerin Siyasi Fikirleri; and Tunaya, Türkiye’de Siyasi Partiler III.   7 Hanioğlu, Preparation, pp. 130–47; Eyicil, İttihat ve Terakki Liderlerinden Doktor Nazım Bey; Aydoğan and Eyyüpoğlu, Bahaeddin Şakir Bey’in Bıraktığı Vesikalara göre İttihat ve Terakki.   8 Hanioğlu, Preparation, pp. 130–47; Eyicil, Doktor Nazım Bey; Aydoğan and Eyyüpoğlu, İttihat ve Terakki.   9 Aydoğan and Eyyüpoğlu, İttihat ve Terakki, pp. 223–36.   10 Hanioğlu, Preparation, pp. 210–78. Remarks by Midhat Shukri Bey, who served as the CUP’s secretary general for a long time, imply that there was a mutual acquaintance between the Paris center and the revolutionaries in Salonika. Bleda, İmparatorluğun Çöküşü, p. 24.   11 Hanioğlu, Preparation, p. 212; Tarık Zafer Tunaya considered the Ottoman Freedom Society to have been the “real” CUP [asıl İttihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti]. According to his assessments, the revolution was planned by the revolutionaries of the Ottoman Freedom Society rather than the CUP organizations outside: Tunaya, Türkiye’de Siyasi Partiler: İttihat ve Terakki, p. 27. Similarly, a recent study defines the 1908 Revolution as basically a Balkan movement: Tekeli and İlkin, “Bir Başkaldırı Odağı ve Ortamı Olarak Selanik ve Makedonya,” pp. 213–47. Hanioğlu made an extensive examination of the CUP’s activities inside and outside the Ottoman Empire and demonstrated how the revolutionaries of the committee, Dr. Bahaeddin Shakir and Dr. Nazım, created the infrastructure for the revolution. Hanioğlu, Preparation, ch. 6 and ch. 8.   12 Ibid., p. 210.   13 For information on the activities of the Monastır branch under the leadership of Enver before the revolution, see Karabekir, İttihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti, ch. 2 and ch. 3.   14 Ibid., p. 108.   15 Bleda, İmparatorluğun Çöküşü, pp. 34–40. Because of his loyalty to the orders of the CUP, Enver was promoted by the Central Committee as the “hero of freedom” against the untrusted Niyazi Bey of Resina. For detail, see: Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, pp. 92–4.   16 Uzer, Makedonya Eşkıyalık Tarihi ve Son Osmanlı Yönetimi, p. 89.   17 For an example, see Birgen, İttihat ve Terakki’de On Sene, p. 79.   18 Hanioğlu, Preparation, p. 79.   19 For example, he publicly “punished” the police commissioner Mehmet Refik Bey. He also deposed two Ottoman army officers without official investigation. Moreover, he prevented Prince Sabahaddin Bey’s group from establishing a branch at Smyrna, which was one of the first examples of the CUP’s intolerance towards opposition. For details, see Eyicil, Doktor Nazım Bey, pp. 112–23.   20 Hüseyin Kazım Bey’s conflict with CUP members in Siroz is one example. Following the proclamation of the 1908 Revolution he was visited by a CUP delegate, who told him that he “should cooperate with the committee’s local branch in every [governmental] matter [bütün işlerde Cemiyet merkeziyle çalışmaklığım lazım geldiğini].” Probably trusting in his good relations with Talat Bey, Hüseyin Kazım Bey rejected the demand. Kadri, Meşrutiyetten Cumhuriyet’e Hatıralarım, pp. 77–8.   21 Hanioğlu, Preparation, p. 280.   22 Babacan, Mehmed Talât Paşa 1874–1921, pp. 56–8; Artuç, Cemal Paşa, p. 460.   23 Hanioğlu, Preparation, p. 281.   24 Ibid., p. 280.

28  M. Talha Çiçek   25 For a study on the CUP’s appointment of the political undersecretaries to the ministers, see Mehmetefendioğlu, “İttihat ve Terakki ve Siyasi Müsteşarlıklar,” pp. 32–7. See also Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet Devrine Ait Cavit Beyin Hatıraları-10,” Tanin, 8 September 1943.   26 Hanioğlu, Preparation, p. 279; Ziya Şakir notes that the Monastır branch proclaimed the constitution before the decision of the CUP’s Central Office in Salonika. All the members of the Central Committee were jealous of the popularity of the Monastır branch, which they feared would be a threat to them if they did not take preventative measures: Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, pp. 92–4.   27 Karabekir, İttihat ve Terakki, pp. 219–22.   28 According to Djavid Bey, the influential members of the committee’s civil faction— including Hajı Adil Bey, Eyup Sabri Bey (a young officer), Talat Bey, Djavid Bey, Hakkı Bey, and Halil Bey—were disturbed by the army’s role in politics. See Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet,” Tanin, 5 October 1943, entry for 1 May 1910. Naim Turfan and Feroz Ahmad interpreted the appointments as the result of the competition between Kamil Pasha and the CUP: Turfan, Rise of the Young Turks, p. 153; Ahmad, The Young Turks, p. 33. However, later studies demonstrate the power of the committee over the government. Hanioğlu remarked: At first, the Committee did not visibly take over the traditional institutions of power––the court and the Porte. But it did control their actions. Thus, if a governor seemed unreliable, the CUP would order the grand vizier to fire him. If a military unit war suspected of disloyalty, the Committee had the minister of war carry out a purge. Hanioğlu, A Brief History of the Late Ottoman Empire, pp. 158–9 Furthermore, some documents demonstrated the CUP’s influence on the functioning of the government. See Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet,” Tanin, 7 September 1943.   29 Before the 1908 Revolution, Fethi Bey was close to Enver Bey. When the Ottoman Freedom Society was established in Salonika, Fethi was a junior officer in Kesriye in Salonika. However, he was affiliated with the CUP through the agency of Enver in Monastır. Later, they would come into conflict regarding the role of the army in politics. For details of Fethi’s joining the committee, see Balkaya, Ali Fethi Okyar (29 Nisan 1880–7 Mayıs 1943), pp. 31–2.   30 Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 173.   31 Interpreting the incidents up to the beginning of the Balkan Wars, Ziya Şakir concluded that Enver Bey had not been among the key figures [asli erkan] of the CUP. He became an influential member after the 1913 Raid on the Sublime Porte: ibid., p. 97.   32 It would be wrong to think that all the independent offensives of the young officers resulted in success. On another occasion, for example, an initiative by Hafız Hakki resulted in great casualties for the Ottoman army. See Mahmut Shevket Pasha, “Not Defteri”, Hayat, 11 March 1965, entry for 9 April 1913.   33 For details as to how the raid took place, see Turfan, Young Turks, pp. 208–12; the way in which the Raid on Sublime Porte was carried out gives insight into the power balance in the committee. The raid was planned by Talat in Djemal’s room in Nuruosmaniye and implemented by Enver and his heroic group: Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 102.   34 Okyar and Seyitdanlıoğlu, Atatürk, Okyar ve Çok Partili Türkiye, p. 14; Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, pp. 118–19. Talat Bey thought that none of the Unionist officers was competent

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  29 to fill the position. Yet in July 1913 he told Djavid Bey that it was imperative to appoint a Unionist Minister of War in order to preempt any coup d’état against the CUP government. Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet,” Tanin, 29 May 1944, entry for 10 July 1913. Talat considered Enver as a future candidate for this post. Six months later, however, pressure from young officers in the army forced him to appoint Enver as the first Unionist minister in this post.   35 This was made possible by the retirement of high-ranking officers. For details of Enver Pasha’s reforms, see Erickson, Ottoman Army Effectiveness in World War I, pp. 8–12.   36 Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 35.   37 Ibid., p. 29.   38 In his diaries, Mahmut Shevket Pasha complains about Talat Bey’s intervention in government affairs: Mahmut Shevket Pasha, “Not Defteri,” Hayat, 4 March 1965, entry for 3 April 1913; “Not Defteri,” Hayat, 11 February 1965, entry for 17 March 1913.   39 He considered that undertaking a coup d’état as the Ottoman Empire was at war with the Balkan states would cause the absolute defeat of the state and thus should be avoided: Mustafa Ragıp Esatlı, “Fethi Bey,” newspaper clipping, ISUL, Taha Toros Archives, Fethi Okyar File. Some time after the incident, Fethi told Mahmut Shevket that “the government came to a dead end with the Raid on the Sublime Porte”: Mahmut Shevket Pasha, “Not Defteri,” Hayat, 14 January 1965, entry for 4 March 1913.   40 Zürcher, The Unionist Factor, p. 56.   41 Ziya Şakir writes that, after the raid, Enver was honored as “the conqueror of the Sublime Porte” [Bab-ı Ali Fatihi]: Paşalar, p. 110.   42 Zürcher, Unionist Factor, p. 53. Similarly, when a dispute occurred between Enver and Fethi during the Balkan Wars, the Minister of War, Izzet Pasha, discussed the problem with Djemal, and both decided to go and discuss it with Fethi. See Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet,” Tanin, 10 March 1944, entry for 23 February 1913.   43 Okyar and Seyitdanlıoğlu, Anıları, p. 11; Zürcher, Unionist Factor, p. 57. Djavid Bey stated that he and his friends became anxious that this disagreement took place because of jealous feelings between the two, and they worried about the future. But they were relieved when Talat explained that Fethi would leave the army and work together with him in the committee. For details, see Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet”, Tanin, 1 March 1944, entry for 9 February 1913.   44 Artuç, Cemal Paşa, pp. 19–24.   45 Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 172.   46 See, Djemal Pasha, Hatırat, pp. 1–16; Mahmut Şevket Paşa, “Not Defteri,” Hayat, 20 May 1965, entry for 8 May 1913; Mahmut Shevket Paşa, “Not Defteri,” Hayat, 17 June 1965, entry for 16 May 1913; Yahya Kemal, Siyasi ve Edebi Portreler, p. 109; Birgen, On Sene, p. 77; Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 175; Uzer, Makedonya Eşkıyalık Tarihi, p. 327; Falih Rıfkı, Zeytndağı, pp. 15–17. Djavid Bey’s diaries show that Djemal Bey’s name began to be mentioned among those who made the crucial decisions on behalf of the committee. Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet,” Tanin, 4 March 1944, entry for 14 February 1913; entries in Tanin, 10 March 1944, 23 April 1944.   47 While Mustafa Kemal was also opposed to the army’s dealing with politics, as an officer, he meddled in politics himself. For details, see Zürcher, Unionist Factor, ch. 2.   48 Mahmut Shevket Pasha, “Not Defteri,” Hayat, 28 January 1965, entry for 19 February 1913.   49 Djavid Bey, “Meşrutiyet,” Tanin, 18 May 1944, entry for 17 June 1913.   50 Djavid Bey, “Birinci Cihan Harbine Türkiye’nin Girmesi: Maliye Nazırı Cavit Beyin Notları,” Tanin, 9 November 1944, entry for 20 September 1914. Djavid writes in his

30  M. Talha Çiçek diaries in the following months that Djemal, Enver, and Talat believed in the advantages of entering the war: Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 22 November 1944, entry for 30 October 1914. Presumably, Djemal Pasha was persuaded by his friends of the benefits of an alliance with Germany. Contrary to what the memoirs of the prominent Unionists claim, Djavid Bey explains that Djemal Pasha was informed about the attack of the German warships Goeben and Breslau on the Russian fleet in the Black Sea: Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 18 November 1944, entry for 29 October 1914.   51 For details, see Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 15 October 1944, entry for 2 August 1914. For Djemal’s own remarks regarding his exclusion from the negotiations, see Djemal Pasha, Hatırat, pp. 89–98.   52 But, according to Djavid Bey, Enver Pasha did not go along with Djemal’s accusations. For details, see Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 24 October, 1944, entry for 20 August 1914. Djemal carried out negotiations with the British ambassador regarding an agreement between the Ottoman Empire and Great Britain. Upon the arrival of the German marine troops, however, the ambassador ended the negotiations: Djavid Bey, “Girmesi”, Tanin, 27 October 1944, entry for 27 August 1914.   53 Zürcher, Unionist Factor, p. 53.   54 Many examples of this can be found in chapter I of Fethi’s memoirs; see Okyar and Seyitdanlıoğlu, Anıları.   55 Uzer, Eşkıyalık Tarihi, pp. 128–9, 195, 255.   56 Ibid., pp. 242, 327. For examples of Tahsin and Djemal Azmi’s cooperation, see ibid., pp. 321–3.   57 Cemal Tepe, “Azmi Bey,” p. 34.   58 Ibid., pp. 50–52. For some observations, see also Yahya Kemal, Portreler, pp. 108–11.   59 Erol Köroğlu, Ottoman Propaganda and Turkish Identity, p. 59; in 1914 the organization became Osmanlı Güç Dernekleri [the Ottoman Power Associations].   60 Ibid., p. 65; Ali Fuad Erden states that Enver did not have any relationship with the intellectuals: Erden, Birinci Dünya Savaşı’nda Suriye Hatıraları, p. 284. The following remarks by Halide Edib Hanım to Djavid Bey are significant in terms of determining her political attitudes: When I was in Damascus, I did not believe in this news [the appointment of Djavid Bey as the Minister of Finance to Talat’s cabinet] in spite of his Excellency Talat Pasha’s telegram to Djemal Pasha. I began to communicate with the governors of the Syrian provinces to confirm this. “I said that Djavid Bey does not accept” . . . probably you considered this more appropriate for the country . . . I would be pleased if you would bring about a liberal [liberal] transformation in our domestic policy. Bardakçı, Talat Paşa’nın Evrak-ı Metrukesi, pp. 149–50.   61 Mehmet Emin Erişirgil relates an interesting occasion that demonstrates the relationship between Ziya Gökalp and Djemal Pasha. At the end of 1917, the members of the Faculty of Arts in Istanbul University [Dar al-Funun] organized a meeting in honor of Djemal Pasha. When the latter entered into the room and sat in his seat, Ziya Gökalp turned to the associate professor next to him and said, “That pride is the reason why I don’t like this man. Where is Enver Pasha, where is this man?” While he was speaking, there was a look of hatred on his face: Erişirgil, Ziya Gökalp, p. 157.   62 Köroğlu, Ottoman Propaganda, p. 216; Yahya Kemal’s testimony confirms this separation among the Turkists: Yahya Kemal, Portreler, p. 39; Ali Fuad Erden notes that

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  31 Djemal enjoyed close relations with Hamdullah Subhi, Celal Sahir, Yakup Kadri and Falih Rıfkı, all of whom had Turkist inclinations and became influential intellectuals during the republic. See Erden, Suriye Hatıraları, p. 284.   63 For details, see Salim Tamari’s chapter in this book.   64 Yahya Kemal, Portreler, pp. 32–9; Djemal Pasha had also opposed the extermination of the Armenians and had adopted a policy to protect them. Thus, his motives were impugned by Bahaeddin Shakir and his friends: Falih Rıfkı, Zeytindağı, p. 64. He had made several attempts to save the Armenian deputies Zohrab and Vartkes and, afterwards, to execute their murderers. For details, see Kaiser, Extermination, pp. 203–10.   65 For details of these factions within the Turkist movement, see Yahya Kemal, Portreler, pp. 32–9; For Halide Edib’s conference on the Armenians and the factional struggles in the Ocak, see also Falih Rıfkı, Zeytindağı, p. 60; Yahya Kemal does not elaborate the ideas of Ziya Gökalp’s faction within the Ocak. However, it seems that they did not support the Armenians. Interestingly enough, in contrast to what Djemal did in Syria, Ziya Bey defended the autonomy of the Arabs of the Ottoman Empire shortly before the outbreak of World War I: see Heyd, The Foundations of Turkish Nationalism, p. 131.   66 Mahmut Shevket Pasha, “Not Defteri,” Hayat, 16 April 1965, entry for 3 May 1913.   67 Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 62. In a letter addressed to Djemal Bey, Fethi Bey regretted the appointment of Ahmet Izzet Pasha as Minister of War, as he believed that Djemal Bey was the best candidate for this post. In particular, he criticized the convergence with Germany and the arrival of the German Military Mission in Istanbul, and noted that Mustafa Kemal Bey was very upset about the arrival of the Germans. Fethi Bey maintained that the Ottoman Empire had to meet the budget deficit with its own resources rather than borrow money from Western countries. This could be achieved solely by dominating the army, and Djemal Bey was the only person who could lead this process; Fethi to Djemal, Sofia, 19 December 1913, in Bardakçı, İttihatçı’nın Sandığı, pp. 355–6; Djemal made an effort to include Fethi in the government to balance the other factions and proposed him as the Minister of Public Works in Said Halim’s cabinet: Mustafa Ragıp Esatlı, “Fethi Bey,” newspaper clipping, ISUL, Taha Toros Archives, Fethi Okyar File.   68 Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 62.   69 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” 11 December 1917, Tanin, 15 June 1945; 20 December 1917, Tanin, 17 June 1945.   70 Birgen, On Sene, pp. 243–4.   71 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” 5 September 1918, Tanin, 23 July 1945.   72 Uzer, Eşkıyalık Tarihi, p. 342.   73 Erden, Suriye Hatıraları, p. 285.   74 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” 12 February 1918, Tanin, 30 June 1945.   75 Djavid Bey’s diaries include valuable information regarding the self-appointed and inflexible attitude of Enver Pasha and his faction. On 16 May 1915, for example, he records the complaints of the Grand Vizier regarding the disobedience of the soldiers and states that he no longer had any influence in the government: “Girmesi”, Tanin, 3 January 1945, entry for 16 May 1915. On 19 February 1916 he writes that the government only did what the “stupid” [kafasız] officers of the Ministry of War demanded: “Girmesi,” entry for 19 February 1916. On 22 April 1916, Talat Bey confirmed his opinion regarding the negative impact of Enver Pasha’s broad authority over the government; Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 14 February 1945, entry for 22 April 1916;

32  M. Talha Çiçek Ismail Djanbolad, a prominent figure in the civil faction, would resign as mayor of Istanbul, complaining about the conflict of authority between the civil faction and the officers: Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 18 March 1945, entry for 9 September 1916.   76 Birgen, On Sene, pp. 117, 125, 131.   77 Sometimes, the Central Committee’s actions caused a crisis within the Ottoman cabinet. Following a meeting regarding the reforms planned in the Ottoman system of justice under the presidency of Halil Bey, a prominent figure in the civil faction and the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ibrahim Bey resigned as Minister of Justice because he had not been informed about the meeting. Following him, Sheikh al-Islam also resigned from his post, on the grounds that he was not informed about the cabinet revision; Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 15 February 1945, entry for 6 May 1916.   78 Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 47.   79 According to Talat Bey’s plan, each minister would be strictly limited to the responsibilities of his post. Djavid Bey explains that the intention here was Enver Pasha’s extraordinary authority: Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 3 April 1945, entry for 29 December 1916.   80 A document by Talat Bey lists the possible candidates for the cabinet, giving four or five options for each ministry. While Rauf Bey rather than Djemal was considered for the Ministry of Navy, Talat Bey, concerned about the reaction by the latter, decided to appoint Djemal Pasha to the post. Bardakçı, Evrak-ı Metrukesi, p. 171.   81 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 22 April 1945, entry for 28 January 1917; Talat’s prudent attitude was presumably because he was concerned about facing the opposition of all the military factions. It is obvious from the diaries that Talat Pasha was equally troubled by Djemal’s independence in Syria.   82 Djavid Bey proposed Djanbolad Bey’s appointment to the Ministry of the Interior to prevent military intervention in the civil bureaucracy: Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 3 April 1945, entry for 29 December 1916. Similarly, Hüseyin Cahid Bey’s proposals that Djanbolad and himself be appointed against Enver Pasha were refused for the same reason: Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 20 April 1945, entry for 6 February 1917.   83 Birgen, On Sene, p. 86. A telegram sent by Rahmi to Talat shows the extent of Rahmi’s authority. On 26 May 1918, Talat ordered Rahmi to relocate the Greeks settled near the railway between Alanya and Fethiye to an area three days’ distance away. Rahmi refused, claiming that such activities would reflect badly on the Ottoman government: Bardakçı, Evrak-ı Metrukesi, pp. 138–9.   84 Zürcher, “Yıkımın ve Yenilenmenin Mimarları,” p. 551. Ayhan Aktar and Abdulhamit Kırmızı show how Reshid Bey massacred the Armenians with local participation: Aktar and Kırmızı, “Diyarbekir 1915,” pp. 289–323.   85 Kaiser, Extermination, pp. 421–2.   86 Erden, Suriye Hatıraları, p. 107; Birgen referred to Djemal in Syria as “the regent of the Sultan” [Sultan Naibi]; Birgen, On Sene, p. 223.   87 Falih Rıfkı Bey reported that on one occasion the factions in Istanbul sent Ismail Djanbolat Bey to visit Djemal Pasha in Syria in order to investigate what was taking place. Frustrated by this, Djemal Pasha’s aide-de-camp made Djanbolat “welcome” to the Fourth Army frontier and brought him to the headquarters, preventing him from “inspecting” Syria: Falih Rıfkı, Zeytindağı, pp. 40–41.   88 For details, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 40–43. At approximately the same time Ziya Gökalp changed his ideas regarding the Ottoman state in line with Talat Bey: “Shortly before the outbreak of the First World War he suggested the establishment of a bi-national State (to be called the Turco-Arab State) under the Ottoman

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  33 Caliph.” Heyd, Foundations, p. 131. However, it is not clear whether Talat was influenced by Ziya to follow a reconciliation policy towards the Arabist opposition.   89 For an analysis, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria.   90 Talat Bey frequently asked for Hulusi Bey’s views on Djemal Pasha’s actions in Syria. For example, he requested a detailed report concerning Djemal Pasha’s associates Shakib Arslan Bey, Asad al-Shukairi Bey, and Abd al-Rahman al-Yusuf Bey. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 484/86, Hulusi to Talat, 6 August 1915. Similarly, when the Arab literati visited Istanbul and Gallipoli (analyzed in chapters 2 and 3 of this volume), Hulusi Bey was again Talat Bey’s informant: BOA, DH.ŞFR. 491/18, Hulusi to Talat, 27 September 1915.   91 For Hulusi Bey’s own statement that he resigned due to Djemal’s intervention in the bureaucracy, see BOA, DH.ŞFR. 484/86, Hulusi to Talat, 6 August 1915.   92 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 493/61, Djemal to Talat, 30 September 1915.   93 For Tawfiq Bey’s refusal, see BOA, DH.ŞFR. 525/63, Djemal to Talat, 16 July 1916. Unlike Tawfiq Bey, Azmi Bey (not to be confused with Djemal Azmi Bey of Beirut) went to Damascus as governor of Syria. Soon, however, Djemal Pasha was able to dismiss him. Shakib Arslan Bey notes that he was dismissed because the central government had appointed him without Djemal Pasha’s approval. Arslan, Siratu Dzatiyya, pp. 177–8. For Djemal Pasha’s criticism of Azmi Bey’s appointment and his request for the latter’s dismissal, see BOA, DH.ŞFR. 516/34, Djemal to Talat, 16 April 1916. Ahmet Faik Bey’s daughter Nermidil Erner Binark stated in her memoirs that her father had close relations with Talat Pasha, who sent Ahmet Faik to Damascus. However, his appointment was not accepted by Djemal, and he had to return to Istanbul as director general of the police. Binark, Şakir Paşa Köşkü, p. 47.   94 BOA, DH.ŞFR, 510/118, Djemal to Talat, 26 February 1915.   95 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 477/48, Djemal to Talat, 13 June 1915.   96 Ali Münif wrote that he and Talat Bey had been close friends since the early days of the revolution. Both men cooperated closely in the CUP’s Central Committee and in government. Thus, Talat appointed him to important positions, including governor of Aleppo and Beirut and, later, Minister of Public Works. He had not been Djemal Pasha’s first choice for the position in Mount Lebanon. The army commander preferred either Bedri Bey or Ismail Djanbolad Bey, both high-ranking officials in the security apparatus. Toros, Ali Münif Bey’in Hatıraları, p. 67; see also Taha Toros, “Eski Nafia Nazırı Ali Münif Yegena’nın Hatıraları,” Akşam, 25 November 1955. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 477/48, Djemal to Talat, 13 June 1915. For the document of Ali Münif’s appointment, see BOA, MV 241/67, 4 August 1915.   97 Toros, Ali Münif Bey, p. 71; see also Taha Toros, “Hatıraları,” Akşam, 27 November 1955. While he was governor of Lebanon, Ali Münif Bey was often in dispute with Djemal Pasha and his close friend Azmi Bey, governor of Beirut. He strongly opposed Djemal and Azmi’s mutual plan to divide Lebanon into three administrative parts, which would have limited his authority: Taha Toros, “Hatıraları,” Akşam, 29 November 1955. Ali Fuad Erden reports that Djemal Pasha had confronted Ali Münif Bey in a meeting when he did not applaud a speech praising Djemal Pasham, asking, “Do you not applaud him because he is praising me?”: Erden, Suriye Hatıraları, p. 207.   98 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 515/36, Djemal to Talat, 30 March 1916; BOA, DH.ŞFR. 477/48, Djemal to Talat, 13 June 1915.   99 For the text of the letter, see Ziya Şakir, Paşalar, p. 61. As explained in note 82, Hüseyin Cahid and Djavid Bey persuaded Talat Pasha to admit him to the cabinet to forestall Enver Pasha’s dominance.

34  M. Talha Çiçek 100 Although he did not oppose the dismissal of Djelal Bey, Djemal did not actually request it: BOA, DH.ŞFR. 477/48, Djemal to Talat, 26 June 1915. For an Austrian report on the dismissal of Djelal Bey, see HHStA, PA 38/366, Dandini to Burian, “Versetzung des Vali Djelal Bey,” Aleppo, 25 June 1915. 101 For an example, see BOA, DH.ŞFR. 468/54, Djelal to Talat, 21 April 1915. 102 For details, see chapter 8 in this volume. 103 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 477/48, Djemal to Talat, 26 June 1915. 104 Although Abdulhalik Bey was not Djemal Pasha’s first choice, he would later thank Talat Bey for the appointment. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 493/61, Djemal to Talat, 13 October 1915. 105 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 484/86, Hulusi to Talat, 18 August 1915; Djemal Pasha’s statements about Hulusi Bey were as critical of the governor as the latter’s own reporting about the commander. In one telegram, Djemal Pasha characterized Hulusi Bey as being “impertinent” [münasebetsiz]. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 506/108, Djemal to Talat, 25 January 1916. It is evident from Salim Tamari’s chapter in this volume that Hulusi had good relations with Kurd Ali before Djemal Pasha’s arrival in Syria. It seems that Kurd Ali’s approach to Djemal frustrated Hulusi Bey. See p. 44. 106 BOA, DH.ŞFR, 484/29, Hulusi to Talat, 21 August 1915; BOA, DH.ŞFR. 484/86, Hulusi to Talat, 18 August 1915. 107 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 489/27, Hulusi to Talat, 15 September 1915. Quite the reverse of what Hulusi Bey claimed, Djemal took the necessary measures to prevent the Germans. He did not allow Oppenheim to establish a newspaper on behalf of the Germans. His offer to provide paper for the newspaper from Germany was also refused by Djemal. The newspaper would be established as totally an Ottoman undertaking. Hulusi’s remarks show the ill will that existed between the command of the Fourth Army and the governorate of Syria. For a study of the Ottoman propaganda newspaper al-Sharq, see Çiçek, “Visions of Islamic Unity.” 108 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 490/84, Djemal to Talat, 24 September 1915. 109 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 491/18, Hulusi to Talat, 27 September 1915. 110 Djemal Pasha implied that he had learned of Hulusi’s resignation from a third person rather than from the governor himself. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 493/61, Djemal to Talat, 13 October 1915. 111 HHStA, PA 38/366, Ranzi to Burian, Damascus, 21 October 1915. 112 Ahmed Rasim, Muharrir Bu Ya, pp. 116–21. 113 Salaam, Mudhakkiratu Salim Ali Salaam (1868–1938), pp. 188–9. 114 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 483/63, Bekir Sami to Talat, 20 January 1915. 115 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 483/63, Djemal to Talat, 10 August 1915. 116 During his tenure at Aleppo, Bekir Sami Bey detailed the extreme misery of Armenian deportees in the province. For an example, see BOA, DH.ŞFR. 488/75, 22 September 1915. 117 TNA, FO 371/2770, Smith to Elliot, “State of Affairs in Turkey,” 23 April 1916. 118 For information regarding the relations between Djelal Bey and the local notables, see HHStA, PA 38/366, Ranzi to Burian, Damascus, 21 October 1915. For Madjid Bey, see Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 36. 119 For details and a discussion of Djemal Pasha’s criteria for the appointment of lowranking bureaucrats in Syria, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 20. 120 For details, see ibid., p. 159. 121 Djavid Bey referred to this group as “Djemal Pasha’s men”: “Girmesi,” Tanin, 20 June 1945, entry for 4 January 1918.

Myth of the Unionist triumvirate  35 122 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 2 July 1945, entry for 28 March 1918. 123 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 10 July 1945, entry for 20 July 1918. 124 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 23 July 1945, entry for 5 September 1918. Talat’s failure to “discipline” the soldiers caused Ismail Djanbolat Bey to resign from the Ministry of the Interior. Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 2 August 1945, entry for 30 September 1918. 125 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 5 July 1945, entries for 1 June–22 June 1918. 126 Djavid Bey, “Girmesi,” Tanin, 6 July 1945, entries for 1 June–22 June 1918. 127 For an example, see BOA, DH.ŞFR. 482/127, Djemal to Talat, 25 Temmuz 1331 [7 August 1915]. 128 For more details, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 77–89. 129 For details, see ibid., pp. 106–41.

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36  M. Talha Çiçek —— Preparation for a Revolution. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. —— Young Turks in Opposition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. Heyd, U., The Foundations of Turkish Nationalism: Life and Thought of Ziya Gökalp. London: Luzac Press, 1950. Kadri, H. K., Meşrutiyetten Cumhuriyet’e Hatıralarım. Istanbul: Dergah Yayınları, 2000. Kaiser, H., The Extermination of Armenians in Diarbekir Region. Istanbul: Bilgi University Press, 2014. Karabekir, K., İttihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti. Istanbul: Yapı Kredi Yayınları, 2009. Köroğlu, E., Ottoman Propaganda and Turkish Identity: Literature in Turkey during World War I. London: I. B. Tauris, 2007. Mardin, Ş., Jön Türklerin Siyasi Fikirleri. Istanbul: İletişim Yayınları, 2004. Mehmetefendioğlu, A., “İttihat ve Terakki ve Siyasi Müsteşarlıklar,” Toplumsal Tarih 8/43 (1997). Okyar, O., and Seyitdanlıoğlu, M., Atatürk, Okyar ve Çok Partili Türkiye: Fethi Okyar’ın Anıları. Istanbul: İş Bankası Yayınları, 2010. Salaam, S. A., Mudhakkiratu Salim Ali Salaam (1868–1938), ed. Hassan Ali Hallak. Beirut: Dar al-Jami’iyya, 1982. Tekeli, İ, and İlkin, S., “Bir Başkaldırı Odağı ve Ortamı Olarak Selanik ve Makedonya,” in Mehmet Ö. Alkan (ed.), Yadigar-ı Meşrutiyet. Istanbul: Bilgi Üniversitesi Yayınları, 2010. Tepe, C., “Azmi Bey: İttihatçıların Meşhur Polis Müdürü ve Beyrut Valisi,” unpublished MA thesis, Erzincan University, 2013. Toros, T., Ali Münif Bey’in Hatıraları. Istanbul: ISIS Yayıncılık, 1996. Tunaya, T. Z., Türkiye’de Siyasi Partiler: İttihat ve Terakki. Istanbul: Hürriyet Vakfı Yayınları, 1989. —— Türkiye’de Siyasi Partiler III: Bir Çağın, Bir Kuşağın, Bir Partinin Tarihi. Istanbul: İletişim Yayınları, 2000. Turfan, M. N., Rise of the Young Turks: Politics, the Military and Ottoman Collapse. London: I. B. Tauris, 2000. Uzer, T., Makedonya Eşkıyalık Tarihi ve Son Osmanlı Yönetimi. Ankara: TTK Yayınları, 1999. Yahya Kemal, Siyasi ve Edebi Portreler. Istanbul: Yapı Kredi, 2006. Ziya Şakir, Paşalar: Talat, Enver, Cemal. Istanbul: Kaknüs Yayınları, 2010. Zürcher, E. J., The Unionist Factor: The Role of the Committee of Union and Progress in the Turkish National Movement. Leiden: Brill, 1984. —— “Yıkımın ve Yenilenmenin Mimarları: Kemalist Jenerasyona ve Jön Türklere Dair Bir Grup Biyografı’si Denemesi,” in Mehmet Ö. Alkan, Tanıl Bora, and Murat Koraltürk (eds), Mete Tunçay’a Armağan. Istanbul: İletişim Yayınları, 2007.

2 Muhammad Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia in the Ottoman campaign against Arab separatism Salim Tamari Muhammad Kurd Ali is one of those rare modern thinkers who can be referred to as a propagator of a synthetic Islamic-secular modernism (another is Muhammad Izzat Darwarzeh, from al-Istiqlal party).1 Yet Kurd Ali is one of the least acknowledged pioneers of Arab modernist thought among late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century thinkers, partly because he is seen, I believe falsely, as a compiler and encyclopedist rather than as an original writer. A quick glance at his towering achievements would challenge this assumption. Among these are his editorship in Damascus of al-Muqtabas (1908–14), which set the standard for all modern journalism in the Arab East for that period in terms of independent, critical, and informed reporting; his authorship of Khitat al-Sham (6 vols, 1925–8), an unparalleled work of historical geography of Greater Syria, and Islam and Arab Civilization (1934), containing possibly the earliest critique of orientalist thought on the subject; and his pioneering work in 1919 in founding the Academy of the Arabic Language in Damascus, which became a crucial instrument for the revival, modernization, and standardization of the Arabic language (he also served as its first president). This essay discusses Kurd Ali’s role as an exponent of Ottomanist ideology in the Arab press during the Great War and a propagator of bilingualism as a cultural solution to the regional and ethnic tensions in the sultanate. In the autumn of 1915, a year after the commencement of the Great War, the Ottoman leadership arranged to send an expedition of writers, journalists, and religious scholars from the Syrian provinces to visit the Dardanelles front. The purpose of the expedition, according to the authors of the mission’s report, was to examine at first hand the course of the military operations in Çanakkale [Gallipoli], mobilize support for the Ottoman war effort in the Arab provinces of the sultanate, and strengthen Arab–Turkish solidarity. The last objective was an obvious reference to the rising tide of Arab separatist movements.2 The main instigator of this expedition was Ahmad Djemal (Djemal Pasha, governor of Syria and commander of the Fourth Army on the Palestine–Suez front, who carefully organized the group to include “opinion makers” from the region. The timing of the mission was chosen to coincide with the recent military triumphs of the Ottoman forces in Gallipoli and its composition to serve Djemal’s relentless campaign against Hijazi and Syrian dissidents. In this chapter we will examine how

38  Salim Tamari the Great War redefined the relationship between Istanbul and the Arab provinces, and how Arab intellectuals, adopting a wide spectrum of political and religious beliefs, expressed their problematic relationship with the idea of a pan-Ottomanist identity, Osmanlılık, in which Arabism was a crucial component. It will focus on the work of Muhammad Kurd Ali and his advocacy of a modernist Syrian culture within the Ottoman union. The expedition was headed by Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi from Akka, mufti of the Fourth Army, a major activist in the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP) and a supporter of Djemal’s campaign against Arab nationalists. A few months earlier, on 6 May 1915, he had achieved notoriety by issuing a number of fatwas (edicts) in support of the execution of scores of Arab nationalists in Beirut, Damascus, and Jerusalem who had been charged with sedition and treason.3 The expedition produced a 300-page report entitled “The Scientific Expedition to the Seat of the Caliphate,” published in Beirut in 1916 and authored by Muhammad Kurd Ali, editor of the Damascene al-Muqtabas and one of the most prominent rationalist scholars in the Arab East, together with Muhammad al-Baqir, editor of al-Balagh in Beirut. A second report, Al-Rihla al-Anwariyya, published several months later and dedicated to Enver Pasha, addressed a subsequent mission to Hijaz and Syria to examine conditions on the southern front and Syrian preparedness for the Suez campaign. The “Scientific Expedition” highlighted the role of a new class of intellectuals in the struggles over the national identity of the Arab provinces in the waning days of the Ottoman Empire. Although “intelligentsia” is an amorphous term here, it does provide a useful reference to the emergence of a post-Tanzimat era category of urban professionals who were embroiled in creating a cultural base for the contested identity of Bilad al-Sham. Those included graduates of military academies and Christian mission schools, public officials in the regional civil service apparatus, and religious functionaries appointed by the state. They represented substantial currents animating the urban literati of the nineteenth-century Arab nahda involved in private and public schooling, theatre, and journalism––as discussed by Ilham Khuri-Makdisi.4 They also included a sizable number of religious scholars in search of a modernist Islamic resurgence, taking their cue from the likes of Rashid Rida, Muhammad Abdo, and Djemal ad-Din al-Afghani. Many of them, but certainly not all, were actively involved in the political struggles over the destiny and direction of the Ottoman state after the constitutional revolutions of 1876 and 1908. During World War I they were considerably involved with the issues of European cultural hegemony, modernizing religious thought, and the use of Arabic (and bilingualism) in state administration and in public schools, as well as with land issues and the fate of the peasantry in an increasingly acute process of land alienation, foreign settlement, and peasant indebtedness which began to shape the contours of the “national question” in Greater Syria. Munir Fakher Eldin refers to a segment of this nahdawi group as a self-serving arriviste class––speaking for the national spirit of the peasantry and adopting a patronizing attitude towards the masses.5 Members of this intelligentsia fell on divergent sides in the debates on the issue of Osmanlılık (Ottomanist identity) and the question of

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  39 decentralization and autonomy of the Arab provinces. A small but vocal minority began to advocate secession from the sultanate. These debates constitute the background to the formation of the Scientific Expedition. The use of the term “scientific” here is intentionally ambiguous. It has a dual meaning, referring to the scholarly character of the religious leadership of the group––Sheikh al-Shukairi and his ‘ulama colleagues (sing. ‘alem, hence men of religious sciences); but it also refers to the new modernist notion of positivist science, in deference to the investigative character of the mission. Most likely the use of “scientific” in the title was also an intentional device to deflect a propagandist reading of its goals. Although the delegation’s mission was meant to result in political mobilization and propaganda for the CUP leadership and its war campaign, the report reveals much more than that. Read retrospectively almost a century after its publication, the collection of essays by leading members of the provincial intelligentsia sheds significant light on the state of Arab–Turkish relations during the war, as well as on the manner in which an Ottoman identity was internalized in Syria. It also contains significant observations on Anatolian cities and villages during the war; on industries and crafts; on the conditions of Anatolian peasants compared to Syrian farmers; on military preparedness on the northern front; on Turkish attitudes towards Arabs; and on transport and communication routes. One of the most striking features of this report is the use of language as an instrument of forging national identity––and the concomitant and expressed need to teach bilingualism (Arabic and Turkish) simultaneously in Anatolian, Rumi, and Syrian schools as a means of enhancing Ottoman citizenship in the empire. The report clearly suggests that Arabs and Turks are the essential core and last remaining bulwark of Ottomanism. Other ethnic groups appear only as incidental folkloric ingredients in the Ottoman soup.

A Syrian-Palestinian expedition The designation of the expedition as Syrian-Palestinian [al-wafd al-Suri alFilastini] is curious, since the group was composed of significant Turkish (from Aintab/Antep), Iraqi, Lebanese, Aleppine, Transjordanian, and other personalities. Furthermore, the Eastern Arab provinces, which included Palestine and Transjordan, were known in Ottoman discourse inclusively as Şam-ı Şerif (the sacred region of Bilad al-Sham). Filistin was a non-administrative designation for the mutasarriflik of Jerusalem and its northern expanses. Why, therefore, the highlighting of the Palestinian component of this group? Filistin had continuously been seen, at least since the campaign of Ibrahim Pasha in 1831, as a country within Bilad al-Sham, and often existing as a separate entity: “Palestine is the sister of Syria,” proclaimed an Ottoman war report in 1915.6 But it was both a sacred and strategic component of the sultanate: sacred because of Jerusalem and Hebron’s holiness, and strategic because it was the war’s southern front. In the case of the Syrian expedition, it seems that Djemal Pasha, the initiator of the project, was intent on promoting a sacred legitimacy, associated with Filistin

40  Salim Tamari as the Holy Land, and on buttressing Arab support for the Ottoman war effort and for the Ottoman principle as an alliance of Arabs and Turks. To this end he chose Sheikh Asad Shukairi, the powerful imam from Akka, to lead the expedition. The group also included a large number of hard-core CUP loyalists, several of whom championed Djemal’s campaign against the Syrian-Arab nationalists. Among them were Muhammad Rif‘at Effendi Tuffaha and Abdal-Rahman alHaj from Nablus; Sheikh Ibrahim al-Akki and Abdal-Rahman Aziz from Akka; Muhammad Effendi Murad from Haifa; Taher Effendi Abul Suad and Sheikh Ali Rimawi from Jerusalem; and the poet Salim al-Ya’qubi from Jaffa (originally from Lydda).7 The group was a mixture of educators, imams, and journalists, along with two leading poets. Reviewing the membership of the expedition, one gets the impression that the Palestinians constituted the religious component of the group (led by alShukairi), while the Syrians formed the secular core (led by Kurd Ali). It should be remembered that the southern command of the Ottoman forces was in Palestine (Gaza and Beershiba) and the Sinai campaign against Suez was known as the Sina ve Filistin Cephesi (the Sinai and Palestine front). The Palestinian dimension of the group was highlighted through the speeches delivered by members of the expedition and in responses made by Enver Pasha, Djemal Pasha, the Prime Minister, the Crown Prince, and Sultan Mehmed Reshad himself. The region evoked strong associations with both al-Haram al-Sharif and the southern front, where the conquest of Egypt was being planned.8 During the inspection of military workshops in Istanbul, the report makes reference to the involvement of Palestinian and Syrian women in voluntary work for the war effort.9 However, once the expedition arrived at the Çanakkale front the group became known as the Syrian delegation. Two figures from the Palestinian delegation, Sheikh Ali Rimawi and Salim Abu al-Iqbal al-Ya’qubi, are worth examining here because they represent an Arab intellectual trajectory which adopted strong Ottomanist identities after the Young Turks came to power. Significantly, both of these figures had substantive Islamic religious training and had acquired considerable reputations in the Arab literary renaissance at the beginning of the century. Both Rimawi and Ya’qubi demonstrated a dualist identity that may seem contradictory in retrospect––namely a strong belief in Arabism, centered around the revival of the Arabic language as medium of the Arab renaissance, while maintaining an equally strong belief in Ottomanism as a political ideology. Sheikh Ali Rimawi (1860–1919) came from the throne village of Beit Rima, in the Jerusalem mutasariffiyah, well known for producing a series of Islamic scholars and Ottoman loyalists––and subsequently of Arab nationalists, Nasserites, Ba‘thists, and communists. After spending several years in religious training at Al-Azhar (1899–1907) he started his career as a writer in the first journalistic enterprises in Palestine. The Ottoman authorities chose him to produce al-Quds al-Sharif, the official gazette of the government in Palestine (1908–13). He also became the partner of Jurji Hanania, the Christian orthodox intellectual who had

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  41 his own press and published al-Quds––the first successful private newspaper in Palestine (1908–14). Al-Quds (not to be confused with the similarly named al-Quds al-Sharif ) was an Ottoman Orthodox paper. While Hanania defended the interests of the Greek Orthodox patriarchate against the rising tide of Arabization, Rimawi addressed issues emanating from the Ottoman reform and educational policies.10 Earlier, in 1907, Rimawi had launched his own paper, Beit al-Maqdis, which had been closed down by the Hamidian censor. After the lifting of censorship he started another Arab-Turkish paper, al-Najah, inspired by the principles of the Young Turk revolution of 1908, which was billed as a “political, scientific, literary, and agricultural” weekly newspaper. According to Y. Yehôšuaʻ, the real aim of the newspaper was to improve relations between the CUP government and Palestinian Arabs, who became discontented with the “empty and unfulfilled slogans of Ottoman freedoms.”11 He was particularly devoted to propagating the use of the Turkish language in Arab schools. One editorial which appeared in 1910 under his name was entitled “Arabic and Turkish are Sisters: Why are they Quarrelling?”12 The next issue of al-Najah will appear in both Arabic and Turkish together, as per the license of this paper. It will aim at serving the joint interests of the Arab and Turkish elements. For these two languages are sisters in the service of the umma and the nation, and we are today in the utmost need of solidarity and union for our common objectives. But Rimawi was not uncritical of the government. During his tenure of al-Najah, and of al-Quds, he published several essays attacking what he considered inadequate government spending on education, corruption in municipal administration, police procedures and the lack of amenities for journalists covering criminal cases, and the lack of accountability in the public budget.13 Aprt from his journalistic career, Rimawi was known primarily as a poet and teacher of Arabic literature. He taught Arabic language and literature in a number of schools, including the German-supported Laeml School for Sephardic girls. According to Yehôšuaʻ, he praised Jewish education in an article published in haHerut, the organ of the Sephardic community in Palestine.14 The reports of both the “Scientific Expedition” and its companion venture, “al-Rihla al-Anwariyyah,” are replete with Rimawi’s panegyric poetry on the Ottoman armed forces and his encomiums on Djemal Pasha and Enver Pasha, unsurpassed in their hagiography except perhaps by Salim al-Ya’qubi.15 Much of this poetry belongs to what is known in Arabic as adab al-mada’ih––eulogistic poetry that is highly stylized, effusive, with feigned sentiments, and extemporized on political occasions in praise of political leaders or patrons. In the case of Rimawi it was also ephemeral. With the defeat of the Ottoman forces in southern Palestine and the entry of the British forces into Jerusalem, his loyalties underwent a quick turnaround. The official Palestine Gazette, issued by the British

42  Salim Tamari forces in the occupied territories, published a poem by Rimawi celebrating the “emancipation” ushered in by the new British regime: This is the day when our shackles have been broken, And our feet and thoughts are set free. Oppression has been replaced with sweet justice; And after the prolonged darkness our dawn has appeared.16 It seems that his journalistic prose and his poetry belong to two different ideological domains. Unlike the rest of his comrades, however, Rimawi did not live to see the post- Ottoman era in Palestine. A few months after the end of the war he died from a bout of pneumonia in his village of Beit Rima. In contrast to Rimawi, Salim al-Ya’qubi maintained his Ottomanist sympathies after the fall of Syria and the entry of the allied forces––a factor attributed by his biographer Sami Shehadeh to his Salafism.17 Al-Ya’qubi (1881–1946) was born in Lydda and, like Rimawi, was sent to study in Al-Azhar for twelve years. During his Cairo years he emerged as a leading poet in Greater Syria, for which he was nicknamed Hassan Filastin, after Hassan ibn Thabit, the Prophet’s poet.18 On his return from Cairo he was appointed mufti of Jaffa, where he had moved his residence and established a study circle in the Manshiyyeh mosque.19 Ya’qubi joined the Scientific Expedition as an advocate of the Islamic Commonwealth [alJami‘a al-Islamiyyah]. In his earlier years he had dedicated a volume of poetry to Sultan Abdulhamid, which he titled Hasanat al-Yara’ (1907), but after the 1908 Revolution he became a strong advocate of the Young Turks.20 Together with the mufti of Akka, Sheikh al-Shukairi, Ya’qubi supported Djemal Pasha’s campaign against the Arab nationalists during the war. In 1916 he issued a fatwa against Sherif Hussein for his insurrection against the Ottoman state.21 During the Scientific Expedition he distanced himself from the rhetorical propaganda of other participants and appears to have confined himself to reciting a two-line stanza in praise of Enver Pasha.22 In the second trip to Medina he composed another ode in support of the Ottoman campaign in Egypt.23 Among his many comrades in the Scientific Expedition, Ya’qubi was exceptional in maintaining vocal support for the Ottomans after the end of the war––for which he was severely punished by the British. One of his closest companions was Abdal-Qadir al-Mudhaffar, an associate of Mersinli Djemal Pasha. For their “stubbornness” they were both exiled to the British prisoner-of-war camp in Sidi Bishir in Alexandria.24 After the war Ya‘qubi became close to the house of Ibn Saud and seems to have been influenced by Saudi Wahhabism. As imam of Manshiyyeh mosque in Jaffa, he continually agitated against Zionism and for the ideas of the Islamic Commonwealth.25 He remained a staunch Ottomanist, even when there were no Ottomans left.

The new Salah al-Din The visit of the expedition to the Ministry of the Navy in the capital was an occasion to sing the praises of Djemal Pasha. The two main interventions on the

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  43 “great reformer” were made by the president of the expedition, Sheikh al-Shukairi (speaking in Turkish), and by the publisher of al-Balagh (Beirut), the Iraqi writer and publicist Muhammad al-Baqir (in Arabic). Djemal is compared here to Sultan Salah al-Din, who delivered Jerusalem from the Crusaders, in the same manner that Djemal would liberate Egypt from the imperialist yoke. Djemal’s achievements are implicitly and favorably compared with those of Talat and Enver, the leaders of the CUP, and even with the Sultan himself. The report reads like a hagiographic account of the future leader of the Ottoman state. Djemal’s historical achievements are discussed in terms of his political acumen, his military skills as a commander-strategist, his public works, and especially his educational reforms. In Syria, his administration was able to reform the divisive work of his predecessors. He created a new patriotism, bringing together Turks and Arabs.26 His weekly councils in Damascus and Jerusalem ensured an open forum for the grievances of the public, without any mediation.27 The CUP administration modernized and transformed the face of Syria through Djemal’s public works. It established a modern system of railroads, which extended the Istanbul–Damascus network to Haifa, Jerusalem, Jaffa, Beershiba and Medina.28 It paved thousands of roads, linking the rural areas to provincial centers and Syrian districts to Anatolia. Djemal’s administration established public security in the major cities by introducing electricity and police patrols and by ending brigandage in the countryside.29

Muhammad Kurd Ali and the Ottoman Commonwealth Kurd Ali was one of the two principal authors of the “Scientific Report.” A Damascene scholar of Kurdish-Circassian descent originating from Sulaymaniyyeh in northern Iraq, Muhammad Kurd Ali (1876–1953) was the publisher of alMuqtabas, one of the most influential (and most censored) dailies in the Hamidian period. His partner was Shukri al-Asali, who was hanged by Ahmad Djemal’s military tribunals in Aley in 1916. Kurd Ali was also the founder of the Academy of the Arabic Language in Damascus and the author of the encyclopedic Khitat al-Sham (Syrian Mapping)––a magisterial work of the social geography of Syria. The book was modeled after Ali Mubarak’s Al-Khitat al-Tawfiqiyya. Kurd Ali described his paper al-Muqtabas as “politically moderate, strictly patriotic, and critical of the Ottoman administration’s conduct in governing, but we never aimed at separation from the Turks.”30 In an autobiography written when he was in his eighties, Kurd Ali refers to his early Islamic training in Damascus (under Sheikh Taher al-Jaza’iri) and in Cairo (under Muhammad Abdo) as crucial to the formation of his ideological mindset towards Ottomanism, Islamic reform, and Arab nationalism.31 In terms of factional affiliation, Kurd Ali was a solid Ottoman loyalist. For twelve years (1896–1908) he belonged to İttihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti (the CUP). After the constitutional revolution he grew dissatisfied with the repressive character of the CUP––“their deviation from their original aims compelled a movement of Turks and Arabs from Istanbul and Damascus to form a new liberal party, known as

44  Salim Tamari Freedom and Entente [hizb al-hurriyah wal i’itilaf ]”32 The authorities continually hounded him and his paper. In 1909 he was accused by the local governor of supporting the restoration of the Hamidian regime, which compelled him to flee to France; and he was in trouble again in 1912 for publishing material that was insulting to the sultanic majesty [tamissu bil al al-Sultani], which drove him to seek refuge in Egypt.33 The war itself brought him relief and reconciliation with the regime. The new Ottoman governor in Damascus, Hulusi Bey, was a personal friend, and he encouraged him to relaunch al-Muqtabas on a new basis. Kurd Ali was also unexpectedly helped by a police raid on the French Consulate in Beirut, as documents there exposed the collaboration of leading Arab intellectuals with French authorities at the beginning of the war. Djemal Pasha used these to pursue his campaign against the Arab nationalists. In the case of Kurd Ali, a French diplomat had reported a visit he made to his house in Damascus to gauge the potential of his supporting the French position. Kurd Ali, the Frenchman reported, lectured the diplomat on the need for France to change its policies in Algeria and Tunis.34 Another memorandum surfaced which was sent by the French ambassador in Istanbul to local French consular offices, listing Muhammad Kurd Ali as an “untrusted government loyalist.” According to Kurd Ali, these reports saved him from the gallows. Djemal Pasha himself summoned him and urged him to publish al-Muqtabas “when he realized the impact of the paper on the Syrian and Arab public.”35 Kurd Ali’s authorship of the Scientific Expedition report may well have been an attempt to establish his credentials as an Ottoman loyalist, given his reputation as an oppositional figure and the continued closure of his paper by the authorities for its criticism of government policies. Years later he claimed that his work on behalf of Djemal Pasha and the expedition was imposed on him by al-Shukairi and the Ottoman administration.36 Nevertheless, the chapters signed by Kurd Ali in the compendium do provide us with significant insights into Arab intellectuals’ attitudes towards the “Ottoman Commonwealth” and the relationship between Arabs and Turks during the early war years. In a biographical essay on Kurd Ali, Samir Seikaly traced his intellectual evolution through his journalistic career during the crucial years separating the rise of the Young Turks and the war years.37 In 1906 he moved to Cairo, where he published al-Muqtabas as an organ of Islamic reform and regeneration [al islah wal tajdid], then in 1909 he returned to Damascus, where he relaunched the paper as an instrument for the propagation of an Arabist cultural modernism in the context of Ottoman integration.38 For Kurd Ali, this revivalism involved a struggle for a synthesizing culture that borrowed selectively from elements of European civilization without losing its Islamic core, calling for what he termed a new Arab– Western civilization [hadara ‘arabiyya gharbiyya].39 The relationship of this Arab revivalism to the Ottoman idea was much more problematic in the work of Kurd Ali. In the pre-Tanzimat period he considered the Ottomans to be a barbaric nation (tatars) consolidating their power with military organizational skills legitimized by the Islamic caliphate. Ottoman decline was rooted in the inability of Eastern societies to face the challenges of Western

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  45 economic and technological superiority and in the feudal appropriation of peasant land following the Ottoman land reform of 1858.40 Another important root cause of Ottoman backwardness was what Kurd Ali considered to be the failure of the Turkish language to adapt to modern civilization. In contrast to Arabic, “Turkish was not a language particular to a universal religion or to general scientific knowledge.”41 In the struggle for a synthesized Western–Arab–Ottoman civilization, Kurd Ali was keen to distance himself from imperialist schemes to control the Ottoman Empire, and especially its Arab provinces, while at the same time seeking the benefits of European educational and technological advances.42 He saw the necessity of defending the Ottoman realm, and the caliphate, as a means of preserving the unity of the empire and Syrian lands. He looked favorably at European and Western educational institutions for the benefits they brought by disseminating a modernist pedagogy but felt that only by strengthening native Turkish and Arab education could Ottomans survive. For this reason, in the 1880s he was against changing the language of instruction at the St Joseph Jesuit College and the Syrian Protestant College from Arabic to French and English, respectively.43 During the war years, Kurd Ali’s views on language and cultural revivalism seem to have taken a turn in favor of a new synthesized Ottomanism. His trip to Anatolia and Gallipoli compelled him to rethink his cultural attitudes towards Turkish abilities to modernize Ottoman culture and society under conditions of siege. His description of the industrial resourcefulness of Anatolian workers and the military preparedness of the leadership, often smacking of outright propaganda, was meant to dispel prevalent rumors of organizational disarray in the armed forces, as well as the Arab view of “Turkish laziness.” While stridently opposed to Turkification as a state policy on the part of the CUP, he now began to favor bilingualism as an instrument of Ottoman unity.

A new Ottoman nation, both oriental and occidental Two major objectives of the expedition report were to introduce the Arab reader to conditions in the Anatolian provinces and to assess military preparedness at the front. The richest ethnographic material in the report was written by Muhammad Kurd Ali.44 Although the principle of common citizenship and Ottoman brotherhood permeates the compendium, all writers are aware of the Arab–Turkish divide, as well as of the ethnic diversity that began to acquire seditious aspects during the war. There is an absence here of reference to the racial tension and antagonism that began to surface after the Hamidian restoration of 1909 against Arabs in Istanbul and other Anatolian centers––associating Arabs with the ancien régime and the reactionary advisors of the Sultan:45 Our Syrian-Palestinian delegation was treated [in Anatolia] to an Ottoman generosity, an Eastern hospitality, and Islamic brotherhood, which attest to the mutual love and loyalty between Turks and Arabs––the two greatest components and intellectually advanced segments of the state.46

46  Salim Tamari In contrast to the Arab, the Turk is more disciplined and law-abiding.47 At the military front and in urban employment, he defers to the judgment of his commander and manager. In war he is willing to die for the cause––a hint, perhaps, to the high degree of desertion reported among Arab soldiers.48 In matters of religion the Turk is mesmerized by the Arabs, who are seen as the source of blessedness and holiness: “Educated Turks are curious about the current conditions of Arab lands, while traditional people ask about the past.”49 Once in Istanbul, the expedition members were impressed by the degree of Europeanness of the capital, manifested in its magisterial buildings, wide and clean boulevards, and extensive transport system. While a few years earlier, Kurd Ali noted, the visitor was struck by the amount of filth and poverty in the capital, “today” (1916) the lower classes were elevated and enjoying a degree of prosperity trickling down to other provinces.50 In the central square one might think oneself in Budapest, Rome, or Marseilles. The population is highly diversified in appearance and dress. The transport system links Istanbul by sea and land to various parts of the empire and the world. In matters of commerce, Greeks and Armenians had controlled the city in the immediate past, but this dominance is disappearing as Turkish merchants and businessmen edge their way upwards. Those who follow financial affairs now acknowledge that the Turkish family is superior to the Rumi (Greek), Armenian, Arab, and Kurdish families. In general the status of the Turkish man is superior to his compatriots and he invests heavily in the education of his children. The proximity to Europe (or to European minorities in Ottoman cities) is a major factor in this judgment––thus Smyrna is more advanced than Eskishehir, and Bursa is superior to Konya.51 The expedition to Çanakkale is frequently described as a form of investigative religious and secular tourism [siyaha], by which the authors meant pilgrimage: Our tour from the lands of Bilad al-Sham to the center of the caliphate, and from there to the war front in Çanakkale, combines the religious and civil features of tourism, for it strengthens the bonds of religious and patriotic associations and helps us to gain two forms of happiness: the worldly and the otherworldly.52 It helped, in Kurd Ali’s view, to bring together the two central components of the empire: the Arabs and the Turks. It allowed each group to become acquainted with the life of the other. The war conditions also brought the Ottomans to seek the friendship of the Germanic people––“whose leadership, unlike the government of the imperialist allies, has no ulterior motives over the Ottoman domains.”53 The war accelerated the process of integration of the Ottoman peoples and their search for modernity in the new world. It helped the Arabs and the Turks to create a new synthesis––“a nation of East and West that combines the old and the new, which defends its domain by force to preserve its special character.”54 Muhammad Kurd Ali devoted several pages to describing in detail the war industries, which were hastening, in his view, the liberation of Anatolia from

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  47 dependence on Western products. Within one or two decades, he anticipated, “we will have caught up with Europe and will become an industrial and agricultural modern nation.”55

“Turkification of Arabs, Arabization of Turks” The question of linguistic autonomy was a major bone of contention in the Arab provinces after the constitutional revolution. A recurrent charge made by Arab nationalists against the new regime was the imposition by the leaders of the CUP and the Young Turks of a policy of Turkification––in administrative, legal, and educational institutions.56 This charge was challenged by several members of the expedition. Few of them saw Turkification to the extent that signified increased use of Turkish in the administrative and educational domains as a mark of progress and a move towards integration of the various ethnic groups within the context of Ottomanism. Muhammad al-Baqir, Abdal-Basit al-Unsi, and Hussein al-Habbal observed the increasing tendency among Turks to learn Arabic and the ease with which Syrians were communicating in Turkish. Kurd Ali was fascinated by the bilingualism in the border regions. “In Tarsus and Adana I was pleased to note that the majority of inhabitants speak Turkish and Arabic as a matter of daily use,” he noted. The best solution for the social-linguistic problem [mas’alat al-lisan alijtima‘iyya] is for the Arabs to become Turkified and for the Turks to become Arabized [an yatt’atarak al-‘arab wa yata‘rrab al-atraak] . . . this is inevitable, for Arabic is the tongue of Islam and is immersed in the history of Muslims, while Turkish is the language of politics and administration.57 Despite the use of the idioms of Turkfication and Arabization, it is unlikely that the author meant an ethnic integration of the two communities. Instead he seems to be advocating a policy of bilingualism. This becomes clear from the next paragraph, where he makes policy recommendations. The ruling party (the CUP) should implement a new educational policy in all Ottoman provinces––teaching Arabs Turkish, “after they gain mastery of their own language,” while Turks would similarly learn Arabic as a second language.58 This measure would be a positive contribution to solving the issue of Ottoman ethnicities [siyasat al-‘anasir al-uthmaniyyah]. The expedition members noted that in Anatolia there was no Arab problem and that no distinction was made between Arabs and Turks.59 The assumption here is that this was a Syrian-Arab problem. For that reason, Kurd Ali believed that educational leaders in the sultanate should move rapidly in implanting a policy of bilingualism––“for the biggest problem we face is ignorance of the other––our brothers in faith and citizenship.”60

Syrian interest in defending Gallipoli It was left to Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi, the expedition leader, to articulate the Syrian-Palestinian interest in defending the sultanate from collapse in the Darda­ nelles. He made his plea in a long speech delivered in Turkish at the Damascene

48  Salim Tamari theatre named “Cinema Janaq Qal’a” [Çanakkale] before a large crowd which included Djemal Pasha, the governor of Mount Lebanon Ali Munif Bey, the governor of Syria Azmi Bey, the governor of Jerusalem Midhad Bey, and many other civilian and military leaders. Also among the audience was Prince Faisal Bey, the son of “our Lord Hussein bin Ali, the Amir of Mecca.” This was on the eve of the latter’s declaration of insurrection against the Ottoman leadership.61 Al-Shukairi began his speech by referring to rumors of the impending collapse of the northern front and the meaning of this collapse for the integrity and safety of the sultanate as a whole. He went on to demonstrate at length the massive diligence of men and women toiling in fields and factories to support the armed forces, which he and his companions observed throughout Anatolia, and the invincible army that was mobilized at the Dardanelles in defense of the realm.62 He mocked the rumors which prevailed in the capital that the “Syrian people were indulging in their mundane pleasures and pastimes, impervious to the dangers that threaten the [Allied] conquest of the seat of the sultanate”––an oblique reference to Arab secessionist movements.63 In organizing the expedition and bringing a selected segment of notable Syrians to Anatolia and the front, Djemal Pasha had succeeded in dispelling these rumors and bringing a message of “Unionist” solidarity and support to the mujahedeen in Janaq Qal’a [Çanakkale]. Al-Shukairi then attacked the opposition for suggesting that their expedition was meant as a slavish kowtowing before the Sultan and his government whereby the delegates sought to ingratiate themselves in front of the authorities. He reminded his enemies that their Ottoman loyalty resulted in the material progress of the Arab provinces––evidenced by the roads, railroads, schools, and hospitals the Ottomans had brought to Syria, as well as the protection of the Holy Land from foreign conquest. Al-Shukairi was referring to the expanding European presence in Palestine and the considerable increase in Jewish immigration from Eastern Europe. In Jerusalem, he warned, Muslims were in danger of becoming a minority––but with the efforts of the great helmsman this situation was being reversed. The establishment of the Salahiyyah College, with hundreds of Muslim scholars undertaking advanced studies, was a milestone in this struggle for the umma and for the consolidation of the Islamic Commonwealth [al-Jami‘a al-Islamiyyah].64 Al-Shukairi then engaged his audience in an attack on those Arab soldiers who flee conscription and those who had criticized the formation of the Tawabeer al‘Amaleh in Syria and Palestine––the “volunteer labor battalions,” comprised of older civilian conscripts, as well as Christians and Jews, made to dig trenches and perform menial labor at the front.65 He reminded the audience that the Prophet himself was engaged in digging trenches in the war against Qureish.66 Al-Shukairi ended his speech by saluting Prince Faisal, “son of our lord and master Sherif Hussein, Prince of Mecca,” who had mobilized his Hijazi forces in the ranks of (Djemal Pasha’s) Fourth Army in the Egyptian campaign against the English enemies of God. “Hail to the Emir and his son Prince Faisal, and Hail to the Hashemites and their allies.”67 While Turkish–Arab brotherhood was the theme stressed by most speakers during the Syrian part of the expedition, once the delegation crossed to Anatolia, the idea of Islamic association became dominant. This was particularly noticeable

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  49 in the several receptions held for the Syrians by local branches of the CUP. In Istanbul, Habib Effendi al-‘Ubaidi, speaking on behalf of the CUP Central Committee [al- Markaz al-Umumi], outlined the evolution of the Islamic policies of the party. In part he was responding to the charges of secularism and abandonment of the caliphate leveled against the party. These were the two main attacks used by the Hashemites in justifying their break with the Ottoman leadership in 1916. During the Hamidian sultanate, ‘Ubaidi announced, “partisans sought two major objectives: undermining the basis of despotism and the establishment of the Islamic Commonwealth.” The dissemination of these ideas was undertaken in secret, he said, since the enemy had eyes everywhere. With the constitutional revolution they began openly to attack the Hamidian dictatorship, but the period did not “allow for the assertion of our second objective, the enhancement of Islamic Union.”68 With the passage of years, it had become acceptable to raise the banner of Islamic Union, which had become the central feature of the party.69

The Islamic bond What ‘Ubaidi failed to mention was that the idea of Islamic Union preceded the CUP and was one of the major ideas propagated by Imam Djemal ad-Din alAfghani and adopted by Abdulhamid himself. It was revived by the CUP, by both Djemal and Enver Pashas in particular, during the war to elicit sympathy from Islamic communities inside and outside Ottoman domains. It was being used now specifically to enhance bonds of solidarity with Istanbul in the Arab provinces and to solicit support for the Ottoman war effort from India, Persia, and Indonesia. Through his educational work in the Salahiyya College in Damascus and Jerusalem, but also in propaganda efforts against the British and the use of Muslim troops from Egypt and India in the Allied campaign, Djemal Pasha played a principal role during the war in propagating the Islamic bond as an instrument of mobilization. In Damascus he established al-Sharq newspaper (with government subsidy), edited by Kurd Ali and Shakib Arslan, to propagate the idea of Islamic unity among the Ottomans.70 Kurd Ali mentions the paper apologetically in his autobiography: This year [1915] the government launched in Damascus al-Sharq newspaper with German instigation. They asked me to be editor-in-chief, which I was for a while. Ahmad Djemal Pasha asked me to remove my name from [the masthead of] al-Muqtabas, to ensure better circulation for al-Sharq, which continued to appear until the end of the war. It was basically German-Turkish propaganda aimed at audiences in the Arab world and Islamic countries.71 According to Çiçek, the main purpose of the paper was to counter the influence of the Arabist movement in Syria, which dominated the local press. But, by emphasizing the need to rescue Egypt from the British yoke, its content was to show the common fate of Ottoman Muslims in the imperialist campaign.72 But it also had cultural content, showing the common interests of all Syrian Arabs in

50  Salim Tamari supporting the Ottoman state in its “civilizing mission” to restore the glorious past of Muslims and to uplift the material condition of Syrian youth through education and scientific development.73 After the rebellion of Sherif Hussein, it devoted a significant portion of its coverage to the “treason of the Hashemites.”74 It is clear, however, that one of the major problems of al-Sharq as a propaganda tool for the CUP was to maintain Arab support for the idea of Ottomanism while pursuing the repressive campaign against Arab nationalists.

The Hijazi Expedition: in defense of Osmanlılık A few months after the appearance of the Scientific Expedition report, Muhammad Kurd Ali authored a companion volume on the exploration of Hijaz, entitled “The Anwarite Expedition to the Hijazi and Syrian Lands.”75 As the title indicates, this expedition report was mainly a tribute to Enver Pasha, who hardly figures in the earlier document. But, unlike the Gallipoli report, this tribute lacks an investigative analytical dimension and appears mainly as a propagandistic and hyperbolic salute to Enver. Years later, Kurd Ali was to regret his association with this report, referring to it in Irshad al-Albab as “a superficial piece of propaganda.”76 This second report comprises a detailed description of Enver’s tour of Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, Sinai, and Hijaz in January of 1916 (Kanun Thani, 1331, Rumi calendar)––accompanied in part by Ahmad Djemal, Djemal Pasha Mersinli (Eighth Army), and Hasan Bey al-Jabi, the governor of Jaffa. The report is a long tribute to Enver to compensate for neglecting or marginalizing in the Scientific Expedition report. By contrast here he is identified as a rising star of the Ottomans and their hero.77 In the special ceremony held in Damascus at the beginning of the second expedition he is described by Abdi Tawfiq Bey as the “Defender of Eternal and glorious Ottomanism” [al ‘Uthmaniyyah al-Abadiyyah al-M’,adhama]. The term used by Tawfiq Bey was Osmanlılık in Turkish and al-‘Uthmaniyya in Arabic, as can be seen from the translation provided for this speech. Curiously, this is one of the few cases in the two reports in which the term is used in reference to the Unionist ideology. Elsewhere the stress was on the Islamic affinity of the remaining ethnicities in the Ottoman lands. Enver is credited here with four major achievements, which now seem to surpass the feats of Djemal Pasha: He is the main leader of the Inqilab Uthmani [i.e., the constitutional revolution of 1908].78 He led the march on the capital on 13 March 1909 to smash the counter-revolutionary restoration of Abdulhamid [ikhmad shararat al-raj‘a alistibdadiyya] and to remove the Sultan from power.79 He led the alliance of the Sanusi tribes in North Africa to liberate Libya from the Italian yoke.80 And finally, as Minister of War, he led the defense of the Dardanelles against the British and European invasion and defeated the onslaught on Gallipoli [no mention is made here of Mustafa Kemal].81

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  51 Compared to the achievements of Enver Pasha, Djemal Pasha becomes (once the superlatives are toned down) merely the “great reformer” and the future liberator of Egypt from the British yoke, an act which was soon to become an illusory dream.

The Palestinian episode: conqueror vs. reformer In contrast to the Scientific Expedition report, which contains detailed descriptions of the Anatolian provinces and the state of military preparedness in the Dardanelles, the report on the Hijazi Expedition aims to show popular support for the Ottoman leadership in Syria, in Palestine, and, to a lesser extent––despite the title––in Hijaz. The coverage of the Palestine episode in Enver’s trip is particularly extensive. Filistin, significantly, is referred to as “Syria’s sister” rather than an extension of it.82 Although Jaffa was not on the itinerary, both Enver and Djemal made a detour at the beginning of their excursion at the insistence of the governor, Hassan Bey al-Jabi. It transpired that Jabi wanted the CUP leadership to celebrate the new plan for what had emerged as Palestine’s fastest growing city––an urban façade for Ottoman-Arab modernity. Enver was asked to inaugurate the newly constructed Djemal Pasha Boulevard, described as the broadest street in Greater Syria (30 meters in width). The parade involved tens of thousands of cheering people lining Ramleh station, the Seray, and clock square, ending at the boundary of Tel Aviv, where Hassan Bey’s mosque in Manshiyyeh was also due to be inaugurated.83 In the report, the mosque is identified as the New Jabi Mosque.84 On the outskirts of Jaffa the procession halted by the town’s famous orange groves so that Djemal and Enver could sample the famous oranges.85 In the crowd’s salutations, Enver, significantly, is greeted as the military leader,while Djemal is the great reformer:86 Here is Palestine whose Arabdom was blessed by your presence, You, the most enlightened of people [anwar an-nas], Turks and Arabs.87 The expedition’s encampment in Bi’r al-Sabi’ (Beershiba) and the visit to the military installations in northern Sinai (tih sahrasi in Turkish) were highlights of the trip. The city had become the pride of modern Ottoman planning for a garrison town. The Hijazi railroad and asphalted roads linking the south of Palestine to the rest of Syria were seen as major feats of engineering: It is now possible to traverse the road between Bir Hassana and Beershiba in four hours––an engineering task which was concluded efficiently by the Fourth Army in record time, which rendered these desert roads passable, whereas previously they could not be used even by the most basic traffic.88 The army corps of engineers is credited with digging artesian wells, laying railroad tracks, and constructing military training facilities and airports (at Hafir and Ibin). “Our army is now in full readiness to march on Egypt and liberate it from

52  Salim Tamari the claws of the [British] occupier.”89 In Beershiba, tribal deputations from Hijaz arrived to greet the commanders, perform a ceremonial dance, and chant songs “in their Bedouin dialects.”90 At Medina station the Ottoman expedition was greeted with organized demonstrations of popular support similar to those it had received in Damascus, Beirut, Jaffa, Jerusalem, and Beershiba. In Medina, however, the reception took an archaic, almost medieval form, perhaps because of the sacredness of the place and the attempt to confer religious legitimacy on the event. Here is how the correspondent of al-Muqtabas in Damascus described it: The assemblage moved forward in unison. The city’s deputy governor Jamal Bey and the chief of police Bashir Bey had mobilized the commoners and notables of the city, who were preceded by the Sherifian aghas with their armed slaves and drums, followed by the permanent imams of the Prophet’s haram with their instruments[?]. Then came the main mu’adhins of the haram wearing their uniforms, intoning al-hamziyya and barada chants that echoed across the whole city. Next marched the Sherifian notables and the city’s potentates, followed by the shuyukh of the various sufi orders [mashayikh al-turuq], led by Sayyid Hamza al-Rifa‘i, head of the Rifa‘iyya order. Behind them came the students of the i‘dadi schools led by Hamza Effendi Wasfi and the teachers of the city bearing the banners of victory framed in decorative silk. All were chanting patriotic verses in Arabic and Turkish.91 The visit to Medina was the final and pivotal event of the expedition. Significantly, it was portrayed as the rallying moment when the collective Syrian and Palestinian leadership came to pay homage to Enver and Djemal Pashas in their Egyptian campaign. After the Hijazi notables had made their speeches, the rally was addressed by the muftis of Beirut and Damascus, the mufti of Jerusalem Kamel Effendi alHusseini, the dean of Damascus notables (Naqib al-Ashraf) Adib Taqi ad-Din, and the ubiquitous Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi.92 The audience included a gathering of members from the Hijazi tribes, as well as hundreds of pilgrims from India, Algeria, and Morocco. In support of the campaign, al-Shukairi gave a major speech about jihad as a binding requirement on all Muslims. Just before the expedition headed back to Damascus, the two commanders appeared on the platform of the train station, holding hands with “our popular prince” Amir Faisal, bidding farewell to the visitors.93 Only the Sherif of Mecca, King Hussein, was notable by his absence.94 The Medina rally was clearly choreographed as a major event of mobilization and solidarity for the Suez campaign. Its main themes were tribal support, Islamic unity, and Arab–Turkish brotherhood in the crucible of the Ottoman war effort. The slogans of the constitutional revolution, of citizenship, and Osmanlılık had faded away. The events described took place in the shadow of secret negotiations between the Allies and the Hijazi leadership, still nominally subject to Ottoman command. The expedition lasted one month, from 13 February to 15 March 1916. Sherif Hussein declared his insurrection against the Ottoman state on 27 June 1916.

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  53 Barely three months separated the events of these rallies from the final rupture between Istanbul and Medina. The Sherif of Mecca announced two reasons for the insurrection: the undermining of the precepts of the Islamic caliphate by the secular command of the CUP and the beginnings of a campaign of repression that leadership was launching against Arab nationalists.95 But it was clear from the announcement that it was the gallows of Beirut, Damascus, and Jerusalem that presented the decisive moment.

Conclusion: the Syrian and Hijazi expeditions in retrospect Muhammad Kurd Ali appears in facial profile on the 25-piaster stamp issued by the Syrian Arab Republic in 1976 to commemorate his centenary. He has become a leading light of Syrian national identity and an icon of contemporary Arab nationalism. His detractors today have been reduced to Salafi Islamic thinkers who believe that he was a propagator of materialist doctrines disguised as a Muslim reformer, and worse––an apologist for Mu‘tazilite doctrine. Interestingly enough, nobody now accuses him of being an Ottomanist propagandist or an apologist for the excesses of Djemal and Enver Pashas, which he was. Those “deviations” are forgiven in the context of the new revisionism that has begun to reexamine the Ottoman past in light of the Balkanization of the Middle East after Sykes–Picot and the fall of the Faisali government in Damascus. The two expeditions, the first to Anatolia and Gallipoli and the second to Syria, Palestine, and Hijaz, were made at a crucial juncture in both the Great War and the rising tension between the CUP leadership and secessionist groups in the Arab provinces. The earlier successes in defeating British forces in Suez and at Kut al-Amara, and the thwarting of the ANZAC–British forces at Gallipoli, helped to create an impression of Ottoman resilience in the minds of the Arabs. The first expedition succeeded in mobilizing some of the main Islamic leaders, intellectuals, and journalists in the Arab East, such as Baqir, Kurd Ali, al-Shukairi, and Rimawi, to defend the Ottoman government and Djemal Pasha’s administration against their critics. These figures came from all the Arab districts of the empire and included a large and influential Palestinian contingent. They defended the government and Djemal’s leadership, with all his cruelties, in the name of Ottomanism, common Ottoman citizenship, and Ottoman modernity and its material achievements in promoting development in Syria. But they were performed mainly in the defense of the Islamic Commonwealth––al-Jami‘a al-Islamiyyah. These were obviously contradictory aspects of Ottoman claims for Arab loyalty, and the strain shows in the various speeches, poetry, and reports of the participants. These contained valuable observations by some of the leading journalists and writers in Greater Syria on progress and military preparedness in the Anatolian regions. Despite their defensive tone, the reports should not be seen as apologias for a collapsing regime. They demonstrate that the Ottoman sultanate and the CUP government had substantial support among the Arab population in the early war years. This support was independently monitored by British and French intelligence on popular Arab sentiment towards the Ottomans during the

54  Salim Tamari war.96 In undertaking a defense of the Ottoman leadership against Arab separatism, the authors of the “Scientific Report” outlined in detail the major achievements realized by the government and by Djemal Pasha’s administration in modernizing the school system and building colleges, hospitals, and other public facilities. Particular attention is paid to Djemal’s extension of the Hijazi railroad and telegraph lines linking central and southern Palestine to Syria, Anatolia, and Hijaz. These opposing influences within the expedition were manifested by the strong advocates of Arabism in its ranks, namely Salim al-Ya‘qubi, Sheikh Ali Rimawi, and Kurd Ali himself. Their stance avowed an Arab cultural identity dressed in Ottoman garb, predicating a strong association with the Ottoman state as the guardian of the unity of its ethnic components. It was expressed with a sense of pride stemming from a recognition, in their minds, of Arab superiority over slavish Turkish discipline and of the Arab roots of Islam. Their Arabness was articulated plainly through Rimawi’s literary virtuosity, Ya‘qubi’s strong identification with the purity of Wahhabism, and Kurd Ali’s mission to restore the glory of Syrian civilization. There is considerable focus in the expedition reporting on the Hijazi attitudes towards the sultanate. Prince Faisal and the Hashemites appear in the first expedition as important supporters of the war effort. Their involvement was crucial for the CUP government because of their symbolic status as guardians of the Holy Places and as legitimizing loyalists of the Ottoman caliphate. Amir Faisal, who was on a solidarity mission in Damascus during this period, and Sharif Hussein are here designated as partners in the Ottoman campaign against the British. In the second expedition the treatment of the Hijazis becomes more cautious. The Hashemites are now seen as vacillating in their support. Djemal’s ruthless campaign against Syrian nationalists, including the execution of leading patriots in Beirut, Damascus, and Jerusalem, had alienated an increasing number of Ottoman loyalists, and, even though the Hashemites had already made the decision to secede from the Ottoman regime when these speeches were made, the degree of their “betrayal” was not yet clear to Istanbul. A third issue permeating the expedition reports is the question of “Turkifi­ cation.” Muhammad Kurd Ali presented the most sophisticated case for Arab support of an Ottoman commonwealth based on Turkish–Arab unity. He also made the most succinct plea for bilingualism as an instrument of integration in the empire. His contribution to the discourse of unity in the Gallipoli document contrasts sharply with his apologetic propaganda on behalf of Enver Pasha in the Hijazi report [al-Rihla Al-Anwariyyah]. Turkification in the latter appears as a linguistic issue articulating a common Ottoman identity and a question of political integration of the Arab provinces within the empire. Contrary to subsequent accusations by Syrian and Arab nationalists, Turkification is not posited as a forceful imposition against Arab culture. On the contrary, the report proposes a parallel process of Ottoman integration by means of what it terms “Arab Turkification” and “Turkish Arabization” through the introduction of general curricular reform in the Syrian and Anatolian schooling systems. The framing of these assimilatory schemes was the common Islamic bond

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  55 within al-Jami‘a al-Islamiyyah. But these schemes are proposed here, mainly by Muhammad Kurd Ali and Asad al-Shukairi, as general guidelines for preserving the union against centrifugal currents, and no attempt is made to explain either how they would be implemented or their social ramifications. Nor is there any mention of the status of other ethnic or religious groups in the Ottoman domain except a single collective reference to Kurds, Armenians, Greeks [Rumis], and Bulgarians as constituent groups of the realm.97 Aside from Lebanon, where the delegates visited mission schools and speeches were made by local orators in favor of Osmanlılık, Christian Arabs were ignored in both reports, and the campaign against the Armenians was not even hinted at. It was emblematic of the two “apologetic” reports that their chief author, Muhammad Kurd Ali, was a cosmopolitan man of Circassian-Kurdish descent, which may have been a factor in his strident adoption of Ottomanism and bilingualism as an instrument of national integration. His descent may also have been a factor in the sudden renunciation of his national identity in favor of Syrian-Arab nationalism. He was soon to regret his authorship of the report, which cast a dark shadow on his integrity as a scholar during the Faisali period in Damascus. We note here the retreat in the discourse on Osmanlılık and the rise in the use of references to Islam, Islamic unity, and the strength of the Islamic bond in the sultanate. Not surprisingly, this discourse on the Islamic core of Ottomanism was also adopted by several Christian intellectuals in Mount Lebanon and Palestine, such as Najib Nassar, Butrus al-Bustani, and others.98 In their work, however, Osmanlılık was a secular doctrine of emancipated citizenship with an Islamic cultural core. In Palestine, Zionism was a factor in creating a split in the local intelligentsia’s views towards CUP leadership. In Nablus and Jaffa, for example, there was considerable support for the Hamidian restoration, arising from the fear that the Young Turks were exhibiting sympathetic attitudes towards Jewish settlement, while the Sultan was stridently opposed to land sale and colonization.99 A strong case has been made in recent literature in support of the view that Ottomanist ideology crystallized in the Arab East through the emergence of an imperial citizenship, or at least the quest for it, during the constitutional period. Michelle Campos examines this development in Palestine and Butrus Abu Manneh in Lebanon. Both stress the important role of the Christian intelligentsia (as well as Jewish Ottomanism in the case of Palestine) in the growth of a common bond of citizenship, transcending sectarian boundaries.100 On the other hand, Hasan Kayalı demonstrates that this incipient, all-embracing notion of imperial citizenship was reduced during the war years to a CUP-driven notion of an Islamic Ottomanism whose core was Syria and Anatolia. This development was hastened by the secession of European provinces of the sultanate, by colonial threats to the unity of the empire, and by the Armenian question. But this Islamic Osmanlılık was itself subject to challenges within Syria and Hijaz––by Arabist intellectuals in Syria and by Hijazi opposition to the undermining of the caliphate by the Young Turks, as well as by Wahhabi challenges to Istanbul.101 The challenge came, in the first instance, from Arab nationalists and autonomists threatened by what they saw as Turanic tendencies within the CUP leadership and, in the second instance (in Hijaz as well as in

56  Salim Tamari Palestine), from the Arab perception that the Young Turks were undermining of the principles of Islamic rule as they saw it. It is unlikely that the Scientific Expedition or its companion report, al-Rihla al-Anwariyyah, swayed the literate public in Syria and Palestine in favor of the Ottoman war effort. The rising tide of sentiment against Djemal Pasha’s administration was already gaining momentum and was compounded by the devastating effect of Safarbarlik (conscription) and the economic blockade of the Syrian coast. But the fact that the two expeditions to Gallipoli and Hijaz could muster such an influential group of leading figures in journalism, education, and ‘ulama––few of whom were known for their critical attitude towards the government––showed that public attitudes at the height of the military campaign continued to uphold the bonds that united Syria to Anatolia, that a substantial body of the Arab public continued to believe in the Ottoman realm as their own, and that separation from Istanbul still carried the mark of betrayal. Of all the authors involved in the two expeditions, Muhammad Kurd Ali was the only one to maintain a lasting influence in the Arab East and beyond. His detractors and supporters continue to debate his ideas to the present day. His opponents see him as an Arab nationalist disguised as a religious scholar––one who favors Christian Arabists over the Muslim salafis with whom he disagreed. He was severely criticized by conservative scholars for his championing of sufur (the movement to discard the hijab) and for claiming, according to one of his opponents, that the instruction to wear the veil applied only to the Prophet’s wives, not to Muslim women in general.102 He was also attacked for his defense of the deeds of the CUP leadership in the two reports, even when he himself did not believe in their mission. Kheir al-Din al-Zarkali, who was Kurd Ali’s great student and admirer, has the last word on his predicament. In his biographical lexicon, he writes that “The ghost of Djemal Pasha continued to haunt him a long time after the fall of the Ottoman Sultanate.”103

Notes   1 I am indebted to Ayhan Aktar for his comments on an earlier draft of this essay.   2 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, pp. 6, 21. Kurd Ali was the chief author of the companion report to this volume on the expedition to the Hijaz: M. Kurd ʻAli, Al-Riḥlah Al-Anwariyah Ila Al-Asqaʻ Al-Hijaziyah Wa-Al-Shamiyah.   3 Fischbach, “As’ad Shuqayri,” pp. 448–9.   4 See Khuri-Makdisi, The Eastern Mediterranean and the Making of Global Radicalism.   5 Fakher Eldin, “Hawajis al-Nahda fi rasa’il Jubran Kuzma ila Jamal al-Husseini”; see also Fakher Eldin, “Communities of Owners.”   6 Kurd ʻAli, Al-riḥlah, p. 219.   7 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, pp. 8–9.   8 See for example, ibid., pp. 63–4.   9 Ibid., pp. 150–51.   10 Al-Odat, “Sheikh Ali al-Rimawi,” pp. 221–2.   11 Yehôšuaʻ, Tarih as-sihafa al-ʻarabiya fi Filastin fi ‘l-ʻahd al-ʻuthmani, p. 74.   12 Ali al-Rimawi, al-Najah, no. 50; quoted ibid., pp. 74–5.

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  57   13 Ibid., p. 75.   14 haHerut, 8 April 1913, quoted ibid., p. 76.   15 For Rimawi’s hagiographic poetry, see al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, pp. 67–8, 196–7, 208–11, and 283–4. His odes to the Ottoman armed forces and to Enver appear in Kurd ʻAli, al-Riḥlah, pp. 229–33 and 250–52 respectively.   16 Palestine Gazette, Supplement 38a, 26 December 1918; cited in Yehôšuaʻ, Tarih assihafa, p. 76.   17 Tamimi, Ḥassan Filastin, p. 73.   18 Ibid., p. 2.   19 Yaʻqub ʻAwdat, Min aʻlam al-fikr wa-al-adab fi Filastin, p. 272.   20 Ibid., p. 273.   21 Ibid., pp. 273–4.   22 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, p. 198.   23 Kurd ʻAli, Al-riḥlah, pp. 234–6.   24 Yaʻqub ʻAwdat, Min aʻlam, pp. 673–4; Tamimi, Ḥassan Filastin, pp. 14–15.   25 Tamimi, Ḥassan Filastin, pp. 19–20.   26 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, p. 90.   27 Ibid., p. 91.   28 Ibid., p. 92.   29 Ibid., p. 93. For Djemal Pasha’s public works schemes and infrastructural investments in Syria and Palestine, see Hasan Kayalı, “Wartime Regional and Imperial Integration of Greater Syria during World War I.” In his memoirs, Ali Fuad Erden, staff officer of Djemal Pasha, mentions that they have built 600 km of new roads and repaired 450 km. See Erden, Birinci Dünya Harbinde Suriye Hatıraları, pp. 113–19. I am indebted to Ayhan Aktar for this last reference.   30 M. Kurd Ali, “Hayat mu’alif Khitat al-Sham,” p. 338.   31 Ibid., pp. 333–47.   32 Ibid., p. 344.   33 Ibid., p. 339.   34 Ibid., p. 340.   35 Ibid., pp. 340–41.   36 Ibid., p. 341; also in al-Ghazi, “Muhammad Kurd Ali, the Explorer.”   37 Seikaly, “Damascene Intellectual Life in the Opening Years of the Twentieth Century.”   38 Ibid., pp. 126–7.   39 Ibid., p. 137.   40 Ibid., pp. 139, 148.   41 Ibid., p. 131, quoting from Muhammad Kurd Ali, “al Arabiyya wal Turkiyya.”   42 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, p. 138.   43 Ibid., p. 143.   44 See especially “Reflections on Urbanism in the Sultanate” and “A Descriptive Note on Anatolia,” in Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, pp. 222–34.   45 Tamari, “Shifting Ottoman Conceptions of Palestine.”   46 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, p. 213.   47 Ibid., p. 214.   48 Ibid., p. 215.   49 Ibid., p. 216.   50 Ibid., p. 218.   51 Ibid., p. 219.   52 Ibid., p. 231.

58  Salim Tamari   53 Ibid., p. 233.   54 Ibid.   55 Ibid., p. 247.   56 Kayalı, Arabs and Young Turks, pp. 40–46.   57 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, pp. 247–8.   58 Ibid., p. 248.   59 Ibid.   60 Ibid., p. 249.   61 Ibid., p. 266.   62 Ibid., pp. 268–70.   63 Ibid., p. 270.   64 Ibid., p. 278.   65 See Zürcher, “Ottoman Labour Batallions in World War I.”   66 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, p. 279.   67 Ibid., p. 278.   68 Ibid., p. 78.   69 Ibid., p. 79.   70 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 6–9.   71 Kurd Ali, “Hayat,” p. 341.   72 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 69.   73 Ibid., pp. 69–70.   74 Ibid., p. 70.   75 Kurd ʻAli, Al-riḥlah.   76 Ali Afifi Ali Ghazi, “Muhammad Kurd Ali: Rahhala fi sabeel al-‘ilm,” al-Hayat, 2 February 2013.   77 Kurd ʻAli, Al-riḥlah, p. 233.   78 Ibid., p. 101.   79 Ibid., pp. 96, 116.   80 Ibid., p. 124.   81 Ibid., p. 126.   82 Ibid., p. 219.   83 Ibid., pp. 221–2   84 Ibid., p. 221.   85 Ibid.   86 Ibid., p. 228.   87 Ibid., p. 224.   88 Ibid., p. 254.   89 Ibid., p. 253.   90 Ibid., p. 255.   91 Ibid., p. 259.   92 Ibid.   93 Ibid., pp. 266–70.   94 Sherif Hussein, the Prince of Mecca, sent a note to Enver apologizing for his inability to come to Medina and sent two jeweled swords to the two commanders: ibid., p. 269.   95 “http://www.firstworldwar.com/source/arabindependence_hussein.htm (accessed 25 November 2013).   96 See Al-Salih,“Mawqif ahl shamal filistin min nihayat al-dawlah al-‘uthmaniyyah wabidayat al-ihtilal al-baritani,” pp. 64–5.   97 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, p. 219.

Kurd Ali and the Syrian-Palestinian intelligentsia  59   98 See Abu Manneh, “Arab Ottomanists’ Reactions to the Young Turk Revolution.”   99 Nimr, Taʼrikh jabal Nabulus wa-al-Balqaʼ, pp. 99–126. 100 Campos, Ottoman Brothers: Muslims, Christians, and Jews in Early TwentiethCentury Palestine; Abu-Manneh, “The Christians between Ottomanism and Syrian Nationalism.” 101 Engin Deniz Akarlı refers to Kayalı’s lack of differentiation between various Islamic tendencies in “Arab Nationalism and the Ottomans.” 102 Mashari, “Nadharat fi Takhbitat Kurd Ali fil Mudhakarat, Multaqa Ahlu al-Hadith.” 103 Entry on “Muhammad Kurd Ali” in Zirikli et al., Tartib al-aʻlam ʻala al-aʻwam: al-aʻlam.

References Abu Manneh, B., “Arab Ottomanists’ Reactions to the Young Turk Revolution,” in Y. Ben-Bassat and E. Ginio (eds), Late Ottoman Palestine: The Period of Young Turk Rule. London: I. B. Tauris, 2011, pp. 145–65. Abu-Manneh, B., “The Christians between Ottomanism and Syrian Nationalism: The Ideas of Butrus Al-Bustani,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 11 (1980): 287–304. Akarlı, E. D., “Arab Nationalism and the Ottomans,” Journal of Palestine Studies 27 (1998): 107–8. Al-Baqir, M., et al., al-Bi‘thah al-‘ilmiyah ilá dar al-khilafah al-Islamiyah. Beirut: Scientific Press, Dar Sadir, 1334 H, 1916. Al-Ghazi, A. A., “Muhammad Kurd Ali, the Explorer,” Dar al-Fikr, 18 February 2013. Al-Odat, Y., “Sheikh Ali al-Rimawi,” in A‘lam al-Fikr wa-l-Adab fi Filastin. Jerusalem: Dar al-Isra’, 1992. Al Salih, M. M., “Mawqif ahl shamal filistin min nihayat al-dawlah al-‘uthmaniyyah wabidayat al-ihtilal al-baritani” [The Positions of North Palestinians towards the Ottomans at the End of their Rule and the Beginning of the British Occupation], Majallat alDirasat al-filistiniyyah, 63 (Summer 2005). Campos, M. U., Ottoman Brothers: Muslims, Christians, and Jews in Early TwentiethCentury Palestine. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2011. Çiçek, M. T., War and State Formation in Syria: Cemal Pasha’s Governorate during World War I, 1914–1917. London: Routledge, 2014. Erden, A. F., Birinci Dünya Harbinde Suriye Hatıraları. Istanbul: İş Bankası Yayınları, 2003. Fakher Eldin, M., “Communities of Owners: Land Law, Governance, and Politics in Palestine, 1882–1948,” unpublished PhD thesis, New York University, 2008. Fakher Eldin, M., “Hawajis al-Nahda fi rasa’il Jubran Kuzma ila Jamal al-Husseini,” Hawliyyat al-Quds, no. 12 (Winter 2012): 25–33. Fischbach, M., “As’ad Shuqayri,” in Mahdī ‘Abd al-Hadi (ed.), Palestinian Personalities: A Biographic Dictionary. Jerusalem: Passia, 2006. Kayalı, H., “Wartime Regional and Imperial Integration of Greater Syria during World War I,” in T. Philipp and B. Schäbler (eds), The Syrian Land: Processes of Integration and Fragmentation: Bilād al-Shām from the 18th to the 20th Century. Stuttgart: Steiner, 1998, pp. 295–306. Kayalı, H., Arabs and Young Turks: Ottomanism, Arabism, and Islamism in the Ottoman Empire, 1908–1918. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997. Khuri-Makdisi, I., The Eastern Mediterranean and the Making of Global Radicalism, 1860–1914. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010.

60  Salim Tamari Kurd Ali, M., “Hayat mu’alif Khitat al-Sham: tarjamatuhu binafsihi,” in Khitat al-Sham, vol. 6. Damascus: al-Matbaʻah al-Ḥadithah. Kurd Ali, M., “al Arabiyya wal Turkiyya,” al-Muqtabas IV/2 (1909): 109–12. Kurd Ali, M., Al-riḥlah Al-Anwariyah Ila Al-Asqaʻ Al-Hijaziyah Wa-Al-Shamiyah: Wa-hiya Ṣafaḥat Ḍammat Shaml Ma Tafarraqa Min Siyaḥat Rajul Al-ʻuthmaniyin Wa-Baṭal Al-Islam Wa-Al-Muslimin, Sahib Al-Dawlah Wa-Al-ʻutufah Anwar Basha. Beirut: Scientific Press, Dar Sadir, 1916. Mashari, A., “Nadharat fi Takhbitat Kurd Ali fil Mudhakarat, Multaqa Ahlu al-Hadith,” www.ahlalhdeeth.com/vb/showthread.php?t=93398 (accessed 10 December 2013). Nimr, I., Taʼrikh Jabal Nabulus wa-al-Balqaʼ, vol. 3. Nablus: Maṭbaʻat al-Nasr al-tijariyya, 1961. Tamari, S., “Shifting Ottoman Conceptions of Palestine: Part 1: Filistin Risalesi and the Two Jamals, Jerusalem Quarterly 47 (2011): 28–38; “Part 2: Ethnography and Cartography,” 48 (2011): 6–16. Seikaly, S., “Damascene Intellectual Life in the Opening Years of the Twentieth Century,” in Marwan R. Buheiry (ed.), Intellectual life in the Arab East, 1890–1939. [Beirut]: Center for Arab and Middle East Studies, American University of Beirut, 1981, pp. 125–53. Arabic edition in al-Hayah al-fikriyah fi al-Mashriq al-ʻArabi, 1890–1939, ed. Roger Owen and Marwan R. Buheiry. Beirut: Markaz Dirasat al-Wahdah al-ʻArabiya, 1983. Tamimi, S. S., Ḥassan Filastin: Salim Abu al-Iqbal al-Ya‘qubi, 1880–1941: ḥayatuhu washi‘ruh. Jerusalem: Ittiḥad al-Kuttab al-Filastiniyin, 1991. Ya‘qub, ‘Awdat, Min a‘lam al-fikr wa-al-adab fi Filastin. Amman: Wakalat al-Tawzi‘ alUrduniyah, 1987. Yehôšuaʻ, Y., Tarih as-sihafa al-ʻarabiya fi Filastin fi ‘l-ʻahd al-ʻutmani: 1908–1918 [The Arabic Press in Palestine during the Ottoman Regime]. Jerusalem: Matbaʻat al-Maʻarif, 1974. Zirikli, K., Zaza, Z.., Tamim, M. N., and Tamim, H. N., Tartib al-aʻlam ʻala al-aʻwam: al-aʻlam, vol. 6. Beirut: Dar al-Arqam ibn Abi al-Arqam, 1990. Zürcher, E. J., “Ottoman Labour Batallions in World War I,” www.arts.yorku.ca/hist/ tgallant/documents/zurcherottomanlaborbattalions.pdf (accessed 23 October 2013).

3 A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha The Arab literati’s visit to the Gallipoli front, 18–23 October 1915 Ayhan Aktar1 The Young Turks’ policies towards the Arabs were shaped by the “triumvirate” of Talat, Enver, and Djemal Pashas during World War I. However, it is difficult to classify the policies of the Committee for Union and Progess (CUP) under a single heading such as “the policies of Turkification,” “the union of all Ottomans and Muslims,” or “establishing the reign of terror” in Arab lands only. As M. Talha Çiçek rightly underlines, “Although the three party leaders had some shared political goals, such as the centralization of the empire and the end of foreign interference in internal affairs, this did not prevent the emergence of different factions, each of which followed its own agenda.”2 As one might imagine, clashes within these factions and frictions between the three strongmen of the “triumvirate” not only shaped the policies implemented in the Arab lands but also determined the daily praxis of the ruling CUP elite towards Arab notables. The Young Turks’ treatment of these lands and their appreciation of their notables varied within a large spectrum of policy options. Some of them, like Djemal Pasha, proceeded in accordance with the considerations of wartime and tried to win round the common people by building roads and developing the infrastructure of the region. At the same time, he crushed the opposition of Arab notables by establishing a “reign of terror”: some Arab nationalists were sent to the gallows and others were deported to the Anatolian interior.3 As M. Talha Çiçek rightly argues, Djemal Pasha perceived the Arab notables as a “barrier” preventing the penetration of the Ottoman state to the Arab provinces: “Cemal [sic] Pasha’s governorate in Syria was a struggle with the ‘barriers’ preventing the Ottoman state from controlling, leading and shaping its ‘citizens’, as well as an endeavour to produce ideal citizens by way of schools and conscription.”4 Interestingly, some other unionists, such as Colonel Mustafa Kemal (later Atatürk), had already developed an ethnic version of Turkish nationalism before the war, which excluded Arabs. During his service from 1905 to 1907 as a staff captain in the 30th Cavalry Regiment stationed at Damascus, Mustafa Kemal found himself for the first time in a non-Turkish Muslim social and political environment––in Syria and Palestine. As early as 1907, he confessed to his close friend Ali Fuad (later Cebesoy) that “the problem facing them was how to produce a Turkish state out of a crumbling [Ottoman] empire.”5 He also added that

62  Ayhan Aktar the southern borders of a future Turkish nation-state could consist only of cities such as Antioch, Aleppo, and Mosul. The rest of Greater Syria would be left to the Arabs.6 He also argued that the Great Powers were already contemplating sharing the spoils of the crumbling empire and would probably colonize the region soon. It is interesting to note that the crude political realism of Colonel Mustafa Kemal forced him to develop a total disregard towards Arabs, Greater Syria, and the Hijaz as early as 1907. In this chapter I will try to analyze Djemal Pasha’s attempts to counter British propaganda by sending a group of Arab literati to Istanbul and Gallipoli during the Great War. The reception of the Arab elite in Istanbul by the CUP government and at the Gallipoli front by the nationalist officers, including Colonel Mustafa Kemal, give some insight into how different groups and factions perceived the Arab lands and treated the local elites during that time. The story of the literati’s visit to these places is meaningful for examining different ideological and practical positions existing within the CUP during the Gallipoli campaign.

British war propaganda on the Palestinian front After the Ottoman fleet’s attack on the Russian port cities of the Black Sea and its engagement with the Russian Navy during 29–31 October 1914, Entente diplomats working in Ottoman lands were first arrested and later forced to leave the country. The commander of the Fourth Army, Zeki Pasha, stationed in Hama, Syria, began arresting Belgian, British, French, and Russian citizens, including diplomatic consuls and their staff, on 2 November.7 The Ottoman Empire entered the war, and within two weeks nearly all citizens of the Entente powers were deported from Jerusalem. One of the few diplomats left in that city was Conde de Ballobar, the young Spanish consul. Fortunately, he remained in Jerusalem during the war and kept a record of the events in his diary up to May 1919. He lived under the rule of Djemal Pasha and experienced the British occupation of Jerusalem that started in December 1917. Ballobar’s diary is a very fascinating source not only because it gives a general picture of Ottoman administration in the Arab lands, but especially because it helps us understand Djemal Pasha’s despotic rule over Palestine. This young diplomat’s account is a remarkable source on lesser-known aspects of the social history of Jerusalem, including Allied propaganda and the war rumors circulating among the urban elite. The British propaganda office set up in Cairo encouraged the defection and surrender of Ottoman soldiers throughout the war. Beginning in April 1915, seaplanes were dropping propaganda leaflets over Palestine that described how great life was for the Ottoman defectors in Egypt’s prisoner-of-war camps. Yigal Sheffy mentions that propaganda leaflets “were dropped every two weeks over Ludd, Ramleh, and Jaffa, as well as over military and administrative centres along the coast.”8 Later, the British discovered a more effective way of delivering their material: they began airdropping packets of cigarettes wrapped in propaganda leaflets.9 Naturally, the effects of this propaganda were felt in Jerusalem. For instance, on 21 July 1915, Conde de Ballobar wrote the following in his diary:

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  63 Absolutely no news of the war. The hydroplane that visited Jaffa constantly tossed out newspapers and proclamations announcing that the Allies have taken control of Gallipoli and, in a short while, they will be in Constantinople. I am so accustomed to the lies that I don’t believe this news, nor the news [the Austrian Consul] Kraus gave me yesterday: According to him, in the latest and terrible battle in the Dardanelles, the Allies had 10,000 casualties and the Turks another enormous amount (nonetheless, there must be something wrong).10 While Conde de Ballobar did not trust the propaganda, there were many local Arabs who did. They could believe that British and French forces had already occupied Gallipoli and would soon be in Istanbul. Consequently, British propaganda was able to reduce the morale of both soldiers and civilians and so damage the Ottomans’ war effort. As commander of the Fourth Army and general governor of Syria, Djemal Pasha had probably seen the British propaganda material through samples brought to him by his intelligence officers. Since he did not have his own airplanes with which to counteract the British, he had to devise other methods of psychological warfare.11 It was probably in the summer of 1915 that he contemplated sending a group of influential Arabs to Gallipoli so that they could witness the resistance of the Ottoman Army there and, on their return, tell the Arab public of their impressions. Probably during August 1915, Djemal Pasha and his staff officers started to organize such a group. In Turkish sources and archival documents, this group is known as Suriye Heyet-i İlmîyesi ve Edebiyesi, which can be translated loosely as “Syrian literati.” Apart from counteracting British propaganda, Djemal Pasha probably had another motive in mind. In those days, he was also prosecuting Arab nationalists who had preached decentralization and cultural autonomy for the Arab provinces before the war and who had flirted with foreign diplomats. It may be that he wanted this tour by the Arab literati to be perceived as an expression of their loyalty to the Ottoman throne, both in Istanbul and in the Arab lands. In the summer of 1915, the notorious court martial formed in Aley (today’s Aliye in Lebanon) passed a sentence of capital punishment on the Arab nationalists. Djemal Pasha immediately approved the verdict and insisted that the executions be carried out at once.12 Eleven Arab notables were hanged in Beirut on 21 August. Five weeks later, on 27 September, the Arab literati were put on a train in Aleppo and dispatched to Istanbul. Perhaps the “spirit of times” had frightened the members of the group and forced them to accept the invitation to take the trip. As M. Talha Çiçek underlines in his recent work, they probably wanted to “pledge the loyalty of Syria to the caliph and to explain [that] everything was fine in Syria.”13 In the memoir by Muhammad Kurd Ali, who was in the group, Djemal Pasha’s motives were as follows: Djemal Pasha wanted the group to witness the scenes that would display the grandeur of the state and then transmit this to the Syrians on their return. However, his real motive in sending this group to was to force them to praise his accomplishments in [Syria] before the statesmen [in Istanbul]. His position [in Syria] was shaky, and through this he wanted to strengthen it.14

64  Ayhan Aktar Djemal Pasha’s humiliation in the Egyptian campaign might have been an important reason for the “shakiness of his position” in Syria. The first wave of executions probably related to his failure against British forces defending the Suez Canal. Historians such as Sulayman Mousa argued that Djemal Pasha “returned to Damascus and began to seek a pretext for his failure. It dawned upon him that his best chance lay in levelling accusations against Arab political and cultural leaders.”15 The group of Syrian literati was composed of thirty-one persons from different social and vocational factions from across Greater Syria. There were religious dignitaries, journalists, prominent intellectuals, and local notables, all of whom Djemal Pasha considered instrumental for propaganda purposes. The participants were •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• ••

Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi from Akka, mufti of the Fourth Army Sheikh Abd al-Qarim Avida from Tripoli Sheikh Abd al-Qadir al-Khatib Sheikh and poet Salim al-Ya’qubi from Jaffa Sheikh Badr al-Din al-Naasani from Aleppo Sheikh Habib al-Ubaydi, mufti of Mosul Sheikh Ibrahim al-Akki from Akka Sheikh Taj al-Din al-Hasani Arif Efendi, mufti of Aintab Abu al-Khayr Abidin, mufti of Damascus Mustafa Naja, mufti of Beirut Mustafa Salih al-Ubaysi, mufti of Aleppo Taher Abu al-Suud, mufti of Jerusalem Tawfiq al-Atasi, mufti of Hama Abd al-Rahman [Yusuf] al Haj from Nablus Abd al-Ghaffar Taki al-Din from Mount Lebanon Abd al-Latif al-Haznedar from Aleppo Abd al-Muhsin al-Ustuvani from Damascus Abd al-Rahman Aziz from Akka Ahmad al-Gilani from Hama Ata al-Ajlani from Damascus Muhammad al-Halabi from Hauran Muhammad al-Zabi from Hauran Muhammad Murad Effendi from Haifa Muhammad Rıfat al-Tuffaha, Naqib al-Ashraf from Nablus Muhasin al-Azhari from Latakia Sheikh Ali al-Rimawi from Jerusalem, first the editor of Al-Quds al-Sharif (the official Gazette in Palestine) and later editor of al-Najah Muhammad Kurd Ali, editor of al-Muqtabas, published in Damascus Muhammad al-Baqir, editor of al-Balagh; published in Beirut Abd al-Basit al-Unsi, editor of al-Iqbal Hussein al-Habbal, editor of Ebabil.16

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  65 To begin with, it is necessary to underline that prominent personalities from all the major urban centers of the province of Greater Syria––Damascus, Jerusalem, Beirut, Aleppo, Jaffa, Nablus, Haifa, Tripoli, Akka, Latakia, Hauran, Hama, Aintab, and even Mosul––were carefully represented.17 In other words, the horizontal or geographical representation of Arab cities within the group was observed quite carefully. Secondly, out of these thirty-one participants, fifteen were religious dignitaries, muftis, preachers, and influential sheikhs. The backbone of the group, these men were thought to be instrumental in shaping the opinions of the Arab masses through their Friday sermons. Thirdly, well-known journalists and editors of Arabic dailies were included as possibly being useful for influencing the attitudes of urban elites towards the CUP and its policies. As Salim Tamari has underlined, The purpose of the expedition, according to the authors of the mission’s report, was to examine at first hand the course of the military operations in Çanakkale [Gallipoli], mobilize support for the Ottoman war effort in the Arab provinces of the sultanate, and strengthen Arab–Turkish solidarity. The last objective was an obvious reference to the rising tide of Arab separatist movements.18 The extensive report about the visit, entitled “The Scientific Expedition to the Seat of the Caliphate” [al-Bi‘thah al-‘ilmīyah ilá dār al-khilāfah al-Islāmīyah], was published in 1916 in Beirut and was written by four journalists: Muhammad Kurd Ali, editor of al-Muqtabas daily in Damascus; Muhammad al-Baqir, editor of alBalagh in Beirut; Abd al-Basit al-Unsi, editor of al-Iqbal; and Hussein al-Habbal, editor of Ebabil. From the memoirs of Izzat Darwazeh, a post office clerk from Nablus, we learn that local Arab newspapers gave good coverage to the activities of the Syrian literati during their tour, both in Istanbul and, later, in Gallipoli.19 On their return to Syria, some members of the group gave public speeches to select audiences. For instance, Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi, the leader of the Syrian literati, gave a public speech at a movie theatre in Damascus that was interestingly called “Cinema Çanakkale” [Gallipoli]. The theatre was full of influential people, including Djemal Pasha, the governor of Mount Lebanon Ali Munif Bey, the governor of Syria Azmi Bey, the governor of Jerusalem Midhad Bey, and many other high-level Ottoman officials. In his speech, delivered in Turkish, Sheikh al-Shukairi preached the Syrian-Palestinian interests in supporting the Ottoman war effort and in defending the sultanate from collapse at Gallipoli. As Salim Tamari has underlined, among the audience there were also Prince Faisal, the son of Sherif Hussein bin Faisal, Amir of Mecca. This was on the eve of his father’s armed uprising against the Ottomans in 1916.20

Inbuilt skepticism of the CUP bureaucracy: beware! Arabs are coming! The summer of 1915 had been quite busy in terms of propaganda visits by civilians to Gallipoli. As early as June 1915, the Ottoman General Headquarters’ Section of

66  Ayhan Aktar Military Intelligence, which was also in charge of implementing censorship in the Istanbul press and publishing war communiqués for the Ottoman public, officially invited prominent Ottoman intellectuals—artists, novelists, journalists, and musicians—to visit Gallipoli. Erol Köroğlu describes the purpose of that visit, which kicked off on 11 July 1915, as follows: “The participants were invited to see the battlefront for themselves and to use their impressions to create works of art, which would be real descriptions concerning the quality of the soldiers and the ability of the population.”21 Although this group as a whole did not publish much straightaway, one prominent member who was a staunch Turkish nationalist, Hamdullah Suphi Bey (later Tanrıöver), published his propaganda pieces about Gallipoli in the Istanbul daily İkdam between 28 July and 10 August 1915.22 News relating to the visit of the Istanbul literati to Gallipoli was also published in Türk Yurdu on 29 July.23 It is very likely that, during late July and early August 1915, Djemal Pasha and his staff in Syria read about the tour of the Istanbul literati. They might have been influenced by this clever move and so wanted to repeat the same with the Arab literati. We know that there was an exchange of correspondence between Djemal Pasha and Enver Pasha at the Ottoman GHQ over the details of the proposed tour. Naturally, without permission from Enver Pasha, this expedition could not have taken place. Unfortunately this correspondence, in the Turkish Military Archives in Ankara (ATASE), is not available to researchers. Nevertheless, documents at the Ottoman Archives in Istanbul illustrate vividly the suspicions of the Ottoman civilian bureaucracy over the propaganda tour; they also give an insight into the clashes between the CUP’s various factions. The first extensive ciphered telegram, dated 19 August 1915, was a “top secret” warning from the governor of Syria, Hulusi Bey, to the Minister of the Interior, Talat Bey, regarding the activities of prominent Arabs who were later to be included in the Syrian literati. In fact, it was an extensive reply to an inquiry dated 16 August from Talat Bey requesting information about the Arab notables Shakib Arslan, Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi, and Abd al-Rahman Yusuf Bey. It is interesting to note that, just few days before the execution of the Arab nationalists in Beirut on 21 August, the visit of Syrian literati was probably discussed in the Fourth Army Headquarters of Syria, and the government circles in Istanbul had already been informed about it. Otherwise we cannot explain why the Minister of the Interior in Istanbul was unexpectedly inquiring about these three individuals, two of whom would be invited on the tour. Hulusi Bey’s long dispatch reveals the clear mistrust and extreme skepticism towards the Arab elite operating around the circle of power with Djemal Pasha at its center. According to Hulusi Bey, Shakib Arslan, a Druse notable from Lebanon, was a typical political power-broker: “By pretending to be loyal to the CUP and being against the Entente powers, he was trying to get appointed as the governor of Mount Lebanon.” Hulusi Bey had also warned Talat Bey, “Although I feel that Enver Pasha and the governor of Lebanon, Ali Munif [later Yeğenağa] Bey, had favourable inclinations towards this person, future events will prove that they were wrong.” For Hulusi Bey, Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi was “the personification of the devil in the form of a human being.” He could utilize his logical reasoning and vast

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  67 knowledge for whatever endeavours he chose, whether good or evil. Hulusi Bey finally argued that Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi was “totally dishonest and full of hatred and conspiracy against whoever had ever harmed his interests.”24 From this long telegram, we learn that Abd al-Rahman Yusuf Bey was “undesirable” from the point of view of the Ottoman bureaucracy. As to Muhammad Kurd Ali, he stated that he was the owner of al-Muqtabas newspaper and a member of “el-Beşibbetü’l-Arabiye,” an association formed after the 1908 Revolution. No doubt Hulusi Bey wanted to emphasize Kurd Ali’s presumably “Arabist” pre-war political tendencies.25 Hulusi Bey’s main argument was as follows: “Nobody can doubt Djemal Pasha’s patriotism. However, he is a megalomaniac. He is addicted to the illness of propaganda and the urge to be celebrated [all the time].” Hulusi Bey maintained that these Arab conspirators had discovered this weakness in Djemal Pasha and were congregating around him on every occasion. In their papers, they published articles praising and glorifying Djemal Pasha and his accomplishments. Through this, they were able to develop their mission as “power-brokers” by exerting influence over him.26 Naturally, they were able to use the Ottoman administration in Syria to their own benefit. It is interesting to note that the tone of this telegram shows the tensions between the cliques within the CUP triumvirate. Hulusi Bey must have been close to Talat Bey and was probably spying on Djemal Pasha on behalf of the Minister of the Interior. Or else he was trying to provoke already existing fears and distrust in Talat Bey towards the Arab elite in Syria or the nationalities in general. On 11 September 1915, Djemal Pasha cabled a ciphered note to Talat Bey informing him about the Syrian literati’s visit to Istanbul and Gallipoli. Djemal Pasha underlined the fact that he had proposed to the Minister of War, Enver Pasha, that a group of religious dignitaries from Syria and Palestine be sent to Gallipoli and had obtained his permission. On their return, he argued, this group would publish their observations in printed form and organize public meetings in order to transmit their experiences among the people in the region. Djemal Pasha explained the significance of the propaganda tour and informed Talat Bey that they were going to present a special letter to him. In his telegram, Djemal Pasha summarized his intentions quite clearly: Because of their social standing and influence among both the elite and the popular masses, the religious dignitaries put together in this group represent all of Syria and Palestine. In regard to the immediate situation [in the region], their favorable treatment in Istanbul will generate an extremely desirable impact on the psychological condition of all of Syria and Palestine . . . It is very important to show them more than the usual respect, a warm reception, and to organize extravagant dinners for them while they are in Istanbul. By doing so, they will return to the region with [good] impressions. Especially when they visit the Central Committee [of the CUP], it will be very important to accept them with an exclusive and even exaggerated reception. By doing so, [we should] try to connect their hearts to the organization. This is very important for the future of [the present CUP] government in Syria and Mount Lebanon.27

68  Ayhan Aktar More than two weeks later, Hulusi Bey, then governor of Syria, reported to Talat Bey that the Syrian group, composed of thirty-one persons, had departed from Aleppo en route to Istanbul. In his telegram dated 27 September, Hulusi Bey could not resist being sarcastic about the motivations of the group, stating, “as if the above-mentioned group had been appointed to convey the regards and reverences of [the people of] Palestine and Syria to the armies at Gallipoli.” It was quite clear to him from the outset that there was nothing sincere or authentic in the Syrians’ visit. Obviously, like many other Turkish nationalists congregated in the CUP, Hulusi Bey did not trust any of the Arab notables. Hulusi Bey especially warned Talat Bey about a letter prepared by the Syrian literati for Enver Pasha in which they had conveyed their wish to obtain a special reception from Sultan Mehmed Reshad. He underlined that such a reception could be utilized by the Arab notables in the future for their personal benefit. He warned his minister that this would be incompatible with the reputation, glory, and sacred state of the caliphate. Also, rumours might spread about the CUP government’s inability to handle the matter properly. Hulusi Bey recommended that his minister prevent this reception and keep the Syrian literati under permanent surveillance while they were in Istanbul and Gallipoli.28

The Syrian literati go to Istanbul In spite of all this adverse and rather distracting background, the Syrian literati congregated in Aleppo and left for Istanbul via Pozanti, their train tickets paid for by the Ottoman treasury.29 Given wartime conditions, it took them more than nine days to reach Istanbul. They arrived at Haydarpaşa train station on the Anatolian side of Istanbul on 7 October to a special welcoming ceremony arranged by the authorities. After the ceremony, they moved to Şahin Paşa Hotel in Sirkeci in the European part of the city. The group’s trip to Istanbul was designed meticulously, and they were given a tiring program described in an itinerary of four pages. The CUP government appointed eight high-level officials to escort them:30 •• •• •• •• •• •• •• ••

Lieutenant Colonel Cevad Bey, head of the escort committee, CO of Istanbul Army HQ Captain Tawfiq Bey, deputy head, staff officer at Istanbul Army HQ Lieutenant Ahmet Muhtar Efendi, representative of the Ottoman GHQ Uryanizade Ali Vahid Efendi, interpreter in Arabic, office of Sheikh al-Islam Dr. Fuat, representative of the Ministry of the Interior Nesimi Sarim Bey, representative of the CUP Central Committee Raif Bey, Beyazıt District Chief, Istanbul Police HQ Djemal Bey, head of Political Section, Istanbul Police HQ.

It is interesting to note that the escort committee included three officers and two policemen. Obviously, the CUP government wanted to keep an eye on the Arab notables. Despite being very tightly controlled, the Syrian literati received

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  69 excellent treatment during their stay in Istanbul. Regardless of Hulusi Bey’s attempts at obstruction, Sultan Mehmed Reshad and Crown Prince Yusuf Izzeddin Efendi granted them an imperial reception, as Djemal Pasha had suggested in his telegram. They were also invited to the CUP Central Committee and received a cordial welcome from the party elite. They had the chance to meet Enver Pasha, Grand Vizier Said Halim Pasha, and other high-level CUP officials. The group also visited military workshops and the Ottoman Admiralty on a very special occasion. On 30 October, a French submarine, Turquoise, had been hit by Turkish artillery and had beached at the Dardanelles. It was quickly repaired by navy mechanics and renamed Müstecip Onbaşı, after the Ottoman corporal instrumental in targeting it. According to Ikdam daily, a special ceremony was held on 10 November 1915 at the Ottoman Admiralty by the Golden Horn attended by Minister of War Enver Pasha, German Vice Admiral Wilhelm Souchon, the top brass of the Ottoman military, and prominent journalists. After prayers recited by a religious dignitary, who blessed the submarine, a parade of Ottoman and German marines took place. Ikdam mentions that among these distinguished guests there were also members of the Syrian literati.31 It is very likely that the Arab elite were not perceived as trusted and reliable in regard to political matters. However, the Ottoman bureaucracy did its best to impress them by pretending they truly believed in “Arab–Turkish friendship,” solidarity, and Islamic brotherhood. One of the authors of the report published in 1916, Muhammad Kurd Ali, wrote the following: Our Syrian-Palestinian delegation was treated [in Anatolia] to an Ottoman generosity, an Eastern hospitality, and Islamic brotherhood, which attest to the mutual love and loyalty between Turks and Arabs––the two greatest components and intellectually advanced segments of the state.32 In the report, Kurd Ali claimed that, in matters of religion, Muslim Turks were fascinated by Arab culture. The Arabs were perceived as the source of “blessedness and holiness.” Kurd Ali stated the following: “Educated Turks are curious about the current conditions of the Arab lands, while traditional people ask about the past.”33 The tour of the Syrian literati lasted about two months. On their return from Gallipoli to Istanbul they were awarded special medals of merit. In addition to those, Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi and Abu al-Khayr Abidin [abu Neccar] Efendi, the mufti of Damascus, received Ottoman gold merit medals34 and the editor of Ebabil, Hussein al-Habbal, received an Ottoman silver merit medal.35 However, ten days later we read in Takvim-i Vakayi (the Ottoman official gazette) that all members of the Syrian literati received silver merit medals.36 It seems that the CUP elite distributed the gifts evenly, so every member of the group was honored. All members had also received a golden watch as a gift and, furthermore, the journalists had been awarded 100 Ottoman Liras as a contribution to their journalistic efforts in the coming months. Kurd Ali mentions that the financial subsidies made some religious dignitaries so jealous that they were ready to shave their beards and get rid of their turbans in order to receive similar benefits.37

70  Ayhan Aktar In all likelihood in order to reciprocate the generosity of the Ottoman bureaucracy, the Syrians praised the architect of the expedition and their protector, Djemal Pasha, at every opportunity. They were not only expected to counter the British propaganda at Gallipoli but they felt it necessary to polish the image of their benefactor in Istanbul. After the executions of the eleven Arab notables in Beirut, just a few weeks before their departure, they must have felt that their lives were in the hands of Djemal Pasha. The Syrian literati had several missions during the propaganda tour. They were first responsible to the uneducated Arab public. Religious dignitaries, journalists, and notables had to glorify the Ottoman war effort and to highlight the unity of Arabs and Turks by utilizing the Islamic rhetoric of Holy War [Cihad-ı Mukaddes] during their visit––themes they would have to repeat more empathetically upon their return to Syria. Their second responsibility was towards Djemal Pasha personally: while in Istanbul, the centre of CUP power, they had to honor him and celebrate his so-called reforms in the Arab lands. All high-level CUP officials and the other two members of the triumvirate, Enver Pasha and Talat Bey, were carefully observing the group. They had to show their gratitude to Djemal Pasha and the CUP elite at the same time. Salim Tamari summarizes the sections of the 1916 report, illustrating the rhetoric especially adopted by the Syrian literati during their visit to Ottoman Admiralty on 10 November 1915 in the Golden Horn: The visit of the expedition to the Ministry of the Navy in the capital was an occasion to sing the praises of Djemal Pasha. . . . Djemal is compared here to Sultan Salah al-Din, who delivered Jerusalem from the Crusaders, in the same manner that Djemal would liberate Egypt from the imperialist yoke. . . . The report reads like a hagiographic account of the future leader of the Ottoman state. Djemal’s historical achievements are discussed in terms of his political acumen, his military skills as a commander-strategist, his public works, and especially his educational reforms. . . . He created a new patriotism, bringing together Turks and Arabs. His weekly councils in Damascus and Jerusalem ensured an open forum for the grievances of the public, without any mediation.The CUP administration modernized and transformed the face of Syria through Djemal’s public works. It established a modern system of railroads, which extended the Istanbul–Damascus network to Haifa, Jerusalem, Jaffa, Beershiba and Medina. It paved thousands of roads, linking the rural areas to provincial centers and Syrian districts to Anatolia.38 We should also keep in mind that this report was written in 1916, probably after a second wave of executions had taken place in Damascus and Beirut, where a further twenty-one Arab nationalists were hanged on 6 May 1916. Kurd Ali and other authors of the report must have been very stressed to see their friends and acquaintances put to death. Nearly a month later, on 10 June, Sherif Hussein, the Amir of Mecca, organized an armed uprising in Hijaz against Ottoman rule over the Arab lands. This must have made matters more complicated for the Syrian literati in terms of writing the final report. They had to defend the rule of Djemal Pasha in Syria more forcefully than ever.

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  71

Syrian literati at Gallipoli: account of Uryanizade Ali Vahid Effendi After spending ten days in Istanbul with a busy program, the group took a special boat and sailed first to Tekirdağ, where they spent the night. The next day, 18 October 1915, they landed at the port of Akbaş,39 the major landing point run by the military at the Dardanelles. We know about the activities of the Syrian literati in Gallipoli because their interpreter, Uryanizade Ali Vahid Effendi (1879–1940), also published a memoir in early 1916.40 The short pamphlet was designed as propaganda material to praise the heroism of the soldiers and glorify the CUP’s military dictatorship in general, but it gives a fairly good account of the activities of the Syrian literati. According to Ali Vahid’s account, the group arrived at Gallipoli one day before the Sacrifice Feast [Kurban Bayramı]. They were taken to the GHQ of the Ottoman Fifth Army and were welcomed by Liman von Sanders Pasha. On the same evening, Liman Pasha and his staff organized a dinner in honor of their guests. It was probably there that they received the special medals designed for those who fought on the Gallipoli front seen worn by Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi in Figure 3.1. Ali Vahid Effendi was extremely impressed with the quality of the

Figure 3.1  Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi with his Ottoman war (Gallipoli) medal.

72  Ayhan Aktar food and the accommodation provided by the Fifth Army. He confessed that he had expected to stay in the army barracks, but they were given brand new blankets and proper beds. This was far beyond their expectations. The next morning, 19 October 1915, the literati woke up early with the call to prayer [ezan] for the special morning prayer of the Sacrifice Feast [Bayram Namazı]. Sheikh Abdal-Qarim Avida from Tripoli conducted the religious ceremony. Ali Vahid Effendi praised his sermon and argued that “it was one of the best sermons that I heard in the Islamic world. He said whatever was necessary to say in the way that it had to be said. He did his duty in impeccable style.”41 After the ceremony, the soldiers, the officers, and the Syrian literati joyfully congratulated each other on the occasion of the holy bayram. Ali Vahid Effendi had mentioned in his essay that the Syrian literati were supposed to write their observations and publish them in Arabic. At the beginning of his text, he paid tribute to the individuals in the group and especially praised Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi for his eloquent speeches. He thanked the military authorities repeatedly for giving them a warm reception at Gallipoli. He also added that, as an individual, his words reflected his personal impressions only. However, he stated the fact that, since the army had showed such generosity and were so welcoming, he had to express his gratitude. He could not disregard this favor and pass by in silence. Uryanizade Ali Vahid’s 36-page essay, entitled “My Feelings and Reminiscences at the Gallipoli Front” [Çanakkal’a Cephesi’nde Duyup Düşündüklerim], was published in Istanbul in 1916. For this pamphlet to have passed the military censorship during the war years, it must have contained some propaganda value for the Ottoman public. It was very probable that the Ottoman GHQ’s Military Intelligence section had commissioned Ali Vahid Efendi to write down his reminiscences and glorify the Ottoman war effort. On the cover of the pamphlet was a statement that the revenue raised from sales would be donated to the National Defence Society [Müdafaa-i Milliye Cemiyeti], which had been formed by the CUP during the Balkan Wars in order to raise money for the Ottoman war effort. During the war years, it operated as a paramilitary organization, preparing the masses for war, promoting national consciousness, and organizing a spirit of solidarity for soldiers’ families on the home front.42 The same day, the Syrian literati were taken to the Arıburnu section of the front. They visited the trenches, then returned to their residence. On the following day, 20 October, they visited the military hospital where wounded soldiers were treated, some of whom were from Arab lands. The mufti of Beirut, Mustafa Naja Efendi, spoke to a soldier from Beirut who had lost his leg. Mustafa Naja Efendi embraced the soldier and added that he and the people of Beirut were proud of him. On their return, the officers arranged some machine-gun practice for the soldiers going to the trenches. When the machine-gun fire stopped, Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi prayed for them, and the other members of the literati, including the officers, said amen together. After all these blessings, the battalion marched towards the trenches. These two incidents show that the Syrian literati’s visit to the Gallipoli front was seen by Liman von Sanders Pasha and his staff as an

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  73 opportunity to increase the soldiers’ morale. No doubt their visit also contributed to strengthening the religious convictions of ordinary soldiers and officers.

“Undesirable” Arab soldiers of the “Aleppo Division” of Colonel Mustafa Kemal One of the problematic issues in modern Turkish historiography is the “Turkification” of Ottoman history. Nationalist historians of the republican period consistently tried to present the Ottomans as ethnic Turks. Modern Turkish national identity, which was constructed after the Balkan Wars and shaped during the early years of the Kemalist regime, is extended backwards in Turkish official historiography. Thus the Ottomans are integrated into the last few thousand years of Turkish history in an ostensibly seamless manner. As might be expected, the military history World War I was the epicenter of this “Turkification” process. The Ottoman Imperial Army [Osmanlı Ordu-yi Hümâyûnu] was converted by military historians into the Turkish Army [Türk Ordusu]; hence, other ethnic groups, such as Kurds, Arabs, Circassians, Albanians, and Georgians, together with religious minorities, such as Greeks, Armenians, and Jews, who were drafted into the army and fought, were either hardly mentioned or treated as non-existent. Retired US Army officer Edward J. Erickson, a military historian repeating the Turkish official line, argues the following in the preface to one of his publications: This book is about the Turkish Army, although it carries the title A History of the Ottoman Army in the First World War. Indeed, going back to that war the British, their most relentless adversary, always seemed to fight the Turks, not the Ottomans. British histories, as well as Australian, the New Zealander, and French, portray the enemy as the Turk or even as “Johnny Turk.” This was partly due to the popular usage of the time, but in reality the term very accurately reflected the character of that army. Although it is true that the Ottoman Empire still existed as a legal entity and furthermore that many subject peoples, such as Arabs and Kurds, served in the army, the essence of the army was Turkish. Whenever the army got right down to the terrible matter of dying in the trenches it was usually the Turkish soldier (Askers in Turkish) that accomplished the deed. Therefore, in this book, the term Turkish Army is used instead of the more proper term Ottoman Army, and associated terms such as the Turkish General Staff are used nominally.43 I do not wish to comment here on the superficiality of this argument, but suffice it to say that, during the war, the Ottoman chief of staff in Istanbul was a German officer, Fritz Bronsart von Schellendorf Pasha; the commander of the Fifth Army, which defended the Dardanelles, was Liman von Sanders Pasha, whose staff officer, Lieutenant Colonel Kâzım (later İnanç), was a Kurd from Diyarbakır; and, finally, the commander of the Third Army Corps that defended the Gallipoli peninsula was Esat (later Bülkat) Pasha, an Albanian from Yanina––not one of them an ethnic Turk.

74  Ayhan Aktar At the level of the ordinary soldier, the Ottoman system of conscription deserves special attention. It was shaped by the law passed in 1909 and was based upon regional drafting.44 For instance, all males drafted from the Aleppo region of Syria were put into the same regiment and fought as “comrades in arms.” In this respect, Colonel Mustafa Kemal’s famous 19th Division—the one that stopped the ANZACs after their landing on 25 April—had three infantry regiments: the 57th, the 72nd, and the 77th. The 72nd and the 77th were composed of young men drafted from the Aleppo region. Interestingly, among the officers in Gallipoli the 19th Division was known as the “Aleppo Division” [Halep Fırkası]. Now let us summarize what Edward J. Erickson has written about the Arab regiments of the “Aleppo Division” in his second book. The 77th Infantry Regiment was mobilized in Aleppo and ordered to transfer to Istanbul, where it arrived on 13 September 1914. In a special ceremony attended by Enver and Djemal Pashas, the regiment received its colors at Çatalca. Because of the Arab soldiers who did not speak Turkish, the ceremony was simultaneously translated into Arabic. During the next few months the regiment was busy with field training and in maneuvers, and on 23 February 1915 it left for Gallipoli front. Two days later it came under Mustafa Kemal’s command as part of the famous 19th Division.45 Lieutenant Colonel Fahrettin (later Altay), the chief staff officer of the Third Army Corps, which was in charge of the Gallipoli peninsula defenses, mentions how he met Lieutenant Colonel Mustafa Kemal for the first time on his way to the 19th Division’s HQ in February 1915. Two days later, Fahrettin Bey received a telephone call from Mustafa Kemal asking the following favor in a hasty manner: Please, Sir, we must ask [a favor] from the Commander Pasha [the Minister of War, Enver Pasha]: The regiments numbered 72 and 77 that were given under my command are all Arabs. Some of them are Yezidi and Nusayri, who are against the war. Their [military] training is also limited. Let him take these [regiments] back and return my two previous regiments that were composed of genuinely Turkish boys [halis Türk delikanlıları].46 Fahrettin Bey’s remarks are quite meaningful in relation to this request: “we were amazed how these worthless soldiers [kıymetsiz askerler] were posted to a dangerous war zone. We wrote to the Commander in Chief [in Istanbul] and received the following answer: [Soldiers] cannot be exchanged now. They should work hard and complete their [military] training.”47 Unfortunately, Mustafa Kemal’s expectations regarding his Aleppo boys proved correct. These so-called worthless Arab soldiers of the 72nd and 77th Regiments performed very poorly on the terrible days of 25 and 26 April while the 19th Division was trying to stop the allied landing and their advance to the northern shores of the Gallipoli peninsula. In his later book, Edward J. Erickson puts forth a more balanced argument on this matter and tries to explain the structural characteristics behind the panic and total failure of the Arab soldiers:

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  75 It should be noted that the Turkish official military history of this campaign does not mention ethnicity as a factor affecting operations. However, the memoirs of the key officers of the Turkish III Corps command team contain a variety of criticisms regarding the “Arab” regiments. III Corps chief of staff Fahrettin noted that the 72nd and 77th Infantry Regiments received a minimum of training . . . Esat [Pasha] noted the same and also noted that the regiments were prone to panic. Mustafa Kemal mentioned that the 77th Infantry Regiment made many operational mistakes . . . Unquestionably, many soldiers in this regiment could not speak Ottoman Turkish and this would have had a most serious impact as the regiment launched hasty operations. (The movement to contact resulted in day and night bayonet attacks on 25 April.)48 Indeed, Major İzzeddin Bey (later Çalışlar), who was Mustafa Kemal’s chief staff officer during the ANZAC landing, tells the sad story of panicked Arab soldiers in his war diary. His entry for 26 April reads as follows: “We are busy putting together the 77th Regiment that was scattered in the first day of the battle.” Three days later he recorded the following incident: “125th Regiment came to us [as reinforcements]. In front of this regiment, three deserters from the 77th Regiment were shot to death.”49 In spite of the fact that these Arab soldiers were terrified during the first days of the battle and sustained casualties, those who survived probably learned to fight and excelled in subsequent engagements. Sad to say, they paid dearly for their inexperience. According to the official Turkish history, the 77th Regiment’s casualties were around 700 during the first two days of the battle.50 Again, Esad Pasha mentions in his unpublished memoirs that the total number of casualties (dead, wounded, missing, and captured) between 25 April and 13 May was 4,641 soldiers and officers.51 There is no doubt that the Gallipoli front turn out to be a bloodbath for young men from every ethnic and religious group of Ottoman society. The same can be said for the young lads on the other side of the trenches.52

The Syrian literati visit Colonel Mustafa Kemal’s “Aleppo Division” On 20 October 1915, Major İzzeddin Bey entered a note in his diary: “We were busy with preparations for the visit of the Syrian literati tomorrow.” The following entry was recorded the day after: The weather is very good. I went as far as Kumköy with my car to welcome the Syrian literati. I said welcome to Asad al-Shukairi, the leader of the group. A great official ceremony was put together for them. We greeted them with a company of cavalry first and the whole 26th Infantry Division was standing between Kumköy and our HQ. They gave advice to the soldiers and recited poems praising the commander [Mustafa Kemal] in Arabic. All of them were good orators indeed. They went up the hill by the 59th Regiment and observed the battlefields. Later, we had a meal together. After the meal they were divided into smaller groups and visited different sections of the front.53

76  Ayhan Aktar It is interesting to note that the Syrian literati had also brought a delightful present for the officer corps of the “Aleppo Division”: they generously presented the officers with trays of dried baklava––still a speciality of Syrian cuisine today. One of the officers, Lieutenant Mehmet Fasih Efendi, noted the following in his war dairy on 21 October: “The Syrian literati visited the regiment and they brought us baklava from Damascus. We had a slice.”54 How could he forget the taste of a slice of dried baklava kindly brought all the way from Syria to Gallipoli during wartime? October 21 must have been a very special day for Uryanizade Ali Vahid Efendi as well. He narrated the literati’s visit to the “Aleppo Division” in a very enthusiastic manner. Firstly, he was extremely impressed with the welcoming ceremony, which was also described by Major İzzeddin Bey. Moreover, he was mesmerized by the address to the soldiers by the mufti of Beirut, Mustafa Naja Efendi, which was later translated into Turkish and published in December 1915 in the Islamist periodical Sebîllürreşad.55 Supporting his argument with the Holy Qur’an, Mustafa Naja Efendi glorified the vital military mission fulfilled by the soldiers and officers at Gallipoli, who were defending the caliphate, the throne, and, finally, the whole Islamic world. He stressed the importance of Holy War [Cihad-ı Mukaddes] and promised that the soldiers who lost their lives would secure their place in the heavens. After this speech, Mustafa Salih al-Ubaysi, the mufti of Aleppo, recited prayers. Mustafa Naja Efendi’s speech must have motivated the soldiers deeply. Later in the afternoon, a Sergeant Arif from Aleppo addressed the group: Gentlemen, say the following words to your wives and children when you go back to Syria: we shall never go back home unless we remove the body of the enemy from these sacred lands. On behalf of my comrades in arms, I also kindly ask you to say this to our people back home.56 After Mustafa Naja Efendi’s speech, Colonel Mustafa Kemal Bey escorted the group to a hill, whence they could have a general view of the front and observe the battlefields through binoculars.57 He described the allied landing in detail and explained the heroic resistance of the Ottoman Army. He recounted the counterattacks he had organized and other interesting scenes from the war. On their return to the headquarters of the Anafartalar group of regiments, they had a delightful lunch. Afterwards, prominent members of the group, starting with Sheikh Ali alRimawi from Jerusalem, recited poems to praise Colonel Mustafa Kemal Bey and his glories. Muhammad al-Halabi, Hussein al-Habbal, Arif Efendi, Sheikh Abd al-Qarim Avida, Sheikh Salim al-Ya’qubi, Tawfik al-Atasi, Muhammad Rıfat alTuffaha, and Abd al-Rahman Aziz gave speeches one after the other. In addition, Sheikh Bedr al-Din al-Naasani of Aleppo recited a qasidah especially written for Mustafa Kemal. Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi translated it from Arabic to Turkish.58 In short, the members of the Syrian literati expressed their admiration to the victorious commander of the Anafartalar group. Uryanizade Ali Vahid Efendi’s description of this session is worth quoting:

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  77

Figure 3.2 Colonel Mustafa Kemal briefing the Syrian literati about the war on a hill at Gallipoli.

All Muslims and our allies are grateful to Mustafa Kemal Bey, who is a miraculous commander and the hero of [the Anafartalar] group. Mustafa Kemal Bey saved the Dardanelles from great danger by taking necessary [military] precautions and organizing an attack at the most critical time at Anafartalar. [Our group] was already infatuated with this noble person before meeting him. When this acclaimed person came into their sight with all his perfection, they were all transformed into a bunch of nightingales and started to sing. Each one of them expressed their sentiments in a different manner. Mustafa Kemal Bey also reciprocated by expressing his feelings, and through this he completely captivated them.59 After these speeches and poems, the guests separated into six small groups and were escorted by staff officers to the front. They wanted to visit the trenches in order to meet some of the Arab soldiers from Syria and Palestine.

A very cruel joke on Asad al-Shukairi and his friends Colonel Mustafa Kemal’s aide-de-camp at Gallipoli was First Lieutenant Cevat Abbas Bey (later Gürer). He was very fond of his commander, whom he followed until Mustafa Kemal Atatürk’s death in 1938. Afterwards, Cevat Abbas published his memoirs in serial form in the daily newspaper Yeni Sabah. His description of the visit of the Syrian literati, which appeared on 6 April 1941, was later issued in book form.60

78  Ayhan Aktar

Figure 3.3  Members of the group voicing their respects to Colonel Mustafa Kemal.

Cevat Abbas Bey stated that the Syrians’ visit had been organized thanks to Djemal Pasha’s initiative. They had wanted to greet the Syrian soldiers scattered along the front. He summarized the trip as follows: “In short, Syrians will see Syrians.”61 He then moved to the content of Mustafa Kemal’s reciprocating speech to the literati by revealing the following: Since his days as a staff captain [in Damascus in 1905], my great commander [Mustafa Kemal] already knew that Syrians had the ideal of breaking away from imperial Turkey. Having this in mind, in his speech Mustafa Kemal repeated the necessity of being united and the unbeatable power acquired by acting together. He also expressed his approval that Syrians were fighting side by side with their Turkish brothers.62 We must underline the fact that these lines were first written in 1941. It is very likely that, at that time, Cevat Abbas Bey still harbored bitter feelings about the collapse of the Palestinian front in September 1918 which had resulted in a catastrophic defeat for the Ottoman forces. It is conceivable that he felt contempt towards Arabs, as did many other educated Turks as a result of the 1916 Arab revolt. This event continues to be remembered in Turkey even today in the cliché “the Arabs stabbed us in the back.” However, Cevat Abbas’s presentation of Mustafa Kemal’s speech shows the latter’s nationalist and anti-Arab attitude, and the cruel joke later played on Asad al-Shukairi leads us to believe that both nationalist officers had very low opinions of the Arabs as early as October 1915.

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  79 After their meal, Mustafa Kemal appointed a staff officer to each group. Asad al-Shukairi and a few other Arab notables were assigned to Cevat Abbas Bey. While giving the order to take them to the front, Mustafa Kemal winked at his aide-de-camp. Cevat Abbas understood the message immediately, correctly interpreting that his commander wanted him to take Asad al-Shukairi to a risky part of the battlefield that would be exposed to British navy artillery. He took them to Kavaktepe Hill (Hill 900 in British military accounts), which also provided them with a panoramic view of front. While he was briefing Asad al-Shukairi and his friends about the war, a British reconnaissance plane passed just above them. Cevat Abbas described the moment sarcastically by underlining his party’s oriental dresses: “our group with long hair and beards, carrying white turbans and colourful attire, must have drawn the attention of the enemy.” As he had expected, the airplane alerted the British navy artillery, which started bombing the hill only ten minutes later. Cevat Abbas went on as follows: Dignitaries in the group became alarmed and panicked as the result of violent explosions, followed by the whistling sound of shrapnel flying through the air. That was something they had neither experienced nor even imagined. Immediately they turned pale. Instinctively they looked to the horses . . . When they pronounced the word yallah, the second wave of bombardment had already started, and this time the shrapnel was coming pretty close. It was looking for the man whose number was up.63 With a straight face, he asked Asad al-Shukairi, “Sir, aren’t we going to visit our children? My duty is to take this esteemed group of yours to the boys [from Aleppo/Syria].” Terrified, Asad al-Shukairi answered back, “Sir, we have seen enough and are already enlightened. Let us leave the rest in the hands of the experts.” Cevat Abbas adds mockingly, “While Asad al-Shukairi was saying this, he had already jumped on his horse and started riding towards the headquarters.” He finished his account by adding, “after our guests left, my commander [Mustafa Kemal] had a good laugh when I described to him how the code-word yallah [let’s go!] had had an accelerating effect on them.”64 The attitude of nationalist officers such as Mustafa Kemal and Cevat Abbas towards the members of the Syrian group requires an explanation. If we analyze the motives of the different political actors instrumental in organizing the literati’s visit to Istanbul, we need to make a differential analysis. Djemal Pasha and his staff officers in the Fourth Army perceived the trip from a practical point of view. Although his oppressive rule in Syria and Palestine was established, he also needed a group of local elites to help him win the uneducated popular masses to his side. On the one hand, he was relentlessly sending Arab nationalists to the gallows; on the other, he was trying to create a group of local notables who would feel that they were part of regime, who were loyal to the idea of Ottomanism, and who would hence maintain their collaboration with him. His letter to Talat Bey advising the CUP government to treat the Syrian literati in an exclusive and exaggerated manner was the proof his practical approach. As

80  Ayhan Aktar long as they collaborated with him, the “good Arabs” would enjoy high status, ostentatious admiration, and material benefits. Conversely, Governor Hulusi Bey did not trust the Arab elite at all. For him, they were a bunch of political “powerbrokers” close to Djemal Pasha and exploiting his megalomania and his need for admiration. Politically, Hulusi Bey would have preferred direct rule of the region by eliminating the intermediaries acting between the popular masses and the government. In that respect, he despised the circle of local notables around Djemal Pasha and their Byzantine maneuvers. Hulusi Bey’s Jacobin type of populism was incompatible with any sort of “clientelism” or political mediation that was widespread in Arab society in those days. The CUP elite in Istanbul probably shared Hulusi Bey’s skepticism in relation to the Syrian literati, but they were also closer to Djemal Pasha’s position as far as practical politics was concerned. There is no doubt that they would do anything possible to keep Syria and Palestine under Ottoman rule. In order to achieve this end, they acted within classical Ottoman political parameters of “Ottomanism.” While appointing three army officers and two police superintendents to escort the Syrian literati, they also pampered them with de luxe treatment, stately receptions, gold watches, and medals, and the journalists in the group each received 100 Liras in advance for their propaganda book to be published in 1916.65 The attitude of the commander of Fifth Army, Liman von Sanders, and his staff officers at Gallipoli was again shaped by the practical needs of the army. The visit of the Syrian literati was scheduled on the days of the Sacrifice Feast [Kurban Bayramı]. Having religious dignitaries around and asking for their blessings and prayers on such an occasion was extremely convenient in terms of increasing the morale of the soldiers on the front. The arrogant attitudes of Colonel Mustafa Kemal and Lieutenant Cevat Abbas were different from both that of Djemal Pasha and those of the CUP elite. From day one at the front, Mustafa Kemal had expressed his distrust of Arab soldiers and wanted them replaced with “genuinely Turkish” ones. Interestingly, the poor performance and later panic of the Arab soldiers during the first two days of the battle in April 1915 justified his prophecies on military grounds. However, his prejudices about the Arabs in general had not developed in 1915. As Cevat Abbas emphasized in his memoir, Mustafa Kemal had formed an opinion as early as 1907 that Arab elites had made up their minds to break away from the Ottoman Empire. For him, there was probably no difference at all between the decentralized administrative system of Greater Syria, which most of the Arab intellectuals advocated before the war, and complete independence. Having developed such political convictions, the nationalist officers at Gallipoli treated the Arab literati as a bunch of hypocrites making false compliments and reciting flattering poems. At the last instance, they were perceived as “Syrians” in strange oriental costumes. They might have been Ottoman citizens, but they belonged to the “other” end of the world. Therefore, they deserved to be terrified by the bombardment of British naval artillery and treated later as laughing stocks. Turkish nationalist officers probably shared Hulusi Bey’s skepticism and negative sentiments in relation to the Arab elite. However, they differed from the majority

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  81 of the CUP elite, who tried to develop practical methods to rule Syria and Palestine at all costs. Nationalist officers were absolutely certain that holding the Arab lands intact would not be feasible. It would have been extremely costly not only in monetary terms but also from a military standpoint in terms of manpower. Their crude and disinterested realism, which was stripped of Islamic sensitivities, probably led to a kind of apathy and a closing of shutters towards the Arab world in later years.66

Propaganda tour of the Syrian literati: a mission impossible The Syrian literati’s propaganda tour lasted about two months. The details of their visit were covered by local Arabic newspapers. On their return to Syria and Palestine, they organized public meetings in order to “enlighten” the Arab urban masses. At the end of 1916, they published their impressions in Beirut.67 However, the second wave of executions in Beirut and Damascus in May 1916 and the later armed uprising of Sherif Hussein bin Faisal, Amir of Mecca, in June had destroyed any kind of positive feelings that could have developed among the masses as a result of this propaganda trip. Furthermore, as the political situation became more hectic, Djemal Pasha’s pressures on the prominent members of the group increased, and they were forced to denounce the Arab nationalists. Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi, in particular, as a member of the ‘ulama and mufti of the Fourth Army, acquired a very bad reputation by issuing a fatwa in support of the hangings of Arab nationalists who were charged with subversion and treason against the state.68 A member of the Arab nationalist al-Fatat society and secretary of the Arab Congress held in Paris in 1913, Izzat Darwaza worked as an office clerk in the Ottoman Post Office in Beirut during the war. In his memoirs, he mentions the visit of the Arab literati and its aftermath as follows: This trip went on for two months. Later, the group returned to Syria and organized public meetings in the cities where everybody was invited. The ones who went to these meetings listened to the details of their trip, how they had been honored and treated nicely, [the Turks’] love and affection for Arabs, and their desire for reform and dedication to Islam. Djemal Pasha had always bragged about this trip and, while he initiated legal investigations and later arrested members of the Arab movement, he used this trip to his own benefit. A few months later, on 6 May 1916, by hanging the second group of Arab martyrs, he completed his immense assault . . . Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi and his sort played quite a big role in this drama by participating in this trip.69 In the end, Djemal Pasha’s oppressive rule destroyed any positive impressions the Syrian literati’s visit may have created among the Syrian and Palestinian masses. As Izzat Darwaza mentions in his memoirs, they were held responsible for the tragedy that Arab nationalists experienced later. After the war they were probably perceived by progressive Arab intellectuals as a group of turncoats and collaborators. They were squeezed between a rock and a hard place, and, apparently, this was the difficult state in which they found themselves in Syria and Palestine after 1918.

82  Ayhan Aktar

Notes   1 I am grateful to Daniel Ohanian for his editorial assistance and to M. Talha Çiçek for his critical remarks on the final version of this chapter. I am, of course, responsible for any mistakes.   2 Çiçek, chapter 1 in this volume p. 9.   3 Hasan Kayalı argues that, according to US archive reports, 5,000 Syrian families were deported to Anatolia. See Kayalı, Arabs and Young Turks, p. 193.   4 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 19.   5 Mango, Atatürk, p. 65.   6 Cebesoy, Sınıf Arkadaşım Atatürk, p. 139.   7 Aksakal, The Ottoman Road to War in 1914, p. 186.   8 Sheffy, British Military Intelligence in the Palestine Campaign, p. 149.   9 Ibid. 10 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 71. 11 At the beginning of the war, the Ottoman Army had only one aircraft at the Syrian front; see İlmen, Türkiye’de Tayyarecilik ve Balonculuk Tarihi, p. 13. 12 A staff officer of Djemal Pasha, General Ali Fuad Erden, described the background of the executions: Erden, Birinci Dünya Harbinde Suriye Hatıraları, pp. 324–33. 13 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 48. 14 Muhammad Kurd Ali published his memoirs in 1948 entitled al-Muzekkiraat; this quotation is taken from the Turkish edition. See Kürd Ali, Bir Osmanlı, p. 165. 15 Mousa, T. E. Lawrence, p. 14; cited by Kayalı, Arabs and the Young Turks, p. 193. 16 This list was compiled from articles by Salim Tamari and Serpil Sürmeli and the memoirs of Izzal Darwazeh. 17 The first study on the Syrian literati in Turkish is by Serpil Sürmeli, “Çanakkale Cephesi’nde Arap İlmi Heyeti ve Uryanizade Ali Vahid Efendinin Anıları.” 18 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah al-‘ilmīyah ilá dār al-khilāfah al-Islāmīyah, pp. 6 and 21; quoted by Salim Tamari in this volume, p. 37. 19 An abridged edition of the memoirs of Izzat Darwazah––Mudhakkiratu Muhammad Izzat Darwazeh-al-Mujallad al-Awwal––was published in Turkish: İzzet Derveze, Osmanlı Filistininde bir Posta Memuru, pp. 388–91. 20 See chapter 2, p. 48. 21 Members of the group of Turkish intellectuals who visited the Gallipoli front were as follows: Ağaoğlu Ahmet, Ali Canip, Celâl Sahir, Enis Behiç, Hakkı Süha, Hamdullah Suphi, Hıfzı Tevfik, Muhittin, Orhan Seyfi, Selâhattin, Yusuf Razi, Mehmet Emin, Ömer Seyfettin, İbrahim Alâeddin, and Müfit Ratip; the painters Çallı İbrahim and Nazmi Ziya; and, finally, the musician Ahmet Yekta. See Köroğlu, Ottoman Propaganda and Turkish Identity, p. 83. 22 Çulcu, İkdâm Gazetesi’nde Çanakkale Cephesi, pp. 519–67. 23 Sponsored by the CUP headquarters, Türk Yurdu was the most influential periodical disseminating the ideology of Turkish nationalism throughout the war years. “Türklük Şuûnu: Çanakkale’ye giden Heyet-i Edebiye’nin Avdeti,” Türk Yurdu, no. 88, 16 Temmuz 1331 [29 July 1915]. 24 From Hulusi Bey, the governor of Syria, to Talat Bey, the Minister of the Interior, dated 19 August 1915. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 484/86, 6 Ağustos 1331 [19 August 1915]. I am grateful to Dr. Talha Çiçek for sharing the transcription of this document with me.

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  83 25 For a biographical study of Shakib Arslan, see Cleveland, Islam against the West. 26 General Ali Fuad Erden mentioned in his memoirs that Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi was always asking the Fourth Army GHQ for favors. Erden states that this was an act of nepotism. See Erden, Suriye Hatıraları, pp. 168–70. 27 From Djemal Pasha, general governor of Syria and the commander of Fourth Army in Syria, to Talat Bey, the Minister of the Interior, dated 11 September 1915, DH.ŞFR. 490/84. I am grateful to Dr. Talha Çiçek for sharing the transcription of this document with me. 28 From Hulusi Bey to Talat Bey, dated 27 September 1915, DH.ŞFR. 491/18. 29 BOA. MV [Meclis-i Vükela Mazbataları/Cabinet Decisions] 199/169, dated 19 December 1915 [11 Safer 1334]. 30 Sürmeli, “Çanakkale Cephesi,” p. 378. 31 Çulcu, İkdâm Gazetesi’nde Çanakkale Cephesi, p. 770. 32 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah, p. 39. Quoted by Tamari, chapter 2, p. 45. 33 Ibid. 34 For the gold medals given to Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi and Abu al-Khayr Abidin [abu Neccar] Efendi, see “Suriye ve Filistin Heyet-i İlmiye Reisi Esad [Şukeyr] Efendi ile azadan Şam Müftüsü Ebu Neccar Efendi Abidin’e altın liyakat madalyası verilmesi,” BOA, İradeler [Imperial Orders], TAL. 504/1333/Z-005, 22 Zilhicce 1333 [31 October 1915]. See also Figure 3.1: this photograph probably was taken circa 1916. 35 For the silver medal given to Hussein al-Habbal Efendi, editor of Ebabil, “Suriye ve Filistin Heyeti İlmiyesi azasından Ebabil gazetesi müdürü Hüseyin Cebbal [sic] Efendi’ye gümüş liyakat madalyası verilmesi,” İradeler, TAL. 505/1333/Z-053, 29 Zilhicce 1333 [7 November 1915]. 36 For a report of silver medals given to the Syrian literati in the Ottoman official gazette, see “Suriye ve Filistin Heyet-i İlmiyesine Gümüş Liyakat Madalyası ita olunmuştur,” Takvim-i Vakayi, no. 23515, 5 Teşrin-i Sani 1331 [18 November 1915]. 37 Kürd Ali, Anıları, p. 167. 38 Tamari, chapter 2, p. 43. 39 A member of the Syrian literati, Sheikh Badr al-Din al-Naassani [or Gassani?] from Aleppo, feigned illness and stayed in Istanbul. He was very much afraid of the British and French submarines attacking transport vessels on the Sea of Marmara. See Kürd Ali, Anıları, p. 166. 40 Uryanizâde Ali Vahid, Çanakkal’a Cephesi’nde Duyup Düşündüklerim. For the bureaucratic career of Ali Vahid, first in the office of Sheikh ul-Islam under Ottoman rule and later in the Presidency of Religious Affairs in the republican period, see Sürmeli, “Çanakkale Cephesi,” p. 379. 41 Uryanizâde Ali Vahid, Duyup Düşündüklerim, p. 9. 42 For the “National Defence Society,” see Tunaya, Türkiye’de Siyasal Partiler, pp. 448–57. See also Akın, “The Ottoman Home Front during World War I,” pp. 136–8. 43 Erickson, Ordered to Die, p. xvi. 44 See Beşikçi, The Ottoman Mobilization of Manpower in the First World War, esp. ch. 2. 45 Erickson, Ottoman Army Effectiveness in World War I, p. 24. 46 Altay, “Çanakkale Hatıraları,” p. 13. 47 Ibid. 48 Erickson, Ottoman Army Effectiveness, p. 36.

84  Ayhan Aktar 49 Çalışlar, On Yıllık Savaş, pp. 100 and 101. 50 Birinci Dünya Savaşı’nda Çanakkale Cephesi, p. 84. 51 For the unpublished memoirs of Esad Pasha, see Yanyalı Esat Bülkat, “Üçüncü Kolordu Kumandanlığına tayin olduğum,” p. 576. 52 It is significant that, since 1922, New Zealanders have commemorated every Friday before ANZAC Day (25 April) as ‘Poppy Day’. Poppies were the first flowers that grew on the battlefields and soon faded away. They are considered as symbols of remembrance for the young men slaughtered during the Great War. 53 Çalışlar, On Yıllık Savaş, p. 145. 54 Çulcu, Mehmet Fasih Bey’in Günlüğü, p. 59. 55 See Mustafa Necâ [Beyrut Müftüsü], “Hitabe: Anafartalarda Asakir-i İslâmiyeye karşı yapılan hitabenin tercümesi,” Sebîllürreşad, Cilt 14, Sayı 351, Ay 10, 1331 [1915], pp. 102–3. 56 Sürmeli, “Çanakkale Cephesi,” p. 393. 57 See Figure 3.2, where Colonel Mustafa Kemal is the fourth person from the left briefing the group. 58 Sürmeli, “Çanakkale Cephesi,” p. 391. 59 Uryanizâde Ali Vahid, “Duyup Düşündüklerim,” p. 20. See Figure 3.3, where Colonel Mustafa Kemal is marked with an (x). 60 Gürer, Atatürk’ün Yaveri Cevat Abbas Gürer, pp. 153–5. 61 Ibid., p. 153. 62 Ibid. 63 Ibid., pp. 154–5. 64 Ibid., p. 155. 65 Kürd Ali, Anıları, p. 167. 66 In September 1917, Mustafa Kemal Pasha, who was then the commander of the Seventh Army Corps based in Aleppo, wrote an extensive report to Ottoman GHQ and the CUP cabinet ministers about the military situation in Palestine. After painting a dark picture of maladministration, demoralization and disorganization in the rear and of weakness in the army, Mustafa Kemal proposed that the Ottomans should pursue a purely defensive strategy, recalling every soldier sent abroad, and concentrating on the Sinai front (see Mango, Atatürk, p. 168). His proposed defence line would be just south of Jerusalem, and naturally it would have excluded the holy cities of Mecca and Medina. But the CUP government could not have taken the political risk of abandoning them militarily for ideological reasons: they were still considered to be the army of the Islamic caliphate! Another nationalist officer stationed on the same front argued similarly and said that, “if the Holy Cities had been evacuated, at least 20,000 soldiers and 20 pieces of artillery could have been saved. This would have made the front stronger.” And he asked a crucial question: “Was it possible to defend Medina when Palestine was in danger? If we could have sacrificed Medina and the Hijaz line on the south of Maan in time, we could certainly have held onto Jerusalem.” See the memoirs of Colonel Hüseyin Hüsnü Bey, who was the deputy staff officer of General Erich von Falkenhayn, commander of the Yıldırım armies in Palestine. See Erkilet, Yıldırım, p. 292. 67 Al-Baqir et al., al-Bi‘thah. 68 We know that during the British occupation Sheikh Asad al-Shukairi was imprisoned in a prisoner-of-war camp in Egypt. See Atay, Zeytindağı, p. 53. 69 Derveze, Osmanlı Filistininde bir Posta Memuru, p. 391.

A propaganda tour organized by Djemal Pasha  85

References Akın, Y., “The Ottoman Home Front during World War I: Everyday Politics, Society, and Culture,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Ohio State University, 2011. Aksakal, M., The Ottoman Road to War in 1914: The Ottoman Empire and First World War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. Al-Baqir, M., et al., al-Bi‘thah al-‘ilmīyah ilá dār al-khilāfah al-Islāmīyah. Beirut: Scientific Press, Dar Sadir, 1334 H, 1916. Altay, F., “Çanakkale Hatıraları,” Çanakkale Hatıraları II. Istanbul: Arma Yayınları, 2002. Atay, F. R., Zeytindağı. Istanbul: Bateş yayınları, 1981. Beşikçi, M., The Ottoman Mobilization of Manpower in the First World War: Between Voluntarism and Resistance. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Birinci Dünya Savaşı’nda Çanakkale Cephesi (25 Nisan 1915–04 Haziran 1915), Vol. V, Book 2. Ankara: ATASE, 2012. Bülkat, Esat (Yanyalı) [1862–1952], “Üçüncü Kolordu Kumandanlığına tayin olduğum 25 Kanunuevvel 1329/7 Kanunusani 1914’ten [7 Ocak 1914] Birinci Ordu Kumandanlığına tayin olduğum 3 Teşrinisani 1331/16 Teşrinisani 1915 [16 Kasım 1915] tarihine kadar Hatıratım,” 1950. Çalışlar, İ., On Yıllık Savaş. Istanbul: İş Bankası Yayınları, 2009. Cebesoy, A. F., Sınıf Arkadaşım Atatürk [Atatürk, My Classmate]. Istanbul: Temel Yayınları, 2000. Çiçek, M. T., War and State Formation in Syria: Cjemal Pasha’s Governorate during World War I, 1914–17. London: Routledge, 2014. Cleveland, W. L., Islam against the West: Shakib Arslan and the Campaign for Islamic Nationalism. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1985. Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I: The Palestine Diary of a European Diplomat, ed. R. Mazza and E. Manzano Moreno. London: I. B.Tauris, 2011. Çulcu, M. (ed.), İkdâm Gazetesi’nde Çanakkale Cephesi, 3 Kasım 1914–3 Şubat 1916: Haber–Yorum–Bildiri–Röportaj–Gözlem ve Anılar, Cilt 2. Istanbul: Denizler Kitabevi, 2004. —— Mehmet Fasih Bey’in Günlüğü – Çanakkale 1915: Kanlısırt Günlüğü. Istanbul: Denizler Kitapevi, 2006. Derveze, İ. [Izzat Darwazeh], Osmanlı Filistininde bir Posta Memuru. Istanbul: Klasik, 2007. Erden, A. F., Birinci Dünya Harbinde Suriye Hatıraları. Istanbul: İş Bankası Yayınları, 2003. Erickson, E. J., Ordered to Die: A History of the Ottoman Army in the First World War. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2001. —— Ottoman Army Effectiveness in World War I: A Comparative Study. London: Routledge, 2007. Erkilet, H. H., Yıldırım, Ankara: ATASE, 2002. Gürer T. (ed.), Atatürk’ün Yaveri Cevat Abbas Gürer. Istanbul: Gürer Yayınları, 2006. İlmen, S., Türkiye’de Tayyarecilik ve Balonculuk Tarihi. Istanbul: Hilmi Kitabevi, 1947. Kayalı, H., Arabs and Young Turks: Ottomanism, Arabism, and Islamism in the Ottoman Empire, 1908–1918. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997. Köroğlu, E., Ottoman Propaganda and Turkish Identity: Literature in Turkey during World War I. London: I. B. Tauris, 2007. Kürd Ali, M. [Muhammad Kurd Ali], Bir Osmanlı – Arap Gazetecinin Anıları. Istanbul: Klasik Yayınları, 2006. Mango, A., Atatürk. London: John Murray, 2004.

86  Ayhan Aktar Mousa, S., T. E. Lawrence: An Arab View, trans. Albert Butros. London: Oxford University Press, 1966. Sheffy, Y., British Military Intelligence in the Palestine Campaign, 1914–1918. London: Frank Cass, 1988. Sürmeli, S., “Çanakkale Cephesi’nde Arap İlmi Heyeti ve Uryanizade Ali Vahid Efendinin Anıları,” Atatürk Araştırma Dergisi, 18/53, July 2002. Tunaya, T. Z., Türkiye’de Siyasal Partiler: İkinci Meşrutiyet Dönemi, Cilt 1. Istanbul: Hürriyet Vakfı Yayınları, 1984. Uryanizâde Ali Vahid [Kassam Umumi Müşaviri], Çanakkal’a Cephesi’nde Duyup Düşündüklerim. Istanbul: Darü’l-Hilafeti’l-İlmiyye-Necm-i İstikbal Matbaası, 1332–1334 [1916].

4 “We will treat you like the Armenians” Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa, April 1917 Roberto Mazza “Zionism strives to create for the Jewish people a home in Palestine secured by public law.”1 By the time of the first Zionist Congress, in 1897 in Basel, Switzerland, Zionism was still a nascent movement, born amid controversy. The question to be asked, however, is what was Zionism? It could be argued that it was intended as a colonization movement, with the goal of establishing either a Jewish state or a self-governing territory where Jews would become leaders of their own destiny. Zionism was also a socio-political movement that would reshape Jewish identity and finally solve the so-called Jewish question. At least, this is what was meant to be. Zionism was essentially a European nationalist movement, relying on a genealogy based on the Bible proving the antiquity of the Jewish nation. Theodore Herzl, in Der Judenstaat (The Jewish State), envisioned a mass Jewish migration to Palestine in order to constitute an independent state. By the time his pamphlet was published, Palestine was an Ottoman province and Herzl suggested that, “if His Majesty the Sultan were to give us Palestine, we could in return undertake to regulate the whole finances of Turkey.”2 Although he was seen by many Jews almost as a new king of the Jews, Herzl did not take into account two major questions: Jewish settlements were already present in Palestine, and the Ottomans were not eager to allow Jewish immigration into Palestine. By the end of the nineteenth century, the Ottoman Empire had to deal with a number of uprisings, many with a distinct national character. Separatism was growing stronger in the distant provinces and was often supported by European powers, who exploited them as a destabilizing force to the Ottoman state. These internal dangers were complemented by external threats of partition, and several Ottoman territories were occupied by European powers throughout the nineteenth century.3 The Ottoman–Russian war of 1877–8 proved to be a complete disaster for the Ottomans, who, with the Treaty of San Stefano, and later at the Berlin Congress in the summer of 1878, lost most of their territories in Europe. As a reaction to these threats, the Ottoman Sultan Abdulhamid II centralized more power and modernized the bureaucracy of the state. Whereas Europeans often derided Abdulhamid II as a backward-looking autocrat, in reality the Hamidian regime aimed to save and strengthen the empire, bringing together a variety of previously uncoordinated forces. Regardless of religion and ethnicity, the regime viewed loyalty as a paramount condition to save the empire.4 Zionist loyalty was questioned,

88  Roberto Mazza as allowing European Jews to settle in Palestine would have been too dangerous and simply not acceptable. It is thus no surprise that Abdulhamid II could not allow Jewish immigration to Palestine. The separatist drive by Christians in what later became Lebanon set an example among Ottoman officials: to allow Zionist settlements in Palestine would have likely triggered more European intervention in the region, as Jewish migrants were not Ottoman subjects and were unlikely either to accept Ottoman authority or to acquire Ottoman citizenship. Nevertheless, Abdulhamid II was not entirely against Jewish immigration, and he allowed the establishment of Jewish communities throughout Anatolia.5 The relationship between Zionism and the Ottoman Empire has been the subject both of scholarly works and of popular narratives, driven sometimes by a desire to cast the Ottomans in a negative light vis-à-vis Zionism and, occasionally, to accuse them of anti-Semitism.6 The last years of Ottoman rule––and in particular the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP)––have often been scrutinized to show how the Ottoman regime implemented anti-Semitic policies. Recent literature, however, has challenged this view, and a number of works have looked at the complexities of the relationship between the Ottoman establishment––which itself included a relevant number of Jews––and Zionism, highlighting how opposition to Zionism was an obstacle to Ottoman unity.7 It is important to note that the Jews of the Ottoman Empire, recognized as a religious community, were less exposed to nationalism than their European counterparts and that they fully subscribed to Ottoman patriotism and the concept of Osmanlılık, developed with the Tanzimat reforms. However, with the outbreak of World War I and the radicalization of internal national movements, the Jewish community of the Ottoman Empire found itself at a crossroads: support Ottoman identity or begin to champion Zionism. In 1914, the Ottoman Empire joined the war alongside Germany; the process of mobilization involved not only material but also ideological resources. In their final effort to save the empire, the government, led by the men of the CUP, could not allow any form of nationalism or separatism to develop. Djemal Pasha, a leading figure among the CUP, was named commander in chief of the Fourth Imperial Army and military governor of Syria at the outbreak of war.8 Even though Djemal Pasha was a key figure in the history of the late Ottoman Empire, and ever present in narratives written about the period (albeit often as a negative influence), little has been written about his role as military governor of Syria.9 Known in Lebanon as al-Saffah––the one who slaughters humans–– as he was responsible for hanging large numbers of Syrians accused of treason, Djemal Pasha has become the subject of many debates over his relationships with Zionism and the Jews of Palestine. Although these Jews were already suspicious of the Ottoman government, the orders to evacuate Jaffa and Tel Aviv in 1917 constituted a watershed moment in the history of their relations. At the end of March 1917, the Kaymakam––sub-governor––of Jaffa read a deportation order, crafted by Djemal Pasha, to a crowd of local Jews and Arabs near the Saraya–– government building––close to the port of Jaffa, announcing the impeding evacuation of the population. This order and the following evacuation continue to be

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  89 discussed as the pinnacle of the anti-Zionist and, possibly, anti-Jewish campaign led by Djemal Pasha. Many scholars have used this event to show the xenophobic nature of the CUP and to prove that Ottoman leaders were ready to apply to the Jews the same measures adopted against the Armenians.10 Based on a variety of sources, this chapter will briefly explore Djemal Pasha’s understanding of Zionism in order to show that the decisions taken vis-à-vis Zionists and the Jews of Jaffa and Tel Aviv reflected two major considerations: that Zionism, intended as a colonization movement, was a direct challenge to Ottoman sovereignty; and that war conditions acted as a catalyst, precipitating decisions taken against the civilian residents. The second part of the chapter will be dedicated to the evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv that occurred in the spring of 1917. Events will be presented as they unfolded according to the sources available, with particular attention to how these same events were reported and discussed around the world. It will be argued that, years later, scholars used these reports––many of which were fabricated––to transform the evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv artificially into, first, a forced expulsion and then a massacre. The removal of the population was adopted to support the argument that the Ottomans were not only anti-Zionist but also anti-Semitic, and Zionist and Israeli writers in particular––but also a number of Western scholars––have produced narratives suggesting that the Jews of Palestine were on the brink of annihilation in 1917.11 Interestingly, in recent times a number of Israeli magazines and blogs have resurrected the story, discussing the Jews of Jaffa in 1917 as forgotten refugees. The historiographical debate will show how this event has been subjected to claims since its very unfolding, at the expense of thorough discussion and analyses of the events themselves. Ultimately, this chapter aims to present not an apologetic view of Djemal Pasha, but certainly a more nuanced portrayal of the Generalissimo (as the Spanish consul Conde de Ballobar used to call him).12

Djemal Pasha and Zionism The body of literature dedicated to Zionism is vast and constantly growing, and examination of the movement now covers not only political aspects but also cultural, diplomatic, economic, and religious ones. Though much of this literature is only mildly critical of Zionism, more and more it seems that scholars have accepted the challenge to critically assess the nature of this movement.13 Recently, scholars have begun to reassess the relationships between the various communities in Palestine under Ottoman rule, suggesting that cooperation and coexistence were more common than isolation and conflict.14 Michelle Campos has successfully argued that long-term Ottoman reforms, which had begun with the Tanzimat reorganization and reached their pinnacle with the revolution of 1908, created and materialized the notion of an Ottoman nation as a shared field of social and political interaction and contestation.15 While many of the histories of the Ottomans have been written from the point of view of the empire and following along nationalist lines, others have included its subjects and their histories; however, the relationship between the Ottoman authorities and Zionism has not

90  Roberto Mazza yet been fully scrutinized. Ottoman documents have rarely been used, and only Fuat Dündar, Talha Çiçek, Louis Fishman, İlber Ortaylı, and few other scholars seem to have perused Ottoman material in connection with this relationship.16 Several articles and chapters have been dedicated to Jewish representation in the Ottoman Parliament. It is generally agreed that Ottoman Jews supported the ideals of the Second Constitutional Period, and many were part of the CUP; some even attained influential and sensitive positions.17 According to some Ottoman Jewish authors, there were no contradictions between Zionism and Ottomanism, although Ottoman policies restricting Jewish immigration to Palestine did not change and the CUP regarded Zionism as a different kind of nationalist movement––certainly not a separatist one.18 Zionism was discussed at length in the Ottoman Parliament in the spring of 1911, but, as argued by İlber Ortaylı and Louis Fishman, it was not perceived homogeneously: some Ottoman officials, such as as Ahmet Ağaoğlu––one of the founders of pan-Turkism––even saw Zionism sympathetically.19 For Palestinians, Zionism was something different––a real problem experienced on a daily basis–– but Djemal Pasha’s understanding of Zionism centered on Istanbul, not Palestine. Leaders of the CUP were generally impressed by Zionist support for the Ottoman cause, as happened during the Balkan Wars and the war in Libya. Talat Pasha himself recognized that Zionist colonies in Palestine were contributing to the general development of the empire, as well as increased tax revenues.20 Naturally there were also negative opinions of Zionism; the last Hamidian governor of Jerusalem and supporter of the CUP, Ekrem Bey, saw Zionism as a “dangerous element” and Jewish immigration, particularly from Russia, as a threat to the Empire.21 Ebuziya Tevfik, editor of Tasvir-i Ef kar and a member of the Ottoman Parliament, adopted an openly anti-Semitic tone, accusing the Jews of the overthrow of Abdulhamid II; he also questioned whether allowing Jewish immigration would import a new ethnic conflict in the empire and uprisings.22 Given these diverging views, it is imprudent to pigeonhole Ottoman policies towards Zionism, even though traditional historiography often leaned towards highlighting the intolerant Ottoman attitude.23 A turning point in the Ottoman perception of Zionism which clearly affected Djemal Pasha was the parliamentary debate on Zionism in 1911. Ruhi al-Khalidi––a member of one of the most important Muslim families of Jerusalem and the representative of Jerusalem in the Ottoman Parliament––introduced the discussion by arguing that “within these colonies there is no one from the government,” suggesting that Zionists had free rein in Palestine.24 Al-Khalidi was not alone: in concert with the other representative from Jerusalem, Sa’id al-Husayni, they voiced their opposition to Jewish immigration to Palestine not in anti-Semitic terms but, rather, in terms of loyalty to and the stability of the empire––a language Djemal understood all too well. Louis Fishman is right to say that al-Khalidi opened Pandora’s box, showing the dangers of Zionist activities in Palestine; tellingly, Palestinians were never mentioned in the debate.25 Djemal Pasha’s understanding of Zionism was reflected in the debates occurring in Istanbul but was also informed by unfolding events, particularly after the outbreak of the war in 1914. His views were complex, but they were nicely

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  91 summarized in 1917 by Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, a journalist and leader of the Poale Zion party (Workers of Zion), who would go on to be the second president of Israel: “His attitude towards Zionism is negative, but definite. But his attitude towards Zionists is as changeable as his own nature.”26 Fuat Dündar, while perusing Ottoman documents, seems to suggest in his work that Djemal Pasha’s attitude towards Zionism reflected the CUP Turkification project of the Ottoman lands. It is true that Djemal, once named governor of Syria, sought to integrate Bilad al-Sham (Greater Syria) fully into the Ottoman Empire; however, Talha Çiçek is right to argue that Djemal’s primary aim, rather than to homogenize and Turkify the region, was to eliminate local intermediaries and reestablish full Ottoman sovereignty.27 There is no evidence to suggest that Djemal Pasha adopted specifically anti-Jewish policies, but he certainly fought Zionists who wanted to establish a Jewish entity in Palestine. The rigid attitude he adopted with the deportation of Zionist leaders, in particular, was similar to the one implemented against urban Arab nationalists. The struggle against Zionism was a struggle against a movement that was perceived to be a colonization project. Writing to Talat, Djemal made it clear that, while he did not want to eliminate the Jewish population of Palestine, he certainly did not want it to increase; he hoped ultimately to integrate the Jews into the Empire.28 As long as they could prove their loyalty, Jews in Palestine were not a problem for Djemal. There was no inconsistency in Djemal Pasha’s behaviour: Zionism did not equate with Judaism, as Jews were not necessarily Zionists. Arthur Ruppin, a leading Zionist in Palestine, noted in his diary and memoirs that Djemal Pasha was especially hostile to the Zionists, but at the same time he reported: [3 March 1915] Yesterday afternoon Jemal Pasha came to Jaffa, spent most of his time visiting Tel Aviv and the grammar school, and not only made a speech to the Jews expressing his goodwill and promising them his protection, but also distributed printed proclamations defending the Jews against the accusation of holding unpatriotic views and threatening that anyone making an accusation of this sort will be punished. I am still baffled by this sudden and blatant change in Jemal Pasha’s attitude, but it has certainly raised the spirits of the Jews in Jaffa who have been very pessimistic until now.29 Indeed, the residents of Jaffa and Tel Aviv had plenty of reasons to be pessimistic––in fact, since Djemal Pasha had been made governor of Syria, he had started a campaign expelling those Jews who were not Ottoman subjects or did not want to accept Ottoman citizenship. Furthermore, while attending a reception in Jerusalem in January 1915 organized by the local Jewish community, Djemal interrupted the speech given by Chief Rabbi Moses Franco, shouting: The Russians have always been our enemies. Why didn’t those Jews become Ottoman when we offered them citizenship? They have escaped tsarist persecution and they found refuge here. And what did they do? They chose to remain Russian subjects . . . How do you think I cannot consider them spies?30

92  Roberto Mazza The choice made by Djemal Pasha to appoint Bahaeddin Bey as Kaymakam of Jaffa proved to be quite controversial. Bahaeddin, who had previously served in Macedonia against the European powers, was described as intelligent, incorruptible, and cruel; he resented the Jews––particularly Russian Jews––and wanted to put an end to the Jewish colonies, which he regarded as separatist.31 With the abolition of the Capitulations in 1914, Bahaeddin, who was ordered to fight against the Zionist movement, started a systematic and very harsh campaign against the Jewish population of Jaffa and Tel Aviv, culminating in an order of evacuation for all Jewish foreign nationals on 17 December 1914. The harsh treatment of the Jews and other evacuees drew strong criticisms from the German and American ambassadors, who eventually forced the cabinet to assign him a new job.32 For a little while he served as political adviser and adjutant to Djemal, a position that granted him more leverage against the Jews than before. Aware of the lesson learned in Jaffa, on 25 January 1915 he had a proclamation published in the Hebrew newspaper ha-Herut making a clear distinction between the Jews––true sons of the Fatherland––and the Zionists, whom he considered wicked revolutionary elements.33 Eventually, Bahaeddin overstepped the remit of his role and duties and was sent back to Istanbul. Though Djemal proved to be more considerate than Bahaeddin, he did not stop the persecution of Zionist leaders. Between 1915 and 1916, he expelled or relocated a large number of leaders of the various Zionist colonies, including Arthur Ruppin, who was a German subject. Ruppin was personally called by Djemal Pasha and informed that he had to leave Palestine within eight days, by September 21; Ruppin noted in his diary that he was given no explanation.34 Quite naively, Isiah Friedman argued that there is no evidence suggesting the origin of Djemal’s hostility towards Zionism.35 The reality is that Djemal Pasha’s hostility to Zionism was similar to the antagonism displayed against Arab nationalists; indeed, it can be strongly argued that he was much more aggressive towards the Arabs than towards the Zionists.36 He never mentioned Zionism in his memoirs; similarly, Falih Rıfkı Atay, who worked as his secretary during the war in Jerusalem, painted Djemal as a strong nationalist and defender of the empire, but very little in his memoirs is dedicated to Zionism. The only reference highlights how Djemal viewed Zionists as potential spies.37 When the treatment of Arab nationalists and Zionists is compared, the latter were arguably more privileged. Those who refused the opportunity to acquire Ottoman citizenship when it was offered were expelled, rather than hanged like the eleven Arab nationalists executed in Beirut on 21 August 1915.38 On 17 December 1914, a large number of “enemy subjects” expelled by the Ottomans, including several thousand Jews––for the most part Russians–– embarked on an American battleship, the Tennessee. This event was given wide publicity, as were events which occurred in 1917 (discussed later) in the United States and England, where the press––claiming that Jewish settlements were on the brink of annihilation––were happy to criticize the Germans and their Turkish allies.39 This news was largely exaggerated. The Spanish consul in Jerusalem, Conde de Ballobar, who was in Jaffa to supervise the evacuation of Christian

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  93 clergy belonging to various nationalities, did not report any specific incidents.40 Three days later, Djemal Pasha ordered the evacuation of French Jews who did not want to become Ottoman subjects. “Back to the beginning!” wrote Ballobar, as the wave of expulsions from Palestine looked unstoppable.41 These actions were partly the result of war conditions, but they were also meant to defend the empire from “foreign influence.” This is the context for Djemal’s perception of Zionism. Djemal, as noted earlier, was not interested in the extermination of the Jewish community of Palestine, but he was certainly committed to the elimination of Zionism as a movement aiming to establish a Jewish state in Palestine. Some argue there was an anti-Semitic nature to Djemal’s policies, or that they supported the potential ethnic engineering in the Turkification of Palestine, but the available evidence does not support this. On the contrary, these sources point to the complexities, and sometimes the contradictions, of the problematic relationship between Djemal Pasha and Zionism.

The evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv, April 1917 The conquest of Palestine by British troops did not prove easy; the British attempted twice to take Gaza, first on 26–7 March 1917 and then a few weeks later, on 16–17 April. Both times, General Archibald Murray, commander of the Egyptian Expeditionary Force (EEF), failed to achieve his goal.42 Because of this, at the end of June the newly elected British prime minister, David Lloyd George, offered the command of the EEF to General Edmund Allenby. Known as “the Bull,” Allenby changed the war strategy and eventually defeated Ottoman and German forces in Palestine.43 The evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv occurred after the appointment of Allenby, and some historians and commentators have argued that the fact it was ordered after the British defeat at Gaza suggests the measure was either similar to anti-Jewish pogroms perpetrated in Russia or part of a wider a plan of ethnic cleansing in the area.44 Following the appointment of Allenby, it was clear that the British were going to push forward into Palestine; as such, military necessities cannot be underestimated.45 On 28 March 1917, following the First Battle of Gaza, the Mutasarrıf––governor––of Jerusalem, Izzet Bey, travelled to Jaffa and, according to Ballobar, communicated the order issued by Djemal Pasha to evacuate the city within twelve days: Ottomans and neutrals would have to leave; only German, Austrian, and Bulgarian subjects would be allow to stay. Ballobar was not surprised: in his diary, he wrote that a German colleague told him that they were expecting a land and sea attack against Jaffa.46 Mordechai Ben-Hillel Hacohen––a successful businessman and public figure, and one of the founders of Tel Aviv––reported in his diary the decree read by the Kaymakam of Jaffa on 29 March 1917 to the crowd of local Jews and Arabs near the Saraya building, close to the port of Jaffa.47 The order stated that all residents of Jaffa had to leave their homes and move anywhere they wanted, apart from Haifa, Jerusalem, and other coastal cities. There are several interpretations of this decree, reflecting the fact that it changed several times in the following days. The order did not include Arab peasants, workers at the

94  Roberto Mazza winery of Rishon LeZion, or the teachers and students of the Mikveh Agricultural School: clearly, the order was trying to protect the local agricultural production as a source of food for troops involved in the conflict.48 The reaction of the people was one of surprise and despair. However, it seems as if local inhabitants were expecting a similar decision: a few days before the decree was issued, the Jews of Jaffa and Tel Aviv formed a Migration Committee, Va’ad HaHagira, to petition the Ottomans and coordinate the migration.49 By 1917 the Jewish population of Jaffa and Tel Aviv numbered 10,000, for the most part Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews, together with a growing Ashkenazi population.50 On 30 March, Ballobar visited Djemal Pasha to lobby on behalf of the Spaniards living in Jaffa, who were primarily clergy. At first the consul tried to allow them to travel to Jerusalem, a request Djemal did not deny. However, when Ballobar requested the Spaniards remain in Jaffa, Djemal not only refused but exclaimed: “That is not our objective [to avoid the death of foreigners] but rather to defend ourselves in the city as we have done in Gaza, and how do you want us to defend ourselves between the screams and wailing of women and children?”51 The German consul, Brode, was more successful in easing the confinements of the decree. Taking advantage of a diplomatic incident between the German consul in Jaffa, Karl Freiherr von Schabinger, and Izzet Bey, Brode advised Djemal to avoid alienating the Jewish population of Palestine and, above all, to refrain from presenting the enemy with free propaganda.52 Plans were then changed: refugees were allowed to go to Jerusalem and, most importantly, more farmers and workers were able to stay, as could those working in the plantations of the Sharon Plain.53 Since the Germans did not want to appear to support any religious discrimination, Djemal Pasha, while on a visit there, changed the date for the evacuation of Jaffa to 9 April, allowing the Jews to celebrate Passover in their homes. Stressing that the measures were not targeting one specific group, Djemal stated: “I am not an anti-Semite, I am only an anti-Zionist.”54 Ballobar noted the anti-Zionist tone, but he could not criticize it, as he also observed that “espionage must exist on a grand scale.”55 Indeed, the tone changed, but not the substance: the evacuation was to take place. Preparations were made and, slowly, the civilian population began to evacuate the city. Ballobar, traveling through Jaffa on 7 April, noted that the wealthy residents were leaving by car, whereas the less wealthy were transported on carts; even then, many were on foot. The consul also noted that some cafés were still open, with many of the customers being Muslim, but the city center was empty, shops were closed, and there were no women on the streets; similarly, Tel Aviv was deserted. Disappointed, Ballobar observed that “The Jews have departed, for the most part, to the Jewish colonies of Galilee; the Christians and Muslims to God knows where and very few people have gone to Jerusalem.”56 Mordechai Ben-Hillel noted that the evacuation was a gruesome spectacle, as Jaffa fell silent.57 Nearly 9,000 Jews abandoned the city, with only farm workers––but not their families––and few watchmen left behind.58 While many Arabs found shelter in nearby villages, ready to return at the first possible chance, the Jewish residents of Jaffa and Tel Aviv experienced the evacuation in a completely different way.59

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  95 Those who had the financial means traveled to the nearby Jewish colonies, and many resettled in Petah Tikva, just a few miles east of Jaffa.60 All others, mainly from the lower class and supported by the Migration Committee, relocated to a number of towns in Lower Galilee.61 The trip was not easy: the Ottoman authorities did not supply the services––including food and shelter––that had been promised, and only a few railway carriages were provided.62 A German report suggests that around 250 wagons were provided by Jewish colonists in Galilee to ease the hardship of the trip.63 Women, children, and the elderly were naturally vulnerable, and mortality rates were high. Alroey argues that it seemed there was not a single family from Tel Aviv that had not lost at least one family member.64 While some among the Arab population of Jaffa were able to return in the following days and weeks, the Jews made their way back to the city only after the war. Much has been written about this particular subject, and many narratives have been employed to prove the anti-Semitic tone of the Ottoman administration, pointing out the lack of cooperation and solidarity between the Arabs and Jews. The behavior of the two populations, however, seems to have been different. The Jews of Jaffa and Tel Aviv had strong connections with other Jews settled around Palestine. Isaiah Friedman recognized that, in times of crisis, Jewish solidarity was at its strongest.65 A number of professional groups were involved in the organization of the evacuation, partly coordinated by the Migration Committee, suggesting that, despite the hardships, the Jewish population was fairly well organized and ready to face the challenge.66 In his diary, Mordechai Ben-Hillel Hacohen argued that the Arab people had not organized a full evacuation as they did not believe Djemal Pasha would carry out the order.67 This view did not take into account the fact that the Arab population of Jaffa was not organized in the same way as the Jewish population––they arranged their internal relationships differently––and, as Ballobar remarked, they had nowhere else to go: only a few hundred moved to Qalqilya and Tulkarm, while 200 Muslims went to Tiberias. Clearly the evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv was a major blow to the local Jewish community, but it did not stop the Zionist project or the growth of Tel Aviv after the war.

The creation of a myth The evacuation of towns and villages was a common recurrence on the European front, particularly for settlements close to the trenches, such as Ypres in Belgium. The evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv, I would argue, was not that different; just a few weeks earlier, Gaza––while under attack by the British––was partially evacuated. Interestingly, in his diary entry for 25 April, Arthur Ruppin simply reported without comment that the evacuation of Jaffa had taken place.68 However, the forced evacuation of Jews from Jaffa and Tel Aviv became transformed into a massacre when Sarah Aaronsohn, sister of the famous agronomist Aaron Aaronsohn and one of the leaders of NILI spy ring in Palestine, arrived in Egypt with the story.69 One of the most consequential fabrications of fake news and disinformation in World War I was set in motion at that moment, with devastating effect on the Ottomans and the historiography produced after the collapse of the empire.

96  Roberto Mazza Sarah Aaronsohn arrived in Port Said from Athlit on board the Managem and rushed to Cairo to meet her brother Aaron. She informed him that, a few weeks earlier, Djemal Pasha had ordered the evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv. It was, at minimum, second-hand information, as she was not in Jaffa, but it could be argued that she also fabricated information to spread propaganda in favor of the Jews and of Zionism. Sarah told Aaron that, during the evacuation, two Jewish men were lynched; this proved to be false,70 but Aaron was understandably disturbed by the news and immediately sought a receptive ear with British officials. On 27 April he obtained an audience with Mark Sykes––assistant secretary to the war cabinet in charge of Middle Eastern affairs––who immediately saw the significance of the news: not just propaganda to support the British–Zionist alliance but negative propaganda against the Germans and their Ottoman allies.71 Sykes authorized Aaronsohn to write a memorandum on the events that occurred in Jaffa, and the next day he cabled a message to the Foreign Office to be delivered to Chaim Weizmann.72 Aaron Aaronsohn asks me to inform you that Televiv [sic] has been sacked. 10,000 Palestinian Jews are now without home or food. Whole yeshuv [sic] is threatened with destruction. Jemal has publicly stated that Armenian policy will now be applied to Jews. Pray inform centers without naming Aaron Aaronsohn or source of information.73 The Zionist Bureau got to work and, within few days, the news that the Jewish community in Palestine was under threat of annihilation was reported all over the world. The first newspaper to spread the news was the London-based Jewish Chronicle, which on 4 May reported that “Tel Aviv, the beautiful Garden City suburb of Jaffa, has been sacked and lies a mere heap of ruins, while similar wanton destruction has in all probability taken place in other specifically Jewish parts of Palestine.”74 A few days later another cable reached Graham at the Foreign Office with more details, claiming that: “During Passover entire Jewish population Jaffa expelled towards north. Homes, property sacked, population in flight robbed connivance Turkish authorities. Jews resisting pillage hanged . . . ”75 Based on this unverified information provided by an “absolutely reliable source,” the New Zealand Herald ran an article entitled “Under Turkish Tyranny Jews Driven from Jaffa: Robbery and Cruelty.”76 The New York Times screamed: “Cruelties to Jews Deported in Jaffa.”77 Similarly, Italy’s Corriere della Sera suggested that Palestine had been devastated,78 while other leading newspapers such as the Manchester Guardian and the French Le Temps directly accused Djemal Pasha; more importantly, the whole campaign suggested that Jews could not live peacefully under Muslim rule. On the side of the Entente and the neutrals, no one really cared that these reports were grossly exaggerated. When the news reached the Germans and the Ottomans, they tried in vain to correct the reports,79 with the Frankfurter Zeitung arguing that the “persecution of the Jews in Palestine is a fiction . . . a product of Anglo-French imagination.”80 German-Ottoman counterpropaganda was not successful, despite the fact that local independent sources

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  97 clearly reported that the events in Jaffa did not unfold as reported by many British newspapers and that there was certainly not a pogrom against the Jews.81 On 11 June, Ballobar received a cable from the Spanish Foreign Office via the German Embassy, stating: “please accept the invitation that the German military authority will make you, to serve as an official observer of the territory in Syria and Palestine.”82 Ballobar was asked to investigate the events that allegedly occurred in Jaffa and to “clarify this question”––a suggestion made by Djemal Pasha himself.83 Although the idea of a formal inquiry was eventually shelved, Ballobar wrote a report that survives in the British archives: . . . it is not true that there have been massacres or persecution of Jews such as in Syria and Palestine; but that the Jews have only shared the same lot as the Christians owing to the application of the measure taken by the military authorities with the regard to the evacuation of those districts.84 The American consulate also sent a report to London, via The Hague, suggesting that the accounts of violence were grossly exaggerated.85 In January 1925, a local American newspaper reported that the former American consul in Jerusalem, Dr. Otis Glazebrook, said that: “Turks have been greatly maligned,” and “he failed to note any unspeakable barbarism attributed to the Turks.”86 Although no mention was made of the events in Jaffa, it is clear that he did not share the negative view of the Turks in the spring of 1917. A Swedish envoy was much bolder in his report, stating: “the Jewish population of Jaffa had fared better––and certainly no worse––than the resident Moslem population in the evacuation.”87 Perhaps the Swede did not have much sympathy for the Jews, but, in light of the events that affected everyone, he was certainly right to say that there was no great disparity of treatment. As Ben-Hillel Hacohen indicated: “There is no doubt that the expulsion from Jaffa and the villages around Jerusalem have done awful damage to the Jews and to Jewish settlement there.” However, as he also said: “Our tears are more than falling pools of water. This is also for the best.”88 Ultimately, those who suffered as a result of the evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv were reduced simply to propaganda. Despite the evidence suggesting events did not unfold as portrayed by the media of that time, no major efforts have been made to rectify the narratives or the interpretation of these events. Israeli historiography has used them to characterize Djemal Pasha’s regime negatively and to describe the depressing times of World War I in Palestine.89 In the famous book on the NILI spies by Anita Engle, Djemal Pasha is quoted as declaring: “I know the Jewish community in Palestine is waiting for English like a bride for her bridegroom, but as the bridegroom comes closer, we will remove the bride farther away.”90 No source for this is provided, and it certainly sounds too conveniently crafted to support the evacuation as an expulsion targeting the Jews rather than the general population. As noted earlier, Israeli historians have often focused their arguments on the Ottoman dislike of Zionism, pointing out how Arabs grew suspicious and antagonized the movement, which was perceived as a foreign incursion. Among the “New Historians,”

98  Roberto Mazza Ilan Pappe, in his A History of Modern Palestine––while briefly mentioning the evacuation of Jaffa as a wartime measure––noted that Djemal was more benevolent towards the Zionists than towards the urban Muslim elites.91 Tom Segev, however, seems to have adopted a different view, one closer to traditional historiography. In an article published in 2009 commemorating the evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv, without directly criticizing Djemal Pasha, Segev quoted extensively from the diaries of Mordechai Ben-Hillel Hacohen and Moshe Smilansky, who defined the event as a “holocaust upon holocaust.”92 Over the last few years, some in the Israeli media have taken a particular interest in the evacuation of Jaffa and Tel Aviv in 1917. In 2007, for example, the journalist Nadav Shragai discussed how the descendants of the survivors of the evacuation have tried for years to persuade Tel Aviv authorities to commemorate the victims, to no avail. To support his argument, Shragai interviewed Gur Alroey, likely the strongest scholar on this topic, who argued that, since the Jews of Jaffa “simply got up and left, without resisting, no one is interested to remember or recall this event.”93 It is a shame neither took the opportunity to raise the possibility that events did not, in fact, unfold as portrayed by Hacohen and Smilansky. In an article published in Jerusalem Post Magazine on 9 December 2011, a former Israeli diplomat, Lenny Ben-David, argued that a full massacre of the Jewish population of Jaffa and Tel Aviv was averted by General von Falkenhayn, who took over from Djemal Pasha in the last days of the war in Palestine.94 The article is based on interviews with scholars who never questioned the veracity of the sources used, and it quotes the German historian Michael Hesemann, who claimed: “In Jaffa, more than 8,000 Jews were forced to leave their homes, which were sacked by the Turks. Two Jews were hanged in front of the town gate, dozens were found dead on the beach.” In the last few years, there has been a trend in these publications to advocate for a memorial of the events of 1917. In an article published by Larry Domnitch in Arutz Sheva on 12 April 2011, the author suggests that the Jews became refugees in their own land following the expulsion ordered by Djemal Pasha.95 The narrative employed by Domnitch focused more on the consequences of the evacuation and––possibly quoting Alroey––highlighted the number of victims of the evacuation. To strengthen his case, he claimed that the descendants of the survivors are the realization of the words of the Psalm 126: 5–“they that sow in tears shall reap in joy.” In a slightly more sophisticated take, published in Haaretz in June 2014, Nir Hasson suggests that “The expulsion [of the Jews] was meant in theory to prevent harms from coming to civilians, but it actually stemmed from fear of a ‘fifth column’ that would assist the British.”96 To a point, this is a fair assessment, although Hasson shows a rather poor understanding of Djemal Pasha. Reporting the six steps that the latter suggested the empire should take to eradicate Zionism, the author interpreted this as anti-Semitism and misunderstood that Djemal was opposed to all separatist movements. While Hasson attempted to rely on good scholarly written work, he too was not able to escape the narrative and suggested that the evacuation of Jaffa was a prelude to a larger massacre, similar to that of the Armenians. Lastly, the website for the Municipality of Tel-Aviv and Jaffa

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  99 hosts a page dedicated to the events of 1917, diplomatically called the “Tel Aviv deportation order” [‫ ;]פקודת גירוש תל אביב ע"י התורכים במלחמת העולם הראשונה‬although the events are not defined as a massacre, it is interesting to note that there is no reference to the Arab population of Jaffa.97

Conclusion Far too often in the literature discussing the relationship between Djemal Pasha and Zionism, scholars seem to have been informed by an analogy with the Armenian genocide, leading to claims that the Ottomans were going to implement similar policies against the Jews. Aaron Aaronsohn was responsible for introducing the analogy to the wider world, but he did not invent it; we know that, by 1917, the Jews were very much aware of the events that had unfolded in Armenia and Anatolia against the Armenians.98 Nevertheless, the oft-repeated sentence “we will treat you like the Armenians,” attributed to Djemal Pasha in relation to the Jews, is not traceable in any available source. Yuval Ben-Bassat, examining Ottoman documents, found a similar statement made to the inhabitants of Zichron Yaakov––the NILI headquarters––by the Ottoman authorities, who had recently discovered the spy ring and wanted the leaders handed over by the local villagers.99 The leaders were captured and badly tortured, but the greater threat never materialized. There are two major conclusions that can be drawn from this. Firstly, that these events occurred after Sarah Aaronsohn informed her brother of the evacuation of Jaffa, suggesting this sentence was commonly employed by Ottoman officials; and secondly––with far-reaching consequences––that Ottoman officials openly admitted what was done to the Armenians. Since there is no document confirming the origin of this infamous sentence, I make an educated guess as to how this might have turned by Zionist leaders into propaganda. Rather than being a fabrication, I would suggest the sentence was borrowed from elsewhere and can be attributed to a more prestigious Ottoman leader. While talking to the Greek consul in Jerusalem about the Greeks living in Turkey during a dinner on 9 September 1916 at the convent of Artas, Ali Fuad Bey, Djemal Pasha’s chief of staff, reportedly said: “We will treat them worse than the Armenians.”100 Ballobar, who reported this in his dairy, noted how shocked the guests were at this statement. Interestingly, Ballobar reported that they discussed the great plantations in the desert––expected to support the war effort and postwar economic development. Since Aaronsohn was working for Djemal Pasha as an agriculturalist, it is very possible he was present and that he later borrowed and adapted the locution to the Jewish context. Clearly, the relationship between Djemal Pasha and Zionism is complex, and the evacuation of Jaffa does not reveal any project of Turkification of Jaffa and Jerusalem, as suggested by Fuat Dündar.101 It is unmistakable that Djemal Pasha disliked Zionism and tried to stop its development in every way possible permitted by the Ottoman system of government. As argued earlier, Djemal saw Zionism as a separatist movement that threatened the integrity of the empire, in the same way as the emerging Arab nationalism. He may have distrusted the Jews, but they

100  Roberto Mazza certainly suffered considerably less than their Arab counterparts; whether from domestic or international pressure, the Jews were partially shielded. Despite the narrative produced in the aftermath of the evacuation, even the German consul Brode––no fan of Djemal––thought the evacuation plan stemmed from military necessity.102 In the long term, Djemal’s fears about Zionism becoming a colonial movement were proven correct: the purpose was, indeed, to create a Jewish state at the expense of the local population. But, as the Arab world grew enraged at the British for promising Palestine to the Jews through the Balfour Declaration, Djemal’s star had faded.

Notes    1 The Basel Declaration, First Zionist Congress, 1897.    2 Herzl, The Jewish State.    3 Haniouğlu, A Brief History of the Late Ottoman Empire, pp. 67–9.    4 Ibid., pp. 12–9; McCarthy, The Ottoman Turks, pp. 314–15.    5 Fishman, “Understanding the 1911 Ottoman Parliament Debate on Zionism in Light of the Emergence of a ‘Jewish Question,’” p. 107.    6 This is a very short sample: McMeekin, The Berlin–Baghdad Express; Adelman, The Rise of Israel; Friedman, Germany, Turkey, Zionism, 1897–1918; Ma’oz, Ottoman Reform in Syria and Palestine; Schama, Two Rothschilds and the Land of Israel; Blumberg, Zion before Zionism, 1838–1880; Mandel, The Arabs and Zionism Before World War I. A recent publication by Yuval Ben-Bassat discusses the views of the Zionists in Palestine through petitions sent to Istanbul in the late Ottoman era: BenBassat, Petitioning the Sultan, pp. 154–78.    7 Works discussing the complexity of the relationship between the Ottoman Empire and Zionism will be quoted throughout the chapter.    8 Erickson, Ordered to Die, p. 69.    9 The only up-to-date work in English is Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria. A work available in Turkish, which will be discussed throughout the chapter, is by Fuat Dündar: Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi.   10 A good work discussing the Armenian genocide in relation to the Jews is Yair Auron, The Banality of Indifference.   11 Adelman, The Rise of Israel, pp. 58–9.   12 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I.   13 The literature is vast; here I would like to suggest only some of the most popular and interesting titles: Laqueur, A History of Zionism; Sachar, A History of Israel from the Rise of Zionism to Our Time; Harvey et al., Zion and Zionism among Sephardi and Oriental Jews; Shapira, Israel: A History; Saposnik, Becoming Hebrew.   14 Here are some works dealing with the relationships between the various communities in late Ottoman Palestine: Campos, Ottoman Brothers; Lemire, Jérusalem 1900; Jacobson, From Empire to Empire; Mazza, Jerusalem from the Ottomans to the British; Jawhariyyeh, The Storyteller of Jerusalem; Ben-Bassat and Ginio, Late Ottoman Palestine; Benbassa, “Le Sionisme dans l’empire Ottoman à l’aube du 20e siècle”; Tamari, Mountain against the Sea.   15 Campos, Ottoman Brothers, p. 3.   16 Some interesting chapters have been written in Levy, The Jews of the Ottoman Empire; see also Ben-Bassat, Petitioning the Sultan.

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  101   17 Levy, “Ottoman Jewry in the Modern Era, 1826–1923,” in The Jews of the Ottoman Empire, p. 112.   18 Ibid., p. 117.   19 Holly A. Shissler, Between Two Empires, p. 250.   20 Ortaylı, “Ottomanism and Zionism during the Second Constitutional Period, 1908–1915,” p. 533.   21 CZA, L2/26I, Zionist Central Office to Ruppin, 15 September 1908.   22 Fishman, “Understanding the 1911 Ottoman Parliament Debate on Zionism,” pp. 107–8.   23 More traditional historiography simply argued that the Young Turks adopted antiZionist policies similar to those of the old regime without questioning the complex views among the Young Turks and the CUP members. See, for instance, Weltmann, “Germany, Turkey, and the Zionist Movement, 1914–1918,” p. 248.   24 Quoted in Fishman, “Palestine Revisited: Reassessing the Jewish and Arab National Movements, 1908–14,” p. 247.   25 Fishman, “Understanding the 1911 Ottoman Parliament Debate on Zionism,” p. 113.   26 Ben-Zvi, “Djemal Pasha,” p. 104.   27 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 79–80.   28 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 465/19, Djemal to Talat, 15 March 1915 [2 Mart 1331], Jerusalem: “No colony can be established that is inhabited only by Jews, and the existing colonies––not to be called colonies––should be named as villages on condition that the proper names be determined by the state.”   29 Ruppin, Memories, Diaries, Letters, pp. 155–6.   30 Antébi, L’Homme du sérail, p. 501.   31 Ibid., p. 495; Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 197; see also chapter 5 in this volume, pp. 000–00.   32 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 82.   33 Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 219.   34 Ruppin, Memoirs, Diaries, Letters, p. 160.   35 Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 219.   36 On the CUP and Arab nationalism, see Gelvin, Divided Loyalties; Kayalı, Arabs and Young Turks; Khalidi et al., The Origins of Arab Nationalism; Provence, The Great Syrian Revolt and the Rise of Arab Nationalism; Tauber, The Emergence of the Arab Movements.   37 Djemal Pasha, Memories of a Turkish Statesman, 1913–1919; Atay, Le Mont des Oliviers, p. 102.   38 This event is widely discussed in the literature mentioned earlier. However, it was also reported in Ottoman sources: see BOA, DH.ŞFR 485/8, Azmi to Talat, 22 August 1915 (9 Ağustos 1915), Beirut.   39 Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, pp. 215–18.   40 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, pp. 40–42.   41 Ibid., p. 42; NARA, Consular Post, Vol. 69, Governor of Jerusalem to Glazebrook, 29 December 1914, Jerusalem.   42 For details, see Bruce, The Last Crusade; Dane, British Campaigns in the Nearer East, 1914–1918; Falls, Military Operations, Egypt and Palestine.   43 For details on Allenby, see Hughes, Allenby and British Strategy in the Middle East, 1917–1919; Sheffy, British Military Intelligence in the Palestine Campaign, 1914–1918; Wavell, Allenby, Soldier and Statesman.   44 Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 348; Dündar, Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi, pp. 388–96; The Zionist Organization in London went further, claiming that

102  Roberto Mazza the evacuation of Jaffa, not justified by military reasons, was part of a project to make Palestine Turkish: Zionist Organization, Palestine During the War, p. 37.   45 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 259–60.   46 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 146. There is a bit of confusion about the date the actual order was read to the population. According to Isaiah Friedman, the date was 27 March; however, a number of other sources, including Ballobar and the report written by the Zionist Organization in 1921, Palestine during the War, suggest 29 March.   47 Ben-Hillel Hacohen, Milhemet ha-’Amim, p. 527.   48 Alroey, “Exiles in their own Land?,” p. 137. CZA, Z3/81, General Report, 27 May 1917.   49 CZA, Z3/81, General Report, 27 May 1917: “When the evacuation became inevitable, the Jewish leaders wanted an orderly evacuation to avoid panic. This was not an easy task because of the lack of transportation and food,” p. ii; Alroey, “Exiles in their own Land?,” p. 138.   50 Details on population can be found in LeVine, Overthrowing Geography, p. 39.   51 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, pp. 147–8.   52 NARA, T120, Roll 4333, Turkey 195, Brode to Kuhlman, 5 April 1917; Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, pp. 348–9.   53 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 148.   54 NARA, T120, Roll 4333, Turkey 195, Brode to Kuhlman, 5 April 1917.   55 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 148.   56 Ibid., pp. 150–51; CZA, Z3/83, Evacuation of the Jews from Jaffa (Tel Aviv) and the Judaean settlements by the Turkish military authorities, Jerusalem, 1 July 1917. This report suggests that a number of Christian and Muslims moved to Qalqilya and Tulkarm; 200 Muslims moved to Tiberias.   57 Ben-Hillel Hacohen, Milhemet ha-’Amim, p. 133.   58 CZA, Z3/82, Evacuation of the Jews from Jaffa (Tel Aviv) and the Judaean settlements by the Turkish military authorities, Jerusalem, 1 July 1917. This report suggests that there were nearly 10,000 Jewish inhabitants between Jaffa and Tel Aviv, and also that the focus was on 5,000 individuals, including the elderly, women, children, and those in need. An earlier report suggests a slightly more conservative figure of between 7,000 and 9,000 had leave Jaffa; it focused more on the final destinations for these Jews rather than on the figures. CZA, Z3/81, General Report, 27 May 1917, p. iii.   59 Of the 40,000 Arabs living in Jaffa, around 30,000 were Muslims and 10,000 were Christians. LeVine, Overthrowing Geography, p. 39.   60 CZA, Z3/81, General Report, 27 May 1917, pp. iii–v.   61 Alroey, “Exiles in their own Land?,” p. 143.   62 Zionist Organization, Palestine during the War, p. 37.   63 CZA, Z3/81, General Report, 27 May 1917, p. iii. The colonists charged a small fee to those who were evacuated.   64 Alroey, “Exiles in their own Land?,” p. 144.   65 Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 350.   66 Alroey seems to suggest that professional organizations were not coordinated by the Migration Committee as they operated on the basis of social and ethnic affiliation. However, considering that after the evacuation of Jaffa only the Migration Committee survived, and that its members also belonged to professional organizations, it is possible that there may have been a degree of coordination.   67 Ben-Hillel Hacohen, Milhemet ha-’Amim, p. 568.

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  103   68 Ruppin, Memoirs, Diaries, Letters, p. 172.   69 On the NILI spy network, see Engle, The NILI Spies; Goldstone, Aaronsohn’s Maps; Florence, Lawrence and Aaronsohn; Auron, The Banality of Indifference; Anderson, Lawrence in Arabia.   70 This event was then reported in Aaron Aaronsohn’s diary. However, there is no evidence this event ever occurred: Efrati, The Aaronsohn Diary, 1916–1919, 19 April 1917. In the translation of the diary (Verrier, Agents of Empire, p. 255), Aaronsohn wrote on 19 April in Port Said: “I heard of the looting (plunder) of Jewish of Jaffa. Two Yemenites hung on trees are all the Jews that remained in the city.”   71 A very interesting work on the British–Zionist alliance that discusses propaganda, and how the juxtaposition of the Armenian genocide of the 1915 with the fate of the Jews in Palestine was a common theme to claim the Ottomans intended to wipe out the Jewish population, is James Renton, The Zionist Masquerade.   72 These events are fairly well chronicled by Anderson, Lawrence in Arabia, pp. 298–302.   73 TNA, PRO, FO 371/3055, Sykes to Graham, 28 April 1917.   74 TNA, PRO, FO 371/3055, Jewish Chronicle, London, 4 May 1917.   75 TNA, PRO, FO 141/746/3, J. Mosseri, P. Pascal, Dr. W. Alexander to Graham, 11 May 1917.   76 New Zealand Herald, 13 August 1917.   77 New York Times, 3 June 1917.   78 Corriere della Sera, 21 May 1917.   79 A good overview of the German and Austrian press is in Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, pp. 358–59.   80 Frankfurter Zeitung, 1 June 1917.   81 Press cuttings covering the situation of the evacuated Jews of Palestine are available at CZA, Z3/83, and CZA, Z3/84. Some documents available in CZA, Z3/82, suggest that the Germans and the Ottomans established funds to support the Jewish refugees and that they tried to publicize this through both the German press and Jewish newspapers.   82 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 162.   83 Ibid. Reports are also available at AGAE, Carnet 0109/07, 43034.   84 TNA, PRO, FO 371/3055, British Ambassador to Balfour, Madrid, 19 June 1917. Other reports are available in AGAE, Carnet 0109/07, 43034.   85 CZA, Z3/82, Central Zionist Office, Berlin, 20 June 1917: The former American consul in Jerusalem, Dr. Glazebrook, stopped by in Constantinople on his way back to America and told a representative of the Zionist Organization there that no atrocities were committed against Jews during the evacuation of Jaffa. He said that Turkish officials did not commit any attacks and that the suffering of the Jews was due to the lack of food, water, transportation, and new places to stay. See also TNA: PRO, FO 371/3055, Townley to Balfour, The Hague, 10 August 1917.   86 ATO Archives, 41/93/2, Box 1, O. Glazebrook, “Turks Not So Bad,” January 1925 (it is likely that this article was published in New Jersey, where Glazebrook was resident).   87 NARA, RG 84, Vol. 399, report to the Swedish Minister of Foreign Affairs, 25 August 1917.   88 Ben-Hillel Hacohen, Milhemet ha-’Amim, p. 623.

104  Roberto Mazza   89 Reinkowski, “Late Ottoman Rule over Palestine,” p. 88. While Arab historiography also presented a very negative picture of Djemal Pasha’s rule, the evacuation of Jaffa has often been discussed in brief and without detail.   90 Engle, The NILI Spies, p. 116.   91 Pappe, A History of Modern Palestine, p. 63.   92 Tom Segev, “When Tel Aviv Was a Wilderness,” Haaretz, 3 April 2009.   93 Nadav Shragai, “Thousands Simply Got up and Left,” Haaretz, 12 September 2007.   94 Lenny Ben-David, “Did a German Officer Prevent a Massacre of the Jews of Eretz Yisrael during World War I?,” Jerusalem Post Magazine, 9 December 2011.   95 Larry Domnitch, “Forgotten: 1917 Jewish Refugees,” Arutz Sheva, 12 April 2011.   96 Nir Hasson, “Constantinople’s Little-Known Rift with its Reps in Ottoman Palestine,” Haaretz, 27 June 2014.   97 Tel Aviv-Yafo Municipality, http://tel-aviv.millenium.org.il/NR/exeres/8880BD2AA3BA-442A-82E4-54A1008DD492,frameless.htm [in Hebrew].   98 Auron, The Banality of Indifference, p. 75.   99 Ben-Bassat, “Enciphered Ottoman Telegrams from the First World War concerning the Yishuv in Palestine,” pp. 279–81. 100 Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 110. 101 Dündar, Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi, pp. 388–96. 102 CZA, General Report, 27 May 1917; NARA, T120, Roll 4333, Turkey 195, Brode to AA, 5 April 1917.

References and bibliography Adelman, J., The Rise of Israel: A History of a Revolutionary State. Abingdon: Routledge, 2008. Akçam, T., The Young Turk’s Crime against Humanity. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2012. Alroey, G., “Exiles in their own Land? The Case of the Jews of Tel Aviv and Jaffa who were Expelled to the Lower Galilee, 1917–1918,” Cathedra, no. 120 (2006): 135–60 [in Hebrew]. Anderson, S., Lawrence in Arabia. New York: Doubleday, 2013. Antébi, E., L’Homme du sérail. Paris: NiL, 1996. Atay, F. R., Le Mont des Oliviers. Levallois-Perret: Turquoise, 2009. Auron, Y., The Banality of Indifference. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction, 2000. Benbassa, E., “Le Sionisme dans l’Empire Ottoman à l’aube du 20e siècle,” Vingtième Siècle: Revue d’Histoire 24 (1989): 69–80. Ben-Bassat, Y., “Enciphered Ottoman Telegrams from the First World War concerning the Yishuv in Palestine,” Turcica 46 (2015): 279–99. —— Petitioning the Sultan: Protests and Justice in Late Ottoman Palestine. London: I. B. Tauris, 2013. Ben-Bassat, Y., and Ginio, E. (eds), Late Ottoman Palestine: The Period of Young Turk Rule. London: I. B. Tauris, 2011. Ben-Hillel Hacohen, M., Milhemet ha-‘Amim [War among Nations], Vol. 2, Jerusalem: Yad Izhak Ben Zvi Institute, 1984 [in Hebrew]. Ben-Zvi, Y., “Djemal Pasha,” American Jewish Chronicle 3/4 (1917): 104. Blumberg, A., Zion before Zionism, 1838–1880. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1985. Bruce, A., The Last Crusade. London: John Murray, 2002.

Djemal Pasha, Zionism, and the evacuation of Jaffa  105 Campos, M., Ottoman Brothers: Muslims, Christians, and Jews in early Twentieth-Century Palestine. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2011. Çiçek, M. T., War and State Formation in Syria: Cemal Pasha’s Governorate during World War I, 1914–1917. London: Routledge, 2014. Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I: The Palestine Diary of a European Diplomat, ed. R. Mazza and E. Manzano Moreno. London: I. B. Tauris, 2011. Dane, E., British Campaigns in the Nearer East, 1914–1918. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1919. Djemal Pasha, Memories of a Turkish Statesman, 1913–1919. London: Hutchinson, 1922. Dündar, F., Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi. Istanbul: Iletişim Yayınları, 2008. Efrati, Y. (ed.), The Aaronsohn Diary, 1916–1919. Tel Aviv: Karni, 1970 [in Hebrew]. Engle, A., The NILI Spies. London: Frank Cass, 1959. Erickson, E. J., Ordered to Die: A History of the Ottoman Army in the First World War. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2001. Falls, C., Military Operations, Egypt and Palestine, Vols 1–2. London: HMSO, 1928. Fishman, L., “Understanding the 1911 Ottoman Parliament Debate on Zionism in Light of the Emergence of a ‘Jewish Question,’” in Y. Ben-Bassat and E. Ginio (eds), Late Ottoman Palestine: the Period of Young Turk Rule. London: I. B. Tauris, 2011. —— “Palestine Revisited: Reassessing the Jewish and Arab National Movements, 1908–14,” PhD dissertation, University of Chicago, 2007. Florence, R., Lawrence and Aaronsohn. London: Penguin, 2007. Friedman, I., Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, 1897–1918. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977. Gelvin, J., Divided Loyalties. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1998. Goldstone, P., Aaronsohn’s Maps. Orlando, FL: Harcourt, 2007. Hanioğlu, M. Ş., A Brief History of the Late Ottoman Empire. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008. Harvey, Z. W., et al., Zion and Zionism among Sephardi and Oriental Jews. Jerusalem: Misgav Yerushalayim, 2002 [in Hebrew]. Herzl, T., The Jewish State (Der Judenstaat). New Orleans: Quid Pro Books, [1896] 2014 [available at www.mideastweb.org]. Hughes, M., Allenby and British Strategy in the Middle East, 1917–1919. London: Frank Cass, 1999. Jacobson, A., From Empire to Empire: Jerusalem between Ottoman and British Rule. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 2011. Jawhariyyeh, W., The Storyteller of Jerusalem: The Life and Times of Wasif Jawhariyyeh, 1904–1948, ed. S. Tamari and I. Nassar. Northampton, MA: Olive Branch Press, 2014. Kayalı, H., Arabs and Young Turks: Ottomanism, Arabism, and Islamism in the Ottoman Empire, 1908–1918. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997. Khalidi, R., et al., The Origins of Arab Nationalism. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993. Laqueur, W., A History of Zionism. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1972. Lemire, V., Jérusalem 1900: la ville sainte à l’âge des possibles. Paris: Armand Colin, 2013. LeVine, M., Overthrowing Geography: Jaffa, Tel Aviv, and the Struggle for Palestine, 1880–1948. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005. Levy, A. (ed.), The Jews of the Ottoman Empire. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1994. Mandel, N. J., The Arabs and Zionism before World War I. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976. Ma’oz, M., Ottoman Reforms in Syria and Palestine. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968.

106  Roberto Mazza Mazza, R., Jerusalem from the Ottomans to the British. London: I. B. Tauris, 2009. McCarthy, J., The Ottoman Turks: An Introductory History to 1923. Harlow: Pearson, 1997. McMeekin, S., The Berlin–Baghdad Express: The Ottoman Empire and Germany’s Bid for World Power. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 2010. Ortaylı, I., “Ottomanism and Zionism during the Second Constitutional Period, 1908–1915,” in A. Levy (ed.), The Jews of the Ottoman Empire. Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1994. Pappe, I., A History of Modern Palestine: One Land, Two Peoples. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Provence, M., The Great Syrian Revolt and the Rise of Arab Nationalism. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2005. Reinkowski, M., “Late Ottoman Rule over Palestine: Its Evaluation in Arab, Turkish and Israeli Histories, 1970–90,” Middle Eastern Studies 35/1 (1999): 66–97. Renton, J., The Zionist Masquerade: The Birth of the Anglo-Zionist Alliance, 1914–1918. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007. Ruppin, A., Arthur Ruppin: Memoirs, Diaries, Letters, ed. A. Bein. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1971. Sachar, H. M., A History of Israel from the Rise of Zionism to our Time. 3rd ed., New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2010. Saposnik, B. A., Becoming Hebrew: The Creation of a Jewish National Culture in Ottoman Palestine. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Schama, S., Two Rothschilds and the Land of Israel. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1980 [in Hebrew]. Shapira, A., Israel: A History. Lebanon, NH: Brandeis University Press, 2012. Sheffy, Y., British Military Intelligence in the Palestine Campaign, 1914–1918. London: Frank Cass, 1998. Shissler, H. A., Between Two Empires: Ahmet Ağaoğlu and the New Turkey. London: I. B. Tauris, 2003. Tamari, S., Mountain against the Sea. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008. Tauber, E., The Emergence of the Arab Movements. London: Frank Cass, 1993. Verrier, A., Agents of Empire. London: Brassey’s, 1995. Wavell, A. P., Allenby, Soldier and Statesman. London: Harrap, 1946 Weltmann, S. E., “Germany, Turkey, and the Zionist Movement, 1914–1918,” Review of Politics 23/2 (1961): 246–69. Zionist Organization, Palestine during the War: Being a Record of the Preservation of the Jewish Settlements in Palestine. London: Zionist Organization, 1921.

5 The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement during the first months of World War I1 Hilmar Kaiser

Historians discussing Ottoman–Zionist relations during the early months of World War I relied primarily on the Zionist movement’s records, as well as Western diplomatic dispatches, while utilizing few if any Ottoman records. In his groundbreaking study on the period, Isaiah Friedman argued that Ottoman–Zionist relations had initially been reasonably good. They deteriorated significantly, however, following the appointment of a new sub-district governor to Jaffa. Allegedly, Bahaeddin Bey succeeded in instigating the powerful military commander of the region, Ahmed Djemal Pasha, against the Zionist movement. According to Friedman, the Fourth Army commander entertained xenophobic ideas which were coupled with Islamist passion. The Ottoman central authorities appeared not have shared Djemal Pasha’s views but, nevertheless, accepted the claims of the Jaffa governor following his return to Istanbul. Before his mission to Jaffa, Bahaeddin Bey had experienced the Ottoman defeat in the Balkans. Thus, he was receptive to overtures from Arab members of the Ottoman Parliament who were scheming against the Zionist movement. The latter had convinced the sub-district governor that Jewish immigration was detrimental to the Ottoman government’s interests.2 In a recent study on Ottoman population policy, Fuat Dündar offered an alternative to the conspiracy theory. Discussing Ottoman strategies in regard to Zionist settlement projects in Palestine, he argued that the expulsion of Jewish enemy aliens was a “demographic” operation. In other words, the Jews formed an integral part of an Ottoman government agenda which targeted several non-Turkish communities. M. Talha Çiçek challenged this view in a study on Syria during World War I which analyzed Djemal Pasha’s policy and its impact on various communities. Çiçek argued that the Fourth Army commander “aimed at the control of Zionist activities, rather than any Turkification of Palestine inspired by ethnic engineering.” Instead, he sought to centralize the administration by eliminating communal intermediaries, including Zionist leaders, from local power structures.3 The current chapter will focus on the claim that Muslim fervor had been a driving force behind Djemal Pasha’s actions. Furthermore, it will demonstrate that no fundamental conflict evolved between the Ottoman central authorities and the Fourth Army command over the latter’s measures in regard to the Jewish population in Palestine. The start of hostilities in Europe in August 1914 provides a suitable point of departure for the discussion, as this momentous event afforded

108  Hilmar Kaiser new political leverage to the Ottoman authorities. The Allied landing at Gallipoli and the arrest of Istanbul’s Armenian community leadership on 24–5 April 1915, on the other hand, marked a decisive turning point in Ottoman government strategies and Western responses to it. Both the German and United States embassies in Istanbul came to understand that the Ottoman leadership had by that time defined its response to Zionism.

Ottoman views on the Zionist movement in 1914 In early May 1914, an emissary of the Ministry of the Interior’s “Directorate for Public Security” [Emniyet-i Umumiye Müdüriyeti] (EUM) had arrived in Jerusalem. After touring the city and inspecting sites connected with the Jewish community, he went to the Grand New Hotel, where he wrote a long report for his superiors in the Ottoman capital. First he provided a short religious and historic overview explaining the significance of the city to the Jewish community worldwide. Unlike in times past, however, some Jews were no longer simply waiting for the arrival of their prophet. These Jewish nationalists, the most influential among whom were known as Zionists, took a proactive approach in trying to bring as much land as possible under their control. They trusted that ownership would result in authority to rule. Before his visit to Jerusalem, the official had read the published decisions of the Zionist congresses deliberating this point. Thus, he studied the local Zionist organization and observed that Jewish neighborhood committees were implementing this movement’s decisions. Highly pleased with his findings, he enthusiastically reported that his positive experiences exceeded his expectations. In short, he had found all he had been hoping for. Disappointingly, however, local officials were “sleeping” and unaware of what was going on around them. In fact, Zionist representatives were going about their business right next to Ottoman court houses. The judicial organization, the municipality, the departments of Public Works and Finance, the postal officials, and the security officers were all blind. They had no idea what was going on. At the same time the central government trusted them, believing that they would carry out their duties properly. The official warned that, every single day, foreigners were taking more control of the country: Jewish efforts to establish a government were not sentimental, disorganized, or childish, as their perseverance showed. He stressed that, during three thousand years of exile, Jews had avoided assimilation and were still striving to establish an independent state, and he believed that this resistance to blend in with other populations had been a cause of the anti-Jewish views expressed by nationalists in Europe. After all, anti-Semitism had become official policy in Russia and Romania and was also religiously motivated, as Jews had killed Jesus. The resulting discrimination had convinced Jews that their only salvation would be the establishment of their own state in Palestine. The official warned that the challenge should not be taken lightly – on the contrary, it should be feared. He hoped that his detailed report would wake up the government. In closing, he sent his greetings to an official at the EUM with whom he was on friendly terms: Bahaeddin Bey.4

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  109 The Ottoman government had been concerned for quite some time about Jewish immigration to Palestine. On 23 May 1914, Ali Munif Bey, the Deputy Minister of the Interior, ordered the authorities at Beirut and Jerusalem to prevent the immigration of Jews. According to information from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the latter were trying to reach Palestine in great numbers for political purposes. Even if the arrivals carried Ottoman passports, the authorities had to stop them. The governor of Jerusalem district, Madjid Bey, replied that the majority of Russian Jews arriving from Odessa had obtained their visas at the Ottoman consulate in Trieste. Accordingly, they were permitted to stay for three months. Authorities at Jaffa, however, reported that many Jews had arrived without visas and managed to obtain them locally. In response, the Ministry of the Interior ordered an investigation and the punishment of corrupt officials and other offenders, urging that the instructions be fully implemented. Madjid Bey assured his superiors that he had given the necessary instructions and that an investigation had begun. For the time being, the Ministry of the Interior permitted those who had obtained a three-month visa to remain for the specified period of time, but no extensions were to be allowed. As it turned out, expelling the unwanted visitors after the expiration of their visas proved to be rather difficult, as they had no intention of leaving Palestine. Since the alleged “tourists” were foreign subjects, the authorities at Jerusalem were concerned that their deportation could trigger protests by foreign consuls, and so they proposed to secure the consular officials’ cooperation. In other words, while maintaining that they were complying with their orders, the Jerusalem authorities made it clear that they would not implement the measures. The Ministry of the Interior rejected the idea of consular assistance. At Haifa harbor, local police officials had understood what was expected from them, and they refused to allow Russian Jews to disembark, even though they had visas from the Ottoman consulate at Odessa. Yet the predictions of the Jerusalem district authorities proved correct, and diplomatic pressure at Istanbul secured the arrivals’ disembarkation. Steps to impede Jewish land acquisitions through intermediaries such as merchant houses were a second Ottoman counter-measure targeting the Zionist movement. Again, the scheme’s implementation proved to be difficult.5 On 15 August 1915, Ali Munif repeated that the decisions concerning Jewish immigrants in Palestine, their organization, and related matters had to be followed to the letter. The reiteration of the previous orders was an implicit admission that the government’s plans had produced little result so far. Local authorities also had to prevent the arming of Jews and seize those weapons which could be found. In case of resistance, the offenders had to be tried by courts martial. Once again, Madjid Bey assured his superiors that all orders were being fully implemented. He added, however, that the Jewish community was not causing any problems. While it was beyond doubt that nationalist thoughts were present among the Jews, there were no visible movements against the government or the law. In fact, the Jewish community was supporting the Ottoman government. It had even donated a check for more than 10,000 francs towards the nascent Ottoman air force. Those with foreign passports among them were willing to become Ottoman subjects. The

110  Hilmar Kaiser authorities neither anticipated nor deemed it possible that Jews in Palestine would use arms in an attempt to disturb public security. Yet some locals were denouncing Jews in the name of obscure organizations. The real trouble-makers were these hostile individuals who tried to stir up Arab–Jewish tensions, who had some impact on both the population and newly recruited soldiers. Thus, the division commander addressed the public in a speech in an attempt to stop the agitators. Madjid Bey believed that the measures taken were effective. The authorities were determined that no Arab–Jewish problem would emerge akin to the Arab–Turkish problem in Syria province. Moreover, 500,000 soldiers were in the area to guarantee public security. In order to search for weapons and prevent the arming of the Jewish population of about 100,000, the majority of whom were foreign subjects, military forces were necessary. Madjid Bey warned that, although such an operation might cause public anxiety and create a bad impression abroad, he would carry out the order. He rejected suspicions that he was underestimating the danger the Zionist movement posed. On the contrary, he believed that what he called “the Jewish invasion of the country” could become a real threat, and he therefore proposed a law prohibiting Jewish immigration to Palestine and land purchases. The war in Europe offered the government a favorable opportunity to pass such legislation. After all, the United States, Australia, and the United Kingdom had banned the immigration of Japanese, Chinese, and Indians to their respective countries. The district governor’s explanations did not convince Bahaeddin Bey, the director of the EUM’s Eighth Department, who sent a highly critical letter to Madjid Bey. In response, the governor questioned the department director’s authority while defending his record. Apparently, the earlier warning of Bahaeddin Bey’s friend had not been in vain.6

Bahaeddin Bey at Jaffa Bahaeddin Bey was a recognized expert in security matters who at time headed both the EUM’s Fourth and Eighth Departments. On 1 September 1914, the Ottoman High Command ordered his transfer to the General Staff’s military intelligence section. The Ministry of the Interior, however, insisted on keeping him at the EUM. His expertise was needed because, following the Ottoman government’s unilateral abrogation of the Capitulations on 9 September 1914, the government felt free to implement a more assertive policy against the Zionist movement. One measure was the appointment on 8 October 1915 of Bahaeddin Bey as sub-district governor of Jaffa, a posting that was a cover for his real assignment. At the time Ottoman Empire was preparing an attack on Russia and British-controlled Egypt. At Jaffa, the new governor was in charge of intelligence operations and the preparations of the upcoming campaign against Egypt. Obviously, the assignment must have been top secret. The step was also likely to create problems for the civil administration in Jerusalem district, as Madjid Bey and the new Jaffa governor were not on good terms with each other.7 Upon arrival at his new post, Bahaeddin Bey made no secret about his views on Zionism. Even Minister of the Interior Talat Bey knew about the official’s

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  111 strong views and described him as a fanatic. During a meeting with members of the local Administrative Council, Bahaeddin Bey used the occasion to announce his political program. The delegation included also Jewish community leaders. In what might be considered an effort to please Arab public opinion, the new subdistrict governor announced that he would undermine Jewish colonization work and expel all non-Ottoman Jews. Giving his threat more weight, he informed his guests about his previous position at the EUM, where he had been in charge of Jewish affairs. Bahaeddin Bey added that he had studied the Zionist movement and understood the threat it posed. He also revealed that he was the person who had drafted Ottoman regulations blocking Jewish immigration to Palestine. Finally, he exclaimed that he would prevent the creation of a Jewish state in Palestine. The Jewish community leaders concluded that Bahaeddin Bey had been dispatched to Jaffa for the implementation of a comprehensive program.8 At first, Bahaeddin Bey focused on the immigration of Jews at Jaffa, as local authorities had previously disregarded their orders. Now, those authorities were making disembarkation difficult even for residents who had lived in the town for a decade or more but were not Ottoman citizens. Some could stay only by guaranteeing to leave within three months. Soon, the authorities targeted Ottoman subjects as well. On 25 October 1914, Bahaeddin Bey refused landing to about one hundred Jews from Yemen and forced them to return to Egypt. As they were Ottoman subjects, the British authorities in Alexandria sent them back to Jaffa, where Bahaeddin Bey had them interned for several days. Following the declarations of war, the sub-district governor profited from the situation and seized for his personal use a private house owned by a British subject. His measures came at a time when the action committee of the World Zionist Organization was trying to consolidate some of the gains the movement had made in recent years. Joseph Loewy, an engineer and Zionist leader from Palestine, submitted a proposal for the creation by Jewish colonists of a gendarmerie. The Ottoman government was to endorse and bestow its authority upon the new organization. Loewy claimed that Arab assaults on Jewish colonies were more than likely during wartime. Similarly, plundering and massacres should be anticipated. An Ottoman officer should command the gendarmerie while the Jewish colonies would finance uniforms and modern weapons. The existing Zionist guard organization, called Hashomer, would form the core of the new force. Despite their comparably small size, the units would be superior to the ill-equipped Arab “hordes.” The new force would operate in the area where Jewish colonies existed––in other words, the larger part of Palestine including all Muslim settlements. On closer observation, the project was not much more than an attempt to legalize and expand the reach and authority of the existing armed wing of the Zionist movement. The proposal implied the transfer of state authority to the Zionist organization and would have put parts of the Arab population under Zionist policing. Not surprisingly, however, the Ottoman authorities dismissed the danger of large-scale outrages against Zionists and the need for the Hashomer. Meanwhile, Bahaeddin Bey intensified his crackdown on Jewish communal infrastructure, closing schools and a bank. Arthur Ruppin, who headed the Zionist

112  Hilmar Kaiser “Palestine Office,” believed that it was only the intervention of the Jerusalem governor Madjid Bey that had prevented the closure of the Jewish High School [Gymnasium]. The institution served also as a home for about 150 children. In fact, it seemed that Jaffa’s sub-district governor had been overstepping his authority when he closed down the Alliance Israélite schools. Talat Bey made it clear that the measure was contrary to the cabinet’s decision. He also inquired about the closing of another school.9 On 5 November 1915, the Ottoman authorities took action against the Hashomer. The military occupied Jaffa’s Jewish suburbs and subjected the area to a curfew. Under the direction of Bahaeddin Bey, the security forces searched houses, confiscated papers, and extorted money from the inhabitants. Zionist colonies had to surrender their arms. Because they did not surrender a specified number of guns, they were forced to purchase additional rifles from Muslims at a steep price. During the search for arms, the authorities also cordoned off a Zionist agricultural school for 48 hours, but found nothing. Unlike the Zionist colonies, Muslim villages in the area were allowed to keep their weapons. The authorities also created a new militia at Jaffa. In a reversal of the Hashomer’s plan, the organization was specifically designed to control Jewish settlements along the coast and in the interior. Once more, Madjid Bey tried to impede an anti-Zionist measure and argued that there was no need for the new organization. At Istanbul, the campaign had raised concerns. The German ambassador, Hans Von Wangenheim, warned Talat Bey that the measures would have a negative impact on international public opinion. He had also instructed the German consul general at Jerusalem, Edmund Schmidt, to impress on Madjid Bey that a policy that was accommodating towards the Jewish population would have an important impact on public opinion in the United States. The Germans attributed the new militia primarily to Bahaeddin Bey’s anti-Zionist stance. Thus, the Jaffa authorities disregarded the applications by young Jewish men to join the new force and accepted as militiamen Muslims working in the harbor, whom they sometimes armed with weapons confiscated from the Zionist colonies. The new recruits, however, enjoyed a questionable reputation. Moreover, the authorities levied a special tax of 120 liras on the Jewish population of Jaffa and the Zionist colonies in order to finance the project. Equally worrying was the declaration of Jaffa’s military commander, Hasan Bey, that the government would not allow Jews to “steal” Muslim soil. The officer had arrived at his post at about the same time as the new sub-district governor. For his part, Bahaeddin Bey explained to Arab villagers that the land owned by a Jewish farm had belonged to their ancestors, adding that it would be returned to them. On another occasion, he encouraged Muslim villagers who were disputing the land titles of Zionist colonies. Often such claimants filed accusations against colonists, denouncing the alleged sale of grain to enemy war ships off the coast. Although the accusations turned out to be false, they triggered investigations and searches which interrupted work on the plantations. Soon, there was a change in the social climate, and some Arabs began to debate how to distribute the Zionist settlers’ land and wives among themselves. In view of the situation, Madjid Bey filed complaints against the Jaffa sub-district governor, but the criticism had no discernible impact. Madjid Bey’s opposition to

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  113 Bahaeddin Bey, however, was also an expression of his own pecuniary interests. In one case, the Spanish consul bribed Madjid Bey so that he would prevent the sub-district governor’s takeover of foreign institutions in Jaffa. On a different level, Madjid Bey used his close association with the Spanish official in an effort to secure Bahaeddin Bey’s removal from Jaffa. How bad relations were between the two Ottoman governors became apparent when Bahaeddin Bey denounced his superior at Jerusalem as a lying “canaille.”10 Meanwhile, the Beirut governor, Bekir Sami Bey, under whose jurisdiction Haifa and areas in northern Palestine fell, wondered if he should expel Russian Jews from so-called exclusion areas.11 At Jaffa, the authorities’ campaign was partly successful, as increasing numbers of Jewish immigrants left the country. Bahaeddin Bey also targeted naturalized Jewish residents or those who were planning to become naturalized. When a Mr. Blumenfeld, a prominent Zionist, returned from Europe, the authorities refused his wife entry. Her husband assured officials that she would also apply for Ottoman citizenship, but Bahaeddin Bey replied: “We do not need such Ottomans; you may also depart.” The statement was a signal that the Ottoman authorities did not welcome the naturalization of Jews. This was critical, as naturalization was the last legal avenue left to thousands of foreign Jews, especially those who were enemy aliens, in order to legalize their presence in Palestine. The process was very slow, as the officer in charge of the local registry could process only a limited number of naturalization applications per day. The Jewish community and Zionist organization therefore proposed that their representatives assist in streamlining the paperwork, an offer which the authorities declined. At Istanbul, Talat Bey became increasingly concerned about the campaign’s political repercussions, aggravated by the strained relations between Bahaeddin Bey and Madjid Bey. The sub-district governor had crossed a red line when he took action against German Jews, and Talat Bey anticipated strong German protests which might force him to recall the sub-district governor. In an attempt to preempt a diplomatic incident, he suggested that Djemal Pasha might employ Bahaeddin Bey in his retinue.12 The projected transfer, however, did not indicate that the Ottoman government was backtracking in its policy. In fact, it had ordered a review of the situation in Palestine and the whole issue of Russian immigration. A special commission drafted new administrative guidelines stipulating that the application of Russian Jews for Ottoman citizenship had to be accepted. It was no longer a requirement that an applicant had to have lived for at least five years in the country; they merely had to provide detailed information about their previous residence in their country of origin and the time spent in the Ottoman Empire. Local authorities had to determine whether male applicants were Ottoman subjects in order to profit from a one-year military service exemption granted to new subjects. Applicants were not allowed to apply for protection to foreign consuls. On 13 December 1914, the Ottoman government decided that Jewish enemy aliens had to become Ottoman subjects. Those who did not apply within ten days following the public announcement of the decision had to leave the country. The new instructions, however, met with opposition within the Ottoman state apparatus. Djemal Pasha

114  Hilmar Kaiser opposed both the stay of enemy aliens in Palestine and their departure from the Ottoman Empire and advocated their eviction to the interior. He argued that, since he was about to deploy troops for an attack on the Suez Canal, enemy aliens were a security threat, as they might engage in espionage.13

17 December 1914 Madjid Bey forwarded the new instructions to Jaffa, where Bahaeddin Bey acted promptly. On 17 December 1914, a public crier announced that all foreigners residing in Jaffa had to register with the authorities within eight days. Those who failed to do so would be punished by court martial. Word also spread that Jews who were enemy aliens and who had failed to apply for their naturalization had to leave the country immediately. The streets were patrolled by security forces, who detained anyone they could seize––men, women, and children––who had no valid Ottoman identification papers on them. For the moment, the authorities kept the detainees at an open area in Jaffa’s Tel-Aviv suburb. Families were separated and parents were not allowed to search for their children. Bahaeddin Bey used the occasion for a second attempt to close the Jewish High School, and the authorities ordered the 150 orphans living in the institution to prepare for their departure. An Italian steamer was to arrive at Jaffa at 4 p.m. At about 5 p.m. the authorities sent approximately one thousand people to the harbor, where their money and valuables were confiscated. The sub-district governor supervised the entire operation and claimed that the funds thus seized were being used to finance the people’s deportation. In this way, between 500 and 800 detainees embarked on the Italian ship. When the ship’s captain refused to accept any more, those remaining, including the orphans of the Jewish High School, were allowed to return to their homes late that night.14 Bahaeddin Bey’s timing could not have been worse. On the very same day he initiated the deportations, Talat Bey warned Djemal Pasha that a transfer of naturalized Russian Jews would turn the worldwide Jewish community, especially those in the United States, against the Ottoman government. Thus, the central authorities insisted that the Fourth Army reported on any decision before its implementation so that the government could inform foreign embassies accordingly. Talat Bey’s assessment was correct: the Zionist leadership reacted instantly to news about the deportations. Ruppin alerted Richard Lichtheim, the World Zionist Organization’s representative in Istanbul, and made representations to the German and United States embassies. Later in the afternoon, Ruppin visited Bahaeddin Bey and tried to convince him to cancel the operation. When this failed, the Zionist leader traveled to Jerusalem the following day. But the district authorities refused to intervene and advised Ruppin to appeal to Djemal Pasha in Damascus. Meanwhile, the religious head of the Jewish community at Jerusalem filed a strong complaint with Madjid Bey. He also cabled Djemal Pasha and demanded Bahaeddin Bey’s punishment. At Istanbul, Ambassador Wangenheim told Lichtheim that Djemal Pasha was a fanatic who was doing “stupid things” and ordered Dr. Theodor Weber, the embassy’s dragoman, to complain officially

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  115 to Talat Bey. The embassy also contacted the German consulate at Jaffa. The latter reported that, while Djemal Pasha had ordered the removal of all Russian Jews from port cities, Bahaeddin Bey had apparently interpreted this as permission to expel people from the country. When Wangenheim met with Talat Bey, the latter agreed to stop deportations from Jaffa. Lichtheim also approached the US ambassador, Henry Morgenthau, who was a personal friend. The latter estimated that the Ottoman authorities had deported about 600 Jews. The USS Tennessee transported about 500 Jews from Jaffa to Egypt in an effort to reunite families that had been torn apart. Following these diplomatic representations, Talat Bey ascertained what had happened. Madjid Bey provided a drastic summary of events, not concealing his strong criticism of Bahaeddin Bey. For his part, however, Djemal Pasha made it clear that the Bahaeddin Bey was, at the very least, incompetent, if not worse. He had already requested the official’s removal; now he made his recall a matter of urgency. When Ruppin arrived at Damascus, Djemal Pasha refused to see him. Instead, his chief of staff received the visitor and informed him that all Russians had to become Ottoman subjects or leave the country. As a show of their good will, the authorities were willing to reduce transaction fees for naturalizations. Upon his return to Jerusalem, Ruppin noted in his diary that he had seen again how several Jews had left Palestine. The expulsions had done serious damage to the Zionist project. Nevertheless, he conceded that the Ottoman authorities were simply doing what all other states at war were doing. In fact, he considered overall that the Ottoman government’s measures were milder and more decent. Still, this policy caused many hardships. Ruppin stressed that the Zionist movement had lost in a few days more settlers than it had won through years of immigration.15 Following the diplomatic representations, on 19 December 1914, the Ministry of the Interior reassigned Bahaeddin Bey to his former position as director of the EUM’s Eighth Department. However, he did not return to Istanbul but took up intelligence work with the Fourth Army’s general staff at Damascus.16 Within days, the anti-Zionist campaign appeared to gain new momentum. On the evening of 25 December 1914, Lichtheim went to see Morgenthau, who was asleep, and was shown by his wife a telegram from the United States consulate at Jerusalem. The document stated that on 19 December 1914 the Fourth Army had ordered all enemy aliens to leave country by 28 December 1914. In other words, Djemal Pasha had published instructions in line with the Ministry of the Interior’s manual of 13 December 1914. The next day, Lichtheim and his colleague Dr. Victor Jacobson saw Morgenthau, who introduced them to the Italian ambassador, Camillo Garroni. The latter approached Talat Bey, who promised to stop any pending deportations. Indeed, the Ministry of the Interior gave stringent orders to Jerusalem district to this effect and copied the substance of its orders to the Fourth Army command.17 Madjid Bey claimed that Bahaeddin Bey had incited Djemal Pasha to order that all Jewish enemy aliens had to leave Palestine by 2 January 1915. If anyone remained, the military would hold Madjid Bey responsible. The district governor made it clear that it was impossible to expel 15,000 to 20,000 Jews within four

116  Hilmar Kaiser days, even though he was attempting to do so, and he obtained an extension of the deadline to 9 January 1915 in order to secure sufficient capacity on steamers. After this date, it would be impossible to leave Jaffa by sea, as the military would close the port. For its part, the Ministry of the Interior ordered an extension of the deadline by a month, which the district authorities naturally complied with. At the same time, however, Madjid Bey had to follow orders from the military, since the district was situated within the war zone. As the orders of the Ministry of the Interior and those of the Fourth Army contradicted each other, the district governor requested definitive orders from Istanbul. It was also unclear how the authorities could deport those enemy aliens who had no funds for their travel. Madjid Bey reminded his superiors that he was under intense pressure from consular and other representations. Questioning the entire deportation policy, he pointed out that, so far, not a single Jew had demonstrated any abusive behavior. Talat Bey reminded Djemal Pasha of the Ottoman government’s decision concerning the naturalization of Jewish enemy aliens. He also stressed that the Ministry of the Interior had extended the deadline for naturalization applications from ten days, as stipulated by the government’s manual, to one month. Moreover, the exemption of poor applicants from paying the naturalization fee had led to a considerable increase in work for officials, since the latter had to study all exemption requests. In sum, the Fourth Army’s recent order contradicted central government policy. Thus, Talat Bey asked the Fourth Army commander to comply with the central government’s decisions. In response, Djemal Pasha assured the minister that he was acting in line with official policy. The whole affair was an intrigue on the part of Madjid Bey, who had been lying and duplicitous. The next day, Madjid Bey left his post. His resignation had already been accepted some time earlier. It was clear that he could not stay in the city pending the arrival of the Fourth Army commander.18 Meanwhile, Abdullah Bey, a public prosecutor at a Court of Appeals, had concluded a further review of Zionist activities in Palestine. On 3 January 1915, he submitted a memorandum to the Ministry of the Interior’s Special Department, stating that earlier investigations had not been professionally conducted. Because of the Capitulations regime, officials had relied on information from individuals who were not well acquainted with Jewish organizations. Under this system, the Ottoman authorities had faced serious difficulties in executing house searches and conducting surveillance of private meeting places belonging to foreign subjects. In short, the Zionist movement in Palestine had remained largely beyond the reach of the authorities. Consequently, the officials had very little knowledge about ongoing activities. Following the abrogation of the Capitulations, house searches generated more material which made it clear that the Zionist colonies had remained outside the Ottoman administrative structure. For instance, the local authorities lacked precise information on the colonies’ population. Abdullah Bey thought that there were perhaps as many as 100,000 people. And, apparently, the colonies had their own legal system: although it was natural that legal disputes would arise among a large population, no case had been filed with the courts at Jaffa. Instead, Jewish political and societal organizations served as the local judiciary and followed their own rules. In response, Abdullah Bey suggested extending

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  117 Ottoman administration by performing a census and ensuring that only Ottoman law was applied. Understanding that many colonists had little interaction with Ottoman society and did not know local languages, he proposed the appointment of a judge who would know the necessary languages. This, in other words, would promote the integration of the colonists into Ottoman society. The creation of an independent legal system was not the only Zionist encroachment on Ottoman state functions. The colonists had created their own postal service in Palestine using stamps that resembled official ones. This was illegal under Ottoman law, but the penal code stipulated only mild penalties. Abdullah Bey therefore recommended new regulations which would impose heavy fines on offenders. His memorandum was a judicious analysis of the causes of the administration’s previous failures and of the current situation. The public prosecutor’s views were far from echoing the political convictions of a person such as Bahaeddin Bey. Nor did he employ an Islamist discourse.19 Meanwhile, Djemal Pasha targeted the Zionist infrastructure in a more systematic fashion than Bahaeddin Bey had been able to do during his tenure at Jaffa. On 9 January 1915, the Fourth Army moved its headquarters to Jerusalem. A delegation of Jewish community leaders visited him to greet the commander. Djemal Pasha, however, had not forgotten the earlier complaints against his policies. Thus he met the attempt to appease him with a harsh speech. He warned that, after fifteen days, anyone found in possession of a Jewish National Fund stamp would be executed and stressed that Bahaeddin Bey’s measures at Jaffa had been fully legal. Djemal Pasha also warned that those who had misled the religious head of the Jerusalem Jewish community to file a complaint would face most serious punishment. Immediately after the meeting, the authorities published new regulations extending the threat of execution to the use of Jewish banknotes. Moreover, Zionist symbols, flags, and the Hashomer were banned and a Hashomer leader was sentenced to two years’ imprisonment. Muslim guards were to provide a security service which the colonists had to pay for.20 On 15 January 1915, the authorities closed the branches of the Zionist AngloPalestine Bank and the police arrested twenty-six Jewish community leaders at Jaffa and took them to Jerusalem. The group included prominent Zionists and two Hashomer leaders. At Jerusalem the men were taken to a hotel, where Djemal Pasha announced that they had to leave for Istanbul within ten days. The army later modified the order: some of the men would be detained in the Anatolian provinces, while others had to leave the Ottoman Empire altogether. Twelve men who had been involved in the complaint against Bahaeddin Bey had to stay for two weeks in Northern Palestine. The following day, Djemal Pasha informed the EUM that he was exiling a teacher of the Jaffa Jewish school to Istanbul for expressing negative views about Turks. At the same time, more enemy aliens left Palestine. Ruppin estimated that, of the approximately 15,000 to 18,000 Russian, French, and British Jews in Palestine, about 4,000 were unwilling to become Ottoman subjects and were forced to leave the country. By 13 January 1915, about 2,000 were at Jaffa and hoping to leave. A week later, Morgenthau noted that the Tennessee had transported 2,700 Jews from Jaffa while he was trying to prevent

118  Hilmar Kaiser further expulsions of Russian Jews. He also worked hard to reopen the AngloPalestine Bank. Talat Bey, however, remained adamant.21 On 25 January 1915, a Jewish newspaper in Jerusalem published a declaration by Bahaeddin Bey, dated 21 January, denouncing the Zionist movement as a rebellious element. It warned that the Zionists wanted to create a Jewish state in Palestine. Their activities might also harm the Jewish community. Therefore the authorities intended to confiscate paper money, checks, and drafts issued by the Anglo-Palestine Bank as well as Zionist flags and stamps. All clandestine Zionist organizations were to be shut down. Bahaeddin Bey emphasized that the measures did not target the Jewish community as such. The authorities began removing signs in Hebrew from shops and streets and confiscated the flags of Jewish schools. The announcement created an outcry at Istanbul. Wangenheim was furious and took steps to have both Jaffa’s military commander and Bahaeddin Bey removed from their positions. The German ambassador approached Talat Bey and reminded him about potential repercussions in the United States. This intervention had some impact on the minister, who inquired of the Jerusalem district authorities whether they had indeed made such an announcement. He added that, while the stamp problem had to be addressed, the threatened punishment was excessive and wrong. For the time being, Talat Bey assured Morgenthau that the proclamation had been unauthorized.22 The announcement was the result of a special investigation unit which coordinated the campaign against the Zionist movement. Its officials were apparently looking for incriminating evidence which could be used at a later trial. The authorities also apprehended Zionist leaders because they had participated in Zionist congresses or owned Zionist pamphlets and the like. Some of the detainees were beaten. Other commissions took control of the possessions of expelled Jews. While the Ministry of the Interior had authorized the prosecution and punishment of offenders, including enemy aliens, who had been engaging in illegal activities, the Ottoman government worried about the public relations disaster that might arise through further expulsions. Expelled Zionists at Port Said and in Alexandria had mobilized American public opinion against the Ottoman Empire. Thus, in an attempt to contain the situation, the Ministry of the Interior prohibited the further expulsions of Jews from Palestine unless sanctioned by the central government. The central authorities reiterated that the extension of the deadline for naturalization had to be respected. During this period no house searches were to take place. Finally, the central government recalled Bahaeddin Bey to Istanbul, where he was to report his findings on Zionism.23 Talat Bey shared some of the instructions, such as the ban on the expulsion of Jewish enemy aliens, with Morgenthau. In line with Abdullah Bey’s recommendations, those in possession of Zionist stamps would be fined rather than receiving the death penalty, as announced by Bahaeddin Bey. The Minister of the Interior also promised that the Anglo-Palestine Bank might be temporarily reopened. Still, Jewish enemy aliens had to leave the country, and by 8 February 1915 about 7,000 had left Palestine. Meanwhile, Talat Bey inquired about arrested Zionists. Midhad Bey, the new district governor of Jerusalem, replied that only two Zionists from

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  119 Haifa were in detention on orders from the Fourth Army. Military intelligence had detained eight Jews at Jaffa in connection with the investigation into illegal stamps, paper money, and the creation of illegal courts. Similarly, military intelligence had arrested some other Jews at Jerusalem on suspicion of illegal activity. The reply did not satisfy Talat Bey. He reminded the authorities that the arrest of a handful of Jews had created serious problems for Ottoman foreign policy.24 Midhad Bey saw no cause for complaint on the part of the Jewish communities as the Ministry of the Interior’s orders had been implemented. The authorities had stopped expulsions and were making some progress with the naturalization procedures. However, few applications had been completed while about 3,000 cases were still under review. About 1,900 Jewish enemy aliens had not applied for naturalization. Most of them were poor, and the authorities were considering their exemption from official fees. As far as the Zionist leadership was concerned, Djemal Pasha insisted on removing most of those he had earlier arrested from Palestine to Sivas province. The detainees should travel first to Istanbul, where Bahaeddin Bey had returned to his post in the EUM. At the same time, the army’s political intelligence division had completed its investigation. Internal Zionist reports documented the organizational structure of societies, the municipal and judicial system, and the organization’s police service. The authorities had also found a special report on systematic land acquisitions. The military considered the evidence strong enough to insist on the expulsion of Zionist leaders whether they had been naturalized or not. Moreover, immigration of Jews to Palestine and Jewish land acquisition had to be prevented. In other words, although the arrests concerned few people, those in question were essential for the Zionist movement to make progress. Thus, the military insisted on removing them from Palestine, irrespective of the impact this decision might have on Ottoman foreign policy.25 In his own report, Djemal Pasha stated that the Zionist movement was a disaster for Palestine. At Jaffa, the movement had achieved a high degree of independence, including a separate court. The general therefore stressed the need to pass a new law. No Jewish immigrants, including Ottomans, should be allowed to settle in Palestine. Moreover, the creation of new colonies was to be forbidden and the existing ones would be renamed by the government as villages. Foreigners would not be allowed to interfere in the affairs of the villages or the personal affairs of the inhabitants. Political, social, and economic organizations promoting the immigration of Jews to Palestine had to be closed down. Those members who were foreigners had to leave Palestine, while foreigners who had secretly established organizations had to leave the Ottoman Empire. Ottoman or foreign charitable organizations which had been formed for the purpose of settling Jews in the Ottoman Empire were not allowed to maintain branches or keep officials in Palestine. New regulations should apply to Jews who wanted immigrate to the Ottoman Empire with the exception of Palestine. Djemal Pasha trusted that these measures would deal a decisive blow to Zionism. Thirty to forty of the most “cursed” Zionists had applied for naturalization. The commander proposed the rejection of these applications and expulsion of the undesirables. Deprived of their leadership, the remaining Jews would have to follow government policy.26

120  Hilmar Kaiser The Zionist organization considered the arrest of its Palestine leaders to be a serious challenge. Likewise, the refusal of naturalization for other cadres and their pending expulsion was aggravating the situation. The Hashomer, land acquisition efforts, and the Zionist labor organization were negatively impacted. Thus, Victor Jacobson proposed enlisting the support of the Armenian deputy Vartkes Serengulian, a leader of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation, in order to free the Zionist labor leaders David Ben-Gurion and Yitzhak Ben-Zvi. Direct appeals had failed. Ben-Zvi had approached Djemal Pasha, who bluntly told him that he had thrown away his petition. In front of his staff and Midhad Bey, he used the occasion to express his determination to abort all Zionist efforts to establish a new state in Palestine. One way to protect prominent Zionists from deportation was to file an application for naturalization at Ottoman consulates in Germany. Richard Lichtheim forwarded the applications to Germany and obtained receipts confirming they had been filed. In a way he preferred not to disclose, Lichtheim had arranged with some Ottoman government officials at Istanbul that the applications would not be processed, as he knew that the result would be negative. With a pending application, however, the individual in question could not be deported. The movement also feared considerable damage to its prestige which would weaken its position among the Jewish population in Palestine. In other words, the Zionist movement’s assessment confirmed Djemal Pasha’s analysis.27 In line with his scheme, the commander suggested to the German consul in Haifa that the Zionist organization should recall Ruppin. In this way he could avoid a conflict with the German Embassy for expelling a German subject, especially if the German consul supported a recall under some pretext. In response, Lichtheim insisted that the German Embassy would protect Ruppin, and he used the case to demand comprehensive German protection for his movement. He also hoped that the embassy would introduce him to Talat Bey, thereby gaining some form of recognition from the government. The Minister of the Interior understood that Ruppin’s case was sensitive and for the time being prevented his expulsion.28 Throughout the spring of 1915, Lichtheim tried to impress on German and United States embassy staff that the problems in Palestine were a misunderstanding or the product of malicious slander by Bahaeddin Bey and other low-ranking officials. Allegedly, the latter had even managed to influence Djemal Pasha with their false claims. Lichtheim also met with the former Jerusalem governor Madjid Bey, who stated that he was against the anti-Zionist campaign but had been powerless to stop such “stupidities.” Now he offered his services, though he apparently expected some payment in return for his efforts. Somewhat disingenuously, Madjid Bey not only claimed that he was in contact with Djemal Pasha but added that he entertained good relations with the general. Lichtheim reported in detail on the meeting, as it seemingly validated his own assertions. Despite the Zionists’ campaigning, the Ottoman government did not give in to diplomatic pressure. Contrary to Lichtheim’s claims, the Ministry of the Interior shared Djemal Pasha’s concerns. On 24 March 1915, Talat Bey spoke with Morgenthau about Zionism and “compared it to the room we were sitting in and said that, after I had admitted them,

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  121 they might claim it was their’s and put me out!” A week later, Morgenthau warned Lichtheim that the expulsion of Jewish enemy aliens from Palestine seemed to be inevitable, as Wangenheim also was not in a position to help. Lichtheim understood that he had to switch tactics. Now he demanded that the German Foreign Office should order Wangenheim to put an end to the Ottoman government’s campaign, as the Zionist movement was facing new and serious threats.29 Indeed, Djemal Pasha had pursued the investigation into Zionist organizations in Palestine. Following his renewed and urgent representations, Talat Bey informed the authorities at Beirut and Jerusalem about new governmental regulations concerning Jews in Palestine on 8 and 10 April 1915. In line with the Fourth Army commander’s earlier proposal, the central authorities banned the immigration of Jews to Palestine. The Ministry of the Interior extended the deadline for applicants by another two months: Jewish enemy aliens had to complete their naturalization by 13 June 1915, and the local authorities had to complete the processing of applications by the same deadline. In support of the process, the government waived all administrative fees. Where applicants filed their papers after 14 May 1915, the authorities had to hand out temporary documents. Thus, all Jewish immigrants who intended to become Ottoman subjects would be in the possession of officially recognized identification papers. Upon the expiration of the new deadline, the authorities were to search Jewish villages and quarters and undertake a complete census of the population, dispatching special inspectors to assist in the effort. The local authorities were to expel immediately anyone from Palestine who was a Jewish enemy alien and had no identification documents. Subjects of a non-enemy state would be tried by local courts. The authorities had to publish the new instructions in various languages, with the exception of the provisions concerning late applicants, which had to remain strictly confidential. The Ministry of the Interior was to receive a copy of the announcement. It also warned that courts martial would punish local officials for the slightest infraction.30 A second temporary regulation addressed the land regime in Palestine until the government was able to promulgate a new law. The central government prohibited all new land acquisitions by local or foreign Jews, and the local authorities were not allowed to process any paperwork connected with Jewish real estate. Similarly, local courts could no longer pass decisions or issue documents relating to Jewish possession of real estate, its rent, transfer, pawning, donation, or indirect ownership by legal representatives. All parties involved in such transactions had to identify themselves with official Ottoman documents and register their full name. They also had to sign a declaration stating that they had obtained the real estate for themselves and that neither they nor their inheritors would settle Jews on the land, nor would they sell, rent, donate, pawn, or transfer the land to Jews. Furthermore, the declaration stipulated that a violation of these terms would render the contract invalid. The Ministry of the Interior exempted from the new prohibitions the transfer or inheritance to inheritors or others of real estate legally registered as Jewish-owned. In sum, the government had accepted Djemal Pasha’s proposals concerning Jewish land acquisition and immigration. Combined with the measures taken against Zionist organizations, the program aimed at paralyzing

122  Hilmar Kaiser if not dismantling the entire movement. For his part, Lichtheim tried to put a twist on the news of the prohibition for land acquisition. He claimed that the measure was not much more than an attempt on the part of the government to please “the Arabs” by “throwing them a bone.”31 On 24 April 1915, the Ottoman authorities arrested almost the entire Armenian community leadership at Istanbul. In the evening, Morgenthau had dinner with some guests, among them the Ottoman chief rabbi and Talat Bey. During the conversation, the ambassador brought up Zionism. Talat Bey made it clear that the organization’s goals were contrary to Ottoman interests, and Morgenthau concluded that the government was determined to suppress the Zionist movement. The following morning, Entente troops landed on the Gallipoli peninsula in an attempt to take Istanbul. As it was doubtful whether the defenders would be able to hold their line, a political crisis seemed imminent and the future of the Ottoman government appeared uncertain. On 25 April 1915, the ambassador spoke again with Talat Bey. Now the minister expressed his determination to destroy all opposition organizations. He added that a list had been drawn up of Zionist leaders to be expelled. Evidently, the government planned to detain the latter in the same way they had dealt with the Armenian leadership. Morgenthau took very seriously Talat Bey’s blunt statement and met with Wangenheim. The German ambassador promised to help the Zionists but refused to help the Armenians. The assurances were of particular importance for Jacobson, whom the Minister of the Interior had singled out as an enemy. Still, Morgenthau arranged an appointment for the Zionist leader with Talat Bey for 28 April 1915. During the one-hour long meeting, however, the minister reiterated his threats against Zionism and expressed his determination to correct the government’s past mistakes. Jacobson understood the warning and decided to leave the Ottoman Empire. Indeed, within days the central government ordered the authorities in Palestine to prepare detailed lists of known Zionists and submit these together with photographs of those in question. Undeterred, Lichtheim stuck to his claim that the Zionist movement was in the interests of the Ottoman state and that suspicions about the movement’s political goals were unfounded. The autonomous administration of the colonies and independent courts were a necessity because of the poor Ottoman administration. In general, the anti-Zionist measures were simply anti-Jewish in general. In his report on the meeting, Lichtheim regretted that Talat Bey had not expressed the government’s support for Zionism but was content that no measures had been taken against Zionists in Istanbul or Palestine. He added that he could not give detailed information on the individuals he and Jacobson were using to influence the government, nor could they document the financial outlay incurred by these steps. Nevertheless, Lichtheim added that more money was needed to continue his efforts.32

Conclusion It is doubtful whether the bribing of Ottoman officials was instrumental in overcoming the political crisis of late April 1915. Morgenthau had done his best to protect the Zionist leadership in Istanbul. Potential repercussions in the

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  123 United States and other countries were certainly a factor taken into account by the Ottoman government. After all, Talat Bey had repeatedly referred to the impact that anti-Zionist measures in Palestine had abroad. Overall, however, the Ottoman Empire was not dependent on support from the United States. The government also commanded considerable leverage with numerous American missionary institutions and a number of important economic concerns, such as the Vacuum Oil Company, operating in the country. Thus, it seemed that the attitude towards Zionism, by and large accommodating, was a concession to the government’s German ally. Losing the propaganda battle was much less acceptable for Germany than it was for the Ottoman government, and the Germans were also very much concerned about the United States’ role in the war. In a way, the German and United States ambassadors competed in bestowing favors on the Zionist representatives in Istanbul. Their diplomatic mail and telegraph services provided unequalled communication facilities to the organization, and both embassies helped out with financial transactions that limited the impact of the closure of the Anglo-Palestine Bank. In a way, the two embassies kept the Zionist movement in Ottoman Empire operational.33 At least since the summer of 1914, the Ottoman government had obtained sufficient information to understand that the Zionist movement’s goals were incompatible with its own agenda. Still, it did not target the Jewish communities or the Zionist movement as such. Aside from the one well-publicized incident when Bahaeddin Bey took independent action in Jaffa on 17 December 1914, no specific measures were taken against Jewish institutions, though government measures impacted the Zionist movement since many of its members were enemy aliens. Still, Ruppin acknowledged that the Ottoman authorities were comparably accommodating towards enemy aliens. The government’s steps against the Hashomer, Zionist courts, and the administration of the colonies were an attempt to extend Ottoman law to places which had emerged as extra-legal zones. Abdullah Bey’s measured legal analysis of the situation and his proposals showed that he was not motivated by Islamist ideology; he simply sought to implement existing legal standards. In January 1915, Djemal Pasha began targeting the Zionist leadership. This effort, too, was not an expression of xenophobia or Muslim fervor but a calculated move to prevent the creation of a Zionist state in Palestine. The Fourth Army commander made a distinction between Zionism and the Jewish population in general. Yet the measures concerning land ownership affected the entire Jewish population of Palestine. This was probably a result of the authorities’ inability both to block Zionist land acquisitions effectively and to determine exactly who was a Zionist. The extensive regulations demonstrated that the central government was well aware that the existing complex legal situation posed serious problems for the program’s implementation. Still, the Jewish community, or at least the Zionist membership, was targeted. The Ministry of the Interior repeatedly extended the deadline for the naturalization of Jewish enemy aliens and waived fees in order to facilitate the naturalization of poor immigrants. Obviously, no financial threshold existed, nor did the authorities demand the quick integration of the arrivals. Instead, government and local officials agreed that announcements

124  Hilmar Kaiser and services should be provided in languages other than the two local administrative languages, Turkish and Arabic. This pragmatic approach extended to the suggestion to hold Ottoman court sessions in non-Ottoman languages. The arrest and expulsion of Zionists from Palestine concerned a comparably small number of prominent leaders. It preceded and resembled the detention of Armenian leaders from Istanbul in Angora province. While the arrests of the Armenians are regularly interpreted as the beginning of the extermination of Ottoman Armenian communities, it is evident that no such danger existed for the Jewish communities in Palestine. Zionists were considered as enemies by the Ottoman government but not as a primary threat to its political goals. In their correspondence, Talat Bey and Djemal Pasha often used rather blunt language when referring to their political enemies. Islamist views were not part of their rejection of Zionism, which was, rather, a matter of national sovereignty and competing political objectives. The Minister of the Interior and the Fourth Army commander were not always in full agreement about the implementation of the former’s orders. This was not unusual. Both men regularly argued over policy and in 1915 entertained irreconcilable differences concerning the treatment of Ottoman Armenians.34 In the case of the Zionist movement, however, both found common ground. Thus, Bahaeddin Bey did not trick the Ottoman government into an anti-Zionist stance. The alleged conflict between the central authorities and the Ottoman military in Syria was not much more than propaganda myth spread by the Zionist organization. Lichtheim made these claims as he had to reassure the German Embassy that support for the Zionist movement would not be detrimental to the German–Ottoman alliance. His stories about Muslim fervor and divisions in government over policy towards Zionism made little impression at the German Embassy. Wangenheim knew Ottoman government strategies well enough not to be misled. Nevertheless, the Zionist organization’s distortion of Arab and Turkish nationalist opposition to its agenda as Muslim fanaticism was taken up and perpetuated in scholarly literature.

Notes   1 An earlier version of this chapter was presented on 7 April 2005 at the symposium “Genocide in the 20th Century: Ninety Years since the Armenian Genocide” organized by the Van Leer Jerusalem Institute.   2 No documentary evidence has come to light to show how Djemal’s hostility to Zionism originated. However, it would not be wrong to assume that his xenophobia, blended with Muslim fervour, provided fertile soil in which Bahaeddin’s ideas could flourish. . . . An assertion in the Zionist report that Beha-ed-Din acted under instructions from the Porte is erroneous, for it is most unlikely that a policy of that nature would have emanated from Talat, who was not hostile to the Palestine Jews and was known for his political maturity in the treatment of aliens. That an executive official like Bahaeddin could have taken the law into his own hands may seem peculiar, but this was by no means an isolated incident in Turkish politics during the war. Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, 1897–1918, pp. 212–13, 242

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  125   3 Dündar, Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi, p. 376; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 79–81.   4 BOA, DH.EUM.Emniyet Şubesi 104/13, [?] to EUM, Jerusalem, 6 May 1914.   5 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 41/63, Ali Munif to Beirut province, Jerusalem district, 23 May 1914, General Administration, Spec. 205, 97; 428/25, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 28 May 1914, no. 3249; 41/201, Ali Munif to Jerusalem district, 8 June 1914, General Correspondence Dept. Spec. 128; 41/202, Ali Munif to Jerusalem district, 8 June 1914, General Correspondence Dept. Spec. 129; 42/4, Ali Munif to Beirut province, Jerusalem district, 13/14 June 1914, General Correspondence Dept. Spec. 269, 132; 430/60, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 15 June 1914, no. 3852/159; 42/54, Ali Munif to Jerusalem district, 17 June 1914, General Correspondence Dept. Spec. 140; 43/102, Ali Munif to Beirut province, 26 July 1914, EUM Spec. 385; Lichtheim, Rückkehr, p. 251. For information on district governor Ahmed Madjid [Gören], see Çankaya, Yeni Mülkiye Târihive Mülkiyeliler, pp. 420–22. At Beirut, Jewish passengers had secured their disembarkation by bribing local officials. Dündar, Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi, p. 372.   6 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 44/6, Ali Munif to Jerusalem district, 15 August 1915, EUM Spec. 19; 437/41, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 16 August 1914, no. 9000/287; 439/49, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 31 August 1914, no. 10413; 439/50, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 1 September 1914, no. 10642.   7 The official had left his office at Istanbul on 28 September 1914 but maintained his position as director of the EUM’s Eighth Department. Earlier, the Ministry of the Interior had dispatched Esad Bey [Uras], its expert on Armenian organizations, to Gevash sub-district in Van province. Formally the official served there as sub-district governor, while in reality his task was an intelligence assignment. BOA, DH.EUM. İkinci Şube (hereafter: 2 ŞB) 12/14, EUM to Supreme High Command, 1 September 1914; DH.EUM.Evrak Odası Kalemi Evrakı (hereafter: VRK) 27/54, Ministry of the Interior to Ministry of War, 26 September 1915, EUM 1558; Deputy Minister of War to Ministry of the Interior, 29 September 1914, no. 1087/758; DH.EUM.Muhasebe Kalemi (hereafter: MH) 256/39, EUM, 17 October 1914, EUM Personnel Dept. 4489, EUM, 8 December 1914; 96/84, EUM, 16 January 1915, no. 705; DH.ŞFR. 47/468, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 13 December 1914, EUM Spec. 22; Kaiser, “Dall’impero alla repubblica,” p. 112; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, p. 98.   8 CZA, L5 Zionist Agency at Constantinople (hereafter: L5)/52, Ruppin to Lichtheim, Jaffa, 24 March 1915, copy, enclosure in Action Committee to Members, Berlin, 30 April 1915. Lichtheim forwarded his reports to his superiors at Berlin with the help of the German diplomatic service (in other words, the documents remained outside the reach of Ottoman intelligence). At the same time, he knew that German Foreign Office officials would read the dispatches. Thus, he wrote the reports in a way he hoped would influence German government policy and counteract claims by Jewish opponents of Zionism. In the manuscript of his memoirs, he stressed that historians had to take into account that his reports had been written for this stated purpose. Lichtheim, Rückkehr, p. 284; CZA, A 56 Lichtheim Papers, 30/1–30/2, “Ein Rest ist zurückgekehrt” (manuscript), Jerusalem, October 1948 – December 1949, vol. 1, pp. 447–8; Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 198.   9 NA, Record Group (hereafter: RG) 84, Consulate Jaffa, Letter Book 4 April 1914–31 December 1915 (hereafter: Jaffa), Hardegg to Glazebrook, Jaffa, 23 November 1914, no. 501; DH.ŞFR. 47/348, Talat to Jerusalem district, 6 December 1914, EUM Spec. 60; 48/33, Minister to Jerusalem district, 17 December 1914, EUM Spec. 68; AA-PA,

126  Hilmar Kaiser

10

11 12

13

14

15

Türkei 195/4, A 28769, Loewy, Berlin, 29 October 1914, enclosure in Warburg to AA, 30 October 1914; A 29698, Wangenheim to AA, Therapia, 5 November 1914, telegram 1248; CZA, Zionistisches Zentralbureau 1911–1920, Berlin, Z 3 (hereafter: Z 3), 1472, Correspondence of the Zionist Central Office and the Representation in Constantinople with the Palestine Office, Jaffa, on economic questions and economic measures in Palestine during the World War, 1915, Palestine Office, Ruppin, Jerusalem, 15 February 1915. The Jerusalem district governor suggested that Djemal Pasha would be competent to decide the matter. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 47/222, Talat to Jerusalem district, 28 November 1914, EUM Spec. 54; 47/366, Talat to Jerusalem district, 7 December 1914, EUM Spec. 61, urgent; 453/14, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 10 December 1914, no. 21681; ISA, Jerusalem, Record Group 67, General-Konsulat Jerusalem, 27, Politisches 1910–1915 (hereafter: RG 67/27), Wangenheim to Schmidt, Therapia, 7 November 1914, J. no. 2713.A; Brode to Wangenheim, Jaffa, 7 May 1915, J. no. 859; AA-PA, Türkei 195/4, A 33827, Wangenheim to Bethmann Hollweg, Pera, 28 November 1914, no. 287; Aaronsohn, With the Turks in Palestine, p. 34; Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, pp. 34–6; Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, pp. 198–9. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 450/145, Bekir Sami to Ministry of the Interior, Beirut, 28 November 1914, no. 35942. Apparently, the acting Italian consul at Jaffa had further complicated matters. He had declared that Russian Jews would lose all their property in Russia if they became Ottoman subjects. CZA, Z 3, 1472, Ruppin, Jerusalem, 15 February 1915; L 5/52, Ruppin to Lichtheim, Jaffa, 24 March 1915, copy, enclosure in Action Committee to Members, Berlin, 30 April 1915; BOA, DH.ŞFR. 47/468, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 13 December 1914, EUM Spec. 22; 48/59, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 15 December 1914, EUM Spec. 30. BOA, DH.Sicill-i Nüfüs Müdüriyeti 35/22, General Population Administration, 13 December 1914; DH.ŞFR. 453/93, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Damascus (HQ), 14 December 1914, no. 280/22. Ottoman fears about espionage by enemy aliens in the region materialized at least partly in 1915. Rogan, Frontiers of the State in the Late Ottoman Empire, pp. 218–19. NA, RG 84, Jaffa, Hardegg to Glazebrook, Jaffa, 17 November 1914, no. 496; BOA, DH.ŞFR. 455/11, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 23 December 1914, no. 25823; CZA, Z 3, 1472, Ruppin, Jerusalem, 15 February 1915; L 5/52, Ruppin to Lichtheim, Jaffa, 24 March 1915, copy, enclosure in Action Committee to Members, Berlin, 30 April 1915; “Note,” Hapeol Hazair, 1 January 1915, enclosure in Thon to Lichtheim, Jaffa, 8 September 1915, copy; Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 213. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 48/40, [Talat] to Djemal Pasha, 17 December 1914, EUM Spec. 48; 48/110, Talat to Jerusalem district, 22 December 1914, EUM Spec. 71; 455/11, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 23 December 1914, no. 25823; 455/69, Djemal Pasha to Talat, Damascus (HQ), 25 December 1914, no. 1020/620; NA, RG 59, Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 26 December 1914, 867.4016/25, telegram; CZA, Z 3/50, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 18 December 1914, 24 December 1914; Arthur Ruppin Papers, A 107/950, Diary, Damascus, 25 December 1914, Jerusalem, 31 December 1914; CZA, Z 3, 1472, Ruppin, Jerusalem, 15 February 1915; Lichtheim, Rückkehr, pp. 277–80; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, pp. 152, 156, 158.

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  127 16 BOA, DH.EUM.MH. 95/1, 19 December 1914, EUM Personnel Dept. 5276; 96/58, Yusuf to EUM, Jerusalem, 11 January 1915, no. 31741/606; CZA, Z 3/50, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 28 December 1914; Z 3/78, Hacheruth, 25 January 1915. 17 CZA, Z 3/50, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 26 December 1914; BOA, DH.ŞFR. 48/211, Minister to Fourth Army Command, 30 December 1914, EUM Spec. 45; 48/212, Talat to Jerusalem district, 30 December 1914, EUM Spec. 72; 48/213, to Jerusalem district, 30 December 1914, EUM Spec. 73, urgent; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, p. 158; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 83; Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 39. 18 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 456/65, Madjid to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 4 January 1915, no. 30829; 48/277, Minister to Djemal Pasha, 6 January 1915, Gen. Correspondence Section, 2 ŞB Spec. 58; 456/101, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Damascus (HQ), 6 January 1915, no. 1811; Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 44. 19 BOA, DH.EUM.KLH. 1/17, Abdullah, 3 January 1915. 20 CZA, Arthur Ruppin Papers, A 107/950, Diary, Jerusalem, 18 January 1915; Z 3/1472, Palestine Office, Ruppin, Jerusalem, 15 February 1915; L 5/52 Ruppin to Lichtheim, Jaffa, 24 March 1915, copy, enclosure in Action Committee to Members, Berlin, 30 April 1915; ISA, RG 67/27, Cohn to Simon, Jerusalem, 20 January 1915, copy; Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I, p. 44. 21 DH.EUM.KLH. 5/21, Djemal Pasha to EUM, Jerusalem (HQ), 16 January 1915, no. 1207; CZA, Arthur Ruppin Papers, A 107/950, Diary, Jerusalem, 18 January 1915; L 5/52 Ruppin to Lichtheim, Jaffa, 24 March 1915, copy, enclosure in Action Committee to Members, Berlin, 30 April 1915; Z 3/51, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 8 February 1915; ISA, RG 67/27, Cohn to Nathan, Jerusalem, 18 February 1915, copy, enclosure in Schmidt to Wangenheim, Jerusalem, 24 February 1915, K. no. 7/J. no. 518; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, pp. 165–6, 168–71, 173–4. 22 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 49/155, Minister to Jerusalem district, 27 January 1915, EUM Spec. 73; CZA, Z 3/78, Hacheruth no. 98, 25 January 1915; Z 3/51, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 5 February 1915, 6 February 1915; Z 3/1472, Palestine Office, Ruppin, Jerusalem, 15 February 1915; NA, RG 59, 867.4016/38, Lansing to Brandeis, Washington, 9 February 1915; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, p. 175; Lichtheim, Rückkehr, p. 293. 23 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 49/198, Ali Munif to Jerusalem district, 3 February 1915, IUDM 76; 49/216, Minister to Midhad Bey, 6 February 1915, EUM Spec. 78; 49/222, Talat to Fourth Army Command, 6 February 1915, EUM Spec. 70; 49/228, Minister to Jerusalem district, 7 February 1915, EUM Spec. 7; DH.EUM.VRK. 14/62, Bahaeddin to Ministry of the Interior, Beirut, 13 February 1915, no. 311; CZA, Z 3/51 Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 8 February 1915; Lichtheim to Warburg, [Constantinople], 9 February 1915, copy; Z 3/1472, Palestine Office, Ruppin, Jerusalem, 15 February 1915; ISA, RG 67/27, Cohn to Nathan, Jerusalem, 18 February 1915, copy, enclosure in Schmidt to Wangenheim, Jerusalem, 24 February 1915, K. no. 7, J. no. 518. 24 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 49/245, Minister to Jerusalem district, 10 February 1915, EUM Spec. 80; 461/25, Midhad to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 11 February 1915, no. 40155/230; 50/1, Talat to Jerusalem district, 14 February 1915, EUM Spec. 81; CZA, Z 3/51 Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 8 February 1915, 9 February 1915; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, p. 176. For information on district governor Mehmed Midhad [Alam], see Çankaya, Yeni Mülkiye Târihive Mülkiyeliler, pp. 993–4.

128  Hilmar Kaiser 25 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 463/9, Midhad to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 27 February 1915, no. 42495; 50/79, Talat to Jerusalem district, 24 February 1915, EUM Spec. 87; 463/14, Midhad to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 28 February 1915, no. 62493; CZA, Z 3/51, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 27 February 1915. 26 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 465/19, Djemal Pasha to Talat, Jerusalem (HQ), 15 March 1915, no. 118/44. See also Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 80–81. 27 CZA, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 14 February 1915; Z 3/52, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 3 March 1915, 4 March 1915, 6 March 1915, 9 March 1915, copy; Jacobson to Lichtheim, [n.p.], 9 March 1915; L 5/52, Ruppin to Lichtheim, Jaffa, 24 March 1915, copy, enclosure in Action Committee to Members, Berlin, 30 April 1915. 28 The Jerusalem district authorities informed Talat Bey that they were not pursuing measures against Ruppin. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 51/164, Talat to Jerusalem district, 28 March 1915, EUM Spec. 4; 466/132, Midhad to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem, 2 April 1915, no. 3484; CZA, Z 3/52, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 6 March 1915, 9 March 1915, copy; ISA, RG 67/27, Schmidt to Wangenheim, Jerusalem, 28 February 1915, K. no. 20, J. no. 541; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, p. 192; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 85–6. 29 CZA, Z 3/52, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 11 March 1915, 29 [31] March 1915, 16 April 1915, 23 April 1915; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, p. 199. 30 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 466/14, Djemal Pasha to Talat, Jerusalem (HQ), 23 March 1915, no. 654/249; 51-236/237, Talat to Beirut province, Jerusalem district, 8 April 1915, EUM Spec. 6. Given the Ottoman government’s policy concerning Jewish enemy aliens, which did not change for the entire period, it seems highly doubtful that administrators would have pursued a policy treating this group worse than any others falling into the same category. Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, p. 219; Dündar, Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi, p. 380. 31 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 51/254, Talat to Beirut province, Jerusalem district, 10 April 1915, EUM Spec. 7, 7, urgent; CZA, Z 3/52, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 21 April 1915. 32 CZA, Z 3/52, Lichtheim to Zionist Central Office, Constantinople, 27 April 1915, 29 April 1915, copy; BOA, DH.ŞFR. 52/218, Talat to Jerusalem district, 4 May 1915, EUM Spec. 10; 52/227, Talat to Beirut province, 4 May 1915, EUM Spec. 11; Morgenthau, United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus, pp. 215–18. 33 Friedman concluded that, “had it not been for Germany’s effective interventions, the Zionists would not have been able to maintain their positions in Palestine.” Friedman, Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, pp. 246–7. 34 Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies.”

References Aaronsohn, A., With the Turks in Palestine. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1916. Çankaya, A., Yeni Mülkiye Târihi ve Mülkiyeliler (Mülkiye Şeref Kitabı). Ankara: Mars Matbaası, 1968–9. Çiçek, M. T., War and State Formation in Syria: Cemal Pasha’s Governorate during World War I. London: Routledge, 2014. Conde de Ballobar, Jerusalem in World War I: The Palestine Diary of a European Diplo­ mat, ed. Eduardo Manzano Moreno and Roberto Mazza. London: I. B. Tauris, 2011.

The Ottoman government and the Zionist movement  129 Dündar, F., Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi: İttihat ve Terakki’nin Etnisite Mühendisliği (1913–1918). Istanbul: İletişim Yayınları, 2008. Friedman, I., Germany, Turkey, and Zionism, 1897–1918. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977. Kaiser, H., “Dall’impero alla repubblica: le continuità del negazionismo turco”, in Storia, verità, giustizia: I crimini del XX secolo, ed. Marcello Flores. Milan: Bruno Mondadori, 2001, pp. 89–113. —— “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies: Ahmed Djemal Pasha, the Governors of Aleppo, and Armenian Deportees in the Spring and Summer of 1915,” Journal of Genocide Research 12 (2010): 173–218. Lichtheim, R., Rückkehr: Lebenserinnerungen aus der Frühzeit des deutschen Zionismus. Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1970. Morgenthau, H., United States Diplomacy on the Bosphorus: The Diaries of Ambassador Morgenthau 1913–1916, ed. Ara Sarafian, Princeton, NJ: Gomidas Institute, 2004. Rogan, E. L., Frontiers of the State in the Late Ottoman Empire: Transjordan, 1850–1921. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.

6 Fragments of wartime memories from Syria and Lebanon Najwa al-Qattan

Oh messenger, spread this missive among mankind, Tell them to repeat it until the end of time: Of events no one has recorded, their history untold. Its author intent on writing till it’s known around the world: Of desperate villages where starvation kills young and old, Where children roam the streets like prey, With even good people in pursuit.1

So opens the zajal (colloquial poem) by Yusuf al-Birri, the Lebanese poet, from 1916 with reference to the famine in Mount Lebanon during the Great War. Al-Birri was not unique in using a non-narrative and poetic form to describe the catastrophic hunger that he witnessed or in his anxiety that it might be forgotten. Nor was he alone in speaking of the famine with reference to familial disintegration and cannibalism. However, whether his message about civilian hunger and death has been heard around the world, or even at home, remains questionable. Silenced by illiteracy, exhaustion, despair, and untimely death, most stories were never told. Those who did write about the famine––whether immediately or decades later–– found themselves dealing with “the collision between reality and language”2 and the challenges of describing the unspeakable; some, unlike al-Birri, even expressed ambivalence about the very act of remembering such horrors at all. In excerpts from an interview conducted in 2001 in German and published in English under the title “The Necessity to Forget and to Remember,” Elias Khoury, one of Lebanon’s foremost novelists (as well as a literary critic and journalist), made the following statement: At the beginning of the civil war I found out that I did not know the society I was living in. We never studied what happened in the 19th century, we never knew what happened at the beginning of the 20th century. Even the famine of the First World War which killed one third of the Lebanese population had never been studied. At the beginning of the civil war my father started to tell me stories I had never heard before. He told them as if he himself had lived them but later I discovered that these stories were not his stories and not his father’s stories but his grandfather’s stories. They were about the civil war of 1860.3

Fragments of wartime memories  131 What is interesting is not only Khoury’s reference to the almost forgotten famine of the Great War but also his observations about how present wars awaken memories of earlier wars, as well as about the generational and familial pathways on which memory travels from the past to the present. But this is not the case in all wars. Witness what the narrator in Khoury’s novel Gate of the Sun imagines regarding the experience of the war in Palestine in 1948 in juxtaposition to the Great War: In those days, as the story goes, the world was at war and where there’s war, things take on a different shape. The air was different, the smells were different, and people were different. War became a ghost that seeped into people’s clothes and walked among them . . . Nobody called anything by its real name, war itself didn’t resemble its own name. Everyone thought it would be like the war tales of their ancestors, where mighty armies were defeated, locusts ate the fields, and famine and pestilence spread through the land. They didn’t know that this time the war without a name was them. The blind sheikh told his wife that words had lost their meaning and so he had decided to be silent.4 The Great War in Lebanon and Syria did have a name––in fact it had several, including Safarbarlik and harb al-majaʿa (War of Hunger).5 Yet the experience of the civilians is not well documented. What reasons might explain this relative silence? Is it because “words had lost their meaning,” as in the case of the blind sheikh? Is it because the Great War in Lebanon and Syria, like the 1948 war, would have “silence[d] the Muse in any language,” as Cormac O’Grada has written about the Great Irish Famine?6 Speaking at a 2001 conference in Beirut on his personal memory of the war, the historian Nicola Ziadeh interrupted himself in mid-talk to say the following: “These childhood memories were a part of my life. To describe them to you is not as easy as to remember them, but I hope I managed to convey some sense of how it was.”7 His account, or “picture” of the “impressions I still remember from those old days,”8 rendered almost a century after the war, insists that he will speak only of things that he personally witnessed: the hunger and familial crisis that the war brought to his life as a child. Indeed, the Great War was a time of horrific suffering and loss for the civilian population in Syria and Lebanon. Estimates of civilian deaths vary, but most scholars put the number of casualties at around 300,000 people.9 The war brought not only conscription, corvée, and exile, but also disease, locusts, and famine. The famine was due to a confluence of causes, natural and man-made. Ottoman wartime measures such as conscription and forced labor reduced the labor force as well as food production. The printing of paper money and currency devaluation further raised food prices. The situation was exacerbated by official corruption and hoarding by local merchants. At the same time, the Entente blockade of the Eastern Mediterranean, which lasted into 1919, prevented much needed food and foreign remittances, particularly from the United States (after 1917), from reaching the coast. Nature also colluded in causing the famine: the wartime winters were unusually snowy, closing the mountain passes and preventing grain (smuggled or not) from reaching the coast; swarms of locusts infested the area in 1915 and 1916,

132  Najwa al-Qattan further depleting food supplies. Disease was also rampant, as is usually the case in famines: typhus, typhoid, malaria, and the plague took their toll on civilians.10 In other words, Lebanese and Syrian civilians suffered from everything, including the plague, leading them in the words of eyewitnesses to become an army of beggars and skeletons––some would even say animals. The political history of the war has, of course, been told many times over by historians, Middle Eastern and Western alike. This is not surprising given the profound political transformations that the Great War occasioned in the region. Historical narratives include nationalist renditions of wartime events which focus on Arab (Syrian and/or Lebanese) resistance to Ottoman-Turkish martial law as symbolized by the martyrs and their nemesis, Djemal Pasha. Yet, for all their iconic success, popular resonance, and enduring memory, the few dozen civilians who were hanged during the war met their death in a way very different from the vast majority of Lebanese and Syrian civilians who died from starvation. This chapter examines a variety of Lebanese and Syrian sources––eyewitness accounts, poetry, and literature on the famine. What they all have in common (to varying degrees) is a focus on the civilian experience of starvation, as opposed to military and political history, and their attempt to understand and bear witness to horrific suffering. Although the material that looks specifically at the famine is both emotive and revealing, it is rather scattered, consisting for the most of “fragments of memories” dispersed among a jumble of genres, including on the spot anecdotal snapshots and zajal, as well as poetic, autobiographical, and fictional renditions written decades after the war had ended. In locating and examining those sources, this chapter has two seemingly contradictory objectives: first, to tease out from scattered evidence the imagined world of Lebanese and Syrian civilians during the war—indeed, to highlight it—and at the same time to raise questions about the relative scarcity of the material about it. I suggest that a close analysis of both the forms and the tropes of those fragments provides insight into the imagined world of civilians and at the same time helps to address the reasons behind such fragmented documentation.11 I argue that, because of its enormity, the experience of the famine presented challenges to language, which may explain why the most emotive sites of this memory––zajal, poetry, anecdotes, and apocryphal tales––are genres that allowed authors to navigate some of the challenges to speech. I further suggest that the paucity of the material on the famine may be indicative not of any marginal impact on civilian life but, rather, of its profound disruption of time, coherence, and narrativity. If the famine was an experience in which time itself stood still, we might better appreciate why it fails to sit comfortably within chronological narratives in which the relationship between the past and the present is essential.12 The story of the famine may have been eclipsed, as Salim Tamari and others have argued, by nationalist historians’ wish to erase the Ottoman past. But it may also have to do with the fact that the famine does not sit well with any forward-looking narrative.13 Elizabeth Thompson, in Colonial Citizens: Republican Rights, Paternal Privilege, and Gender in French Syria and Lebanon, notes the public amnesia regarding the famine even as she forcefully demonstrates the crucial impact it

Fragments of wartime memories  133 would have on postwar discourses of citizenship and gender. The famine remains, as she says, largely “shrouded in unmentionable shame.”14 As evidenced from the material examined below, the famine is indeed remembered as a time of moral degradation and shame, perhaps even guilt, for behavior that, as O’Grada remarks, “most people would rather forget so that the cruel doings of their forebears would not be again renewed and talked about by neighbours.”15 Still, the record is not completely silent. As befits the horror of their contents, the sources provide only glimpses, linguistic snapshots, because the experienced famine had no logic, let alone a story. The language that they deploy attempts to speak the unspeakable and to elicit emotional responses in specifically gendered and familial vocabulary. The metaphors and discourses that writers have deployed in order to make sense of the upheaval and pain that the war brought to everyday life speak of a breakdown in the family even as the family becomes the primary vehicle for this memory. Needless to say, the dead are everywhere in the sources, but, for the living, disorder involved absent men, widows, for-ever engaged spinsters, prostitutes, orphans, even cannibal mothers. In many of the accounts and memoirs, such stories are often framed as family tales, “stories my father told me,” whereas, in the literary accounts they are plotted as stories of engagements, weddings, and funerals. I suggest that, rather than appeal to an “imagined community,” the stories they tell are, by and large, neither national nor even communal but, rather, emotive and familial.

Zajal and poetry: “Every verse is an ambassador”16 Beyond the story of the nation and its political martyrs, there are non-stories about the communities, families, and individuals whose suffering challenged the ability of language to articulate, let alone organize, in a meaningful story. Expressed in zajal and poetry, the images they weave are horrifying, even apocalyptic, and the sentiments they evoke are of disbelief, agony, despair, and fear. They speak of death among the living, of disappearing social, moral, and human obligations, and of broken familial attachments. Some express ambivalence about witnessing and remembering, even as they engage in recording what they see. Zajal––colloquial [‘ammiyya] poetry––is a popular genre in Lebanon and Syria, among other places in the Arabic-speaking world, and is an interesting and important source for civilians’ experience of the war. The importance of zajal rests in its ability to articulate emotionally powerful non-narrative descriptions of the war experience as well as to give voice to less privileged and literate social groups. A recent study goes so far as to argue that, because it is rendered in the vernacular, “zajal is more evocative than poetry: it deals with feelings and is intimately tied to tradition and everyday life.”17 Whereas it is debatable whether zajal is more evocative than poetry, like poetry, it has great emotive power as well as range, and its use as a vehicle of expression in the context of the famine is in itself revealing. Although it has at times been dismissed as the step-sister of “real” Arabic poetry in the fusha (literary Arabic) and the “illegitimate child” of classical Arabic poetry,18 there is scholarly consensus

134  Najwa al-Qattan that, because it articulates daily experience, it carries emotive “immediacy” and is “one of the main forms of cultural expression of the masses.”19 According to P. J. E. Cachia, the vernacular has “peculiar associations with the familiar and the immediate and the everyday.”20 As such it is particularly adept both at articulating the ways in which everyday life came to a stop as the famine took over and at evoking the emotions and attitudes of the civilians who experienced it. This is not to deny the primacy of poetry’s power to depict the silencing horrors and to achieve deep emotional resonance. The handful of poems written on the experience of the war validate John Keegan’s comment regarding the deployment of poetry (long before fiction) in Britain to grapple with the challenging (from the point of view of language) experiences of the Western Front. In The Face of Battle, he describes the poetry that dominated the immediate post-war literary wave in Britain as a “literary form which [hides] from its audience its documentary value”21––in other words, that it voices much more than it purports to tell of the horrors of war. The poems of Bishara al-Khuri, Mikhail Nuʿaima, and others are examples of poetry’s ability to capture in concrete and emotive ways aspects of traumatic historical experience. The poetry and much of the zajal dealing with the war are dark and unsparing in their gaze at the horrors of suffering and death in all their gory details. In the zajal by al-Birri whose opening is quoted at the start of the chapter, the poet minces no words in conveying the horrors of the famine: Death is intent on all of us, the bell tolls night and day, Scores of funerals every day. The dead are worthless, buried like beasts, Most are dead, the rest will follow suit. In a few months’ time, Lebanon’s death will be complete.22 In addition to al-Birri, there are several other writers who have effectively deployed zajal and poetry in accounts that focus on the civilian experience. In some instances, the poems are embedded in larger narrative forms, such as Antun Yamin’s two-volume eyewitness account Lebanon during the War [Lubnan fi alharb], published in 1919. Subtitled Memory of the Events and Injustices in Mount Lebanon during the World War [Dhikra al-hawadith wa-l-mazalim fi Lubnan fi al-harb al-ʿumumiyya], it opens with the following in order to convey the details of the horrific in poetic form and to employ it in evoking emotional response: Cry for a beloved country bereft of its people, Cry for the corpses stacked in roads, squares, plains, and valleys, Cry for the mothers whose children are dying, Cry for children who nurse on their mothers’ tears, Cry for the virgins who sell themselves for slices of black bread.23 This poem, like al-Birri’s, also dwells on ubiquitous death and disappearing people and, like so many others, articulates the upheaval in images of children, orphans, mothers, and virgins. This is also the case in a short poem by Amin

Fragments of wartime memories  135 Nasr al-Din, also written in 1916: “Everywhere a catastrophe or a funeral/Here an orphan all alone; there a mother weeping for her dead child.”24 Writing from the United States during the war, Mikhail Nuʿaima, one of Lebanon’s most renowned authors, and the less known Syrian poet Nasib ‘Arida, also speak of death and weeping, but in a different context. Nuʿaima’s 1917 poem “Brother” [Akhi], eulogizes the dead and invites the reader to mourn their passing: Brother, if when the war is over The west clamors for glory And sanctifies its dead and glorifies its heroes, Do not sing the praises of the victors Or despise those who lost the war. Instead, like me, kneel silently And in reverence To weep over our dead. Brother, who are we? Without a home, alone Grab a shovel and follow me, So we may bury our living.25 Arida’s poem entitled “The End” [al-Nihaya] also expresses sentiments of despair and helplessness about wartime conditions, including loss of “honor,” but adds a note of frustrated fury at what he perceives as people’s lack of resistance to wartime torments. Referring to “the people,” he declares: ‘

Shroud them, Bury them, Lay them in coffins down the deep grave. Then leave at once without weeping, For they are dead and will not wake. Their honor trampled Their land plundered Some were hanged But no one thundered Why then shed torrential tears? Nevertheless, the author ends with a nod to the complicated issue of narrating the events he wishes to erase from historical memory: A people without courage reaps only death as its reward Let history fold over the page And from its book erase This tale of weakness and disgrace. Revenge, shame, fire The horror has made us all so brave But moved us only to narrate.26

136  Najwa al-Qattan Moved to narrate the events from Lebanon at the time of the war, Bishara alKhuri, one of Lebanon’s most famous poets, nicknamed “al-Akhtal al-Saghir,” wrote several works, including “1914.” Although he announces: “I cannot write about such horrors,” he goes on to do exactly that over the course of a fifteenpage poem in which he documents the “horrors of war”: “An orphaned girl, in vain searches for her father/A hungry virgin, beautiful and pure sells her body.” Towards the end of the poem he angrily addresses his age: “You give life in order to kill,” and goes on to wish barrenness on all women.27 Al-Birri’s zajal is not only that of an eyewitness who is compelled to tell of what he saw; it expresses anxiety about the story not being told at all, anywhere, about its being forgotten or not remembered in the first place. In part, the urgency is occasioned by the author’s fear that death will claim everyone and leave no witness as to what happened––and who will speak for the dead then? Al-Birri also speaks of an awareness that the story of his war at home may get lost in the larger story about this global war. Likewise, Milhem Hawi, writing in 1917, opens his poem with: “O people of the East, you have been betrayed by history” and laments that “The people [ahali], rich and poor, live in hardship, all in danger/Famine has struck the people/And wrapped them in sadness,” reducing a proud people to beggars. Acknowledging that “scarcity, poverty, hunger, and death” are pervasive around the world, he nonetheless adds: “But the people of the East have tasted devastation most bitterly/Their endurance beyond the endurance of Jonah.”28 The zajal and poetry examples explored so far evoke the horrors of civilian suffering directly, not at all hesitant in detailing the ghoulish nature of what happened and the extent to which the fabric of everyday life was torn apart, its social, moral, and familial glue dissolved. They reference a world of rampant corruption and injustice, without safety or compassion. The toll of death saturated public spaces with corpses and invaded the airwaves without rest. Indeed, with the specters of cannibalism and annihilation, humanity itself appears under assault as the famine preyed on people and people preyed on one another. The emotions they evoke are heartbreak, despair, and fear. There is little irony. Appropriately, even when the poet uses humor, it is to describe a world without much laughter, one in which people behaved like animals. For example, in a piece composed during the war, Rashid ‘Assaf, a Lebanese poet, laments the disappearance of all grain, including barley, which is usually fed to animals. “For donkey food we’ve brayed with might/Now all we do is to bray and bite.”29 For all its brevity, the poem captures the essence of a world in which men were humiliated and reduced to acting or eating like animals, and even that did not save them. In a tribute composed to eulogize Antun ‘Arida, Maronite patriarch [Batrak] of Tripoli at the time of his death in 1955, Asʿad al-Sabʿali repeats the refrain: “Lebanon weeps for Lebanon” and focuses most of his long poem on ‘Arida’s selfless and heroic sacrifices during the Great War. The author begins by attributing to the patriarch a description of wartime conditions in Lebanon before he shifts to describe his sacrifices for the country at that time, thus “reminding” his audience/ Lebanon both about the famine and about the patriarch’s actions, which stand to be forgotten now that he has passed. Sabʿali’s poem, written four decades after the

Fragments of wartime memories  137 end of the war, expresses, though indirectly, the need to remember. In this sense, “Lebanon weeps for Lebanon” is also about Lebanon weeping for the passing of Lebanon during the Great War: He said: war and death were everywhere When the Ghul of hunger came to Lebanon. Justice fled and left our country in agony. Mothers, disconsolately wept Their sons famished, all hope lost. No man cared for his brother Nor had compassion for his father People ate other people, almost.30 Death, cannibalism, and Djemal Pasha make an identical appearance in Mamduh ‘ Adwan’s play Safarbarlik 2: al-Ghul: Jamal Basha al-Saffah (Safarbarlik 2: The Ghul: Djemal Pasha, the Butcher).The play, published in 1996, is structured as a trial of the pasha for all his crimes against civilians, including the famine. Alongside the narrative action of the play, a chorus provides descriptions of roads glutted with corpses and overtaken by death. But the most powerful scene encapsulates the suffering in the form of an apocryphal story. It involves a conversation between Muhammad Kurd Ali, a Syrian journalist, and Djemal Pasha, the latter complaining that the people of Syria appeared to hate him. Kurd Ali brings up the starvation, telling Djemal: “everywhere, people are eating garbage.” In response, Djemal asks, “Did the woman eat her children? When Kurd Ali says, “No,” Djemal’s response is: “Then they are not starving.”31 ‘ Adwan’s play is one of several narrative literary forms that, in addition to poetry and zajal, deal with the famine. These sources include eyewitness accounts, memoirs, plays, and novels. The sources are not easy to pigeon-hole, for they often mix and straddle writing genres. For example, eyewitness and historical narratives of the war exhibit a marked preference for non-narrative devices such lists, anecdotes, and apocryphal stories (as well as poetry) when dealing specifically with the famine. Literary accounts, on the other hand, such as plays, straddle, sometimes awkwardly, the line between fiction and history. As such, like the poetry on the famine, they are revealing about the tension between the urge to record the events in historical time, on the one hand, and the absence of coherence and meaning in the events, on the other. Also like zajal and poetry, these narratives are filled with familial tropes and metaphors in which children and parents dominate. In ‘Adwan’s play Safarbarlik 0: ayyam al-juʿ (Safarbarlik 0: Days of Hunger), an old woman says the following about time and death during the war: The first year, we shrouded our dead and buried them; the second year we wrapped them in blankets and buried them; the third year people were buried in their own clothes and by the fourth year, lucky was the man who had any clothes and we started to bury people in mass graves piled on top of each other.32

138  Najwa al-Qattan This passage speaks to an experience in which time is arrested, its progression measured in units of death. This suspension of time, in which “famine becomes both the context and the cause,” to borrow Gilsenan’s33 marvelous expression, may explain why narrators of the war will often interrupt the flow of their narratives and use––in addition to poetry––anecdotes and apocryphal stories as aids to language and memory. Such devices, in which time and narrativity are arrested, signal a break between the “war as famine” experienced by civilians, and broader historical narratives. Much as in the examples from poetry and zajal, the deployment of such devices speaks of both the impulse to record and remember and the lack of a coherent story around which to organize a narrative.

Anecdotes and apocryphal stories According to O’Grada, “all famines produce so many individual tragedies that in their enormity they wear the air of fable.”34 The same may also be said of wars. Indeed, the myths and legends of the Great War in Europe have been studied by many scholars, whose insights help to shed light on the experiences in Lebanon and Syria as well. In his classic study The Great War and Modern Memory, Fussell analyzes rumors, myths, and legends––“the stuff of folklore”––that flourished on the Western Front and argues that, like the literature of the war, they represented attempts to “make sense” and “console” soldiers who could hardly understand the new kind of carnage they were experiencing, let alone fit it into “a seamless purposeful history,” noting that, in time, some of these would develop into “fullyfledged narrative fictions, almost short stories.” For Fussell, it was “irony-assisted recall” that later enabled people to look back and find meaning in the carnage of the war.35 In attempting to deal with the way in which the experience of the famine also taxed narrative and historical coherence, Lebanese and Syrian authors made use not of irony, but of anecdotes, lists, and apocryphal stories that deny the famine all rational meaning. For example, in the Introduction to Yamin’s Lubnan fi al-harb, a work already cited for its use of poetry, the author asks that “the living remember us, victims to Turkish abuse, to the rich who pilfered, and to disease . . . for our suffering is new, comparable only to the suffering inflicted by Nero,” adding in the second volume: “This is how the people of Lebanon perished. This is how a people died and a large number of its girls were sold into prostitution in an attempt to escape death.”36 The author covers all aspects of the “catastrophe” of his generation: conscription, exile, hangings (including a long and detailed section on the political executions), corruption, locusts, disease, and the weather. But his sections on the famine are interesting for their careful noting of places and personal names, for Yamin’s reminders that he had himself witnessed them or heard them “from reliable sources,” and for the anecdotal forms he uses to convey the extremes of what he describes. The section most focused on the famine, entitled “Stories that would shake rocks,” hardly tells stories. It reads more like a list that “documents” by meticulously naming the places decimated by famine. Yamin writes, for example, “in the town of Nahr al-Mawt, Butrus Nasr from Beirut, in despair, buried alive

Fragments of wartime memories  139 his four-year-old daughter and two-year-old son before dying himself,” while, in Tripoli, “four different women cannibalized children. They were caught, imprisoned, and died.”37 The list goes on, enumerating similar incidents in Sanayiʿ, Harat Huraiq, Bayt Shabab, Hadath, Riyaq, Damur, and the Bekaʿ Valley. Another account, published in 1921, is Butrus Khuwairi’s Travels in Syria during the World War, 1916 [Al-Rihla al-Suriyya fi al-harb al-ʿumumiyya, 1916]. Subtitled Dangers, Horrors, and Strange Happenings [akhtar wa-ahwal wa-a ‘ ajib], the account was written “so that people will not forget what happened.” Khuwairi, like Yamin, repeats “I saw with my own eyes,” and he provides lists of places, documenting precisely “calamities of biblical proportions,” in the words of a prematurely aged widow from Byblos, who had lost four of her five children. After enumerating the calamites, she bursts into tears and is silent. Unlike the widow, the author does not remain silent, even as he writes of “sights I long to forget,” and, like Yamin, he is careful to name the towns in which he encounters famished and dead children: Junieh, Bkirki, Harisa, Tanurin, the Cedars, Maʿlula, and Damascus. But it is the incident in the town of Yahshush that he specifically wishes to pass on to posterity. “There, I saw the corpses of a woman and her child being torn apart by wolves while crows and vultures hovered overhead.”38 Eyewitness accounts written decades after the war, such Ibrahim Kanʿan’s Lebanon during the Great War [Lubnan fi al-Harb al-Kubra] and Sulaiman Zahir’s Jabal ‘Amil during the World War [Jabal ‘Amil fi al-harb al-kawniyya] provide specifics even as they document episodes that smack of the apocryphal. Kanʿan devotes two sections to the famine. In “The crisis of flour and the poor,” he writes: In April of 1916 a good man spotted a woman with a dead baby in her lap lying in the gutter on the road to ‘Azariyya. She tells him that she has already lost three other children to the famine and weeps so hard that she faints. He leaves her what coins he could and walks away weeping.39 In “The eaters of the flesh of children,” he notes that, in April 1915, in a crowded bakery in Beirut, a fight over bread led one woman to miscarry, another to be strangled, and a third to drop her infant under the trampling feet of the crowd. And “In May 1917 a man by the name of Antonius Shahin ate a boy.”40 Likewise, in Zahir’s account, a section entitled “Terror and vengeance” recounts the following: In April 1917 a group of starving refugees in Damur lost four of their children. Alerted to the event, the local gendarme decided to investigate. In the middle of the night, while they patrolled the streets, they smelled the odor of roasting meat coming from the house of an impoverished man. Inside they found a roasting pot with chopped human parts inside it. Horrified at what they saw, they searched the house and found the heads of the four missing children.41 Yamin’s account includes, in addition to the poetry and lists already mentioned, two “stories” about the famine. The first, “The Story of al-Khawaja Anis and Poor Sara: or the Rich and Those who Died from Starvation,” is written by him and presented as “a true story from Mount Lebanon in February 1917.” The second is a narrative poem by Bishara al-Khuri, “The Incident of the Counterfeit Riyal”

140  Najwa al-Qattan [Hikayat al-riyal al-muzayyaf ]. Both feature young women beset upon by war, hunger, and men as they struggle, without success, to feed young children. In the first instance, Sara, nineteen, resists the sexual advances of her employer, Anis, and dies along with her younger siblings from starvation. In al-Khuri’s poem, however, the unnamed young woman––a mother whose husband has been conscripted––opts for prostitution, only to be paid in counterfeit currency that lands her in jail and sends her young daughter begging in the streets. Justifying her choice, she cries: I have begged at the homes of the wealthy without success. Shall I keep my honor at the expense of my daughter’s life, for if I do, I kill her. No, she will not die for she is innocent. I have to give up either my honor or my daughter, and the fault is with the times and those who refuse to help.42 The lists of horrors and the apocryphal stories in the sources may not in themselves present narratives of what happened. They are more evidence of a “world that desire totally rejects.”43 But they are, as O’Grada has noted in reference to the anecdotal memories he has studied on the Irish famine, quite revealing about people’s attitudes at the time. “Some anecdotes are repeated and become “rhetorical devices”––as with cannibalism––as “powerful metaphor[s] for horror and disaster,” but others are visceral—and could not have been made up.44 Yet, with all its focus on the apocalyptic, the language that the sources use is not of loss and healing but of loss unmoored and unhealed.45

Familial fragments of memory Hanna Mina’s autobiographical novel Fragments of Memory: A Story of a Syrian Family is, as its subtitle indicates, the story of a family told from the perspective of a boy. Although the context of the boy’s life is the interwar period and the deprivations of the Great Depression, the account is infused with stories and references to the Great War. At various points in the narrative, when hunger, disease, and locusts threaten to unravel the fragile existence of the family, the boy’s father invokes World War I, telling the boy: “this is your Safarbarlik.” When local villagers loot a granary in the area, the father defends their action, saying: “What are they supposed to do during the famine? They aren’t to be blamed. During the [Safar Barlik], mothers ate their children. They became like cats and ate their children.”46 Early in ‘Adwan’s play Safarbarlik 0: The Days of Hunger [Safarbarlik 0: Ayyam al-juʿ], published in 1993 and interestingly written in ‘ammiyya, the author raises the question of who suffered more in the war: the men who had to leave or the women who stayed behind. Repeatedly, the play probes the issue of morality in time of war and famine, particularly regarding food taboos and sexual transgressions. Comparing prostitution and rape as acts in which women have no choice, because “it is equally criminal to allow one’s children to starve to death,” he later adds: “and those who ate corpses and mice—were they not forced as well?”47 The play also addresses the issue of memory. In the opening scene, an old couple argues over whether stories of past suffering should be repeated or forgotten.48

Fragments of wartime memories  141 The author is clearly on the side of remembering, for the rest of the work brings into sharp focus the starvation-induced suffering in all its details, as does his other play Safarbarlik 2, where he revisits the issue of historical memory, or, in the words of the chorus, “with history all set for reviewing.” The various accusers who confront Djemal Pasha over the history of the war insist that they are telling things as they were in order “to awaken the oppressor in his grave and in national memory, in the hope that this memory will uproot all oppression.”49 Similarly, ‘Abd al-Fattah Ruwas Qal‘aji’s ‘Urs Halabi wa-hikayat min Safarbarlik (Aleppine Wedding and Tales from Safarbarlik), also published in the 1990s, probes the importance of memory in the course of a dialogue between two veterans (one blind, the other, armless) who return to find their families dead from starvation: What is there to say? The war seeped into our lives, into our past, present, and future. What did we gain? The English have won, the Sharif has won, the Ottomans have lost. We did not know what we were fighting for and the war took everything.50 In these three plays, in Nadia al-Ghazzi’s Shirwal Barhum: ayyam min Safarbarlik (Barhum’s Shirwal: Days from Safarbarlik), a Syrian novel written in the 1990s and dedicated “to all who died of hunger,”51 and in Hanna Mina’s Fragments of Memory, a memoir/novel, the authors straddle the line between history and fiction. They make ample use of historical documents, footnotes, interviews, and photographs and insist that they are telling a real story. In the introduction to al-Ghazzi’s novel, for example, the author writes that hers is “a fiction based on a true story.” The story begins in “the days of the Safarbarlik, when a real young woman, Maryam, embroidered a shirwal [peasant trousers] for her betrothed soldier who never returned. Now an old and poor woman, she has sold the shirwal to the ‘Azm Museum where it is on display.”52 ‘Adwan’s Safarbarlik 0 goes further: the narrators cite primary sources, including, in one instance, Lawrence of Arabia, who reads from his book.53 Although at times pedantic (the reader is lectured on various historical topics, including, in al-Ghazzi’s novel, the Janissaries), these plays and novels are instructive as to the ways in which they present the starvation and the issues on which they focus: in lists, anecdotes, and apocryphal stories in which women and children play the central roles in ways similar to the poetry and accounts already explored. As already mentioned, al-Ghazzi’s novel is the story of a very brief marriage cut short by the war. But it also dwells on the starvation, offering a virtual list of the foods that civilians were reduced to eating, including the corpses of their own children.54 As its title indicates, Qal‘aji’s ‘Urs Halabi wa-hikayat min Safarbarlik also organizes the war story as a family story; aptly, it is subtitled: A Trilogy: The Engagement; The Wedding; The Sorrows. The Damascene couple Hassan and Laila, whose marriage is interrupted by the war, survive, but barely. While Hassan almost dies in Suez, fighting the “Sultan’s war . . . a war that has nothing to do with us,” Laila waits in a city beset by famine, plague, and death, where she repeatedly fends off offers of bread in exchange for sex.55

142  Najwa al-Qattan Ziadeh’s description of his wartime experience, referenced above, is particularly revealing in this respect. “Now the trouble began for me personally at the age of eight when my father . . . was taken ill” shortly after being conscripted. Ziadeh’s father died, like many others, from disease, as almost did his mother after contracting typhus while searching for him in local hospitals. The family moved from Damascus to Nazareth and survived the war thanks to the generosity of relatives, yet the most poignant of Ziadeh’s memories, leaving a “lasting impression,” are of sights and smells of sickness and death: of hopeless patients in filthy hospital wards and of the corpses of men (awash in cold water to preserve them) eerily resembling pickled squash in the way they “were shaped and looked.”56 As many of the sources examined here show, family tropes are ubiquitous in the language of the famine. Against the broader course of the war, civilian suffering is the story of the breakdown of the family, of weddings postponed or cancelled altogether, of mothers who do not feed but rather feed on their children. Even when starvation is kept at bay thanks to smuggling and a modicum of popular resistance, as in the Lebanese film Safarbarlik, the only wedding that takes place is a fake wedding—“a war-wedding”—orchestrated by villagers in order to distract the authorities from the grain-smuggling operation nearby. In Gendering War Talk, Miriam Cooke and Angela Woollacott challenge “the historical constructiveness of the war story that must eliminate the feminine to survive,” as well as “the assumption that war is removed from civilian society, from women and children.”57 Like other writers on wars and catastrophes, including famines, they raise the issue of “how to describe events and emotions for which no language seems sufficient.” For example, Margaret Higonnet’s “Not So Quiet in No Woman’s Land” takes a close look at the gap between the reality of the military atrocities and the challenges that this presented to civilian (familiar and “female”) language.58 The issue of “Expressions of the Inexpressible” is the subtitle and at the center of Margaret Kelleher’s book, The Feminization of Famine. Analyzing texts that deal with the Irish and Bengal famines, she presents a powerful argument that female and, particularly, maternal images dominate the discourses on starvation and death. These expressions of “the unthinkable” are, nonetheless, articulated in tropes of maternal “abandonment, desertion, even infanticide.”59 Many of the sources Kelleher examines also speak of “the walking dead . . . children prematurely aged or with mouths stained green from eating grass.”60 Not surprisingly, poets and writers on the Lebanese and Syrian famine confronted similar challenges in describing war on their civilian front, and they expressed the breakdown of order in their world in familial images and tropes almost identical to those analyzed in Kelleher’s work.

Families and communities In analyzing the sources on the famine, I have so far privileged the language of the family and have ignored the ways in which the story of the famine has been inflected along class, sectarian, and nationalist lines. Certainly, the latter cleavages are referenced in the sources and have been instrumentalized in retrospective accounts in

Fragments of wartime memories  143 which the famine is cast as a specifically Christian, Lebanese, or Arab experience. But by and large, these differences are muted in sources that focus on the experience itself, where the leveling impact of the famine affected everyone but the very rich. As many of the sources examined here indicate, hunger was understood as collective, devouring towns and families regardless of who or where they were. For example, in 1918, Jirjis al-Maqdisi wrote in The Greatest War in History [Aʿzam harb fi al-tarikh] that the yoke of the Ottoman war was such that people forgot their differences, and that Muslims and Christians suffered in equal measure and looked to the Hijazi movement in the hope of being saved from Turkish rule that abused them equally during the war. But once the war ended, they went back to their differences. He underscores his point in the following allegory: A lion, a wolf, and a fox went hunting and captured a donkey, a deer, and a rabbit. The lion asked the wolf to divide the booty, and when he suggested that they respectively eat the above, the lion hanged the wolf. When the lion next turned to the fox, the latter suggested that the lion eat the rabbit for breakfast, the deer for lunch and the donkey for dinner. When the lion asked the fox where he got his good manners from, the fox replies: “I learned my manners from the one that hangs above” [‘allamni husn al-zawq hada l’muʿallaq fawq].61 Significantly, Maqdisi’s reading of the sectarian map of the famine finds echoes in a number of works written in the context of the Lebanese civil war in the 1970s and 1980s, although that was not the case according to Elias Khoury. For example, Musa Zughaib’s zajal “The First Martyrs,” composed “when the statues of the martyrs were being bombed in Martyrs’ Square,” conjures the period of the Great War when terror reigned and men ate barley: There they hanged side by side in Burj Square The Christian priest and Muslim shaykh. You’ve never seen such giant gallows Atop of it the priest and shaykh together.62 This sentiment is echoed in an untitled poem by Elias al-Farran, also written in the late twentieth century: From the gallows, they called forth: “Children of the homeland, stand united!” A beacon to the nation, they have passed. But we are still divided. Sectarian strife is a shame and a disgrace In love of country place your faith.63

144  Najwa al-Qattan Even if, from the vantage point of the sectarian strife of the late twentieth century, the sectarian divisions of their forebears appeared non-existent, we cannot ignore that, for those who lived through it, the experience of the war was hardly redeeming. If the famine erased most differences among people, it did so only because it reduced them all, in the words of Maqdisi, to “an army of beggars,” among whom he distinguished according to categories that had nothing to do with sect or religion but with the breath left in their dying bodies,64 or, as Bishara al-Khuri describes them: “All are beggars, desperate/Dispersed by hunger, they eat grass/ Death written on their faces.”65 Even in the poetry that invokes “the people,” as in that of ‘Arida and Nuʿaima referenced above, the invitation is to bury them and to dispatch them to the rubbish bin of history––hardly the people “awakened to life,” as in Abu al-Qasim al-Shabbi’s iconic poetry. The war makes a single searing appearance in an episode in Rafik Schami’s The Dark Side of Love, a magical novel that rambles through the lives of a large number of heroes and villains over a period of time stretching from the late nineteenth century until the recent past. As searing and telling as it is, the episode is the only one pertaining to the war in a narrative that spills over more than 800 pages of stories. The scene it depicts is memorable, but it is woven into hundreds of other tales and stories of love, lust, intrigue, and violence extending over several generations. It is the summer of 1916 in the fictional village of Mala (a wealthy Christian village not far from Damascus), when “poverty and misery reigned in the Ottoman Empire” and itinerant reapers and their womenfolk flocked to work in the fields despite the puny wages, “for poor pay was still better than starvation.” One hot night the mad landowner’s wife arrived at the field where the men were working: “Suddenly Sarka crouched down, and to the horror of the reapers, raised her dress, bared her buttock, laughed out loud and pissed.” When taken to task for revealing herself in front of men, Sarka laughed and cried, “I’m never ashamed in front of cockroaches,” turning to the men to say: “Yes, what else are you? They whip you, they screw your women, and as for you, you twirl your moustaches with pride in the evenings, thinking of the money your wives will bring home.”66 The gendered and class accents of this exchange are bold and uncompromising. But, first and foremost, it speaks of violence against men’s humanity and their reduction to the status of cockroaches, beyond social and moral compassion. The episode has the air of fable, straddling a world of ghosts and impending violence and death. In Schami’s sprawl of narrative, this episode injects the war at once forcefully yet lightly. It stands alone, not linked to anything in the present, almost forgotten.

Conclusion: “To remember those things we never knew?”67 “Death,” according to Elias Khoury, “liberates memory.” Yet, as he points out in the context of the interview cited above, the famine of the Great War has been

Fragments of wartime memories  145 ignored in public memory. At one level, this chapter addresses some of the reasons behind this forgetfulness; more importantly, it attempts to fill a gap in the literature by bringing together the fragmented and scattered memories of the famine. I argue that there are, broadly speaking, two sites for the location of civilian history. First, there is a literature written by academic and public historians as well as political participants—in other words, nationalist and other public narratives of the war, in which civilian suffering is overshadowed by more heroic acts of nationalist resistance and/or instrumentalized in the service of anti-Ottoman, regional or sectarian identities, Arab, Lebanese, and Christian. It should come as no surprise that these narratives also focus on the issues of responsibility and blame. According to them, nationalist (Arab, Lebanese, and Syrian) identities were awakened and forged amid the political dramas and diplomatic treacheries of the war. The prime actors on this stage are the politicians as well as those who led the Arab Revolt, died for the nation, and signed the wartime agreements. In addition to nationalist articulations of the war, there are non-narratives in which the famine in particular, and horrific suffering in general, occupy center stage and become the only war story. Such narratives are ubiquitous, but they are sometimes eclipsed by nationalist narratives and, perhaps, “shrouded” by shame and humiliation, as Thompson has noted. In this chapter, I suggest that, in addition to their deficit of glory, the partial eclipse of civilians’ suffering may also be due to challenges that this suffering represented both to historical narrativity and to language itself. The various examples of non-narrative forms deployed in the service of civilians’ experience powerfully communicate the horrors they endured. The content of the material is infused with images and metaphors that speak to a suspension in the expected order of things––a rupture in time and of familial and human ties. But the forms (poetry, zajal, lists, anecdotes, and apocryphal stories) in which this content is expressed are also testimony to the rupture brought on by the war––a rupture in the ability of language to give full expression to the horrors of the suffering.

Notes   1 Yusuf al-Birri, in al-Khuwairi, Tarikh al-zajal al-Lubnani, p. 195. All translations in this chapter are the author’s.   2 Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory, p. 139.   3 Khoury, “The Necessity to Forget and to Remember.”   4 Khoury, Gate of the Sun, p. 78.   5 See al-Qattan, “Safarbarlik: Ottoman Syria and the Great War.”   6 O’Grada, Black ’47 and Beyond, p. 216.   7 Ziadeh, “A First-Person Account of the First World War in Greater Syria,” p. 272.   8 Ibid., p. 276.   9 Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 229; Antonius, The Arab Awakening, p. 241. Antonius notes that, per capita, the region might have suffered more than most other theatres of the war. 10 For an analysis of the causes of the famine, see Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria.”

146  Najwa al-Qattan 11 See al-Qattan, “When Mothers Ate their Children.” 12 See Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory, p. 103, for a discussion of the war as a “world of dichotomies” and of “polarity as the fabric of memory.” 13 Tamari, Year of the Locust, p. 5. 14 Thompson, Colonial Citizens, pp. 16–38. 15 O’Grada, Black ’47 and Beyond, pp. 211–13. 16 Khalil Rokaz, quoted in al-Khuwairi, Tarikh al-zajal al-Lubnani, p. 208. 17 al-Khuwairi, Tarikh al-Zajal al-Lubnani, p. 97. 18 On the use of the ‘ammiyya in zajal, and also on different types, ranging from the oral to the written, see Semah, “Modern Arabic Zajal and the Quest for Freedom.” 19 Booth, “Colloquial Arabic Poetry, Politics and the Press in Modern Egypt.” 20 Cachia, “The Use of the Colloquial in Modern Arabic Literature,” p. 14. 21 Keegan, The Face of Battle, p. 269. 22 In al-Khuwairi, Tarikh al-zajal al-Lubnani, p. 195. There are several zajal poets who wrote on the war but are not discussed in this chapter: Emile Lahhud, Wadiʿ al-Riyashi, Asʿad Khoury al-Faghghali, and Yusuf Shalhub. 23 Yamin, Lubnan fi al-harb, 1: 4. 24 In Kanʿan, Lubnan fi al-Harb al-Kubra, pp. 14–15. 25 Nuʿaima, Hams al-jufun, pp. 95–7. 26 Nasib ‘Arida, in Badawi, Mukhtarat min al-shiʿr al-hadith, pp. 111–12. 27 al-Khuri, Shiʿr al-Akhtal al-Saghir, pp. 342, 359–60, 356. Another poem is Daghir’s Tarikh al-Harb al-Kubra shiʿran, pp. 3, 71–2, 79–82. 28 Milhem Hawi, in Shahadah, Kitab al-harb al-kabir. In this respect, both Hawi and alBirri express the concern also articulated in Nuʿaima’s poem “Brother,” with which he not only shares a vision of annihilation but also sets the Lebanese experience within the larger story of the war. In Nuʿaima’s case, the fact should be noted that he fought on the Western Front (as a US soldier),. See Badawi, Mukhtarat min al-shiʿr al-hadith, p. xxxii. 29 In al-Khuwairi, Tarikh al-zajal al-Lubnani, p. 561. 30 Al-Qarri, Rawaiʿ Asʿad al-Sabʿali, pp. 329–31. 31 ‘Adwan, Safarbarlik 2, pp. 191, 249–50. 32 ‘Adwan, Safarbarlik 0, p. 13. 33 Gilsenan, Lords of the Lebanese Marches, p. 121. 34 O’Grada, Black ’47 and Beyond, p. 4. 35 Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory, pp. 121, 139, 30–31. Also see Hayward, Myths and Legends of the First World War. 36 Yamin, Lubnan fi al-harb, 1: 4; 2: 8. 37 Ibid., 1: 156–60. 38 Khuwairi, Al-Rihla al-Suriyya fi al-harb al-ʿumumiyya, pp. 18, 21–2, 26–7, 34. 39 Kanʿan, Lubnan fi al-Harb al-Kubra, pp. 165–7. 40 Ibid., pp. 169, 170–79. What is interesting about this work in addition to its use of stories to document what happened, is its reappearance verbatim, including the two sections mentioned above, in volume 5 of al-Lahham’s Beirut fi al-dhakira al-shaʿbiyya, pp. 124–37. The avowed purpose of this five-volume publication is to “commit people’s memory to history.” 41 Zahir, Jabal ‘Amil fi al-harb al-kawniyya, pp. 36, 39, 41–3, 45–6. 42 Yamin, Lubnan fi al-harb, pp. 8–14, 160–63. 43 Northrop Frye, quoted in Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory, p. 312. 44 O’Grada, Black ’47 and Beyond, pp. 64, 197, 203. See also O’Grada, Famine: A Short History, pp. 40–42, for anecdotes about famine.

Fragments of wartime memories  147 45 On memory and mourning, see Jay Winter, Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning, pp. 5, 7, 17. 46 Mina, Fragments of Memory, p. 173. References to children, women—including mothers––and cannibalism appear in large numbers in other accounts not examined in this chapter. See, for example, Darwaza, Mudhakkirat Muhammad ‘Izzat Darwaza, 1: 236, 253, 287–8. See also Ajay, “Mount Lebanon and the Wilayah of Beirut, 1914–1918,” Appendix, p. 11. 47 ‘Adwan, Safarbarlik 0, pp. 170, 330. 48 Ibid., pp. 10–12. 49 ‘Adwan, Safarbarlik 2, pp. 13, 334. 50 Qalʿaji, ‘Urs Halabi wa-hikayat min Safarbarlik, pp. 184–5. 51 Al-Ghazzi, Shirwal Barhum, p. 7. 52 Ibid., pp. 8–11, 52; for footnotes, pp. 17–19. 53 ‘Adwan, Safarbarlik 0, pp. 5, 6, 17, 18. 54 Al-Ghazzi, Shirwal Barhum, p. 128. 55 Qalʿaji, ‘Urs Halabi, pp. 39, 155–6,162–6, 172. 56 Ziadeh, “A First-Person Account,” pp. 266–7, 269. 57 Cooke and Woollacott, Gendering War Talk, pp. ix, xi. 58 Higonnet, “Not So Quiet in No Woman’s Land.” 59 Kelleher, The Feminization of Famine, p. 7. 60 Ibid., p. 8. 61 Al-Maqdisi, Aʿzam harb fi al-tarikh, p. 100. 62 Zughaib, Qanadil al-zaman: qasa’id wataniyya, p. 55. 63 Elias al-Farran, in al-Khuwairi, Tarikh al-zajal al-Lubnani, p. 425. Also see Frayha, Qabla an ansa, pp. 49–50. 64 Al-Maqdisi, Aʿzam harb fi al-tarikh, pp. 68–9. 65 Al-Khuri, Shiʿr al-Akhtal al-Saghir, pp. 342–50. 66 Schami, The Dark Side of Love, pp. 67–8. The novel was first published in 2004 in German. 67 O’Grada, Black ’47, p. 232.

References Adwan, Mamduh, Safarbarlik 0: ayyam al-juʿ [Safarbarlik 0: Days of Hunger]. Damascus: Majallat al-Hayat, 1994. —— Safarbarlik 2: al-Ghul, Jamal Basha al-Saffah [Safarbarlik 2: The Ghul: Djemal Pasha, the Butcher]. Damascus: Ittihad al-Kuttab al-ʿArab, 1996. Ajay, Nicholas Z., Jr. “Mount Lebanon and the Wilayah of Beirut, 1914–1918: The War Years,” PhD dissertation, Georgetown University, 1973. Antonius, George, The Arab Awakening: The Story of the National Arab Movement. London: Kegan Paul International, 1938. Badawi, Mustafa, Mukhtarat min al-shiʿr al-hadith [Selections from Contemporary Poetry].Beirut: Dar al-Nahar li’l-Nashr, 1969. Booth, Marilyn, “Colloquial Arabic Poetry, Politics and the Press in Modern Egypt,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 24 (1992): 419–40. Cachia, P. J. E. “The Use of the Colloquial in Modern Arabic Literature,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 87/1 (1967): 12–22. Cooke, Miriam, and Woollacott, Angela (eds), Gendering War Talk. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993. ‘

148  Najwa al-Qattan Daghir, Asʿad Khalil, Tarikh al-Harb al-Kubra shiʿran [The History of the Great War in Poetry]. Egypt: Matbaʿat al-Hilal, 1919. Darwaza, Muhammad ‘Izzat, Mudhakkirat Muhammad ‘Izzat Darwaza: sijill hafil bimasirat al-haraka al-ʿArabiyya wa-l-qadiyya al-Filastiniyya khilal qarn min al-zaman [The Memoirs of Muhammad ‘Izzat Darwaza: A Full Record of the March of the Arab Movement and the Palestinian Cause over a Century], 4 vols. Beirut: Dar al-Gharb alIslami, 1993. Frayha, Anis, Qabla an ansa [Before I Forget]. Beirut: Dar al-Nahar, 1979. Fussell, Paul, The Great War and Modern Memory. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975. al-Ghazzi, Nadia, Shirwal Barhum: ayyam min Safarbarlik [Barhum’s Shirwal: Days from Safarbarlik]. Damascus: Dar al-Shadi, 1993. Gilsenan, Michael, Lords of the Lebanese Marches: Violence & Narrative in an Arab Society. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996. Hayward, James, Myths and Legends of the First World War. London: History Press, 2002. Higonnet, Margaret R., “Not So Quiet in No Woman’s Land,” in Miriam Cooke and Angela Woollacott (eds), Gendering War Talk. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993, pp. 205–26. Kanʿan, Ibrahim Naʿum, Lubnan fi al-Harb al-Kubra: 1914–1918 [Lebanon in the Great War: 1914–1918]. Beirut: Muʾassasat ‘Asi, 1974. Keegan, John, The Face of Battle: A Study of Agincourt, Waterloo, and the Somme. London: Penguin, 1983. Kelleher, Margaret, The Feminization of Famine. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1997. Khoury, Elias, Gate of the Sun, trans. Humphrey Davies. New York: Picador, 2007. —— “The Necessity to Forget and to Remember,” in Banipal: Magazine of Modern Arab Literature 12 (2001): 5 [original interview by Sonja Mejcher in German]. al-Khuri, Bishara Abdallah, Shiʿr al-Akhtal al-Saghir [The Poetry of al-Akhtal al-Saghir]. Beirut: Dar al-Kitab al-ʿArabi, 1972. al-Khuwairi, Antoine Butrus, Tarikh al-zajal al-Lubnani [The History of Lebanese Zajal]. Sarba, Lebanon: Dar al-Abjadiyya, 2011. Khuwairi, Butrus, Al-rihla al-Suriyya fi al-harb al-ʿumumiyya, 1916: akhtar wa-ahwal wa aʿajib [Travels in Syria during the World War: Dangers, Horrors, and Strange Happenings], ed. Yusuf Tuma al-Bustani. Cairo: al-Matbaʿa al-Yusufiyya, 1921. al-Lahham, Khalid (ed.), Beirut fi al-dhakira al-shaʿbiyya [Beirut in Popular Memory], 5 vols. Beirut: Sharikat al-Zawaya, 1992. al-Maqdisi, Jirjis, Aʿzam harb fi al-tarikh [The Greatest War in History]. Beirut: al-Matbaʿa al-ʿIlmiyya, 1918. Mina, Hanna, Fragments of Memory: A Story of a Syrian Family, trans. Olive Kenny and Lorne Kenny. Austin: University of Texas, 1993. Nuʿaima, Mikhail, Hams al-jufun. Beirut: Sadir al-Rihani, 1943. O’Grada, Cormac, Black ’47 and Beyond: The Great Irish Famine in History, Economy, and Memory. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999. —— Famine: A Short History. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2009. Qalʿaji, ‘Abd al-Fattah Ruwas, ‘Urs Halabi wa-hikayat min Safarbarlik [Aleppine Wedding and Tales from Safarbarlik]. Damascus: Ministry of Culture, 1984. al-Qarri, Amin (ed.). Rawaiʿ Asʿad al-Sabʿali: shaʿir al-dayʿa al-Lubaniyya [The Gems of Asʿad al-Sabʿali: Poet of the Lebanese Village]. Damascus: Dar al-Takwin, 1998. al-Qattan, Najwa, “When Mothers Ate their Children: Wartime Memory and the Language of Food in Syria and Lebanon,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 46 (2014): 719–36.

Fragments of wartime memories  149 —— “Safarbarlik: Ottoman Syria and the Great War,” in From the Syrian Land to the States of Syria and Lebanon, ed. Thomas Philipp and Christoph Schumann. Beirut: Orient-Institut der DMG Beirut, 2004, pp. 163–73. Schami, Rafik, The Dark Side of Love, trans. Anthea Bell. Northampton, MA: Interlink Books, 2009. Schilcher, L. Schatkowski, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” in Problems of the Modern Middle East in Historical Perspective: Essays in Honour of Albert Hourani, ed. John P. Spagnolo. Oxford: Middle East Centre, 1992. Semah, David, “Modern Arabic Zajal and the Quest for Freedom,” Journal of Arabic Literature 26/1 (1995): 80–92. Shahadah, Salim Jurj, Kitab al-harb al-kabir [The Long History of the War]. New York: al-Majalla al-ʿArabiyya, 1917. Tamari, Salim, Year of the Locust: A Soldier’s Diary and the Erasure of Palestine’s Ottoman Past. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011. Thompson, Elizabeth, Colonial Citizens: Republican Rights, Paternal Privilege, and Gender in French Syria and Lebanon. New York: Columbia University Press, 2000. Winter, Jay, Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning: The Great War in European Cultural History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Yamin, Antun, Lubnan fi al-harb: dhikra al-hawadith wa-l-mazalim fi Lubnan fi al-harb al ‘umumiyya, 1914–1918 [Lebanon during the War: The Memory of the Events and Injustices in Lebanon during the Global War], 2 vols. Beirut: al-Matbaʿa al-Adabiyya, 1919. Zahir, Sulaiman, Jabal ‘Amil fi al-harb al-kawniyya [Jabal ‘Amil during the World War]. Beirut: Dar al-Majmuʿat al-Sharqiyya, 1986. Ziadeh, Nicola, “A First-Person Account of the First World War in Greater Syria,” in The First World War as Remembered in the Countries of the Eastern Mediterranean, ed. Olaf Farschid, Manfred Kropp and Steven Dähne. Würzburg: Ergon, 2006, pp. 265–77. Zughaib, Musa, Qanadil al-zaman: qasa’id wataniyya [The Lanterns of Time: Patriotic Poems]. Beirut: n.p., 1977.

7 Economy, environment, and famine World War I from the perspective of the Syrian interior1 Elizabeth Williams

The years of World War I were a time of misery, hunger, and desperation for much of the population of Bilad al-Sham.2 A significant number of memoirs and novels attest to the impact of this period and the memories of the deprivation it entailed.3 The factors contributing to the famine ranged from the Anglo-French naval blockade and challenges that hindered adequate agricultural production— such as drought and locusts—to an unstable currency and grain speculation. The influence of some of these factors varied geographically––the coastal regions and Mount Lebanon suffered more from the blockade, while the interior was more exposed to drought and other threats to agricultural production. All areas were affected by staggering inflation, currency devaluation, transportation difficulties, and labor shortages. These dilemmas, in turn, encouraged hoarding and speculation. Ottoman officials, including Djemal Pasha, who was the military governor of the region until his departure at the end of 1917, confronted multiple challenges in their attempts to cope with these problems. While their administrative strategies often involved harsh exactions on the local population in order to ensure the provisioning of the military forces stationed in the area, their correspondence also provides insight into the various measures taken to respond to the increasingly desperate plight of the local civilian population. Requisitions were not just for military needs; they could also be implemented for the sake of civilians, such as projects to redistribute grain. The following chronologically and geographically anchored analysis examines economic developments in the Syrian interior, focusing in particular on Aleppo and its hinterlands as well as the grain-growing regions between Damascus and Aleppo around Hama and Homs. While it does not claim to be a comprehensive narrative of events, it aims to demonstrate the regionally differentiated nature of the war’s impact and the strategies and policies deployed by Ottoman officials as they grappled with the multiple challenges facing the region’s wartime economy. In contrast to the proliferation of memoirs and fiction that deal with the period, the scholarly literature on the war’s impact on the region is still relatively limited, and the majority tends to focus on the coastal regions and Mount Lebanon.4 The plight of Mount Lebanon became especially acute since it produced only small quantities of grain and had to import most of what it needed from the surrounding provinces or from Anatolia.5 Thus it suffered disproportionately from the

Economy, environment, and famine  151 Anglo-French blockade and transport deficiencies. Linda Schatkowski Schilcher provides a wider regional perspective and was the first to highlight the impact of the allied military blockade of the coast, although her work is based primarily on consular, especially German and Austrian, archival sources.6 M. Talha Çiçek’s recent book on Djemal Pasha’s governance of the region during the war draws heavily on the largely neglected Ottoman archives on this topic, providing insight into the factors shaping administrative decisions and actions, thereby demonstrating how local administrators did indeed attempt to cope with increasingly difficult circumstances.7 This chapter’s emphasis on the Syrian interior aims both to extend our understanding of wartime deprivation beyond the coast and to expose the administrative, economic, and agricultural bonds that persisted and deteriorated in this space during the war and their connection to broader empire-wide policies. The grain-producing regions of Bilad al-Sham’s interior, such as the Hauran south of Damascus and the region around Homs and Hama, could reliably supply the grain needs of both the coast and the interior given favorable conditions.8 In addition to these areas, the hinterland of the province of Aleppo contained vast stretches of land suitable for grain cultivation. Nonetheless, the region encompassed by Bilad al-Sham, while including a number of breadbasket areas, was also limited in key ways. It was prone to significant fluctuations in rainfall from year to year, with a corresponding influence on the harvest. Additionally, pests threatened the crops, with locusts being perhaps the most notorious.9 But the greatest challenges to provisioning the area perhaps took place beyond the fields, where limited means of transportation, price speculation, inflation, requisitioning, and tax collection all challenged the region’s ability to feed itself. While Aleppo and Damascus may not have experienced famine as early as Mount Lebanon or Beirut, events there contributed to the misery experienced in these coastal regions, and, as the war progressed, the intensity of misery in the interior resembled that which had initially affected the coast. By the final years of the war, northern Bilad al-Sham was suffering from drought and its attendant consequences, shortages of labor, and demands from the Ministry of Finance––all of which made internal provisioning increasingly difficult. It also found that it could not rely on sources of external provisioning, as transport from the north was lacking and forces under General Allenby and Faisal were advancing from the south. Furthermore, because of the latter’s advance through and towards grain-growing regions in the south, surrounding areas of Bilad al-Sham were increasingly reliant on the dwindling supplies of this northern region, which put yet more strain on the region’s resources.10 Despite the efforts of Ottoman officials to confront these various challenges amid a multitude of complicating factors, the escalating crisis proved virtually intractable. While bountiful grain harvests from the interior seemed initially to offer a solution to deprivation on the coast and in Mount Lebanon, little grain flowed to these regions. Meanwhile, considerable suffering spread inland. In tracing these complex dynamics, this chapter provides insight into the interior reverberations of the better-known coastal famine during World War I.

152  Elizabeth Williams

1914–1915: Panic in Beirut, a bountiful harvest in Aleppo, and price inflation in Damascus When the Ottoman Empire entered the war in the fall of 1914, efforts to manage resources in Bilad al-Sham were already underway. One observer noted that, earlier that summer, military personnel had been walking the markets in Aleppo and giving merchants orders regarding who could and could not sell.11 As early as August 1914, massive requisitioning began to provide supplies for Djemal Pasha’s Egypt campaign.12 In October, the war minister suggested that French ships were attempting to smuggle out wheat, barley, and chickpeas under cover of silk cocoons and ordered that, if there was a surplus of these provisions, it should be acquired and stored for the army, urging careful consideration of ways to prevent such smuggling from the provinces of Aleppo and Beirut specifically.13 In the interior, despite some requisitioning, provisions appear to have held steady during the final months of 1914 and early 1915.14 In contrast, according to the German consul, conditions in Beirut quickly deteriorated.15 As a result of requisitioning measures, as well as obstacles to transportation from the interior, the situation rapidly spiraled out of control in the city, which needed eight wagons of wheat a day to feed its population.16 Subsequent efforts to ensure the supply and control the price of grains proved challenging, especially in Beirut. During the early months of the war, farmers and merchants were generally allowed to buy and sell grain according to market prices.17 However, problems with this policy quickly became apparent in Bilad al-Sham, and their impacts were most salient in Beirut. According to the Beiruti newspaper al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, consumers in Beirut, panicking at the sight of an enemy warship in the Mediterranean or a delay in the train’s arrival, started buying flour at inflated prices if they could afford it.18 The newspaper observed that the result of such responses was a rise in the price of a bag of flour to an exorbitant 20 to 30 gurush beyond the fixed price, causing extreme suffering and hunger among the poor, who had to buy their bread on a day to day basis.19 Matters were exacerbated by the fact that, in Aleppo, a disagreement between grain traders and farmers delayed a large shipment of grain (200 wagons) destined for Beirut.20 Djemal Pasha threw his authority behind resolving the crisis by issuing an order that the wheat be sent from Aleppo as well as Damascus, but it was still slow in arriving.21 In other efforts to ameliorate the situation, Shukri al‘Asali, the civil inspector [mufattish al-mulkiya] in Aleppo, was commissioned to mediate between the farmers and Aleppine grain merchants, while the governor of Beirut made a two-day trip to Damascus to determine in person why the grain was not being shipped.22 Wagons of wheat did trickle into the city—sometimes two a day, sometimes ten—and the Beirut municipality ensured it was milled and distributed under police surveillance, but the amounts were still woefully insufficient.23 According to one report, 48 wagons (530 tons) arrived in January 1915, 25 wagons (325 tons) in February, 25 wagons (350 tons) in March, and 20 wagons (260 tons) between 1 and 15 April.24 Crowds, consisting especially of the poor, gathered before the stores of flour sellers to buy bread at fixed prices.25 Clearly some controls were necessary to prevent “market prices,” inflated by panic buying,

Economy, environment, and famine  153 from making bread inaccessible to the poor. Despite these measures, the situation remained dire. In early May, a German report declared that the governor, Bekir Sami Bey, had lost the public’s confidence and was believed to be collaborating with speculators.26 While the extent to which this was reality rather than rumor is unclear, by June 1915 Bekir Sami Bey had been reassigned as the governor of Aleppo and replaced by Mustafa Azmi Bey, who would remain the governor of Beirut until June 1918.27 Frustration at the inability to procure adequate supplies of grain from the interior was intensified by the knowledge that inland, particularly in Aleppo, Hama, and Homs, there was plenty of grain.28 In contrast to southern Bilad al-Sham and some coastal areas, where locusts devastated much of the crop, the 1915 harvest in the province of Aleppo was indeed quite bountiful.29 The governor of Aleppo, Mehmet Djelal Bey, wrote to the Minister of the Interior Talat in May that it was unlike anything seen in twenty to thirty years and described how he planned to deal with the abundance.30 Having already sent supplies to Istanbul, provided for the needs of the Fourth Army and the local troops, and provisioned Beirut and Mount Lebanon, a task for which he acknowledged there were dwindling means of transport, the governor noted that the province still had 10 million kilograms of wheat and approximately 5 million kilograms of barley in its tithe granaries, while the public [ahali] had another eight to ten times that in their own possession.31 While there were clearly some complications in transporting grain to the coast, provisioning these areas was an administrative priority. Another administrative concern was ensuring that the bounty would remain as beneficial as possible in the long term. Abundance tended to drive costs down, which would appear to work in the government’s favor, but it also had the effect of reducing the revenues that could be raised by selling excess crops for money. As a result it would be difficult to get tax farmers to bid on the crops in exchange for cash. Not only would they not be able to recuperate their costs if they bid based on the previous year’s rates, but transportation difficulties (and increased costs presumably) presented an obstacle to profitably sending the grain to the areas most in need.32 To compound the situation, not only were transport options dwindling, but export was forbidden. Thus, Djelal Bey deemed tax farming for cash impossible and, instead, proposed bidding for the provisions themselves––i.e., inkind tax collection––according to either the previous year’s estimation registers or a new estimation, an option he declared particularly preferable to the system of “emaneten idare”––i.e., collection by government agents or officials.33 He also insisted that tax farmers should agree to collect on the condition that they ensure transport for each village’s in-kind provisions to the granaries—given the scarcity of transport, the government did not want this responsibility added to their costs.34 Such administrative suggestions aimed to preserve the value of the harvest given the challenges posed by lower prices and limited transport. The bounty of the crop undermined its economic value as cash revenue––having the crop in hand was considered more valuable. While these dynamics were troubling, it is important to emphasize that, at least during these early months of the war, transport options still existed and currency

154  Elizabeth Williams inflation had not yet become a major issue. The railroad, as discussed above, was still available to transport grain from the interior for civilian consumption, although the number of wagons that could be dispatched at any given time raised concerns for officials. The director of the railroad even went personally to Aleppo to look into the wagon situation.35 Regarding currency, the Ottoman government did not start circulating paper bills until sometime in 1915. These were backed initially by gold through the Ottoman Public Debt Administration and later by German government bonds, but they quickly depreciated in value.36 As the war progressed, this depreciation would have a serious impact on Ottoman administrators’ abilities to provision the region. Given this context, the ongoing significance of in-kind tax collection became even more apparent, as the intrinsic value of foodstuffs for survival made them an object of exchange more precious than money itself (especially paper money)—a trend that would intensify over the ensuing years.37 By the end of 1915, however, despite such efforts to exploit the provisioning capacity of an excellent harvest, there was actually not much grain available on the open market, and prices were rising. As the governor of Aleppo had suggested, the tithe had indeed been collected in kind, removing that grain from circulation, and the army had made additional purchases to supply its needs. Grain shortages in cities were exacerbated by the fact that grain-rich regions hesitated to send their supplies to urban centers, which encouraged price increases.38 The High Command then decided to lift the ban that had forbidden the export of crops outside the borders of the province of Syria. Despite limited transport means— rail consignments were no longer permitted, and most pack animals had been confiscated by the army—traders nonetheless found ways to export their goods to the markets where prices were higher. As grains flowed out of the interior to these places, prices began to rise in Damascus too. The city, which previously had seen only a slight increase of 20 to 22 francs per 100 kilograms, suddenly saw a twofold rise in prices. The government tried to set prices but found them impossible to maintain. A society to purchase grain was formed to smooth the transition, but sufficient funds could not be procured.39 Despite a good harvest, given the removal of large amounts of grain from the market and the unevenness of grain prices throughout the region, allowing free trade in grain clearly posed a number of challenges. These provisioning difficulties and the extent to which they prevented access to adequate sustenance for the local population, combined with the stationing of a large number of troops in the region, contributed to the emergence of disease as another threat to people’s well-being. In April 1915, typhus broke out in Damascus, and by the end of the year it had spread to Aleppo as well.40 According to one report, 500 people in Aleppo succumbed daily to typhus in December 1915. Doctors meanwhile were in short supply, as they had either been conscripted or had died from the epidemic themselves.41 The outbreak prompted Fuad, Djemal Pasha’s chief of staff, to write to the Interior Ministry for an additional 2,000 lira in funds to halt the threat posed by the disease to both the army and the local population. The funds were to support the establishment of quarantine areas, five

Economy, environment, and famine  155 mobile disinfecting detachments, and three disinfecting stations.42 Djemal Pasha’s decision to engage a German engineer for 15,000 liras to design and build a system that would ensure a fresh water supply for the city demonstrates the severity of the problem and the lengths considered necessary for its eradication.43

1916: Increasing grain scarcity, inflation, and investments in agriculture The spate of epidemics continued in 1916 as grain became increasingly scarce and inflation worsened.44 Swarms of locusts continued to threaten agricultural production.45 In 1915, an eradication campaign organized by German experts led to the plowing of 324,163 dönüms of land to destroy the insects in the provinces of Beirut, Syria, and Aleppo and the collection of a total of 999,222 kilograms of locust eggs in those provinces, as well as in Zor to the east.46 When locusts struck again in 1916 in another plague, which extended from Zor to Antalya, Kütahya, and even Smyrna in the west, the government was ready.47 Battalions, despite concerns about how they would be provisioned, were dispatched to help control the damage. In the vicinity of northern Bilad al-Sham, a detachment already stationed in Urfa was to undertake the necessary measures there, while troops from Gallipoli were ordered to Aleppo and others from Adana were ordered to Zor.48 To aid these efforts, 8,000 lira in emergency funds was sent to Zor via the Aleppo defterdar to assist further in the eradication campaign.49 Given the extraordinary expenses of this campaign, it was considered necessary to add an additional 20 million gurush to the budget, while “more than 100 wagons with zinc plates, chemical materials, and necessary implements” had been ordered from Germany for future outbreaks.50 This mobilization of resources seems to have kept a disaster on the scale of the previous year in Palestine at bay. Despite these steps to blunt the impact of the locusts, other factors conspired to make grain scarce in the region. With the outbreak of revolt in the Hijaz, significant quantities of grain were sent south to maintain the fidelity of the Bedouin.51 Another 20,000 tons were rendered unavailable when farmers in the Djebel Druze, a region southeast of Damascus, refused to submit their harvest for collection. Elsewhere farmers, wary from previous requisitioning, hid their harvests, both in an attempt to maintain enough grain on hand for maintenance and for sowing and out of fear of Bedouin raids.52 While drought does not seem to have been a problem, hot, easterly winds destroyed a fourth of the crop in the Hauran and affected other areas just as the grain was reaching maturity.53 In March, the governor of Aleppo, Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey, wrote to the Interior Ministry in immense frustration; the city needed six wagons of grain a day, but not even three were reaching it. He insisted that the government should order its provisioning official to supply the requisite amount of grain to the province. If it did not, he claimed that he would be forced to open the in-kind tithe granaries of the state in order to distribute provisions and feed the local population, thereby averting famine.54 In other words, the previous year’s bountiful harvest in Aleppo had deteriorated into a situation whereby the city could now no longer adequately provision itself.

156  Elizabeth Williams Throughout the region, food shortages exacerbated by lack of transportation and the ongoing blockade became widespread and were accompanied by further outbreaks of disease. In Beirut, the Deutsche-Palästina Bank reported that the situation had deteriorated considerably on account of the inability to import basic foodstuffs and clothing since the start of the war, combined with a lack of export capacity and thus any monetary influx.55 Meanwhile a cholera epidemic broke out among the troops stationed at Islahiye near Aleppo—reports in August indicated that as many as thirty troops were dying every day.56 But, as with the typhus outbreak in Aleppo, the official response was swift and apparently worked well enough for an Ottoman officer to declare in his diary by early September that it had been “promptly stamped out in the ranks.”57 On the other hand, the same report noted that famine and starvation had reached an “alarming” state, spreading beyond Mount Lebanon to all of Syria, even affecting areas typically considered breadbasket regions, such as Homs, Hama, and Damascus.58 Damascus, a city that required 70 tons a day to feed its population adequately, could at best obtain 50 tons, although more often only 40 were available. Tensions rose to the point that scuffles erupted before bakeries, leading to guards being stationed at them.59 Given these ongoing difficulties, the Ottoman government revised its approach in late 1916, a period identified by Şevket Pamuk as the second stage in Ottoman provisioning strategies. In order to prevent hoarding and to cope with shortages resulting from limited transportation options and low levels of production in some areas, the government decided to allow farmers to keep what they needed for seed and sustenance. The remainder had to be turned over to government officials.60 In Damascus, agents assigned by the government to procure grain bought at fixed rates from farmers, then raised the price by between 6 and 10 percent before selling it to the government.61 Concessionaires contracted with the government to deliver a minimum tonnage per region—e.g., 80,000 tons from the Hauran, 33,000 from the Damascus region. Discontent mounted as a result of these policies, and the local authorities scrambled to ascertain a better way to deal with the situation and prevent increasing scarcity and famine.62 In an attempt to ameliorate the situation, the administration in Bilad al-Sham turned to a new set of strategies. Djemal Pasha devised a plan whereby grain from the regions around Hama and Homs was to be sold to Beirut and Mount Lebanon and assured transportation on the railroad.63 Despite the official policy that allowed farmers to keep enough for seed and sustenance, the resulting requisitions were so harsh that in some areas around Hama farmers complained that all of their grain had been taken from them.64 In Damascus, the government again allowed free trade, lifting price controls and removing the grain consortium.65 The result was rampant speculation and a sudden drop in the value of paper money, as the government paid farmers 45 piasters in paper money while merchants paid them in coin. To buy grain, meanwhile, people were forced to convert their paper money into coin, leading the paper lira to drop quickly in value, from 60 piasters to half that.66 With paper money at half its previous value and the price of flour double what it had been before the war, people were essentially paying four times the pre-war prices for bread.67 Alarmed at the possibility that paper money could

Economy, environment, and famine  157 go out of use completely, the government reinstated price controls, raising prices by 50 percent. To penalize speculation, it seized a large grain cargo from the Hauran, which, according to the Austrian consul, was “a just punishment of the speculation of merchants.”68 In Aleppo, the Austrian consul commented that the governor, Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey, had successfully addressed grievances in the tax assessment and tax collection process though the presence of financial inspectors and his own personal inspection trips throughout the countryside.69 These moves by government officials suggest an exasperation with the situation and a determination to use a variety of means to foil speculation and corruption. However, they also had to contend with villagers who, even more wary of the unreliability of paper money, had yet one more reason not to sell their grain. The refusal of both Bedouin and villagers to sell led to a coin deficiency in Damascus and encouraged paper money’s further depreciation.70 Meanwhile, in areas along the coast, despite attempts by the press to place a positive spin on matters, the situation continued to decline.71 Conditions were worst in Mount Lebanon, where, for example, one report indicated that, in a once-thriving village, a quarter of the population had died from famine. Matters were somewhat better in Beirut, where, as of the summer of 1916, half the gas lights still worked, the tramway still operated, and there was a train once a week. Medicine was also scarce, but food remained the major issue.72 By October 1916, basic necessities such as bread, milk, and meat had doubled in cost since before the war, while the price of fresh vegetables had quadrupled; dried vegetables were between five and six times more expensive, and salt eight times. Prices for cloth and clothing items rose anywhere from two to four times, while items such as sugar rose exponentially, to thirty times the pre-war price, and petroleum’s cost increased twenty-three times. Even animal feed, such as barley, and straw sold at five times the pre-war cost.73 Given the disparities in value between coin and paper money, people could have paid even double these inflated prices in comparison to pre-war rates by the time money had exchanged hands. While government officials could at least experiment with various strategies aimed at reining in inflation and halting currency depreciation, transport posed a far more inflexible dilemma. Even when price controls were lifted, restrictions remained in effect on the means of transportation available for distribution. Rail transport, in particular, was utterly insufficient because of a lack of coal, wood, and shops to make necessary repairs: over the course of the war, it essentially became unavailable for civilian needs.74 Meanwhile, most pack animals, including camels, oxen, horses, and mules, if they had not died from insufficient food or disease, had been requisitioned.75 In 1916, when Djemal Pasha ordered grain to be sent to Lebanon and freely distributed, a major concern was whether the lack of transport could be overcome in order to make the delivery.76 In addition to limited transportation options, labor shortages complicated government attempts to increase agricultural production. In October, the government announced the Provisional Law of Agricultural Service, which stated that anyone not serving in the military could be required to perform agricultural work or face fines or imprisonment.77 Previously, starting in early 1916, the Ottoman state had

158  Elizabeth Williams instituted a policy of “war agriculture” that involved handing out free seeds, providing classes in agriculture, and arranging loans of agricultural implements.78 To fund these activities, 700,000 lira was allotted to purchase seeds, 400,000 lira each for livestock and new machinery, and 200,000 lira to battle locusts.79 In Aleppo, poor peasants were given agricultural implements, and in February 1917 a bacteriology laboratory was being established in the city in an effort to combat epizootics.80 Nonetheless, shortage of labor remained an issue and military battalions were also assigned to undertake agricultural work. Apparently they met with limited success, as soldiers deployed from other regions lacked the necessary knowledge of the local environment to practice agriculture successfully in Bilad al-Sham.81

1917: New strategies, drought, and an agricultural bank scandal Following the experiments with free trade versus price controls in the fall of 1916, the government attempted a compromise between a wholly free market and regulation in 1917. Producers were required to give a set amount to the government as either an in-kind tithe or a purchase at a rate below market price, but after this deduction producers were at liberty to dispose of the remainder as they saw fit.82 While this policy favored those with surpluses, empire-wide it also began to relieve some of the supply pressures on cities as it encouraged producers once again to sell their grain.83 Nonetheless, currency depreciation continued to be a problem. In an effort to stop the precipitous fall in the value of paper money and thus, he insisted, improve the plight of the poor, Djemal Pasha ordered that, on a set day in May 1917, parity would be established between the value of gold coin and that of paper money. To maintain the reduction in the price of gold, he threatened to start exiling prominent notables, bankers, and merchants from Beirut, Damascus, and Aleppo to Anatolia if the rate of exchange rose again.84 Despite these threats, when the policy went into effect, gold prices declined for merely four days.85 Some prominent locals were exiled to Adana, but, when inflation continued after six months, Djemal Pasha dropped the policy entirely and the exiles returned.86 Inflation persisted throughout the empire, although the degree varied by region. By August of 1917, 1 lira in gold was worth 540 piasters in Aleppo and 555 piasters in Beirut, compared with 430 piasters in Istanbul.87 To compound the difficulties resulting from currency inflation, in 1917 drought conditions afflicted northern Bilad al-Sham, significantly impacting the harvest. To mitigate the drought’s impact on tax collection, the governor of Aleppo was able successfully to petition the Ministry of Finance for permission to proceed with the estimation method rather than using emaneten idare in the tithe-taking process,88 but the adverse effects of these conditions were intensified by a number of other factors. One report from the Hama region indicated that, in addition to lack of rain, the harvest was reduced because, as a result of the previous year’s requisitions for Beirut and Mount Lebanon, villagers had not been able to find enough seed to fully plant their lands.89 Bedouin had inflicted losses, as they too, affected by the drought, began to encroach on settled areas. When the affected

Economy, environment, and famine  159 areas formally petitioned the province, the mutasarrıf visited the area himself and reported that crops were indeed lacking, including some crops that had been planted “secretly” in response to the peasants having all of their grain for seed and food taken the previous year––although the clandestine crops might have evaded state supervision, they could not elude hail, which had been the source of much of the damage to the crops in the area.90 In all, the effects of adverse environmental conditions were thus intensified by inequitable collection and distribution practices. Nonetheless, while amounts extracted from villagers were harsh, at times leaving them without enough seed to fully plant their lands, there does seem to have been an administrative logic to the purchases demanded based on the relative agricultural production of different lands. When determining the amount to be purchased from the areas of Iskenderun, Baylan, and Antioch, for example, the dominance of silk production and their less extensive agriculturally productive lands were taken into account. Meanwhile, around Idlib, Kilis, and Reyhaniye, a two and a half fold exaction was imposed because the area was considered better supplied on account of smuggling and lack of drought. In contrast, in the administrative district of Kale, only onefold of the tithe was to be exacted.91 The damage wrought by the drought and reflected in a reduction in the tithe revenues for 1917 by as much as 65 percent (sometimes even 91 percent) from the year before provoked anxiety among the local population regarding the status of provisions.92 A crisis erupted when an employee of the agricultural bank in Aleppo refused to release some of the funds entrusted to his care for public provisioning purposes.93 Villagers had already been stretched to the limit by demands on their resources. The tithe was being collected anywhere between two to two and half times its usual rate in an effort to provision not only the Fourth Army, stationed in the region, but also the Seventh Army of the Yıldırım group.94 Apparently the bank was supposed to have 20,000 lira in its coffers, but as of the time of the incident it had only an insufficient 5,000. The threat of funds not being available for public provisioning led to severe difficulties in tax assesssment, as both the collection of tithe and purchases came to a standstill. While officials concluded that the bank did not do anything illegal in withholding funds, the action severely shook public confidence in the government, and the governor Bedri Bey, wrote with extreme urgency to request that steps be taken to ensure it did not happen again.95 Currency inflation, requisitioning, and drought were already creating crisis conditions. Local administrators were thus extremely concerned about the panic that would ensue should the agricultural bank abrogate its obligations regarding provisioning.

1918: A tax collection crisis and preparations for retreat By 1918, the region of Bilad al-Sham and the army it provisioned, despite the promise of a good harvest, were both in increasingly desperate straits.96 According to one estimate, the previous year’s drought had ultimately reduced Aleppo’s revenues by 50 percent, while decreased grasses available for pasturing animals meant that Bedouin had started releasing their animals into crop fields.97

160  Elizabeth Williams Djemal Pasha had departed his post and returned to Istanbul in December 1917, and the army in the region was now under the control of the German General Falkenhayn.98 Meanwhile enemy troops were approaching from the south, and much of the most fertile land in that region was under occupation. Towards the coast and the northwest, the provinces of Adana and Beirut and the mutasarrıflık of Mount Lebanon were in no position to provide provisions. To the east, the fertile Surutch and Harran plains in Urfa were not planted “even one handbreadth.”99 Thus provisioning had to come from some regions of the province of Syria and Aleppo’s central liva. In fact, the governor of Aleppo acknowledged, if the enemy’s advance from the south continued, the Hauran could also be lost as a source of provisions, leaving only Aleppo.100 Reflecting the severity of the situation, a German report described the daily sight of people dead from hunger in the streets of Beirut, Tripoli, Damascus, and Aleppo.101 Given these desperate conditions, local officials were anxious to make the most of what was expected to be an excellent harvest after a long period of rain.102 As the process of tithe-taking loomed, officials sought to administer it by a means that would ensure the provisioning of the army and the needs of the local population. Once again they found themselves at odds with the Financial Ministry, whose demands were no longer mitigated by the presence of Djemal Pasha, making it unwilling to negotiate over 1918 taxcollection methods.103 At issue again in Aleppo was whether the tithe would be taken by emaneten idare or by estimation.104 In 1918, local opinion in the form of the governor, Bedri Bey, and the general committee [meclis-i umumi] of the province of Aleppo was still firmly against the emaneten idare method, proclaiming that it would encourage smuggling and hoarding and expose the grain ripe for threshing to theft. In addition, the estimation method would require fewer workers by depending on the previous year’s tithe income realization—a particularly important consideration given the difficulty of finding adequate employees.105 In fact, Bedri Bey insisted that, despite the deficit in crops the previous year, because emaneten idare had not been possible, they had actually been able to administer public provisioning with ease [mahsulatındaki fıkdana rağmen refah ile tedvir edilen iaşe-i umumiye].106 Despite these objections, the Finance Ministry insisted on emaneten idare, leading the governor to threaten his resignation.107 Bedri Bey assured the Interior Ministry that his resistance was only because he was certain that not even 50 percent of the tithe could be collected by emaneten idare. It was essential that it be collected as fully as possible since, even if the provinces supplied what they had contracted to provide for the army, the latter would still need to purchase 25 million kilograms of crops.108 Despite these protests, tithe collection proceeded as the central government desired—by July, the governor, having inspected the process, reported that he had observed an unbelievable amount of corruption [akıl ve hayalin ihata edemeyeceğine kadar keskin bir su-i istimal ve irtikab içinde buldum] and requested that the state send two financial and two civil inspectors to assist in curbing abuses.109 Despite such efforts to ensure adequate provisioning, by September the army was still some 8 million kilograms short. In order to prevent the army from taking the provisions by force from the local population, the governor, Atıf Bey, suggested that he be allowed to make half-free purchases.

Economy, environment, and famine  161 Purchases on the free market, he argued, would require 40 million lira, which was beyond the government’s means, and supplies could not be brought from Konya or Ankara since there was no coal or wood for the railroad. Insisting that he was trying to balance the army’s need with the public interest, he requested that he be allowed to make purchases of onefold the tithe at 25 gurush per kilo.110 At the nexus of strained financial resources, transport difficulties, and inflation, his appeal represented an attempt to reach some form of compromise given the realities of the situation. In October, following the occupation of Damascus by the forces of the Arab Revolt under Faisal and British troops under General Allenby, local Ottoman officials gathered in Aleppo to take stock of the situation. Important documents and valuable paper money were to be sent to Konya, but there still remained the issue of how to evacuate if necessary. Once again, the difficulties of accessing resources and maintaining employees at their posts, especially given the enemy’s advance, became clear as the officials weighed their options with respect to a retreat by railway. Railroad employees had deserted the Hama line, and workers from Kilis and Aintab tasked with providing wood from the surrounding forests had returned to their villages. Thus, the governor appealed to Enver Pasha to dispatch “for the future” a bit of coal from his reserve.111 Even in planning retreat, Ottoman officials found themselves struggling to cope with the various factors that had progressively worsened over the course of the war—unavailable resources, transportation difficulties, and lack of labor. Meanwhile, one of the factors that had been so instrumental in amplifying these difficulties—the Allied blockade—started relinquishing its stranglehold on the coast. As officials in Aleppo prepared to evacuate, British and French troops began to distribute relief to the very populations in the coastal regions and Mount Lebanon that they had helped to starve for four years.112 Of course, given the interconnected nature of provisioning in Bilad alSham, while these areas had indeed suffered the brunt of the blockade’s effect, they were by no means the only ones that had endured its impact. Indeed, the futile Ottoman attempts to respond to the better-known famine of Mount Lebanon had consequences that reverberated inward as communities experienced severe requisitioning, inflation, and, increasingly, famine. Despite a myriad of policies and strategies aimed at addressing this and other wartime challenges, various environmental limits and administrative inadequacies proved impossible to overcome.

Conclusion The years of World War I were indeed fraught with suffering in Bilad al-Sham. Much of it resulted from starvation as a result of inadequate or inefficient provisioning—a complex process dependent on sufficient transport, decent harvests, and labor for cultivation, collection, and distribution—all of which were often in short supply in wartime Syria—as well as administrators who could hold in check greed and opportunism. While it appears that a number of Ottoman officials did try to punish speculation or advocate policies directed at curbing corruption, despite their occasional successes, their efforts were often thwarted. In Aleppo and Damascus, the brunt of the intense deprivation brought on by the war did not

162  Elizabeth Williams strike as early as it did in areas such as Beirut, Mount Lebanon, and Palestine; however, by 1916 hoarding and inflation were on the rise, significant supplies had been sent south to quell the revolt, and hot winds reduced harvests. When drought struck in 1917, the results were devastating. Unfortunately, despite attempts to exploit a good harvest in 1918, the inability of local officials to override directives from the central administration seems to have severely undermined the harvest’s potential benefits. Examining the intersections between the various provinces that composed the region and their differentiated experiences throughout the war provides a clearer perspective on the nature of the region’s interconnectedness and how the actions of a host of individuals, from peasants to governors, and from grain speculators to foreign powers, played a part in the breakdown of this intricate web. This was not merely a story of Ottoman incompetence and corruption. While there were certainly reports of corruption and officials’ collaboration with speculators, there were also a number of administrators who advocated policies that sought to respond to civilian needs while prioritizing the army’s demands. However, they often found their efforts frustrated by shortages of labor and transport, inflation, and center-directed imperatives, as well as local resistance, some of it from those who acted out of greed, some from those who did it for survival and subsistence. By closely examining Ottoman administrative practices alongside the reports of foreign officials, this chapter has traced unfolding events, particularly in the interior of northern Bilad al-Sham, that shaped the trajectory of its wartime economy and by extension influenced that of the entire region. Ottoman officials grappled with both nature and human nature in their attempts to manage the crisis that engulfed the region during the war. While the interior of Bilad al-Sham experienced differentially various environmental factors, requisitioning, and provisioning in comparison with areas such as Palestine, Mount Lebanon, and Beirut, over the course of the war even this region, with its vast tracts of arable land, found itself battling famine among the very grain fields on which the entire region depended for sustenance.

Notes    1 I would like to thank the organizers of the symposium “The Syrian Lands during the Great War” at Istanbul Şehir University. In particular, I am grateful to M. Talha Çiçek for providing me with access to a number of the documents examined in this chapter, including Turkish translations of many of the German ones. I would also like to thank Selim Güngörüler for a number of helpful comments during the writing process as well as assistance with the German documents. Finally, I am most grateful to Judith E. Tucker, Mustafa Aksakal, Sam Dolbee, Aimee Genell, and Graham Pitts for their insights and suggestions on earlier drafts.    2 The term Bilad al-Sham as used throughout the chapter roughly corresponds to the provinces of Syria, Beirut, and Aleppo and the mutasarrıflıklar of Mount Lebanon and Jerusalem.    3 See T. Khalidi, “The Arab World”; A. S. Khalidi, Memoirs of an Early Arab Feminist; Tergeman, Daughter of Damascus; ‘Awwad, al-Raghif; and Thompson, “World War I: Famine, Memory, and a Shattered Social Order,” in Colonial Citizens, pp. 19–38.

Economy, environment, and famine  163    4 Ajay, “Mount Lebanon and the Wilayah of Beirut, 1914–1918”; Tanielian, “Feeding the City” and “Politics of wartime relief in Ottoman Beirut (1914–1918)”; and Tamari, Year of the Locust.    5 Haqqi Bey, Lubnan, Mabahith ‘ilmiya wa-ijtimaʿiya, pp. 457–8. According to his statistics, Mount Lebanon imported 21 million kilos of wheat and 40 million kilos of barley and other grains. Locally, 2.5 million kilos of wheat and 1.5 million of barley were cultivated.    6 Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria.”    7 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria. See also Kayalı, “Wartime Regional and Imperial Integration of Greater Syria during World War I.” While Kayalı’s chapter incorporates some material from the Ottoman archives, the majority of his evidence is memoir-based.    8 Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 234.    9 See, for example, Tamari, Year of the Locust.   10 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 584/114, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 19 Mayıs 1334 (19 May 1918).   11 Khalidi, “The Arab World,” p. 293.   12 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 233, 234, 250.   13 BOA, DH.EUM.KLU. 4/11, War Minister to the Interior Ministry, 13 Teşrin-i Evvel 1330 (26 October 1914).   14 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 234, 235.   15 Ibid., p. 234.   16 “The issue of flour,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 22 November 1914. The newspaper was founded by Sheikh Ahmad Tabbarah, a committed Ottomanist and proponent of decentralization reform, who belonged to the Beirut Reform Committee. He was among those condemned to death by the Ottoman authorities in 1916. See Arsan, “Under the Influence?,” p. 383.   17 Pamuk, “The Ottoman Economy in World War I,” p. 123. Pamuk identifies this as the first stage in Ottoman provisioning strategies.   18 “The prices of necessities,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 20 December 1914.   19 “Flour,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 17 December 1914.   20 “Wheat in Haleb,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 6 April 1915.   21 “The issue of flour,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 12 April 1915.   22 “Wheat in Haleb,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 6 April 1915, and “The issue of flour,” 12 April 1915.   23 “The issue of flour,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 12 April 1915, and “Wheat in Beirut,” 21 April 1915. The 12 April 1915 edition of the newspaper announced that two wagons had arrived the day before, while the 21 April 1915 edition noted that ten had come the previous evening.   24 “The issue of wheat,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 20 April 1915. The same article noted that, meanwhile, 16 wagons (January), 25 wagons (February), 21 wagons (March), and 15 wagons (until April 15) had been ordered from stations. This appears to mean they were instructed to deliver grain but for some reason had not made the journey.   25 “Flour,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 9 April 1915.   26 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd.11, Mutius to Bethmann Hollweg, 1 May 1915.   27 Kuneralp, Son Dönem Osmanlı Erkân ve Ricali (1839–1922), p. 28. Bekir Sami Bey would not last long in Aleppo either. He was replaced in October 1915 and not reassigned (ibid., pp. 32, 68). See chapter 1 in this volume for more background on these administrative changes.

164  Elizabeth Williams   28 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd.11, Mutius to Bethmann Hollweg, 1 May 1915.   29 For the 1915 plague, see Tamari, Year of the Locust, pp. 93–4, 102–3, 110, 125–6; Khalidi, “The Arab World,” pp. 296, 297. Khalidi suggests the impact of the locusts was augmented by the fact that the infestation came several months after wheat exports from the province of Damascus to Palestine or Lebanon were forbidden (ibid., p. 297).   30 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 469/45, Djemal to the Interior Ministry, 19 Nisan 1331 (2 May 1915).   31 Ibid. Djemal noted that 27 million kilograms each of wheat and barley and 1 million of bulgur were necessary to provision the Fourth Army for the year. Despite the goods acquired from the previous year’s tithe, 20 million kilograms of wheat and 12 million of barley were needed to make up these needs. He closed by assuring the Interior Minister, Talat, that the means by which this difference would be acquired was under investigation.   32 “The issue of wheat,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 19 April 1915. The front page contained a breakdown of all the costs incurred by grain traders in the shipment of their supplies.   33 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 469/45, Djemal to the Interior Ministry, 19 Nisan 1331 (2 May 1915). The distinction between in-kind bidding based on estimation and the emaneten idare referred to by Djemal appears to reflect the difference between tithe collection by tax farmers versus government agents or officials. Estimation involved making an assessment of a given year’s harvest, from which the requisite percentage required for the tithe would be taken. This would then be collected by tax farmers. Emaneten idare, a policy with which Ottoman officials had experimented since the midnineteenth century, aimed to strengthen central government control over revenue collection. See Akarlı, “Economic Policy and Budgets in Ottoman Turkey, 1876–1909,” pp. 446–7, and “The Problems of External Pressures,” p. 165. Both systems were subject to abuse, although this seems to have been even more the case with emaneten idare because, while provincial officials could manage tax farmers to some extent, they had less control over emaneten idare agents, who were themselves government officials (Akarlı, “The Problems of External Pressures,” pp. 159–60, 258 n. 24). Furthermore, tax farming continued to be the preferred method of tax collection for areas of provinces, such as Aleppo, that had large pastoral populations (ibid., p. 162). It is unclear from the document in what way, if any, the army was expected to play a role in this collection process.   34 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 469/45, Djelal to the Interior Ministry, 19 Nisan 1331 (2 May 1915).   35 “The issue of wheat,” al-Ittihad al-Uthmani, 19 April 1915.   36 Pamuk, “The Ottoman Economy,” p. 128; Khalidi, “The Arab World,” p. 300.   37 Schilcher notes that, by 1917 in Damascus, two-thirds of commercial exchanges involved some form of barter. In Damascus, for example, apricot leather became an important commodity of exchange for wheat (“The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 241). Çiçek highlights Djemal Pasha’s order in the spring of 1917, which declared that people could fulfill the tax in lieu of military service by delivering provisions such as wheat, barley, and other grains and dried vegetables instead of paying money (War and State Formation in Syria, p. 241). In Aleppo, Khalidi describes how “a hotel owner . . . in early 1918 was happy to accept two cans of ghee as payment for a stay of ten days by a group of five people” (“The Arab World,” p. 300).   38 HHstA, Politiches Archiv (henceforth: PA) 38/366, Ranzi to Burian, 15 December 1915. In September 1915, the governor of Suriye, Hulusi Bey, had noted that, for general provisioning [levazimat-i umumiye], all wheat and barley and some 1 million kilograms of dried vegetables taken in kind would be assured from the tithe and that, from the remaining 160,000 kilograms of dried vegetables, purchases would be made

Economy, environment, and famine  165 as required (BOA, DH.İ.UM.EK 10/94, Hulusi to the Interior Ministry, 31 Ağustos 1331 (13 September 1915).   39 HHStA, PA 38/366, Ranzi to Burian, 15 December 1915.   40 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 246–7.   41 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Dr. Ruppin to Abram I. Elkus, American ambassador, 13 October 1916.   42 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 501/106, Fuad writing in the name of the Fourth Army commander to the Interior Ministry, 4 Kanun-ı Evvel 1331 (17 December 1915).   43 Kayalı, “Wartime Regional and Imperial Integration of Greater Syria during World War I,” p. 301; Khalidi, “The Arab World,” p. 298; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 246–7. Çiçek provides a more extensive discussion of the toll exacted and the preparations taken to fight the disease throughout the region (see ibid., pp. 245–9).   44 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 247–8.   45 For the 1916 plague, see BOA, DH.İ.UM. 4–1/43, DH.İ.UM 56/24, and BEO 4433/332410.   46 BOA, BEO 4433/332410, list accompanying the “Memorandum on necessary reasons” from the Ministry of Agriculture, Commerce, and Public Works, 14 Eylül 1332 (27 September 1916). The individual amounts of dönüms plowed per province were Beirut (1,440), Syria (300), and Aleppo (322,423). The amount of land plowed in Aleppo was second in expanse only to that of the province of Baghdad. The kilograms of eggs collected per province were Beirut (297,992), Syria (29,797), Zor (63,493), and Aleppo (607,935). On the whole throughout the empire 921,338 dönüms were plowed and 7,277,423 kilograms of locust eggs collected.   47 For the affected areas see BOA, DH.İ.UM 56/24, list accompanying Commerce and Agriculture Minister to the Interior Ministry, 7 Şubat 1331 (20 February 1916).   48 BOA, DH.İ.UM 56/24, Commerce and Agriculture Minister to the Interior Ministry, 7 Şubat 1331 (20 February 1916).   49 BOA, DH.İ.UM 4-1/43, Mutassarıf Sa’ad to the Financial Ministry, 21 Nisan 1332 (4 May 1916). The funds were also intended to provide ekmek parası (literally “bread money”) for the orphanage.   50 BOA, BEO 4433/332410, “Memorandum on necessary reasons” from the Ministry of Agriculture, Commerce, and Public Works, 14 Eylul 1332 (27 September 1916).   51 Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” pp. 238–9; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 236; HHStA, PA, Ranzi to Burian, 38/369, 25 September 1916.   52 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 25 September 1916.   53 Ibid. See also Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 236. Khalidi, “The Arab World,” p. 297, also describes the “hot winds” in June 1916 that destroyed the harvest.   54 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 514/80, Mustafa to the Interior Ministry, 13 Mart 1332 (25 March 1916).   55 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Deutsche-Palästina Bank, Beirut, to von Rosenberg, 29 April 1916.   56 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 248.   57 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, The Near East (8 August 1916), 1 September 1916.   58 Ibid.   59 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 25 September 1916.   60 Pamuk, “The Ottoman Economy,” p. 123.   61 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 25 September 1916; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 240.

166  Elizabeth Williams   62 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 25 September 1916.   63 Ajay, “Mount Lebanon and the Wilayah of Beirut,” pp. 374–5. The reference is from a 14 October 1916 issue of al-Sharq.   64 BOA, DH.İ.UM.EK 36/60. Defterdar Hakkı for the Financial Ministry, 4 Temmuz 1333 (4 July 1917).   65 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 20 October 1916. This decision appears to reflect an empire-wide policy. See Yalman, Turkey in the World War, p. 130.   66 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 20 October 1916.   67 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Dr. Ruppin to Abram I. Elkus, American ambassador, 13 October 1916. Ruppin notes that, before the war, 80 kilograms of flour could be purchased for 1 lira whereas now only 20 could be purchased for the same amount.   68 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 20 October 1916.   69 HHStA PA 38/370, Dandini to Czernin, 16 February 1917.   70 HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 20 October 1916. According to Schilcher (“The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 239), laws that went into effect during the summer and fall of 1916 gave the army authority over provisioning purchases and allocation.   71 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Mutius to Bethmann Hollweg, 27 October 1916.   72 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, “The Near East” (5 June 1916), 21 July 1916.   73 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Mutius to Bethmann Hollweg, 27 October 1916.   74 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Dr. Ruppin to Abram I. Elkus, American ambassador, 13 October 1916; HHStA, PA 38/369, Ranzi to Burian, 20 October 1916.   75 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Dr. Ruppin to Abram I. Elkus, American ambassador, 13 October 1916.   76 AA-PA, Türkei 177, Bd. 13, Mutius to Bethmann Hollweg, 27 October 1916.   77 Yalman, Turkey in the World War, pp. 129–30; Pamuk, “The Ottoman Economy,” p. 122.   78 Yalman, Turkey in the World War, p. 129.   79 Ibid.   80 HHStA, PA 38/370, Dandini to Czernin, 16 February 1917.   81 Ibid.; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 235; Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 240.   82 Pamuk, “The Ottoman Economy,” p. 125.   83 Ibid. It is not entirely clear how its impact in Bilad al-Sham compared with other regions.   84 Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” pp. 242–3; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 240.   85 Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 243.   86 Ibid.; Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 240.   87 Pamuk, “The Ottoman Economy,” p. 129. This was considerably more than in places such as Smyrna and Bursa, where it was 450 piasters, but quite a bit less than Mosul where it was 766 piasters (ibid.).   88 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 581/4, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 2 Nisan 1334 (2 April 1918). See also chapter 1 in this volume.   89 BOA, DH.İ.UM.EK. 36/60, Defterdar Hakkı for the Financial Ministry, 4 Temmuz 1333 (4 July 1917). He notes that the kaza of 299,171 dönüms of land needed 4,450,000 kilograms of different seeds.   90 BOA, DH.İ.UM.EK. 36/60, Suriye defterdarı for the Financial Ministry.   91 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 570/103, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 6/7 Teşrin-i Sani 1333 (6/7 November 1917).

Economy, environment, and famine  167   92 BOA, DH.İ.UM.EK. 36/60, Defterdar Hakkı for the Financial Ministry, 4 Temmuz 1333 (4 July 1917).   93 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 565/21, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 10 Eylül 1333 (10 September 1917).   94 Ibid. For a discussion of the shift from the Fourth Army to the Yıldırım group, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 258–63.   95 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 565/21, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 10 Eylül 1333 (10 September 1917); DH.ŞFR. 565/17, Bedri to the Commerce and Agriculture Ministry, 11 Eylül 1333 (11 September 1917).   96 Yalman notes that a special fund of 250,000 liras was allocated for relief operations in Syria in 1918, but it is unclear how this money was actually spent and to what extent it provided relief (Turkey in the World War, p. 128).   97 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 581/4, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 2 Nisan 1334 (2 April 1918). Estimates varied as to just how much the drought had impacted revenues, from 50 percent to 65 percent, and even to 91 percent in some places.   98 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 263, 259.   99 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 581/4, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 2 Nisan 1334 (2 April 1918). 100 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 584/114, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 19 Mayıs 1334 (19 May 1918). Indeed Dar‘ā in the Hauran was taken four months later, on 25 September 1918 (Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 247). 101 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, p. 244. 102 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 581/4, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 2 Nisan 1334 (2 April 1918). 103 Ibid. See chapter 1 in this volume for an explanation of Djemal Pasha’s role. 104 It is not exactly clear why the Financial Ministry was so insistent on this method despite local warnings of the havoc it would wreak. 105 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 581/4, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 2 Nisan 1334 (2 April 1918). The governor, Bedri Bey, noted that 9,300 people were necessary to implement the emaneten idare but that it would not be possible to procure even a fourth of this amount. 106 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 584/114, Bedri to the Interior Ministry, 19 Mayıs 1334 (19 May 1918). 107 Ibid. 108 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 585/38, Governor of Aleppo to the Interior Ministry, 23 Mayıs 1334 (23 May 1918). 109 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 589/82, Atıf to the Interior Ministry, 16 Temmuz 1334 (16 July 1918). Further documentation is needed to ascertain the official response. Interestingly, a new Food Ministry, which was allegedly riddled with corruption, was established around the same time, on 21 July 1921 (Yalman, Turkey in the First World War, p. 133). 110 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 596/11, Atıf to the Interior Ministry, 21 Eylül 1334 (21 September 1918). I do not know whether his request was successful. 111 BOA, DH.ŞFR. 597/49, Abdulhalik to the Interior Ministry, 4 Teşrin-i evvel 1334 (4 October 1918). 112 Schilcher, “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” p. 250.

References Ajay, N. Z., “Mount Lebanon and the Wilayah of Beirut, 1914–1918: The War Years,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Georgetown University, 1973. Akarlı, E. D., “Economic Policy and Budgets in Ottoman Turkey, 1876–1909,” Middle Eastern Studies 28/3 (1992): 443–76.

168  Elizabeth Williams —— “The Problems of External Pressures, Power Struggles, and Budgetary Deficits in Ottoman Politics under Abdulhamid II (1876–1909): Origins and Solutions,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Princeton University, 1976. Arsan, A., “Under the Influence? Translations and Transgressions in Late Ottoman Imperial Thought,” Modern Intellectual History 10/2 (2013): 375–97. ‘Awwad, T. Y., al-Raghif. Beirut: Maktabat Lubnan, 1986. Çiçek, M. T., War and State Formation in Syria: Cemal Pasha’s governate during World War I, 1914–1917. London: Routledge, 2014. Haqqi Bey, I., Lubnan, Mabahith ‘ilmiyaʿ wa-ijtimaʿiya. Beirut, [1918] 1970. Kayalı, H., “Wartime Regional and Imperial Integration of Greater Syria during World War I,” in Thomas Philipp and Brigit Schaebler (eds), The Syrian Land: Processes of Integration and Fragmentation Bilad al-Sham from the 18th to the 20th Century. Stuttgart: Steiner, 1998, pp. 295–306. Khalidi, A. S., Memoirs of an Early Arab Feminist: The Life and Activism of Anbara Salam Khalidi. London: Pluto Press, 2013. Khalidi, T., “The Arab World,” in John Bourne, Peter Liddle and Ian Whitehead (eds), The Great World War, 1914–45, Vol. 2: Who Won? Who Lost?. London: HarperCollins, 2001, pp. 291–308. Kuneralp, S., Son Dönem Osmanlı Erkân ve Ricali (1839–1922). Istanbul: İsis, 1999. Pamuk, Ş., “The Ottoman Economy in World War I,” in Stephen Broadberry and Mark Marrison (eds), The Economies of World War I. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005, pp. 112–36. Schilcher, L. S., “The Famine of 1915–1918 in Greater Syria,” in John P. Spagnolo (ed.), Problems of the Modern Middle East in Historical Perspective. Reading: Ithaca Press, 1992, pp. 229–58. Tamari, S., Year of the Locust: A Soldier’s Diary and the Erasure of Palestine’s Ottoman Past. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011. Tanielian, M. S., “Feeding the City: The Beirut Municipality and the Politics of Food during World War I,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 46/4 (2014): 737–58. —— “Politics of wartime relief in Ottoman Beirut (1914–1918),” First World War Studies 5/1 (2014): 69–82. Tergeman, S., Daughter of Damascus. Austin, TX: Center for Middle Eastern Studies, 1994. Thompson, E. F., Colonial Citizens: Republican Rights, Paternal Privilege, and Gender in French Syria and Lebanon. New York: Columbia University Press, 2000. Yalman, A. E., Turkey in the World War. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1930.

8 Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations in the fall of 1915 Hilmar Kaiser

In 1915, the Ottoman government deported hundreds of thousands of Armenians from their ancestral homelands to areas predominantly in Northern Mesopotamia and Syria. The majority of the deportees, however, did not survive death marches or massacres; those sent by rail from western provinces to Aleppo were luckier. The Ottoman government claimed that it would settle the deportees in so-called destination areas in new villages or alongside the resident Muslim population. In Northern Syria, leading Ottoman officials and military personnel, notably the Fourth Army commander, Ahmed Djemal Pasha, offered resistance to central government schemes and followed a somewhat independent policy. The Interior Ministry responded to this challenge and tried to reassert its authority. In order to maintain control, Talat Bey, the Minister of the Interior, dispatched a number of officials to the region. Among these were Ismail Djanbolad Bey, director of the Interior Ministry’s “Directorate for Public Security” [Emniyet-i Umumiye Müdüriyeti; EUM], and Shukru Bey, who headed the “Directorate for the Settlement of Tribes and Immigrants” [İskan-ı Aşair ve Muhacirin Müdüriyeti; IAMM]. Both departments were instrumental in persecuting Armenians and in the organization of deportations.1 Despite there being an intense debate about the extermination of Armenians in the Ottoman Empire, historians have paid comparably little attention to the execution of the deportation on an administrative level. While reports by Armenian survivors or observers have formed an integral part of standard accounts, reports from the Ottoman Ministry of the Interior received limited attention. Authors concentrated on the seemingly all important question of whether Ottoman documents proved that mass murder was intended, thereby validating the charge of genocide against the Ottoman government and the ruling “Committee of Union and Progress” (CUP). The discussions of top officials, who are thought to have played a key role in or to have ordered the killings, have remained limited to a small number of individuals, mostly military leaders, government ministers, governors, or party leaders. This is surprising, as authors credited the central government apparatus with close control over the entire process.2 Shukru Bey was born in 1883 on the island of Kos. He studied at Istanbul’s prestigious Galatasaray School before continuing his studies at the Sorbonne in Paris in 1909. By 1912 he had completed his law degree and returned to

170  Hilmar Kaiser the Ottoman Empire, where he entered the service of the Foreign Ministry. In 1913, following the occupation of the city by Bulgarian forces during the Balkan Wars, he became a judge at Adrianople. Apparently, he successfully completed this political assignment, as the Ministry of the Interior appointed him a thirdclass civil inspector. In 1914 he became Talat Bey’s assistant and later served as representative in the Commission of Inquiry investigating atrocities against Ottoman Greeks along the Aegean littoral. He was also involved with a commission assigned to the projected exchange of population between Bulgaria and the Ottoman Empire. Following his work as a civil inspector, he was appointed by the Ottoman government as director of the IAMM on 1 December 1914. In this capacity, Shukru Bey played a key role during the extermination of Armenians in 1915 and 1916. He also implemented government policies targeting the Kurdish population. Later, in recognition of his services, the Ministry of the Interior promoted him to first-class civil inspector. After the war British authorities detained him on Malta in order to assure his trial as a principal perpetrator, but he was released following a political arrangement and returned to the Ottoman Empire. Soon, he became a prominent politician in the new Republic of Turkey, serving as Minister of Agriculture, Foreign Minister, and Minister of the Interior, as well as General Secretary of the Republican People’s Party, a key position in the oneparty system. Most important, however, was his close friendship with Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. Following the latter’s death in 1938, Shukru Bey’s career came to a quick end. He died in 1959.3 After the Ottoman defeat in 1918, Armenian survivors as well as the Armenian patriarchate and British occupation authorities at Istanbul pressed for the prosecution of those implicated in the atrocities, including Shukru Bey. Aram Andonian, an Armenian journalist and survivor of the deportations, had spent a considerable time at Aleppo, where he had collected substantial information about deportations and massacres. Later, he published an account of his own experiences, together with a collection of documents purported to be in part original Ottoman government telegrams. In his book, Andonian stated that Shukru Bey had enacted a program of deportations and massacre at Aleppo. Moreover, he had been instrumental in having the Aleppo governor, Bekir Sami Bey, removed for being too lenient towards Armenians. Other opponents had been the Armenian Mazlumian brothers, owners of Aleppo’s prestigious hotel Baron. The two men had gained some influence not only with local officials but also with the Fourth Army commander, Ahmed Djemal Pasha, who used their hotel as his headquarters during visits to the city.4 In view of the available information, the British authorities detained Shukru Bey at Malta and accused him of being a major offender responsible for atrocities against Armenians. They had captured a decoded telegram addressed by the Minister of the Interior, Talat Bey, to the district governor of Aintab, seemingly implicating him.5 Shukru Bey’s mission to Aleppo was revisited in 1986, when Vahakn Dadrian sought to validate the material published by Aram Andonian following objections published by two Turkish diplomats. Raymond Kévorkian was the first contextualize Shukru Bey’s activities within a larger context, albeit still on the

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  171 basis of a limited source basis.6 Fuat Dündar discussed Shukru Bey’s mission in the light of organizational problems associated with the deportations along the Anatolian and Baghdad railway lines and in Northern Syria. According to him, the central authorities designated Aleppo as a coordination center for deportations in August 1915. Thus, Shukru became the head of this coordination center and issued detailed instructions for the so-called settlement areas on 7 October 1915. Problems arose with Djemal Pasha. Allegedly, the army commander wished to use Armenian deportees as a demographic and economic counterweight against the Arab population of the region. For his part, Shukru Bey insisted on a uniform implementation of government directives, which stipulated that Armenians were not to exceed 10 percent of the population in any given area. Seemingly, the differences were caused by this divergence in priorities and not by a fundamental disagreement over the Armenian deportations as such. According to Dündar, the conflict was defused following a meeting in November 1915 between Djemal Pasha, Shukru Bey, and local authorities.7 Talha Çiçek assumed that the differences between Djemal Pasha, on the one hand, and Shukru Bey and the central authorities, on the other, were not caused simply by different priorities but were an expression of “mutual distrust.” The central authorities were interested in a quick completion of the Armenian deportations at almost any cost. Djemal Pasha, however, protected a large number of Armenians in his area of control. At times he asserted his authority over civil officials, citing military necessity. Importantly, Çiçek emphasized that the Aleppo meeting brought about at least a temporary change in the deportation policies.8 In spring 1915, following armed clashes with army deserters and bandits, the Ottoman Fourth Army deported Armenians from the Zeitun area in Marash district. These limited deportations posed seemingly insurmountable challenges to both local and central authorities. It quickly became clear that the Ottoman government lacked funds to provide for the deportees’ food and shelter.9 This deportation was coupled with an improvised plan by the Fourth Army to replace the Armenian inhabitants with Muslims, preferably Turkish-speaking settlers. Like the deportations, this settlement project exceeded available resources. Thus, the Marash district authorities demanded the dispatch of a competent official from Istanbul to support their work.10 Since the Fourth Army’s settlement scheme had not been coordinated with the Ministry of the Interior, it led to tensions concerning financing and political control. These disagreements increased when, on 24 April 1915, the Ottoman government began uprooting the Armenian population of entire regions. This new policy soon evolved into an empire-wide deportation of almost the whole Armenian population. It designated large parts of the Fourth Army’s zone of control as destination areas for the deportees. For the coordination of Armenian deportations and the settlement of Muslims, the IAMM dispatched Ahmed Eyub Bey to Aleppo in early May 1915. In December 1914, the latter had been entrusted with an important assignment on the Caucasian front, showing that he was a trusted government agent believed to be capable of executing secret missions. He was also in charge of the settlement effort operations in and around Zeitun in case of need. Thus, his assignment extended beyond Aleppo’s

172  Hilmar Kaiser provincial boundaries. For his part, Djemal Pasha outlined his views on the policies Eyub Bey had to follow and shared these with the Interior Ministry in an attempt to preempt independent steps by the official. In general, he doubted that Eyub Bey was the right man for the task and that the available resources would suffice.11 The Ministry of the Interior appeared to agree with Djemal Pasha’s doubts and dispatched other officials to Aleppo, thus reducing Eyub Bey’s control over deportation matters. First-Class Civil Inspector Kapancizade Hamid Bey, who had been governor of Diarbekir province between October 1914 and February 1915, had entertained good relations with the local Armenian communities but had to leave his post after a conflict with Ottoman Third Army officials.12 When, on 19 April 1915, the CUP’s Aleppo branch denounced the provincial governor, Djelal Bey, as a political opponent of the ruling party, Talat Bey ordered Hamid Bey to investigate the matter.13 The Ministry of the Interior also assigned him to the supervision of the Armenian deportations in Aleppo province and Marash district. At the same time, the central authorities sent Civil Inspector Ali Seidi Bey and an official from the Ministry of Finance to Adana province. The appointment of two top central government officials to supervise local personnel showed that the local administration had already run into difficulties.14 Following complaints from provincial authorities, the Interior Ministry issued regulations in late May and early June 1915 on the confiscation and liquidation of Armenian properties.15 So-called abandoned properties commissions were to take control over the movable and immovable assets of Armenian deportees. At Aleppo, Hamid Bey became president of the local commission, which was formed in late June 1915.16 As comparably few Armenians had been deported within his region, Hamid Bey’s duties concerning Armenian property appeared to have remained limited, and he became actively involved in deportation matters. The constant influx of deportees created a humanitarian emergency. Sahag II, the Catholicos of the Great House of Cilicia, who was at Aleppo at the time, understood that the crisis would last for a long time, and so he initiated a relief effort by the Armenian Orthodox community. This initiative was officially recognized by the provincial authorities from the beginning. Governor Djelal Bey had entertained friendly relations with Armenian intellectuals in Istanbul. Now he authorized Armenian fund-raising for the deportees and did not obstruct precise record-keeping on the number of arrivals. Many of the deportees remained in Aleppo only temporarily, as the central government had ordered their dispatch to outlying areas. Thus, the Armenian community organization tried to mitigate the consequences of onward deportation by cooperating with Hamid Bey, providing him with lists of deportees and information on their qualifications in order to secure their dispatch to places where they could find employment. Aside from his local initiative, Sahag II appealed to the Ministry of the Interior to show mercy. He warned that women, children, and the elderly would be dying in the deserts and on the mountains. The cleric also discussed the deportees’ needs with Djemal Pasha, who inquired of the Armenian community about rapes and other crimes and abuses. Evidently, the commander thought it advisable not to rely entirely

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  173 on official reports. As a result Djemal Pasha gave strict orders for the protection and provisioning of deportees. Meanwhile, the Armenian community intensified its fund-raising activities, with Hamid Bey officially presiding over the effort. The top government official in charge of deportations even donated privately 10 liras for relief work. The community and the government also cooperated in finding shelter for the arrivals and in the maintenance of public health. Soon, their efforts extended to remote locations in Der Zor district. During a visit to Aleppo by the Der Zor governor, Ali Suad Bey, Armenian representatives met with him in order to secure information. The community also tried influencing the provincial authorities’ settlement activities by collecting detailed information on potential locations. In sum, both the provincial authorities and the Armenian community cooperated closely in almost all aspects of relief and settlement. The community provided much needed funds and expertise, thereby supplementing the authorities’ limited resources. Officials such as Djelal Bey and Hamid Bey appreciated the cooperation and became personally involved. Djelal Bey and his family maintained a close personal friendship with the US consul at Aleppo, Jesse Jackson, and his wife. Their regular weekly dinners were occasions for political discussions. Obviously, the governor did not share the xenophobic and often racist views of the governing CUP.17 The relief effort, however, remained inadequate given the constant influx of ever larger and more destitute waves of deportees. Djelal Bey questioned the central government’s policies and tried mitigating its effects. His opposition was remarkable, as Dr. Nazım, one of the CUP Central Committee’s most radical antiArmenian members, was his son-in-law. This connection, however, did not protect him from being recalled. On 30 June 1915, the Ministry of the Interior replaced Djelal Bey with Bekir Sami Bey, who took up office on 7 July 1915. According to Talat Bey, the former governor’s views on the Armenian deportations did not correspond with those of the government. Bekir Sami Bey, however, continued the policy of his predecessor. With increasing numbers of Armenians arriving at Aleppo, Hamid Bey’s role in the deportation scheme gained more importance. The Ministry of the Interior authorized the president of the “Abandoned Property Commission” to settle Armenians as long as he observed the minimum distance of 25 kilometers to the next railway line. At the same time, the central authorities expected him to continue settling Turkish immigrants as well. Evidently, Hamid Bey had assumed functions that went beyond the original remit of his position. Apparently, the Ministry of the Interior had installed with the civil inspector a senior official at Aleppo who would supervise Eyub Bey. Thus, it was Hamid Bey to whom the central authorities turned when it needed an assessment concerning the planned deportation of all Armenian Catholics. Hamid had also reported on the Aleppo governor. The central authorities were probably hoping to minimize local opposition by keeping a close eye on Bekir Sami Bey. On the other hand, the additional manpower was also urgently needed at Aleppo. By 13 August 1915, the Ministry of the Interior had designated the city and province as a distribution center for Armenian deportees, so the province was to coordinate the deportations with other provinces. Like the governor, Hamid Bey answered inquiries from the

174  Hilmar Kaiser central authorities concerning the number of deportees arriving at and passing through Aleppo. On 28 August 1915, he reported on a massacre of deportees from Gurun and called for exemplary punishment of the offenders. His tenure in Aleppo ended in September 1915. On his way back to Istanbul he met with the IAMM director, Shukru Bey, at Islahie and briefed him on the deportations. Shukru Bey was to fill the vacuum created by Hamid Bey’s departure.18 In the meantime, the Ministry of the Interior had sent another high-ranking official to Aleppo. Ali Munif Bey had been Talat Bey’s undersecretary at the ministry and had played a major role in the deportations. In this capacity, he had frequently signed deportation orders on behalf of his superior. On 7 August 1915, the government appointed him as governor of Mount Lebanon. Djemal Pasha strongly supported the assignment and urged his swift departure. The commander also wanted Ali Munif Bey to investigate a scandal which implicated Bekir Sami Bey at Aleppo. A second investigation, presumably into Arab nationalist activities, was awaiting the official at Beirut. For the time being, however, Talat Bey informed his former deputy only about an assignment at Adana where problems concerning the deportations demanded attention.19 Consequently, at his hometown, Adana, Ali Munif Bey met with the governor, Hakki Bey, and pushed for the acceleration of deportations from the province in line with the demands of the Interior Ministry. This was not the first reprimand for the governor. Following earlier criticism, he had pursued a more aggressive deportation policy. Apparently, these changes had not satisfied the ministry. Now Ali Munif Bey insisted on an immediate and full-scale deportation of the remaining Armenians. He informed his superiors that all Armenians should be deported, without exception, within two days and asked them to authorize the departures first on 31 August 1915 and again on 2 September 1915.20 At Aleppo, trouble was brewing. On 5 August 1915, Djemal Pasha had complained to Talat Bey about Bekir Sami Bey’s personal conduct. The commander contemplated a public investigation and a court martial in order to protect the CUP’s reputation. As this was impossible, he had demanded the immediate removal of the governor. The situation deteriorated further on 30 August 1915, when Eyub Bey reported an incident. Allegedly being in a drunken state, the governor had injured and attempted to rape an Armenian servant. The next morning the woman escaped from the residence with the help of Bekir Sami Bey’s deputy. The affair was likely to have an impact on the government’s prestige as the residence was situated in a quarter where many foreign consulates were located. Eyub Bey declared that he would refuse to work with “such a governor.” Critically, the assault had become widely known. Talat Bey lost no time in immediately ordering Ali Munif to conduct an investigation into the allegations.21 On his arrival at Aleppo, Ali Munif Bey cooperated with the governor and obtained data on the ongoing deportations. Aside from simply passing on the information, he added that both the railway administration and the military supply organization employed a large number of Armenians. Ali Munif Bey considered these people to be rebellious and a threat to security and thus urged their deportation. At the same time he secretly met with Eyub Bey and Hamid Bey to interrogate

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  175 the governor’s former housemaid in the latter’s house. The testimony did not convince Ali Munif Bey, who argued that the case was based solely on her testimony. She claimed that the governor had raped her twice. Later she had left the residence without telling anyone. Ali Munif Bey did not interrogate Bekir Sami Bey, nor did he question Eyub Bey on the inconsistencies between the woman’s version of events and his report to the Ministry of the Interior. Given the circumstances and the way the woman narrated the assault, Ali Munif Bey doubted her statement. But in view of the public scandal, he suggested Bekir Sami Bey be assigned to another post. In sum, he shared in principle Djemal Pasha’s assessment, and the case was buried. It had become only a question of time before the Aleppo governor would be recalled.22 The accusations against Bekir Sami Bey formed part of a series of cases that had been put forward against officials and civilians. From the very first deportations, Djemal Pasha had threatened offenders in his area of control with swift punishment, and he had made good on his promise.23 The Zor district governor, Ali Suad Bey, implicated the Diarbekir governor, Reshid Bey, and his staff in massacres and demanded nothing less than capital punishment for him and his men.24 By the end of August 1915, news of atrocities committed against Armenian deportees had become widely known. The Entente had already announced in May of that year its intention to prosecute those implicated in such crimes. The neutral US government and Germany, an ally of the Ottoman Empire, had intensified their diplomatic representations.25 The mounting pressure impressed on Talat Bey that efforts to deny or downplay atrocities had been unsuccessful. Thus, on 29 August 1915, he advised Angora province that the “Armenian Question” had been solved as far as the eastern provinces were concerned. The Ministry of the Interior also advised the acting Angora governor, Atif Bey, that it had learned about atrocities committed by gendarmes and civilians in his province and demanded that Armenian deportees were to be protected. Excesses had to stop, and officials responsible for offenses would be tried by courts martial. In a second telegram to a number of provinces and districts, the central authorities reiterated their demands for orderly deportation and warned again that offenders would be severely punished by courts martial.26 The announcement was timely, as the acting German ambassador, Ernst Zu Hohenlohe, renewed his representations with Talat Bey on behalf of Armenians on 30 August 1915. Ottoman assurances lost their effect when, on the following morning, the Armenian Catholic patriarch visited the German Embassy. He provided Hohenlohe with a French translation of a deportation order for Adana province and urged the diplomat to intervene on behalf of the Catholic Armenians of Adana and Angora provinces. The information must have made a deep impression on Hohenlohe, as he promptly instructed his staff to inform the Minister of the Interior that he would visit him. In response, Talat Bey took the unusual step of traveling across town to the German Embassy. Trying to reassure Hohenlohe, he claimed that he had already annulled the deportation order and promised to provide the embassy with copies of his instructions the next day. However, he declared that the “Armenian Question no longer exists,” a statement that echoed the contents of his earlier order sent to Angora province. The

176  Hilmar Kaiser German diplomats thought that this declaration implied that the anti-Armenian measures––in other words, the deportations––had stopped. Two days later, on 2 September 1915, Talat Bey met again with Hohenlohe and handed over German translations of three telegrams. Once more, he tried to assure the ambassador that the Ottoman authorities were working hard to protect and provision Armenian deportees along the railway line towards the south. The minister also announced his intention to go on a tour of inspection once conditions allowed his absence from the Ottoman capital. He intended investigating whether his orders had been conscientiously followed. Hohenlohe, however, was not too impressed. By now he understood Talat Bey’s earlier declaration on the Armenian Question as an ominous expression of the government’s real intentions. His doubts were supported by consular reports indicating that local conditions contradicted Talat Bey’s assurances. Nevertheless, the embassy informed the consular officials––Eugen Büge at Adana, Walter Rössler at Aleppo, and Friedrich Von Der Schulenburg, who had been appointed to Erzerum––about the matter. In response, Büge and Rössler reported no improvements. On the contrary, Büge characterized Talat Bey’s assurances as brazen deceit and stated that Ali Munif Bey had practically annulled the said orders. The embassy, however, did not share Büge’s assessment. It had received only imprecise translations of the originals, which could explain the differences in interpretation of the orders by the local authorities and the German representatives. Nevertheless, on 25 September 1915 Hohenlohe informed the German Foreign Office that no changes in the extent of deportations or the treatment of Armenian deportees had taken place. Although the ambassador attributed this state of affairs mainly to the arbitrary actions of provincial authorities, he had little hope that renewed assurances by Talat Bey would bring about any improvement. This assessment was confirmed when Talat Bey refused to punish Reshid Bey or his associates and actually promoted the heavily implicated acting governor of Mardin, Bedri Bey, to full district governor. In other words, perpetrators had little to fear from the Ottoman government.27 By August 1915, problems with deportations along the railway line from Istanbul to Aleppo showed that the existing arrangements were insufficient. The Interior Ministry understood that modifications in policy were needed. On 13 August 1915, Ali Munif Bey had urged provincial and district authorities to coordinate their deportation efforts in order to avoid concentrations of Armenians at railway stations. Earlier, such concentrations had negatively impacted military transports. Similarly, deportations should not affect the all-important grain transports for the supply of Istanbul and the Ottoman forces at the Dardanelles. Nevertheless, Eskishehir district, as well Konia and Adana provinces, had to accelerate deportations. In response, the Eskishehir district governor, Refet Bey, argued that he lacked the necessary resources for the deportation of many poor, destitute, or sick Armenians. Thus, Shukru Bey instructed the authorities at Ismid to provide sufficient funds for the transport of deportees by rail all the way to Konia and not just across the district boundary to Eskishehir. Konia province, for its part, reported that Adana province would not accept deportees sent there and that the number of people at Konia railway station had increased. In response, Ali Munif Bey’s successor, acting undersecretary Subhi Bey, ordered Adana province

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  177

Figure 8.1 Armenian deportees transported by the Anatolian Railway in sheep carts in October 1915 (Deutsche Bank, Frankfurt/Main, Historisches Institut, Orientbüro 1704).

to comply with its orders. The Ministry of the Interior also struggled to keep track of the number of deportees who were still to be removed, were in transit to their destinations, or had already arrived. Despite all these difficulties, the central government expected the provincial authorities also to expedite the transport of Muslim settlers to their new homes. Given the number of deportees, settlers, soldiers, provisions, and other items that had to be transported at the same time with the limited capacities at hand, problems were foreseeable. Thus, on 28 August 1915, the Ministry of the Interior ordered a count of Armenians at railway stations. Deportations in Ismid district had ended, but Bursa province had begun sending deportees into the district. Eskishehir reported that 3,000 Armenians had arrived from Ismid district and Bursa province, despite requests to stop sending deportees from there. Sufficient funds for railway transport were still lacking and local conditions had reached a critical state. The Afion governor, Shevket Bey, reported that, aside from 300 persons, all Armenians had been deported. However, more than 5,000 deportees were in transit at the district’s two railway stations, 3,000 were waiting at Konia railway station, and 8,500 were at Ereghli. In sum, between Eskishehir in the north and Ereghli in the south, all major railway stations had become transit camps for large and increasing numbers of Armenians. The Interior Ministry’s hopes that coordination between the various districts and provinces along the line might facilitate railway deportations had failed.28

178  Hilmar Kaiser From the start of large-scale deportation in May 1915, the Ministry of the Interior understood that its own policy of simply entrusting local authorities with the execution of the policy was bound to run into serious problems. While the central authorities did not pay much attention to the Armenian core settlement areas in the empire’s eastern provinces, they implemented some improvised measures in the strategically critical region of historical Cilicia. By assigning a few central government officials to key positions, it was hoped that emerging problems would be overcome. However, given the scale of the deportations, these few officials could make no significant difference. Moreover, they were not necessarily interested in a ruthless pursuit of their assignment, as Hamid Bey’s actions showed. The designation of Aleppo as a coordination center for deportations had little if any impact on the situation. Thus, Ali Munif Bey’s mission became another improvised response to the ongoing deterioration along the sole and all-important railway line on which several Ottoman armies depended. Talat Bey understood that the current organization of deportations could not cope with the problems. A thorough review and reorganization of deportations along the railway line and in the so-called destination areas was therefore imperative. This task was assigned to the Interior Ministry’s top official for deportations, Shukru Bey. For the time being, Talat Bey assigned Shukru Bey to a tour of inspection. Following the warnings to provincial and district authorities, the IAMM director left Istanbul at the end of August 1915. Since the start of the deportations, he had been actively involved in the program. He only occasionally signed outgoing telegrams himself, as Talat Bey or Ali Munif signed most of the orders he and the IAMM staff had drafted before there were forwarded to provincial and district authorities. Shukru Bey had also been instrumental in formulating policies concerning Armenians and particularly Armenian property.29 On 1 September 1915, Talat Bey informed the authorities along the railway line that the Ministry of the Interior had appointed Shukru Bey to review and reorganize the deportation process and that they were to follow his orders. The EUM informed the Austro-Hungarian Embassy likewise. Ambassador Johann Count Von Pallavicini doubted that the measures would benefit Armenian deportees. After all, the IAMM had a bad track record of settling Muslim refugees, and the diplomat suspected that the inspection would benefit solely Muslim settlers. In a separate dispatch, Subhi Bey provided the authorities with additional funds for deportations. Evidently, the central government was aware that fresh orders alone would not overcome existing difficulties. Deportees should receive adequate provisions and, if funds proved to be insufficient, additional sums could be obtained. At the same time, Shukru Bey would consult with Refet Bey and address the appalling conditions at Eskishehir.30

Eskishehir On 2 September 1915, Shukru reported from Eskishehir on the situation along the railway line. He had spoken to railway officials and had obtained information on the number of deportees at various stations. Up to 10,000 people were

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  179 concentrated at Mekedje, 800 at Biledjik, 10,000 at Alayund, 500 at Afion, 1,000 at Tchai, 120 at Kadinkhan, 8,000 at Konia, 1,000 at Pozanti, and 10,000 at Ereghli. Shukru had not seen any Armenians between Ismid and Lefke station. As he traveled by night, he could not get a clear idea about the number of deportees along the line after Lefke, but he thought that there were more than 3,000. On his arrival at Eskishehir, he estimated that about 20,000 deportees were camping around the railway station. Minor assaults occurred during his visit and arrests were made. Because he thought it was their failure which had caused the large concentration of Armenians, Shukru Bey accused the local authorities of neglecting their duties. In particular, the district governor was remiss, as he had not personally involved himself in the deportation effort. Only one day before Shukru Bey’s arrival, the governor had inspected the Armenian camp for the first time but failed to implement even most basic security measures. Eskishehir’s police director, Rashid Bey, who had officially been in charge, was also a failure, and there were many rumors about him. Shukru Bey reported him to Ismail Djanbolad Bey. On 11 October 1915, Talat Bey ordered Hulusi Bey to head a Commission of Inquiry to conduct an investigation into complaints and rumors. About ten days later Refet Bey announced the removal from office of the police director and three other police officials. In view of his poor performance, the district governor was given a detailed lecture about his duties from Shukru Bey. Critically, local Armenians resided near factories producing military supplies. Although the authorities suspected them of being armed, safety measures were lacking, and the people posed a security risk. On Shukru Bey’s orders the authorities took precautions and dispersed Armenians who were exempt from deportation, such as Catholics, Protestants, and soldiers’ families, to remote areas within the district. Other Armenian residents were waiting to be deported by road while the weak and women were sent away by train. The IAMM director had put the local IAMM official and president of the Abandoned Property Commission, Abdulahad Nuri Bey, in charge of deportations at Eskishehir, while Civil Inspector Muhtar Bey was responsible for those at the stations between Eskishehir and Konia. Other measures concerned provisioning such as the opening of bakeries, but Shukru Bey needed 2,000 liras to finance flour and other necessities. In other words, the sums which Subhi Bey had just assigned were insufficient. Moreover, the IAMM director planned to institute a system which would allow local officials to pay the railway company for the transport of deportees with vouchers which would be honored by the central authorities at Istanbul. Along the railway line the authorities lacked the funds and officials to manage the finances for large-scale deportations. Shukru Bey had already communicated with Franz J. Günther, the director of the Anatolian and Baghdad railway companies, who had agreed in principle to the proposal.31 Shukru Bey’s reporting paid little attention to the desperate situation of most of the Armenian deportees. Families were separated when the men were walked off without prior notice. On 3 September 1915, Wilfred Post, an American missionary physician working at a hospital of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM) in Konia, reported that about thirty to forty of the

180  Hilmar Kaiser estimated 12,000 to 15,000 Armenian deportees died at Eskishehir every day. He added the people were camping in the fields about the station, evidently in great need and distress. The majority of them appear to be without shelter and what shelter they have consists of the flimsiest kind of tent improvised out of a few sticks covered with rugs or carpets in a few instances but often with only cotton cloth absolutely no protection from the heavy autumn rains which will soon be coming. The station master, whom I have known as a reliable man for several years, told me that the people had been treated with every kind of brutality, the police ostensibly trying to prevent the Turks from molesting them by day but aiding and abetting them by night.32 On 3 September 1916, Abdulahad Nuri Bey reported that 1,143 Armenians had been deported by rail and 1,000 by road from Eskishehir. Two days later, Talat Bey warned the district authorities that they would be held liable for failures in connection with the deportation and provisioning of Armenians. Evidently, Shukru Bey’s complaints had not fallen on deaf ears. In his response, Refet Bey attributed the problems to the previous lack of funds. He confirmed the opening of bakeries and announced that deportations could be completed within ten days as long as ten to fifteen railway carriages were available each day. On 7 September 1915, the district governor reported the deportation of more than 2,800 Armenian deportees from Eskishehir, while seven railway carriages with deportees arriving from Biledjik had also been provisioned and been sent further on. Abdulahad Nuri Bey reported that, on 8 and 9 September 1915, 4,520 Armenians were deported and followed by 1,737 and 1,384, respectively, during the following two days. By 12 September 1915, another 2,814 deportees had left Eskishehir. They were followed by 2,023 within the next twenty-four hours. On 17 September 1915, Refet Bey declared that the deportation of Armenians in transit had ended. Civil Inspector Muhtar added that railway deportations would focus now on Alayund station and Kutahia district. In sum, the Eskishehir authorities had deported at least 18,000 Armenians within ten days in addition to those who had been sent on without a break at the railway station. On 18 September 1915, Refet Bey announced that the deportation of the remaining Armenian residents was underway and the majority of 7,000 had already been sent off.33 On 5 September 1915, Shukru Bey reported on his inspection along the railway line between Eskishehir and Konia. Relatively few Armenians had remained at the stations in Kutahia and Afion districts. He had met with the two district governors. The Afion governor, Shevket Bey, had managed the deportations well, but the IAMM director’s opinion regarding the Kutahia governor, Faik Ali Bey, was much less positive. He accused the official of damaging the entire deportation effort by refusing to execute his orders. Faik Ali Bey had been using various excuses, such as applying orders to the entire district which had been designed for places where deportations had not taken place. Thus no Armenians had been expelled. Moreover, he applied the order to disperse Greeks in Muslim villages

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  181 in order to settle Armenian deportees from other regions within his district. For its part, the Ministry of the Interior suspected that corrupt officials were allowing wealthy Armenians to remain in the district. In reality, Faik Ali Bey was a determined opponent of the deportations and did his best to protect Armenians within his district. For his part, Shukru Bey believed that he had made sure that the governor fully understood what was expected of him. Thus, the deportation of Armenians would start with those who had come from other districts and provinces. Shukru Bey had put Civil Inspector Muhtar Bey in charge of the orderly progress of deportations in Kutahia district. Thus, on 20 September 1915 the official reported the deportation of 969 Armenians from Alayund station. The following day, 5,360 deportees followed by train, while 500 left with their own means of transport. Talat Bey was pleased with Muhtar Bey’s performance. Within days he assigned him to a Commission of Inquiry to investigate abuses committed by civil officials and gendarmerie personnel within Adana, Aleppo, and Syria provinces, as well as the independent districts of Urfa, Zor, and Marash.34

Konia Meanwhile, the concentration of Armenian deportees in Konia province increased, as in most cases railway deportation had been organized only as far as Konia. Thus, on 2 September 1915, the Konia governor, Djelal Bey, reported that, while the deportees were being provisioned, their deportation beyond Ereghli, the last railway station in the province, created considerable problems. The railway company had not provided sufficient wagons, and up to 9,000 deportees––mostly women, children, and the elderly, the invalid, and the helpless––were camping in extraordinary misery in the open air near the station and were in no condition to continue their way on foot. In reply, the Ministry of the Interior cabled that Shukru Bey would organize the deportations in the province. At the same time, at Konia a conflict had evolved between the military station commander and the station’s police inspector. The latter allowed Armenians who could pay for their train tickets to depart despite the military commander’s security concerns. The Ministry of War warned that the police inspector would be detained if he continued to disobey the orders of the station commander. Djelal Bey received the news during a tour of inspection at Karaman station and advised his superiors that the police inspector was acting on his orders. The authorities had bought tickets as far as Ereghli with funds provided from the IAMM budget for those Armenians coming from the direction of Eskishehir who could not afford them. The measure also aimed to reduce the risk of an epidemic. Moreover, the police had been instrumental in preventing corrupt activities by military personnel, who had been responsible for “disgusting” incidents around the railway station. They had even incited hotel owners to complain against the police inspector. The accelerated movement of deportees had been due to the announced arrival of another 1,300 Armenians from Eskishehir. At the same time, thousands of soldiers were in transit at Konia station. In sum, Djelal Bey suggested that the military’s complaints owed more to corruption than concerns about security and warned that arresting

182  Hilmar Kaiser the police official would have a serious impact on the provincial administration. In response, the Ministry of the Interior ordered the Shukru Bey to investigate the abuses. Meanwhile, Djelal Bey suggested halting deportations to Konia province for the time being, as the problems concerning the onward deportations towards Northern Syria remained unsolved. Obviously, Djelal Bey’s views stood in stark contrast to his superiors’ plans to accelerate deportations.35 So far, the authorities at Konia had deported 1,250 of the city’s 3,125 Armenians; 1,080 Protestants or members of military families were exempted from deportation, while another 783 persons were detained within city together with 452 Armenians who had arrived from other places. About 8,000 Armenians were camping around the railway station. Shukru Bey gave a generally positive assessment of the situation, as he had secured the provisioning of the deportees between Konia and Tarsus. The reported cases of corruption appeared to have been exaggerated and were in reality just small irregularities. There had been no serious crimes. Shukru Bey met with Djelal Bey the following day at Karaman and informed him as to the government’s view on the conduct of deportations. In other words, he accused the governor of not following the instructions of the Interior Ministry and denounced him as being responsible for delays and other problems affecting the deportations. After all, there had been no problems before the governor’s arrival at his post on 10 August 1915. Not surprisingly, the Ministry of the Interior applauded Shukru Bey’s measures.36 Djelal Bey had made no secret of his opposition to the deportation scheme. On his way from Aleppo to Istanbul he had stayed at Konia for three days. At the time, he had made his views clear and announced that he would obstruct the deportations. On his return to his post at Konia, conditions had not improved. The local CUP had taken advantage of his four-week absence and had already deported a large part of city’s Armenian population. In response, the governor demonstratively showed his appreciation for the relief work done by local ABCFM medical missionaries and befriended Dr. William Dodd. Djelal Bey had also helped Armenian prisoners. His tour of inspection to Ereghli was in part designed to facilitate American Red Cross relief work among the deportees. Local CUP cadres criticized the governor strongly for supporting the deportees and called for his removal. Local gendarmes were also eager to see him leave. Djelal Bey himself was thinking of resigning from his post. Without doubt the various accusations had come to Shukru Bey’s attention and influenced his reports. More importantly, Djelal Bey had not been disguising his feelings during their meeting at Karaman. Shukru Bey considered the governor to be weak and “sinfully” compassionate and suggested that Djelal Bey had been obstructing the deportation policy because he did not approve of it. The governor had expressed his views in communications to Istanbul and had also told his staff that he would follow his own line of action. He had even allowed Armenian deportees from Ismid to return to their district. Thus, Shukru claimed that Djelal Bey’s opposition was the real cause of the problems at Konia. As at Eskishehir, the IAMM director omitted from his reports the appalling state of the deportee camp. At one point, the authorities forced between 45,000

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  183 and 50,000 Armenians to stay there. Policemen were extorting money from the impoverished and beating up women and children with whips and clubs at the railway station. Dr. Dodd had seen the victims. One boy had been beaten to death. Sanitary conditions were bad, as no preparations had been made, and the death toll was rising. People had no choice but to defecate in plain view of the station in an open field. The ground became covered with a layer of human waste, while the stench made breathing difficult. Reports of attacks on deportees by brigands further down the railway line, which had claimed the lives of many people, further aggravated the desperate situation. Mothers had begun to give away their small children in order to spare them further suffering. At Karaman, train passengers saw how the gendarmerie sergeant Tevfik Bey whipped Armenian deportees and called for him to be punished. Between July and September 1915 an estimated 2,000 deportees starved to death in and around the small town. Shukru Bey added to the desperation when at Konia he made it known that his task was not to settle the Armenians, as had been announced earlier by the Ministry of War, but to accelerate deportations. Germans living or traveling in the area reported on the situation. Mr. Von Holback, a Tobacco Régie official, informed the German Embassy that Armenian deportees were giving way their children or, as he put it, selling them. The authorities, however, took away those children who had found shelter with Christian families and gave them to Muslim households. Rudolf Zabel, a journalist on the Tägliche Rundschau, reported that between Konia and Adana the appalling conditions had led to high mortality among the deportees. The area between Karaman and Pozanti was anyway suffering food scarcity, so deportees found it hard to get hold of supplies even at inflated prices. South of Ulukishla, attacks on deportees were common and men especially disappeared. Rapes were frequent. Zabel compared conditions with total anarchy.37

Ereghli Ereghli was the last station within Konia province. About 15,000 deportees had been camping near the railway station or had found shelter in the small town at the time Shukru Bey arrived. He was impressed by the local sub-district governor, Faiz Bey, whom Armenian deportees described as a devoted CUP member. As at Konia, however, local officials and policemen extorted money from the deportees in exchange for a promise not to send them on to Pozanti, where assaults were known to be taking place. Shukru Bey demanded the recall of the men from Ereghli and a thorough investigation into the abuses. He estimated the number of deportees at around 9,000, but, as a result of his arrangements, 2,000 new arrivals were expected every week, though he believed that he had secured a sufficient number of carriages, ox carts, camels, and donkeys to expedite further deportations to Tarsus in Adana province. In order to end extortion, the IAMM director had established a fixed price for transportation– in other words, as many Armenians as possible were to pay for their own deportation. Thus, the rich were to go first, while those in need would receive supplies. A mixed commission formed by the sub-district governor, the local mayor, and an Armenian from

184  Hilmar Kaiser Konia would determine those deportees who could obtain transport provided by the government. Shukru Bey had put the sub-district governor in charge of deportations, provisioning, and security along the route to Pozanti until the arrival of a competent official. Furthermore, armed guards in uniform would accompany the caravans as far as Tarsus. Thus, he implicitly acknowledged the assaults and killings in the Taurus Mountains. Apparently, it took him only a short time in any given place to sort out problems that, according to local reports, had been insurmountable. But this optimism met almost immediately with a sobering reality check. On 8 September 1915, Djelal Bey disputed Shukru Bey’s claim that transportation across the mountains had been secured. In fact, the sub-district governor of Ereghli had reported that he could not provide the means and so Djelal Bey had both stopped deportations from Konia and demanded a delay in deportations to Konia. The Ministry of the Interior, however, insisted that Shukru Bey had indeed solved all the problems and that there was no reason for any postponement. Djelal Bey should dispatch an official to Ereghli to facilitate deportations. Moreover, an investigation had to take place into the abuses of police officials and gendarmes at Ereghli, and the governor should bear in mind that delays at Konia would lead to problems in Eskishehir and Kutahia districts. Djelal Bey replied that he had become aware of the incidents during his visit to Ereghli and had already entrusted the sub-district governor with the investigation. In other words, he rejected the implication that he was unaware of conditions at Ereghli and that it had been Shukru Bey who had uncovered the abuses. He also pointed out that, contrary to Shukru Bey’s assurance, no orders had been given for supplying more railway carriages to the provincial authorities. Thus, despite all efforts to deport as many Armenians as possible to Ereghli, the throng at Konia continued to increase on account of the large number of new arrivals. Djelal Bey warned that thousands would die in the open once seasonal rains began within a couple of weeks. At least forty railway carriages were needed per day to move people on and avoid such a catastrophe. The situation in Afion district was no better: 25,000 Armenians had arrived in carts or on foot, most of the latter women and children. They were emaciated, “hungry, without medicine, and naked.” Several deaths had already occurred, and it was out of question to walk them off towards Konia. It was only a question of time before epidemics broke out. Shevket Bey implored his superiors to make more railway carriages available. In response, the Ministry of the Interior ordered the authorities along the railway line to supply information on the number of Armenians and further details about their destination. Evidently, the situation was far from under control, and even basic data was lacking.38

Ulukishla At Ulukishla, Shukru Bey came across a crime network. Apparently, in order to steal money, the sub-district governor, Rifat Bey, and the gendarmerie commander, Hasan Bey, had killed an Armenian priest and five other persons in a valley between Ulukishla and Pozanti. The commander was also involved

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  185 in a well-organized extortion business, demanding 2 liras from each passing Armenian. When a superior officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Galib Bey, intervened, Hasan Bey claimed in vain that he had received the money as a gift. Galib Bey also collected overwhelming evidence against another officer, Muharrem Bey, who had abducted an Armenian girl, Hayganush. Shukru Bey deplored the fact that he could not personally investigate the incidents, as he was busy with the reorganization of deportations, and so he suggested that the governor of Nighde district should conduct an investigation at Ulukishla and supervise deportations. Governor Nazim Bey therefore removed Rifat Bey from office. Given the importance of the town, he requested a quick replacement. During the investigation into the murder of four Armenians on the road to Pozanti, the accused maintained that they had been acting in self-defense. It could not be established beyond doubt that the officials had taken the money belts from the dead Armenians because reports to the district authorities had been tampered with. Moreover, the weapons allegedly used by the Armenians against the gendarmes had disappeared. Nazim Bey dismissed the excuses, suspended the suspects from office, and asked for permission to court-martial Rifat Bey and Hasan Bey. However, the accusations concerning Hasan Bey’s extortion scheme could not be substantiated, as it was said that the money had been collected for the purchase of train tickets. Still, the officer remained under investigation. Nazim Bey also saw to it that the Armenian girl Hayganush was sent back to Istanbul, although the local judge, civil officials, and commander Galib Bey had certified her marriage with Muharrem Bey, who also remained under investigation. Talat Bey agreed that the EUM would take the deposition of Hayganush upon her arrival in Istanbul. Meanwhile, Hasan Bey was sent for trial. The authorities, however, sent Hayganush to Tarsus to join her deported family. On 27 November 1915, the Ministry of the Interior ordered Rifat Bey be court-martialed.39

The manual of 10 September 1915 The Ministry of the Interior had been satisfied with Shukru Bey’s reports so far but asked for more information about the measures implemented and the number of deportees at Adana. On 6 September 1915, an IAMM official was sent from Istanbul carrying a code book for Shukru Bey, thereby enabling him to communicate with his superiors without depending on provincial officials to encrypt his dispatches. Now profiting from entirely secret communication, the IAMM director identified a number of reasons for the problems that had led to overcrowding at the railway stations. Most important was that the military had taken over most means of transport and the running of the railway; secondly, the funds for all forms of transport were insufficient; thirdly, there were no special deportation officials; fourthly, local officials either did not coordinate their work or lacked the necessary dedication; and, fifthly, leading officials were inconsistent in their approach. Some governors hated the deportees while others showed excessive compassion. A number of officials, such as the governor of Eskishehir, Refet Bey, were weak or acted carelessly. Finally, up to 80 percent of the railway employees

186  Hilmar Kaiser were Armenians, who did their best to obstruct deportations. Shukru Bey was convinced that the first three of these problems could be resolved within the administration. To eliminate the lack of coordination, he issued a detailed manual on 10 September 1915. Shukru Bey had also created two inspectorates along the deportation route. A central government official had been appointed at Eskishehir to supervise deportations between the city and Konia, while an IAMM official placed at Ereghli was in charge of the sector between Konia and his location. A number of local officials had been placed along the railway and highway between Ereghli and Tarsus in Adana province and were in charge of deportation and provisioning in these areas. Moreover, a mounted unit had been dispatched to the mountain region, as it was the most dangerous section of the route.40 Shukru Bey did not report on conditions or meetings at Adana, as Ali Munif Bey’s recent visit had probably brought about the changes required by the Interior Ministry. Thus he reported only on changes to the organization of deportations in the area of the Amanus Mountains: the Adana IAMM official was appointed to deportation duty at Osmanie while the local sub-district governor was in charge at Islahie. Furthermore, all decisions concerning the deportation, stay, or return of Armenians now depended on the approval of the ministry and no longer fell within the authority of provincial or district governors. Civil Inspector Eshref Bey was put in charge in Adana province and relieved of his duties as a member of the Adana Abandoned Property Commission. Central government thus effectively curbed the control of the previous Adana governor, Hakki Bey, over deportation matters by appointing an official who was directly answerable to Istanbul.41 Shukru Bey sought to incorporate a series of earlier orders in the 10 September manual which regulated deportations in the wider region traversed by the Anatolian and Baghdad railways. The twenty-four paragraphs of the manual reiterated that deportees had to be sent to the nearest railway station for onward movement. At the stations, soldiers’ families, Catholics, and Protestants who had officially recognized documentation proving their status, as well as unaccompanied women and children could decide if they wanted to continue to the designated destination areas. The alternative was dispersal within the district or province––as long as Armenians did not then exceed 10 percent of the population. Their names had to be entered in a special register that was submitted to the Ministry of the Interior. Soldiers, Protestants, Catholics, trained workers, artisans, railway employees, and other essential specialists would remain at their residences, together with their families. Soldiers’ families, however, could not include boys above the age of fifteen or married sisters. All others had to be deported to Ereghli and Pozanti by train, with all carriages filled to maximum capacity. The dispatch of trains––one every 24 hours––had to be coordinated by military commanders and station masters. Wealthy deportees, who had to pay their own fares, would be sent first, and the central government would pay for the others against the proper documentation. Officials appointed by the central government would be in charge of deportations and record-keeping at each station and might be assisted by district or provincial officials; it was the provincial and district authorities who were responsible for order, while the IAMM would provide the finance. Between Ereghli and

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  187 Pozanti deportees would be transported under guard in part by railway and in part by carriage or ox cart. Special attention was to be extended to women, children, and the needy. Onward transport to Tarsus depended on carriages, mules, and other means provided by the local administration. Again, wealthy deportees would finance their own transport while the IAMM would fund those in need, paying the cart drivers half on departure and the other half upon the safe arrival of the deportees. All convoys had to be coordinated. Unless they fell into one of the special categories, no Armenian was allowed to stay at their residence or return without the permission of the Interior Ministry. Only under special circumstances were district or provincial officials allowed to delay the deportation of individuals and forward their petition for exemption to the ministry. Local officials at the railway stations had to keep track of all deportees and the expenses incurred, which were forwarded to the Interior Ministry. New deportations depended on the rate of progress or on special orders from the ministry. The provincial, district, and sub-district governor were responsible for the full implementation of their orders, and negligent officials, as well as civilians who had attacked deportees, would be punished and even court-martialed. In a separate dispatch, Shukru Bey once more stressed that no Armenian deportee who had reached a railway station might return to their home under any circumstances.42 The Ottoman government approved the new manual on 20 September 1915 and forwarded copies to authorities along the railway line. However, the Konia governor, Djelal Bey, continued to resist. He suggested that the manual did not apply to soldiers’ families, Protestants, and Catholics in his province, who were concentrated in Ereghli, Sultanie, and Beyshehir sub-districts. Since these people had been expelled before he had received the new orders, Djelal Bey wanted to return them to their homes. In response, Shukru Bey warned him that this would be in violation of the Interior Ministry’s orders and that the people should be dispersed among the Muslim villages of the district. Djelal Bey responded that many such people were arriving from Angora province, and most families consisted of women and children only. Citing Shukru Bey’s manual, Djelal Bey pointed out that the deportation of these people was violating government policy. He had settled many such families in the province––15,000 at Konia and a large number at Ereghli––and he inquired whether these could also be accommodated within Konia province. Djelal Bey used the new manual to file a robust response to Shukru Bey’s accusations. Evidently, the governor was aware of the IAMM director’s views. Djelal Bey stated that the provincial authorities had deported 7,475 Armenians, more than two-thirds of whom (5,200) had been expelled from Karaman sub-district, while 2,634 Armenians had remained at Konia as Djelal Bey had not received orders for their deportation. The governor emphasized that he had implemented the Ministry of Interior’s orders to exempt soldier’s families, Catholics, Protestants, and qualified Armenians such as craftsmen. Those not covered by these categories had also remained behind as the new manual stipulated that, in order to avoid the concentration of deportees at railway stations, further movement needed to be authorized by the Ministry of the Interior. Shukru Bey had personally authorized the settlement of unsupported women in villages and

188  Hilmar Kaiser small towns, as long as they did not exceed 5 percent of the population, which had been confirmed by the central authorities. At the same time the situation of deportees at Konia continued to be desperate. About 21,000 were staying in the open or in tents, though 5,000 had found places in the city. There were 9,000 deportees at Ereghli, all awaiting further means of transport. As the military prohibited the use of the railway, some traveled by road, but many were too weak and sick to continue, and deaths had occurred. It was ten days’ march from Konia to Karaman, and those making the journey had to carry their own food. The next section, from Karaman to Ereghli, took twelve days, as did that between Ereghli and Pozanti. Moreover, funds recently supplied from the IAMM’s budget had almost been spent, and so provisioning the deportees could continue only for another two or three days. Shukru Bey accused Djelal Bey of procrastination and not applying fully the provisions of the new manual, and the Interior Ministry advised him that Shukru Bey’s instructions had to be followed. For his part, Djelal Bey assured his superiors of his willingness to follow orders. However, while the manual stated that soldiers’ families were not allowed to return to their original residences, the military authorities had ordered them to do so. Talat Bey therefore wanted to find out more about the military authorities. However, by the time this inquiry took place, the Interior Ministry had already removed Djelal Bey from his post.43 Djelal Bey’s intervention did not bring about any change of policy as far as Konia province was concerned. Still, he had made it clear that Shukru Bey’s manual and his other instructions were of questionable value as long as the central authorities failed to make available sufficient funds and means of transport. In other words, the IAMM director’s plan to move the Armenians towards the Syrian Desert as quickly as possible was based on wishful thinking. He assumed that orders alone would overcome the logistical, financial, and other problems faced by local officials. His instructions for coordinating and scheduling railway deportation were meaningless, as there were simply not enough trains available. The directives detailing the provisioning of deportees were not practical as, in many areas, especially south of Konia, deportees had to travel through barren plains. While Shukru Bey’s manual envisioned a somewhat more organized deportation process, in reality it served primarily to eliminate the influence of officials who disagreed with the reckless treatment of women, children, the elderly, and the handicapped. The Ministry of the Interior did not view the rising death toll among the deportees as a warning: the Armenians had to quit the railway no matter the cost to human life.

Aleppo At Islahie, Shukru Bey met with Civil Inspector Hamid Bey, who provided detailed information on the situation at Aleppo and the deportations in the region. Meanwhile, Talat Bey informed Bekir Sami Bey of the IAMM director’s pending arrival, as the authorities had to prepare comprehensive and up-to-date statistics on deportations and settlement. All decisions had to be made with reference to Shukru Bey. On 18 September 1915, the authorities in all the so-called destination

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  189 areas were informed about Shukru Bey’s mission and status, and Djemal Pasha was requested to assist him.44 On 22 September 1915, Shukru Bey sent his first report from Aleppo. At the time, 12,000 deportees were camped near Katma railway station, while 1,000 families and another 7,000 widows and orphans were at Aleppo. The IAMM director conceded that those women and children who had come from Diarbekir region were in a bad state––some had arrived naked––and could not be moved out of the town. Those arriving from northern provinces such as Sivas were also in a poor condition and had been found some accommodation. Shukru Bey attributed their situation to three months of travel and lack of provisions and reported that steps were being taken to address these problems. He did not mention that the Diarbekir authorities had subjected the deportees to assaults, systematic abuse, and murder, though he alluded to such crimes when he mentioned that the available gendarme forces were insufficient for the task at hand or of questionable trustworthiness. He had discussed the matter in a meeting with Bekir Sami Bey and Fourth Army Deputy Commander Fakhri Pasha, and a decision had been made to hire additional security forces for forthcoming deportations. Soldier’s families would not be dispatched for the time being, while deported Syrian Orthodox and Chaldean Christians would be allowed to return to their homes. The meeting had also addressed the deportation of Armenians in the service of the railway company or working on railway construction sites. Of the 100,000 coming from the direction of Pozanti and Adana province, 30,000 would be sent by rail to Syria province, 10,000 to Aleppo province’s southern sub-districts, and 20,000 each were earmarked for Urfa’s southern areas, Der Zor, and Mosul province. However, the routes to Urfa district and Der Zor were insecure, provisioning was problematic, and the means of transport were insufficient. Thus, the meeting resolved that those who had arrived by train, and were therefore in a comparably good physical condition, as well as those who had their own means of transport, should be sent to the most distant destination––Mosul. Moreover, villages and small towns where deportations had not previously taken place were now emptied of their Armenian inhabitants in coordination with Syria province, one of the destination areas. Shukru announced that he would draft a second manual for reorganizing deportations within the region; he had already hired officials to take charge and had invited the district governors of Urfa, Zor, Aintab, and Marash to Aleppo to discuss arrangements. He was also in touch with Djemal Pasha, who had promised to support his efforts. As usual, the IAMM director gave no details concerning the desperate conditions in the camps, such as at Katma. People were dying from disease and starvation. Sahag II had visited the camp, but there was little he could do other than offering spiritual support.45 In the following days, Shukru Bey reported on his measures to deal with the employees of the railway company. Station masters and construction section engineers had to submit registers of their Armenian employees to the military railway inspectors and station commanders in order to prevent abuse. This measure would facilitate the deportation of those whose employment had not been sanctioned by the authorities or who were not considered essential. However, Talat Bey stopped

190  Hilmar Kaiser the planned deportation of both railway staff and construction workers as they and their immediate families had been temporarily exempted by the military authorities. A similar situation arose with some personnel of the Ottoman Bank, who had arrived at Aleppo and demanded to be exempted from deportation. The Ministry of Finance confirmed that the men had been transferred to new positions and were in transit at Aleppo and thus were spared from immediate deportation. Shukru Bey both disagreed with this decision and demanded the immediate deportation of the railway employees, as the men could interrupt traffic along the line for days, with obvious potential consequences for military operations. According to a telegram he had received from Fakhri Pasha, the latter shared his views that railway operations would not be impacted. Shukru Bey’s renewed proposal to deport the Armenian railway staff thus caused some surprise in Istanbul, as this whole question was a controversial issue. The German directors and owners of the railway had resisted initial steps to remove the Armenians, and so the Supreme High Command had decided that a joint commission would decide the matter. Shukru Bey’s report implied that Fakhri Pasha had overruled this decision. On further inquiry, however, it appeared that he had misrepresented the commander’s views. The latter had only shared concerns about the supply lines in the rear of the Fourth Army. Although he had also accepted that Armenians should be removed, Fakhri Pasha nevertheless argued that those who were not suspect were not to be touched until a special commission had passed decision on the matter. In other words, Shukru Bey’s claim that the employees would be deported with the consent of the Fourth Army depended on an insinuation that all Armenians were suspect. He had also conveniently omitted Fakhri Pasha’s reference to the commission. Apparently, the IAMM director sought to create a fait accompli despite knowing perfectly well what official government policy was and that the latter would not support his course of action. He tried to deport all the Armenians he could get hold of and was happy to misrepresent the views of a military commander as long as it suited his own purpose.46 On 25 September 1915, Shukru Bey issued a new manual for the authorities in Aleppo province, Marash, and Urfa district. For the time being, he brought a halt to all deportations and reconfirmed the exemption of soldiers’ families, widows, and children. The authorities also had to feed poor.47 The IAMM director underscored the difficulties he was facing in implementing his scheme in the area, and he requested a postponement. Moreover, it was necessary to move Armenians from Caesarea, Sivas, Diarbekir, Marash, and Urfa on to Kerkuk. In other words, he asked for a redirection of deportation in order to reduce the number of arrivals at Aleppo. The Ministry of the Interior accepted this proposal and instructed the authorities at Mosul, Diarbekir, Urfa, and Harput accordingly and added Akra and Dohuk sub-districts to the settlement area within Mosul province. Implementation of the order, however, proved to be more difficult on account of opposition by the Diarbekir governor, Reshid Bey. Once more, it became clear that the plans of the Interior Ministry and Shukru Bey did not adequately take into account the conditions in the region. The situation was further complicated by bad weather in Konia province, which obstructed grain deliveries for the military and so created

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  191 capacity for the transport of Armenians. Shukru Bey thus anticipated an increase in the number of those arriving in the transit camps.48 At Aleppo, too, the situation had deteriorated further. In September 1915 the death toll among deportees rose from twenty-five per day at the beginning of the month to over eighty on average; 110 died on 26 September 1915 and 95 on the following day. Often dead bodies remained abandoned in the streets. Undertakers were so badly organized that they collected not only dead bodies but at times people who were still alive. Rössler warned that deportations to Der Zor and Mosul would inevitably lead to the death of the deportees by starvation. Muslim farm owners might take in some men as workers; a number of women could survive in Muslim harems, while some children could be assimilated.49 On 3 October 1915, public announcements informed Armenian deportees in Aleppo that they had to register with the police, which they understood as preparation for deportation. At the same time, news of the removal of Governor Bekir Sami Bey spread in the city. The Ottoman government had recalled him following negotiations between Talat Bey and Djemal Pasha. The Fourth Army Commander had tried to install Kazim Bey, one of his political allies and former governor of Salonica, as governor, but the central authorities appointed the former Bitlis governor, Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey. However, because the new governor did not arrive at his new post until November 1915, Shukru Bey found himself in a dominant position at Aleppo.50

The manual of 7 October 1915 On 1 October 1915, Shukru Bey convened a conference at Aleppo. He met with the district governors of Aintab, Marash, Urfa, and Der Zor to discuss the acceleration of deportations and the settlement of the deportees.51 Following the meeting, the director drafted a new manual under the date of 7 October 1915, which he submitted to the Ministry of the Interior the following day. Without waiting for his superiors’ approval, he sent copies of the instructions to the district and subdistrict authorities in those areas covered by the new manual. Deportations recommenced and Shukru Bey assumed the title of “General Director of Deportations.” He reported that one of the first measures had been the successful provisioning of the transit camp at Katma. At the same time, 200 sacks of flour were sent by camel to Meskene. The governor of Aleppo was in charge of the city’s deportations, while Shukru Bey was in charge of general administration in Aleppo province and Urfa and Zor districts. However, he needed a competent assistant who would work closely with him as he had to return to Istanbul in due course. The lack of transportation remained a critical problem, and steps had been taken with neighboring districts to alleviate the situation.52 The new manual was the most detailed Shukru Bey had drafted so far and was intended to complement the provisions of 25 September, which remained in effect. The document appeared to be in part the minutes of the conference. It singled out groups of deportees at specific places and provided specific instructions for their onward movement. Usually such orders would be forwarded by

192  Hilmar Kaiser telegram to the competent local authorities, and so parts of manual were bound to be irrelevant once the immediate problem had been resolved. Other provisions of the manual established new administrative structures, assigned responsibilities, and offered guidelines to be followed over an extended period of time. But the document was hastily composed and revealed a degree of improvisation: one paragraph was omitted while another section remained incomplete. The manual established the office of a “General Directorate of Deportations” at Aleppo whose director became the assistant of the general director, thereby reducing the official’s authority. The assistant’s work was to focus his efforts on Aleppo city. Shukru Bey headed the new administration in his new role as general director and was in charge of deportations in Aleppo province, as well as in Marash, Urfa, and Der Zor districts. He appointed officials or sanctioned the appointment of officials by governors, district governors, and sub-district governors. The new administration was to manage transit camps at places such as Aleppo, Katma, Muslimie, Surutch, and Rasulain and supply centers at locations along the deportation routes beside the Euphrates such as Meskene, Abuharara, Hamam, Sabka, Sheria, and Tibni. Special officials in charge of deportations and provisioning would serve there and in the settlement areas of Rakka and Harran, both in southern Urfa district, and in Zor district. The Aleppo deportation office controlled satellite offices along the railway line as far as Djerablus; the office at Zor was in charge of the branches within the district, while the offices at Rakka and Meskene supervised only Hamam and Abuharara respectively. The four offices reported to the local governor but could correspond directly with the general director in special cases as long as the local governors remained informed. Similarly, the general director at Aleppo could communicate directly with these offices. Thus, the directorate was able to utilize the civil administration’s infrastructure while maintaining a measure of flexibility. The new administration did not relieve the governors and other civil officials of their duties as far as the deportations were concerned. Aside from the general director, the governors of Aleppo, Zor, Marash, and Urfa were responsible for the implementation of the joint decisions as recorded in the manual. Nevertheless, the general director had superior authority and his orders had to be followed. In coordination with the general director, district and sub-district governors could implement their own manuals, thereby taking into account local and regional peculiarities. There was thus no independent authority, and the newly appointed officials were more an addition to the local administration. The IAMM was responsible for the locally hired deportation staff, who were paid according to their position, their exact wages being determined by the general director or the governors who had hired them. The manual also regulated the deportation routes. Deportees sent to Rakka and Zor would depart by rail and road from Aleppo or from Muslimie, though the overall priority was moving on the people in the camp at Katma. Since it was impossible to organize accommodation for the coming winter there and other places, those Armenians camping in the open had to be dispatched to the settlement areas at once. Some would be sent by rail to Syria province, while others had

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  193 to walk to Rakka and Zor. A second route was by rail from Muslimie to Tell Abiad and then by road to Rakka. As no means of transport were available at Tell Abiad, only the young and physically fit who could cover the distance on foot were to be sent by this route. Caravans of deportees would start to be formed about 48 hours before departure. All of them had to be registered by name, but, if this proved to be impossible, at least the number of deportees had to be recorded. A copy of the register was then handed over by the caravan’s escorting official to the local official on arrival. The size of the caravans was not to exceed 1,000 deportees, and enough guards had to be available to assist and protect the people. A minimum of 150 donkeys, mules, or camels would provide adequate transport to women, children, and the sick. Additional transport facilities had to be made to carry twoday’s supply, while the deportees were to carry their own supplies to last at least four days; water would be procured along the route. This was considered adequate to reach the next supply center. Shukru Bey gave no indication as to how he hoped to find the number of animals necessary to meet the demand as defined by his own manual. It appears that, once again, the manual was at best an expression of Shukru Bey’s wishful thinking rather than based on a realistic assessment of the situation at Aleppo and in the wider region. Given the large and increasing number of deportees, the manual also addressed the organization of supplies. Local authorities at Aleppo would distribute flour in the city or provide bread from public bakeries. A central depot would distribute flour to supply centers such as Katma and Muslimie within Aleppo’s central district. At the same time, the other districts had to secure supplies for those depots located within their jurisdictions. Neighboring districts were required to assist where necessary. The IAMM would finance expenses incurred. As district governors were responsible for the deportations in their area, they were also in charge of establishing these new supply centers and would supervise finances. In view of the ongoing dispatch of deportees to Zor, the supply centers along the road to and along the Euphrates and between Tell Abiad and Rakka had priority. Therefore, supplies had to be brought in overland or by river from Aintab and Biredjik. At the same time, adequate funding and supplies had to be made available to subdistricts where large concentrations of Armenians were expected, and the capacity for milling grain needed to be improved. Officials were thus encouraged to obtain hand mills from villagers and tribesmen. Additional staff could be hired for securing flour and means of transport. Shukru Bey also considered obtaining grain from the region’s tithe, as it was paid in kind. The manual also decreed that the supply centers would be equipped with bakeries. Where this was not feasible, centers should receive at least 100 metal iron plates for baking and cooking, while other plates were to be handed out to deportees on their way to the desert when they passed through cities such as Aleppo. The need for bakeries and other tools would be immense, as each deportee was supposed to receive 650 grams of bread or flour each day and children under the age of twelve would receive a half ration. A deportation official and another official responsible for provisioning would be in charge of these centers. Ten guards would assist them who were also responsible for the security at the supply center and along the road to the next supply post.

194  Hilmar Kaiser The guards and escorts had to ensure that the deportees had enough time to rest during the marches, which were to be neither excessively long nor forced. At least one resting place had to be created every three supply centers where medical personnel would attend to the sick, and those who fell ill along the road would be transported by guards to the closest supply post. The sick would join a later caravan following their recovery. Evidently, Shukru Bey presumed that his officials would be able to establish almost instantly a complex administrative network in a steppe and desert area that lacked basic infrastructure and which was subject to frequent attacks by Bedouin. Moreover, the new administration still had to find sufficient administrative personnel, while the question of procuring enough qualified and reliable security guards in a wartime situation had not been addressed at all. Addressing the settlement of deportees, the manual decreed that, as a first measure, 3,000 Armenian women and orphans concentrated at Surutch would be sent by the district authorities to Marash and Aintab in order to be dispersed in Muslim villages. Others at Surutch were to be settled at Harran. The manual singled out the Belh valley between Harran and Rakka as a settlement area for those sent to Urfa district, although it was left to the district authorities in Zor to decide on suitable settlement areas. Similarly, Aleppo province would determine the settlement of 10,000 Armenias who would be sent to its southern sub-districts. In general, such areas had to be fertile and possess sufficient water resources. Each family would receive adequate arable land and could temporarily obtain draft animals through arrangements with neighboring villages. Officials had to select those places where the arrival of deportees would not lead to disputes with villagers and tribes in the area and where there was some natural shelter against wind and cold––the deportees would have to spend the first winter in improvised quarters and tents. In other words, the assumption was made that the deportees could be settled on prime land in a desert area to which nobody laid claim. The government would establish new gendarmerie or police posts in the settlement area in order to maintain public security. The civil administration would also set up new townships [nahies] to incorporate the new settlements within the state structure. Given the lack of existing shelter, the manual advised that wealthy deportees had to be informed to provide for their transport, food supplies, tents, and other necessities, thereby reducing the demand on the authorities. Shelters intended for women and children were to be given priority. Governors could employ deportees for the construction of shelters and other projects while paying them a daily wage. Throughout the settlement areas, owners of large estates were permitted to hire deportees as day laborers. Others, who had to remain in Aleppo for the winter, were accommodated in a quarter near the station, which had to be emptied so became a ghetto. Shukru Bey and the governor Aleppo jointly implemented a manual for Aleppo city. For the time being the local authorities had to provide for all deportees who were temporarily in the city.53 At no point did the manual specify the locally available resources. The entire deportation plan was based on the assumption that sufficient supplies, qualified manpower, means of transport, and other necessities were available or could be

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  195 brought in from other areas. It did not address the security situation in the so-called settlement areas but implicitly suggested that all problems which had arisen so far were the result of insufficient coordination or planning. Nor did the new provisions take into account the limited agricultural potential and water resources. A simple calculation would have convinced any observer that there was not enough arable land available. Similarly, assurances that the IAMM budget could cover all costs incurred were not backed by solid calculations. The claim was not much more than an expression of intent used to disguise the lack of a sustainable policy. The manual provided guidelines for sending people into the steppe and desert regions east of Aleppo and established a rudimentary administrative and security framework to allow the deportation process to continue. It did not, however, offer any practical solution for the problems associated the arrival of tens of thousands of people in a famine area. In sum, Shukru Bey’s plan aimed solely at removing Armenians from strategic, demographic, administrative, and economic core areas in Northern Syria, and, despite the manual’s rhetoric, their survival was of little concern to the Ottoman government. Only those deportees who were able to stay in Syria province and Aleppo’s southern sub-districts had a reasonable chance of finding shelter and enough food to survive in the short term.

The implementation The implementation of the manual met with resistance from the authorities at Marash. When Governor Kemal Bey learned about the plan to send 4,000 Armenian widows and small children to his district, he was less than pleased. Emphasizing that he had faced all sorts of dangers and difficulties during the deportation of an almost equal number of local Armenians, he failed to understand why the latter should be replaced with, as he put it, other “microbes” and “enemies of Islam and Turkism.” Moreover, he warned that the Muslim population might react violently to the arrival of more Armenians, and he demanded that they be sent towards the desert. Talat Bey took the governor’s strong protest seriously and made inquiries with Shukru Bey about the matter. The latter responded that the young women and children at Urfa and Aleppo were to be distributed to northern and eastern provinces and assimilated there; 3,000 would be sent to places in the Aintab, Marash, and Urfa districts. None, however, would be brought back from areas in the desert region.54 For the time being, Shukru Bey remained in charge of implementing the manual, as neither Abdulahad Nuri Bey, the candidate for the post of general director, nor the new provincial governor were in Aleppo. Although he had called for the early dispatch of the new governor, Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey was not expected to arrive before 17 October 1915. Given the urgency of the deportation program, the IAMM director did not wait for his arrival.55 Deportations in Aleppo province had resumed by 12 October. Katma and other transit camps had become ever more overcrowded because of the temporary halt. Shukru Bey announced that he was personally supervising the expulsion of Armenians from Aleppo city and was confident that this could be achieved

196  Hilmar Kaiser within ten to fifteen days. They would be sent to Zor, Rakka, and Karak to the east of the Jordan River. Only older women, women who had just given birth, and sick people would remain temporarily if they could produce a medical certificate showing that they were unfit. Some limited exemptions not covered by the new manual could be made in accordance with incoming orders from the Interior Ministry. At the same time, the IAMM director aimed to accelerate the dispatch of wealthy Armenians. Some of the deportees from other provinces maintained they were Iranian, and therefore citizens of a neutral state, or Italian subjects, and thus enemy aliens. Shukru Bey wanted to deport the alleged Italian citizens anyway and considered sending the supposedly Iranian subjects to Mosul and then to Iran. Talat Bey accepted the latter plan but insisted that all those who claimed to be Italian needed to be individually investigated. Those who were proven to be Italians had to be exempted. By now the authorities had begun to arrest Armenians in hiding and those who claimed to have been exempted from deportation and expel them as well. Finally, Shukru Bey obtained the Fourth Army’s consent for the dispatch of wealthier Armenians to the Hama, Homs, and Damascus areas, where they would be settled in villages near the railway line. This limited project was an exception from the general rule that no Armenians could take up residence within 25 kilometers of the next railway line. The authorities thus reduced the number of deportees who could be settled in these places from 10 percent to 2 percent of the population. The authorities in Syria province had to register the deportees on arrival and provide further information on the settlement areas. The Ministry of the Interior did not oppose this arrangement with the Fourth Army, even though it provided a precedent that, if enough political pressure was exerted, the railway exclusion zone could be used for the settlement of Armenians. The authorities only instructed Shukru Bey to identify the extraordinary settlement areas. He replied that the provincial authorities would settle Armenians up to ten percent of the population within Syria province east of a line roughly formed by the rivers Jordan and Orontes. The settlement areas also excluded the urban population centers. Thus, applying the 10 percent rule would mean that relatively few deportees could be settled within the province.56 By 17 October 1915, 2,000 deportees were leaving Aleppo every day. The local branches of the Tobacco Régie Administration, the Ottoman Bank, the German Orient Bank, and other companies put forward a variety of pretexts in the attempt to obstruct the removal of their personnel, as did German military officers and local railway staff. The German Consulate also made strong representations. Acting German Consul Hermann Hoffmann tried to protect a number of Armenians, including eight teachers in German schools in Aleppo and families who were otherwise connected to German institutions and had been sent to the city. The son of one Armenian family was serving in the Germany army. Shukru Bey warned that the deportees from the eastern provinces were the most dangerous and under no circumstances were they permitted to remain in Aleppo. He also asked the central government to back him up. Talat Bey approved of the renewed deportations and the way these were executed. He announced that the central government intended to file a complaint with the German Embassy and inquired if

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  197 the representations had been made in an official form and as to their precise content. Shukru Bey replied that the consul had renewed his representations with the provincial authorities in an official form but these had again been rejected. Talat Bey turned to the provincial authorities for clarification, and the acting Aleppo governor, Halid Bey, informed him that Hoffmann’s official representations had been limited to the Armenian staff of German institutions. On the other hand, he had spoken with the police and deportation officials concerning other Armenians. Finally, following the intervention of the German Embassy, Talat Bey permitted the Armenians on Hoffmann’s list to stay in Aleppo.57 Hoffmann also took a strong general interest in the deportations. He reported that, on 17 October 1915, the authorities had announced that about 20,000 Armenians had to move to a concentration camp outside the city. Deportations by rail had recommenced, but means of transport were limited. Thus, many had to leave behind most of their remaining possessions. Hoffmann had learned from a high-ranking provincial official that 40,000 deportees were concentrated at Katma and Radjo and that 300,000 deportees had been sent to the desert east of Aleppo or south to the Hauran. The man had no illusions about their fate. He was certain that the people would die, as the government had so far failed to settle Muslim refugees during peace time. Funding, personnel, and all other resources were lacking for such a huge undertaking. Julius Loytved-Hardegg, the German Consul at Damascus, came to a similar conclusion. He reported that authorities were apparently treating the deportees well and that, by 26 August 1915, 3,000 Armenians had been sent to the area around Karak. A further 60,000 were allegedly to be sent to the Hauran and Karak regions. At the end of September, Consul Jackson at Aleppo calculated that only 15 percent of the deportees survived the marches towards Aleppo and estimated the overall Armenian death toll at the time at 1 million. Contrary to Shukru Bey’s scheme, the concentration camps were not provided with tents, flour, and firewood, and the authorities had removed the deportees’ farming implements.58 The teachers of a German school in Aleppo filed a strong protest with the German government, describing the appalling conditions of Armenian deportees in a building opposite their school. Throughout October 1915 more than 800 women, children, and old men had been kept there. The authorities designated the place as a hospital, but no medical care was provided. In fact, it provided a controlled location for these people to meet their end, rather than letting them die in the streets. Throughout the yard, decomposing bodies of the dead, the dying, and the sick were left in their own waste, surrounded by swarms of flies. Hoffmann documented the situation by taking three photographs (see Figures 8.2, 8.3 and 8.4). Occasionally, the authorities distributed bread, cooked lentils, or cracked wheat, but the food was difficult to digest for the weakened people. The school staff and Hoffmann extended some help, and during their efforts three teachers and two Armenian assistants contracted typhoid fever. The place was only a short walk away from a government building, a police station, and the military supply administration. Between 100 and 200 deportees died every day. The death toll rose continuously throughout the month of October 1915 and typhus spread.

198  Hilmar Kaiser The ban on sending caravans into Aleppo was not uniformly applied, and some gendarmes still entered the city with their load of half-dead women and children. Local authorities reacted promptly and arrested the official in charge of a caravan for entering the city and not for the loss of human life.59 Hoffmann concluded that the deportation of Armenians was virtually equivalent to their extermination. He left it to the consideration of his superiors as to whether this was the central government’s plan but added that Eyub Bey had stated that the authorities wanted to wipe out the Armenian name.60 Djemal Pasha supported both the formation of the deportation directorate at Aleppo and Shukru Bey’s view that the number of Armenian railway staff had to be reduced to a minimum. He also entertained concerns about the activities of German officers, as Colonel Dagobert Von Mikusch of the German Supply Command at Aleppo had been taking photos of deportees. He had issued strict orders against such activity and demanded that the staff of the Baghdad Railway gave up all materials and negatives within 48 hours.61 Meanwhile, Shukru Bey planned to deport Catholicos Sahag II and the clerics in his retinue from the city, claiming that their presence was not without dangers. He suggested relocating the supposedly dangerous cleric to a safer place. The desire to get rid of the church leader must have increased when, on 18 October

Figure 8.2 The yard of the house opposite to the German School in which, in September and October 1915, the government placed Armenian deportees who were suffering from contagious diseases.

Figure 8.3 The yard served as living and sleeping quarters and also as a toilet: the ground was completely covered in human feces, leading to between twenty and thirty deaths every day.

Figure 8.4  The living, the sick, and the dying were all covered in flies.

200  Hilmar Kaiser 1915, he submitted a petition to the Ottoman government in which he highlighted that, at Aleppo, deportees died for want of the most basic needs for survival. At that time at least 140 were dying every day in the city, and the death rate would only increase when people were moved to the open desert. Sahag II warned that preparations for deportations and settlement were inadequate. When the Aleppo authorities informed Djemal Pasha of the need to remove the Catholicos from Aleppo, the general insisted that they needed to submit the matter to the Ministry of the Interior and suggested returning the clerics to the seat of the Catholicosate at Kozan, in Adana province. In support of Sahag II’s petition, Djemal Pasha added that the statements were honest and true. Shukru Bey and his associates had apparently hoped to obtain Djemal Pasha’s permission to deport the clerics on the grounds of military necessity. But the Interior Ministry agreed with the IAMM director’s views on Sahag II and his retinue and inquired with the Ministry of Justice and Religion as to the latter’s views. For the time being, the clerics were sent to Urfa district or a sub-district within Aleppo province. Shukru Bey proposed to detain the Catholicos and the members of the “Religious Council” at Membidj and refused Sahag II’s suggestion of sending some of the clerics to other locations. He wanted control of the men and to reduce their influence, for his intention was that the Catholicosate would soon be a thing of the past. Talat Bey deemed the matter important enough to brief Djemal Pasha on Shukru Bey’s proposal, and the commander suggested transferring Sahag II with three of his clerics to Jerusalem while keeping the other members of his retinue at Membidj. He had already informed Shukru Bey about this. Talat Bey accepted the proposal and gave orders to that effect.62 Shukru Bey’s initial reports on the dispatch of deportees from Aleppo did not provide information concerning the situation along the routes of travel or in settlement areas. Djemal Pasha, who had a much less optimistic view of the situation, estimated that there were nearly 200,000 Armenians on the road to settlements areas or concentrated in and around Aleppo. Since the available means of transport barely sufficed to settle these people before the winter, he demanded a stop to all deportations in the direction of Zor district and Syria province. Armenian deportees who had not reached Pozanti in the Fourth Army’s area of control should be placed for the duration of the winter in Konia and other provinces. Those Armenians considered to be dangerous, or whom the authorities considered had to leave Istanbul regardless, should be sent to locations nearby. Djemal Pasha warned that those caravans already in transit would cause congestion to the supply lines to Mosul, and contagious diseases were likely to threaten the Ottoman army. Talat Bey, in a somewhat unusual response, demanded detailed statistics on the number of Armenians and their current whereabouts. The commander reacted by stating that he had immediately asked Shukru Bey to investigate the matter and report to his superior. The response was a reminder that the military was not answerable to the Ministry of the Interior; on the contrary, it was the Fourth Army that gave instructions to civil officials such as Shukru Bey. Talat Bey understood this thinly veiled reprimand and claimed that his earlier request had been a mistake. On 27 October 1915, he ordered the district and provincial authorities along the railway line to stop deportations. However, this order came too late for those

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  201 Armenians who had been expelled from their homes or who were not officially registered as resident within the district or province. While it met Djemal Pasha’s demands in part, it had only a limited impact on the number of deportees arriving in the Fourth Army region, as most Armenians had already been dispatched from their homes. When Djemal Pasha learned that at least 20,000 deportees were about to arrive at Pozanti, he renewed his representations and demanded that the deportees spend the winter in Caesarea district. In response, the Interior Ministry secured the support of the Supreme High Command in order to override the army commander. The military authorities along the Pozanti–Aleppo route had to provision Armenian deportees in the same way as Ottoman reserve soldiers. Yet, Djemal Pasha continued to insist on the basic military necessity that no additional deportees should be sent to his area of control, emphasizing that the civil administration had been unable to deal with the influx of deportees. He had also been investigating to conduct of Fethi Bey, the district governor of Osmanie, and urged Talat Bey to remove the official from his post. In his persistent confrontation with the Ministry of the Interior and its agenda for accelerating deportations, he left the authorities in no doubt that a major disaster was taking place and called for an urgent change in policy. Clearly, his concerns were not in tune with the government’s intentions.63

Disease control The stream of deportees did in fact hinder military transport and expedited the spread of disease along the supply lines. Already in August 1915, the Fourth Army had put Dr. Krieger, a Jewish physician with links to the Zionist movement, in charge of disease control along the railway line to Damascus. Near the ruins of Baalbek, Krieger found at least 3,000 deportees, many of whom were sick, together with dead bodies in different stages of decomposition that had been left unburied for some time. The authorities did nothing to help, and only a German hotel owner, Ms. Zapf, and some Christian Arab families rendered aid. At the local railway station, several hundred Armenians were camping and waiting for freight trains to Rayak. Most of them suffered from fever and had lost their younger children to the disease. There were already two camps at Rayak with about 4,000 deportees in tents. Malaria tropica was rampant and claimed several deaths each day. About 80 percent of the people suffered from diarrhea. Within a short while typhoid fever spread from Aleppo along the railway to Damascus. The death toll was horrifying, as the disease had a mortality of about 60 percent. The Fourth Army’s Chief of Staff, Friedrich Count Kress von Kressenstein, noted that, at Aleppo, typhus had spread further, and there were now 180 deaths per day. On 22 October 1915, Djemal Pasha warned the authorities at Aleppo that, contrary to his earlier orders, sick Armenian deportees had been sent south by train; 106 had arrived at Rayak, including some diagnosed with typhus, while three corpses had been found on a train. The commander reiterated his earlier orders and accepted Kress’s advice that an inspection of the situation along the supply lines was imperative. On 1 November 1915, the Fourth Army’s General Staff left Jerusalem for Aleppo. It was perhaps no coincidence that the military authorities at Aleppo

202  Hilmar Kaiser urged Eyub Bey to stop sending sick Armenians south by train, despite the clear evidence of two Armenian physicians, Dr. Khatchik Boghossian and Dr. Toros Ovadjian, who were in charge of screening the departing deportees. It took the IAMM official two weeks to confirm that the requested orders had been issued. On 4 November 1915 Kress and fellow officers visited an Armenian church and school in Aleppo holding 1,000 deportees many of whom sick or dying of typhus, dysentery, and exhaustion. Kress denounced the government’s incompetence to organize supplies and the rampant corruption of local officials and gendarmes, who were nothing but thieves. In his diary he noted the atrocities the people had endured. Djemal Pasha’s arrival had brought about some change. Schools had been closed on 26 October 1915 as a precautionary measure but were to open when the commander arrived. Fearful officials had also ordered buildings holding deportees to be cleaned up. Kress, who saw dying deportees soiled with human waste, considered that the responsible officials should be executed. Typhus was reigning in the city. In response, the Fourth Army Command had ordered the transfer of all those who were beyond help to villages to die quietly. Others who were sick would be isolated in a special field hospital and medical staff conducted checks of the entire population. The local military hospitals, too, were in a terrible condition, not unlike that of the deportees. Kress had drafted comprehensive orders to combat the epidemic. On 5 November 1915, Shukru Bey was put in charge of removing all Armenians from the city and isolating the sick. The provincial authorities were responsible for disseminating new health regulations. All schools remained closed. Physicians had to report all cases of typhus and other contagious diseases to the authorities. Djemal Pasha appointed a German physician, Dr. Wieland, to take charge of public health and coordinate decontamination and the isolation of the sick. The provincial authorities did not have the minimal funds needed to implement the plans. Thus, Djemal Pasha ordered the army to advance the sum but the local military authorities, too, could provide financial support. The entire overland route from Pozanti to Aleppo had been contaminated, so Djemal Pasha ordered that arriving soldiers had to camp outside the city. At the same time, the Fourth Army demanded additional funds from Istanbul for medical work and the dispatch of German epidemiologists, though still little was done on the ground. Colonel Mikusch warned that the measures were not implemented and “remained on paper.” Moreover, the authorities were covering up the extent of the epidemic. All this was also a personal embarrassment for Shukru Bey, who had been responsible for sanitary conditions in the city. Although the epidemic was spreading before his very eyes, his reports did not address the issue––an intentional omission that should have been a warning not to place too much trust in the IAMM director. Djemal Pasha informed Talat Bey that he would travel to Istanbul to report personally on the situation, and the Interior Ministry transferred 1,000 liras for medical work.64 The Ministry of the Interior had also learned that epidemics of typhus and dysentery were spreading among the at least 20,000 deportees at Hama, seventy to eighty of whom died every day. Talat Bey demanded that the sick be deported to places where they could not endanger public health, ignoring the provisions of the manual concerning adequate medical care. These Armenians were comparably

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  203 lucky, as they had been deported to areas with a much better infrastructure than the desert regions east of Aleppo. Shukru Bey met with the officials from Hama district and Syria province at Aleppo and also sent telegrams to Hama and Homs. The Fourth Army command reported that daily deaths among deportees were occurring also from starvation, and so at least 100,000 liras were required for food. Talat Bey queried what had happened to the designated funds and if the money had indeed been transferred to Syria province. Shukru Bey replied that, as far as was possible, the authorities were supplying deportees with bread or flour or sometimes also cash. It was impossible to provide other food. At Aleppo, however, the sick received hot soup every day. Syria province was occasionally providing dates and soup to supplement the flour and bread rations. Confirming Loytved-Hardegg’s earlier assessment, Shukru Bey stated that only the deportees in the Hauran and Karak areas were in need because a local lack of supplies and that both Aleppo and Syria provinces needed an additional 150,000 liras in cash for the settlement and provisioning of deportees there and in Rakka and Zor. He promised that he would provide more information in the near future, but the report’s reassuring tone was hardly convincing.65 On 8 November 1915, the central government transferred 3,000 liras from the IAMM budget to finance the deportations and ordered the Aleppo Abandoned Property Commission to transfer 600,000 kurush generated from the sale of Armenian properties to the provincial authorities; Eskishehir district was to transfer 200,000 kurush. A week later, the Ministry of the Interior ordered the Bursa Abandoned Property Commission to transfer another 8,000 lira to Aleppo. The central authorities now abandoned all pretense of safe-keeping Armenian assets on behalf of their owners and used the money to deport the very same people to the desert. Given the immense sums needed, the available funds were little more than a drop in the ocean.66 Despite all the alleged achievements, it had become clear that the provisioning system outlined in the 7 October 1915 manual was non-existent. Supplies were simply not available. Shukru Bey appeared to have accepted these facts as a case of force majeure. He did not explain how his earlier miscalculations could have happened or whether he was trying to obtain supplies from other areas, nor did the failure have any visible impact on his euphemistic reporting. Since there were far more deportees who had been sent to the east of Aleppo than had been sent to Syria, it was clear that the budgetary pressure and need for supplies was far greater than Shukru Bey was prepared to admit. Moreover, assigning more money was not the easy solution the IAMM director believed it to be. While he claimed to have sufficient funds at Aleppo, he had still been unable to obtain needed supplies. It is thus unclear why he claimed it would be possible to supply deportees in the Hauran area, which was a famine region.

Urfa district The independent Urfa district played an important role in the deportation program. It was situated along the railway line to the east and thus served as one major route for outgoing caravans. At the same time, however, many caravans from the north

204  Hilmar Kaiser arrived in the area. Public security was therefore of high importance. Arab tribesmen took advantage of the lack of security forces in the area and began raiding, and Bedouin attacked a caravan near the southern border of the district, between Meskene and Abuharara. Fifty gendarmes were dispatched to deal with the incident. Many of the security forces, however, had been newly recruited and lacked training. Shukru Bey asked for reinforcements, while the local CUP was helpful in enlisting mounted irregulars. A week later, one hundred gendarmes arrived at Aleppo from Marash, providing some much needed additional manpower.67 On 25 October 1915, Shukru Bey left Aleppo for Urfa on the invitation of Fakhri Pasha and three days later filed a series of reports on the situation there. Some of the town’s Armenian population had revolted on 29 September and were now defending their quarter. By 16 October, the Ottoman military had taken control of most of the area and were searching for the last fighters in hiding, using fire to smoke them out. The streets were littered with killed Armenian men, women, and children. A court martial was dispensing summary death sentences. Despite the intense fighting, the quarter had by and large remained intact. Shukru Bey reported that only housing items and animals belonging to Armenians had been destroyed. This euphemistic summary referred to the pillaging of houses and killings of young boys by a mob of gendarmes and Muslim inhabitants that had stormed the quarter following the breakdown of the Armenians’ resistance. Properties in the villages had also remained intact. Shukru Bey urged that an Abandoned Property Commission be sent quickly from Istanbul in order to deal with these assets. Forming a commission involving local officials was out of the question, as abuses were likely to take place, and it was also necessary to compensate Muslims for losses sustained during the fighting. Shukru Bey insisted that the entire Armenian quarter be emptied as soon as possible. After the uprising about 8,000 Armenians remained at Urfa, 5,000 of whom were women and children, who were to be deported to Zor. Because of the lack of transport, women and children would have to walk. The men, however, would be sent separately to Mosul via Zor. Exempted from deportation were widows, orphans, and soldier’s families who were still remaining in the city. Sick Armenians would be given time to recover before being deported. Until that time they would be detained in emptied Armenian schools. Shukru Bey also deemed it impossible to deport or disperse about 1,000 children who had been abandoned or who had lost their parents during the fighting and proposed the establishment of an orphanage. This would not constitute a security risk as the Armenian community had been eliminated. Talaat Bey approved the orphans’ stay in the region. Similarly, some Armenian girls and young women who had been selected as servants, together with a number of Armenian bakers who had not been involved in the fighting, remained for the short term. On 20 November, however, they were removed and massacred at a distance from the city. The condition of many of the detained women and children awaiting deportation was desperate. The luckier ones were in a large enclosed structure, where they were allowed to purchase food at inflated prices. Even at this comparably well-organized place the guards removed dead bodies two times per day. The sick were left among the dead. Gendarmes, who were at liberty to rape women and

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  205 girls, mutilated many of their victims and smashed small children against stone walls and rocks. Many women abandoned their youngest children when they left, being too weak to breastfeed or carry them.68 Urfa district had been part of the overall deportation arrangements to the desert districts. Thus these had to be modified. Railway deportations to Urfa’s Tell Abiad station had ceased. With this significant decrease in available transport facilities, Bab, under the authority of the Aleppo deportation directorate, became the distribution center for deportees bound for Rakka and Zor, while Katma and Aleppo would be the centers for the distribution of deportees by rail. Every deportee who was deemed physically fit to walk had to do so and accompany the caravans of those who had their own means of transport. None was allowed to enter Aleppo city; all had to proceed directly to Bab. As a precaution the authorities assigned as guards only gendarmes who had no personal or family connections with Aleppo. Shukru Bey hoped that this would reduce the likelihood of their attempting to divert deportee caravans to the city.69 Aside from arranging the deportations from Urfa, Shukru Bey reviewed the civil administration in the region. Following District Governor Haidar Bey’s offer to resign, the central authorities considered a local judge as his temporary replacement. The latter, however, was implicated in the embezzlement of socalled Armenian abandoned properties and had taken about 120 liras. The Interior Ministry accepted Shukru Bey’s objection to his appointment and advised that the new district governor, Fethi Bey, who had just had been removed from his position as district governor of Osmanie, would arrive within days. Until then, the sub-district governor of Membidj would be in charge at Urfa. Following inspections at Rasulain, Shukru Bey praised the sub-district governor, Yusuf Zia Bey, for his honesty and zeal in executing the deportations. The IAMM director also recruited fifty Chechens for security tasks between Aleppo and Meskene. The situation at Tell Abiad station, the center of Harran sub-district, was unsatisfactory and the sub-district governor was incompetent. The first deportee caravan from Urfa had undergone a series of abuses on the way to Rakka, and the gendarmes had just looked on when locals abducted women. Shukru Bey was equally upset that some deportees had managed to stay behind in villages near the railway line. On the other hand, the use of mounted units had proven to be an excellent tool, as two caravans had been deported in perfect order. The Ministry of the Interior demanded investigations into the situation around Tell Abiad and ordered the responsible officials and gendarmes to be court-martialed. Meanwhile, Shukru Bey had visited Biredjik on the Euphrates and given orders for the deportation of Armenians in the area by river rafts.70 Shukru Bey’s report did not mention a single word of the desperate situation of deportees at Tell Abiad. In September 1915 soldiers who had been assigned to guard the railway line had robbed and massacred Armenians living in the area. Shortly before Shukru Bey’s arrival, Mr. Flechsig, a clerk at the German Consulate at Aleppo, had visited the place. According to local information, the deportee camp had housed up to 5,000 people, survivors of the death marches from the north, 3,000 of whom had come from Amasia, though at the time of his visit there were only about 1,000 left. Generally, only old women and children made their

206  Hilmar Kaiser way to Tell Abiad. The men and older boys had been taken away, while the girls had been raped or murdered or been sold or given away by the guards. All those remaining were in the open; most were barefoot, had hardly any clothes left, and were infested with vermin. About 600 were sick and skeletal in appearance and had been left to die among human waste. The local authorities claimed that each deportee received 316 grams of bread and some meat, but, seeing the condition of the people, Flechsig doubted the information. He had also spoken with the German railway engineer Bastendorff. The deportees had to pay for the bread, which was of inferior quality as the bakers mixed it with other material. A gravedigger confirmed that no bread had been distributed for two days. The local gendarmerie sergeant, Nedjib Ahmed Bey, reacted to his complaint by whipping him. Flechsig verified the report and discovered that the commander had been hoarding flour but denied any responsibility while implicating the sub-district governor. On average twenty-five to thirty Armenians died every day at Tell Abiad. Of the 3,000 from Amasia, 1,000 had died within a month. The dead––and also people who were still alive––were buried in mass graves in the immediate vicinity of the camp. Bastendorff reported that Sub-District Governor Ghareb Bey, while professing to be an opponent of the deportation policy, viewed the death of Amenians with indifference if not pleasure. Local Arab employees of the Baghdad Railway Company, too, strongly denounced the conduct of the gendarmerie sergeant and overall government policies. When typhus began spreading, the camp was moved to a location 5 kilometers away and left to die there. One caravan departing from Tell Abiad left behind eighteen dead who were buried by the Baghdad Railway staff. The smell of decomposing bodies was perceived all along the line. Near Tell Abiad, attacks on Armenian women and children were frequent. Acting-Consul Hoffmann submitted information detailing the number of women and children killed in one assault. With the exception of only one, all women and girls had been raped, and some of the victims had been gagged or mutilated. At times, cart drivers and owners of camels protected the deportees against their guards. On at least one occasion, Anaza Bedouins protected a caravan on the way to Tell Abiad, much to the dislike of the local army commander, who insulted the Bedouin sheikh. Shortly afterwards, the officer disappeared without trace. Bastendorff estimated that about 10,000 deportees from Urfa passed through Tell Abiad in November and early December 1915. Railway physician Dr. Farah inquired with the military railway line commander Djemil Bey and inspector Mahmud Bey about the deportees’ destination. The commander replied “Rakka,” while Mahmud Bey expressed his consternation by adding “the road to Rakka.” On one occasion a woman from Urfa recognized the engineer and begged him to save her children. An overseer stopped her, shouting: “Nobody will be saved; you will walk until you croak. And when you die, the dogs will feed on you.” Fourth Army soldiers from Hama who were escorting the group demanded that the overseer provide bread, as the women had been on the road for two days, but he refused. After a few days, the caravan continued on its way to Rakka. From there, the people were forced to walk back to Tell Abiad and then return to Rakka. The distance between the two places was at least 90 kilometers. Bastendorff remarked that the losses were so high that a repetition of the

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  207 exercise was no longer necessary. Consul Rössler saw in this nothing less than the intentional annihilation of deportees by the Ottoman government authorities, while Bastendorff considered it simply as confirmation of what Shukru Bey had personally told him: “The final result has to be the extermination of the Armenian race. It is the constant struggle between Muslims and Armenians which is now definitively settled. The weaker has to disappear.”71

The Zor route The situation along the deportation route to Zor was no better. Despite Shukru Bey’s plan, no preparations had been made to provide the deportees with water, food, and shelter. Along long stretches there was only muddy river water, polluted by decomposing bodies and waste of all kind. The only available food was sold at exorbitant price. Firewood was lacking at the resting places, which were contaminated with human and other waste. A German eye-witness described Abuharara as “an immense pile of human manure” and a “place of death.” Human corpses and animal cadavers lined the route. At Meskene camp the authorities had shown no concern for the dying or the dead on the ground. At Sabka in Zor district, the local governor stated that 7,000 Armenians would be settled. One hundred new houses had been built and 250 more were under construction in a new neighborhood. The first arrivals had come from Zeitun and had received land and the permission to break stones for their houses. Some Armenians had opened workshops providing essential services while others ran small stores, though bread and flour were scarce. Conditions along the road and in the camps were appalling. The German traveler saw forty emaciated people suspected of being sick who had been expelled from the tent city by the deportees and abandoned to die. At Zor the population had grown from 14,000 to 30,000. Between 150 and 200 Armenians died per day, and the place was surrounded by extensive cemeteries. More than 1,000 of the sick were accommodated in three hospitals, but Zor had only two physicians, and the only pharmacy had almost no supplies left. The authorities tried to keep the town clean and were distributing some money, bread, and flour; bread and vegetables, however, did not suffice to feed the people. As at Sabka, the deportees were building new houses. Large tent camps had appeared outside the town, while across the river a camp for the dying had sprung up.72 Deportees at Katma faced terrible conditions. Shukru Bey had conceded the absence of any form of shelter provided by the government. As in other camps, the plan to provide each person with 316 grams of flour did not take place regularly and firewood was lacking. No sanitary preparations of any kind had been made. One single water source had to provide for tens of thousands of deportees as well as the local population, who challenged their right of access.73 In line with Shukru Bey’s praise for the authorities there, deportation by rail to Rasulain was in full swing by the end of October 1915, allowing for a faster evacuation of Aleppo and its surroundings. The Aleppo police were selling permits to deportees which allowed them to be travel towards Damascus instead of being sent to the eastern desert. By 7 November 1915, another 30,000 Armenians had passed through Damascus on their way to the Hauran and Karak districts, bringing

208  Hilmar Kaiser the number in those areas, according to estimates by the Austro-Hungarian ConsulGeneral, Karl Ranzi, to 50,000. He warned that the people were likely to perish as they lacked implements, animals, seeds, and shelter and were suffering from disease and hunger. Thus, in Damascus about thirty deportees died every day.74

Halting deportations Djemal Pasha’s persistent representations finally had some effect on the central authorities and the Ministry of the Interior began to modify its policies. The authorities had by now removed most of the Armenians, with only a fraction of the original population remaining––generally, less than 5 percent of the Muslim population. By the end of October 1915, the Ministry of the Interior permitted those Armenians who had not been deported from their homes in the area around the railway to remain, though the order did not affect those in the area who had already set out on their journey unless the ministry gave specific orders to that effect. At the same time, Talat Bey prohibited deportations from Adrianople province to Asia Minor. Armenians’ applications to be become Muslims were now to be accepted, and the authorities were supposed to return previously seized properties to converts or those who had not been deported. The Interior Ministry also ordered the immediate settlement of all Muslim refugees in the area in which they found themselves. On 4 November 1915, Talat Bey extended permission to convert to Armenian residents in other provinces of the empire who had not been deported and also to those who had been returned to their homes or kept back en route by special order of the ministry. The following day, he ordered provincial and district authorities to conduct a count of Armenians who had remained in their jurisdiction as residents and those who were in the process of deportation–– data which was essential for determining the actual percentage of Armenians and converted Armenians relative to the Muslim population. On 17 November, the ministry permitted Armenians who were ready for deportation but had not yet been sent away to be settled within the administrative districts they were at the time. The central government apparently felt confident that it had by and large obtained its goal of eliminating or at least dispersing the Armenian population. Now it was prepared to take into consideration the impact of the deportations on the overall war effort and public health––a point Djemal Pasha had been consistently emphasizing.75

Ismail Djanbolad Bey On 1 November 1915, the Ministry of the Interior dispatched EUM director Ismail Djanbolad Bey to the Fourth Army region in order to investigate conditions along the railway and to address Djemal Pasha’s demands for measures against the district governor of Osmanie and government personnel in Diarbekir province. These men had been responsible for abuses of and atrocities against deportees. Finally, Djanbolad Bey would make proposals for definitive arrangements concerning the Armenian deportations. Given the importance of his mission, the Interior Ministry provided him with a code that enabled him to communicate with

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  209 his superiors independently of the provincial authorities. Talat Bey and his assistant also kept Djanbolad Bey informed about decisions and on ongoing operations at Urfa by forwarding incoming telegrams. At the same time, the new Aleppo governor, Abdulhalik Bey, and the incoming Aleppo IAMM general director, Abdulahad Nuri Bey, left Istanbul for their posts. The Ministry of the Interior informed Shukru Bey of the arrival of the three men and ordered him to arrange for a meeting.76 On his way to Aleppo, Djanbolad Bey reported that Armenians were arriving in Ismid district from Adrianople province. As before, they would be sent on to Konia. About 4,000 had arrived so far and were in the open, exposed to the rains. No prior coordination had taken place. At Eskishehir the authorities were about to deport 500 artisans and other Armenians who had been in hiding. The Ministry of the Interior decided to stop this deportation in line with earlier orders, although it remained at Djanbolad Bey’s discretion to decide otherwise if he deemed it necessary and to issue his own orders accordingly. Meanwhile, the Afion governor, Shevket Bey, without the Interior Ministry’s prior permission, had retained fifteen Armenian bricklayers who had been deported from Banderma in Balikesir district. At Konia, Djanbolad Bey found several hundred Armenians, all of whom were suffering from contagious diseases or were disabled. At Ereghli, he saw 600 healthy deportees. The authorities were about to send away 400 by rail, while another 400 were ill, suffering mostly from dysentery and malaria. Some quarantine measures were being planned. At Ulukishla, there were approximately 2,000 deportees, mostly women and children, of whom 1,500 were being dispatched by cart or on foot to Pozanti, where 6,000 were camping. Those suffering from contagious diseases had not been isolated. Djanbolad Bey assigned two military doctors to the camp and requested further orders from Djemal Pasha. He did not mention that he had been welcomed to the Fourth Army region by one of the commander’s general staff officers, who was keeping a close eye on his activities. The presence the officer also explained how the EUM director had been able to assign military personnel to the deportee camp although he had no authority over the physicians. Further south, in the Taurus Mountains, Djanbolad Bey had seen between 8,000 and 10,000 deportees who were organizing themselves, though it was alleged that their principal concern was to cheat the Muslim population. Djanbolad Bey obviously had no sympathies for the victims of his own policies and was happy to blame the deportees. Two trains, each with about 3,000 deportees, departed daily from Gulek Boghaz station. By now the EUM director had entered the region of the typhus pandemic. At Osmanie he saw about 20,000 deportees, in the Amanus Mountains a further 2,500, and at Islahie railway station a concentration of between 7,000 and 8,000. By 7 November 1915, according to Djanbolad Bey, only 8,000 to 10,000 Armenians remained at Katma. On his arrival at Aleppo he estimated that about 3,000 to 4,000 sick deportees remained, as well as those in hiding or remaining on the basis of some sort of permit. He had not seen any dead between Adana and Aleppo, implying that he had seen such along the line before reaching Adana. In Aleppo a meeting had been scheduled concerning the deportation program with Shukru Bey, Djemal Pasha and the new governor who was about to arrive in the city.77

210  Hilmar Kaiser

The Aleppo conference The Aleppo conference of 9 November 1915 brought together the military commander of the region, Djemal Pasha, with the new governor of the province, Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey, and the directors of the EUM and IAMM, Ismail Djanbolad and Shukru Bey, the two top officials charged with implementing and supervising the Armenian deportations. The meeting convened under the presidency of Djemal Pasha and was to address the latter’s concerns regarding the deteriorating situation along the supply lines, and a decision was made that, from the morning of 10 November 1915 onwards, only 5,000 Armenians who arrived at Pozanti would be sent on into the Fourth Army region. Given the time needed to implement the order, this corresponded to an effective halt to all deportations south from Pozanti. Other deportees in the area were to spend the winter in suitable locations outside Djemal Pasha’s area of control. The conference also adopted the Interior Ministry’s decision not to deport Armenians from their homes any longer and that all deportations to the south of Aleppo would cease. Katma camp had to be emptied and the deportees sent first by rail to Tell Abiad and Rasulain, then along the Euphrates and Khabur rivers to the settlement areas around Rakka, Sabka, and Zor. If their numbers exceeded capacity, the deportees would have to move on Mosul province. The meeting further agreed that the Ministry of War would take action regarding the railway company’s Armenian staff and that Armenians whose employment at construction projects had been authorized were to remain at their work until the completion of the projects. A new regulation would organize their provisioning and provide guidance for their future deportation.78 Upon completion of his assignment, Ismail Djanbolad Bey left Aleppo for Istanbul. The decisions made at the meetings did not directly address Abdulhalik Bey’s role. In line with his regulations of 7 October 1915, Shukru Bey informed his superiors that the correspondence of provincial and district authorities concerning Armenian deportations should henceforward be addressed to the Aleppo governor, as the matter had been entrusted to him. There appears to have been some misunderstanding, however, as the central government informed the authorities in Konia and Syria provinces, as well as in Afion, Eskishehir, Ismid, Kutahia, and Nighde districts, that they should address their correspondence, as before, to Istanbul.79 This arrangement represented a departure from established Ottoman bureaucratic practice and was an acknowledgment that the Ministry of the Interior was unable to supervise, much less micro-manage, the deportations in the destination areas as defined by the conference. Deportations to Mosul appear to have been a more theoretical option, since the arrangements did not include that province. In some respects the meeting had also simply acknowledged the fact that the military authorities at Pozanti were unable to provision both soldiers and deportees. The Ministry of War therefore admitted that the earlier orders of the Supreme Army Command were impracticable and demanded that the civil authorities provide for the deportees.80 As the latter had already proven unable to do so, it was clear that deportations in that area could no longer continue unless the authorities were prepared to watch the major supply route of three Ottoman armies descend

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  211 into further chaos. These decisions represented a victory for Djemal Pasha: the Fourth Army’s immediate rear in Palestine had become off-limits for new waves of Armenian deportees who were likely to be suffering from deadly contagious diseases. The exemption from deportation for Armenian workers on the crucial railway and road construction projects in the northern sectors of the Fourth Army region was also of great importance.

New negotiations By 10 November 1910, nearly 60,000 Armenian deportees had been settled in the Hama, Homs, Hauran, and Karak districts. A number of widows had been dispersed for assimilation in the Damascus region. Only 300 people were still en route to their destinations. The remaining Armenian population was numerically insignificant. While the estimate of those in transit to the settlement areas appeared to be too low, it was clear that, at the time, the total number of deportees in Syria province was perhaps only half of the originally envisaged 120,000. Despite this, Djemal Pasha reiterated right after the meeting that the province had received the maximum number of deportees the area could accommodate. To expedite the evacuation of Katma camp, he proposed the transfer of four locomotives from service between Aleppo and Rayak to the Katma–Tell Abiad track. Having completed his review of conditions in Aleppo, the commander now planned to inspect the railway and supply line as far as Pozanti. This would also afford him the opportunity for a quick visit to Istanbul, where he wanted to meet with Talat Bey and the Supreme High Command. Djemal Pasha had not mentioned the Armenian deportations but he did intend to bring up the matter. Kress had been instrumental in arranging this plan. The commander announced his scheduled departure for Istanbul on 11 November 1915 and had already reached Pozanti when, on 13 November, Enver Pasha found some pretext to proscribe the visit. The latter had met with Talat Bey, and evidently the Fourth Army commander and his views were not welcome in the capital. Djemal Pasha therefore had to postpone his visit, but he had witnessed the terrible condition of Armenians along the route between Pozanti and Aleppo before his return to Aleppo on 17 November.81 At Aleppo, Abdulhalik Bey had submitted a first report on the deportations––a response to a requested census of deportees. Between 14 May and 9 November 1915, 122,604 Armenians had arrived in Aleppo province. Up to 5 November, the authorities had settled 9,943 of these in the province and had sent 94,807 further on. During the following four days, another 3,800 were dispatched and 12,261 were in the process of deportation.82 It was apparent that the evacuation of the camps in the province was well under way. Shukru Bey took advantage of Djemal Pasha’s absence in Pozanti and had met with general staff officer Ali Fuad Bey, Djemal Pasha’s right-hand man, with whom he brought up the matter of Armenians working on railway construction in the Amanus Mountains. German engineers had demanded the return of up to 500 workers and their families who had been deported earlier. Shukru Bey did not dispute the importance of the construction work and promised that adequate steps would be taken by the civil

212  Hilmar Kaiser authorities for the return of the workers. In his report to the Interior Ministry, however, he claimed that it was impossible to locate the deported workers and suggested employing Armenian deportees from the Katma camp. He also warned that the Germans were likely to employ Armenian deportees illegally, as they had done previously. Shukru Bey’s suggestions were designed to uphold the principle that no Armenian deportee would be allowed to return from a point east of Aleppo, and he acted in bad faith by promising to comply when he had no intention of doing so. In saying that men from the Katma camp could replace the deported staff, he was implying that the previous workforce engaged in tunnel construction had been unqualified, and so there had been no need to retain them in the first place. As the question involved military matters, Talat Bey spoke with Enver Pasha, and both agreed that the deported workers should not return and that, instead, the military would provide the required manpower from labor battalions.83 Following these deliberations, Shukru Bey moved to Damascus. He had already informed the provincial authorities that another 50,000 Armenian deportees would be arriving. The latter pointed out that preparations were lacking and that they needed to purchase tents and build barracks to shelter incoming deportees. The tents alone would cost 40,000 liras, while the immediate amount for the provisioning and transport of those deportees already in the province was 20,000 liras. Since the provincial authorities had no funds available, they requested a transfer of 60,000 liras and confirmation that they would be allowed temporarily to meet expenses from other budgets until the requested funds had been sent. Shukru Bey reported that deportees were still camping around railway stations or were accommodated in the towns. He planned to visit the Hauran district and Maan in the south of province, where he planned to implement necessary measures. As his superiors had ordered him to return to Istanbul, he requested a delay of seven days. The Ministry of the Interior, however, demanded his immediate return, as the Aleppo governor was now in charge of the organization and supervision of deportations in the entire region.84 Shukru Bey obliged and reported three days later from Islahie, east of the Amanus range.

The Amanus During his first visit to the area in September 1915, Shukru Bey had implemented some measures and had decided that women and children who had been abandoned and were without support should be dispersed and assimilated in Muslim villages.85 On 1 November, the Adana governor, Ismail Hakki Bey, filed a complaint with the Interior Ministry against the Osmanie (Djebeli Bereket) district governor, Fethi Bey. The entire district was apparently in a state of disorder, and he accused the district governor of being lazy. Avni Bey, the commander of the provincial gendarmerie, had reported a bad state of affairs in regard to the Armenian deportations. All this meant that Fethi Bey had to be removed. However, the Interior Ministry did not accept the complaint at face value and advised Ismail Hakki Bey that there was insufficient evidence to remove the Osmanie governor. Rumors alone were not enough. On 5 November 1915, Djemal Pasha, too, filed

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  213 a complaint against Fethi Bey. The commander had received numerous reports on the way the official had been organizing the deportations between Osmanie and Islahie––the section of the major deportation route that traversed the Amanus chain. Armenians had been camping in large numbers in the district, and Djemal Pasha had ordered an investigation by the Adana provincial authorities. Not surprisingly, the latter confirmed the information obtained by the Fourth Army and supported the removal of Fethi Bey from his post. Talat Bey was willing to consider the matter, as Ismail Djanbolad Bey was inspecting the situation at first hand. Ismail Hakki had also gone to the area and reported an estimated number of Armenians at Osmanie to be around 20,000, while at Islahie there were 8,000. He had taken measures to accelerate deportations in the district, as some of those at Osmanie had been there since July. Given the importance of Osmanie for military transport, he insisted that Fethi Bey should leave office and suggested that Edhem Bey, a former sub-district governor of Tarsus who had been appointed as district governor of Gallipoli, should replace the beleaguered official. Fethi Bey was presumably aware that his position had become delicate. In an unusual move, he reported directly to the Ministry of the Interior his recent achievement in deporting nearly 40,000 Armenians from Osmanie, saying that within two or three days all of them would be gone. This report was a tacit criticism of the Adana governor, who had been sending all deportees within Adana province on to Osmanie. Ismail Hakki Bey had indeed been concerned about depleted stores of grain and flour and so deemed it advisable to dispatch all Armenians as quickly as possible to the neighboring province of Aleppo. He expected that, within a week, there would be none left between the Taurus chain and Islahie unless new deportees arrived from the north. About a week later Hakki Bey reported that all of the approximately 50,000 to 60,000 Armenians had been deported. New deportees arrived, however, from Konia province, where the authorities were complaining of a lack of coordination and provisioning at Pozanti. Ismail Hakki Bey had the new arrivals sent directly from Pozanti to Osmanie, with no opportunity for rest en route. Within days, another 2,000 Armenians arrived at Pozanti. Thirty families were suffering from contagious diseases and had to be quarantined. One hundred Armenians were very weak, and the Adana provincial authorities planned to transport them to Osmanie once they had found some sort of transport. Importantly, news from Konia stated that another 8,000 deportees were about to be sent to Pozanti––in other words, the earlier orders to halt deportations were meaningless as far Konia province was concerned. The Konia governor, Samih Rifat Bey, believed that Konia province was a “center of Turkism” and so deported as many Armenians as possible. While Ismail Hakki Bey had hoped that the newly arrived deportees at Osmanie would be gone within a week, this did not happen. Officials were ignoring the district governor’s orders, and Fethi Bey agreed that his position had become untenable. The incoming reports convinced the Ministry of the Interior that a change of district governor was inevitable.86 On 24 November 1915, Shukru Bey reported from Islahie on his journey to Istanbul. About 20,000 deportees were in or around the town. He had learned that, contrary to orders, the railway company had secured the return of 400 deported

214  Hilmar Kaiser Armenians and their families. It was understood that several German engineers were preparing to depart for Maan, Karak, and also Zor, presumably in an attempt to reclaim more members of their deported workforce. One engineer, Mr. Köppel, had gone to Aleppo to recruit workers. Shukru Bey spoke with the engineer and tried to convince him that this was impossible and that workers could be found elsewhere. Although Köppel professed to accept the situation, he was nevertheless preparing for another visit to Aleppo. Shukru Bey therefore urged his superiors to issue instructions to frustrate the engineers’ efforts. The Germans’ hardly concealed defiance of government orders was in part due to Djemal Pasha’s support for them. He had asked Kress to inform the German consulate that the Ministry of the Interior would most likely obstruct Fourth Army efforts to return Armenian workers to the construction sites. After all, the civil authorities had effectively undone earlier guarantees by the Fourth Army for the security of the people. Kress had been working to secure their return as well and used his influence with his superior. An intervention by the German Embassy with the central authorities had become imperative, though no mention was to be made that Djemal Pasha had initiated the move. For the time being the commander had dispatched one his general staff officers, Abdulmedjid Bey, to Islahie to investigate ongoing deportations and the conduct of the local sub-district governor, Nusret Bey. According to a communication by the Fourth Army to Ismail Hakki Bey, the local governor had been neglecting his duties and should be immediately recalled to Adana. Djemal Pasha had also personally intervened and ordered Nusret Bey’s removal. This intervention was not unusual, as the military had already recalled the Djihan sub-district governor. Ismail Hakki Bey obliged and invited the controversial official for consultations to Adana. He did not, however, agree with the military’s assessment. During his visit to Islahie the Adana governor came to believe that Nusret Bey had acted appropriately and that the existing problems had been caused by Fethi Bey’s incompetence. Ismail Hakki considered the demanded recall unjust and, moreover, impracticable, as he had no suitable replacement. The provincial authorities had no information about the general staff officer’s assignment at Islahie. Furthermore, Ismail Hakki Bey did not know whether he should organize deportation matters in cooperation with the Aleppo governor, as ordered, or with the Fourth Army command. Shukru Bey agreed with the positive assessment of Nusret Bey’s work. He had learned that the latter had been involved in a quarrel with Abdulmedjid Bey, who had come to Islahie to recruit Armenian deportees for military factories. The officer claimed that Nusret Bey had interfered with his assignment and had secured the Fourth Army’s order for his recall. Nusret Bey, however, accused Abdulmedjid Bey of being aggressive and of recruiting 700 or 800 deportees for military workshops and exempting their families from further removal. In total, the order covered approximately 8,000 deportees. Following Nusret Bey’s recall to Adana, Abdulmedjid Bey assumed control at Islahie. Shukru Bey warned that the recall was damaging the honor of the sub-district governor and that it was at least problematic to recall him without prior investigation. He suggested a review of the affair by the Ministry of the Interior and ordered the dispatch of officials from Aleppo who would be in charge of deportations at Islahie. The Aleppo administration should also coordinate

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  215 the recruitment of deportees with the Fourth Army. In sum, Shukru Bey tried his best to restrict Abdulmedjid Bey’s actions and to render him redundant.87 This information was not to the liking of Talat Bey. He advised Djemal Pasha that he had recalled the governor of Osmanie in accordance with the commander’s wishes. Employing Ismail Hakki Bey’s reasoning, the Minister of the Interior blamed problems at Islahie on Fethi Bey’s failures and disputed that the Nusret Bey had been neglecting his duties. The claim was based solely on the allegations of Abdulmedjid Bey. Nusret Bey’s competence, good behavior and zeal were, however, a matter of established record. A recall could only take place after due process during which guilt had to be established. Thus, the current situation constituted an injustice, and Nusret Bey had to be returned to Islahie. In an open rebuke of the Fourth Army commander’s orders, Talat Bey advised Djemal Pasha that, in conformity with the decision at the Aleppo conference, he should address his concerns to the Aleppo governor. Recalls of officials, however, were dependent on the approval of the central authorities. In other words, he called into question the supremacy of military considerations within the Fourth Army region and assumed that the governor of Aleppo had superior authority. The telegram he sent was not much more than a well-calculated insult.88 Conditions in the Amanus Mountains and around Osmanie were, indeed, appalling. Paula Schäfer, a German missionary nurse working for the German Aid Society for Christian Relief Work in the Orient [Deutscher Hülfsbund für christliches Liebeswerk im Orient], had visited the camps around Osmanie. Attackers had seriously wounded deportees, mutilating them with knives and cutting their bodies open. At a second camp, she saw an estimated 30,000 to 40,000 starving deportees. When she began distributing bread, she was almost overwhelmed by a stampede. She had to pay the gendarmes to give permission to bury the dead. Typhus was prevalent in the entire region. However, the local civil authorities were very accommodating and willing to improve conditions, and they also gave Schäfer permission to collect the dying. Deportation across the Amanus Mountains was conducted with particular brutality. Children lost their parents in the chaos, and deportees were forced onwards by being hit with the rifle butts of the gendarmes. Often they stabbed women with bayonets. Schäfer had seen women with bleeding wounds.89 On 26 November 1915, Beatrice Rohner, a colleague of Schäfer, visited the camps near Mamure railway station, east of Osmanie. Once more, the distribution of bread to starving deportees led to chaos, as the supply was insufficient. When the people were suddently ordered to leave the camp, Rohner could not do much more than distribute some clothing and money. The sick, the dying, and small children were left behind. When Schäfer passed through Mamure a few days later, she counted about 200 families who were unable to move on because of sickness. The rain of the previous days and freezing temperatures had further aggravated the situation. All along her route across the mountains to Islahie, Schäfer saw struggling and dying people. She distributed bread to several thousand and rented hundreds of vehicles to assist the deportees. On 1 December 1915, she reached the camp at Islahie, where she came across piles of dead corpses next to the tents of

216  Hilmar Kaiser sick deportees. In one day alone, the authorities had buried 580 dead. Again, the starving people fought for the bread she was able to distribute while not attracting too much attention.90 In his response to Talat Bey, Djemal Pasha acknowledged the ministry’s authority in personnel matters involving district and sub-district governors, but only in principle. He reminded the minister that Abdulmedjid Bey was a general staff officer who enjoyed his full trust. In other words, he warned the civil authorities that false accusations against a leading officer or questioning the Fourth Army commander’s authority might give rise to serious consequences for those involved. Addressing his suggestions, Djemal Pasha advised Talat Bey that he had officially informed both Aleppo and Adana province about Abdulmedjid Bey’s assignment and he demanded that Nusret Bey stay at Adana until an investigation into his activities by an inspector from Aleppo province had been concluded, thus dismissing the civil authorities’ claims. Talat Bey flatly refuted Djemal Pasha’s reasoning and immediately reinstated Nusret Bey. He also advised the Adana governor that the recall of officials was the prerogative of the central authorities and that Djemal Pasha had been informed accordingly. In a further move, Talat Bey followed up Shukru Bey’s report on the Armenian railway construction workers. He involved the Ministry of War in his efforts to reverse the reported return of Armenian deportees to the construction sites in the Amanus and the German engineers’ efforts to return other deportees. While the minister did not raise the issue with the Fourth Army, he thought it advisable to involve the highest military authorities.91 Meanwhile, Djemal Pasha departed from Aleppo for Istanbul following an urgent invitation from Enver Pasha. He saw the long caravans of deportees and countless Armenian corpses along the road. Women were carrying their mothers on their backs. His comment was that his comrades in Istanbul had no problems in ordering such measures since they did not have to see the terrible consequences. Visibly shaken, he had his staff distribute all the money he and his entourage were carrying with them. At Mamure, the elderly Armenian Catholic Bishop of Caesarea implored Kress to save him. Djemal Pasha refused to see the bishop because he was too embarrassed. However, he authorized Kress to act as he thought fit. Kress gave the bishop and the other priests in his company military permits to go to an Armenian monastery in Jerusalem. The station commander at Mamure took advantage the deportees’ misery and every evening would extort money from the people in exchange for permission to remain. Kress remarked that he would surely have become a wealthy man had not Djemal Pasha had him hung on the spot. He had employed similar drastic measures at Islahie. When he learned that Kurds had repeatedly attacked the camp and massacred Armenian women and children, Djemal Pasha ordered his twelve bodyguards to hunt down the perpetrators. Several were caught and hanged.92 Already at Aleppo, Djemal Pasha had made good on his threats to punish offenders who had attacked Armenians. During a dinner in honor of Von der Goltz Pasha, he made a show of signing on a small piece of paper the death sentences for two Ottoman soldiers who had robbed and sexually assaulted Armenian women. On another occasion in Aleppo he ordered the police to hunt down a thief

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  217 who had robbed an Armenian of his golden watch. Within an hour, the authorities had apprehended a local resident, who was promptly hanged in front of the army headquarters for endangering the army supply lines.93

Conclusion Shukru Bey produced in his reports a significant body of material which provides insight into the overall deportation process. It became evident that central government orders were negotiated at the local level with officials who were often following their own course of action. Some officials offered resistance, while others were only too eager to participate in the program, and yet others showed indifference both to their orders and to the suffering of the deportees. The Ottoman administration thus did not operate smoothly. Central government orders were not synonymous with actual policy on the ground and in some cases constituted little more than intent or professed intent. This was the case particularly as far as Shukru Bey’s various manuals were concerned: they were testimonies of the official’s imagination. It was only too telling that he provided no detailed information on the implementation of his instructions. On an administrative level, Shukru Bey’s mission formed a departure from established Ottoman practice. He established a new regional command structure which would play a decisive role in determining the fate of Armenian deportees in 1916. Violence, hunger, epidemics, long marches, and adverse weather were major causes of death among Armenian deportees from the western provinces. In contract to the deportations from the eastern provinces, attacks were comparably limited and large-scale massacres did not occur in the fall of 1915. Thus, most deaths can be attributed to the Ottoman government’s failure to provide adequate provisions and shelter for the deportees. Conditions were further aggravated by the Ministry of the Interior’s insistence on continuing and even accelerating deportations, despite detailed information on the deadly consequences of its policy. Governors such as Kemal Bey in Marash and Samih Rifat Bey in Konia made no secret about their hatred towards Armenians and used explicit racist language in denouncing them as enemies or sub-human creatures. Such language had also been used by the “butcher” of Diarbekir, Governor Reshid Bey, who was responsible for the comprehensive slaughter of Armenians in and even beyond his province. Another official who had gained a reputation as a mass murderer was the Bitlis governor, Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey, who became Bekir Sami Bey’s successor at Aleppo. He enjoyed the trust of Talat Bey and belonged to the circle of dedicated CUP members who pushed through the destruction of the Ottoman Armenian communities. Following the new governor’s arrival at Aleppo on 8 November 1915, he was described by Kress as a very young, highly unlikable person. The “immature boy” neglected his duties, appeared at work late in the morning, spent work hours on leisure trips, and left most urgent measures for medical work unattended. He did, however, read through a backlog of telegrams concerning the deportations and gave instructions to Abdulahad Nuri Bey. The latter was also a proponent of Turkism and a brother of Yusuf Kemal Bey, an important CUP activist and Member

218  Hilmar Kaiser of Parliament. Following his assignment to Eskishehir, Abdulahad Nuri Bey had returned to Istanbul, where, like Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey, he received his instructions from Talat Bey. He told an informant of the Austro-Hungarian Embassy about an irreversible decision of the CUP according to which all Armenians had to be directed towards Zor district. During a meeting with Ihsan Bey, the sub-district governor of Kilis, Abdulahad Nuri Bey apparently claimed that the goal of the deportations was annihilation. This claim was identical with the earlier statement by Eyub Bey that the government wanted to wipe out the Armenian name. From November 1915 on, Eyub Bey was zealous in executing with particular brutality the deportations in Aleppo province. At the Azaz transit camp he attacked the deportees’ tents, allowing his horse to kick his victims and firing his revolver into the crowd. The gendarmes burned down the tents and forced the deportees on the road. The tent camp at Bab also became a scene of Eyub Bey’s ferocity and was burned down. The official became well known for being corrupt and a thief. He engaged in illicit dealings concerning transport and commissions, thereby accumulating considerable wealth. It seems that Eyub Bey had used his position to profit from the lack of supplies in the area and was most likely involved siphoning off supplies intended for deportees. His economic activities were unacceptable to the Interior Ministry, though his atrocities were not, and he was therefore removed as a result of information received from Aleppo province. While Shukru Bey agreed that the official had to be recalled from Aleppo, he still thought that the man could do good work at the IAMM in Istanbul. Talat Bey, however, ruled out any new assignment. Like Eyub Bey, Shukru Bey, too, believed that the Armenians had to be eliminated and informed Rössler as much.94 In other words, officials who shared a Turkist or racist worldview had been in control of deportations at Aleppo since October 1915. They made no secret of their determination to annihilate Armenians. Consequently, the high death toll was not only tolerated but welcome. Mitigating measures were linked to interference by the military, local humanitarian initiatives, and foreign intervention, although the last remained of limited importance. Using racist language, however, was not synonymous with engaging in criminal or genocidal activities. Bekir Sami Bey, too, had used such language, but he was not involved in massacres. On the contrary, he offered resistance to the Interior Ministry’s deportation policy. In doing so, he followed the example of his predecessor Djelal Bey. The latter continued his determined opposition against the deportation at his new post as governor of Konia province. Djelal Bey made no secret of his opposition and went repeatedly on record with his views. However, he was unable to stop deportations and could only ease the government policy’s impact on the victims. The most effective opposition came from the Ottoman Fourth Army. Using his authority as a military commander, Djemal Pasha made use of executions as a deterrent against attacks on deportees. More importantly, he campaigned tirelessly against the continuation of deportations from the western provinces by the time the eastern provinces had been effectively purged of their Armenian populations. Massacres did not take place in his area of control apart from three incidents in Urfa district, which were organized by external security forces mainly from Diarbekir. High-ranking officers and diplomatic personnel

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  219 recorded Djemal Pasha’s personal views at the time and also after the war and attested to his strong opposition against the actions of Talat Bey’s CUP faction. It was during Shukru Bey’s presence in the Fourth Army region that Djemal Pasha drew a line in the sand by executing prominent former members of the CUP’s terrorist wing who were serving in the so-called Special Organization.95 By November 1915 the stage was set for a conflict between the officers of the Fourth Army who opposed the Ministry of the Interior’s anti-Armenian annihilation campaign and the operatives at Aleppo, who had an established record of racism, brutality, and even the massacre of large numbers of victims.

Notes   1 This paper is partly based on my paper “Shukru Kaya and the Extermination of Ottoman Armenians: the Portrait of a Perpetrator,” presented in 2000. It is a sequel to a recent study: see Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies.”   2 Akçam, “Ermeni Meselesi Hallolunmuştur,” pp. 271–306; Üngör, The Making of Modern Turkey, pp. 59, 69, 105–6. For a discussion of Ottoman officials, see Kaiser, “Dall’impero alla repubblica,” pp. 89–113.   3 “Sükru Kaya Bey is a coarse but vigorous personality, and is by no means unintelligent. Not too well liked by other leading Turks, who regard him as a poseur. Is a hard drinker and an intimate counsellor of the Gazi.” TNA, FO 371/15376/E 649/649/44, Clerk to Henderson, Constantinople, 31 January 1931, no. 36, confidential; FO 371/12321/E 398/398/44, Clerk to Chamberlain, Constantinople, 18 January 1927, no. 27, confidential; FO 371/30161/R 8435/8435/44, Knatchbull-Huguessen to Eden, Angora, 22 July 1941, no. 243, confidential; BOA, BEO 4324-324255, Grand Vizierate to Ministry of the Interior, 2 December 1914, Important Affairs Dept. no. 2246; “Şükrü Kaya.” For a recent study of Shukru Bey’s activities following his return to Turkey, see Solak, Atatürk’ün Bakanı Şükrü Kaya. A balanced analysis of those years remains, however, a desideratum.   4 Andonian, Documents officiels concernant les massacres arméniens, pp. 27–9.   5 FO 371/6500-6501/132/3557, Rumbold to Curzon, Constantinople, 16 March 1921, N. 277/1983/24, no. 2738 Shukri Bey. The translation of the telegram dated 18 August 1915 read “Shukru Bey, director of the Refugees Department, has been detailed and sent by the ministry to deal with the regular deportation and to investigate and ensure that everything required for the purpose is in order. Please take any step which Shukri Bey may deem necessary on his arrival.”   6 Dadrian, “The Naim–Andonian Documents on the World War I Destruction of Ottoman Armenians,” pp. 331–2; Orel and Yuca, Ermenilerce Talât Paşa’a Atfedilen Telgrafların Gerçek Yüzu; Kévorkian, “Le sort des déportés dans les camps de concentration de Syrie et de Mésopotamie,” pp. 16–18.   7 Dündar, A Crime of Numbers, pp. 113–15. See also Dündar, Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi, pp. 324–7. Taner Akcam’s discussion of Shukru Bey’s mission depends largely on Dündar’s work: Akçam, The Young Turks’ Crime against Humanity, pp. 274–5.   8 Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 116–17, 121. See also Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies,” pp. 205–7.   9 Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies,” pp. 183–4. 10 By 15 May 1915, more than 7,000 Armenians had been deported from Zeitun subdistrict. As many as 3,000 still remained but were also to leave. The authorities at

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18

19

Marash expected that approximately 10,000 Muslim settlers would need assistance. BOA, DH.ŞFR. 471/25, Mumtaz to Ministry of the Interior, Marash, 15 May 1915, no. 3160. On the Zeitun deportations see Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies,” pp. 176–82. DH.ŞFR. 47/314, Ali Munif to Adrianople district, 3 December 1914, EUM Spec. 81; Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies,” pp. 185–6. On Hamid Bey’s time as governor of Diarbekir, see Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, pp. 129–39. DH.IUM.EK (hereafter: IUM).EK. 8/86, Aleppo CUP to CUP Central Committee, Aleppo, 19 April 1915, no. 4895. The telegram was passed on to Talat Bey on 21 April 1916. DH.ŞFR. 52/122, Talat to Hamid (at Konia), 26 April 1915, Spec. Dept. DH.ŞFR. 53/94, Ismail to Fourth Army Command, 23 May 1915, EUM. For an outline of the confiscation policy, see Kaiser, “Armenian Property, Ottoman Law, and Nationality Policies During the Armenian Genocide,” pp. 46–71. On improvised measures by the authorities in Erzerum province in May 1915, see Kaiser, “‘A Scene from the Inferno,’” pp. 152–6. DH.ŞFR. 54/106, Ali Munif to Erzerum, Bitlis, Diarbekir, Mosul, Zor, Aleppo, Adana, Bursa, Balikesir, Ismid, Caesarea provinces and districts, Aleppo–Marash Abandoned Property Commission, 22 June 1915, IAMM Gen. 315; 476/135, Hamid to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 23 June 1915, no. 25236. DH.EUM. İkinci Şube (hereafter: 2 ŞB) 8/12, Sahag II to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 15 June 1915, telegram 12296; NA, Record Group (hereafter: RG) 59, 867.4016/373, Jesse Jackson to Secretary of State, Washington, DC, 4 March 1918. Documents from the US National Archives utilized in this study have been published in Sarafian, United States Official Records on the Armenian Genocide 1915–1917; Shemmassian, “Humanitarian Intervention by the Armenian Prelacy of Aleppo during the First Months of the Genocide”; Odian, Accursed Years, p. 61; Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, pp. 192, 384–5. DH.ŞFR. 54/A-307, Ali Munif to Aleppo–Marash Abandoned Property Commission Presidency, 7 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 11; 54/A-308, Ali Munif to Hamid Bey, 7 August 1915, IAMM 10; 54/A-384, Talat to Adana, Aleppo provinces, Adana, Aleppo–Marash Commission Presidency, 11 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 48, 63, 13, 14; 54/A-389, Ali Munif to Aleppo province, Aleppo Commission Presidency, 13 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 16, 64; 55/140, Subhi to Aleppo, Syria, Mosul provinces, Urfa, Zor district, Aleppo Abandoned Property Commission, 21 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 69, 40, 69, 31, 31, 20; DH.ŞFR. 485/75, Hamid (Abandoned Property Commission) to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 25 August 1915, no. 44994/177; 485/118, Hamid to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 28 August 1915, no. 45955; 666/94, Ali Munif to Ministry of the Interior, 10 September 1915, no. 49508; 55/A-194, Subhi to Ali Munif (at Aleppo), 11 September 1915, Personnel Dept. no. 18266, 75; 55/A-172, Minister to Hamid Bey, 9 September 1915, EUM Gen. 5623; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 11/19, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 17 September 1915; AA-PA, Türkei 159–2/19, A 16891, [Sch.] to Rheinbaben, [Berlin?], 19 April 1918; Dadrian and Akçam, Tehcir ve Taktil, p. 241; Bekir Sami to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 5 October 1915, no. 452, in Orel and Yuca, Ermenilerce Talât Paşa’a Atfedilen Telgrafların Gerçek Yüzu, p. 56. For a short overview, see Kaiser, “Genocide at the Twilight of the Ottoman Empire.” DH.ŞFR. 666/63, Djemal to Talat, Ain Sofar, 5 August 1915, no. 13402/2072, secret, for the minister only; 483/107, Djemal to Talat, Ain Sofar (HQ), 12 August 1915, no.

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  221

20

21

22 23 24 25 26

27

13854/2296, for the minister only. On Ali Münif Bey’s exploits as governor of Lebanon, see Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 96–8. For a more negative assessment, see Kaiser, “The Armenians in Lebanon during the Armenian Genocide,” p. 52. DH.ŞFR. 486/81, Ali Munif to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 31 August 1915, no. 14509, urgent; 486/122, Ali Munif to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 2 September 1915, no. 13647, urgent; AA-PA, Constantinople 170, J. no. zu 4857, Mordtmann, Pera, 24 August 1915; NA RG 59, 867.4016/193, Nathan to Morgenthau, Mersina, 11 September 1915, no. 484, copy, enclosure in Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 21 September 1915, no. 479. In his memoirs, Ali Munif Bey claimed that, while visiting Adana, he became aware of an imminent threat posed by Armenians which could lead to a massacre. Accordingly, he had submitted a list of Armenians to be deported. In 1919, a court martial at Istanbul indicted Ali Munif Bey for his role in the Adana deportations. The prosecution assumed that he had acted on behalf of the CUP and without an assignment from the Interior Ministry. This was, however, incorrect. Yeğena, Ali Münif Bey’in Hâtıraları, p. 79. The identification of Ali Münif Bey as Ali Münif Çetinkaya is incorrect: see Akçam, The Young Turks’ Crime against Humanity, pp. 19, 379; Dadrian and Akçam, Tehcir ve Taktil, p. 483. DH.ŞFR. 666/63, Djemal to Talat, Ain Sofar, 5 August 1915, no. 13402/2072, secret, for the minister only; 483/63, Djemal to Talat, Ain Sofar, 8 August 1915, no. 13766/2246; 54/a-349, [Talat] to Djemal Pasha, 9 August 1915; 55/a-60, Talat to Ali Munif, 4 September 1915, Special Dept; DH. Kalem-i Mahsus Müdüriyeti 34/11, Ahmed Eyub to IAMM, Aleppo, 30 August 1915, IAMM, Statistical Dept., very urgent. DH.ŞFR. 488/80, Ali Munif to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 10 September 1915, no. 49545; 488/133, Ali Munif to Ministry of the Interior, Damascus, 13 September 1915, no. 70353. Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies,” p. 204. Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, p. 388. Beylerian, Les Grandes Puissances, l’Empire ottoman et les Arméniens dans les archives françaises, p. 29. On German diplomacy, see Kaiser, “Die deutsche Diplomatie und der armenische Völkermord.” DH.ŞFR. 55/290, Minister to Angora province, 29 August 1915, EUM; 55/292, Minister to Bursa, Angora, Konia, Ismid, Adana, Marash, Aleppo, Zor, Sivas, Kutahia, Balikesir, Nighde, Harput, Diarbekir, Afion, Erzerum, Caesarea provinces and districts, 29 August 1915, EUM. AA-PA, Constantinople 170, J. no. 5042, Göppert, Pera, 31 August 1915; J. no. 5118, Göppert, Pera, 2 September 1915; Hohenlohe to Bethmann-Hollweg, Pera, 4 September 1915, no. 549; J. no. zu 5118, Hohenlohe to Schulenburg, Büge, Rössler, Pera, 6 September 1915, no. 36, 37, 64; Constantinople 170, J. no. 5263, Büge to Embassy, Adana, 10 September 1915, telegram 22; J. no. zu 5263, Hohenlohe to BethmannHollweg, Pera, 14 September 1915, no. 565; Türkei 183/39, A 28578, Hohenlohe to Bethmann-Hollweg, Pera, 25 September 1915, no. 586. J. no. zu 5308, Hohenlohe to Rössler, Pera, 13 September 1915, telegram 68. Hohenlohe’s report did not, however, refer to Talat Bey as a “liar.” Akçam, The Young Turks’ Crime against Humanity, p. 380. For the original telegrams, see DH.ŞFR. 55/291, Minister to Konia province, 29 August 1915, EUM; 55/292, Minister to Bursa, Angora, Konia, Ismid, Adana, Marash, Aleppo, Zor, Sivas, Kutahia, Balikesir, Nighde, Harput, Diarbekir, Afion, Erzerum, Caesarea provinces and districts, 29 August 1915, EUM; 55/341, Minister to Ismid, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Afion, Bursa, Konia, Angora, Adana, Aleppo, 31 August 1915, EUM; Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, p. 390.

222  Hilmar Kaiser 28 DH.ŞFR. 54/A-392, Ali Munif to Erzerum, Adana, Angora, Bitlis, Aleppo, Bursa, Diarbekir, Sivas, Trebizond, Harput, Mosul, Van provinces, Urfa, Ismid, Samsun, Zor, Balikesir, Caesarea, Afion, Marash, Eskishehir, Nighde districts, Adana, Erzerum, Aleppo, Samsun, Sivas, Harput, Diarbekir, Ismid Abandoned Property Commissions, 13 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 455; 55/15, Ali Munif to Eskishehir district, Konia and Adana provinces, 14 August 1915, IAMM, Statistical Dept. 11, 49, 49; 484/18, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 15 August 1915, no. 19164; 55/70, Shukru to Ismid district, Tuesday, 17 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 56; 484/67, Deputy Governor Nazim to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 18 August 1915, no. 20562; 55/108, Subhi to Adana province, 19 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 51; 55/186, Subhi to Angora, Konia provinces, 24 August 1915, İdâre-i Umumiye Dahiliye Müduriyeti (hereafter: IUDM) Spec. 59, 30; 55-139, Shukru to Angora, Bursa, Ismid, Eskishehir, Nighde, Afion, Balikesir provinces and districts, Aug. 21, 1915, IAMM 57, 98, 61, 17, 8, 10, 77; 55/140, Subhi to Aleppo, Syria, Mosul provinces, Urfa, Zor districts, Aleppo Abandoned Property Commission, 21 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 69, 40, 69, 31, 31, 20; 55/208, Minister to Erzerum, Adana, Angora, Bitlis, Aleppo, Bursa, Diarbekir, Sivas, Trebizond, Konia, Harput provinces, Ismid, Samsun, Balikesir, Afion, Caesarea, Marash, Nighde, Kutahia districts, 25 August 1915, EUM Spec. 5260; 55/256, Talat to Erzerum, Adana, Angora, Bitlis, Aleppo, Bursa, Diarbekir, Sivas, Trebizond, Kastamonu, Harput, Van provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Samsun, Balikesir, Caesarea, Marash, Kutahia districts, 25 August 1915, EUM Spec. 492; 55/279, Minister to Konia province, Ismid, Kutahia, Eskishehir, Afion districts, 28 August 1915, EUM 64, 68, 9, 19, 11; 485/111, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 28 August 1915, no. 19754, extremely urgent; 485/113, Mazhar to Ministry of the Interior, Ismid, 28 August 1915, no. 16785, urgent; 486/24, Shevket to Ministry of the Interior, Afion, 28/29 August 1915, no. 13404, very urgent; 485/107, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, 28 August 1915, no. 22393/371, very urgent. 29 See, for instance, DH.ŞFR. 54/A-307; 54/A-384. For orders signed by Shukru Bey, see 55/139, Shukru to Angora, Bursa provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Nighde, Afion, Balikesir districts, 21 August 1915, IAMM 57, 98, 61, 17, 8, 10, 77; 55/184, Shukru to Adana, Erzerum, Angora, Bitlis, Aleppo, Diarbekir, Bursa, Sivas, Trebizond, Harput, Konia provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Urfa, Samsun, Balikesir, Caesarea, Nighde, Marash districts, Adana, Aleppo, Sivas, Harput, Diarbekir, Samsun, Ismid, Balikesir Abandoned Property Commissions, 24 August 1915, IAMM Statistical Dept. 475; DH.IUM.EK. 8/57, Shukru to IUM, 12 June 1915, IAMM Spec. 191, secret; Shukru to IUM, 12 June 1915, IAMM Spec. 193, secret; Shukru to IUM, 7 July 1915, IAMM. 30 DH.ŞFR. 55/A-16, Talat to Konia, Angora, Bursa, Adana, Aleppo provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Afion, Marash districts, 31 August 1915, EUM 71, 72, 117, 60, 72, 74, 24, 12, 13, 36; 55/A-17, Subhi to Konia, Adana, Aleppo, Syria, Angora provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir districts, 1 September 1915, IAMM 69, 57, 71, 43, 69, 73, 23; 55/A-36, Minister to Eskishehir district, 1 September 1915, EUM Gen. 5445; HHStA, PA XII 209, Pallavicini to Burián, Jeniköj, 8 September 1915, no. 73/P.A. The AustroHungarian documents utilized in this study have been published in Ohandjanian, Österreich–Armenien 1872–1936. 31 Originally, the Ministry of the Interior had called Muhtar Bey from Angora province to investigate abuses connected with the sale of Armenian property which had taken place during the deportations of the local Armenian population. DH.ŞFR. 55/344, Minister to Muhtar, 31 August 1915, EUM Spec. 5397, secret, urgent; 486/138, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir station, 2 September 1915, no. 2540; 486/139,

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  223

32

33

34

35

36

37

Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir station, 2 September 1915, no. 2535, urgent; 486/140, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir station, 2/3 September 1915, no. 2541; 488/54, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 9/10 September 1915, no. 15215; 56/355, Talat to Hulusi Bey (at Ismid), 11 October 1915, EUM Spec. 88; 494/50, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 22 October 1915, no. 23616. For discussion of railway deportations and the actions of the railway companies, see Kaiser, “The Baghdad Railway and the Armenian Genocide, 1915–1916.” German Pastor Strahl of the Lutheran church at Eskishehir reported that about 200 deportees had been buried in the Armenian cemetery. Local conditions, however, were still favorable in comparison with other places. NA, RG 59, 867.4016/188, Post to Morgenthau, Konia, 3 September 1915, copy, enclosure in Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 15 September 1915, no. 466; 867.4016/189, Dodd to Morgenthau, Konia, 8 September 1915, copy, enclosure in Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 16 September 1915, no. 469; AA-PA, Constantinople 97, J. no. 8308, Strahl to Embassy, Eskishehir, 27 September 1915, J. no. 408/15. DH.ŞFR. 487/14, Abdulahad Nuri to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir railway station, 3 September 1915, no. 2547; 55/A-75, Talat to Eskishehir district, 5 September 1915, EUM Spec. 27; 487/101, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 6 September 1915, no. 20442; 487/133, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 7 September 1915, no. 20380; 487/134, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 7 September 1915, no. 20359; 488/56, Abdulahad Nuri to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 9 September 1915, no. 20453/2; 488/96, Abdulahad Nuri to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 10 September 1915, no. 2050; 488/97, Abdulahad Nuri to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 11 September 1915, no. 20523; 488/121, Abdulahad Nuri to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 12 September 1915, no. 20581; 488/140, Abdulahad Nuri to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 13 September 1915, no. 20649; 489/56, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 17 September 1915, no. 2187; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 11-21, Muhtar to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 17 September 1915, no. 2741; DH.ŞFR. 489/88, Refet to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir, 18 September 1915. DH.ŞFR. 487/68, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 5 September 1915, no. 23636; 55/A-178, Minister to Kutahia district, 9 September 1915, EUM Spec. 5624; 488/54, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 9/10 September 1915, no. 15215; 490/2, Muhtar to Ministry of the Interior, Kutahia, 20/21 September 1915, no. 8542/25; 490/59, Muhtar to Ministry of the Interior, Kutahia, 22 September 1915, no. 8581/27; 56/186, Talat to Muhtar, 26 September 1915, EUM Spec. 139. For information on Faik Ali [Ozansoy], see Çitçi, “Bir Devlet Adam Olarak Fâik Âli Ozansoy.” DH.ŞFR. 486/134, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 2 September 1915, no. 23332/294; 487/16, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Ereghli, 3 September 1915, no. 3566; 55/A-41, Minister to Konia province, 3 September 1915, EUM [?]; 55/A-47, Minister to Konia province, 4 September 1915, EUM Spec. 72; 487/67, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Karaman, 5 September 1915, no. 1918; 55/A-72, Minister to Shukru Bey at Konia, 5 September 1915, EUM Spec. 74; 487/112, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Tshumra, 6 September 1915, no. 562. DH.ŞFR. 487/68, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 5 September 1915, no. 23636; 487/89, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, 6 September 1915, Ereghli, no. 5390, urgent; 55/A-102, Minister to Shukru Bey at Ereghli, 6 September 1915, EUM; Djelal Bey, “Ermeni Vekayii ve Esbab ve Tesiratı.” Security in Konia province was also in decline. Villagers and gendarmes attacked Armenians who had been detained in their area. While Djelal Bey took counter-measures,

224  Hilmar Kaiser the situation did not improve much. Djelal Bey, “Ermeni Vekayii ve Esbab ve Tesiratı”; NA, RG 59, 867.4016/188, Post to Morgenthau, Konia, 3 September 1915, copy, enclosure in Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 15 September 1915, no. 466; 867.4016/189, Dodd to Morgenthau, Konia, 8 September 1915, copy, enclosure in Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 16 September 1915, no. 469; AA-PA, Constantinople 170, J. no. 4857, Seeger, Biegel, Janson, Maurer to Embassy, Konia, 16 August 1915, enclosure in Günther to Neurath, Constantinople, 21 August 1915, J. no. - ; J. no. zu 4857, Mordtmann, Pera, 24 August 1915; DH.ŞFR. 487/132, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 7 September 1915, no. 23974/400; 488/54, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 9/10 September 1915, no. 15215; 489/65, Hadji Nuri to Ministry of the Interior, Nighde, 17 September 1915, no. 13326; 56/64, Minister to Konia province, 18 September 1915, EUM Gen. 5799, secret; HHStA, PA XXXVIII 368, Julius Neumann to Consulate-General, Smyrna, n.d., copy, enclosure in Acting Consul to Burián, Smyrna, 9 October 1915 no. 68/P; William S. Dodd, “Report on conditions witnessed in the Armenian deportations in Konia, Turkey,” Montclair, New Jersey, 21 December 1917, copy, enclosure in Barton, Turkish Atrocities, pp. 145–50; Wilfred Post, “Extracts from the annual report of the American hospital at Konia, Turkey, for the year 1917, with additional notes on the treatment of British prisoners in Konia,” Lawrenceville, NJ., 11 April 1918, copy, in Barton, Turkish Atrocities, pp. 154–7; Kévorkian, Le Génocide des arméniens, pp. 712, 719; Odian, Accursed Years, p. 57. 38 DH.ŞFR. 487/124, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, 6/7 September 1915, Pozanti, no. 5098; 487/126, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, 6/7 September 1915, Pozanti, no. 5096; 488/22, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 8 September 1915, no. 24141/406; 55/A-161, Minister to Konia province, 8 September 1915, EUM Gen. 5602; 55/A-179, Minister to Konia province, 9 September 1915, EUM Spec. 5622; 488/47, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 9 September 1915, no. 24294/408; 488/54, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 9/10 September 1915, no. 15215; 488/138, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 13 September 1915, no. 24944/418; 488/144, Shevket to Ministry of the Interior, Afion, 14 September 1915, no. 14695/48; 56/52, Minister to Angora, Konia, Adana, Aleppo, Syria provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Afion districts, 16 September 1915, EUM Spec. 5748; NA, RG 59, 867.4016/189, Dodd to Morgenthau, Konia, 8 September 1915, copy, enclosure in Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 16 September 1915, no. 469; Odian, Accursed Years, p. 65. For information on Sub-District Governor Hasan Faiz [Ergun], see Çankaya, Yeni Mülkiye Târihi ve Mülkiyeliler, p. 1196. 39 DH.ŞFR. 487/125, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, 6/7 September 1915, Pozanti, no. 5097, urgent; 55/A-156-157, Minister to Nighde district, 8 September 1915, Directorate of Inquiry Commission 5604; 489/7, Nazim to Ministry of the Interior, Ulukishla, 13 September 1915, no. 6157/5; 489/108, Nazim to Ministry of the Interior, Nighde, 19 September 1915, no. 14363/209; 56/214, Talat to Nighde district, 28 September 1915, EUM Spec. 13; 491/55, Nazim to Ministry of the Interior, Nighde, 29 September 1915, no. 15088/128; 58/137, Subhi to Hulusi, 27 November 1915, EUM Spec. 63; 58/139, Subhi to Nighde district, 27 November 1915, EUM Spec. 27. For information on SubDistrict Governor Ahmed Rifat, see Çankaya, Yeni Mülkiye Târihi ve Mülkiyeliler, p. 1036. 40 DH.ŞFR. 55/A-71, Minister to Shukru Bey, 5 September 1915, EUM Spec. 75; 55/ A-153, Minister to Shukru Bey at Tarsus, 8 September 1915, EUM; 488/54, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 9/10 September 1915, no. 15215.

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  225 41 DH.ŞFR. 488/54, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 9/10 September 1915, no. 15215; 55/A-223, Talat to Adana province, 12 September 1915, EUM Spec. 65; 56/32, Minister to Eshref Bey, 15 September 1915, EUM. 42 FO 371-9158/E5523/E5523, IAMM Director, 10 September 1915, enclosure in Henderson to Oliphant, Constantinople, 22 May 1923; DH.ŞFR. 488/126, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 12 September 1915, no. 15391. 43 DH.ŞFR. 488/125, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 12 September 1915, no. 15392; 489/116, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, 19 September 1915, no. 25718/439; 489/117, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, 19 September 1915, no. 25813; 490/1, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 20 September 1915, no. 25862/445; 56/85, Minister to Shukru, 20 September 1915, EUM Gen. 5854; 56/89, Talat to Bursa, Konia, Adana provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Afion districts, 20 September 1915, EUM Spec. 140, 88, 68, 84, 31, 14, 14; 490/61, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 22 September 1915, no. 53189, very urgent; 56/112, Talat to Konia province, 22 September 1915, EUM Spec. 5872; 492/13, Djelal to Ministry of the Interior, 3 October 1915, no. 30276/504; 57/95, Talat to Konia province, 24 October 1915, EUM Spec. 118; Dadrian and Akçam, Tehcir ve Taktil, p. 421. 44 Surprisingly, the Ministry of the Interior’s orders did not include the independent Marash district, although they did address Aintab district, which was under the authority of Aleppo province. It is possible that this was due to a clerical error while the telegram was being drafted. DH.ŞFR. 55/A-240, Talat to Aleppo province, 13 September 1915, EUM Spec. 76; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 11/19, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 17 September 1915; DH.ŞFR. 56/65, Minister to Djemal Pasha, 18 September 1915, EUM Spec. 81; 56/69, Minister to Mosul and Syria provinces, Urfa, Zor and Aintab districts, 18 September 1915, EUM 77, 50, 35, 38, 79. Hamid Bey had been ordered to meet with Shukru Bey: DH.ŞFR. 55/A-172, Minister to Hamid Bey, 9 September 1915, EUM Gen. 5623. 45 DH.ŞFR. 490/62, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 22 September 1915, no. 53228, urgent; Dadrian, To the Desert, pp. 51–8. On conditions at Katma, see also Kaiser et al., At the Crossroads of Der Zor, pp. 19–14. 46 The authorities had stopped deportations from Katma by 19 September 1915 at the latest. When Vahram Dadrian’s family arrived at Katma, officials told them that they could stay there for as long as they wanted. DH.ŞFR. 490/95, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 25 September 1915, no. 53975; 491/24, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 28 September 1915, no. 55111; 56/232, Talat to Shukru, 29 September 1915, EUM Spec. 48; 56/235, Talat to Shukru, 30 September 1915, EUM Spec. 85; 56/256, Talat to Shukru Bey (at Aleppo), 2 October 1915, EUM Spec. 86; 492/129, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 10 October 1915, no. 58782; 57/149, Talat to Shukru, 26 October 1915, EUM Spec. 117; 495/12, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 28 October 1915, no. 11089; Dadrian, To the Desert, p. 51. The reasons for Talat Bey’s canceling the railway staff’s deportations are discussed in Kaiser, “The Baghdad Railway and the Armenian Genocide, 1915–1916,” pp. 79–83. 47 So far I have been unable to locate the full text of these regulations, which had been mailed to the above-mentioned authorities. Shukru Bey summarized the most important paragraphs in a telegram to the Ministry of the Interior and asked for his superiors’ consent. Interestingly, the new manual appeared not to include Der Zor district. DH.ŞFR. 490/96, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 25 September 1915, no. 54407. 48 DH.ŞFR. 490/110, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 25 September 1915, no. 55148; 56/160, Minister to Mosul province, 25 September 1915, EUM, Spec.

226  Hilmar Kaiser

49 50

51

52 53 54

55 56

57

5941; 56/166, Minister to Urfa district, 26 September 1915, EUM Spec. 5963; 56/168, Minister to Harput province, 26 September 1915, EUM Spec. 5964; 56/180, Minister to Diarbekir province, 26 September 1915, EUM Spec. 5970; 56/274, Talat to Konia and Adana provinces, Nighde district, Shukru, 4 October 1915, EUM Spec. 98, 77, 15, 90; 56/308 Minister to Sivas, Diarbekir, Harput provinces, Caesarea district, 6 October 1915, EUM Spec. 111, 85, 83, 59; Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, pp. 263–6. AA-PA, Constantinople 170, J. no. 5779, Rössler to Hohenlohe, Aleppo, 27 September 1915, B. no. 2130. BOA, Meclis-i Vükela Mazbataları 241/153, 3 October 1915, no. 254; DH.ŞFR. 56/120, Talat to Djemal, 22 September 1915, EUM; 490/83, Djemal to Talat, Jerusalem (HQ), 24 September 1915, no. 17141, for the minister only; Dadrian, To the Desert, p. 82. Djemal Pasha supported the appointment of Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey. DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 11/45, Kemal to Ministry of the Interior, 25 September 1915; DH.ŞFR. 56/173, Talat to Zor and Urfa districts, 26 September 1915, EUM Spec. 39, 36; 56/183, Minister to Aleppo province, 26 September 1915, EUM; DH.EUM. 2 SB 11/57, Suad to Ministry of the Interior, Zor, 29 September 1915, no. 5318; DH.ŞFR. 493/56, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 13 October 1915, no. 59869; 493/61, Djemal Pasha to Talat, Jerusalem, 13 October 1915, no. 19142/5109, for the minister only. DH.ŞFR. 492/90, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 8 October 1915, no. 67306, very urgent. DH.EUM.Evrak Odası Kalemi Evrakı, 15/71, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 8 October 1915. DH.ŞFR. 496/81, Kemal to Ministry of the Interior, Marash, 8 November 1915, no. 13095; 57/390, Talat to Shukru, 11 November 1915, EUM Spec. 141; 497/44, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 13 November 1915, no. 67937; 498/10, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Damascus, 18 November 1915, no. 97274. For information on District Governor Ismail Kemal [Alpsar], see Çankaya, Yeni Mülkiye Târihi ve Mülkiyeliler, pp. 587–8. DH.ŞFR. 56/385, Talat to Shukru Bey, 13 October 1915 EUM Spec. 97; 493/56, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 13 October 1915, no. 59869; 57/12, Subhi to Aleppo province, 14 October 1915, Personnel Dept. Gen. 18895, Spec. 98. DH.ŞFR. 493/29, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 12 October 1915, no. 59287; 493/31, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 12 October 1915, no. 59198, urgent; 666/111, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, 13 October 1915, no. 59870; 493/83, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, 14 October 1915, no. 59818; 57/50, Talat to Shukru, 17 October 1915, EUM Spec. 107; 494/33, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 22 October 1915, no. 61562; 57/120, Minister to Shukru, 25 October 1915, EUM Spec. 112; 57/125, Ali (IAMM deputy director) to Shukru, 26 October 1915, IAMM 921; 494/109, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 25 October 1915, no. 72264. Vice-Consul Hoffmann in Alexandretta was in charge of the Aleppo consulate during Consul Rössler’s absence between 3 October 1915 and 22 October 1915. AA-PA, Rep. IV, Personalia no. 137, vol. 1; Aleppo, Pkt. 2 Bd. 3, J. no. 2298 Sekr., Hoffmann to Embassy, Aleppo, 18 October 1915, telegram 125, urgent; J. no. 2296 Sekr., Hoffmann to Embassy, Aleppo, 19 October 1915, telegram 126, urgent; DH.ŞFR. 493/153, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 17 October 1915, no. 60881; 493/154, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 17 October 1915, no. 60882; 57/49, Talat to Shukru Bey, 17 October 1915, EUM Spec. 102; 57/53, Talat to Aleppo province, 17 October 1915,

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  227

58

59

60 61 62

63

EUM Spec. 105; 57/54, Talat to Shukru, 18 October 1915, EUM Spec. 109; 57/87, Talat to Shukru, 23 October 1915, EUM Spec. 108; 494/124, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 26 October 1915, no. 9949/419; 57/198, Talat to Aleppo province, 31 October 1915, EUM Spec. 124; 496/17, Acting Governor Halid to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 4 November 1915, no. 65437; 57/401, Talat to Aleppo province, 13 November 1915, EUM Spec. 142; 58/15, Talat to Aleppo province, 15 November 1915, EUM Spec. 145. Consul Loytved-Hardegg cabled that experts had estimated that only 12,000 deportees could be settled in the entire province. This number appears to be too low. There had been difficulties at the embassy in decoding the telegram, and the figure of 12,000 was marked accordingly. Austro-Hungarian Consul-General Ranzi reported in February 1916 that the authorities planned to settle 120,000 Armenians in the province. Thus, it appears that Loytved-Hardegg’s telegram was incorrectly decoded and that Ranzi’s report gave the correct number. AA-PA, Constantinople 170, J. no. 4958, LoytvedHardegg to Embassy, Damascus, 26 August 1915, telegram 35; Constantinople 171, J. no. 5989, Hoffmann to Embassy, Aleppo, 18 October 1915, telegram 123; J. no. 5990, Hoffmann to Embassy, Aleppo, 18 October 1915, telegram 124; Türkei 183/41, A 2889, Hoffmann to Embassy, Alexandretta, 8 November 1915, no. 944, enclosure in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 10, enclosure in Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, 28 January 1916, no. 41; NA, RG 59, 867.4016/219, Jackson to Morgenthau, Aleppo, 29 September 1915, no. 382, enclosure in Morgenthau to Secretary of State, Constantinople, 1 November 1915, no. 579; HHStA, PA XII 463, Ranzi to Burián, Damascus, 15 February 1916, no. 4/P. AA-PA, Constantinople 97, J. no. 9274, Niepage, Huber, Graeter, Spieker to BethmannHollweg, Aleppo, 15 October 1915, enclosure in Hoffmann to Embassy, Aleppo, 19 October 1915, no. 2385; AA-PA, Türkei 183/41, A 2889, Hoffmann to Embassy, Alexandretta, 8 November 1915, no. 944, enclosure in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 10, enclosure in Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, 28 January 1916, no. 41; Germany, Fliedner-Kulturstiftung, Archiv, Düsseldorf, Auslandsstationen, Archiv II, Äussere Mission, Karton 223, Deutsche Schule Aleppo 1913–1918 (hereafter: Fliedner Archiv), Lina Weinkauff to Pastor, Aleppo, 5 November 1915. AA-PA, Türkei 183/41, A 2889, Hoffmann to Embassy, Alexandretta, 8 November 1915, no. 944, enclosure in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 10, enclosure in Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, 28 January 1916, no. 41. DH.ŞFR. 493/62, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem (HQ), 13 October 1915, no. 19180/5126; AA-PA, Constantinople 170, J. no. 5779, Rössler to Hohenlohe, Aleppo, 27 September 1915, B. no. 2130. DH.ŞFR. 493/30, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 12 October 1915, no. 50288; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB. 12/38, Sahag II to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 15 October 1915, no. 30503; DH.ŞFR. 494/6, Djemal to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem (HQ), 18 October 1915, no. 19620/310; 57/108, Talat to Aleppo province, 24 October 1915, EUM Spec. 110; 495/10, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 28 October 1915, no. 11059; 57/265, Minister to Djemal Pasha, 3 November 1915, EUM Spec. 104; 496/25, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo (HQ), 5 November 1915, no. 21159/212; 57–325, Talat to Aleppo province, 7 November 1915, EUM Spec. 132; 57/326, Talat to Ismail, Shukru, 7 November 1915, EUM Spec. 134, 133. For an Armenian eyewitness report on the clerics at Membidj, see Donelian, “Mounboudj.” DH.ŞFR. 493/119, Djemal to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem (HQ), 16 October 1915, no. 19500/5251; 57/80, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 23 October 1915, EUM Spec. 93; 494/89, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 24 October 1915, no.

228  Hilmar Kaiser 25161; 57/130, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 26 October 1915, EUM Spec. 95; 57/135, Talat to Bursa, Angora, Aleppo, Adana provinces, Marash, Afion, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Ismid, Nighde districts, 27 October 1915, EUM Spec. 148, 100, 118, 90, 85, 35, 41, 23, 96, 17; 495/45, Djemal to Ministry of the Interior, Jerusalem (HQ), 30 October 1915, no. 25746/135; 496/20, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo (HQ), 5 November 1915, no. 21162; 496/24, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo (HQ), 5 November 1915, no. 21150; 57/317, Talat to Adana, Aleppo provinces, Urfa district, 6 November 1915, EUM Spec. 97, 130, 50; Djemal Pasha to Aleppo Military Supply Inspectorate, Aleppo province, Aleppo IAMM, Fourth Army Military Supply Inspectorate, 28 October 1915, in Türkiye Cumhuriyeti, Genelkurmay Başkanlığı, Arşiv Belgeleriyle Ermeni Faaliyetleri 1914–1918, p. 19. 64 The German navy officer Oskar Engelking confirmed Kress’s observations. He had visited Aleppo and seen the abject misery of the Armenians and evidence of atrocities along the deportation routes. Germany, Bundes-Archiv, Abteilungen Freiburg, Reichsmarine 40–434, “Observations concerning the Armenians made during my journey from Baghdad to Constantinople, October 1915,” Engelking to Fleet, Constantinople, 11 November 1915, Kommando der Flotte G. B. N. 8289; CZA, Z 3 – Zionistisches Zentralbureau Berlin 1911–1920, 66, Dr. Krieger, “Zur Armenierverfolgung: Augenzeugender Bericht im Sommer und Herbst 1915 und Frühjahr 1916/17”; Germany, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nürnberg, Kress Archiv, Abt. d, Reihe D, II. Akten, A, no. 166, Friedrich Kress Von Kressenstein, Diary, vol. 7 (copy) (hereafter: Kress Archiv), Mamure, 8 October 1915; Aleppo, 10 October 1915; Damascus, 12 October 1915; Jerusalem, 1 November 1915; Aleppo, 5 November 1915; Aleppo, 10 November 1915; Fliedner Archiv, Lina Weinkauff to Pastor, Aleppo, 5 November 1915; AA-PA, Constantinople 170, J. no. 5779, Rössler to Hohenlohe, Aleppo, 27 September 1915, B. no. 2130; Aleppo Pkt. 2 Bd. 3, J. no. 2476 Sekr., Rössler to Embassy, Aleppo, 6 November 1915, telegram 155; Constantinople 409, J. no. 9462, Rössler to Embassy, Aleppo, 5 November 1915, telegram 157; Türkei 183/40, A 35045, Rössler to Bethmann-Hollweg, Aleppo, 8 November 1915, K. no. 103, B. no. 2511; Aleppo Pkt. 2 Bd. 3, J. no. 2563 Sekr., Rössler to Embassy, Aleppo, 15 November 1915, telegram 165; Constantinople 409, J. no. 9986, Rössler to Embassy, Aleppo, 15 November 1916, telegram 166; DH.ŞFR. 496/89, Djemal Pasha to Talat, Aleppo (HQ), 9 November 1915, no. 211421, personally decode; 57/361, Subhi to Djemal Pasha at Aleppo, 10 November 1915, IUDM Gen. 3676, Spec. 106; Djemal Pasha to Aleppo Supply Inspectorate, 22 October 1915, telegram 5418; Aleppo Supply Inspectorate to IAMM commission, Aleppo, 1 November 1915, no. 3106; Eyub Bey to Aleppo Supply Inspectorate, Aleppo, 15 November 1915, no. 814; [Djemal Pasha], Army Order [Aleppo, 5 November 1915], in Türkiye Cumhuriyeti, Genelkurmay Başkanlığı, Arşiv Belgeleriyle Ermeni Faaliyetleri 1914–1918, pp. 15–16, 21–3; Ahmet Tetik, “4’üncu Ordu Komutanlığı’nin Bölgesinde Salgın Hastalıklarla Mücadele ve İnsani Yardım Çalışmalari,” p. 90; Ali Fuat Erden, Birinci Dünya Harbinde Suriye Hâtıraları, pp. 122–3; Kressenstein, Mit den Türken zum Suezkanal, p. 133. Boghossian was one of the Armenian community leaders arrested by Ottoman authorities on 24 April 1915 and deported first to Chankiri and later to Aleppo. On his way to Aleppo he had assisted other deportees, and once in the city he used his official position to participate in the rescue of Armenian intellectuals. Although he could have returned to Constantinople, he remained in Aleppo. Odian, Accursed Years, pp. 77, 103–4. 65 DH.ŞFR. 57/51, Talat to Shukru Bey, 17 October 1915, EUM Spec. 104; 57/71, Talat to Syria province, 17 October 1915, EUM Spec. 54; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 13/9, Shukru to

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  229 Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 21 October 1915, telegram 61654; DH.ŞFR. 57/110, Talat to Shukru, 26 October 1915, EUM Spec. 116; 494/135, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 27 October 1915, no. 11036. On the famine, see also Çiçek, War and State Formation in Syria, pp. 233–45. 66 The funds from Bursa did not arrive in time to prevent another financial crisis at Aleppo within the next two weeks. By then, in addition to the funds expected from Urfa, Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey needed 15,000 liras urgently. Between 60,000 and 80,000 Armenian deportees were in transit, and funds needed to be transferred in coin as paper money was not accepted as payment. DH.ŞFR. 57/342, Subhi to Aleppo Abandoned Property Commission, 8 November 1915, IAMM 1266; 57/348, Subhi to Shukru, 8 November 1915, IAMM 1263/138; 57/349, Subhi to Aleppo Acting Governor, 8 November 1915, IAMM 1264/137; 57/350, Subhi to Eskishehir district, 9 November 1915, IAMM 1265/46; 58/24, Talat to Aleppo province, 16 November 1915, IAMM 747; 58/37, Talat to Bursa Abandoned Property Commission, 16 November 1915, IAMM 1444, Spec. 72; 499/51, Mustafa Abdulhalik to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 29 November 1915, no. 72253/450; 500/15, Mustafa Abdulhalik to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 4 December 1915, no. 73490/549; 501/94, Mustafa Abdulhalik to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 16 December 1915, no. 76518/587; 500/15, Mustafa Abdulhalik to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 4 December 1915, no. 73490/549; 501/94, Mustafa Abdulhalik to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 16 December 1915, no. 76518/587. 67 DH.ŞFR. 494/48, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 21 October 1915, no. 61706, very urgent; 494/138, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 28 October 1915, no. 11038. The Ministry of the Interior forwarded the request to the Ministry of War: Subhi to Ministry of War, 25 October 1915, EUM no. 98, secret; Djemal Pasha to Ministry of War [Aleppo], 6 November 1915, in Türkiye Cumhuriyeti, Genelkurmay Başkanlığı, Arşiv Belgeleriyle Ermeni Faaliyetleri 1914–1918, pp. 18, 24. 68 AA-PA, Constantinople 172, J. no. 283, Künzler to Rössler, Urfa, 5 December 1915, copy, enclosure 1 in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 16, K. no. 2; United States, Armenian Assembly of America, Krieger collection, 66, Jean-Baptiste de Rebours, “Rapport sur les massacres des Arméniens à Ourfa,” Alexandria, n.d. [1919?]; Armen Anush, Passage through Hell, pp. 6–11; Glockler, Interned in Turkey 1914–1918, p. 49. 69 DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 13/9, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 24 October 1915, telegram 62091; DH.ŞFR. 493/134, Haidar to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 16 October 1915, no. 9148; 495/11, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 28 October 1915, no. 11089; 495/13, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 28 October 1915, no. 1109[0?], very urgent; 495/16, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 28 October 1915, no. 11062; 495/32, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 29 October 1915, no. 11199; 495/34, Haidar to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 30/31 October 1915, no. 11195, urgent; 57/228, Talat to Shukru Bey, 1 November 1915, EUM Gen. 46; Eberhard Wolffskeel Von Reichenberg to Sofie Wolffskeel Von Reichenberg, Urfa, 10 October 1915, 12–16 October 1915, 19 October 1915, in Wolffskeel Von Reichenberg, Zeitoun, Mousa Dagh, Ourfa, pp. 20–29. For problems concerning the deportation of Armenians from Urfa in the direction of Diarbekir province, see Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, pp. 265–6. 70 DH.ŞFR. 494/81, Haidar to Ministry of the Interior, Urfa, 24 October 1915, no. 9826/7607; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 13/30, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Harran, 1 November 1915, no. 1462; DH.ŞFR. 495/72, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Harran,

230  Hilmar Kaiser

71

72 73

74

75

1–2 November 1915, no. 1463; 495/88, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Harran, 2 November 1915, no. 1486, urgent; 57/269, Minister to Shukru (at Harran), 3 November 1915, Personnel Dept. 48; 57/309, Talat to Urfa district, 5 November 1915, EUM Spec. 51; 496/52, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 7 November 1915, no. 66225; 57/336, Minister to Shukru, 8 November 1915, Personnel Dept. 135. AA-PA, Türkei 183/41, A 2889, Flechsig, Aleppo, 20 October 1915, enclosure in Hoffmann to Embassy, Alexandretta, 8 November 1915, no. 944, enclosure in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 10, enclosure in Metternich to BethmannHollweg, 28 January 1916, no. 41; Constantinople 172, J. no. 283, Bastendorff to Rössler, Aleppo, 18 December 1915, copy, enclosure 2 in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 16, K. no. 2. For the experiences of a young Armenian boy who had been among those who were returned from Rakka to Tell Abiad, see Anush, Passage through Hell. AA-PA, Türkei 183/40, A 35047, A German, “The march of Armenians to Der Zor,” Aleppo, 11 November 1915, enclosure in Rössler to Bethmann-Hollweg, Aleppo, 16 November 1915, K. no. 109, B. no. 2078. AA-PA, Türkei 183/40, A 35045, Rössler to Bethmann-Hollweg, Aleppo, 8 November 1915, K. no. 103, B. no. 2511; Türkei 183/41, A 2889, Hoffmann to Embassy, Alexandretta, 8 November 1915, no. 944, enclosure in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 10, enclosure in Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, 28 January 1916, no. 41; Türkei 183/40, A 35045, Rössler to Bethmann-Hollweg, Aleppo, 8 November 1915, K. no. 103, B. no. 2511. AA-PA, Türkei 183/41, A 2889, Hoffmann to Embassy, Alexandretta, 8 November 1915, no. 944, enclosure in Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 10, enclosure in Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, 28 January 1916, no. 41; HHStA, PA XII 463, Ranzi to Burián, Damascus, 7 November 1915, no. 75/P. Dadrian, To the Desert, pp. 86–7. DH.ŞFR. 57/115, Subhi to Bolu district, 25 October 1915, EUM Spec. 45; 57/131, Subhi to Angora Abandoned Property Administration Commission Presidency, 24 October 1915, IAMM 64; 57/135, Talat to Bursa, Angora, Aleppo, Adana provinces, Marash, Afion, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Ismid, Nighde districts, 27 October 1915, EUM Spec. 148, 100, 118, 90, 85, 35, 41, 23, 96, 17; 57/142, Talat to Konia province, 27 October 1915, EUM Spec. 121; 57/177, Talat to Adrianople province, 28 October 1915, EUM Spec. 118; 57/179, Subhi to Adana, Erzerum, Angora, Bitlis, Aleppo, Marash, Bursa, Diarbekir, Sivas, Trebizond, Harput, Konia, Ismid, Eskishehir, Nighde, Caesarea, Afion Abandoned Property Administration Commissions, 27 October 1915, IAMM 639; 57/180, Subhi to Adana, Erzerum, Angora, Bitlis, Aleppo, Bursa, Diarbekir, Sivas, Trebizond, Harput, Konia provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Nighde, Caesarea, Afion, Marash districts, 27 October 1915, IAMM Gen. 638; 57/182, Minister to Marash district, 28 October 1915, EUM Gen. 6218; 57/220, Talat to Adrianople province, 1 November 1915, EUM Spec. 125; 57/273, Talat to Adrianople province, 3 November 1915, EUM Spec. 132; 57/281, Talat to Erzerum, Adana, Angora, Aidin, Bitlis, Aleppo, Bursa, Diarbekir, Sivas, Trebizond, Konia, Harput, Mosul, Van provinces, Urfa, Ismid, Samsun, Zor, Balikesir, Kala Sultanie, Caesarea, Afion, Nighde, Marash, Eskishehir, Kutahia districts, 4 November 1915, EUM Spec. 6270, secret; 57/282, Talat to Adana, Angora, Bitlis, Aleppo, Bursa, Diarbekir, Syria, Sivas, Konia, Harput, Mosul provinces, Urfa, Ismid, Balikesir, Kala Sultanie, Nighde, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Afion, Marash, Zor districts, 5 November 1915, EUM Spec. 6284; 58/53, Talat to Bursa, Konia, Angora provinces, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Afion, Ismid districts,

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  231

76

77

78

79

80 81

17 November 1915, EUM Spec. 693, very urgent. The Ministry of the Interior sent a reminder to those provincial and district authorities who had not supplied the data by 10 November 1915: DH.ŞFR. 57/380, Minister to Angora, Konia, Harput, Diarbekir, Mosul, Aleppo, Syria provinces, Afion, Nighde, Urfa districts, 10 November 1915, EUM 6315. DH.ŞFR. 57/94, Subhi to Adana province, 23 October 1915, EUM Spec. 87; 57/155, Minister to Djemal Pasha, 28 October 1915, EUM Spec. 19; 57/158, Minister to Djemal Pasha, 28 October 1915, EUM Spec. 6210; 57/162, Hasan, 31 October 1915; 57/191, Talat to Shukru (at Urfa), 30 October 1915, EUM Spec. 45; 57/217, Talat to Ismail Djanbolad, 1 November 1915, EUM Spec. 125; 57/231, Talat to Djemal, 1 November 1915, EUM Spec. 99; 57/255, Subhi to Ismail Djanbolad, 2 November 1915, EUM Spec. 92; 57/295, Minister to Eskishehir district, 4 November 1915, EUM Spec. 44; 57/313, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 6 November 1915, EUM Spec. 105; 57/326, Talat to Ismail, Shukru, 7 November 1915, EUM Spec. 134, 133; Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, p. 400. Talat Bey had already instructed Shukru Bey to meet with the new Aleppo governor and Abdulahad Nuri Bey: DH.ŞFR. 57/191, Talat to Shukru, 30 October 1915, EUM Spec. 45; 495/95, Ismail Djanbolad to Ministry of the Interior, Eskishehir railway station, 2 November 1915, no. 3517; 495/124, Ismail Djanbolad to Ministry of the Interior, Afion, 2 November 1915, no. 17787; 495/103, Ismail Djanbolad to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 3 November 1915, no. 33813; 57/298, Minister to Ismail Djanbolad, 4 November 1915, EUM Spec. 96; 496/10, Ismail Djanbolad to Ministry of the Interior, Ulukishla, 4 November 1915, no. 7834; 496/21, Ismail Djanbolad to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 5 November 1915, no. 20629; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 73/60, Ismail Djanbolad to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 6 November 1915; DH.ŞFR. 496/53, Ismail Djanbolad to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 7 November 1915, no. 66268; 57/363, Talat to Shukru, 9 November 1915, EUM Spec. 139; Falih Rıfkı [Atay], Zeytindağı, pp. 40–41. DH.ŞFR. 497/19, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 11 November 1915, no. 67306, urgent. Mustafa Abdulhalik Bey arrived in Aleppo on 8 November 1915 and took up his post the following day. Mustafa Abdulhalik to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 23 January 1916 no. 668, in Yuca and Orel, Ermenilerce Talât Paşa’a Atfedilen Telgrafların Gerçek Yüzu, p. 57; Kress Archiv, Aleppo, 10 November 1915. DH.ŞFR. 58/74, Talat to Aleppo province, 14 November 1915, EUM Spec. 6371; 497/43, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 13 November 1915, no. 67936; 58/56, Minister to Urfa and Zor districts, 18 November 1915, EUM Spec. 54, 45; 58/59, Minister to Aleppo province, 18 November 1915, EUM Spec. 150; DH.ŞFR. 58/63, Minister to Shukru, 18 November 1915, EUM Spec. 151; 58/66, Minister to Adana province, 18 November 1915, EUM 106; 58/143, Talat to Konia and Syria provinces, Ismid, Eskishehir, Kutahia, Afion and Nighde districts, 28 November 1915, EUM. DH.ŞFR. 57/351, Talat to Konia and Adana provinces, Shukru, 8 November 1915, EUM Spec. 135, 99, 36. DH.ŞFR. 496/89, Djemal Pasha to Talat, Aleppo (HQ), 9 November 1915, no. 211421, personally decode; 496/135, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Damascus, 10 November 1915, no. 95909; Djemal Pasha to Supreme High Command, Aleppo (HQ), 9 November 1915, telegram 6080, in Türkiye Cumhuriyeti, Genelkurmay Başkanlığı, Arşiv Belgeleriyle Ermeni Faaliyetleri 1914–1918, p. 26; Kress-Archiv, Adana, no. 12, 1915, Aleppo, 17 November 1915; Kressenstein, Mit den Türken zum Suezkanal, pp. 136–7.

232  Hilmar Kaiser 82 DH.ŞFR. 496/139, Mustafa Abdulhalik to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 11 November 1915, no. 6744/805. 83 DH.ŞFR. 666/128, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo, 14 November 1915, no. 68283, urgent; 58/25, Minister to Shukru, 16 November 1915, EUM Spec. 148. 84 The Ministry of the Interior had already authorized the visit to Damascus on 7 October 1915: DH.ŞFR. 56/318, Minister to Shukru Bey, 7 October 1915 EUM Spec. 91; 497/45, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Damascus, 13 November 1915, no. 96824; 58/60, Minister to Shukru, 18 November 1915, EUM Spec. 152; 498/62, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Damascus, 21 November 1915, no. 98054, very urgent; 58/80, Talat to Shukru, 21 November 1915, EUM Spec. 63. 85 DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 11/19, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 17 September 1915; DH.ŞFR. 666/97, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 17 September 1915, no. 5054. 86 DH.ŞFR. 495/81, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 1 November 1915, no. 206381/618; 57/268, Minister to Adana province, 3 November 1915, Personnel Dept. Gen. 19163, Spec. 94; 496/20, Djemal Pasha to Ministry of the Interior, Aleppo (HQ), 5 November 1915, no. 21162; 57/313, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 6 November 1915, EUM Spec. 105; 666/122, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 6 November 1915, no. 116/51; DH.EUM. 2 ŞB 73/60, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 8 November 1915, Fethi to Ministry of the Interior, Osmanie, 8 November 1915; DH.ŞFR. 496/133, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 10 November 1915, no. 20619/630, urgent; 496/134, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 10 November 1915, no. 21241/633; 57/406, Ministry of the Interior to Adana province, 13 November 1915, Personnel Dept. Gen. 19305, Spec. 101; 58/12, Talat to Adana province, 15 November 1915, EUM Spec. 103; 497/102, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Tarsus, 17 November 1915, no. 9683; 58/51, Talat to Adana province, 17 November 1915, EUM Spec. 105; 498/5, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, 18 November 1915, no. 21843/664; 498/7, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 18 November 1915, no. 21913/671; 498/27, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 20 November 1915, no. 2197?/672; 498/28, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, 20 November 1915, no. 22012/675; 506/99, Samih Rifat to Ministry of the Interior, Konia, 25 January 1916, no. 1305/804. 87 DH.ŞFR. 498/105, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 24/25 November 1915, no. 9878; 498/106, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Islahie, 24/25 November 1915, no. 8979; 498/107, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Osmanie, 25 November 1915, no. 15836; 498/88, Hakki to Ministry of the Interior, Adana, 24 November 1915, no. 22016; AA-PA, Constantinople 98, J. no. 10365, Rössler to Embassy, Aleppo, 25 November 1915, telegram 173, Kress Archiv, Aleppo, 10 November 1915. 88 DH.ŞFR. 58/141, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 28 November 1915, EUM, Spec. 112. 89 AA-PA, Constantinople 98, J. no. 11710, Paula Schäfer, n.p., 16 November 1915, copy, enclosure in Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, Pera, 29 December 1915, no. 120. 90 On use of bayonets against deportees at Islahie, see “Islahiyé-Radjo-Azaz.” ABCFM missionary Elizabeth Webb probably received her information from Rohner and Schäfer, as the missionaries cooperated closely in the relief effort. She thought that the site had to be cleared because Colmar Von der Goltz, the new commander of the Ottoman forces in Iraq, and his staff were about to pass through. The authorities tried to conceal the extent of the misery. AA-PA, Constantinople 98, J. no. 11710, Rohner, “Report on a visit to a tent camp at Mamure on 26 November, 1915,” copy, Schäfer, “Report on a visit to the tent camp at Islahie on 1 December 1915,” copy, enclosure in Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, Pera, 29 December 1915, no. 120; United States, Harvard University, Houghton Library, Cambridge, MA, American Board of

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  233

91

92

93 94

95

Commissioners for Foreign Missions, Central Turkey Mission, 1910–1919, reel 672, Elizabeth Webb, “The exiling of the Armenians, Adana district,” enclosure in Webb to Barton, Oberlin, OH, 14 November 1917. DH.ŞFR. 499/66, Djemal Pasha to Talat Bey, Aleppo (HQ), 1 December 1915, no. 23140/6648; 58/186, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 2 December 1915, EUM Spec. 113; 58/186, Talat to Djemal Pasha, 2 December 1915, EUM Spec. 113; 58/196, Subhi to Adana province, 4 December 1915, Personnel Dept. 114; 58/258, Talat to Aleppo province, 10 December 1915, EUM Spec. 166. In Istanbul, Djemal Pasha and Kress met with German Ambassador Metternich. The latter noted how Djemal Pasha was embarrassed about the Armenian deportations. Kress had described conditions in the region in a very blunt manner and was traumatized. AA-PA, Türkei 183/40, A 36184, Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, Pera, 7 December 1915, no. 711; Türkei 183/40, A 36483, Metternich to Bethmann-Hollweg, Pera, 9 December 1915, no. 714; Constantinople 172, J. no. 283, Rössler to Metternich, Aleppo, 3 January 1916, no. 16, K. no. 2; Kressenstein, Mit den Türken zum Suezkanal, pp. 140–41; Kressenstein, “Achmed Djemal Pascha als Soldat,” p. 6; Kress Archiv, Tarsus [?], 2 December 1915. According to an Armenian account, Djemal Pasha permitted the Catholic Armenian Bishop of Caesarea, Antoine Bahabanian, to remain with his relatives and entourage in Aleppo in the short term. Bahabanian’s cousin Grégoire Bahaban, the Catholic Bishop of Angora, noted in his diary that he had been in Islahie at the time. Fortunately, the local authorities accepted the travel permits Djemal Pasha had issued as being valid for this second group as well, and both groups made their way to Aleppo. On 23 January 1916, Djemal Pasha allowed the Catholic Bishop of Angora to stay in Damascus, while his colleague from Caesarea moved to Jerusalem. Medjimékian, Les Arméniens d’Angora déportés et massacrés, p. 33; Grégoire Bahaban, Une page sur mille du témoignage chrétien d’un peuple, pp. 129–30, 134. Lieutenant-Colonel Raith, “Deutschtum in Persien,” p. 125. For the Fourth Army’s announcement that offenders would be severely dealt with, see Kaiser, “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies,” pp. 178–9. Kress Archiv, Aleppo, 10 November 1915, 27 November 1915. HHStA, PA LX 272, Aus der Türkei, Constantinople, 31 November 1915, no. 397; BOA, İrade, Dosya Usulü, 114-21, Talat to Grand Vezir, 21 September 1916, Ministry of the Interior, Personnel Directorate 24034/528; DH.ŞFR. 530/36, Shukru to Ministry of the Interior, Diarbekir, 28 August 1916, no. 2509; 68/162, Talat to Aleppo province, 2 October 1916, IAMM 9399/748; Germany, Universität Halle, Lepsius-Archiv, Halle, 13763– 13771, Rössler to Lepsius, Eger, 26 April 1921; Dadrian and Akçam, Tehcir ve Taktil, p. 237; Andonian, Documents officiels concernant les massacres arméniens, pp. 7–8, 31–2, 109–10, 130, 143; “Islahiyé-Radjo-Azaz,” p. 73; Andonian, “Bab”; Andonian, “Chükri Bey”; Yakupoğlu, “Bir Sürgün Kahramanı Abdülahad Nuri Bey.” Kaiser, The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region, pp. 198–211.

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234  Hilmar Kaiser —— “Bab,” Revue d’histoire arménienne contemporaine 2 (1998): 77–85. —— “Chükri Bey,” Revue d’histoire arménienne contemporaine 2 (1998): 100. Anush, A., Passage through Hell: A Memoir, trans. I. Jinbashian. Studio City, CA: Hagop and Knar Manjikian, 2005. Bahaban, G., Une page sur mille du témoignage chrétien d’un peuple, trans. G. Amadouni. Venice: Mekhitarist Press, 1976. Barton, J., “Turkish Atrocities”: Statements of American Missionaries on the Destruction of Christian Communities in Ottoman Turkey, 1915–1917. Ann Arbor, MI: Gomidas Institute, 1998. Beylerian, A. (ed.), Les Grandes Puissances, l’Empire ottoman et les Arméniens dans les archives françaises (1914–1918): recueil de document. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 1983. Çankaya, A., Yeni Mülkiye Târihi ve Mülkiyeliler (Mülkiye Şeref Kitabı). Ankara: Mars Matbaası, 1968–9. Çiçek, M. T., War and State Formation in Syria: Cemal Pasha’s Governorate during World War I. London: Routledge, 2014. Çitçi, S., “Bir Devlet Adam Olarak Fâik Âli Ozansoy,” Atatürk Üniversitesi Türkiyat Araştırmaları Dergisi 50 (2013): 103–24. Dadrian, V., To the Desert: Pages from my Diary, trans. A. J. Hacikyan. Princeton, NJ: Gomidas Institute, 2003. Dadrian, V. N., “The Naim–Andonian Documents on the World War I Destruction of Ottoman Armenians: The Anatomy of a Genocide,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 18/3 (1986): 311–60. Dadrian, V. N., and Taner Akçam (eds), “Tehcir ve Taktil”: Divan-ı Harb-i Örfî Zabıtları: İttihad ve Terakki’nin Yargılanması 1919–1922. Istanbul: İstanbul Bilgi Üniversitesi Yayınları, 2008. Djelal Bey, “Ermeni Vekayii ve Esbab ve Tesiratı,” Vakit, 12 December 1918. Donelian, O., “Mounboudj,” Revue d’histoire arménienne contemporaine 2 (1998): 93–5. Dündar, F. Modern Türkiye’nin Şifresi: İttihat ve Terakki’nin Etnisite Mühendisliği (1913–1918). Istanbul: İletişimYayınları, 2008. —— A Crime of Numbers: The Role of Statistics in the Armenian Question (1878–1918). New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction, 2010. Erden, A. F., Birinci Dünya Harbinde Suriye Hâtıraları, vol. 1. Istanbul: Halk Matbaası, 1954. Falih Rıfkı, Zeytindağı. Istanbul: Hakimiyet-i Milliye Matbaası, 1932. Glockler, H. W., Interned in Turkey 1914–1918. Beirut: Sevan Press, 1969. “Islahiyé-Radjo-Azaz,” Revue d’histoire arménienne contemporaine 2 (1998): 68–74. Kaiser, H. “The Baghdad Railway and the Armenian Genocide, 1915–1916: A Case Study in German Resistance and Complicity,” in R. G. Hovannisian (ed.), Remembrance and Denial: The Case of the Armenian Genocide. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1998, pp. 67–112. —— “Dall’impero alla repubblica: le continuità del negazionismo turco,” in M. Flores (ed.), Storia, verità, guistizia: I crimini del XX secolo. Milan: Bruno Mondadori, 2001, pp. 89–113. —— “‘A Scene from the Inferno’: The Armenians of Erzerum and the Genocide, 1915–1916,” in H.-L. Kieser and D. J. Schaller (eds), Der Völkermord an den Armeniern und die Shoah/The Armenian Genocide and the Shoah. Zurich: Chronos, 2002, pp. 129–86.

Shukru Bey and the Armenian deportations  235 —— “Die deutsche Diplomatie und der armenische Völkermord,” in F. Adanır and B. Bonwetsch (eds), Osmanismus, Nationalismus und der Kaukasus: Muslime und Christen, Türken und Armenier im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert. Wiesbaden: Ludwig Reichert, 2005, pp. 203–35. —— “Armenian Property, Ottoman Law, and Nationality Policies during the Armenian Genocide, 1915–1916,” in O. Farschild, M. Kropp, and S. Dähne (eds), The First Word War as Remembered in the Countries of the Eastern Mediterranean. Würzburg: Ergon, 2006, pp. 49–71. —— “The Armenians in Lebanon during the Armenian Genocide,” in A. Boudjikanian (ed.), Armenians of Lebanon: From Past Princesses and Refugees to Present-Day Community. Beirut: Haigazian University Press, 2009, pp. 31–56. —— “Genocide at the Twilight of the Ottoman Empire,” in D. Bloxham and A. D. Moses (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Genocide Studies. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010, pp. 365–85. —— “Regional Resistance to Central Government Policies: Ahmed Djemal Pasha, the Governors of Aleppo, and Armenian Deportees in the Spring and Summer of 1915,” Journal of Genocide Research 12 (2010): 173–218. —— The Extermination of Armenians in the Diarbekir Region. Istanbul: Bilgi University Press, 2014. Kaiser, H., with Eskijian, L. and Eskijian, N., At the Crossroads of Der Zor: Death, Survival, and Humanitarian Resistance in Aleppo, 1915–1917. Princeton, NJ: Gomidas Institute, 2001. Kévorkian, R. H., “Le Sort des déportés dans les camps de concentration de Syrie et de Mésopotamie,” Revue d’histoire arménienne contemporaine 2 (1998): 7–61. —— Le Génocide des arméniens. Paris: Odile Jacob, 2006. Kressenstein, F., “Achmed Djemal Pascha als Soldat,” Mitteilungen des Bundes der Asienkämpfer 4/9 (1922): 2–6. —— Mit den Türken zum Suezkanal. Berlin: Vorhut, 1938. Merdjimékian, P., Les Arméniens d’Angora déportés et massacrés: Pourqoi et comment? Cairo: Hindié, 1920. Odian, Y., Accursed Years: My Exile and Return from Der Zor, 1914–1919, trans. A. S. Melkonian. London: Gomidas Institute, 2009. Ohandjanian, A. (ed.), Österreich–Armenien 1872–1936: Faksimilesammlung diplomatischer Aktenstücke. Vienna: Ohandjanian, 1995. Orel, Ş., and Yuca, S., Ermenilerce Talât Paşa’a Atfedilen Telgrafların Gerçek Yüzü. Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu, 1983. Lieutenant-Colonel Raith, “Deutschtum in Persien,” Mitteilungen des Bundes der Asienkämpfer 11 (1929). Sarafian, A. (ed.), United States Official Records on the Armenian Genocide 1915–1917. Princeton, NJ: Gomidas Institute, 2004. Shemmassian, V. L., “Humanitarian Intervention by the Armenian Prelacy of Aleppo during the First Months of the Genocide,” Journal of the Society for Armenian Studies 22 (2013): 127–52. Solak, M., Atatürk’ün Bakanı Şükrü Kaya (Uluslaşma, Laiklik, Toprak Reformu). Istanbul: Kaynak Yayınları, 2013. “Şükrü Kaya,” Türk Ansiklopedisi. Ankara: Milli Eğitim Bakanlığı, 1974. Tetik, A., “4’üncu Ordu Komutanlığı’nin Bölgesinde Salgın Hastalıklarla Mücadele ve İnsani Yardım Çalışmalari,” Ermeni Araştırmaları 30 (2008): 85–112.

236  Hilmar Kaiser Türkiye Cumhuriyeti, Genelkurmay Başkanlığı, Arşiv Belgeleriyle Ermeni Faaliyetleri 1914 –1918, vol. 8. Ankara: Genelkurmay Askerî Tarih ve Stratejik Etüt ve Denetleme Başkanlığı Yayınları, 2008. Üngör, U. Ü., The Making of Modern Turkey: Nation and State in Eastern Anatolia, 1913–1950. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011. Wolffskeel Von Reichenberg, E., Zeitoun, Mousa Dagh, Ourfa: Letters on the Armenian Genocide, ed. H. Kaiser. Princeton, NJ: Gomidas Institute, 2001. Yakupoğlu, C., “Bir Sürgün Kahramanı Abdülahad Nuri Bey: Hayatı, Eserleri ve SelçukluBeyliklerTarihi Üzerine Çalışmaları,” Ankara Üniversitesi Osmanlı Tarihi Araştırma ve Uygulama Merkezi Dergisi 21 (2007): 169–89. Yeğena, A. M., Ali Münif Bey’in Hâtıraları, ed. Taha Toros. Istanbul: İsis Yayıncılık, 1996.

Index

19th Division 4, 74 26th Infantry Division 75 31 March counter-revolution 12, 13, 15 77th Infantry Regiment 74, 75 125th Regiment 75 1908 Revolution 10–13, 15, 16, 25, 27, 28, 33, 41–43, 47, 49, 50, 52, 67, 89 1913 Raid on the Sublime Porte (Bāb-ı Ālī Baskını)/Raid on the Sublime Porte in 1913 10, 13–15, 25, 26, 28, 29 Aaronsohn, Aaron 95, 96, 99, 103, 126, 129 Aaronsohn, Sarah 95, 96, 99 Abandoned Property Commission 172, 173, 179, 186, 203, 204, 220, 222, 229–230 ABCFM (American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions) 179, 182, 232 Abd al-Fattah Ruwas Qal‘aji 141, 148 Abdi Tawfiq Bey 50 Abdo, Muhammad 38, 43 Abdulahad Nuri Bey (president of the Abandoned Property Commission in Eskishehir) 179, 180, 195, 209, 217, 218, 223, 231 Abdulhamid II 10–12, 49, 50, 87, 88, 90, 168 Abdullah Bey (a Public Prosecutor at a Court of Appeals), 116–118, 123 Abdulmedjid Bey 214–216 Abidin, Abu al-Khayr 46, 64, 69, 83 Abuharara 192, 204, 207 Abu Manneh, Butrus 55 Academy of the Arabic Language in Damascus 37, 43

Action Army 13 Adana 15, 47, 155, 158, 160, 172, 174–177, 181, 183, 185, 186, 189, 200, 209, 212–216, 221 Afion 177, 179, 180, 184, 209, 210 Africa 1, 50 Ağaoğlu, Ahmet 82, 90, 106 Ahmed Djelaleddin Pasha 11 Ahmed Eyub Bey 171, 221 Ahmed Rasim 23 Ahmed Rıza 23, 34, 35 Ahmet Faik Bey (Governor of Damascus) 20, 33 Ahmet Izzet Pasha (Minister of War) 17, 29, 31 Ahmet Muhtar Efendi (Representative of the Ottoman GHQ) 68 Aintab 39, 65, 161, 170, 189, 191, 193–195, 225 Akka 38, 40, 42, 64, 65 Akra 190 al-‘Asali, Shukri 43, 152 al-‘Ubaidi, Habib Effendi 49 al-Afghani, Djemal ad-Din 38, 49 al-Ajlani, Ata 64 al-Akki,Ibrahim 40, 64 al-Albab, Irshad 50 Alanya 32 al-Ashraf, Naqib 52, 64 Alayund 179–181 al-Azhar 40, 42 al-Azhari, Muhâsin 64 al-Balagh 64, 65 Albanians 73 al-Baqir, Muhammad 38, 43, 47, 64, 65 al-Birri, Yusuf 130, 134, 136, 146 al-Bustani, Butrus 55

238 Index Aleppo Abandoned Property Commission 203, 220, 222, 229 Aleppo Division (Halep Fırkası) 4, 73–76 Alexandria 42, 111, 118, 229 Aley 43, 63 al-Farran, Elias 143, 147 al-Fatat society 81 Algeria 44, 52 al-Ghazzi, Nadia 141 al-Gilani, Ahmad 64 al-Habbal, Hussein 47, 64, 65, 69, 76, 83 al-Haj, Abd al-Rahman 40, 64 al-Halabi, Muhammad 76 al-Haram al-Sharif 40 al-Hasani, Taj al-Din 64 al-Haznedar, Abd al-Latif 64 al-Hussieni, Kamel Effendi 52 al-Iqbal 64, 65 al-Ittihad al-Uthmani 152 Ali Fethi (Okyar) 12–17, 26, 28, 29–32, 35, 36 Ali Fuad (Erden) 17, 19, 30, 33, 57, 82, 83, 99, 211 Ali Fuad/Fuat (Cebesoy) 13, 61 Ali Kemal Bey 10, 26 Ali Mubarak 43 Ali Münif (Yegena) 20, 33, 36, 221, 236 Ali Seidi Bey (Civil Inspector) 172 Ali Suad Bey (the Governor of Der Zor) 173, 175 al-Jaza’iri, Taher 43 Al-Khalidi, Ruhi 90 al-Khatib, Abd al-Qadir 64 Al-Khitat al-Tawfiqiyya 43 al-Khuri, Bishara 134, 139, 140, 144 Allenby, General Edmund 93, 101, 151, 161 Alliance of Arabs and Turks 40 Alliance Israelite schools 112 Allied (Entente) blockade 5, 6, 56, 131, 150, 151, 156, 161 al-Maqdisi, Jirjis 143, 147 al-Mawt, Nahr 138 al-Mudhaffar, Abd al-Qadir 42 Al-Muqtabas 37, 38, 43, 44, 49, 52, 60, 64, 65, 67 al-Naassani (or Gassani?) Badr al-Din 64, 83 al-Najah 41, 56, 64 al-Quds 41

al-Quds al-Sharif 40, 41, 64 al-Rifa‘i, Sayyid Hamza 52 al-Rihla al-Anwariyyah 38, 41, 50, 54, 56, 60 al-Rimawi, Ali 40–42, 53, 54, 64, 76 Alroey, Gur 95, 98, 102, 104 al-Sabcali, Ascad 136, 146, 148 al-Saffah 88, 137, 147 al-Shabbi, Abu al-Qasim 144 al-Sharq 22, 34, 35, 49, 50, 166, al-Shukairi, Asad 22, 33, 38, 39, 40, 42–44, 47, 48, 52, 53, 55, 64–67, 69, 71, 72, 75–79, 81, 83, 84 al-Suud, Taher Abu 40, 64 al-Ubaysi, Mustafa Salih (the Mufti of Aleppo) 64, 76 al-Unsi, Abd al-Basit 47, 64, 65 al-Ustuvani, Abd al-Muhsin 64 al-Ya‘qubi, Salim 42, 54 al-Yusuf, Abd al-Rahman 22, 33, 66, 67 al-Zabi, Muhammad 64 al-Zarkali, Kheir al-Din 56 Amanus Mountains 209, 211, 212, 213, 215, 216 Amasia 205, 206 American Red Cross 182 Americas 1 Anafartalar 76, 77, 84 Anatolia 2, 4, 6, 21, 43, 45–48, 54, 56, 57, 69, 70, 82, 88, 99, 150, 158, 236 Anatolian and Baghdad railways 171, 179, 186 Anatolian cities 39 Anatolian interior 61 Anatolian peasants 39 Anatolian provinces 45, 51, 117 Anatolian regions 53 Anatolian workers 45 Anaza Bedouins 206 Andonian, Aram 170, 219, 233, 234 Anglo-Palestine Bank 118, 123 Angora/Ankara 124, 161, 175, 187, 233 Antalya 155 Antioch 62, 159 Anti-Semitism 5, 88, 98, 108 Anti-Zionism/Zionist 5, 89, 94, 112, 115, 122–124 Anwarite Expedition to the Hijazi and Syrian Lands 50

Index  239 ANZAC/Anzac-British 53, 74, 75, 84 Arab “separatism” 4, 37, 54 Arab and Turkish elements 41 Arab Congress of Paris in 1913 19 Arab conspirators 67 Arab culture 54, 69 Arabdom 51 Arab East 37, 38, 53, 55, 56, 60 Arab elite 62, 66, 67, 69, 80 Arabic 4, 19, 38, 40, 41, 45, 47, 68, 72, 74–76 Arabic dailies/newspapers/periodicals 6, 65, 81 Arab intellectuals 44, 80, 81 Arabism, 25, 38, 40, 54 Arabist cultural modernism 44 Arabist intellectuals 55 Arabist leaders 1 Arabist movement in Syria 49 Arabist opposition 19, 33, Arabists 19, 23, 56 Arabization 41, 47, 54 Arabized 47 Arab lands 46, 61–63, 69, 79, 72, 81 Arab leaders 4 Arab literati 33, 61–63, 66, 80, 81 Arab literary renaissance 40 Arab masses 65 Arab Middle East 1 Arab modernist thought 37 Arab nahda 38 Arab nationalism 2, 43, 53, 55, 59, 99, 101, 105, 106 Arab nationalists 38, 40, 42, 44, 47, 50, 53, 55, 61, 63, 66, 70, 79, 81, 92 Arab national movements 4 Arab notables 19, 23, 61, 63, 66, 68, 70, 79 Arab peasants 93 Arab population 53, 95, 99, 111, 171 Arab provinces 37–39, 45, 47–49, 54, 61, 63, 65 Arab public opinion 4, 44, 54, 63, 70, 111 Arab revivalism 44 Arab Revolt 78, 145, 161 Arab secessionist/separatist movements 37, 48, 53, 65 Arab soldiers 4, 46, 48, 73–75, 77, 80 Arab Turkification 54 Arab-Turkish divide 45

Arab-Turkish friendship 69 Arab-Turkish relations 39 Arab-Turkish solidarity 37, 65 Arab-Western civilization (hadara ‘arabiyya gharbiyya) 44 Arab World 7, 49, 81, 100 Arıburnu 72 Arif Efendi (Mufti of Aintab) 64, 76 Armenian Catholic Bishop of Caesarea 216 Armenian Catholic Patriarch 175 Armenian Catholics 173 Armenian community 25, 108, 122, 124, 172, 173, 204 Armenian deportations 7, 25, 169, 171, 172, 173, 210, 212, 217, 219, 221, 223, 224, 225, 227, 229, 231, 233, 235 Armenian deportees 6, 21, 25, 34, 129, 171–173, 175, 176, 178–183, 187, 191, 197, 198, 200, 201, 211, 212, 214, 216, 217, 229, 235 Armenian genocide 99, 100, 103, 124, 169 Armenian girl Hayganush 185 Armenian intellectuals 172, 228 Armenian massacres 17, 25 Armenian Orthodox community 172 Armenian question 55, 175, 176, 204, 234 Armenian Revolutionary Federation 120 Armenian survivors 3, 169, 170, 205 Armenian women and orphans 194 Armenians 6, 17, 25, 26, 31, 32, 36, 46, 55, 73, 87, 89, 98, 99, 122, 124, 169–235 Arslan, Shakib 22, 33, 49, 66 Arutz Sheva 98, 104 Asia 1 Asia Minor 208 Athlit 96 Atıf (CUP leader) 14 Atıf Bey (governor of Aleppo) 160, 167 Australia 110 Australian 73 Austrian archives 4, 7, 151 Austrian press 103 Austro-Hungarian Empire 1 Avîda, Abd al-Qarim 64, 76 Avni Bey (Gendarmerie commander of Osmanie) 212 Avrathisar 16 Azaz transit camp 218

240 Index Aziz, Abd al-Rahman 40, 64, 76 Azmi Bey (Governor of Syria) 20, 33, 48, 65 Azmi Bey (of Beirut and former police director) 16, 17, 19, 20, 24, 30, 33, 153 Azmi Bey (of Trebizond) 18 Azm Museum 141 Baalbek 201 Baghdad Railway 171, 179, 186, 198, 206 Bahabanian, Antoine (the Catholic Armenian Bishop of Caesarea) 233 Bahaeddin Bey (Kaymakam of Jaffa) 5, 92, 107, 108, 110, 111, 112–120, 123, 124 Bahaeddin Shakir/Şakir 10, 11, 12, 14, 27, 31 Balkanization of the Middle East 53 Balkan Wars 13, 15, 28, 29, 72, 73, 90, 170 Bashir Bey 52 Bastendorff (German railway engineer) 206 Baylan 159 Bayt Shabab 139 Bedouin 155, 157, 158, 159, 194, 204, 206 Bedouin dialects 52, Bedri Bey (governor of Aleppo) 19, 33, 159, 160, 167 Bedri Bey (governor of Mardin), 176 Beershiba/Bi’r al Sabi’ 40, 43, 51, 52, Beirut Reform Committee 163 Beit al-Maqdis 41 Beit Rima 40, 42, Bekac Valley 139 Bekir Sami Bey (the governor of Beirut and Aleppo) 21, 23, 34, 113 Ben-David, Lenny 98 Ben-Gurion, David 120 Ben-Hillel Hacohen 93, 95, 97, 98 Ben Zvi, Yitzhak 91, 120 Berlin Congress 87 Bilad al-Sham 6, 38, 39, 46, 91, 150–153, 155, 156, 158, 159, 161, 162, 166, 168 Biledjik 179, 180 Binark, Nermidil Erner 33 Biredjik 193, 205 Bir Hassana 51

Blumenfeld, Mr. 113 Boghossian, Dr. Khatchik 202, 228 British ambassador 30 British authorities 170, British defeat at Gaza 93 British forces 41, 53, 63, 64 British intelligence 53 British model 12 British occupation of Jerusalem 62 British propaganda 62, 63, 70 British troops 93, 161 Brode, Heinrich (German Consul at Jerusalem and Damascus) 94, 100 Budapest 46 Bulgaria/Bulgarians 16, 55, 93, 170 Burj Square 143 Bursa 46, 166, 177, 220, 229 Bursa Abandoned Property Commission 203, 229 Büge, Eugen, 176 Adwan, Mamduh, 137 Caesarea 190, 201, 216, 220, 221, 233 Cairo 42–44, 62, 96 caliph/caliphate 22, 33, 38, 44–46, 49, 53–55, 63, 65, 68, 76, 84 capitulations 92, 110, 116 c Arida, Nasib 135 c Assaf, Rashid 136 Caucasian front 171 Celal Bey (Bayar) 18 Central Committee (of the CUP) 12–18, 21, 24, 25, 27, 28, 32, 33, 49, 67–69, 173 Cevad Bey (Head of the Escort Committee) 68 Christian Arabists 56 Christian Arabs 55, 201 Christian clergy 19, 20 Christian intellectuals in Mount Lebanon and Palestine 55 Christian intelligentsia 55 Christian mission schools 38 Christians 48, 88, 94, 97, 102, 143, 183, 189, 201, Cilicia 172, 178 Cinema Janaq Qal’a (Çanakkale) 48, 65 Circassian (Hasan Amca) 10 Circassians 73 c

Index  241 Commission for Arabic teaching (Arabça Tedrisat Komisyonu) at Istanbul University (Darulfunun) 19 Commission of Inquiry 170, 179, 181 Committee’s (CUP) civil faction 15, 16, 18, 25, 28, 32 Conde de Ballobar 34, 62, 63, 89, 92–95, 97, 99, 102 Corriere della Sera 96, 103 Crusaders 43, 70 CUP administration 43, 70 CUP’s Central Office in Salonika 28 CUP’s factions 2–4, 6, 9, 10, 12–14, 16, 18, 20, 21, 25, 31, 61, 62, 66 CUP’s leadership 9, 10, 24, 39, 51, 53, 55, 56 CUP’s military group 13, 14 CUP triumvirate 4, 9, 10, 61, 67, 70 Çatalca 74 Dadrian, Vahakn 170 Dadrian, Vahram 225 Dardanelles 37, 47, 48, 51, 63, 69, 71, 73, 77, 176 Darwarza, Muhammad Izzat 81 Darwinism 11 Deportation Directorate at Aleppo 198, 205 Der Judenstaat 87 Der Zor/Zor 155, 165, 173, 175, 181, 189, 191, 192–194, 196, 200, 203–205, 207, 210, 214, 218, 225 Deutsche-Palästina Bank 156, 165 Diarbekir 10, 18, 26, 172, 175, 189, 190, 208, 217, 218 Directorate for Public Security 5, 169 Directorate for the Settlement of Tribes and Immigrants 7, 169 Director of the Refugees Department 219 Djanbolad, Ismail 20, 21, 24, 32, 33, 169, 179, 208–210, 213 Djavid Bey 13, 15, 17, 24, 26, 28–30, 32–34 Djebel Druze 155 Djelal Bey (governor of Aleppo and Konia) 21, 34, 153, 172, 173, 181, 182, 184, 187, 188, 218, 224 Djemal Bey (Head of Political Section, Istanbul Police HQ) 68

Djemal Pasha Boulevard 46, 51 Djemal Pasha Mersinli (Eighth Army) 42, 50 Djemal Pasha’s CUP faction/group/team 1, 4, 10, 14, 15, 17, 25, 26 Djemal’s public works 43, 57, 70 Djerablus 192 Doctor Reshid/Dr. Reshid 10, 18, 19, 26, 32, 175, 176, 190, 217 Dodd, Dr. William 182, 183 Dohuk 190 Domnitch, Larry 98 Dr. Fuat (Representative of the Ministry of Interior) 68 Dr. Krieger 201 Dr. Nazım Bey 10–14, 24, 27, 173 Eastern Arab provinces 39 Ebabil 64, 65, 69 Ebuziya Tevfik 90 Egypt 11, 22, 40, 42, 43, 44, 49, 51, 62, 70, 84 Egyptian/Canal/Suez campaign/expedition, 1, 2, 20, 38, 40, 48, 52, 64, 114, 141 Egyptian Expeditionary Force (EEF) 93 Ekrem Bey (the last Hamidian governor of Jerusalem) 90 Emir Faisal 48, 52–55, 65, 81, 151, 161 Engelking, Oskar (the German navy officer) 228 England 92 Entente Powers 1, 5, 62, 66 Enver Pasha’s faction/team/group 11, 13, 18, 26, 31 Enver/Anwar (Bey/Pasha) 3, 9, 10, 12–18, 27–33, 38, 40, 41–43, 49–54, 57, 58, 61, 66–70, 74, 161, 211, 212, 216 Ereghli 177, 179, 181–188, 209 Erişirgil, Mehmet Emin 30 Ernst Zu Hohenlohe 175, 176 Erzerum/Erzurum 16, 176, 220 Esad Bey (Uras) 125 Esat/Esad Pasha (Bülkat) 75, 84 Eshref Bey (Civil Inspector) 186 Eskishehir 46, 176–186, 203, 209, 210, 218, 223 EUM’s Eighth Department 110, 115, 125 Euphrates 192, 193, 205, 210 Europe 46–48, 87, 107, 108, 110, 113, 138

242 Index European civilization 44 European cultural hegemony 38 European Jews 88 European provinces of the Sultanate 12, 55 Eyup Sabri Bey 12, 28 Fahrettin Pasha (Altay) 74 Faik Ali Bey (governor of Kütahia)180, 181, 223 Faisali government in Damascus 53 Faisali period in Damascus 55 Faiz Bey (sub-governor of Ereghli) 183, 224 Fakhri Pasha (Fourth Army Deputy Commander) 189, 190, 204 Falih Rıfkı (Atay) 23, 26, 31, 32, 92 Fethi Bey (governor of Osmanie) 201, 205, 212–215 Fethiye 32 Filistin 39, 40, 51, 83 First Battle of Gaza 93 First World War/World War I/Great War 1–3, 5–7, 9, 10, 12, 14, 15, 18, 23, 26, 32, 37, 38, 53, 61, 62, 73, 84, 85, 88, 95, 97, 107, 126, 130–132, 134, 136–140, 143, 144, 150, 151, 161, 162 Fishman, Louis 90 Fourth Army 2, 3, 7, 12, 17, 20, 22, 24, 32, 34, 37, 38, 48, 51, 62–64, 66, 79, 81, 83, 107, 114–117, 119, 121, 123, 124, 153, 159, 164, 165, 167, 169–171, 189–191, 196, 200–203, 206, 208–219 France 44 Franco, Moses (Chief Rabbi) 91 Frankfurter Zeitung 96, 103 Freedom and Entente Party 43 French Consulate in Beirut 44 French Jews 93, 117 Friedman, Isiah 92, 95, 102, 107 Galatasaray School 169 Galib Bey 185 Gallipoli 4, 22, 33, 37, 45, 47, 50, 53, 54, 56, 61–63, 65–77, 80, 82, 108, 122, 155, 213 Gaza 40, 93–95 General Directorate of Deportations at Aleppo 192 Georgians 73 German Military Mission to Istanbul 31

German Orient Bank 196 Germanic people 46 Germans/Germany 15, 22, 25, 30, 31, 34, 88, 92, 94, 96, 103, 112, 120, 123, 128, 155, 175, 183, 196, 212, 214, 227, 228 German-Turkish propaganda 49 Ghareb Bey 206 Glazebrook, Dr. Otis 97, 103 Grand Vizier/Grand Vizierate 12–14, 17, 18, 20, 24, 28, 31, 69 Great Britain 30 Great Powers 62 Greater Syria 2, 6, 20, 37, 38, 42, 51, 53, 62, 64, 65, 80, 91 Greek Orthodox patriarchate 41 Greeks Gurun 174 Günther, Franz J. 179 Haaretz 98, 104 Hafız Hakkı Bey 13 Hafir and Ibin, 51 Hague, The 97 haHerut 41, 57 Haidar Bey 205 Haifa 40, 43, 64, 65, 70, 93, 109, 113, 119, 120 Hail 48 Hajı Adil Bey 28 Hakki Bey (governor of Adana) 28, 174, 186, 212–215 Halide Edib (Adivar) 16, 17, 23, 30,31 Halil Bey (Menteşe) 14, 28, 32 Hama 62, 64, 65, 150, 151, 153, 156, 158, 161, 196, 202, 203, 206, 211 Hamdullah Suphi/Subhi (Tanrıöver) 16, 31, 66, 82 Hamidian censor 41 Hamidian dictatorship 49 Hamidian regime 10, 11, 12, 44, 87 Hamidian restoration 45, 55 Hamidian rule 12 Hamidian Sultanate 49 Hanania 40, 41 Hanania, Jurji 40, 41 Hanna Mina 140, 141 harb al-majaca (War of Hunger) 131 Harran 160, 192, 194, 205 Hasan Bey (gendamerie commander of Jaffa) 112, 184

Index  243 Hasan Bey al-Jabi 50 Hashemites 48–50, 54 Hashomer 111, 112, 117, 120, 123 Hassan Bey’s mosque in Manshiyyeh 42, 51 Hassan ibn Thabit 42 Hauran/Hawran 65, 151, 155, 157, 160, 167, 197, 203, 207, 211, 212 Hawi, Milhem 136 Hebron 39 Herzl, Theodore 87 Hesemann, Michael 98 Higonnet, Margaret 142 Hijaz 37, 38, 50, 51–56, 155 Hijazi expedition 50, 51, 53 Hijazi forces 48 Hijazi leadership 52 Hijazi movement 143 Hijazi notables Hijazi opposition 55 Hijazi railroad 51, 52, 54 Hijazis 54 Hijazi tribes 52 Hilmi Bey and Shefik Bey (Mardin district governors) 19 Hoffmann, Hermann (German consul in Aleppo) 196–198, 206 Holy Cities/Places 54, 84 Holy Qur’an 76 Holy War 1, 70, 76 Homs 150, 151, 153, 156, 196, 203, 211 Hulusi/Khulusi Bey (Governor of Syria) 20, 22, 23, 33, 34, 44, 66–69, 80, 82, 83, 164, 223 Huraiq, Harat 139 Hüseyin Cahid (Yalçın) 17, 26, 32, 33 Hüseyin Kazım Bey 27 IAMM/Directorate for the Settlement of Tribes and Immigrants 169–171, 174, 178–190, 192–193, 195, 196, 200, 202, 203, 205, 209, 210, 218 Ibn Saud 42 Ibrahim Bey (Minister of Justice) 32 Ibrahim Pasha 39 Idlib 159 Ihsan Bey (sub-governor of Kilis) 218 Imperial centralization 3 India 49, 52 Indians 110

Indonesia 49 Inqilab Uthmani (the 1908 Revolution) 50 Iran 196 Iraq 39, 43, 232 Iskenderun 159 Islahie/Islahiye 156, 186, 188, 209, 212–216, 232, 233 Islamic bond 49, 54, 55 Islamic brotherhood 45, 69 Islamic caliphate 44, 53, 84 Islamic Commonwealth (al-Jami‘a al-Islamiyyah) 42, 48, 49, 53, 55 Islamic Ottomanism 55 Islamic realm 4 Islamic reform 43, 44 Islamic rule 56 Islamic scholars 40 Islamic Union 49 Islamic unity 55 Islamic-Secular modernism, 37 Islamization 25 Ismid 176, 177, 179, 182, 209, 210 Israel 91 Israeli 89, 91, 97, 98 Istiqlal party 37 Italian occupation in Tripoli 13, 50 İkdam, 66 Jabi Mosque 51 Jackson, Jesse 173 Jacobson, Dr. Victor 115, 120 Japanese 110 Jerusalem Post Magazine 98, 104 Jewish Chronicle (London) 96, 103 Jewish colonies 5, 92, 94, 95, 111 Jewish community in Palestine 88, 91, 93, 95–97, 108, 109, 111, 113, 114, 117–119, 123, 124 Jewish immigration 48, 87, 88, 90, 107, 109, 110, 111 Jewish nation 87, 108 Jewish population 5, 91, 92, 94–98, 103, 107, 110, 112, 120, 123 Jewish representation in the Ottoman parliament 90 Jewish settlements 106, 112 Jordan River 196 Judaism 91

244 Index Kadinkhan 179 Kale 159 Kamil Pasha,13, 28 Kancan, Ibrahim 139 Kapancizade Hamid Bey 172–174, 178, 188, 220 Karabekir, Kazım 11 Karak 196, 197, 203, 207, 211, 214 Karaman 181–183, 187, 188 Katma/Katma camp 189, 191–193, 195, 197, 205, 207, 209–212, 225 Kâzım (İnanç) 73 Kazım Bey (governor of Salonika) 21 Keegan, John 134 Kelleher, Margaret 142 Kemal Bey (governor of Marash) 195, 217 Kemalist regime 73 Kerkuk 190 Kesriye in Salonik 28 Khitat al-Sham 37, 43 Khoury, Elias 130, 131, 143, 144 Khuwairi, Butrus 139 Kilis 159, 161, 218 Köppel, Mr. 214 Kos 169 Kraus 63 Krieger, Dr. 201 Kumköy 75 Kurd Ali, Muhammad 22, 34, 37, 38, 40, 43–50, 53–56, 63, 64, 67, 69, 70, 82, 137 Kurds 55, 73, 216 Kut al-Amara 53 Kütahya 155 Laeml School for Sephardic girls 41 Latakia 64, 65 Lawrence of Arabia 141 Lebanese 6, 39, 130, 132, 136, 138, 142, 143, 145, 146 Lebanon 2, 150, 151, 153, 156–158, 160–162, 164, 174, 221, Lefke 179 Le Temps 96 Libya 50, 90 Lichtheim, Richard 114, 115, 120–122, 124 Lloyd George, David 93 Loewy, Joseph 111

Loytved-Hardegg, Julius 197, 203, 227 Lydda 40, 42 Maan 84, 212, 214 Macedonia 12, 16, 92 Madjid/Majid Bey (governor of Jerusalem) 23, 34, 109, 110, 112–116, 120 Mahmut Shevket Pasha 14, 15, 17, 29, Major Izzeddin Bey (Çalışlar) 75, 76 Malta 170 Mamure 215, 216 Manchester Guardian 96 Manshiyyeh mosque 42, 51 Marash 171, 172, 181, 189 Marseilles 46 Martyrs’ Square 143 Mazhar Bey 21 Mazlumian brothers 170 Mecca 84 Meclis-i Meb’usan 12, 13, 17 Medina 42, 43, 52, 53, 58, 70, 84 Mehmed Emin Bey (Yurdakul) 17 Mehmet Fasih Efendi 76 Mehmet Refik Bey 27 Meissner Pasha 23 Mekedje 179 Meskene 191, 192, 204, 205, 207 Mesopotamia 169 Middle East 96 Midhad Bey (Governor of Jerusalem) 48, 65, 118–120 Midhat Pasha 20 Midhat Shukri Bey (Bleda)14, 27 Migration Committee (Va’ad HaHagira) 94, 95, 102 Mikveh Agricultural School 94 Mikusch, Dagobert von 198 Modernist Islamic resurgence 38 Monastır (Bitola) 11, 12, 28 Monastır group/faction/branch (of the CUP) 11,13, 27, 28, Monastır leaders (of the CUP) 13 Morgenthau, Henry 115, 117, 118, 120–122, Morocco 52 Mosul 62, 64, 65, 166, 189–191, 196, 200, 204, 210 Mu‘tazilite doctrine 53 Muharrem Bey 185

Index  245 Muhittin Bey (Birgen) 18 Muhtar Bey (Civil Inspector) 179, 181, 222 Murad, Muhammad Effendi 40, 65 Murray, General Archibald 93 Mushtak, Ismail 26 Muslim salafis 53 Muslim troops from Egypt 49 Muslimie 192, 193 Muslims 47–50, 61, 77, 94, 95, 102, 112, 143, 171, 204, 207, 208 Mustafa Abdulhalık/Abdulhalik Bey (Renda, the Governor of Bitlis and Aleppo) 21, 34, 155, 157, 191, 195, 209–211, 217, 218, 229, 231 Mustafa Kemal Bey/Pasha (Atatürk) 15, 17, 25, 29, 31, 50, 61, 62, 73–80, 84, 170 Mustafa Naja (Mufti of Beirut) 64, 72, 76 Mutasarrifiyya/Cebel mutasarrıflığı 20, 22 Nablus 40, 55, 64, 65 Nasr al-Din, Amin 135 Nasr, Butrus 138 Nassar, Najib 55 National Defence Society (Müdafaa-i Milliye Cemiyeti) 72, 83 Nedjib Ahmed Bey 206 Nesimi Sarim Bey (Representative of the CUP Central Committee) 68 New York Times 96, 103 New Zealanders 73, 84 Nighde, 185, 210 NILI 95, 97, 99 Nir Hasson 98, 104 Nucaima, Mikhail 134, 135 Nusayri 74 Nusret Bey (sub-governor of Islahie) 214–216 Odessa 109 O’Grada, Cormac 131, 133, 138, 140 Oppenheim (Baron von) 34 Osmanie 186, 201, 205, 208, 209, 212, 213, 215 Osmanlılık (Ottomanism) 4, 38, 50, 52, 55, 88 Ottoman-Arab modernity, 51 Ottoman archives 6, 66, 128, 151, 163 Ottoman Armenians 6, 41, 57, 124, 217

Ottoman backwardness 45 Ottoman Bank 190, 196 Ottoman brotherhood 45 Ottoman bureaucracy 13, 25, 67, 69, 70 Ottoman cabinet 32 Ottoman citizens/citizenship 4, 39, 53, 80, 88, 91, 92, 111, 113 Ottoman commonwealth 43, 44, 54 Ottoman decline 44 Ottoman ethnicities (siyasat al ‘anasir al uthmaniyyah) 47 Ottoman European provinces 12 Ottoman Freedom Society 11, 14, 27 Ottoman GHQ 66, 68, 72, 84 Ottoman government 3, 6, 16, 17, 19, 23, 25, 26, 32, 53, 88, 107–111, 113–116, 118, 120–124, 128, 154, 156, 169–171, 176, 187, 191, 195, 200, 206, 217 Ottoman Greeks 170 Ottoman identity 39, 54, 88 Ottoman Imperial Army (Osmanlı Ordu-yi Hümâyûnu) 73 Ottomanism 4, 39, 40, 43, 45, 47, 50, 53, 55, 79, 80, 90 Ottomanist identities 40 Ottomanist Syrians 4 Ottomanization, 3 Ottoman Jewish authors 90 Ottoman-Jewish soldiers 2 Ottoman Jews 5, 90 Ottoman leadership 37, 48, 49, 51, 54, 108 Ottoman loyalists 40 Ottoman modernity 4, 53 Ottoman Muslims 49 Ottoman nation/nationalism 26, 45, 89 Ottoman Palestine 2, 100 Ottoman Parliament 90, 100, 107 Ottoman patriotism 88 Ottoman peoples 46 Ottoman presence in Syria 3 Ottoman Public Debt Administration 154 Ottoman realm 4, 11, 45, 56 Ottoman reform 41, 89 Ottomans 1, 42, 44, 45, 46, 48–50, 53, 63, 65, 73, 84, 87–89, 92–96, 99, 103, 113, 119,141 Ottoman society 11, 117 Ottoman soldiers 1, 62, 216 Ottoman sovereignty 89, 91

246 Index Ottoman state/statesmen 2, 10, 19, 20, 32, 38, 42, 43, 50, 52, 54, 61, 87, 113, 117, 122, 157 Ottoman Sultanate 53, 56 Ottoman Syria 6 Ottoman-Syrian bureaucracy 10 Ottoman treasury 68 Ottoman unity/union 25, 38, 45, 61, 88 Ottoman-Zionist relations 107 Ovadjian, Dr. Toros 202 Pacific 1 Palestinian Arabs 41 Palestinians 40, 59, 90 Palestinian and Syrian women 40 Pan-Islamist and pan-Turanist ideas 26 Pan-Turkism/Pan-Turanism 16, 17, 90 Paris 11, 12–14, 19, 169 Parisians of the Central Committee 14 Persia 49 Petah Tikva 95 Poale Zion Party (Workers of Zion) 91 Port Said 96, 103, 118 Positivism 11 Post, Wilfred 179 Pozanti 68, 179, 183–189, 200–202, 209–213 Prince Sabahaddin Bey 27 Prophet’s haram 52 Prophet’s wives 56 Psalm 98 Qalqilya 95, 102 Qureish 48 Radjo 197 Rahmi Bey (Governor of Smyrna) 10, 13, 18, 24 Raif Bey (Beyazıt District Chief, Istanbul Police HQ) 68 Ramleh 51, 62 Ranzi, Karl (Austro-Hungarian ConsulGeneral) 23, 207, 227 Rashid Bey (Eskishehir’s police director) 179 Rashid Rida 38 Rasulain 207, 210 Rauf Bey (Orbay) 15, 17, 18, 32 Razlik 16 Refet Bey (the governor of Eskishehir) 176, 178–180, 185

Refik Halid (Karay) 10 Religious Council at Membidj 200 Republican People’s Party 170 Republic of Turkey 18, 170 Reyhaniye 159 Rifa‘iyya order 52 Rifat Bey (sub-governor of Ulukishla) 184, 185 Rishon LeZion, 94 Rohner, Beatrice 215, 232 Romania 108 Rome 13, 46 Rössler, Walter 176, 191, 206, 218, 226 Royal Medical School 10 Rumi (Greek) 39, 46, 50, 55 Ruppin, Arthur 91, 92, 95, 111, 114, 115, 117, 120, 123, 128, 166 Russian Jews 91, 92, 109, 113–115, 118, 126 Sabka 192, 207, 210 Sacrifice Feast (Kurban Bayramı) 71, 72, 80 Safarbarlik 56, 131, 137, 140–142 Sahag II (the Catholicos of the Great House of Cilicia) 172, 189, 198, 200 Said Halim Pasha 31, 69 Salafi Islamic thinkers 53 Salafism 42 Salahiyya College in Jerusalem 53 Salonika 11–16, 21, 27, 28 Salonika faction/group (of the CUP) 11, 14 Samih Rifat Bey (governor of Konia) 213, 217 Sanusi tribes in North Africa 50 Saudi Wahhabism 42 Schami, Rafik 144 Schmidt, Edmund (German ConsulGeneral at Jerusalem) 112 Scientific Expedition 38, 39, 41, 42, 44, 50, 51, 56, 65 Sebîllürreşad 76 Second Constitutional Period 9, 10, 90 Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews 94 Sephardic community in Palestine 41 Seray 51 Serengulian, Vartkes 31, 120 Shaikh al-Islam 32 Sharon Plain 94 Shehadeh, Sami 42 Sheria 192

Index  247 Sherif Hussein bin Ali/Amir of Mecca 42, 48, 50, 52, 58, 65, 70, 81 Sherifian notables 52 Shevket Bey (governor of Afyon) 177, 180, 184, 209 Shragai 98 Shragai, Nadav 98, 104 Shura-yı Ummet (daily) 11 Sidi Bishir 42 Sinai 40, 50, 51 Sina ve Filistin Cephesi (the Sinai and Palestine Front) 40 Siroz 27 Sivas 119, 189, 190 Smilansky, Moshe 98 Smyrna (Izmir) 10, 12, 18, 27, 46, 155, 166 Sofia 14 Sorbonne University 169 Souchon, Wilhelm 69 St Joseph Jesuit college 45 Subhi Bey (undersecretary of Ministry of Interior) 177–179 Sublime Porte 10, 13–15, 25, 26, 28, 29, 124 Suez Canal see Egyptian campaign Suez front see Egyptian campaign Sultan Mehmed Reshad 40, 68, 69 Sultan Salah al-Din 42, 43, 70 Sultanate 37, 39, 47–49, 53–56, 65 Suriye Heyet-i İlmiyesi ve Edebiyesi 63 Surutch 160, 192, 194 Switzerland 87 Sykes, Mark 96 Syrian-Arab nationalists 40, 55 Syrian-Arab problem, 47 Syrian Arab Republic 53 Syrian Arabs 4, 49 Syrian civilization 54 Syrian culture 38 Syrian dissidents 37 Syrian expedition 39 Syrian farmers 39 Syrian interior 150, 151 Syrian lands 1–3, 5–7, 10, 14, 19–22, 25, 26, 45, 50 Syrian national identity 53 Syrian national perspective 2 Syrian nationalists 54 Syrian-Palestinian delegation 40 Syrian and Palestinian leadership 52

Syrian people 48 Syrian Protestant College 45 Syrian provinces 21, 30, 37 Syrians 1, 4, 19, 22, 23, 40, 47–49, 63, 68, 70, 78, 80 Tabbarah, Ahmad 163 Tahsin Bey (Uzer, Governor of Syria) 16, 17, 19, 20, 24, 30 Takvim-i Vakayi 69, 83 Talat Pasha’s faction/group/team 24, 26 Talat Pasha’s rule 24 Tanin 18, 26 Tanzimat reforms 88, 89 Taqi al-Din, Adib, 52 Tarsus 47, 182–187, 213 Tasvir-i Efkar 23, 90 Taurus Mountains 184, 209, 213 Tawabeer al-‘Amaleh 48 Tawfiq Bey 20, 33 Tchai 179 Tekirdağ 71 Tel Aviv 51, 88, 89, 91–99, 102, 104, 105 Tell Abiad 193, 205, 206, 210, 211 Tevfik Bey (Deputy Head, Staff Officer at Istanbul Army HQ) 68 Tiberias 95, 102 Tibni 192 Tobacco Régie Administration 196 Tokat 23 Tom Segev 98 Transjordan 39 Treaty of San Stefano 87 Trieste 109 Tripoli 13, 64, 65, 72, 136, 139, 160 Tuffaha, Muhammad Rif‘at Effendi 40, 64, 76 Tulkarm 95, 102 Tunis 44 Turjman, Ihsan 2 Turkification 3, 25, 45, 47, 54, 61, 73, 91, 93, 99, 107 Turkish and Arab education 45 Turkish Arabization 54 Turkish Army (Türk Ordusu) 73 Turkish attitudes towards Arabs 39 Turkish Hearth (Türk Ocağı) 16 Turkish language 41, 45 Turkish man 46 Turkish nationalism 61, 73, 82

248 Index Turkish nation-state 62 Turkish-Arab brotherhood, 48, 52 Turkish War of Independence 15, 18, 26 Turkism 16, 195, 213, 217 Turkist faction (of the CUP) 16 Turkist intellectuals 16 Turkist movement 31 Turkist societies 16 Turkists 17, 30 Turks 4, 39, 40, 43–47, 51, 63, 69, 70, 73, 78, 81, 97, 98, 117, 180, 219 Türk Gücü (the Turkish Strength) 16 Türk Yurdu 66, 82 Ulama 4, 39, 56, 81 Ulukishla 183–185, 209 Unionist government 2 Unionist groups 25 Unionist ideology 10, 50 Unionist leaders 3, 9, 17 Unionist movement 10 Unionist policies of centralization 19 Unionist rule 12 Unionists 3, 9, 12–14, 17, 20, 25, 30, 61 United Kingdom 110 United States 92, 108, 110, 112, 114, 115, 118, 120, 123, 131, 135 Urfa 155, 160, 181, 189–195, 200, 203–206, 209, 218 Uryanizade Ali Vahid Efendi 4, 68, 71, 72, 76 Üsküdar 12, 15 Vacuum Oil Company 123 Vienna 13 Von der Goltz, Colmar 216, 232 Von Der Schulenburg, Friedrich 176 Von Falkenhayn, General Erich 84, 98, 160 Von Holback, Mr. 183 Von Kressenstein, Friedrich Count Kress 201, 202, 211, 214, 216, 217, 228, 233 Von Pallavicini, Johann Count 178 Von Sanders, Liman/Liman Pasha 71–73, 80 Von Schabinger, Karl Freiherr 94

Von Schellendorf, Fritz Bronsart 73 Von Wangenheim, Hans 112, 114, 115, 118, 121, 122, 124 Wahhabi challenges 55 Wahhabism 42, 54 Wasfi, Hamza Effendi 52 Webb, Elizabeth (ABCFM missionary) 232, 233 Weber, Dr. Theodor 114 Weizmann,Chaim 96 Western-Arab-Ottoman civilization, 45 Western countries/Powers 3, 31 Wiegand,Theodor 23 World Zionist Organization 111–114 Yaakov, Zichron 99 Yahshush 139 Yahya Kemal (Beyatlı) 16, 30, 31 Yakup Cemil 14 Yamin, Antun 134, 138, 139 Yanina 73 Yemen 103, 111 Yeni Sabah daily 77 Yeshuv (sic) 96 Yezidi 74 Yıldırım group 84, 159, 167 Young Turks, 40, 42, 44, 47, 55, 56, 61, 101 Ypres in Belgium, 95 Yusuf Izzeddin Efendi, 69 Yusuf Kemal Bey 217 Yusuf Zia Bey 205 Zabel, Rudolf (a journalist of the Tägliche Rundschau) Zahir, Sulaiman, 139 Zeitun 171, 207, 219, 220 Zeki Pasha 62 Ziadeh, Nicola 131, 142 Zionism 2, 4, 5, 25, 42, 55, 87–93, 95–100, 108, 110, 118–120, 122–125 Zionists 5, 89, 90, 91, 92, 98, 100, 108, 111, 117–120, 122, 124, 128 Ziya Gökalp 16, 17, 30–32 Ziya Şakir 14, 28, 29 Zughaib, Musa 143