CHAPTER XII

THE STRUGGLE FOR THE BAGDAD RAILWAY IS RESUMED

GERMANY IS ELIMINATED AND RUSSIA WITHDRAWS

The Great War has completely destroyed German influence in the Near East. In the way of any resumption of German enterprise in Turkey are formidable obstacles which are not likely to be removed for some time. To begin with, the Turks themselves will not encourage German attempts to recover the Bagdad Railway or other property rights which were liquidated by the Treaty of Versailles. Among Turkish Nationalists there is satisfaction that Turkey has “shaken off the yoke of the ambitious leaders who dragged the country into the general war on the side of Germany” and has got rid of the “arrogance” of the Germans who infested the Near East during the last years of the war. Resentment at German military domination of Turkey during 1917 and 1918 will not soon disappear.[1]

Furthermore, Germany possesses neither the disposition nor the power to regain her former preëminence in the Near East. The confiscation by the Treaty of Versailles of private property in foreign investments has set a precedent which will make German investors—as well as prudent investors everywhere—extremely chary of utilizing their funds for the promotion of such enterprises as the Bagdad Railway. The surplus production and surplus capital of Germany may be absorbed by reparations payments or attracted to such enterprises as the reconstruction of the German merchant marine. But the _Drang nach Osten_ has become a thing of the past. The dismemberment of the Austrian Empire and the erection of the Jugoslav Kingdom have shut off German access, through friendly states, to the Balkan Peninsula and Asiatic Turkey. Formidable customs barriers will stand in the way of overland trade with the Near East and render railway traffic from “Berlin to Bagdad” unprofitable. Defeat and disarmament have destroyed German prestige in the Moslem world. Democratization of both Germany and Turkey, it is hoped, will render increasingly difficult the kind of secret intrigue that characterized Turco-German relations during the régime of William II and of Abdul Hamid. If Germany returns to the Near East in the next generation or two, it is not likely to be in the rôle of an Imperial Germany promoting railway enterprises of great economic and strategic importance.

Russian diplomatic policy toward Turkey has likewise undergone important changes. Imperial Russia had been a bitter opponent of Imperial Germany in the Bagdad Railway project. Imperial Russia had conspired with Great Britain and France to bring about the collapse and dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire. Imperial Russia was the “traditional enemy” of the Turk. But Imperial Russia was destroyed in 1917 by military defeat and social revolution. Regardless of the pronunciamentos of bourgeois imperialists like Professor Milyukov, revolutionary Russia was certain to look upon the Near Eastern question in a new light. Political and economic disorganization incidental to the war and the revolution would have made it imperative for any government in Russia to curtail its imperialistic pretensions. And with the advent of Bolshevism the outcome was certain. A government which was anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist could not sanction Russian “spheres of interest” or Russian territorial aggrandizement at the expense of Turkey. A government which preached “self-determination of peoples” and “no annexations” could not confirm the secret treaties of 1915–1916. A government which was engaged in repelling foreign invasion and in resisting counter-revolutionary insurrections had to keep within strict limits its military liabilities. Therefore, Soviet Russia speedily foreswore any intention of occupying Constantinople, declared unreservedly for a free Armenia, and proceeded forthwith to withdraw its troops from Persia. These measures were considered “a complete break with the barbarous policy of bourgeois civilization which built the prosperity of the exploiters among the few chosen nations upon the enslavement of the laboring population in Asia,” as well as an expression of Bolshevist Russia’s “inflexible determination to wrest humanity from the talons of financial capital and imperialism, which have drenched the earth with blood in this most criminal of wars.”[2]

Turkish Nationalist resistance to the Treaty of Sèvres met with a sympathetic response on the part of Bolshevist Russia, and on March 16, 1921, the Government of the Grand National Assembly and the Government of the Russian Socialist Federated Soviet Republic signed at Moscow a treaty to confirm “the solidarity which unites them in the struggle against imperialism.” By the terms of this treaty Russia refused to recognize the validity of the Treaty of Sèvres or of any other “international acts which are imposed by force.” Russia ceded to Turkey the territories of Kars and Ardahan, in the Caucasus region, as a manifestation of full accord with the principles of the National Pact. The Soviet Republic, “recognizing that the régime of the capitulations is incompatible with the national development of Turkey, as well as with the full exercise of its sovereign rights, considers null and void the exercise in Turkey of all functions and all rights under the capitulatory régime.” In particular, Russia freed Turkey “from any financial or other obligations based on international treaties concluded between Turkey and the Government of the Tsar.” As regards the construction of railways in Anatolia, the Soviet Government completely reversed the former policy of Imperial Russia, which was to oppose all such railways as a strategic menace.[3] It was now provided that, “with the object of facilitating intercourse between their respective countries, both Governments agree to take in concert with each other all measures to develop and maintain within the shortest possible time, railway, telegraphic, and other means of communication,” as well as measures “to secure the free and unhampered traffic of passengers and commodities between the two countries.” Finally, both countries agreed to stand together in resisting all foreign interference in their domestic affairs: “Recognizing that the nationalist movements in the East,” reads the treaty, “are similar to and in harmony with the struggle of the Russian proletariat to establish a new social order, the two contracting parties assert solemnly the rights of these peoples to freedom, independence, and free choice of the forms of government under which they shall live.”[4]

No more complete disavowal of Russian imperialism could be desired by the New Turkey. It is by no means certain, however, that Russia will continue indefinitely to pursue so magnanimous a policy in the Near East. With the development of her natural resources and the extension of industrialism, it is not improbable that Russia—in common with the other Great Powers—will once again feel the urge to imperialism. Raw materials, markets, the maintenance of unimpeded routes of commercial communication, and opportunities for profitable investment of capital are likely to be considered—in the present anarchic state of international relations—as essential to an industrial state under working-class government as to an industrial state under bourgeois administration. If such be the case, Russian economic penetration in Turkey and Persia may be resumed, and Russian eyes may once more be cast covetously at Constantinople. “In Mongolia and Tibet, in Persia and Afghanistan, in Caucasia and at Constantinople, the Russian has been pressing forward for three hundred years,” writes an eminent American geographer, “and no system of government can stand that denies him proper commercial outlets.”[5]

Nevertheless, whatever be the future policy of Russia in the Near East, for the present the Russian Republic has no economic or strategic interests which are inconsistent with the national development of the Turkish people. Certainly Russia has neither the economic nor the political resources to demand a share in the Bagdad Railway or to seek for herself other railway concessions in Anatolia. And the Western Powers are little likely to heed the wishes of the Soviet Government until such time as those wishes are rendered articulate in a language the Western Powers understand—the language of power.

FRANCE STEALS A MARCH AND IS ACCOMPANIED BY ITALY

Those who believed that the defeat of Germany and the withdrawal of Russia would solve all problems of competitive imperialism in the Near East were destined to be disillusioned. For no sooner was the war over than France and Great Britain took to pursuing divergent policies regarding Turkey. The rivalry between these two powers—which had been terminated for a time by the Entente of 1904—was resumed in all its former intensity. The Entente, in fact, had been formed because of common fear of Germany, rather than because of coincidence of colonial interests; and with that fear removed, the foundation of effective coöperation had been undermined.[6] The Great War may be said to have terminated the first episode of the great Bagdad Railway drama—the rise and fall of German power in the Near East; it opened a second episode, which promises to be equally portentous—an Anglo-French struggle for the right of accession to the exalted position which Germany formerly occupied in the realm of the Turks.

Anglo-French rivalry in the Near East will not be an unprecedented phenomenon. “Since the Congress of Vienna in 1814, France and Great Britain have never fought in the Levant with naval and military weapons (though they have several times been on the verge of open war), but their struggle has been real and bitter for all that, and though it has not here gone the length of empire-building, it has not been confined to trade. Its characteristic fields have been diplomacy and culture, its entrenchments embassies, consulates, religious missions, and schools. It has flared up on the Upper Nile, in Egypt, on the Isthmus of Suez, in Palestine, in the Lebanon, at Mosul, at the Dardanelles, at Salonica, in Constantinople. The crises of 1839–41 and 1882 over Egypt and of 1898 over the Egyptian Sudan are landmarks on a road that has never been smooth, for conflicts [of one sort or another] have perpetually kept alive the combative instinct in French and English missionaries, schoolmasters, consuls, diplomatists, civil servants, ministers of state, and journalists. One cannot understand—or make allowances for—the post-war relations of the French and British Governments over the ‘Eastern Question’ unless one realizes this tradition of rivalry and its accumulated inheritance of suspicion and resentment. It is a bad mental background for the individuals who have to represent the two countries. The French are perhaps more affected by it than the English, because on the whole they have had the worst of the struggle in the Levant as well as in India, and failure cuts deeper memories than success.”[7]

French statesmen were dissatisfied with the division of the spoils of war in the Near East. They had a feeling that here, as elsewhere, Britain had obtained the lion’s share. They believed that Mr. Lloyd George had been guilty of sharp practice in his agreement of December, 1918, with M. Clémenceau, by the terms of which Mosul and Palestine were to be turned over to Great Britain.[8] Frenchmen were suspicious of British solicitude for the Arabs, which they believed was not based upon disinterested benevolence; in fact, self-determination for the Arabs came to be considered a political move to render precarious the French mandate for Syria. French patriots chafed at British emphasis upon the fact that “the British had done the fighting in Turkey almost without French help” and that “there would have been no question of Syria but for England and the million soldiers the British Empire had put in the field against the Turks.” French pride was hurt by the rapid rise of British prestige in a region where France had so many interests. And prestige—diplomatic, military, religious, cultural, and economic—has always been an important desideratum in Near Eastern diplomacy.[9]

French dissatisfaction with the Turkish settlement was one of the issues of the San Remo Conference of April, 1920, at which were assigned the mandates for the territories of the former Ottoman Empire. Exclusive control by Great Britain of the oilfields of the Mosul district was so vigorously contested that M. Philippe Berthelot, of the French Foreign Office, and Professor Sir John Cadman, Director of His Majesty’s Petroleum Department, were instructed to work out a compromise. Thus came into existence the San Remo Oil Agreement of April 24, 1920, by which Great Britain, in effect, assigned to France the former German interest in the Turkish Petroleum Company’s concession for exploitation of the oilfields in the vilayets of Mosul and Bagdad.[10] But the British drove a shrewd bargain, for it was provided, in consideration, that the French Government should agree, “as soon as application is made, to the construction of two separate pipe-lines and railways necessary for their construction and maintenance and for the transport of oil from Mesopotamia and Persia through French spheres of influence to a port or ports on the Mediterranean.” The oil thus transported was to be free of all French taxes.[11]

French imperialists likewise were dissatisfied with the disposition of the Bagdad Railway as provided for by the unratified Sèvres Treaty. French bankers had held a thirty per cent interest in the Bagdad line while it was under German control,[12] and they believed, for this reason, that they were entitled to a controlling voice in the enterprise when it should be reorganized by the Allies. Although the settlement at Sèvres—the Treaty of Peace with Turkey and the Tripartite Agreement between Great Britain, France, and Italy—recognized the special interests of France in the Bagdad Railway, and particularly in the Mersina-Adana branch, it provided, as has been seen, for international ownership, control, and operation.[13] Now, Frenchmen were suspicious of internationalization, particularly where British participation was involved. Had not the condominium in Egypt proved to be a step in the direction of an eventual British protectorate? Might not the history of the Suez Canal be repeated in the history of the Bagdad Railway? Would Great Britain look with any greater equanimity upon French, than upon German, interests in one of the great highways to India? To answer these questions was but to increase the French feeling of insecurity.

French dissatisfaction with the distribution of the spoils in the Near East and French fear of British imperial power and prestige—these were factors in a new alignment of the diplomatic forces in Turkey during 1920–1922. British imperialists were desirous of keeping Turkey weak. A weak Turkey could never again menace Britain’s communications in the Persian Gulf and at Suez; a weak Turkey could be of no moral or material assistance to restless Moslems in Egypt and India. To keep Turkey weak the Treaty of Sèvres had loaded down the Ottoman Treasury with an enormous burden of reparations and occupation costs (to which France could not object without repudiating the principle of reparations); had taken away Turkish administration of Smyrna and Constantinople, the two ports essential to the commercial life of Anatolia; and had made possible a Greek war of devastation and extermination in the homeland of the Turks. France, on the other hand, would have preferred to see Turkey reasonably strong. A strong, prosperous Turkey would the more readily pay off its pre-War debt, of which French investors held approximately sixty per cent; payment of this debt was more important to France than payment of Turkish reparations. A strong Turkey, furthermore, might fortify the French position in the Near East. As Germany had utilized Ottoman strength against Russia and Great Britain, so France might utilize Nationalist Turkey against a Bolshevist Russia which would not pay its debts or an imperial Britain which might prove unfaithful to the Entente.[14]

Anglo-French differences in the Near East were brought to a head by the rapid rise of the military power of the Angora Government, for it was against France that Mustapha Kemal’s troops launched their principal early attacks. General Gouraud—his hands tied by an Arab rebellion which had necessitated a considerable extension of his lines in Syria—was unable to repulse the Turkish invasion of Cilicia, which reached really serious proportions in the autumn of 1920. Time and again French units were defeated and French garrisons massacred by the victorious Nationalists. In these circumstances, France “had to choose between the two following alternatives: either to maintain her effectives and to continue the war in Cilicia, or to negotiate with the _de facto_ authority which was in command of the Turkish troops in that region.” The French armies in Syria and Cilicia already numbered more than 100,000 men; to reënforce them would have been to flout the opinion of the nation and the Chamber, “which had vigorously expressed their determination to put an end to cruel bloodshed and to expenditure which it was particularly difficult to bear.” To negotiate with Mustapha Kemal was, to all intents and purposes, to scrap the unratified Treaty of Sèvres. The French Government chose the latter alternative. It is said that during the London Conference of February-March, 1921, “M. Briand declared to Mr. Lloyd George on several occasions, without the British Prime Minister making the slightest observation, that he would not leave England without having concluded an agreement with the Angora delegation. M. Briand pointed out that neither the Chamber nor French public opinion would agree to the prolongation of hostilities, involving as they did losses which were both heavy and useless.”[15]

Accordingly, on March 9, 1921, there was signed at London a Franco-Turkish agreement terminating hostilities in Cilicia. The Turkish Nationalists recognized the special religious and cultural interests of France in Turkey and granted priority to French capitalists in the awarding of concessions in Cilicia and southern Armenia. French interests in the Bagdad Railway were confirmed. In return, France was to evacuate Cilicia, to readjust the boundary between Turkey and Syria, and to adopt a more friendly attitude toward the Government of the Grand National Assembly.[16]

The Italian Government was only too glad to have so excellent an excuse for throwing over the Treaty of Sèvres, which had thoroughly frustrated Italian hopes in Asia Minor to the advantage of Greece. Italian troops, furthermore, had been driven out of Konia and were finding their hold in Adalia increasingly precarious; the Italian Government had neither the disposition nor the resources to wage war. Therefore, on March 13, 1921, the Italian and Turkish ministers of foreign affairs signed at London a separate treaty, providing for “economic collaboration” between Turkey and Italy in the hinterland of Adalia, including part of the sanjaks of Konia, Aidin, and Afiun Karahissar, as well as for the award to an Italian group of the concession for the Heraclea coal mines.[17] The Royal Italian Government pledged itself to “support effectively all the demands of the Turkish delegation relative to the peace treaty,” more especially the demands of Turkey for complete sovereignty and for the restitution of Thrace and Smyrna. Italian troops were to be withdrawn from Ottoman soil.[18]

During the summer of 1921 further negotiations were conducted between France and Turkey for the purpose of elaborating and confirming their March agreement. The outcome was the so-called Angora Treaty, signed October 20, 1921, by M. Henri Franklin-Bouillon, a special agent of the French Government, and Yussuf Kemal Bey, Minister of Foreign Affairs in the Government of the Grand National Assembly. This treaty formally brought to an end the state of war between the two countries, provided for the repatriation of all prisoners, defined new boundaries between Turkey and Syria, and awarded valuable economic privileges to French capitalists. It obligated the French Government “to make every effort to settle in a spirit of cordial agreement all questions relating to the independence and sovereignty of Turkey.”[19]

The Bagdad Railway was given a great deal of consideration in the Angora Treaty. The Turks wanted possession of the line because of its great political and strategic value; French capitalists sought full recognition of their previous investments in the railway, together with a controlling interest in its operation. A solution was reached which fully satisfied both Turkish Nationalists and French imperialists. The Turco-Syrian boundary was so “rectified” that the Bagdad Railway from Haidar Pasha to Nisibin was to lie within Turkish territory, whereas formerly the sections from the Cilician Gates to Nisibin lay within the French mandate for Cilicia and Syria.[20] In return for these territorial readjustments the Turkish Government assigned to a French group (to be nominated by the French Government) the _Deutsche Bank’s_ concession for those sections of the railway, including branches, between Bozanti and Nisibin, “together with all the rights, privileges, and advantages attached to that concession.” The Government of the Grand National Assembly, furthermore, declared itself “ready to examine in the most favorable spirit all other desires that may be expressed by French groups relative to mine, railway, harbor and river concessions, on condition that such desires shall conform to the reciprocal interest of Turkey and France.” In particular, the Turkish Government agreed to take under advisement the award to French capitalists of concessions for the exploitation of the Arghana copper mines and for the development of cotton-growing in Cilicia.[21]

Thus France sought to make herself heir to the former German estate in Asiatic Turkey. Her capitalists became the recipients of the kilometric guarantee for which German concessionaires had been so freely criticized. And in some respects the conditions of French tenancy were questionable. The old Bagdad Railway concession had prohibited the Germans, under any and all circumstances to grant discriminatory rates or service to any passenger or shipper.[22] The conditions of French control of the line, however, recognized only a limited application of the principle of the “open door”: “Over this section and its branches,” reads Article 10 of the Angora Treaty, “no preferential tariff shall be established _in principle_. Each Government, however, _reserves the right to study in concert with the other any exception to this rule which may become necessary. In case agreement proves impossible, each party will be free to act as he thinks best._”[23]

During the spring of 1922 the concession for the operation of the French sections of the Bagdad Railway, as defined by the Angora Treaty, was assigned to the Cilician-Syrian Railway Company (_La société d’exploitation des chemins de fers de Cilicie-Nord Syrie_.) The Mesopotamian sections of the line, from Basra to Bagdad and Samarra, were under the jurisdiction of the British Civil Administration for Irak. From Haidar Pasha to the Cilician Gates the Railway was being operated by the Turkish Nationalist Government, although its utilization for commercial purposes was seriously curtailed by the Greco-Turkish War.[24]

BRITISH INTERESTS ACQUIRE A CLAIM TO THE BAGDAD RAILWAY

The Angora Treaty met with a distinctly heated reception from the British Government. During November and December, 1921, Lord Curzon carried on a lengthy correspondence with the French Embassy at London, in which he made it perfectly plain that the British Government considered the Franklin-Bouillon treaty a breach of good faith on the part of France, in the light of which Great Britain must possess greater freedom of action than would otherwise be the case.[25]

Lord Curzon called into question the moral right of the French Government to enter into separate understandings with Turkey or to recognize the Angora Assembly as the _de jure_ government of the country. He insisted that a revision of the frontier of northern Syria “could not be regarded as the concern of France alone”:

“It hands back to Turkey a large and fertile extent of territory which had been conquered from her by British forces and which constituted a common gage of allied victory, although by an arrangement between the Allies the mandate has been awarded to France. The mandate is now under consideration by the League of Nations, and this important and far-reaching modification of the territory to which it applies altogether ignores the League of Nations, while the return to Turkey of territory handed over to the Allies in common without previous notification to Great Britain and Italy is inconsistent with both the spirit and the letter of the treaties which all three have signed.

“Further, the revision provides for handing back to Turkey the localities of Nisibin and Jezirit-ibn-Omar, both of which are of great strategic importance in relation to Mosul and Mesopotamia; the same consideration applies to the handing back to Turkey of the track of the Bagdad Railway between Tchoban Bey and Nisibin.... His Majesty’s Government cannot remain indifferent to the manifest strategic importance to their position in Irak of the return to Turkey of the Bagdad Railway or of the transfer to that power of the localities of Jezirit-ibn-Omar and Nisibin.”

In addition to disputing the territorial readjustments contemplated by the Angora Treaty, the British Government challenged the transfer to French capitalists of the former German concession for the Bozanti-Nisibin sections of the Bagdad Railway. Lord Curzon pointed out that Great Britain would not recognize the Franco-Turkish treaty as overriding the Treaty of Sèvres, “whereby Turkey was herself to liquidate the whole Bagdad Railway on the demand of the principal Allies”; neither would the British Government assent to the award to France of “a large portion of the railway without regard to the claims of her other allies upon a concern which both under the Treaty of Versailles and the Treaty of Sèvres is the Allies’ common asset.”[26]

“Apart from the immediate and premature advantage gained by France by this transfer of a large portion of the Bagdad line to a French company in advance—and therefore possibly to the prejudice—of the reciprocal allied arrangements contemplated by Article 294 of the Treaty of Sèvres and Article 4 of the Tripartite Agreement, it is necessary to point out that these stretches of the railway which were previously in Syria, but are now surrendered to Turkey, although placed in the French zone of economic interest, ought naturally to be divided among the Allies in accordance with the above mentioned treaties.... The transfer to a French company of that part of the railway which still remains in Syria does not in itself fulfil the provisions of the Treaty of Sèvres, which stipulates for liquidation by the mandatory and the assignment of the proceeds to the Financial Commission as an allied asset.”

The correspondence was concluded by Lord Curzon with emphatic statements that “when peace is finally concluded the different agreements which have been negotiated up to date, including the Angora Agreement, will require to be adjusted with a view to taking their place in a general settlement”; that he was obliged “explicitly to reserve the attitude of His Majesty’s Government with regard to the Angora Agreement”; and that there must especially be reserved for further discussion “all articles of the Agreement which appear to infringe the provisions of the Treaty of Sèvres and the Tripartite Agreement.

Subsequent events did nothing to restore Anglo-French unity in the Near East. At the Washington Conference in December, 1921, Lord Lee and M. Briand engaged in a verbal war over submarines which created no little hard feeling and suspicion in both Great Britain and France. Differences of opinion regarding Russia and other questions discussed at the Genoa Conference, together with a clash over reparations in midsummer, 1922, strained relations still further. Charges by Greeks and Englishmen that France and Italy were supplying munitions to the Turkish Nationalists were received with counter-charges that British officers were aboard Greek warships and that British “observers” were directing Greek military operations in Asia Minor.[27] Feeling ran high in September, 1922, when—seeking to avoid a Near Eastern war—the French and Italian Governments withdrew their troops from the Neutral Zone of the Straits, leaving the British forces to face, alone, the victorious Nationalist army of Mustapha Kemal Pasha. British patriots were further irritated by the mysterious activities of M. Henri Franklin-Bouillon in the negotiations preceding the Mudania armistice and by the claims of the Paris press to a great victory thereby for French prestige at Angora and Constantinople. Fundamental differences of opinion regarding reparations—culminating in the French invasion of the Ruhr in January, 1923—made still more difficult coöperation by the former Allies in the Near East. In fact, it might be questioned whether the Entente Cordiale any longer existed.

This situation was brought into sharp relief at the first Lausanne Conference for Peace in the East.[28] Great Britain’s interests were chiefly territorial. She had abandoned all hope of destroying Turkish power by creating a Greek empire in Asia Minor; Greece was gone from Smyrna for good. But England was determined to maintain her hold in Mesopotamia—particularly in the oilfields of Mosul—and to hold out for neutralization of the Straits. These territorial questions occupied the major part of the first six weeks of the Conference. France had no interest in the decisions regarding the Straits and Mosul; therefore she supported the Turks and placed Lord Curzon in the position of appearing to be the real opponent of Turkish Nationalist ambitions and the principal obstacle in the way of an equitable settlement. Lord Curzon himself strengthened this impression, for many of his utterances were provocative and bombastic in the extreme—apparently he would not give up the idea that the Turks could be bluffed and bullied into submission.

While the conference as a whole was debating territorial questions and problems concerning the rights of minorities, a member of the French delegation was presiding over the sessions of the all-important Committee on Financial and Economic Issues. It was in this committee that questions of the Ottoman Public Debt and of concessions were to be threshed out; therefore it was in this committee that French imperialists hoped to achieve real successes. And while France was framing the economic sections of the treaty, her co-worker Italy was supervising the work of the Committee on the Status of Foreigners in Turkey, to determine the conditions upon which French and Italian schools and missions should continue their activities in Asia Minor. In this manner France hoped to protect adequately her economic and cultural interests in the Near East.

As the work of these committees progressed, the Turks became more and more suspicious of French aims. The Nationalist delegates—including Djavid Bey—were mindful of the price which their country had had to pay because of its economic exploitation by Germany, and they were determined not to permit another European Power to succeed to the position which Germany had left vacant. Friction developed, therefore, as soon as concessions came up for consideration. The French delegation asked for the incorporation in the treaty of provisions confirming all concessions to Allied nationals whether granted by the old Ottoman Government before the War, or by the Constantinople Government after the armistice, or by mandatory powers in territory subsequently evacuated (as in Cilicia, Smyrna, and Adalia). The Turks objected that they were not aware of the nature, the number and extent, or the beneficiaries of the concessions coming within the last two categories; confirmation of such would have to be the subject of independent investigation and negotiation, for the Turks would not sign any blank checks at Lausanne. They doubted whether they could accept the financial burden which would be involved in validating concessions granted by the Sultan’s Government before the War, especially if the National Assembly was to be obliged to honor Ottoman pre-War debts in full. In any case, the Turkish delegates insisted, no concessions would be confirmed if they in any way limited the sovereignty of Turkey or infringed upon its financial and administrative integrity. Between the French and Turkish views was a chasm which it would be difficult, indeed, to bridge. The French stood upon the rock of the old imperialism; the Turks were fortified in their new nationalism. The French were seeking to intrench certain important vested interests; the Turks were striving to preserve a precious independence, recently won at great price.

In these circumstances, it was to be expected that the British and the Turks should seek to effect an understanding. The claims of Great Britain, it appeared, were more easily reconcilable with the Turkish program than were the claims of France. Concessions obtained by British nationals between 1910 and 1914 were largely in areas detached from Turkey during the War—chiefly in Mesopotamia—whereas many of the most important French concessions were in Anatolia, the stronghold of the Turkish Nationalists.[29] To Great Britain, therefore, it was a matter of comparative indifference whether all concessions within Turkey were specifically confirmed; to France it was a matter of the utmost importance. According to the proposed Lausanne treaty the Turkish Government was to expropriate the former German railways in Turkey, with a view to incorporating them into a state-owned system, and was to pay therefor to the Financial Commission, on reparations account, a sum to be fixed by an arbitrator appointed by the League of Nations.[30] It suited British interests thus to prevent a rival Power from obtaining control of the former Bagdad line; it suited French interests not at all to be deprived of a considerable share in a highly important enterprise. In the settlement of questions regarding the Ottoman Public Debt, likewise, the French were more obdurate than the British.

In the closing days of the conference, the question of Mosul and its oilfields—the last question which stood in the way of an Anglo-Turkish agreement—was temporarily settled by a decision to make it the subject of “direct and friendly negotiations between the two interested Powers.” But no agreement was possible between Turkey and France on concessions and capitulations. When the first Lausanne Conference broke up, therefore, it was because of the determination of the Turks not to accept economic, financial, and judicial clauses which they believed menaced their independence. “The treaty,” said Ismet Pasha, head of the Turkish delegation, “would strangle Turkey economically. I refuse to accept economic slavery for my country, and the demands of the Allies remove all possibility of economic rehabilitation and kill all our hopes.” On the other hand, the refusal of the Turks to sign was characterized by the chief of the French delegates as “a crime.”[31]

During the interim between the first and second Lausanne conferences French prestige in the Near East was dealt some severe blows. The Turkish press attacked the French Government for having insisted upon concessions and capitulations which were designed to keep Turkey under foreign domination in the interest of bondholders and promoters. Such conduct, it was pointed out, was altogether inconsistent with the terms of the Angora Treaty by which France agreed “to make every effort to settle in a spirit of cordial agreement all questions relating to the independence and sovereignty of Turkey.”[32] In the National Assembly hostility to French claims was so pronounced that no further action was taken toward the ratification of the Angora Treaty—and without such ratification the French title to certain sections of the Bagdad Railway would be invalid. The Turkish army on the Syrian frontier was reënforced for the purpose of bringing home to France the determination of the Angora Government to tolerate no foreign interference in its domestic affairs. The situation in Syria became so serious that M. Poincaré saw fit to despatch to Beirut one of Marshal Foch’s right-hand men, General Weygand, as commander-in-chief in Syria.

The breach between France and Turkey was widened when, on April 10, 1923, the Angora Government awarded to an American syndicate headed by Admiral Colby M. Chester, a retired officer of the United States Navy, concessions for almost three thousand miles of railway, together with valuable rights to the exploitation of the mineral resources of Anatolia.[33] The Chester concessions conflicted with certain French claims which had been under discussion at the first Lausanne Conference: the concession for a Black Sea railway system, which had been conferred upon French capitalists in 1913; and rights to the Arghana copper mines, to which a French group had been given a kind of priority under the Angora Treaty of 1921.[34] In part, at least, the award of the Chester concessions at this particular time was a shrewd political move on the part of the Nationalist Government. It was designed to serve notice on France that no treaty would be acceptable to Turkey which would require complete confirmation of pre-War concessions; from this decision there could be no departure without infringing upon American rights and without recognizing the acts of a former Sultan as superior to acts of the new government of Turkey. It was intended, also, to win for the Turks a measure of American diplomatic support. That the French Government understood the implications of the Chester concessions is evidenced by the fact that the Foreign Office despatched to Angora a note which characterized the award as “a deliberately unfriendly act, of a nature to influence adversely the coming negotiations at Lausanne.”[35]

When the second Lausanne Conference convened on April 22, 1923, therefore, it was France, not Great Britain, which was on the defensive. And the French position became steadily worse, rather than better. On May 15, it was announced that a syndicate of British banks had purchased a controlling interest in the _Bank für orientalischen Eisenbahnen_, of Zurich, the _Deutsche Bank’s_ holding company for the Anatolian and Bagdad Railway Companies. Ismet Pasha, it was said, was kept fully informed of the British plans and expressed his pleasure at the consummation of the transaction. Thus, after twenty years of diplomatic bargaining, British imperialists had won possession of the “short cut to India”![36] Should Great Britain succeed in establishing her point that the _Bank für orientalischen Eisenbahnen_ is a neutral Swiss, rather than enemy German, corporation and therefore exempt from seizure under the reparations provisions of the Treaty of Versailles; and should the Chester concessions be recognized as superseding the rights of the Black Sea Railways, French interests in the Levant will face a powerful Anglo-American competition which it will be very difficult for them to combat with any degree of success.[37] And the power of the French Government is so heavily invested in the Ruhr occupation that it is doubtful if it can do anything at all to coerce the Turks into full recognition of French claims.

Kaleidoscopic indeed have been the changes in the Near East since the outbreak of the Great War in 1914. The economic and political power of Germany in Anatolia, Syria, and Mesopotamia has been completely destroyed. The Ottoman Empire has disappeared, and in its place has risen a republican Nationalist Turkey. Tsarist Russia, with its consuming desire for aggrandizement in the Caucasus, in Asia Minor, and at the Straits, has given way to a proletarian Russia which foreswears imperialist ambition. Italy, which sought to transform the Adriatic and the Ægean into Italian lakes, has finally been compelled to recognize that she assumed imperial liabilities out of all proportion to her economic resources. France, after achieving a temporary victory in the New Turkey, has had to surrender her position to more powerful competitors. But Great Britain has emerged from the conflict in all her glory. She has obtained possession of another highway to the East. Alongside the Suez Canal, in the collection of British imperial jewels, will be placed the Bagdad Railway; alongside of Malta and Gibraltar and Cyprus must be placed Jerusalem and Basra and Bagdad.

No less remarkable than all these changes, however, is the entry of American interests into the tangled problem of the Near East.

AMERICA EMBARKS UPON AN UNCHARTED SEA

The Great War was accompanied by a definite growth of American prestige in the Near East. After the entry of Turkey into the war against the Allied Powers, American schools and missions were left practically a free hand in the Ottoman Empire; and inasmuch as the United States did not declare war against Turkey, American institutions were not disturbed even after 1917. Carrying on their work under the most trying circumstances, these educational and philanthropic enterprises established a still greater reputation than they formerly possessed for efficient and disinterested service. In consequence, an American official mission to the Near East in 1919 was able to report that the moral influence of the United States in that region of the world was greater than that of any other Power. President Wilson was looked upon as the champion of small nations and oppressed peoples. Americans were considered to be charitable and generous to a fault. The United States was hailed as the only nation which had entered the war for unselfish purposes.[38]

Since the armistice of 1918 events have not materially decreased the prestige which the War built up. “From Adrianople to Amritsar, and from Tiflis to Aden, America is considered a friend. It has become a tradition in the Near East to interpret every action of the European Powers as an attempt at political domination. America is the only power considered strong enough to provide the Orient with the capital and expert knowledge for its industrial development, without aiming at more than a legitimate profit. The Oriental feels that he needs coöperation with the West; but he is anxious to restrict that coöperation to the economic field. And he considers the United States the only power which would replace Europe’s political ambitions by a sound, matter-of-fact, and sincere economic policy.”[39]

During the Great War the economic situation of the United States underwent certain fundamental changes which seem to forecast increasing American interest in imperialism. Before the War, America was practically self-sufficient in raw materials; its export trade was composed very largely of foodstuffs and raw materials which found a ready market in the great industrial nations of Europe; financially, it was a debtor, not a creditor, nation. The enormous industrial expansion of the United States during the Great War, however, has changed these conditions. Raw materials have become an increasingly greater proportion of the nation’s import trade, and American business men are becoming concerned about foreign control of certain essential commodities such as rubber, nitrates, chrome, and petroleum. American export trade has experienced an unparalleled period of expansion, and American manufactured articles are competing in world markets which formerly were the exclusive preserves of European nations. Furthermore, the export of American capital has almost kept pace with the export of American goods, so that by 1920 the United States had taken its place alongside Great Britain and France as one of the great creditor nations of the world. As time goes on American business will be reaching out over the world for a fair share of the earth’s resources in raw materials, for new markets capable of development, and for opportunities for the profitable investment of capital.[40]

These new tendencies were quickly reflected in American relations with the Near East. As early as the spring of 1920 the Government of the United States was engaged in a lengthy correspondence with His Britannic Majesty’s Government regarding the right of American capital to participate in the exploitation of the oil resources of Mesopotamia.[41] About the same time the Guaranty Trust Company of New York—the second largest bank in the United States—established a branch in Constantinople and proceeded to inform American business men regarding the opportunities for commercial expansion in the Near East. In a booklet entitled _Trading with the Near East—Present Conditions and Future Prospects_, the bank had this to say:

“The establishing of a Constantinople branch of the Guaranty Trust Company of New York brings forcibly to mind the growing importance of the Near East to American foreign trade. Up to the present time American business in Constantinople has been seriously handicapped by the absence of American banking facilities. Our traders were forced to rely on British, French, or other foreign banks for their financial transactions. This was not only inconvenient, but it was devoid of that business secrecy which is so necessary in exploiting new fields.

“Before the war merchandise from the United States was a negligible factor in the business life of Constantinople, and a vessel flying the Stars and Stripes was a rare sight. Today one will find four or five American liners in the Golden Horn at all times.... Today a dozen important American corporations have permanent offices there, and many other American concerns are represented by local agents.

“The future possibilities of imports from and exports to the Eastern Mediterranean, the Sea of Marmora, and the Black Sea ports from the United States are of almost unbelievable proportions. These entire sections must be fed, clothed, and largely rehabilitated. Roads, ports, railways, and public works of all kinds are needed everywhere. The merchants of the Near East have valuable raw products to send us in exchange for the manufactured goods which they so urgently need.“

This estimate of the situation was confirmed by the American Chamber of Commerce for the Levant when, in urging upon the Department of State the vigorous defence of the “open door” in Turkey, it said: “The opportunities for the expansion of American interests in the Near East are practically unlimited, provided there is a fair field open for individual enterprise.... In fact, with the conclusion of peace, there is the economic structure of an empire to be developed.”[42]

The rapid development of American economic interests in Turkey can be most effectively presented by reference to the trade statistics. American exports to Turkey at the opening of the twentieth century amounted to only $50,000. In 1913 they had risen to $3,500,000. But between 1913 and 1920 they showed a phenomenal increase of over twelve hundred per cent, reaching the sum of $42,200,000. Nor was this trade one sided, for during the period 1913–1920, American imports from Turkey increased from $22,100,000 to $39,600,000.[43]

The Chester concessions are another important step in the development of a new American policy in the Near East. They provide for the construction by the Ottoman-American Development Company—a Turkish corporation owned and administered by Americans—of approximately 2800 miles of railways, of which the following are the most important:

1. An extension of the old Anatolian Railway from Angora to Sivas, with a branch to the port of Samsun, on the Black Sea.

2. A line from Sivas to Erzerum and on to the Persian and Russian frontiers, with branches to the Black Sea ports of Tireboli and Trebizond.

3. A line from Oulu Kishla, on the Bagdad Railway, to Sivas _via_ Kaisarieh.

4. A trans-Armenian railway from Sivas to Kharput, Arghana, Diarbekr, Mosul, and Suleimanieh, including branches to Bitlis and Van.

5. A railway from Kharput to Youmourtalik, a port on the Gulf of Alexandretta.

No more elaborate project for railway construction in Asiatic Turkey has ever been incorporated in a definitive concession. That it should be entrusted to American promoters and American engineers is one of the most significant developments in the long and involved history of the Eastern Question.

But the Chester concessions do not stop at railway construction alone. As in the case of the Bagdad Railway, the Turkish Government is obliged to offer the financiers powerful inducements to the investment of capital in railway enterprises which, in themselves, may be unremunerative for a time. The German promoters of the Bagdad Railway obtained a kilometric guarantee, or subsidy; the American promoters of the Chester lines are granted exclusive rights to the exploitation of all mineral resources, including oil, lying within a zone of twenty kilometres on each side of the railway lines. The Bagdad Railway mortgaged the revenues of Imperial Turkey; the Chester concessions mortgage the natural resources of Nationalist Turkey. The Ottoman-American Development Company, furthermore, is authorized to carry out important enterprises subsidiary to the construction of the railway lines and the exploitation of the mines aforementioned. It may, for example, lay such pipe lines as are necessary to the proper development of the petroleum wells lying within its zone of operations. It is permitted to utilize water-power along the line of its railways and to install hydro-electric stations for the service of its mines, ports, or railways. It is required to construct elaborate port and terminal facilities at Samsun, on the Black Sea, and at Youmourtalik, on the Gulf of Alexandretta.

There are other respects in which the terms of the Chester grant are strikingly similar to those of the Bagdad Railway concession of March 5, 1903.[44] Lands owned by the Turkish Government and needed for right-of-way, terminal facilities, or exploitation of mineral resources are transferred to the Ottoman-American Development Company, free of charge, for the period of the concession (ninety-nine years). Public lands required for construction purposes—including sand-pits, gravel-pits, and quarries—may be utilized without rental, and wood and timber may be cut from State-owned forests without compensation. As public utilities, the Chester enterprises are granted full rights of expropriation of such privately owned land as may be necessary for purposes of construction or operation. Like the _Deutsche Bank_, the Ottoman-American Development Company is granted sweeping exemption from taxation, as follows: “The materials, machines, coal, and other commodities required for the construction operations of the Company, whether purchased in Turkey or imported from abroad, shall be exempt from all customs duties or other tax. The coal imported for the operation of the [railway] lines shall be exempt from customs duties for a period of twenty years, dating from the ratification of the present agreement. For the entire duration of the concession the lines and ports constructed by the Company, as well as its capital and revenues, shall be exempt from all imposts.”[45]

From the Turkish point of view, the Chester concessions may be justified on the grounds that the new railways will bring political stability to Anatolia[46] and will initiate an era of unprecedented economic progress. From the point of view of those American interests which believe in the stimulation of foreign trade, likewise, the Chester project has much to commend it. Exploitation of the oilfields of the vilayets of Erzerum, Bitlis, Van, and Mosul, and the development of the mineral resources of Armenia—including the valuable Arghana copper mines—will provide rich sources of supply of raw materials. In the construction of railways, ports, and pipe lines there will be a considerable demand for American steel products. Economic development of the vast region through which the new railways will pass promises to furnish a market for American products, such as agricultural machinery, and to offer ample opportunity for the profitable investment of American capital. The Chester project may well become an imperial enterprise of the first rank.

With the exception of the temporary advantage which they hoped to gain at the second Lausanne Conference, the Turkish Government wished no political importance to be attached to the Chester concessions. As Abdul Hamid had awarded the Anatolian and Bagdad Railway concessions to a German company because he believed Germans would be less likely to associate political aims with their economic privileges, so the Government of the National Assembly has awarded the Chester concessions to an American syndicate because Turkish Nationalists are convinced that Americans have no political interests in Turkey. This was made clear by Dr. I. Fouad Bey, a member of the National Assembly, in a semi-official visit to the United States during April, 1923. “We Turks wish to develop our country,” he said. “We need foreign coöperation to develop it. We cannot do without this coöperation. Now, there are two kinds of foreign coöperation. There is the foreign coöperation that is coupled with foreign political domination—coöperation that brings profit only to the foreign investor. We have had enough of that kind. There is another kind of coöperation—the kind we conceive the Chester project and other American enterprises to be. This kind of coöperation is a business enterprise and has no imperialistic aim. It is a form of coöperation designed to profit both America and Turkey, and not to invade Turkish sovereignty and Turkish political interests in any way. That is why we prefer American coöperation. That is why the Grand National Assembly at Angora is prepared to welcome American capital with open arms and secure it in all its rights.”[47]

These sentiments found a ready echo among American merchants. At a dinner given in honor of Dr. Fouad Bey by the American Federated Chambers of Commerce for the Near East, one of the speakers said: “Turkey, in our opinion, is destined to have a magnificent future. It is on the threshold of a new and great era. Its extraordinary resources, amazingly rich, are practically untouched. Although in remote ages of antiquity these vast regions played a great rôle in history, they have for many centuries lain practically fallow. The tools, appliances, machinery and methods which have been so highly perfected in the United States are appropriate to and will be needed for the development of this marvelous latent wealth. Our capital likewise can be very helpful. The members of our Chamber of Commerce have a keen interest in the furtherance of trade relations between Turkey and the United States. We want both to increase the imports of its raw materials into our country and to stimulate the export of our manufactured articles to Turkey. We are inspired by no political aims. We seek no annexation of territory. We desire no exclusive privileges. Our motto, if we had one, would be ‘A fair field and no favors.’ In the development of commercial relations with Turkey, in seeking the investment of our capital there, we ask for nothing more than an open door.”[48]

The American press, likewise, is in accord with a policy of governmental non-intervention in the ramifications of the Chester project. The following editorial from the new York _World_ of April 23, 1923, is perhaps representative:

“There is no reason why the State Department should make itself the attorney for or the promoter of the Chester business enterprises. If the Angora Government has granted privileges to the Admiral’s company, then the Admiral’s business is with Angora and not with Washington.

“Certainly the American people have no more interest in taking up the Chester concessions diplomatically than they would have if the Admiral were proposing to open a candy store in Piccadilly, a dressmaking establishment in the Rue de la Paix, or a beauty parlor on the Riviera. If the Admiral and his friends wish to invest money in Turkey, they no doubt know what they are doing. They will expect profits commensurate with the risks, and they should not expect the United States Government, which will enjoy none of the profits, to insure them against the risks.”

It is difficult, nevertheless, to see how the Chester concessions, and their affiliated enterprises can be kept scrupulously free from political complications. The French Government, in defence of the interests of its nationals, has announced semi-officially that American support of the concessions might lead to “a diplomatic incident of the first importance.”[49] Furthermore, the United States Navy is said to be vitally interested in the Chester project. The oilfields to which Admiral Chester’s Ottoman-American Development Company obtain rights of exploitation may prove to be important sources of fuel supply to American destroyers operating in the Mediterranean—Mr. Denby, Secretary of the Navy, said apropos of the concessions that the Navy “is always concerned with the possibility of oil supplies.”[50] Furthermore, an American-built port at Youmourtalik, on the Gulf of Alexandretta, might conceivably be utilized as an American naval base. Such a station, less than 150 miles from Cyprus and less than 400 miles from the Suez Canal, could hardly be expected to increase the British sense of security in the Eastern Mediterranean.

The American Navy has already been very active in the Near East. “Soon after the armistice, Rear Admiral Bristol was sent to Constantinople to command the small American naval forces there. A large part of his efforts was immediately devoted to the promotion of American business in that unsettled region, including the countries bordering on the Black Sea. He soon established for himself such an influential position by sheer force of character and by his intelligent grasp of both the political and economic situations that he was appointed high commissioner by the State Department.

“Early in 1919 several American destroyers were ordered to Constantinople for duty in the Near East. Although these destroyers are good fighting ships, it costs some $4,000,000 a year to maintain them on this particular duty, which does not train the crews for use in battle.... The possible development of the economic resources of this part of the world was carefully investigated by representatives of American commercial interests. These representatives were given every assistance by the Navy, transportation furnished them to various places, and all information of commercial activities obtained by naval officers in their frequent trips around the Black Sea given them. The competition for trade in this part of the world is very keen, the various European countries using every means at their disposal to obtain preferential rates. The Navy not only assists our commercial firms to obtain business, but when business opportunities present themselves, American firms are notified and given full information on the subject. One destroyer is kept continuously at Samsun, Turkey, to look after the American tobacco interests at that port. ... The present opportunities for development of American commerce in the Near East are very great, and its permanent success will depend largely upon the continued influence of the Navy in that region.”[51] This is the situation as diagnosed by the Navy Department itself.

“With the assistance of a small force of destroyers based on Constantinople,” according to an instructor in the United States Naval Academy, “our commercial representatives are establishing themselves firmly in a trade which means millions of dollars to the farmers of the American Middle West. By utilizing the wireless of destroyers in Turkish ports, at Durazzo, and elsewhere, commercial messages have been put through without delay.... Destroyers are entering Turkish ports with ‘drummers’ as regular passengers, and their fantails piled high with American samples. An American destroyer has made a special trip at thirty knots to get American oil prospectors into a newly opened field.” Here is “dollar diplomacy” with a vengeance! “If this continues, we shall cease to take a purely academic interest in the naval problems of the Near East. These problems are concerned with the protection of commerce, the control of narrow places in the Mediterranean waterways, and the naval forces which the interested nations can bring to bear. They cannot be discussed without constant reference to political and commercial aims.”[52]

Americans would do well to take stock of this Near Eastern situation. Mustapha Kemal Pasha invites the participation of American capital in railway construction in Anatolia for substantially the same reasons which prompted Abdul Hamid to award the Bagdad Railway concession to German bankers. In 1888, Abdul Hamid considered Germany economically powerful but politically disinterested. Today, Mustapha Kemal Pasha believes that American promoters, engineers, and industrialists possess the resources and the technical skill which are required to develop and modernize Asia Minor. And, from the Turkish point of view, the political record of the United States in the Near East is a good record. America never has annexed Ottoman territory or staked out spheres of interest on Turkish soil; America has not participated in the Ottoman Public Debt Administration; America has few Mohammedan subjects and therefore is not fearful of the political strength of Pan-Islamism; America did not declare war on Turkey during the European struggle; America was not a party to the hated treaty of Sèvres. America alone among the Western Powers seems capable of becoming a sincere and disinterested friend of Turkey.[53] The avowed foreign policies of the United States appear to confirm the opinion of the Turks that Americans can be depended upon not to infringe upon Turkish sovereignty. America must be kept scrupulously free from all “foreign entanglements”; therefore an American mandate for Armenia has been firmly declined. Splendid isolation is declared to be the fundamental American principle in international affairs.

The political theory of isolation, however, is not altogether in harmony with the economic fact of American world power. The enormous expansion of American commercial and financial interests during and since the Great War brings the United States face to face with new, difficult, and complicated international problems. American business men will be increasingly interested in the backward countries of the world, in which they can purchase raw materials, to which they can sell their finished products, and in which they can invest their capital. American financiers, manufacturers, and merchants will look to their government for assistance in the extension of foreign markets and for protection in their foreign investments. Already there is grave danger that the United States may “plunge into national competitive imperialism, with all its profits and dangers, following its financiers wherever they may lead.”[54]

The situation is not unlike that which faced the German Empire in 1888. When the _Deutsche Bank_ initiated its Anatolian railway enterprises, it inquired of the German Government whether it might expect protection for its investments in Turkey. Bismarck—who desired to avoid imperialistic entanglements and to limit German political interests, as far as possible, to the continent of Europe—replied with a warning that the risk involved “must be assumed exclusively by the entrepreneurs” and that the Bank must not count upon the support of the German Government in “precarious enterprises in foreign countries.” But Bismarck’s policy did not take full cognizance of the phenomenal industrial and commercial expansion of the German Empire, whose nationals were acquiring economic interests in Asia and in Africa and on the Seven Seas. William II was more sensitive than Bismarck to the demands of German industrial, commercial, and financial interests that they be granted active governmental support and protection abroad. Bismarck tolerated German enterprises in Turkey; William II sponsored them. It was under William II, not under Bismarck, that Germany definitely entered the arena of imperial competition.[55]

The development of American interests in Turkey puts the Government of the United States to a test of statesmanship. The temptations will be numerous to lend governmental assistance to American business men against their European competitors; to utilize the new American economic position in Turkey for the acquisition of political influence; to use diplomatic pressure in securing additional commercial and financial opportunities; to emphasize the economic, at the expense of the moral, factors in Near Eastern affairs. To yield to these temptations will be to destroy the great prestige which America now possesses in the Levant by reason of disinterested social and educational service. To yield will be to forfeit the trust which Turkish nationalists have put in American hands. To yield will be to intrench the system of economic imperialism which has been the curse of the Near East for half a century. To yield will be to involve the United States in foreign entanglements more portentous than those connected with the League of Nations, or the International Court of Justice, or any other plan which has yet been suggested for American participation in the reconstruction of a devastated Europe and a turbulent Asia.

The Chester concessions may be either promise or menace. They will give promise of a new era in the Near East insofar as they contribute to the development and the prosperity of Asia Minor, without infringing upon the integrity and sovereignty of democratic Turkey, and without involving the Government of the United States in serious diplomatic controversies with other Great Powers. They will be a menace—to Turkey, to the United States, and to the peace of the world—if, unhappily, they should lead republican America in the footsteps of imperial Germany.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL AND EXPLANATORY NOTES

[1] Mufty-Zade Zia Bey, “How the Turks Feel,” in _Asia_, Volume XXII (1922), p. 857.

[2] “Declaration of the Rights of the Toiling and Exploited People,” Article III. Available in English translation in _International Conciliation_, No. 136 (New York, 1919).

[3] _Supra_, Chapter VII.

[4] The text of the Russo-Turkish Treaty of March 16, 1921, is given as an appendix to an article by A. Nazaroff, “Russia’s Treaty with Turkey,” in _Current History_, Volume XVII (1922), pp. 276–279.

[5] Bowman, _op. cit._, p. 398.

[6] _Cf._ _supra_, pp. 202–203. Professor Toynbee now speaks of this feature of the Entente in terms of contempt: “Its direct motive was covetousness, and it rested locally on nothing more substantial than the precarious honor among thieves who find their business threatened by a vigorous and talented competitor. Some of the thieves, at any rate, never got out of the habit of picking their temporary partners’ pockets.“ _Op. cit._, p. 46.

[7] _Ibid._, pp. 45–46.

[8] It seems to be established that Mr. Lloyd George compelled a readjustment of the terms of the Sykes-Picot Treaty by threatening M. Clémenceau with a complete exposure and repudiation of all of the secret treaties. _Cf._ Baker, _op. cit._, Volume I, pp. 70–72.

[9] See Minutes of the Council of Four, March 20, 1919, reported in full by Baker, _op. cit._, Volume III, Document No. 1.

[10] Regarding the claims of the Turkish Petroleum Company, _cf._ _supra_, p. 261.

[11] _Parliamentary Papers_, No. Cmd. 675 (1920). _Cf._, also, the “Franco-British Convention of December 23, 1920, on Certain Points Connected with the Mandates for Syria, the Lebanon, Palestine, and Mesopotamia,” _Parliamentary Papers_, No. Cmd. 1195 (1921). For a general discussion of the oil situation, see: H. Bérenger, _La politique du pétrole_ (Paris, 1920); F. Delaisi, _Le pétrole—La politique de la production_ (Paris, 1921); A. Apostol and A. Michelson, _La lutte pour le pétrole_ (Paris, 1922).

[12] _Cf._ _supra_, Chapter X, Note 18.

[13] _Supra_, pp. 301–302.

[14] Interesting sidelights on these points will be found in the correspondence between the French and British Governments regarding the Angora Treaty of October 20, 1921, _Parliamentary Papers_, No. Cmd. 1571, Turkey No. 1 (1922). _Cf._, also, Toynbee, _op. cit._, Chapter III, “Greece and Turkey in the Vicious Circle”; Jean Lescure, “Faut-il détruire la Turquie?” in _Revue politique et parlementaire_, Volume 103 (1920), pp. 42–48; “Where Diplomacy Failed,” _The Daily Telegraph_ (London), September 19, 1922.

[15] M. de Montille to the Marquess Curzon of Kedleston, November 17, 1921, in the official correspondence cited in Note 14.

[16] _Cf._ a statement by M. Briand regarding the purposes and the scope of the agreement, _Journal officiel, Débats parlementaires, Chambre des députés_, March 16, 1921, pp. 1272–1273. The text of the agreement is available in _Current History_, Volume XIV (1921), pp. 203–204, and in the _Contemporary Review_, Volume 119 (1921), pp. 677–679.

[17] Regarding the Heraclea coal mines _cf._ _supra_, p. 14. During the War the mines were operated by Hugo Stinnes.

[18] For the text of the Turco-Italian treaty see _L’Europe Nouvelle_ (Paris), May 28, 1921, or _The Nation_, Volume 113 (New York, 1921), p. 214. _The New York Times_, April 13, 1921, contains a good summary of the treaty and the circumstances of its negotiation.

[19] The text of the Angora Treaty is given in _Parliamentary Papers_, No. Cmd. 1556, Turkey No. 2 (1921). It has been reprinted in Current History, January, 1922. For a statement by M. Briand regarding the purposes and scope of the treaty, _cf._ _Journal officiel, Débats parlementaires, Sénat_, October 28, 1921, pp. 818–819.

[20] Aleppo remained within the French mandate for Syria, so that for a time—until the Turks construct a substitute line—through trains will have to pass through French territory for a short distance. Guarantees against interruption of either military or commercial traffic were exacted by the Turks, however. In addition, Turkey was guaranteed full use of the port of Alexandretta on a basis of absolute equality with Syria.

[21] Most of the supplementary economic concessions are provided for in a covering letter of Yussuf Kemal Bey and in an exchange of notes which coincided with the signature of the treaty. These were kept absolutely secret until December, when their contents were made known to the British Government.

[22] _Supra_, p. 83.

[23] The italics are mine. Discrimination against British trade from Mosul to Alexandretta, for example, might be used to force Great Britain to abandon many of her claims in northern Mesopotamia.

[24] _The Times_ (London), August 2, 1922; _Manchester Guardian Commercial_, August 31, 1922; _Chicago Tribune_, Paris edition, August 21, 1922.

[25] For the text of the correspondence, _cf._ _Parliamentary Papers_, No. Cmd. 1571, Turkey No. 1 (1922).

[26] _Cf._ _supra_, pp. 301–302.

[27] A not unrepresentative Greek view is the following: “Nationalist Turkey became, in a military sense, French territory. Political missions, military missions, propaganda missions, financial missions, found their way from Paris to Angora. The entire credit of the French Republic was placed behind Kemal. The warships of France and the liners of the _Messageries Maritimes_ became Turkish transports, and the French arsenals were placed at the disposal of the Turks. Once the ally of Kemal, France supported him to the fullest extent of its ability and its resources.” A. T. Polyzoides, “The Greek Collapse in Asia Minor,” in _Current History_, Volume XVII (1923), p. 35.

[28] Material regarding the Lausanne Conference is scattered and fragmentary. The text of the proposed treaty is to be found in _L’Europe Nouvelle_ (Paris), February 24 and March 10, 1923; a summary is given in _The Times_ (London), February 1, 1923. The newspaper accounts which I have used are those of _The New York Times_, _The Times_ (London), _The Manchester Guardian_, _The World_ (New York), and the _Christian Science Monitor_ (Boston). For reports and editorial comment in weekly periodicals I have consulted _The Near East_, _L’Europe Nouvelle_, _Journal des Débats_, _The New Statesman_ (London), _The Nation_ (New York). The following magazine articles have proved useful: “The Lausanne Conference,” in _Current History_, Volume XVII (1923), pp. 531–537, 743–748, 929–930; Saint-Brice, “De la Ruhr à Lausanne,” in _Correspondance d’Orient_ (Paris), February, 1923; “The Oriental Labyrinth at Lausanne,” in the _Literary Digest_, April 21, 1923, pp. 19–20; H. Froidevaux, “Les négociations de Lausanne et leur suspension,” in _L’Asie Française_, 33 year, No. 208 (Paris, 1923), pp. 8–10; J. C. Powell, “Italy at Lausanne,” in _The New Statesman_, Volume XX (1922), pp. 291–292; A. J. Toynbee, “The New Status of Turkey,” in the _Contemporary Review_, Volume 123 (1923), pp. 281–289; P. Bruneau, “La question de Mossoul,” in _L’Europe Nouvelle_, February 3, 1923, pp. 138–140. For some of my information regarding the Lausanne Conference I am indebted to Djavid Bey.

[29] _Cf._ _supra_, Chapters IX and X, _ad lib._

[30] Compare with the provisions of the Treaty of Sèvres, _supra_, pp. 301–302.

[31] _The New York Times_, February 5, 1923.

[32] _Cf._ _supra_, pp. 324–325.

[33] The Chester concessions will be treated more fully in the succeeding pages.

[34] _Supra_, pp. 245–249, 325–326. It was the Turkish contention that the Black Sea concessions were invalid for the following reasons: they were negotiated by a government for the acts of which the National Assembly assumed no responsibility; they never had been ratified by the Turkish Parliament; the French bankers had not fulfilled all the conditions upon which the concessions were predicated.

[35] _The New York Times_, April 12, 1923.

[36] Regarding the _Bank für orientalischen Eisenbahnen_, _cf._ _supra_, p. 32. Accounts of the purchase by British interests are to be found in _The New York Times_, April 28, May 15 and 16, 1923, and _The Times_ (London), May 18, 1923.

[37] The Chester concessions conflict, to a degree, with the rights of the British-owned Turkish Petroleum Company (_cf._ _supra_, Chapter X) in the vilayet of Mosul. The area in conflict is so small, compared to the total of the two concessions, however, that it is extremely doubtful if there will be any serious difficulty in reaching a satisfactory adjustment.

[38] “Report of the King-Crane Mission to the Near East,” published as a supplement to the _Editor and Publisher_, Volume 55 (New York, 1922), pp. I-XXVIII. _Cf._, also, “Report of the American Military Mission to Armenia,” Senate Document No. 266, Sixty-sixth Congress, First Session (Washington, 1920).

[39] E. J. Bing, “Chester and Turkey, Inc.,” in _The New Republic_,