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]