“It is certainly true,” he replied. “There is a saying in this part of the world that it takes two Jews to make a Greek, two Greeks to make a Levantine, and two Levantines to make an Armenian. Perhaps that explains it.”
“You mean that they are notorious beyond all words for commercial dishonesty and extortionate dealing? But is that all? That is very bad, of course; but does it explain all the bitter hate?”
“I don’t know; but I don’t believe for a moment that it is purely a hatred of Christianity. The Turks are a warlike race. They hate the pacifism of races like the Jews and the Armenians. To them it is effeminate weakness. They despise the drunkenness of Christian tribes. They are abstainers by religion. And the plundering of the peasants by Christian extortioners has done more to set the Crescent against the Cross than any preaching of Christian doctrine could have done by itself.”
“I am proposing to return to this part of the world to visit Armenia in the spring, unless the Bolsheviks from Angora capture it between now and then.”
“Well, good luck to you!” said the young Englishman. “Nothing would tempt me to go. Please remember that if half the Armenians reported to have been massacred had really died, there would not have been any Armenians left to visit!”
The Bolsheviks have captured Armenia, and the Allies do nothing to help. Therein the Armenians have a real grievance. Their really marvellous propaganda had secured them the sympathy of the whole Western world. They had received distinct or tacit promises from the Allies and the League of Nations. But neither the one nor the other has done anything to save them from their frightful fate at the hands of Russian Bolsheviks and Kemalist Turks.
Prince S——, the nephew of Abdul Hamid, is a cultured Turkish gentleman of the very first order. His beautiful little daughter was educated in England. She speaks perfect English, her father admirable French. Over the Turkish coffee, thickly sweet and delicious, we discussed the future of Turkey. I had met the prince and his daughter first in Switzerland, at Caux, overlooking the Montreux end of the Lake of Geneva. The Castle of Chillon, and mountains of Savoy on the French side make a picture of extraordinary beauty. Then, as in Constantinople, he spoke warmly of England. I have seldom met a foreigner who had a higher opinion of England and English institutions. In Turkish matters the prince appears to stand half-way between the Turkish Nationalists and the representatives of the old order. He looks for the day of an independent Turkey, self-governing and governing with intelligence; but he appears to think that day has not yet arrived. Before that, there should be universal education for Turkey, free and progressive. The rich, natural soil of agricultural Turkey should be subject to intensive cultivation on modern scientific lines. Land should be made available for all would-be cultivators; estates limited in size, but not alienated from the owners by the State.
Till the day of its emancipation arrives this patriot prince would have for Turkey the assistance of England. It was obvious to the least interested amongst us that Constantinople suffered atrociously from the divided authority of the Allies. Who were their masters—French, Italian, British, or Greek—the wretched Turks really did not know. Each set of nationals in authority got into the others’ way. There were general suspicions and dislikes. Could the prince have had his way, Turkey would have been ruled jointly by Turks and British until education in responsibility had gradually but surely fitted the Turks to be absolute masters in their own house.
This amiable cultured Turkish gentleman admitted the awful atrocities committed by the Turkish Government in the past against the Armenians, and regretted them. His secretary and not himself spoke of equally fearful cruelties practised upon the Turks by Armenians—the same dreadful game of reprisals with which a mad world appears to be anxious to destroy itself.
A marked feature of the British personnel in Turkey is the extreme youth of most of its members. Those who do not take themselves and their work very seriously do not suffer. Those who are conscientious and have their country’s interests really at heart suffer acutely, not only through the physical strain of getting things done against indifferent officialism in a country of unequalled opportunities and matchless interest, but from the mental pain which is born of seeing great opportunities passed by, or seized by wiser people in the interests of nations other than England.