The most important and politically difficult task that had to be accomplished in London during the stay of the Commission in Palestine was to make possible the official laying of the foundation stone of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. The recommendations and the instructions carried by the President of the Commission, Doctor Weizmann, to Palestine were most valuable, and will stand as a lasting token of the generous and kindly feelings of the leading men in the British Government towards Zionism. The influence of the Commission, the excellence of their work, their splendid relations with the authorities had ensured complete success. Nevertheless it was found that, particularly with reference to the foundation-stone ceremony, the instructions had been of too general and too vague a character to overcome the formal and legal administrative obstacles. It is my duty to one who is gone, to record the great services of Sir Mark in this direction. It goes without saying that the final decision lay with a man in higher office. However, before Mr. Balfour gave his decision and before the most detailed instructions had been telegraphed, we had to work strenuously day after day for several weeks, by correspondence and by interviews, with such devotion and enthusiasm as only so magnificent an object as the Hebrew University in Jerusalem could inspire.
During the period that followed, namely the sixth as above described, the Zionist programme was being prepared. The end of the War was in sight, but the cessation of hostilities was not to be expected so very soon. Sykes decided, then, the whole of Palestine and Syria being in British hands, to travel thither to gather fresh information and to bring the results of his latter observations to the Peace Conference. I tried to dissuade him from this journey, because I thought his presence in Europe important: he, on the other hand, wanted me to go with him to Palestine. He finally went alone and wrote to me from there that I should come without delay. His stay in Palestine was, however, only a very short one: he soon passed to Syria and did strenuous work in the direction of restoring order in Aleppo. In the meantime the Peace Conference opened here. We were all of us already assembled—except Sykes. We thought of him every day.
One evening there was a telephone call. On taking up the receiver I heard Sykes’ voice telling me that he had just arrived in Paris, and was staying as usual at the Hôtel Lotti opposite us. I invited him at once to dinner, and he came. He was the same lovable fellow, full of life and humour, but now frightfully thin. He had lived the whole time on “German sausages” and had suffered much from digestive troubles. It only transpired later, that he had spent sixteen hours a day in Aleppo working under almost impossible conditions on behalf of the Arabs and Armenians. He was himself never in the habit of talking about his work. It was two hours after midnight when he left us,—he had so much to tell about the ordinary incapacity for proper administration of the local Syrian population and their marked capacity in that direction under suitable guidance, about the prospects for Palestine, about the steps he had taken against anti-Zionist intrigues in Syria and other matters. From that time forward we saw each other every day. Some days later he went to London to see his family and returned in three days with Lady Sykes. Immediately upon his arrival he was in touch with us. He had a thousand ideas, and had brought reports and instructions from Syria that had to be elaborated. Our days were filled with appointments for visits, interviews, etc. Then Lady Sykes was attacked by influenza, which caused a little dislocation and the postponement of an accepted invitation, but gave no cause for alarm. On the 13th of February, Sir Mark hastily entered my room, and on finding me indisposed, he shouted, “There’s no time now for being ill.” The following morning he sent word to me that Lady Sykes was better, but that he himself was taken ill. “I have got it,” he said to Serjeant Wilson when he went to bed. On the 15th Lady Sykes sent for me, and told me that her husband would have to remain in bed for a few days, that afterwards she intended to go to England for a week or so to recuperate. “To Sledmore?” I asked. “No,” said Lady Sykes, “it is too cold there. I think the South will be better. And my chief reason for troubling you,” she added, “is because my husband wants to know how Zionist matters went yesterday.” I gave full details to Lady Sykes. In the afternoon of the 16th Sir Mark died.
He died on the threshold of the Peace Conference which was destined to make his dream a living thing, died in a hotel in the midst of us, bound up with our deepest affections, a radiant form full of love and sincerity. His life was as a song, almost as a Psalm. He was a man who has won a monument in the future Pantheon of the Jewish people and of whom legends will be told in Palestine, Arabia and Armenia. Just returned from a difficult task in the service of humanity in the service of the idea of nationality, and about to perform great things for the Jewish people, he fell as a hero at our side.
There it ends! Shakespeare himself could use no more than the commonplace to express what is incapable of expression. “The rest is silence!”
We say: “The rest is immortality—in the annals of Zionism.”
Paris, April, 1919.
CHAPTER XLIXA.
Chovevé Zion and Zionists in England—Louis Loewe—Nathan Marcus Adler—Albert Löwy—Abraham Benisch—The Rev. M. J. Raphall—Dr. M. Gaster—Rabbi Samuel Mohilewer—English representation at the Second and Third Congresses—The Fourth Congress in London.