The French had made things difficult for a start by refusing to recognize Feisal as the ruler of Damascus and of the other Syrian cities that they wanted for themselves. And Feisal’s position was not at all a secure one. His only right to take part in the Peace Conference was as representing the ‘ally’ Sherif Hussein, his father, whose claim to call himself King of the Hejaz (the Holy Province and the Red Sea coast as far as Akaba) was alone recognized. All official business had to be transacted in Hussein’s name, though actually no Hejaz business came before the Peace Conference. All discussion was limited to Syria and Mesopotamia, about which Hussein’s right to treat was not admitted by the French. If Hussein and Feisal had been in agreement it would have been easier, but the ambitious narrow-minded old man was most jealous of his son. He wanted to rule a great religious Empire consisting of all the Arabic-speaking parts of the old Turkish Empire, and to make Mecca his capital.
While the war lasted it was advisable not to oppose him too strongly, since unity was necessary in the Arab movement; but when the Armistice came Lawrence set about putting him quietly in his place. Mecca was the worst city in the whole Arabic-speaking world, a hot-bed of religious fanaticism (and also of vice) and, because of its sanctity and its distance from Syria and Mesopotamia, impossible as the capital of any enlightened State. Also the Desert (for Mecca was the Desert) could never rule the settled lands: the settled lands were passing into modern civilization and the Desert would always remain barbarous and primitive.
Sir Henry McMahon, who as High Commissioner of Egypt had concluded the first treaty with Hussein that made him enter the war on the side of the Allies, has told me about Lawrence at Paris. ‘I was appointed,’ he said, ‘as British member of the delegation to Syria, Palestine and Mesopotamia to report on the feeling of the peoples concerned as to what governments would be most welcome to them and on the possibility of gratifying their wishes. When I got to Paris nobody seemed to know anything about what was happening; I could not even find out who my colleagues were. The only person who seemed to know every one and everything and to have access to all the Big Three—Clemenceau, Lloyd George and Woodrow Wilson—was Lawrence. I don’t know how he did it, but he was in and out of their private rooms all the time and, as he was about the only man who knew the whole Eastern geographical and racial question inside out, they were probably glad of his advice. He found me my colleagues at once, all except the French delegate: but, possibly, the French never intended the delegation to go, for the Frenchman was never appointed and never will be, and nothing ever came of the business.’
Lawrence took Lloyd George into his confidence, a man in whom he found a sympathy for small or oppressed nations that matched his own, and explained to him simply what the problem was. Arab independence had begun in the Desert; as was to be expected, for the Desert is the starting-off point of all great Arab movements. But as soon as it reached the settled countries of Syria and Mesopotamia it had to be stabilized there; the Desert has always made sudden magnificent efforts that in the end tail off into nothing. He wanted Damascus as the settled home of this new Arab independence and he wanted Feisal as the first ruler of the new Syrian state with Damascus as his capital. The French, in exact accordance with the terms of the Sykes-Picot treaty, might be satisfied with having Beyrout and the Lebanon and the north Syrian coast for their own, and with the privilege of assisting the Damascus State with what advice its administrators needed.
Mesopotamia would form another Arab State, or perhaps two, even, and eventually some generations hence when communications by road, rail and air had drawn together the more civilized Arab provinces, there might be a United States of Arabia. Lawrence advised that nothing should now be done to promote early confederation; but that, particularly, nothing should be done to hinder it. The Desert should be left alone to look after itself in the old way without interference from the settled lands of Arabia, or from the rest of the world.
Lloyd George might have agreed to this, but unfortunately the Sykes-Picot Treaty had put Mosul into the sphere of French influence. This did not distress Lawrence, but it threatened ruin to the military occupation of Mesopotamia which the Imperial Government, Bagdad having been won at such cost, intended to turn into a British administered province. So when the case came up before the Council of Ten—present, Clemenceau and Pichon (France), Lloyd George (England), Montagu (Indian Government), Sonnino (Italy) and others—the French were allowed to take the same equivocal attitude towards Syria as the British were taking towards Mesopotamia. Lawrence was present as Feisal’s interpreter at this most eventful meeting and spoke in Arabic, French and English. An amusing incident was Pichon’s speech quoting St. Louis and France’s claims on Syria during the Crusades. Feisal, a successor of Saladin, replied, ‘But pardon me, M. Pichon, which of us won the Crusades?’
The various contradictory pledges which Lawrence had first been shown by the Emir Nuri were then discussed, and finally, after months of intrigue, Feisal and Clemenceau appear to have come to a secret working agreement. Feisal was, with French help, to rule the greater part of inland Syria, from Damascus; the French took Beyrout and the Syrian coast. The Jews were given a home in Palestine, under British protection. But the British kept Mesopotamia and discouraged all agitation there towards Arab independence. Nothing of this agreement, if it was an agreement, was made public during the life of the Peace Conference: but Feisal returned to Syria and the working arrangement began to show itself.
Lord Riddell has kindly given me the following story: ‘After the final debate at Versailles I had a talk with Feisal and Lawrence. The latter ascribed to Feisal the following observation: “In the desert, overtaking a long caravan of camels, you find each camel tied by his nose-rope to the tail of the camel in front of him; but when you reach the head of the string after a long walk you find that it is led by a little donkey!” The implication was of course that the stately ones were dull and lacking in brains, and that the leaders were artful but not profound.’
This was how matters stood at the close of the Peace Conference and Lawrence was not at all satisfied with them: as he clearly showed in his letter to The Times in 1920, printed in Appendix B. In England, at his first coming, he had refused to accept his British decorations. According to an account that he gave me a few months later, he explained personally to his Sovereign that the part he had played in the Arab Revolt was dishonourable to himself and to his country and government. He had, by order, fed the Arabs with false hopes and would now be obliged if he might be quietly relieved of the obligation to accept honours for succeeding in his fraud. He said respectfully as a subject, but firmly as an individual, that he intended to fight by straight means or crooked until His Majesty’s ministers had conceded to the Arabs a fair settlement of their claims. According to this account, to which Lawrence had nothing to add when I submitted my version of it to him recently, for verification, His Majesty, though unwilling to believe that Ministers of the Crown were capable of double-dealing, respected Lawrence’s scruples, permitting him to forgo his decorations. Lawrence expressed his gratitude, and thereupon also returned his foreign decorations to their donors with an account of the circumstances.
Lord Stamfordham, His Majesty’s Private Secretary, to whom I wrote for permission to print this paragraph, has been good enough to get His Majesty’s own recollections of the interview: ‘His Majesty does not remember that Colonel Lawrence’s statement was what you have recorded: but that, in asking permission to decline the proffered decorations, Colonel Lawrence explained in a few words that he had made certain promises to King Feisal: that these promises had not been fulfilled, and consequently, it was quite possible that he might find himself fighting against the British Forces, in which case it would be obviously impossible and wrong to be wearing British Decorations. The King has no recollection of Colonel Lawrence’s saying that the part he had played in the Arab Revolt was dishonourable to himself and to his Country and Government.’