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  • What World War I Did to the Middle East

    Der Spiegel, Germany
    Jan 31 2014


    What World War I Did to the Middle East


    World War I may have ended in 1918, but the violence it triggered in
    the Middle East still hasn't come to an end. Arbitrary borders drawn
    by self-interested imperial powers have left a legacy that the region
    has not been able to overcome.

    Damascus, year three of the civil war: The 4th Division of the Syrian
    army has entrenched itself on Kassioun Mountain, the place where Cain
    is said to have slain his brother Abel. United Nations ballistics
    experts say the poison gas projectiles that landed in the Damascus
    suburbs of Muadamiya and Ain Tarma in the morning hours of Aug. 21,
    2013 were fired from somewhere up on the mountain. Some 1,400 people
    died in the attack -- 1,400 of the more than 100,000 people who have
    lost their lives since the beginning of the conflict.

    Baghdad, in the former palace quarter behind the Assassin's Gate: Two
    years after the American withdrawal, Iraqis are once again in full
    control of the so-called Green Zone, located on a sharp bend in the
    Tigris River. It is the quarter of Baghdad where the Americans found
    refuge when the country they occupied devolved into murderous chaos.
    Currently, the situation is hardly any better. On the other side of
    the wall, in the red zone, death has once again become commonplace.
    There were over 8,200 fatalities last year.

    Beirut, the capital of Lebanon that is so loved by all Arabs: The city
    has long been a focal point both of Arab life and of Arab strife. The
    devout versus the secular, the Muslims versus the Christians, the
    Shiites versus the Sunnis. With fighting underway in Libya and Syria,
    with unrest ongoing in Egypt and Iraq, the old question must once
    again be posed: Has Beirut managed to leave the last eruption of
    violence behind or is the next one just around the corner?

    Two years after the revolts of 2011, the situation in the Middle East
    is as bleak as it has ever been. There is hardly a country in the
    region that has not experienced war or civil strife in recent decades.
    And none of them look immune to a possible outbreak of violence in the
    near future. The movement that came to be known as the Arab Spring
    threatens to sink into a morass of overthrows and counter-revolts.

    That, though, is likely only to surprise those who saw the rebellions
    in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt and Syria as part of an historical turn of
    events for the Middle East. To be sure, the unrest was a bloody new
    beginning, but it was also the most recent chapter in an almost
    uninterrupted regional conflict that began 100 years ago and has never
    really come to an end.

    'The Children of England and France'

    In no other theater of World War I are the results of that epochal
    conflict still as current as they are in the Middle East. Nowhere else
    does the early 20th century orgy of violence still determine political
    conditions to the same degree. The so-called European Civil War, a
    term used to describe the period of bloody violence that racked Europe
    from 1914 onwards, came to an end in 1945. The Cold War ceased in
    1990. But the tensions unleashed on the Arab world by World War I
    remain as acute as ever. Essentially, the Middle East finds itself in
    the same situation now as Europe did following the 1919 Treaty of
    Versailles: standing before a map that disregards the region's ethnic
    and confessional realities.

    In Africa, Latin America and -- following the bloodletting of World
    War II -- Europe, most peoples have largely come to accept the borders
    that history has forced upon them. But not in the Middle East. The
    states that were founded in the region after 1914, and the borders
    that were drawn then, are still seen as illegitimate by many of their
    own citizens and by their neighbors. The legitimacy of states in the
    region, writes US historian David Fromkin in "A Peace to End All
    Peace" -- the definitive work on the emergence of the modern Middle
    East -- comes either from tradition, from the power and roots of its
    founder or it doesn't come at all.

    Only two countries in the broader region -- Egypt and Iran -- possess
    such a long and uninterrupted history that their state integrity can
    hardly be shaken, even by a difficult crisis. Two others continue to
    stand on the foundation erected by their founders: The Turkish
    Republic of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk and the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia,
    finally united by Abd al-Asis Ibn Saud in 1932.

    These four countries surround the core of the Middle East, which is
    made up of five countries and one seemingly eternal non-state. Fromkin
    calls them the "children of England and France:" Lebanon, Syria,
    Jordan, Iraq, Israel and Palestine.

    No group of countries, particularly given their small sizes, has seen
    so many wars, civil wars, overthrows and terrorist attacks in recent
    decades. To understand how this historical anomaly came to pass,
    several factors must be considered: the region's depressing history
    prior to World War I, the failure of the Arab elite and the continual
    intervention by the superpowers thereafter, the role of political
    Islam, the discovery of oil, the founding of Israel and the Cold War.

    A Peace to End All Peace

    Perhaps most important, however, was the wanton resolution made by two
    European colonial powers, Britain and France, that ordered this part
    of the world in accordance with their own needs and literally drew "A
    Line in the Sand," as the British historian James Barr titled his 2011
    book about this episode.

    It is still unclear where the Arab Spring will take us and what will
    ultimately become of the Middle East. Apocalyptic scenarios are just
    as speculative as the hope that that the region will find its way to
    new and more stable borders and improved political structures. But
    where does this lack of legitimacy and absence of trust which poisons
    the Middle East come from? How did we arrive at this "Peace to End All
    Peace," as Fromkin's book is called?

    Istanbul, the summer of 1914: The capital of the Ottoman Empire seems
    half a world away from the sunny parlor in the Imperial Villa in Ischl
    where Emperor Franz Joseph I signed his manifesto "To My People" on
    July 28 and unleashed the world war by declaring war on Serbia. For
    centuries, the Ottoman Empire had controlled the southern and eastern
    Mediterranean, from Alexandretta to Arish, from the Maghreb to Suez.
    But Algeria and Tunisia fell to the French while the British nabbed
    Egypt; in 1911, the Italians established a bridgehead in Libya. By the
    eve of the Great War, the empire had shrunk to include, aside from
    today's Turkey, only the Middle East, present-day Iraq and a strip of
    land on the Arabian Peninsula stretching down to Yemen.

    It is these regions, south of present-day Turkey, that became the
    focus of the Middle Eastern battles in World War I. For 400 years, the
    area had wallowed deep in history's shadow. But in the early 20th
    century, it rapidly transformed into the arc of crisis we know today
    -- a place whose cities have become shorthand for generations of
    suffering: Basra, Baghdad, Aleppo, Damascus, Beirut, Gaza and Suez.

    The protagonists of World War I were not fully aware yet that the
    Ottoman Empire's backyard was sitting atop the largest oil reserves in
    the world. Had they known, the fighting in the Middle East would
    likely have been even more violent and brutal than it was. At the
    time, however, the war aims of the two sides were determined by a
    world order that would dissolve within the next four years: Great
    Britain wanted to open a shipping route to its ally Russia and to
    secure its connection to India via the Suez Canal and the Persian
    Gulf. The German Empire wanted to prevent exactly that.

    Shifting to the Periphery

    It remained unclear for a few days following Franz Joseph's
    declaration of war whether the Ottoman Empire would enter the war and,
    if it did, on which side. But shortly after the conflict began,
    Istanbul joined Berlin and Vienna. On August 2, the Germans and the
    Ottomans signed a secret pact; a short time later, two German warships
    -- the SMS Goeben and the SMS Breslau -- began steaming from the
    western Mediterranean toward Constantinople. Once they arrived, they
    were handed over to the -- officially still neutral -- Ottoman navy
    and renamed Yavuz and Midilli; the German crews remained, but donned
    the fez.

    With the arrival of the two battleships in the Golden Horn and the
    subsequent mining of the Dardanelles, the casus belli had been
    established: The Ottomans and the Germans had blocked the connection
    between Russia and its allies, the French and the British. Shortly
    thereafter, the Goeben, flying the Ottoman flag, bombarded Russian
    ports on the Black Sea. At the beginning of November, Russia, Great
    Britain and France declared war on the Ottoman Empire.

    In London, strategists began considering an attempt to break the
    Dardanelles blockade and take Constantinople. The result was the
    arrival of a British-French fleet at the southern tip of the Gallipoli
    Peninsula three months later. The attack, which began with a naval
    bombardment but soon included an all-out ground-troop invasion, failed
    dramatically. The Ottoman victory led to the resignation of Britain's
    First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill and provided the
    foundation for the rise of the man who would later found modern
    Turkey: Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. The bloody battle also became a
    national trauma for Australia and New Zealand, thousands of whose
    soldiers lost their lives at Gallipoli.

    The Allies' defeat at Gallipoli marked a strategic turning point in
    the war in the Middle East. Because their plan to strike at the heart
    of the Ottoman Empire failed, the Allies began focusing on its
    periphery -- targeting the comparatively weakly defended Arab
    provinces. It was a plan which corresponded with the Arab desire to
    throw off the yoke of Ottoman rule. In July 1915, Sir Henry McMahon,
    the High Commissioner of Egypt, began secret correspondence with
    Hussein Bin Ali, the Sharif of Hejaz and of the holy city of Mecca. He
    and his sons, Ali, Faisal and Abdullah -- together with the Damascus
    elite -- dreamed of founding an Arab nation state stretching from the
    Taurus Mountains in southeastern Turkey to the Red Sea and from the
    Mediterranean to the Iranian border.

    In October 1915, McMahon wrote Hussein a letter in which he declared
    Great Britain's willingness -- bar a few vague reservations -- "to
    recognize and support the independence of the Arabs within the
    territories in the limits and boundaries proposed by the Sherif of
    Mecca."

    The Arabs fulfilled their part of the agreement. In June 1916, they
    began their insurgency against the Ottomans -- a decisive aid to the
    British advance from Sinai to Damascus via Jerusalem. Their revolt was
    energized by the British archeologist and secret agent Thomas Edward
    Lawrence, who would go down in history as "Lawrence of Arabia."

    Britain, though, did not fully live up to its part of the deal. In a
    dispatch sent in early 1916, Lawrence wrote that the Arab revolt would
    be useful to the British Empire because, "it marches with our
    immediate aims, the break-up of the Islamic 'bloc' and the defeat and
    disruption of the Ottoman Empire." But in no way were the British
    thinking of the kind of united Arab state that Hussein and his sons
    dreamed of. "The states the Sharifs would set up to succeed the Turks
    would be … harmless to ourselves…. The Arabs are even less
    stable than the Turks. If properly handled they would remain in a
    state of political mosaic, a tissue of small jealous principalities
    incapable of cohesion."

    Far more important to the British than their Arab comrades in arms
    were the French, with whom their troops were fighting and dying in
    untold numbers on the Western Front. "The friendship with France,"
    British Prime Minister David Lloyd George later told his French
    counterpart Georges Clemenceau, "is worth ten Syrias." France was a
    colonial power that had long laid claim to the Christian provinces of
    the Ottoman Empire. Great Britain would have preferred to control the
    region alone, but with their common enemy Germany bearing down, London
    was prepared to divide the expected spoils.

    Even as McMahon was corresponding with Sharif Hussein, British
    parliamentarian Sir Mark Sykes was negotiating a contradictory deal
    with the French diplomat François Georges-Picot. It foresaw the
    division of the Arab provinces which still belonged to the Ottomans in
    such a way that France would get the areas to the north and the
    British those to the south. "I should like to draw a line from the 'e'
    in Acre to the last 'k' in Kirkuk," Sykes said as he briefed Downing
    Street on the deal at the end of 1916.

    The so-called Sykes-Picot Agreement was an unabashedly imperialistic
    document. It took no account of the wishes of the peoples affected,
    ignored the ethnic and confessional boundaries existing in the Arab
    and Kurdish world and thus provoked the conflicts which continue to
    plague the region 100 years later. "Even by the standards of the
    time," writes James Barr, "it was a shamelessly self-interested pact."

    The Balfour Redesign

    The document initially remained secret. And by the time the Bolsheviks
    completed their revolution in Moscow in 1917 and made the Sykes-Picot
    Agreement public, the British had already signed another secret deal
    -- one which neither the Arabs nor the French knew about.

    On Nov. 2, 1917, Foreign Minister Arthur James Balfour promised the
    Zionist Federation of Great Britain "the establishment in Palestine of
    a national home for the Jewish people." There were several factors
    motivating the British to grant the oppressed Jews the right to
    self-determination and to give them a piece of the Ottoman Empire for
    that purpose. One of the most important was the accusations of
    imperialism against London that had grown louder as the war
    progressed. Not that the imperialists in the British cabinet shared
    such concerns. But it bothered them, particularly because one of the
    critics, Woodrow Wilson, had just been reelected as US president.

    "Every people should be left free to determine its own polity, its own
    way of development, unhindered, unthreatened, unafraid," Wilson
    intoned in January of 1917 on the eve of America's entry into the war.
    At the time, Wilson was unaware of the Sykes-Picot Agreement, but the
    British suspected that they would ultimately have to come clean with
    their new ally. As such, the Balfour Declaration can be seen as an
    effort to guard against the expected US reaction to Britain's
    arbitrary redesign of the Middle East.

    In the meantime, the British -- with the help of the Arabs -- were
    establishing military facts on the ground. Against stiff Ottoman and
    German resistance, they advanced across the Sinai and Palestine to
    Damascus. At the same time, they progressed up the Euphrates to
    Baghdad and occupied Iraq. Between 1915 and 1918, there were more than
    1.5 million soldiers fighting in the Middle East, with several hundred
    thousand casualties -- not including the around one million Armenians
    who were killed or starved to death in the Ottoman Empire.

    In October of 1918, World War I came to an end in the region with the
    Armistice of Mudros. The Ottoman Empire had been defeated and, with
    the exception of Anatolia, was divided among the victors and their
    allies. The "peace to end all peace" was forced upon the Middle East
    -- for an entire century.

    When US President Wilson arrived in Paris in early 1919 for peace
    negotiations with British premier Lloyd George and French leader
    Clemenceau, he became witness to what for him was an unexpected show.
    The heads of the two victorious powers were deeply divided and engaged
    in a biting oratorical duel. The French insisted that they be given
    the mandate for present-day Lebanon and for the region stretching to
    the Tigris, including what is now Syria. The Sykes-Picot Agreement,
    after all, guaranteed them control over the area.

    Asking the People

    The British, who were mindful of their own mandate in Palestine and
    who had just received more exact information regarding the immense oil
    riches to be had in Mesopotamia, were opposed. Granting France the
    mandate over Syria, after all, was in contradiction to the promises
    they had made to the Arabs at the beginning of the war. Furthermore,
    the British had fought the war in the Middle East essentially on their
    own, with almost one million soldiers and 125,000 killed and injured.
    "There would have been no question of Syria but for England," Lloyd
    George said.

    Wilson proposed a solution. The only way to find out if the residents
    of Syria would accept a French mandate and those of Palestine and
    Mesopotamia would accept British rule, the US president said, was to
    find out what people in those regions wanted. It was a simple and
    self-evident idea. For two months, the Chicago businessman Charles
    Crane and the American theologian Henry King travelled through the
    Middle East and interviewed hundreds of Arab notables. Although the
    British and the French did all they could to influence the outcome of
    the mission, their findings were clear. Locals in Syria did not want
    to be part of a French mandate and those in Palestine were
    uninterested in being included in a British mandate. London had been
    successful in preventing the Americans from conducting a survey in
    Mesopotamia.

    In August, King and Crane presented their report. They recommended a
    single mandate covering a unified Syria and Palestine that was to be
    granted to neutral America instead of to the European colonial powers.
    Hussein's son Faisal, who they describe as being "tolerant and wise,"
    should become the head of this Arab state.

    Today, only Middle East specialists know of the King-Crane Report, but
    in hindsight it represents one of the biggest lost opportunities in
    the recent history of the Middle East. Under pressure from the British
    and the French, but also because of the serious illness which befell
    Wilson in September of 1919, the report was hidden away in the
    archives and only publicly released three years later. By then, Paris
    and London had agreed on a new map for the Middle East, which
    diametrically opposed the recommendations made by King and Crane.
    France divided its mandate area into the states of Lebanon and Syria
    while Great Britain took on the mandate for Mesopotamia, which it
    later named Iraq -- but not before swallowing up the oil-rich province
    of Mosul. Between Syria, Iraq and their mandate area of Palestine,
    they established a buffer state called Transjordan.

    Instead of the Arab nation-state that the British had promised Sharif
    Hussein, the victorious powers divided the Middle East into four
    countries which, because of their geographical divisions and their
    ethnic and confessional structures are still among the most difficult
    countries in the world to govern today.

    Fatal and Long-Term Consequences

    And they knew what they were doing. Just before the treaties were
    signed, the question arose as to where exactly the northern border of
    Palestine -- and thus, later, that of Israel -- was to run. An advisor
    in London wrote to the British Prime Minister Lloyd George: "The truth
    is that any division of the Arab country between Aleppo and Mecca is
    unnatural. Therefore, whatever division is made should be decided by
    practical requirements. Strategy forms the best guide." In the end,
    the final decision was made by a British general assisted by a
    director from the Anglo-Persian Oil Company.

    The Arab world, of course, wasn't the only place where borders were
    drawn that local populations refused to accept. It happened in Europe
    too. But three factors in the Middle East led to fatal and long-term
    consequences.

    First: Whereas many Europeans had begun to develop national identities
    and political classes by the beginning of the 19th century at least,
    World War I yanked Arabs out of their historical reverie. The Ottomans
    took a relatively hands-off approach to governing their Middle Eastern
    provinces, but they also did little to introduce any kind of political
    structure to the region or to promote the development of an
    intellectual or economic elite. On the contrary, at the first sign of
    a progressing national identity, the Ottoman rulers would banish or
    execute the movement's leaders. This heritage weighed on the Middle
    East at the dawn of the 20th century, and the region's pre-modern
    conflation of state and religion further hampered its political
    growth.

    Second: The capriciousness with which France and Great Britain redrew
    the boundaries of the Ottoman Empire's former Arab provinces left
    behind the feeling that a conspiracy was afoot -- a feeling which grew
    into an obsession in the ensuing decades. Even today, the legend lives
    on that the mysterious buckle in the desert border between Jordan and
    Saudi Arabia is the result of someone bumping the elbow of Colonial
    Secretary Winston Churchill as he was drawing the line. That, of
    course, is absurd -- but it isn't too far removed from the manner in
    which Sykes, Picot, Lloyd George and Clemenceau in fact carved up the
    region.

    Thirdly: In contrast to Europe, the tension left behind by the
    untenable peace in the Arab world was not released in a single,
    violent eruption. During World War II, the region was not a primary
    theater of war.

    But the unresolved conflicts left behind by World War I, combined with
    the spill-over effects from the catastrophic World War II in Europe --
    the founding of Israel, the Cold War and the race for Persian Gulf
    resources -- added up to a historical burden for the Middle East. And
    they have resulted in an unending conflict -- a conflict that has yet
    to come to an end even today, almost 100 years after that fateful
    summer in 1914.

    Translated from the German by Charles Hawley

    http://www.spiegel.de/international/world/world-war-i-led-to-a-century-of-violence-in-the-middle-east-a-946052.html


    From: Baghdasarian
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