A Box of Sand

by Charles Stephenson

  This is a point of view echoed by Childs, who opines that the Balkan states were ‘encouraged […] to speed up and to coordinate their own preparations to take over the Ottoman Empire in Europe.’ He also points out that the Great Powers who had formerly acted in concert to one degree or another in order to maintain the status quo were no longer capable of so doing. Indeed, at that time and in that place, Austria-Hungary and Russia were mutually hostile and suspicious.9

  Indeed, to posit that the Italian decision to go to war with the Ottoman Empire led unswervingly to the war in the Balkans might, ultimately, lead on to arguing that Giolitti and San Giuliano were then directly responsible for setting in train events that led to the First World War. Such a position would be ridiculously simplistic and completely untenable. Certainly the First Balkan War was in all essentials a continuation of the struggle for independence from the Ottoman Empire, and which would almost certainly have occurred irrespective. Nevertheless, there can be little doubt that those scholars who have placed the Italo-Ottoman conflict in the context of a prelude to the First and then Second Balkan Wars, themselves a prime cause of the general European conflict that erupted in 1914, have a point.10

  This belief in the interrelationship between the Tripoli and Balkan wars was no doubt reinforced because of the one conflict following hard on the heels of the other. Another factor in this regard was the time of year when the Balkan League began their operations. According to Rennell Rodd, ‘experts had pronounced it as contrary to precedent in that incalculable region that the crisis should have occurred at the beginning of winter.’ He then went on to undermine the arguments of the experts:

  It is true that the Comitadjis [irregular soldiers or fighters] and mountain peoples were more disposed to take the warpath in the spring and summer, but the Bulgarians, to whom the gathering of their harvest was a paramount consideration, had been trained to winter warfare.

  He also dismissed the notion that the North African campaign had damaged the strength of the Ottoman armed forces:

  In so far as any weakening of Ottoman resources might have acted as a stimulus to the Balkan States, a connection with the war in Tripoli might be sustained. But the military strength of the Ottoman Empire had not really been much affected by a campaign which was strictly localized, and in which only insignificant forces were engaged.11

  This is pretty much self evidently the case, and if the Ottoman senator who argued in early 1912 that ‘the war at present costs us nothing’12 might be reasonably accused of exaggerating somewhat, it can be said in mitigation that he at least had a point.

  There is one other factor to consider in respect of the formation of the Balkan League and its subsequent military action; that of the policy, or perceived policy, of the CUP and Ottoman government towards the Independent Balkan States. The Bulgarian government published an account of its activities, and the rationale behind them, in both the Balkan Wars and the First World War in 1919. This document, The Bulgarian Question and the Balkan States, was aimed at the leaders of the victorious powers that were then gathered at the Peace Conference at Versailles. It was then hardly objective. However, it does contain a mention of the Bulgarian perception of the Ottoman attitude towards Bulgaria and the other independent Balkan states, which followed on from the CUP seizure of power.

  The new regime undertook nothing in the direction of liberty; the only thing to which it devoted itself sincerely was the military power of the empire. The plan of the Young-Turk Committee was really to provoke one by one all the Balkan States, and beat them separately.13

  This of course was a retrospectively adopted viewpoint that was self justifying. However, there was undoubtedly at least some truth in it. The CUP leaders were extremely vocal about the need to recover ‘lost territories,’ and of course they may have been in a position to replace the talk with action when their reforms were complete, a situation that the governments of the Balkan States could hardly have viewed with equanimity.14

  Whatever the cause of it, the increasing tension and unrest was beyond the power of the Ottoman government to control, a factor that was greatly exacerbated by the ongoing reorganisation of the Ottoman Army. The CUP, being composed largely of army officers, had begun to modernise the Ottoman army along Prussian lines. This unfinished process had, in the words of the Turkish General Staff historian Re at Halli, led to ‘the most disastrous results.’ The military was at an interim stage of transformation in which the preexisting system had been more or less dismantled whilst the new was as yet unready.15 Service in the Ottoman army, which had a fearsome reputation based mainly on its wars with Russia in the nineteenth century and before, had been based on the conscription of Muslims solely. Those of the Jewish or Christian faiths, and there were many within the boundaries of the empire, were exempt. The CUP changed this system so that all faiths became common citizens of the empire and were, in theory at least, equally liable to bear arms. Colonel Herbert Conyers Surtees, the British Military Attaché in Constantinople, observed the antipathy this ‘equality’ caused amongst the Islamic population. He reckoned that the degree of resentment was akin to that which would have been felt by the white population of the Deep South of the United States had enfranchisement of the black population been decreed from above.16 Whether or not this was an exaggeration is impossible to tell, but the effectiveness of the army was certainly impaired by the reforms in general and by their effects on the ‘Prussianisation’ of the officer corps in particular. According to Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett, the former officer and war correspondent for the Daily Telegraph who had reported extensively on the Russo-Japanese War, the results of this policy were disastrous in the short term:

  In their dealings with the old type of regimental officer the Young Turks made the most fatal mistake of all. Because they saw European armies with young regimental officers who enjoyed steady promotion, they said, ‘We must get rid of all these old subalterns and captains who were promoted from the ranks, and who are old enough to be colonels and generals, and replace them by young officers.’ Therefore, with a stroke of the pen they placed all the regimental officers over a certain age in retirement before they had a sufficiency of young officers to take their place. Thus for the last three years the Turkish Army has been woefully short of officers, and when the war broke out [October 1912] it was no fewer than two thousand below its proper establishment.17

  It was the opinion of the British Director of Military Operations, Sir Henry Wilson, ‘that with the re-organisation of her forces completed [the Ottoman Empire] will, in the near future, be infinitely stronger than she is at the present moment.’18 Given in 1911 in a ‘Memorandum on Coercive Action against Turkey’ this forecast was to be proven substantially correct some three years later. Whilst it was still in process however, Ashmead-Bartlett’s assessment of officer shortage and inexperience in 1912 was essentially correct. This was confirmed by later Turkish military historians, and it was a situation moreover that was greatly exacerbated by the situation in North Africa.19 Some of the best, and youngest, Ottoman officers had been despatched there to lead the military campaign against the Italians, including most famously Enver and Mustafa Kemal, and by the middle of 1912 there were several hundred in action.20 Indeed, it is somewhat ironic to note that if the CUP had decided that it would change the ‘glue’ that bound the Ottoman Army from religion to nationalism, then, according to one of their most high profile leaders, the successes obtained by Ottoman officers in raising and maintaining Arab forces was largely to do with their common religion. Indeed, Enver’s diary entry for 9 October 1911 gives his reason for travelling to fight as ‘to fulfil a moral duty; the entire Islamic world expects it of us.’21

  If the removal of Enver, Kemal, and other skilled officers to North Africa, combined with the disruption caused to the army by the ongoing attempts at reorganisation, and not forgetting the deployment of some 30,000 troops to tackle the instability in Yemen, left the Ottoman military in a potentially parlous state, all cannot be said
to have been well with the political scene either. This owed more to domestic than foreign politics, and arose from factionalism in the army.

  A constitutional issue had arisen in December 1911 concerning the proroguing of parliament. According to the restored 1876 constitution, in the event of a dispute between the government and parliament it was the government that had to resign. If any new government found itself still at loggerheads with the parliament, then the Sultan could dissolve the latter and new elections would take place. The leader of the government at the time was Grand Vizier Sait Pasa, who had taken over following the resignation of its predecessor following the Italian invasion of Tripoli. Sait was highly experienced, having been Grand Vizier no fewer than eight times over his career, and was generally well respected and not seen as merely a CUP stooge. His government wanted to modify the constitution, so that in the event of a disagreement between parliament and government, the government would remain and parliament would be prorogued. Parliamentary elections however would not automatically follow.

  Sait was unable to persuade parliament of his case and, in accordance with the constitution, he and his government resigned on 30 December 1911. He was charged by the Sultan with forming a new government on 1 January 1912, but was still unable to get parliament to agree the reform. Accordingly, and in full compliance with constitutional requirements, he again resigned and elections were scheduled. These took place in April and resulted in a CUP landslide; only six opposition members, out of a total of 275 deputies, were elected. The new parliament met on 18 April 1912, and with the overwhelming majority now enjoyed by the CUP, there was no doubt that the constitutional amendment would pass comfortably. The new parliament was however tainted; the election that brought it into being became known as the ‘big-stick election’ because of the degree of manipulation and intimidation involved with it. As well as gerrymandering, these included arresting opposition candidates on unconvincing charges or suddenly calling them up for military service. These practices not only alarmed the opposition, but also caused discontent within a section of the officer corps.

  Many army officers combined membership of the CUP, and concomitant political activities, with their military duties. Another grouping however held the view that the two were incompatible, and that military and political matters should be kept separate, apart from the army having an overarching responsibility for defending the restored constitution. They also blamed the CUP, whose centralising policies could not be said to have proven noticeably effective in ensuring the territorial integrity of the empire, for the Italian invasion of Tripoli and generally deprecated the dictatorial methods practiced by the government, which now commanded a chamber packed with compliant deputies.

  Known as the ‘Saviour Officers’ (Haliskar Zabitan) this group was formed from officers based mainly in the Ottoman capitol but was allied with others stationed in the European vilayets. The ‘Saviour Officers’ published papers stating their aims in late June and early July 1912, and heavily criticised the government for the deteriorating situation in the Albanian areas. This division within the officer corps put the government in a difficult position, particularly at a time when the army might be needed shortly.

  The Minister of War, Mahmud Sevket Pasa, introduced a bill into parliament with a revised military code that introduced provisions concerning the separation of military and political roles. This eventually passed, but on the same day, 9 July 1912, Sevket resigned from his post. His resignation precipitated a crisis, which led eventually to something approaching a military coup on the part of the army units commanded by the disaffected officers. On 16 July Sait Pasa resigned the premiership and the process of forming a new government began.

  The new regime was in place by 21 July with Field-Marshal Ahmet Muhtar Pasa, a military hero of the 1877-8 war with Russia, at its head; his prestige as a military hero perhaps giving him influence over the army in general. The accession of this ‘Great Cabinet’ as it became known because it contained three former Grand Viziers, was not universally acclaimed.22 When Enver learned of the events he was perturbed, writing on 24 July:

  The thought of the events at home do not leave me a moment. The old government was replaced by a feebler one. Only the ministry of war remains in energetic hands, and the army, I hope, will benefit. I myself can only continue the work begun.23

  The Minister of War was another military man, Hussein Nazim Pasa, who had served in the post previously, but for only two days in February 1909.24 His tenure was not to prove a resounding success, and he was to perish in a shooting incident the following year in which Enver was involved. His first days in office cannot have filled him with confidence over the situation in North Africa; telegrams from Tripolitania of 17 and 21 July awaited him reporting acute shortages of ammunition and advocating the cessation of operations unless supplies were rapidly shipped.25 This of course could not be accomplished. Gabriel Noradungiyan (Gabriel Effendi), the newly appointed Foreign Minister was also regaled with news of the most unsettling kind. On 27 July the ambassador to Imperial Germany, Osman Nizami Pasa, who had been appointed in 1908 by the CUP dominated regime,26 telegraphed with intelligence on the Balkan alliances. After reiterating that there was no doubt that anti-Ottoman military moves were afoot, he advised Gabriel that the Ottoman government must find a solution to its conflict with Italy.26 A military solution was obviously out of the question, whilst a political arrangement was fraught with difficulty given the reluctance of the army in particular to concede anything to a foe that could not conquer. Enver in Cyrenaica bemoaned the military situation, recording on 16 August his thoughts on the matter: ‘Had these accursed Italians the courage to attack us! It is sad that we are forced to wage a war of siege!’ The same entry also revealed his unhappiness with the events at home:

  The events in Constantinople take an ever more evil course whilst I stand here, trying to save a corner of my country, powerless. As for the agitators among the officers, I telegraphed to the Secretary of War that here we all curse these miserable wretches, whose actions will lead to the ruin of the army and country.28

  In fact moves, albeit tentative in the extreme, towards a negotiated settlement had been underway under the previous government. Talks had been taking place at the Hotel Gibbon (named for the British Historian who finished his epic work there in 1787) at Lausanne, Switzerland. The Italian delegation comprised of Volpi, the ‘unofficial conduit’ between the two governments, and two parliamentary deputies, Pietro Bertolini and Guido Fusinato. This trio had been discussing, negotiating even, an end to the conflict with a representative of the Ottoman government Sait Halim Pasa (not to be confused with the similarly named Grand Vizier) since 12 July.29 Though these discussions had been undertaken in the strictest secrecy, rumours concerning them inevitably surfaced in the press causing San Giuliano a great deal of nervousness. He feared that should the talks become widely known about then Italian ‘public opinion,’ as expressed through the nationalist press and via jingo politicians, would perceive them as a sign of weakness and that Italy was suing for peace. Indeed, his nervousness may well have been increased, as Childs points out, by the fact that none of the trio at Lausanne came under his authority, but reported directly to Giolitti.30

  Peace efforts were also being made through more formal channels. Sait Pasa had sent Poincare a four-point proposal for onward transmission to Italy. This though had been rejected out of hand by the Italians because it did not have, as its very basis, recognition of Italy’s annexation of the North African vilayet.31 In his memoirs Giolitti discusses a briefing letter he had received from Fusinato, in which he was informed that the Italians were convinced that Sait had no official instructions, but that they were also certain that the Ottoman government really desired peace and that Sait was there in good faith. The stumbling block was of course the Ottoman reluctance to abandon a Muslim province and population to foreign domination, and the associated difficulties this would cause amongst the Ottoman people. On the other hand there
was the Italian determination that nothing less would suffice. As Giolitti stated it: ‘Italy demanded the recognition of our sovereignty by Turkey, and would not accept any formula that disregarded this.’32 Efforts to get around this apparent impasse might have continued, but with the resignation of Sait Pasa on 16 July the talks were suspended.

  That this was a temporary state of affairs was ascertained following two meetings between an employee of Volpi’s, Bernardino Nagara, and Gabriel Effendi in Constantinople on 30 July. According to Giolitti’s account, during the course of the first meeting Gabriel agreed to urge the Ottoman Council of Ministers to continue the negotiations and, by the time of the second held in the evening, had received assent to this. Two delegates would be sent to meet the Italian negotiators with fresh instructions, but in order not to inflame domestic opinion regarding the Tripoli vilayet Gabriel asked that Italy abstain from hostile military operations. Giolitti agreed to this in respect of the Aegean, but ordered that operations in Tripoli should be intensified in general and in Cyrenaica in particular. Advances in the latter would serve to ‘remove the Turkish illusion that, because of the limited extent of our occupation there, Italy would eventually renounce [the annexation of] Cyrenaica.’33 Later historians have confirmed that this statement is supported by contemporary evidence, though as Childs points out Giolitti was only prepared to concede a temporary cessation of hostilities outside the North African theatre.34

  The two Ottoman delegates chosen by Gabriel were experienced diplomats of senior rank, Nabi Bey and Fahreddin Bey (Rumbeyoglu Fahr al-Din Bey), but they did not have plenipotentiary powers. Thus they would have to refer any agreement they might arrive at back to their government for approval.35 Because of intensive interest, and thus intrusions, from journalists the negotiations were moved to the Grand Hotel at Caux-sur-Montreux, and both parties met there in secret on 12 August 1912 whilst reporters searched the vicinity for any sign of them.36