The Rise and Fall of a Palestinian Dynasty

by Ilan Pappe

  The eyes of the world were on the Hall of Mirrors in the Palace of Versailles near Paris. On 18 January 1919, representatives of the ten victorious powers, led by US President Woodrow Wilson, met there to explore ways to avoid another catastrophe like the one that had ravaged Europe, in which 8 million soldiers and some 25 million civilians had lost their lives. But behind the humane concern for peace lurked the old ambitions of the European powers to help themselves to great chunks of the defeated Austro-Hungarian, German and Ottoman Empires. The future of the Middle East was, naturally, among the secondary issues that lay before the conference – the primary ones were the future of Germany, Poland and the Balkans, as well as the economic and military arrangements for running the new world projected by President Wilson. Since Russia quit the war and was caught up in civil strife, Britain and France remained the dominant parties with interests in the Middle Eastern territories of the erstwhile Ottoman Empire. This time the American president demanded that, in contrast to the Sykes–Picot Pact, the future agreement should have international backing; moreover, he wanted to hear the demands of nations in the region or their representatives.

  The Zionist movement had prepared well for the dramatic diplomatic show. Its leadership, headed by Chaim Weizmann, had not been carried away with optimism as had the American Zionists, who believed that all the problems would now be resolved and the ‘return’ of the Jews to their ancient homeland was assured. Weizmann and his associations were pleased by the encouraging developments since the Balfour Declaration but considered the Paris Peace Conference to be the beginning of the struggle rather than its conclusion. The first step was to send a Zionist committee to Jerusalem to accelerate the construction of a ‘national home’. But here they ran into the cautious Governor Storrs, whom they regarded as anti-Zionist because he opposed some of their more far-reaching proposals. They had to content themselves with establishing a foothold while getting ready for the peace conference.

  Sir Herbert Samuel – later the first British High Commissioner in Mandatory Palestine – chaired an advisory committee to help the Zionist leadership prepare for the conference. Together they crafted a demand for the Balfour Declaration to be implemented in every possible way by the British military, and later civil, authority in Palestine. The text of the demand was presented to the conference on 23 February 1919. The Palestinians’ demand had been sent to the conference a few days earlier, but no Palestinian Arab was called upon to present their case, and it is not known if anyone at Versailles even read the document. However, Nahum Sokolov, spokesman of the Zionist leadership, was allowed to address the Council of Ten, and it is known that Lord Balfour, Britain’s representative on the council, listened most attentively, as did the other council members.

  Sokolov outlined the historical reasons for the Jewish demand and stressed that there was no solution to the problems of the Jews of Europe other than the Zionist one. Weizmann later noted that Sokolov had spoken ‘as if the suffering of two thousand years of exile rested on his shoulders’. One doubts that this was what impressed Balfour; it was more the option of Britain avoiding the mass immigration of poor Eastern European Jews that delighted him. Balfour himself spoke after Sokolov and suggested that the Jews’ economic distress could be resolved only in the framework of a ‘national home’ in Palestine. They were not the only Jewish spokesmen to address the conference. They were followed by Menahem Ussishkin and André Spire, who upheld the same ideas.

  Only one person, a French Jew by name of Sylvain Lévi, was allowed to present an anti-Zionist Jewish position. Lévi’s statement put a crimp in the impressive Zionist presentation, but the American foreign secretary broke the rules and gave Chaim Weizmann the floor for the second time to make a resounding conclusion to a most effective Zionist public relations campaign. At this time, Weizmann also persuaded King Faysal of Syria to express some support for Zionism, arguing that this would enable the Jews to use their influence with the Americans and others to pressure the British government to keep its promise to the Hashemites. Faysal soon abandoned his recognition of the Balfour Declaration and his brief cooperation with Weizmann, but his support was sufficient to weaken the Palestinian position in the peace conference even further.

  Thus not a single Palestinian representative appeared before this very important international conference, both because of internal dissent and British obstruction. The Husaynis, though still the leading political force in the country, were denied both a place on the international stage and the experience that comes with it. As the struggle continued to rage not only on the ground but also in diplomatic arenas, this inexperience would undermine their effectiveness. Weizmann was able to pilot the Zionist vessel through the rocks of high-level international politics, while the young Husaynis struggled through internal disputes.

  Fortunately for the Palestinians, when the Americans realized that they could not persuade their European allies to let the nations of the Middle East present their cases, they decided to send a mission to the region. Once discussions in Jerusalem ended, the Palestinians heard that an American team would tour Greater Syria to investigate the wishes of its inhabitants. (It was first proposed that the mission include British and French experts, but again London and Paris took no interest in the matter.) President Wilson himself appointed the team’s leaders: Dr Henry King was President of Oberlin College, and Charles Crane was a trustee at Roberts College in Istanbul (later Boğaziçi University) and a businessman well-connected with many of the regional leaders.

  News of the forthcoming visit caused a flurry in Damascus. Amir Faysal, who still governed on behalf of the Allies but was determined to become King of Greater Syria, hoped to convince the visitors that the populations of Lebanon, Syria, Transjordan and Palestine all wished to be united under his rule. He therefore urged all the secret national associations that had proliferated under Ottoman rule in Damascus and other cities to unite into a single party, the Arab Independence Party (Istiqlal), which would take part in parliamentary elections and call for the unity and independence of Greater Syria, if necessary under the overlordship of a mandatory power.25

  The idea of a mandate was present before the Paris Peace Conference was convened. Several American experts introduced it to President Wilson as the best compromise between independence for the Arab nations, as demanded by their leaders, and colonial rule, as requested by Britain and France. The mandate would be granted by the League of Nations – the supranational organization conceived by Wilson as the principal bulwark against another world war and as means to settle international disputes – for a limited period, during which the mandatory power would guide the state it administered towards full independence. Upon hearing about it for the first time during his visit to Versailles, Faysal found the idea of a mandate acceptable, but only if it were American or British. Under no circumstances would he agree to a French mandate, although according to the terms of the Sykes-Picot Pact, Syria and Lebanon were designated France’s sphere of influence. It was this impasse that eventually led to the removal of the Hijazi amir from Damascus and destroyed the prospect of a Greater Syria.26

  In the middle of 1919, al-Hajj Amin was still the family’s leading radical. First he helped set up Palestinian representation in Damascus to support Faysal’s peace conference demands, then he worked hard in Jerusalem to achieve a coherent Palestinian stance in favor of unification with Syria. But in this he differed from the rest of the family. His kinsmen Jamal and Said had not yet formed a clear opinion either on Syria or – in contrast to Ismail – on Zionism.

  Jamal and Said made efforts to understand Zionism’s direction and impact. They met Haim Kalvarisky, a Zionist mystery man and something of a charlatan, who expressed support for a bi-national solution while remaining strongly associated with the Zionist leadership. Unlike other Jewish friends of the family, such as Gad Frumkin, Kalvarisky was widely known as a man of intrigue, and everyone had heard the story of his meetings with Jamal Pasha, the Ottoman governor during the war
. ‘Kalvarisky,’ the governor had said, ‘one day I’ll see you hanging from the gallows.’ ‘No doubt, your highness,’ Kalvarisky had replied, ‘but first I’ll sell you the rope.’27

  Despite his dubious reputation, Kalvarisky’s ideas were sometimes surprisingly well received. In mid-May he persuaded Said and Jamal and their close associates Salim Ayub and Bhajat al-Nashashibi to take part in a meeting aimed at creating a permanent apparatus for joint arbitration between the Zionist movement and the traditional Palestinian leadership on inter-communal problems in the Jerusalem area. Kalvarisky was hoping to persuade these families to act against the Muslim-Christian Association, and when young al-Hajj Amin heard this he was furious. Each of the four participants received an anonymous letter signed ‘The leading young Arab men in Jerusalem’, warning that if they continued to meet Kalvarisky they would be regarded as traitors and collaborators with Zionism. The letter concluded on an ominous note, saying that ‘peaceful people might resort to violent actions in the face of such behavior’. Most of the family concluded that the negotiators of the Zionist peace camp were insincere, and those who did not think so, such as Fawzi al-Husayni (about whom more will be said later), would pay with their lives. The national cause demanded obedience to the family leadership, something that had been unheard-of in previous generations. Tradition, Ottoman politics and existential needs had always obliged the family to adopt a joint policy based on internal understanding and consent, not on violence. Nationalism was less tolerant and much more ruthless.28

  On 7 June 1919, Faysal convened a Greater Syria conference at the Arab Club in Damascus and invited Palestinian representatives. Though the occupying authorities barred Palestinian participation in such pan-Arab gatherings, since they could not prevent individuals from traveling to Damascus certain Palestinians were appointed to key positions in Faysal’s administration. Izzat Darwaza was appointed secretary of the congress, Awni Abd al-Hadi personal secretary to the king. The Husaynis were offered a higher post than they had expected: Said was chosen to be the kingdom’s foreign minister. But the ailing fifty-nine-year-old Said was unable to leave his house in Jerusalem, and so Abd al-Hadi received this post too. Amin Tamimi was appointed adviser to Faysal’s prime minister, and several other Palestinians were placed in senior positions because Faysal appreciated their abilities. There were also many Palestinians in the leadership of Faysal’s Istiqlal Party – for example, three of the eight members of the executive committee.29

  Faysal instructed his people to tell the King-Crane mission they wanted unity, independence and, if possible, an American or British mandate. While Damascus was preparing to receive the mission, the Palestinians had to be ready for it because they were the American observers’ first stop. On 4 April 1919, Governor Storrs invited al-Hajj Amin and Khalil al-Sakakini to his office and informed them that the American mission would arrive in the summer. The next week was spent in intense discussions at Sakakini’s house about how to present the Palestinian case to the Americans. The sitting room was too small to contain all the individuals who wished to express their views. A group of Nablus notables took part in one of these meetings, and eventually the unelected young leadership of the emergent Palestinian nationalists had to decide how to respond to the international poll on the future of Palestine. Unable to reach an agreement, they decided to consult Ismail al-Husayni. They took a carriage from Sakakini’s Silk House to Ismail’s residence. The fact that the crucial decision-making meetings took place at the house of the head of their family assured many Husaynis that, despite the dramatic reversals caused by the Great War, they were still center stage, or had returned to it after the upheaval.30

  Musa Kazim and the heads of other families also attended the consultation, and the presence of these veterans enabled the young men to create a solid Palestinian position. In this house, which later served the Palestinian leadership from the First Intifada in 1987 until the outbreak of the second in 2000, they resolved that the Arabs of Palestine would join the call for an independent Greater Syria while preserving Palestinian autonomy and opposing Jewish immigration.

  The declaration presented to the American observers was drafted with the help of Kamil, Said and al-Hajj Amin, and read:

  Syria, from the Taurus Mountains to the Suez Canal, is absolutely independent and part of the overall Arab unity. Palestine, being an integral part of Syria, is independent in domestic matters and will choose its own rulers from among its inhabitants. The people of Palestine are utterly opposed to Zionist immigration and aspirations, but recognize that the Jews who were in the country before the war have the same rights as the local inhabitants.31

  In view of the preparations for the Greater Syrian Parliament, they decided to hold another nationwide conference of all the Muslim-Christian Associations as a kind of parliament that would give legal validity to the Palestinian position on the country’s future. For the second time in a matter of months, a general gathering of these associations met on May 24 and confirmed the above resolutions verbatim.

  The King–Crane mission was received warmly when it arrived in the summer. The United States was believed to be the great friend of the Arab cause, and the presence of the president’s personal envoys awakened hope that it might still be possible to turn the clock back and undo the Balfour Declaration. Wherever the Americans went they were met by enthusiastic young Palestinians, members of the Arab and Literary Clubs and other organizations. The mission called at thirteen locations, and at each of them delegations from the surrounding villages awaited them.

  The fact-finding mission proceeded to Damascus, and in August 1919 it presented its conclusions to the Paris Peace Conference. Its statement must have sounded like naya (flute) music to the ears of all who had convened in Ismail’s house in the spring: ‘As for Palestine we recommend to reject the extreme Zionist scheme of unlimited immigration with the purpose of establishing a Jewish state in Palestine.’32

  It went on in this vein. The Palestinians themselves could not have drafted a more damning report. However, it soon became clear that the chief players on the Middle Eastern stage, Britain and France, did not intend to consider the report. First they put off all serious discussion about it, and later, after the US Congress did not subscribe to the president’s wish to share in all these world-shaping postwar agreements, the report was quietly deposited on a shelf in the American National Archives, where it is still available for historians to peruse. Meanwhile, the statesmen turned their gaze to the holiday resort of Deauville in the north of France, where something they considered more important was taking place.

  In Deauville, in September 1919, French prime minister Georges Clemenceau was forced to bow to the infuriating and humiliating dictate of his former ally, British prime minister Lloyd George, and renounce France’s claim to some of the territories that had been designated during the war as a French sphere of influence, such as the oil-rich region of Mosul in Iraq. He also had to agree to Palestine being included in Britain’s sphere of influence rather than being internationalized, as formerly agreed. Lloyd George’s secretary would later report that the future of Palestine was resolved amid loud shouts and bitter protests. As for Greater Syria, France was assured that the British forces backing Faysal would soon withdraw, leaving the amir to face the French forces that had landed on the coast of Lebanon. Clearly Faysal would have no chance at all against a superior army like the French.33

  In fact, in July 1920 Faysal’s army was trounced in a short battle in Maysalun on the Syria–Lebanon border. Less than a year later the British government compensated him by making him king of Iraq, but it was a bitter setback for the supporters of Greater Syria. The dizzying pace of events forced whoever wished to remain politically significant to adapt rapidly to change. Some of the Husaynis, such as al-Hajj Amin, Jamal and Musa Kazim, did so by replacing the idea of Greater Syria with that of independent Palestine, thereby ensuring the family’s continuing centrality in the Palestinian national movement.

  So th
e Great Syria option was taken off the Palestinian agenda, and on 20 June 1920 everyone was ready to welcome the British Mandate’s High Commissioner for Palestine, Herbert Samuel. The two years of military rule were over, and at least the elder Husaynis, including Ismail, Said and Musa Kazim, hoped to continue conducting the ‘politics of notables’ – that is to say, maintaining autonomous control of their society’s affairs with the blessing of the authorities and of society itself. Unlike the Ottomans, though, the British demanded greater commitment and refused to rule by means of intermediaries, and they greatly reduced the power of the upper class. They appointed officials, some of them Jews, to senior posts that Husaynis or members of other notable families had held during Ottoman times.

  The younger men led by al-Hajj Amin were too inexperienced to win the support of all the families and the general populace, and consequently those who were best placed to lead Palestinian society were unable to steer it off the path chosen by external authorities. Such a person was Musa Kazim, who under different circumstances might have changed the course of Palestinian history. He had retired before the end of the Great War, and his appearance in the early days of British rule showed that he was still living in the Ottoman era: he regularly wore his Ottoman medals and traditional headgear, and occasionally the tarbush, as befitted the family’s sharifi descent. At the time of the Balfour Declaration, he had not yet become interested in national politics. He had been a senior Ottoman official, loyal to his government, and like most of his family had had nothing to do with the Arab revolt.34 His appointment to the mayoralty in place of his brother looked like a continuation of the Ottoman way of doing things, but the British demand for absolute obedience to London’s policy on Zionism drove Musa Kazim, almost against his will, into a position of national leadership. In the next chapter we shall see how Musa Kazim provided the young al-Hajj Amin with the family’s backing in the struggle for power, though their alliance lasted too short a time to save Palestine.