A Woman in Arabia

by Gertrude Bell

  Charismatic and patient in settling the private petitions of his tribesmen, Faisal was described by General Edmund Allenby as looking “the very type of royalty. . . . He combined the qualities of soldier and statesman; quick of vision, swift in action, outspoken and straightforward. . . . Picturesque, literally, as well as figuratively! Tall, graceful, handsome—to the point of beauty—with expressive eyes lighting up a face of calm dignity.”

  Notwithstanding his victorious leadership of the Arab Revolt, Faisal was ignored at the Paris Peace Conference as the Middle East was carved up between the British and French. Subsequently elected king of Syria by that country’s nationalists, he was expelled by the French army in July 1920 and returned to the Hejaz a bitterly disillusioned man.

  Knowing his history and having spent some hours in his company in Paris, Gertrude prepared for the Cairo Conference knowing exactly who she wanted for king of Iraq.

  Christmas Day, 1920

  I feel quite clear in my own mind that there is only one workable solution, a son of the Sharif and for choice Faisal; very very much the first choice.

  At the Cairo Conference in March 1921, Cox, Gertrude, and Lawrence successfully convinced Churchill that Emir Faisal was the best candidate for king of Iraq. Not only was he a war hero and brave ally of the British during the revolt, but he presented the strongest hope for success and stability in Iraq.

  Churchill asked whether the administration could deliver an election vote in favor of Faisal: “Can you make sure he is chosen locally?” Western political methods, he added, “are not necessarily applicable to the East, and the basis of the election should be framed.” It was more than a recommendation; it was an order. Cox and Gertrude would have to see that Faisal came to power as the country’s own choice, but he had to be seen to be elected independently of British wishes.

  There now followed an inevitable delay while Churchill consulted with the Cabinet and obtained HMG’s consent for Faisal to run as a candidate. Faisal was approached, and the French sounded out. Heavily occupied by their problems in Syria, from which they had expelled Faisal in July 1920, the French concurred on condition that he gave up all claims to Syria and all support for the Syrian nationalists. Faisal agreed and was ready to abandon his father’s claims to Palestine in return for the throne of Iraq for himself and ruler of the newly created Emirate of Transjordan for his brother Abdullah.

  Gertrude’s self-determining Iraq was beginning to take shape. She and Cox had finally succeeded in persuading the most respected man in Iraq, the elderly naqib of Baghdad, head of the Sunni community, to undertake the formation of a provisional government. This would be followed by an elected parliament once Gertrude had devised a fair and representative voting system. The first job, however, was to pacify the country. Violence continued along the Euphrates and in the north, where RAF planes were bombing tribesmen who attacked British garrisons. Cox was determined to secure peace before taking another step, and he put down the disturbances with all the force he could muster. Gertrude hated the bombing and the burning but recognized that a nascent Arab government could not have coped with a raging insurgency.

  How was she to deliver a form of democracy to a country so ignorant of national politics and comprised of so many factions? As she wrote:

  The rank and file of the tribesmen, the shepherds, marsh dwellers, rice, barley and date cultivators of the Euphrates and Tigris, whose experience of statecraft was confined to speculations as to the performances of their next door neighbours, could hardly be asked who should next be the ruler of the country, and by what constitution.

  Any simple majority voting system would have left great areas of the country unrepresented. Gertrude’s efforts to resolve boundaries and develop structures for new governments had always been devoted to avoiding incompatible conjunctions of races and creeds. It was now her job to ensure that nobody suffered as a member of an oppressed minority in a country split by racial, religious, and economic differences. It was work after her own heart, and it would occupy her for months to come.

  Baghdad, February 16, 1920

  I’m acutely conscious of how much life has after all given me. I’ve gone back now, after many years, to the old feeling of joy in existence, and I’m happy in feeling that I’ve got the love and confidence of a whole nation. It mayn’t be the intimate happiness which I’ve missed, but it’s a very wonderful and absorbing thing—almost too absorbing perhaps. You must forgive me if it seems to preoccupy me too much. . . .

  October 3, 1920

  If you’re going to have anything like really representative institutions you would have a majority of Shi’ahs. For that reason you can never have three completely autonomous provinces. Sunni Mosul must be retained as part of the Mesopotamian state in order to adjust the balance. To my mind it’s one of the main arguments for giving Mesopotamia responsible government. We as outsiders can’t differentiate between Sunni and Shi’ah; but leave it to them and they’ll get over the difficulty . . . just as the Turks did, and for the present it’s the only way of getting over it. The final authority must be in the hands of the Sunnis, in spite of their numerical inferiority; otherwise you will have a mujtahid-run state, which is the very devil.

  November 3, 1920

  The Shi’ahs complain that they are not sufficiently represented on the Council, wholly overlooking the fact that nearly all their leading men are Persian subjects and must change their nationality before they can hold office in the Mesopotamian state.

  December 12, 1920

  I’m entertained to find myself in the eyes of the Ministry of the Interior (and of the Arab Government) as the first authority on tribes. . . . I’ve worked at them for years. So it’s really I who have settled the details of tribal representation. It’s not only right in itself that the tribes should be represented but it’s also essential for the safety of the National Government that the tribes should be associated with it. Moreover there’s a strong feeling on the subject in advanced nationalist circles. All the same it’s a bold step. The townsfolk and landowners who hate and fear the tribes (as the tribes hate and fear the townsmen) won’t a bit like their gaining political status. It’s the landless intelligentsia who want it and they are the backbone of the nationalist party. All the big landowners on the Council, from the Naqib downwards, will try to keep the tribes out.

  Once the insurgent tribes had submitted, Cox granted a general amnesty. Churchill had wired London from Cairo: “Both Cox and Miss Bell agree that if procedure is followed, appearance of Faisal in Mesopotamia will lead to his general adoption.” Now it was their responsibility to make it happen.

  As a Sunni ruler in a country with a Shia majority, the emir’s descent from the Prophet would be his trump card. The small committee that Gertrude, Cox, and the Iraqi ministers now formed set themselves to work out the timing and geography. Faisal should immediately be invited to Baghdad, but he would need to go to Mecca first, and have his candidature announced from the holy city, where his father was sharif. Support would grow as he progressed east. Now she was preoccupied with the business of making him welcome.

  June 19, 1921

  Here was Faisal arriving at Basrah on the 23rd. . . . On Thursday afternoon the Naqib . . . made a sound move. He informed the Council of Ministers that Faisal was coming and that they must make preparations to receive him properly and see that he was suitably lodged. Thereupon they appointed a reception committee of 5 ministers. . . .

  Unfortunately, the committee caused so much controversy that the members almost came to blows. Gertrude attended the first meeting and, sighing, left it to its arguments and went about arranging the details herself. She called on the railway officials and had a train specially decorated for the emir. She arranged for a deputation of sixty notables to greet Faisal at the station, found competent servants for him, and arranged for the distribution of the new flags.

  There remained the question of his lodging here whi
ch they proposed to solve by putting him into some rooms in the Sarai (the Government offices) which were now under repair . . . if they could be got ready in time. Public Works declared that it couldn’t be done. Jafar telephoned to me in despair on Saturday morning; I telephoned to Public Works, made suggestions for covering bare walls with hangings and finally the thing was arranged . . .

  Faisal arrived on Iraq on June 23, 1921. Charismatic and a natural orator, he was able to win over hearts and minds whenever he made a speech; he left most of Basra under his spell. With his entourage he then set off for Baghdad on a train covered with flags. After innumerable delays, the train drew into the station, a guard of honor presented arms, the crowd cheered, and a band struck up. Faisal inspected the guard and progressed to the reception including the city’s notables.

  Sidi Faisal stood at the carriage door looking very splendid in full Arab dress, saluting the guard of honour. Sir Percy and Sir Aylmer* went up to him as he got out and gave him a fine ceremonious greeting, all the people clapped. . . . Sir Percy began to present the Arab Magnates, representatives of the Naqib. I hid behind Mr. Cornwallis,* but Faisal saw me and stepped across to shake hands with me. He looked excited and anxious—you’re not a king on approbation without any tension of the spirit—but it only gave his natural dignity a more human charm. . . .

  This morning on my way to the office I went to the Sarai and gave my card to Faisal’s A.D.C. He said would I wait a minute, the Amir would like to see me; it was a little past seven, rather early for a morning call. I waited, talking to the A.D.C. and presently Faisal sent for me. They showed me into a big room and he came quickly across in his long white robes, took me by both hands and said “I couldn’t have believed that you could have given me so much help as you have given me.” So we sat down on a sofa. . . .

  Mr. Cornwallis came into the office later and I told him I had called on Faisal. He said “That was quite right. All the way up he had been hearing your praise and he gave me a message for you in case he didn’t see you to speak to to-day. I was to tell you how grateful he was.”

  July 2, 1921

  The next event was that evening’s banquet in the Maude gardens. It was really beautifully done. The place lighted with electric lights looked lovely.

  Faisal carried on a little conversation in French with Sir Aylmer, but mostly he and I and Sir Percy talked across the table. . . . Faisal looked very happy and I felt very happy and so did Sir Percy. . . .

  Then got up our great poet, of whom I’ve often told you, Jamil Zahawi, and recited a tremendous ode in which he repeatedly alluded to Faisal as King of the Iraq and everyone clapped and cheered. And then there stepped forward into the grassy space between the tables a Shi’ah in white robes and a black cloak and big black turban and chanted a poem of which I didn’t understand a word. It was far too long and as I say quite unintelligible but nevertheless it was wonderful. The tall, robed figure chanting and marking time with an uplifted hand, the starry darkness in the palm trees beyond the illuminated circle—it hypnotized you.

  The naqib followed the banquet with a welcoming dinner, a magnificent occasion on which Gertrude was seated at Faisal’s right.

  July 8, 1921

  . . . It was a wonderful sight that dinner party. The robes and their uniforms and the crowds of servants; all brought up in the Naqib’s household—the ordered dignity of it and the real solid magnificence and the tension of spirit which one felt all round one as one felt the burning heat of the night. For after all to the best of our ability we were making history.

  July 20, 1921

  . . . On Monday the Jewish community gave a great reception to Faisal in the Grand Rabbi’s official house. . . . It was filled with rows of seats, with rows of notables sitting in them, the Jewish Rabbis in their turbans or twisted shawls, the leading Christians, all the Arab Ministers and practically all the leading Moslems, with a sprinkling of white robed, black cloaked ’ulama*. . . . The speeches on these occasions are all set speeches. . . . But yet they were interesting, because one knew the tension which underlay them, the anxiety of the Jews lest an Arab Govt should mean chaos and their gradual reassurance, by reason of Faisal’s obviously enlightened attitude. . . . Towards the end he got up and spoke really beautifully; it was straight and good and eloquent. . . . He made an immense impression. The Jews were delighted at his insistence on their being of one race with the Arabs. . . .

  Cox, though greatly relieved by Faisal’s reception in Iraq and by the Council having unanimously declared him king, knew that a referendum must be held, so as to confirm Faisal as the choice of the people. He and Gertrude had already framed the question “Do you agree to Faisal as King and leader of Iraq?” and printed the papers. They were circulated to a great number of tribal representatives including three hundred notables, and only six weeks after Faisal’s arrival, with all the papers in, the referendum proved heavily in his favor. He was already working with the naqib to form the first Cabinet; next he was to be crowned in Baghdad.

  Baghdad, July 27, 1921

  I’m immensely happy over the way this thing is going. I feel as if I were in a dream. . . . On our guarantee all the solid people are coming in to Faisal, and there’s a general feeling that we made the right choice in recommending him. If we can bring some kind of order out of chaos, what a thing worth doing it will be!

  Before Faisal’s official coronation came the tribal celebrations in his honor at Ramadi. This would be his Bedouin coronation and the culmination of the gains of the Arab fight for independence. For Gertrude, too, it was the most triumphant moment of her life, the pinnacle of her long fight for self-determination for the Arabs. Although not the only Briton present, she would take the prime place among them as she stood on the dais beside Faisal, flanked by Ali Sulaiman, the powerful pro-British sheikh of the Dulaim, and her great friend Fahad Beg of the Anazeh.

  For three weeks beforehand, temperatures had been over 115 degrees. Gertrude and her chauffeur had to leave at 4 a.m. to cover the seventy miles to Ramadi. Just before the halfway mark, she saw the cloud of dust that signaled Faisal’s cavalcade ahead. A few miles before Fallujah they came to the tents of the Dulaim, and from that point on, the road was lined with tribesmen roaring their salute and waving their rifles above their heads, kicking up a fog of dust like drifting cliffs on either side. As Faisal’s car drew ahead, they wheeled away and galloped on, to form a continuous wild cavalcade escorting him through Fallujah to Ramadi on the edge of the Syrian Desert.

  Baghdad, July 31, 1921

  Under the steep edge of the Syrian desert were drawn up the fighting men of the ’Anazeh, horsemen and camel riders, bearing the huge standard of the tribe. We stopped to salute it as we passed. Ali Sulaiman the Chief of the Dulaim and one of the most remarkable men in ’Iraq came out of Ramadi to meet us. . . . We . . . drove to the Euphrates bank where Ali Sulaiman had pitched a huge tent of ten poles—ie about 200 ft. long—with a dais at the upper end roofed with tent cloth and walled with fresh green boughs. Outside were drawn up the camel riders of the Dulaim, their horsemen and their standard carried by a negro mounted on a gigantic white camel; inside the tribesmen lined the tent 5 or 6 deep from the dais to the very end. Faisal sat on the high diwan. . . . He was supremely happy—a great tribesman amongst famous tribes and, as I couldn’t help feeling, a great Sunni among Sunnis. . . .

  Faisal was in his own country with the people he knew. I never saw him look so splendid. He wore his usual white robes with a fine black abba over them, flowing white headdress and silver bound ’aqal. Then he began to speak, leaning forward over the small table in front of him, sitting with his hand raised and bringing it down on the table to emphasize his sentences. The people at the end of the tent were too far off to hear; he called them all up and they sat on the ground below the dais, . . . 400 or 500 men. He spoke in the great tongue of the desert, which I had never heard him use before, sonorous, magnificent—no language like it.
He spoke as a tribal chief to his feudatories. “For four years,” he said, “I have not found myself in a place like this or in such company”—you could see how he was loving it. Then he told them how Iraq was to rise on their endeavours with himself at their head. “Oh Arabs are you at peace with one another?” They shouted: “Yes, yes, we are at peace.” “From this day—what is the date?—and what is the hour?”—someone answered him. “From this day the 25th of July (only he gave the Mohammadan date) and the hour of the morning 11 (it was 11 o’clock) any tribesman who lifts his hand against a tribesman is responsible to me. I will judge between you, calling your shaikhs in counsel. I have my rights over you as your Lord.”

  A grey bearded man interrupted: “And our rights?” “And you have your rights as subjects which it is my business to guard.”

  So it went on, the tribesmen interrupting him with shouts of “Yes, yes,” “We agree,” “Yes, by God.” It was like the descriptions of great tribal gatherings in the Days of Ignorance, before the Prophet, when the poets recited verse which has come down to this day and the people shouted at the end of each phrase: “The truth, by God the truth!”

  When it was over Fahad and Ali Sulaiman stood up on either side of him and said, “We swear allegiance to you because you are acceptable to the British Government.” Faisal was a little surprised. He looked quickly round to me, smiling, and then he said, “No one can doubt what my relations are to the British, but we must settle our affairs between ourselves.” He looked at me again and I held out my two hands clasped together as a symbol of the union of the Arab and British Governments.