Letters From Baghdad

by Bell, Gertrude

  If I'm not mistaken, public opinion is crystallizing hard in our favour and I believe if H.M.G. would put the issue openly and clearly the large majority would declare for us on any terms.

  To H.B.

  BAGDAD, June 2nd, 1922.

  Yes, there wasn't one moment of our fortnight in Palestine that was not perfect. Everything helped — the lovely country and the nice people, but they were only the setting of the picture, which was you. There's no doubt that being with you is the most enjoyable thing known. Haven't you got your niche in the East ...

  The Minister of the Interior telephoned to tell me that a group of extremists were planning a big demonstration against the mandate for the afternoon. The King had ordered it to be stopped and did I know where Mr. Cornwallis was? With that, Mr. C. came in and I left him to deal with the Minister. At five Mr. Cooke and I went out on another round of visits and got through some ten notables or more. There was a good deal of talk about the attempted demonstration and very plain speaking as to how this kind of thing could not be tolerated.

  It was a horrible day that Tuesday of the Id. A south wind which scorched you and even at night was extremely hot. It has been better since, but summer has set in and you can't mistake it. Yesterday there were races to which I went — rather late in the afternoon, sat in the King's box and had a most cheerful talk with him. He was rather pleased with himself and I hastened to assure him that he had every reason for gratification. The extremist papers have been outrageous, describing the Sunday business as an immense popular demonstration.

  The High Commissioner gave a Garden Party for the King's birthday. I had prepared the Arab list — all officials and nobles quite apart from their political opinions. They all came — trust Lady Cox for that! — and we hobnobbed with most of the people who led the rebellion two years ago. Sir Percy told me to look after the King and wallahi I did it well! First of all I took him round all the groups of Arab officials and notables. He made the circle, saying the right thing to everyone — he plays his part. Then we got him established in a corner of the lawn and I brought up all the wives of Advisors so far as I could catch them, and gave each one a short audience with him. Also the new French Consul and his wife, the eldest son of the Naqib and any one else whom I thought he ought to speak to...

  Faisal has hitched his wagon to the stars...At the bottom of his mind he trusts us and believes that one or two of us would go to the stake for him and that's the strongest hold We have of him...

  Oh, darling, isn't the human equation immensely interesting. I feel as if I and all of us were playing the most magical tunes on their heart strings, drawn taut by the desperate case in which they find themselves. Can they succeed in setting Up a reasonable government? Can they save themselves from chaos? Their one cry is "Help us." And one sits there, in their eyes an epitome of human knowledge, and feeling oneself so very far from filling the bill! Poor children of Adam, they and we! I'm not sure (but perhaps that's because of my sex) that the emotional link between us isn't the better part of wisdom, but I wish I had a little more real wisdom to offer. However, Sir Percy has plenty...

  To-day the vernacular press was full of Lord Apsley [who had come over as representing the Morning Post) gratitude for the part the Morning Post had played in the Palestine question and hope that he would now direct his attention to that of Iraq. The leaders of the people will meet the Lord and expound to him the position, in which no doubt he will be deeply interested.

  At five I took the Lord to tea with the King. I told him all that there was in the papers and he replied that he was to meet all the extremists to-morrow at Kadhaimain. I gave him the lie of the land and I've no doubt he will do extremely well. For in conversation with the King he was quite admirable — I'm free to confess that I translated like an angel! ...We talkked over the whole mandate question with complete amity. Lord A. developed the reasons for which we had to have recourse to a mandate — a means of obtaining the consent of the powers to our treaty and of persuading the British Nation that we had accepted a responsibility and were bound to fulfil it etc. The King asked whether he saw any objection to a combined protest on the part of ourselves and the Arabs to the League of Nations against the mandatory relation once the treaty was an accomplished fact. Lord A. said on the contrary the Morning Post would do all it could to help us, but they must get the treaty through first otherwise all our enemies would declare that the Arab nation did not want us. The King enthusiastically agreed.

  At the en, Lord Apsley, who really is a diplomat of the highest order, said that now he wanted to come to something really serious. They all pricked their ears — "Yes," he said "a thing of real importance — when are you going to have a polo team?" They were delighted...

  In that we took our leave and I'll wager that a very pleasant impression remained with us. It was one of the most useful talks I've ever heard at the palace and I'm infinitely grateful to Lord Apsley for the skill with which he conducted it. I confided to him that I had been a very good interpreter, to which he replied that the Mufti of Jerusalem had told him that he had never heard better Arabic than mine on the lips of a foreigner. I was gratified by this...

  To H.B.

  BAGDAD, June 22nd, 1922.

  On the Sunday after I last wrote (June 11th) Mr. Cornwallis, Captain Clayton, Major Murray, Captain Ashton and I went to swim in the Diala. It wasn't a very well chosen day. There was a tempestuous south wind and we, motoring in the teeth of it, felt as if we were motoring through Hell. We hit the Diala in the wrong place, found it full of people bathing and had to go hunting for a better. I don't remember to have yet performed my toilet so completely in the open, it was merely by the mercy of providence that cows and women were the only spectators — had our swim in the dark — the Diala was running very strong still — and then sat on the high bank very peacefully and ate our cold dinner oh, above all drank our cold drinks! The wind dropped, night hushed the chattering in some Arab tents close by, the river hurried below us and a late moon lifted its distorted shape out of the East and spread a soft light over the interminable miles of desert thorn. We lay there till past nine talking of the Iraq and the Arabs and the things we are doing...

  Next day I went to tea with the King and had one of the most interesting talks I've ever had with him...

  When if ever we come up to eternal judgment, you may be very sure that we shall ultimately be graded according to the very highest point we have been able to reach...Faisal on that day will come out very high. He surges up a long long way across the heavenly strand; the tide goes down again, but he has been there and left his little line of sea gold on the shore.

  On Thursday I took Mrs. Wilkinson to tea with some Arab ladies — I'm always taking some of our nice Englishwomen out to tea like that; it's such a help.

  in the evening I had an evening party in my garden 9/11:30. Coffee and ices and talk under my lanterns. I asked about ten Arabs and five Englishmen. It was quite brought off and I shall do it again and again...This afternoon there is a very important meeting of Council — the treaty will be laid before the Ministers. I've been getting at Ministers this morning in the interval of writing to you and I suppose nothing more can be done. If it doesn't come out quite straight it will be up to Sir Percy, that great weaver of destinies, to put it right again.

  Elsa will be gratified to hear that the parasol has come and excites the deepest admiration at Court!

  Perhaps someday you might send me a Bridge Box — I haven't one. Also possibly some patience cards?

  To H.B.

  BAGDAD, July 16th, 1922.

  I must begin by a really remarkable observation on the weather. They are repairing something to do with the electric current and in consequence it's off till 1 p.m. and no fans. Nevertheless on this mid July Sunday morning as I am sitting, in a thorough draught it's true, between door and window, but quite cool enough to write to you with comfort, the temperature can't be over 100 degrees. I don't think we've had it over 110 this year, and gene
rally, as to-day, a jolly north wind. My office is unfortunately the worst spot in Bagdad; it's sheltered from every breeze and exposed to every ray of the sun. My house, on the other hand, is wonderfully cool.

  The King and the Naqib have proclaimed to the listening Universe that they will never, so help them God, accept the Mandate. H.M.G. have replied that they can conclude no treaty except by reason of the right to do so given to them by the League of Nations — i.e., the mandate.

  I think I've said before, but anyway I'll say right here, that I'm convinced that no country in the world can work a mandate...The Arabs won't submit to any diminution of their sovereign rights such as being placed in tutelage under the L. of N. They are ready to exercise those rights in such manner as to bind themselves by treaty to accept advice in return for help.

  We had a great function later in the afternoon — the opening of our Anglo-Arab Club. Sir Percy was there and was perfectly delightful to everyone. It's a man's club but I was asked to the party though I'm not a member. And our dashing Euphrates sheikhs were there, half a dozen of them, all up here to see the treaty put through, if they can. It remains to be seen whether the club will be a success — it is designed to be a common meeting ground...

  Oh, we're up against such problems — the formation of political parties is the first. The extremists are already in the field and I'm pushing and dragging the others into the open.

  Here is an engaging picture of the General Staff of the Iraq Army having their new drill. Jafar Pasha appears saliently on the extreme left.

  July 17th. Yesterday's experiences were as usual remarkable. Feeling very energetic for once, I got up at five and rode out to Karradah to breakfast with Haji Naji on scrumptious roasted fish. While I was sitting in his summer house a curious episode occurred. There strode in a youngish man in the dress of a Dervish who announced that he had come as a guest. Haji Naji replied that he was busy and bade him begone. The man blustered a little, looked sharply at me and said he had just as much right to be a guest as others and finally went out and sat down just outside a mat-walled summer house. Haji Naji called the servants and one of his sons and told them to send the man away. They failed to make him move. Presently he began to read out the Koran in a loud voice. This was more than I could bear and I went out and told him, by God, to clear out. He said "I am reading the Holy Book." I replied I know you are — get out or I shall send for the police." He replied irrelevantly "I rely on God." I said "God's a long way off and the police very near," and with that I picked up his iron staff and gently poked him up. He made up his mind that he was beaten and saying "Because you are here I shall go", picked up himself and his Koran and made off...If I hadn't sent the man away Haji would have been absolutely helpless. A man who sits down on your threshold to read the Koran can only be regarded, in theory, as a blessing — you can't lift him. Curious, wasn't it? I shall tell the police to keep an eye on any dervish wandering about in Karradah...

  10 P.M. I've just heard by telephone that the Ministers passed the treaty at this afternoon's meeting...

  We're having a heat wave — I think the temperature must have been up to 120 degrees to-day. One knows at once when the thermometer runs up by the intolerable hotness of everything one touches. Mr. Cooke, Major Wilson and I accepted the invitation of Sabih Bey, Minister of P.W.D., to bathe from his house in Muadhdham. It was an ideal place. A delightful house with two courtyards full of flowering oleanders; you undress like a lady in Sabih Bey's bedroom, climb down the wall of his house by a ladder and so by a steep sandy bank straight into deep water- -so swiftly deep that you can dive in off the bank. You swim lazily down in the soft warm water under the high fortress-like walls of Muadhdham river front, after which, if you're me, you come to shore and run up Ahe bank to your starting point, but if you're Mr. Cooke you swim gallantly up against the current. That over, we drank many glasses of grape juice and so motored home...

  To-day the King ordered me to tea and we had two hours most excellent talk. First of all I got his assistance for my Law of Excavations which I've compiled with the utmost care in consultation with the legal authorities. He has undertaken to push it through Council — he's perfectly sound about archaeology, having been trained by T. E. Lawrence — and has agreed to my suggestion that he should appoint me, if Sir Percy consents, provisional Director of Archaeology to his government, in addition to my other duties. I should then be able to run the whole thing in direct agreement with him, Which would be excellent.

  To H.B.

  Bagdad, July 30th, 1922.

  I left off in the beginning of a heat wave which I trust is now nearly over. The day after I wrote to you, the 21st, I got so tired of being hot that I thought I would try and mend it by being hotter so I went out riding about. I didn't go very far but before I got home I felt more like having a heat-stroke than I've ever felt in my life and when I looked in the looking glass my face was scarlet all over. I put my head quickly into iced water and recovered at once. I had a party in my garden that night — it was far too hot and I'm having no more until it gets cooler...

  To H.B.

  BAGDAD, August 15th, 1922.

  We are having a very exhausting time, physically and politically. Physically because of the incredibly horrible weather. It's not very hot, never much over 110, but heavy and close beyond all belief. Every two or three days I get up in the morning wondering why, instead of getting up, I don't lie down and die. At the end of the day one feels absolutely dead beat. Then for a day or two one is better, for no special reason, and then again moribund. It's not only me; everyone is the same...

  On Sunday 6th the King invited us to a picnic. I walked with the King through the wonderful palm gardens and out to the desert. For the sixth time I've watched the dates ripen. Six times I've seen the palms take on the likeness of huge Crown Imperials, with the yellow date clusters hanging like immense golden flowers below the feathery fronds...The King took us back in his launch and as we slipped past the palm groves he and I laid plans to write the history of the Arab revival from first to last, from his diaries and my knowledge. It would be a remarkable tale.

  Father, you do realise, don't you, how the magic and the fascination of it all holds one prisoner? ...

  Yesterday in a perfectly infernal climate and feeling fit to die I worked from 7 to 1:30 in the office, came home and lunched and worked uninterruptedly from 2:30 to six, after which I went to a Committee meeting and then to a dinner at the French consulate where we played Bridge till midnight. I came home feeling like a horrible spectre.

  The High Commissioner has telegraphed home that he doesn't see any advantage in Faisal's going to England. He recommends that we should publish the treaty, say that we're all agreed upon it and that the sole point of difference is the mandate. On that point the electors of the Iraq must decide; if they decide against it we will evacuate to-morrow. The King is delighted with this proposed solution.

  But will our Government accept this suggestion? That's what we want to know, for being all away grouse shooting we can get no answer to any telegrams however urgent...

  August 16th. This was one of the moribund days, nevertheless I've been extremely busy. Any quantity of Sheikhs came in this morning...I really believe they are getting to work. They have parcelled out the whole country according to administrative divisions. There's a head branch in every divisional headquarter and sub-branches in every district; the sheikhs are going back to organise them. Their tails are up sky high. They declare they'll bring in the whole country...And the sheikhs from further afield are trooping in to register themselves as members. They are the people I love, I know every Tribal chief of any importance through the whole length and breadth of Iraq and I think them the backbone of the country.

  One has to take one's courage in one's hands when a wrong decision may mean universal chaos.

  Meantime all these internal hostilities that are so gravely Preoccupying us may well be obliterated by the growing menace of the Kamalists of our northern
frontier...

  Now I come to think of it I can't imagine how you can bear to wade through all these reams of Iraq politics — can you bear it

  August 18th, 1922. As there's an immense cryptic telegram from home — not deciphered yet. No doubt it contains the answer which we think will decide our fate.

  I can't see any prospect of getting away this autumn, unless the whole thing blows up — a possible contingency. If it doesn't we shall be in the thick of a general election and the Constituent Assembly should be meeting towards the end of the year. But Iraq and everything else may go to the dogs before I stay here another summer. I should not be telling the truth if I did not observe that my disappearance from the scene at the present juncture would fill the breasts of my tribal sheikhs with dismay...

  To H.B.

  August 27th, 1922.

  On Sunday evening August 20th we escaped from politics for a happy hour or two. The King came out bathing and picnicking with us and we had the usual party. It was my picnic and I did it beautifully. We roasted great fishes on spits over a fire of palm fronds — the most delicious food in the world — I brought carpets and cushions and hung old Bagdad lanterns in the tamarisk bushes where we kept simple state in the rosy stillness of the sunset. "This is peace," said the King. We lay on our cushions for a couple of hours after dinner while he and Nuri and Mr. Cornwallis told stories of the Syrian campaign — I have seldom passed a more enchanting evening.

  Next day we were back in the turmoil.

  Wednesday was the anniversary of the accession, August 23rd. I rode with His Majesty before breakfast on Tuesday morning to see his cotton farm...It is a tremendous cavalcade when the King goes out riding — A.D.C.'s behind us and four lancers of the body guard bringing up the rear...