by E. F. Benson
Germany saw, Germany tabulated, Germany licked her lips and took out her long spoon, for her hour was come. She did not interfere: she only helped to further the Pan-Turkish ideal. With her usual foresight she perceived that the Izji, for instance, was a thing to encourage, for the boys who were being trained now would in a few years be precisely the young men of whom she could not have too many. By all means the boy scout movement was to be encouraged. She encouraged it so generously and methodically that in 1916, according to an absolutely reliable source of information, we find that the whole boy scout movement, with its innumerable branches, was under the control of a German officer, Colonel von Hoff. In its classes (derneks) boys are trained in military practices, in ‘a recreational manner,’ so that they enjoy — positively enjoy (a Prussian touch) — the exercises that will fit them to be of use to the Sultan William II. They learn trigger-drill, they learn skirmishing, they are taught to make reports on the movements of their companies, they are shown neat ways of judging distances. They are divided into two classes, the junior class ranging from the ages of twelve to seventeen, the senior class consisting of boys over seventeen, but not yet of military age. But since Colonel von Hoff organised this, the military age has been extended, and boys of seventeen have got to serve their country on German fronts. Prussian thoroughness, therefore, saw that their training must begin earlier; the old junior class has become the senior class, and a new junior class has been set on foot which begins its recreational exercises in the service of William II., Got and Allah, at the age of eight. It is all great fun, but those pigeon-livered little boys who are not diverted by it have to go on with their fun all the same, for, needless to say, the Izji is compulsory on all boys. Of course they wear a uniform which is made in Germany and is of a ‘semi-military’ character.
The provision of soldiers and sailors, then, trained from the early age of eight, was the first object of Germany’s peaceful and benign penetration. As from the Pisgah height of the Pan-Turkish ideal she saw the promised land, but she had no idea of seeing it only, like Moses, and expiring without entering it, and her faith that she would enter it and possess it and organise it has been wonderfully justified. She has not only penetrated, but has dominated; a year ago towns like Aleppo were crammed with German officers, while at Islahie there were separate wooden barracks for the exclusive use of German troops. There is a military mission at Mamoura, where all the buildings are permanent erections solidly built of stone, for no merely temporary occupation is intended, and thousands of freight-cars with Belgian marks upon them throng the railways, and on some is the significant German title of ‘Military Headquarters of the Imperial Staff.’ There are troops in the Turkish army, to which is given the title of ‘Pasha formation,’ in compliment to Turkey, but the Pasha formations are under command of Baron Kress von Kressenstein, and are salted with German officers, N.C.O.’s, and privates, who, although in the Turkish army, retain their German uniforms.
This German leaven forms an instructional class for the remainder of the troops in these formations, who are Turkish. The Germans are urged to respect Moslem customs and to show particular consideration for their religious observances. Every German contingent arriving at Constantinople to join the Pasha formations finds quarters prepared on a ship, and when the troops leave for their ‘destination’ they take supplies from depots at the railway station which will last them two or three months. They are enjoined to write war diaries, and are provided with handbooks on the military and geographical conditions in Mesopotamia, with maps, and with notes on the training and management of camels. This looks as if they were intended for use against the English troops in Mesopotamia, but I cannot find that they have been identified there. The greatest secrecy is observed with regard to those Pasha formations, and their constitution and movements are kept extremely well veiled.
Wireless stations have been set up in Asia Minor and Palestine, and these are under the command of Major Schlee. A Turkish air-service was instituted, at the head of which was Major Serno, a Prussian officer, and Turkish aviators are now in training at Ostend, where they will very usefully defend their native country. At Constantinople there is a naval school for Turkish engineers and mechanics in the arsenal, to help on the Pan-Turkish ideal, and with a view to that all the instructors are German: a floating dock is in construction at Ismid, and the order has been placed with German firms. It will be capable of accommodating ships of Dreadnought build, which is a new departure for the strictly Pan-Turkish ideal. The cost is £740,000, to be repaid three years after the end of the war. Similarly, by the spring of this year, Germany had arranged to start submarine training in Constantinople for the Turks, and a submarine school was open and at work in March. A few months later it was established at the island of Prinkipo, where it is now hard at work under German instructors. Other naval cadets were sent to Germany for their training, and Turkish officers were present at the battle of Jutland in June 1916, and of course were decorated by the Emperor in person for their coolness and courage.[]
In October 1917 a bill was passed for the entire remodelling of the Turkish fleet after the war, on the lines of the German fleet, ‘which proved its perfect training in the battle of Skager Rak.’
A complete revision of the Turkish system of exemptions from military service was necessary as soon as Germany began to want men badly. The age for military service was first raised, and we find a Turkish order of October 1916, calling on all men of forty-three, forty-four, and forty-five years of age to pay their exemption tax if they did not wish to be called to the colours. That secured their money, and, with truly Prussian irony, hardly had this been done when a fresh army order was issued calling out all men, whether they had paid their exemption tax or not. Germany thus secured both their money and their lives.
Still more men were needed, and in November a fresh levy of boys was raised regardless of whether they had reached the military age or not. This absorbed the senior class of the boy scouts, who hitherto had learned their drill in a ‘recreationary manner.’ Neither Jews nor Christians are exempt from service, and frequent press gangs go round Constantinople rounding up those who are in hiding.
Again the Prussian Moloch was hungry for more, and in December 1916 the Turkish Gazette announced that all males in Asia Minor between the ages of fourteen and sixty-five were to be enrolled for military service, and in January of this year, 1917, fresh recruiting was foreshadowed by the order that men of forty-six to fifty-two, who had paid their exemption money, should be medically examined to see if they were fit for active service. This fresh recruiting was also put in force in the case of boys, and during the summer of 1917 all boys above the age of twelve, provided they were sound and well-built, were taken for the army. Wider and wider the net was spread, and in the same month a fresh Turco-German convention was signed, whereby was enforced a reciprocal surrender in both countries of persons liable to military service, and of deserters, and simultaneously all Turks living in Switzerland, and who had paid exemption money, were recalled to their Germanised fatherland. By now the first crops of the year were ripening in Smyrna, and in default of civilian labour (for every one was now a soldier) they were reaped by Turkish soldiers and the produce sent direct to Germany.
Already in August 1916, certificates of Ottoman nationality had been granted to Serbians resident in the Empire who were willing to become Ottoman subjects, and their ‘willingness’ was intensified by hints that incidents akin to the Armenian massacres might possibly occur among other alien peoples. They had to sign a declaration that they would not revert to their former nationality, and thus, no doubt, many Serbs passed into the Turkish army. Further enrolments were desirable, and, in March 1917, all Greeks living in Anatolia were forcibly proselytised, their property was confiscated, and they were made liable to military service. Unfortunately all were not available, for of those who were removed from the villages where they lived to military centres, ten per cent. died on the forced marches from hunger and exp
osure. That was annoying for the German recruiting agents, but it suited well enough the Pan-Turkish ideal of exterminating foreign nationalities. When trouble or discontent occurred among the troops, it was firmly dealt with, as, for instance, when, in November 1916, there were considerable desertions from the 49th Division. On that occasion the order was given to fire on them, and many were killed and wounded. The officer who gave the order was commended by the Prussian authorities for his firmness. Should such an incident occur again, it will no doubt be dealt with no less firmness, for, in April 1917, Mackensen was put in supreme command of all troops in Asia Minor. But in spite of this desertions have largely increased lately, and during the summer deserters out of all the Turkish armies were believed to number about 200,000. Many of those have formed themselves into brigand bands, who make the roads dangerous for travellers. The exchange of honours goes on, for not long ago, in Berlin, Prince Zia-ed-Din, the Turkish Sultan’s heir, presented a sword of honour to the Sultan William II. Probably he gave him good news of the progress of the German harbour works begun in the winter at Stamboul, and himself learned that the railway bridge which the Turks proposed to build over the Bosporus was not to be proceeded with, for the German high command had superseded that scheme by their own idea of making a tunnel under the Bosporus instead, which would be safer from aircraft.
Such up-to-date, though in brief outline, is the history of the establishment of the Prussian octopus grip on military and naval matters in Turkey. We have largely ourselves to blame for it. Upon that pathetic and lamb-like record of our diplomacy during the months between the outbreak of the European War, and the entry of Turkey into it in October 1914, it would be morbid to dwell at any length, though a short summary is necessary. As we all know now, Turkey had concluded a treaty with Germany early in August, and when our Ambassador in Constantinople, Sir Louis Malet, who was on leave in England at that date, returned to his post on August 16th, all that Turkey wanted was to gain time in which to effect her mobilisation. This she did, with complete success, and our Ambassador telegraphed to England stating his perfect confidence in the sincerity with which the Grand Vizier professed his friendship for England. All through those weeks of August and September this confidence appeared to continue unabated. The Moderate party in Turkey — that is to say, the hoodwinking party — were reported to be daily gaining strength, and it was most important that the Allies should give them every assistance, and above all not precipitate matters. All was going well: all we had to do was to wait. So we waited, still blindly confident in the sincerity of Turkey’s friendship for England, while the mobilisation of the Turkish forces proceeded merrily. By the end of September this was nearly complete, and quite suddenly the Ambassador informed the Foreign Office that Turkey appeared to be temporising. That was perfectly true, but the period of temporisation was nearly over, and by mid-October Turkey had something like 800,000 men under arms, and for nine weeks Enver Pasha had had his signed treaty with Germany in his pocket. Possibly this diplomatic procrastination was useful to us, for it enabled us to bring troops from India in security, and send others to Egypt. But without doubt it was useful to the Turks, for it enabled them to mobilise their armies, and to strengthen enormously the defences of the Dardanelles. Then came the day when Germany and Turkey were ready, the attack was made on Odessa, and out of Constantinople we went. We climbed into the railway carriages that took the last rays of English influence out of the Ottoman Empire, and steep were the stairs in the house of a stranger! Turks are not much given to laughter, but Enver Pasha must at least have smiled on that day.
Already, of course, German influence was strong in the army, which now was thoroughly trained in German methods, but that army might still be called a Turkish army. Nowadays, by no stretch of language can it be called Turkish except in so far that all Turkish efficient manhood is helplessly enlisted in it, for there is no branch or department of it over which the Prussian octopus has not thrown its paralysing tentacles and affixed its immovable suckers. Army and navy alike, the wireless stations, the submarines, the aircraft, are all directly controlled from Berlin, and, as we have seen, the generalissimo of the forces is Mackensen, who is absolutely the Hindenburg of the East. But thorough as is the control of Berlin over Constantinople in military and naval matters, it is not one whit more thorough than her control in all other matters of national life. Never before has Germany been very successful in her colonisation; but if complete domination — the sucking of a country till it is a mere rind of itself, and yet at the same time full to bursting of Prussian ichor — may be taken as Germany’s equivalent of colonisation, then indeed we must be forced to recognise her success. And it was all done in the name and for the sake of the Pan-Turkish ideal. Even now Prussian Pecksniffs like Herr Ernst Marré, whose pamphlet, Die Türken und Wir nach dem Kriege, was published in 1916, continue to insist that Germany is nobly devoting herself to the well-being of Turkey. ‘In doing this,’ he exclaims in that illuminating document, ‘we are benefiting Turkey.... This is a war of liberation for Turkey,’ though omitting to say from whom Turkey is being liberated. Perhaps the Armenians. Occasionally, it is true, he forgets that, and naively remarks, ‘Turkey is a very difficult country to govern. But after the war Turkey will be very important as a transit country.’ But then he remembers again and says, ‘We wish to give besides taking, and we should often like to give more than we can hope to give.’ Let us look into this, and see the manner in which Germany expresses her yearning to impoverish herself for the sake of Turkey.
All this reorganisation of the Turkish army was of course a very expensive affair, and required skilful financing, and it was necessary to get the whole of Turkey’s exchequer arrangements into German hands. A series of financial regulations was promulgated. The Finance Minister, during 1916, was still Turkish, but the official immediately under him was a German. He was authorised to deposit with the Controllers of the Ottoman National Debt German Imperial Bills of £T30,000,000, and to issue German paper money to the like amount. This arrangement insures the circulation of the German notes, which are redeemable by Turkey in gold two years after the declaration of peace. Gold is declared to be the standard currency, and no creditor is obliged to accept in payment of a debt more than 300 piastres in silver or fifty in nickel. And since there is no gold in currency (for it has been all called in, and penalties of death have been authorised for hoarders) it follows that this and other issues of German paper will filter right through the Empire. At the same time a German expert, Dr. Kautz, was appointed to start banks throughout Turkey in order to free the peasants from the Turkish village usurer, and in consequence enslave them to the German banks. Similarly a German was put at the head of the Ottoman Agricultural Bank. These new branches worked very well, but it is pleasant to think that one such was started by the Deutsche Bank at Bagdad in October 1916, which now has its shutters up. Before this, as we learn from the Oesterreichischer Volkswirt (June 1916), Germany had issued other gold notes, in payment for gold from Turkey, which is retainable in Berlin till six months after the end of the war. (It is reasonable to wonder whether it will not be retained rather longer than that.) These gold notes were accepted willingly at first by the public, but the increase in their number (by the second issue) has caused them to be viewed with justifiable suspicion, and the depreciation in them continues. But the Turkish public has no redress except by hoarding gold, which is a penal offence. That these arrangements have not particularly helped Turkish credit may be gathered from the fact that the Turkish gold £1, nominally 100 piastres, was very soon worth 280 piastres in the German paper standard, and it now fetches a great deal more.
Again, the Deutsche Orientbank has made many extensions, and is already financing cotton and wool trade for after the war. The establishment of this provoked much applause in German financial circles, who find it to be an instance of the ‘far-reaching and powerful Germano-Austrian unity, which replaces the disunion of Turkish finance.’ This is profoundly true, espe
cially if we omit the word ‘Austrian’ inserted for diplomatic reasons. Again we find Germany advancing £3,000,000 of German paper to the Turkish Government in January 1917, for the payment of supplies they have received from Krupp’s works and (vaguely) for interest to the German Financial Minister. This, too, we may conjecture, is to be redeemed after the war in gold.
In March of this year we find in the report of the Ottoman Bank a German loan of £1,000,000 for the purchase of agricultural implements by Turkey, and this is guaranteed by house-taxes. In all up to that month, as was announced in the Chamber of Deputies at Constantinople, Germany had advanced to Turkey the sum of £142,000,000, entirely, it would seem, in German paper, to be repaid at various dates in gold. The grip, in fact, is a strangle-hold, all for Turkey’s good, as no doubt will prove the ‘New Conventions’ announced by Zimmermann in May 1917, to take the place of the abolished Capitulations, ‘which left Turkey at the mercy of predatory Powers who looked for the disruption of the Ottoman Empire.’ Herr Zimmermann does not look for that: he looks for its absorption. And sees it.
The industrial development of Turkey by this benevolent and disinterested Power has been equally thorough and far-reaching, though Germany here has had a certain amount of competition by Hungary to contend against, for Hungary considered that Germany was trespassing on her sphere of interest. But she has been able to make no appreciable headway against her more acute partner, and her application for a monopoly of sugar-production was not favourably received, for Germany already had taken the beet industry well in hand. In Asia Minor the acreage of cultivation early in 1917 had fallen more than 50 per cent. from that under crops before the war, but owing to the importation of machinery from the Central Powers, backed up by a compulsory Agricultural Service Law, which has just been passed, it is hoped that the acreage will be increased this year by something like 30 per cent. The yield per acre also will be greatly increased this year, for Germany has, though needing artificial manures badly herself, sent large quantities into Turkey, where they will be more profitably employed. She has no fear about securing the produce. This augmented yield will, it is true, not be adequate to supply the needs of Turkey, who for the last two years has suffered from very acute food shortage, which in certain districts has amounted to famine and wholesale starvation of the poorer classes. But it is unlikely that their needs will be considered at all, for Germany’s needs (she, the fairy godmother of the Pan-Turk ideal) must obviously have the first call on such provisions as are obtainable. Thus, in the new preserved meat factory at Aidin, the whole of the produce is sent to Germany. Thus, too, though in February 1917 there was a daily shortage in Smyrna of 700 sacks of flour, and the Arab and Greek population was starving, no flour at all was allowed to be imported into Smyrna. But simultaneously Germany was making huge purchases of fish, meat, and flour in Constantinople (paid for in German paper), including 100,000 sheep. Yet such was the villainous selfishness of the famine-stricken folk at Adrianople that, when the trains containing these supplies were passing through, a mob held them up and sold the contents to the inhabitants. That, however, was an isolated instance, and in any case a law was passed in October 1916, appointing a military commission to control all supplies. It enacts that troops shall be supplied first, and specially ordains that the requirements of German troops come under this head. (Private firms have been expressly prohibited from purchasing these augmented wheat supplies, but special permission was given in 1915 to German and Austro-Hungarian societies to buy.) A few months later we find that there are a hundred deaths daily in Constantinople from starvation, and two hundred in Smyrna, where there is a complete shortage of oil. But oil is still being sent to Germany, and during 1916 five hundred reservoirs of oil were sent there, each containing up to 15,000 kilogrammes. Similarly during this summer the price of fruit has gone up in Smyrna, for the Germans have reopened certain factories for preserving it and turning it into jam, which is being sent to Germany. The sugar is supplied from the new beet-fields of Konia. But Kultur must be supplied first, else Kultur would grow lean, and the Turkish God of Love will look after the Smyrniotes. It is no wonder that the blockade of Germany does not produce the desired result a little quicker, for food is already pouring in from Turkey, and when the artificial manures have produced their early harvest the stream will become a torrent.[]