Baghdad Nov 29 Darling Father. I always mean to write to you gradually through the week but I'm so busy that I never get it done and in the end I don't tell you half as much as I would like to. The news of the defeat of Wrangel[?] and the final union between the Turks and Bolshevists has made a great impression here. The effects are various. The pro-Turks who do not want an Arab Govt (and they are not inconsiderable in number, chiefly ex-Turkish officials) are delighted and are loudly declaring in the coffee shops that Turkey with the aid of the Bolshevists will ultimately save this country from the foreigner. The sincere Nationalists of Ja'far Pasha's type are genuinely alarmed. They know there is a strong Turkish element in the country, not to speak of an anarchic and tribal element, and they fear that their hope of establishing Arab rule here may be dashed just as it was reaching fulfilment. They look upon us as their only stay and they are very anxious to get back from Syria the 'Iraqi officers who served with Faisal, Bellieving that the true spirit of Arab nationalism lives in them. In general I agree with this view but there is one very important exception - Yasin Pasha, vide my Syrian report if you still have it. A recent arrival from Syria, Rashid Beg al Khojah, an able and I think an upright man who will probably play a larger role here, came to see me on Tuesday morning with Ja'far. He is very anxious that Yasin should return and Ja'far also inclines that way on the ground that Yasin's brains are too big an asset to relinquish. I said it was essentially a matter for them to decide but I gave them my frank opinion that Yasin is out for himself only and in the final resort is more likely to go Turk or Bolshevist than to stand by the difficult cause of Arab nationalism. They said they would consider the matter carefully but I think they will want him back and I also think he will be a danger to them. It would be very difficult, I admit, to prevent his coming. All the Mesopotamians in Syria will return as soon as arrangements can be made - there are about 150 ex-officers of Faisal's army - and most of them will be very welcome. It would not be easy to make an exception in Yasin's case, but I wish he could be kept away for another 6 or 8 months. And this because everything seems to point to a Turko-Bolshevist attack on our northern frontier before next summer and it will take us all we know to resist it. There may, of course be a turn of the wheel. The Turks and Greeks may come to an agreement which would facilitate a reconciliation between the Nationalist Turks of Anatolia and the Turkish Govt in C'ple [Istanbul (Constantinople)]. The Nationalist, no longer needing Bolshevist force may throw the Bolshevists over - but there are a great many ifs in the proposition. We are greatly hampered by the tribal rising which has delayed the work of handing over to the Arab Govt. Sir Percy, I think rightly, decided that the tribes must be made to submit to force. In no other way was it possible to make them surrender their arms or teach them that you mustn't lightly engage in revolution, even when your holy men tell you to do so. Without the lesson and without the drawing of their teeth by fines of arms (impossible to obtain except by force) we should have left an impossible task to the Arab Govt. Nevertheless it's difficult to be burning villages at one end of the country by means of a British army, and assuring people at the other end that we really have handed over responsibility to native ministers, so far as in their own interests we can do so. The impasse will not be of much longer duration, for the work of the military is very nearly completed. Meantime Sir Percy has held strictly to his doctrine that a general amnesty must wait on submission. The 'ulama have done their best to make him accept them as intermediaries; the tribes have repeatedly asked that negotiations should be conducted through the premier mujtahid, at whose orders they would lay down arms. Sir Percy has stoutly refused - more power to him! The claim of the 'ulama to loose and bind is one of the most formidable problems of the Arab state; the refusal to recognize their political authority is unmitigatedly to the good and I hope it may clip their wings. And it's done with such skill, with such courtesy - the letters to the 'ulama are such as Sir Percy alone knows how to write. Finally - I'm summing up our difficulties - there is the fact that government can't be passed from one hand to another in the twinkle of an eye. The ministers can only gradually be accommodated with offices. Gen. Hambro has dug in his toes about handing over the Sarai, the old Turkish Govt offices now occupied by the military, and employed most unworthy subterfuges to get out of it. It's provokingly silly for it delays compliance with the orders of the War Office, which are that we must bestir ourselves in establishing Arab Govt in order that they may withdraw troops. The nett result is that as yet we have only got the Ministry of the Interior established in the Sarai, the others are pushed in anywhere we can. Sasun Eff. has a room next to Col. Slater in our office; Ja'far Pasha perches in Capt. Clayton's room, and so forth. They can't begin getting together an Arab staff because there is no place for them and consequently, many people whose tongues would be silenced if they were given appointments, which they will be given, now bark and yap in the coffee shops. We are now in the full tide of a Cabinet crisis. Saiyid Talib has resigned and asked to be allowed to go to England with his sons. He produces the most flimsy pretexts - his real motives are I believe as follows: he has laid before the Cabinet a long screed about general amnesty, return of all deportees and so forth. He expects this will be turned down by the Naqib. He will then be able to pose as the true patriot who though ready to work with the English found it impossible to do so - the truth being that he has found that we do not intend to impose him on the country against its wish and he hopes to rally all the extremist element, and even the true nationalist element to himself. The Naqib, however, and several members of the Council are forewarned - Ja'far and Sasun spent most of the morning talking to me. I fancy they will adopt Talib's programme with modifications thereby taking the wind out of his sails. We all agree that his resignation would be regrettable. It would give a shock to the Cabinet which it is as yet too shaky to contemplate with equanimity. At the same time if Talib persists and leaves the country we must put a bold face on it, and no doubt there will be great advantages in getting rid of him - if we can stand the racket. The momentous Cabinet meeting took place this afternoon, but I've not yet heard what happened. I also had a visit this morning from Ahmad Pasha al Sani' of Basrah [Basrah, Al (Basra)] - him we dined with. He has just come up from Basrah to take his seat on the Council. He accepted very reluctantly for he hates Baghdad and all its works (he has never in his life been here before) condemns the folly and ignorance of its people and extols the wisdom and sense of his own townsmen. He declares he stands amazed at the tosh that's talked here - don't they realize when they've got a good thing? Before the British occupation he had to carry a revolver night and day, and he couldn't drive out to see one of his palm gardens without being accompanied by 20 armed men. Whereas, now Basrah is as safe as "London". The railway which he never thought he would live to see was built only to be destroyed by the Arabs. For his part he would like to leave Mesopotamia to stew in its own juice, if only we would hold on to Basrah. I set myself to explain that the juice would pretty soon boil over and scald Basrah; that it was therefore his duty as well as his interest to take a hand in the game, even if it involved staying for a bit in the abominable Baghdad! He was a little moved, I think, by the argument. He won't stay long but while he does, his attitude may be a wholesome corrective. The number of heart to heart talks which take place in my office would surprise you! All the busy bodies come in to say what they're busy bodying and have to be listened to with sympathetic interest and given advice which it's little likely they'll follow. I sometimes wonder whether au fond I'm not a busy body myself. Sir Percy generally sends for me towards the end of the morning and we exchange experiences. I then lunch with him and Lady Cox and Capt Cheesman and though we don't as a rule talk of Mesopotamia, we tell each other stories, relate comic episodes and generally keep in touch. Therefore though an hour in the middle of the day is very difficult to spare I feel that the constant unofficial intercourse is very valuable. Also we often have a Sunday outing. Yesterday Sir P. and I and Capt Cheesman and Captain Pedder (my host of last Sunday) went out shooting on the river bank opposite Ctesiphon. It was a bitterly cold day, the coldest I remember here, with an extraordinarily bitter north wind - just the day to be out of doors and not sit shivering in an office. We started at 7, motored to Ctesiphon, crossed the river in a guffah (you know the round coracles) and beat through the jungle of tamarisk, liquorice poplar and thorn (specially thorn) which grows along the west bank. It's often over your head and getting through it is no small matter. We had about 20 Arab beaters. There were little encampments in the heart of what we call here the "forest" and the people were cutting liquorice and poplar for fuel to send to Baghdad and digging up the liquorice roots. It was wonderfully delicious, the sweet smell of autumn leaves and the wind and the sun and the country people. By one o'clock we got up to a little walled palm and fruit garden Bellonging to Fakhri Jamil (who sent you his photograph) and we sat down in the sun, sheltered by the mud wall to eat our sandwiches. Then we beat back again. We got lots of black partridge. I love walking with the beaters and hearing what they say to each other in the broadest Iraq dialect which I'm proud to understand. Their clothes are amazingly unfitted for any job they're likely to undertake, especially struggling through thorns. And though they're no more, or little more than wild animals, they treat me with constant solicitous politeness, beat down the thorns with their barefeet so as to let me pass and bustle out of the way to give me the easiest place. You're not an Oriental for nothing. They get fearfully excited over the shooting and I really think they enjoyed the day as much as we did - let alone the bakhshish, which they richly deserved. We got home after 5 - a good day. I gave 3 dinner parties last week. To the first came the Coxes, Sir Aylmer, Col. Burnet and Ja'far Pasha. I didn't think it very successful, at least I know I laboured at it like a Trojan and a dinner party oughtn't to produce that feeling in the host. I must say Lady Cox was admirable - very pleasant and chatty, Sir Percy and Col Burnet were both delightful and yet somehow I couldn't make it really weld together. Ja'far Pasha stayed on and talked earnestly about the Bolshevist peril and the need for getting back the officers in Syria. The next party was Mr and Mrs Philby and 3 ardent Young Nationalists. Mrs Philby is a dear, with the most beautiful red hair, but she can't talk any Arabic and though one of my young friends talked excellent English, he was so much thrilled by what Mr Philby was saying about the Council and the electoral law ans so forth that he couldn't think of anything else. I tried to keep her in touch with what was going on but it wasn't quite possible. Otherwise it was an immense success. Mr Philby is excellent with them and I felt we had made an impression. Incidentally they spoke, quite as a matter of course, of how when the elective assembly met it would instantly ask for Faisal as amir! I wish it were as plain sailing as that. They entirely ignore the pro-Turks and Shi'ah frondism and because it doesn't suit their book they say it's not there. But it is, as I know a great deal better than they. Mr Philby and I contented ourselves with saying that nothing would suit us better than there should be a unanimous demand for anybody, which is true. Personally I think that if they could get a good sound majority for a son of Sharif it would kill Turko-Bolshevism. But I don't believe they will get a sound majority for anything. The third dinner party was Capt. Clayton, Mr Philby, Rashid Beg al Khojah, the son of Majid al Shawi (it's he I gave the field glasses to) and the editor of the advanced Nationalist newspaper here which is going Bolshevist fast. He is only a figure head, the editor, himself almost illiterate. He scarcely said anything but we all talked hard on the burning question of the electoral law (on which Mr Philby's views entirely satisfied them), on Bolshevism, which the other two Arabs condemned with conviction, and so forth. It remains to be seen whether the editor learnt any wisdom; if he didn't the moment is near when we shall have to suppress the paper. After the Arabs had gone, Mr Philby and Capt Clayton stayed on till near midnight - Heavens! how we do talk. But there's such a terrible lot to say when you are trying to create a new state against all conceivable odds. Sir Percy and I agreed as we motored yesterday to Ctesiphon, that it's a dispensation the human mind is so created that it can stop thinking about dangers and difficulties. Here are we building sand castles (possibly) against the tide and yet we can spend a whole day doing nothing but take the sun and air like the Dodo in the poem - absit omen! "It will be a pity, won't it" said Sir Percy cheerfully "if this Bolshevist business queers our pitch just when the country has got the first chance it ever had." Yes, it will be a pity. The Tods have been away for 3 weeks at Basrah and have just come back to my great joy. Aurelia came in to see me last night and I lunched with the family today. I've got the bill of lading for the chairs - it's to be opes [sic] they'll materialize before Xmas. Oh dear I would like to go on writing reams more but it's already 10 p.m. and I've still got to tell Mr Hogarth that I can't at this moment write a book for him (having not the time between 12 midnight and 7 am which are my only leisure hours) and one or two other things. So goodbye Belloveds. Your very affectionate daughter Gertrude. I must add two scurrilous poems about the Council composed by a young man in the office: There was an old party who read What Mohammad is said to have said. But they jibbed at the Prophet And bade him keep off it And give them Lord Northcliffe instead. That's the Naqib, you guess and this is Izzat Pasha, Minister for Education, who unfortunately can scarcely handle the Arabic tongue: There was an old man of Kirkuk, Who knew nought of the pen and the book, And was not good at speech, So they set him to teach All the ignorant boys in the suq. Nov 30. [30 November 1920] Stop press news. Talib has withdrawn his resignation!