A Real Romance of Love, War and Politics

Elizabeth (Elsie) Newcombe, née Chaki (1919)

This recently discovered photograph is of the remarkable Elizabeth (Elsie) Chaki, a Jewish girl of Spanish/French heritage, whose father worked for the Levantine Civil Service in Constantinople. Elsie was a spirited twenty-year-old who knew her own mind and had taken great personal risks to help Stewart Francis Newcombe escape from a Turkish prisoner-of-war camp during World War 1, as well as facilitating escape routes for other Allied escapees hiding under cover in the capital. The photo was taken in 1919 on the occasion of her marriage to the 40-year-old colonel, and was published by the media as part of the incredible story of Newcombe's capture, escape and romance that was syndicated around the world. 

Earlier that year, the Paris Peace Conference began on 12 January 1919 with the first of what would be well over a hundred meetings between the leaders of countries seeking a peace that was intended to end war for all time. Within days the town filled with an international contingent working towards a just and lasting settlement based on American President Woodrow Wilson’s 14 Points. Kings, Queens, Emirs, and Presidents answered an instinctive need to be present at the biggest diplomatic time of reckoning in history when the spoils of war would be shared by the victors and the defeated would be asked to pay the price of peace.

After T.E. Lawrence’s firm endorsement of Emir Feisal as the leader most suited to take forward the Arab Revolt on the battlefield, it came as no surprise that he believed that he was also the one who had the greatest chance of success in the negotiations over the future of the Middle East and had therefore sent a message to King Hussein suggesting that Hussein should send Feisal as the Arab representative at the Conference.

On the eve of his own departure, Lawrence appeared realistic about the possibility of the Arabs achieving their aims when he wrote to a friend, "We may find ourselves shut out, or let in, or on the same ground as the rest of the earth. And till the end of the conference I cannot tell you. At present everything is evenly balanced."

Faisal and his entourage arrived in the midst of this gathering circus and were immediately told the devastating news that as the Hejaz delegation had no official status it could not be given representation and therefore their case would not be heard. Lawrence made light of the impasse but thereafter all his time was spent in a frantic round of meetings with politicians and journalists to push the Arab agenda to the forefront.

The Arab delegation cut a colourful and intriguing impression on the other delegates. Faisal, whose voice it was even said, "seemed to breathe the perfume of frankincense", was accompanied everywhere by his large Nubian bodyguard, complete with dagger. A retinue of advisors, many in flowing robes, drifted regally through the meeting rooms of the conference, causing a stir wherever they went. Lawrence, especially, missed no opportunity to appear in his now familiar Arab head-dress over his colonel’s uniform, reinforcing his close association with Faisal and the Arab cause. When the occasion demanded, he would even don the full robes of an Arab Emir and was described as "gliding along the corridors" of the Hotel Majestic on his way to another meeting to press the case for Arab representation before the so-called 'Big Four' - Lloyd George of Britain, Vittorio Emanuele Orlando of Italy, Georges Clemenceau of France, and Woodrow Wilson of the U.S.

Churchill was especially struck by the transformation that came over Lawrence during these times, describing how "the full magnificence of his countenance revealed itself." When Churchill wrote these words in 1935, Britain was soon to face its finest hour and in need of a mythical Arthurian figure waiting in the wings to answer the call to arms once again. Churchill’s words fitted the moment, and the need:

"From amid the flowing draperies his noble features, his perfectly chiselled lips, and flashing eyes loaded with fire and comprehension shone forth. He looked what he was, one of nature’s greatest princes."

Throughout his time in Paris, Lawrence remained optimistic, at least in front of Faisal, but was a little premature when he suggested that the conference had nearly run its course and would be wrapped up by mid February. "Another fortnight, perhaps," he had written hopefully to his mother. In fact, the conference was to grind on for six full months of debating, arguing and horse-trading before treaties were made, borders moved, countries created, and reparations imposed upon an adversary not yet thoroughly defeated; six months during which hopes and dreams were realised or dashed, old wounds were reopened, expectations rose and fell, and fresh injustices were heaped upon the misery of the previous four years. Clemenceau summed up the challenge in an aside to a colleague: "It is much easier to make war than peace." His assessment ultimately proved correct with the result that a lasting solution to the so called ‘Syrian Question’ - that vaguely defined region that included Palestine - has so far proved insurmountable.

By the end of the month, Lawrence complained to his mother: "I have had, personally, one meal in my hotel since I got to Paris!" Happily, that meal was shared with a welcome ally. Newcombe had turned up unexpectedly.

The two friends had much to discuss, not least Newcombe’s first-hand account of his amazing Boy's Own adventures. Lawrence’s amusement at discovering that his friend was betrothed to marry can only be guessed at. Newcombe was anxiously awaiting news that Elsie had been given permission to leave the Turkish capital; Paris would be perfect for their long-awaited reunion. In the meantime, within just a few short weeks since leaving the arena of hostilities, the two men were thrown into the equally hostile and unpredictable world of high politics. When Elsie eventually arrived, it was a bright spot during a testing period for both men. Before she met Lawrence for the first time, Newcombe felt compelled to warn her, "If you meet a very rude young Englishman, pay no attention. It will be Lawrence."

In later years, Elsie gave a description to a Lawrence biographer, John E. Mack, of a warm and amusing picture of the time she met Lawrence in Paris. Newcombe and his fiancée were at a well-attended dinner with no opportunity to be introduced to Lawrence. However, at the end of the meal, a butler passed a message from Lawrence suggesting the three of them should meet. A dinner was duly arranged and when he arrived, Elsie asked him to sit next to her, to which Lawrence responded solemnly that he was not worthy of such an honour. After dinner, they went outside and Lawrence was standing on the pavement, with Elsie in the road. "Now I'm taller than you," he quipped. She promptly gave him a hard shove into the road and hopped onto the pavement. "Now I'm taller than you," she retorted. Newcombe interrupted this horseplay, saying, "Come with me. Soon you'll want to marry him instead of me." But Elsie, having the last word, replied, "Oh no, you're better looking and much nicer." Lawrence could only laugh, but Newcombe seemed a little embarrassed. 

With the question of his next posting still to be settled, Newcombe returned to London and took lodgings at the United Service Club in Pall Mall. Reserved for senior officers above the rank of Major, “The Senior” as it was known, was considered the most prestigious military club in London. Since his return he had been busy with all sorts of plans, but none more important than his own wedding. 

While Elsie settled into the Hans Crescent Hotel just behind the Harrods department store in Knightsbridge, Newcombe began to make the necessary arrangements but soon found that it was not going to be as easy as he had thought. As Elsie was technically an “enemy alien subject” she was placed under certain restrictions and entering into marriage, especially with one of his Majesty’s serving officers, was going to take ingenuity to pull off. With arrangements for Newcombe to be posted overseas at an advanced stage there was no time to be lost. Elsie’s status as a citizen of Constantinople under French protection gave her some advantages but it was the recognition for her work in helping Newcombe and other Allied prisoners-of-war in their escape plans that would eventually decide the matter in her favour. Strings were pulled at senior level and with assistance from the Registrar-General, and even the Home Secretary, the matter was eventually resolved when Elsie was given permission to become a British subject.

 

With all legal difficulties overcome and arrangements having been settled, his marriage to Elsie took place on 15 April 1919, immediately upon the opening of the Registry Office at 15 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden. The following day the couple, armed with the registrars’ certificate, drove across town to St. Margaret’s, the delightful church in the grounds of Westminster Abbey on Parliament Square, known as the Church of the House of Commons. Although the church was normally closed to wedding services during the Holy Week of Easter a further favour was asked of an old school chum from Christ’s Hospital, the Revd. Herbert Francis Westlake, a Minor Canon of Westminster. 

Westlake carefully read the documents brought from the Registry Office and once he was satisfied that all was correct he welcomed the couple at the altar and began the religious service. If Newcombe wanted to impress his young bride he could not have picked a more magnificent location, situated at the spiritual and political epicentre of the Empire he served as a loyal and dedicated agent.

Within days newspapers reported the marriage in a story that was syndicated around the Empire under the title ‘Real Romance of Love and War’. They claimed, rightly, that it was a tale "which seems to belong to the pages of a novel rather than to a record of actual events." The ceremony, the report concluded, was "the culminating act of a chain of happenings which included adventures among the enemy disguised as an Arab, capture, a love episode, escape, recapture, and finally a happy reunion in England, and wedding bells." The happy couple, who had met under such remarkable circumstances and had already gone through so many adventures together, had overcome the last difficulty and were finally united in marriage. The verdict from the London newspapers was heart-warming, describing Elsie as "handsome and singularly charming."

The marriage is not recorded in the register book in the usual way, but is listed on an inserted Certificate of Marriage slip, in the April section for that year. An accompanying letter indicates that there were two ceremonies of marriage, one in the Church of England and another one elsewhere according to other religious rites. The letter goes on to explains what happens in this sort of case: “...When it is desired that two marriages of the same parties should be solemnized on the same day by different religious rites separate Notice must be given for each marriage...and each marriage is then celebrated in precisely the same manner as if it were the only marriage. No reference to the ceremony in the other church being made in the marriage register...” 

With Newcombe's future still undecided, their different religious backgrounds would cause some consternation in government and military circles later in the year.

THE LONG ROAD TO COLLECTIVE DISPOSSESSION – PART ONE

The following essay examines the four main British-backed negotiations or agreements produced during WW1 that ultimately led to the 1948 founding of the State of Israel and the event known to the Palestinians as the Nakba, or the catastrophe. Special attention is given to Stewart Newcombe’s twin dilemma: his efforts to find a long-term solution that would satisfy the needs of both the Arab and Jewish people while also fulfilling his obligation to safeguard British interests.

As of today (18 November 2023), we are witnessing what is in danger of becoming the second Nakba for the Palestinians following the forced evacuation of 1.5 million citizens of northern Gaza to the south during Israel’s war on Hamas. In an update to my previous post dated 7 November 2023 Newcombe and the Palestinians, Israel has revised the official death toll of its citizens killed during the Hamas attack on 7 October down from 1400 to 1200 (comprising over 800 Israeli and foreign national civilians, along with over 350 army and police personnel). As of 19 November 2023, a conservative estimate of Palestinians killed during Israel’s bombing campaign against Hamas in Gaza stands at more than 11,000, the majority being women and children. The final figure will likely increase due to preventable death from disease and infant mortality. An unknown number of casualties (estimated at 2,700) remain undiscovered under the rubble of the ruined city.

The following framework of pledges and agreements made during World War One clearly demonstrates the diplomatic twists and turns that has led to the present dark chapter in the history of the region and its people, as well as Great Britain's role in it. These are:

1. THE McMAHON-HUSSEIN CORRESPONDENCE 1915- 1916

2. THE SYKES-PICOT AGREEMENT - May 1916

3. THE BALFOUR DECLARATION 1917

4. THE DECLARATION TO THE SEVEN - 16 July 1918

Prior to the start of the war, both Stewart Newcombe and T.E. Lawrence carried out extensive exploration of Greater Syria, and Palestine in particular; Newcombe as a Royal Engineer officer extending Kitchener’s survey of Palestine south of Beersheba and into the Sinai, and Lawrence in search of Crusader Castles and later as an archaeologist at Carchemish with Leonard Woolley. It was at a camp south of Beersheba that both archaeologists first met Newcombe in order to provide cover to the secret military survey that was being conducted under the auspices of the Palestine Exploration Fund by several teams in an area known as the Wilderness of Zin. Lawrence was quick to realise why they were there: “We are obviously only meant as red herrings, to give an archaeological colour to a political job.”

For the most part, their experience of the Biblical landscape was fixed in the present, i.e., in daily relations with an Arab Muslim majority population. Newcombe’s pre-war reports contain detailed assessments of the various Arab and Kurdish tribes and their allegiances or potential for obstructing British imperial aims. Jewish colonies were at this time largely on the periphery of his experience, whether indigenous Palestinian Jews speaking Arabic or early Zionist settlers speaking Yiddish.

Although estimates vary, a variety of sources suggest that approximately 657,000 Muslim Arabs, 81,000 Christian Arabs, and 59,000 Jews made up Ottoman Palestine's population in 1914, the year of Newcombe's survey. During the war, the government deported a large number of Jews who were foreign citizens, and some Jews left Palestine after being offered the choice to become Ottoman citizens. In this way, by December 1915, about 14% of the Jewish population had departed.

Despite Newcombe's long association with the Palestine Exploration Fund, whose founding principles were based on the archaeological exploration of Palestine as a way of ground-truthing a Biblical narrative, he readily acknowledged the demographic status quo that existed at the time of his surveys, namely a majority Muslim population with a leadership aiming for self-determination after the end of Ottoman rule. While the study of the historical landscape had its place in the survey, his relationships with Arab chiefs, tribal confederations and Turkish officials during this period were clearly more relevant to the aims of his covert military mission, which were to map previously unchartered regions to help defend the lifelines of the British Empire, as well as surveying future battlefields on which he and Lawrence would later fight. His secret reports to the British Embassy in Constantinople show that he was more concerned with Arab nationalist issues than observing a Jewish renaissance.

THE WAR YEARS

At the start of the war, Lawrence worked under Newcombe’s direction in Military Intelligence for nine months in Cairo where they gathered information on Turkish troop dispositions and movements and monitored the potential for an Arab uprising in Syria, and the Arabian peninsula.

1. THE McMAHON-HUSSEIN CORRESPONDENCE 1915- 1916

Between July 1915 and March 1916, Britain had given assurances to the Sharif of Mecca in what became known as the McMahon–Hussein Correspondence (July 1915 to March 1916), a series of ten letters exchanged during World War I between Lieutenant Colonel Sir Henry McMahon, the British High Commissioner to Egypt, and Hussein bin Ali, the Sharif of Mecca, agreeing to recognize an independent Arab state in the region that was then under Ottoman rule in exchange for Hussein launching the Arab Revolt against the Ottoman Empire.

The need for such an agreement from the British perspective was partly Arab assistance in the fight against the Turks, but more importantly as a counter to the prospect of an Ottoman call for jihad, or holy war, as well as securing the continued backing of the millions of Muslims in British Indian, where many were supporting the Allies by serving in the Indian Army. The letters remain significant for their role in shaping the future political landscape of the Middle East and the understanding of British promises to various Arab leaders during the war.

However, the exchange of letters was conducted with a degree of ambiguity and left certain key terms, such as the boundaries of the proposed Arab state, open to interpretation. This later led to disputes and conflicting claims about the promises made.

This ambiguity later contributed to the disagreements between the promises made to the Arabs during the war and the agreements and pledges that came into effect afterwards, particularly the Sykes-Picot Agreement and the Balfour Declaration, both of which seemed to contradict the spirit of the Hussein-McMahon Correspondence.

Labels such as ‘Perfidious Albion’ are often applied by historians in the light of evidence from the very same author of the British promises who did not believe in the strength of his own proposals. In a private letter to India’s Viceroy Charles Hardinge sent on 4 December 1915, McMahon expressed a somewhat different view of what the future of Arabia would be, contrary to what he had led Sherif Hussein to believe:

[I do not take] the idea of a future strong united independent Arab State ... too seriously ... the conditions of Arabia do not and will not for a very long time to come, lend themselves to such a thing ... I do not for one moment go to the length of imagining that the present negotiations will go far to shape the future form of Arabia or to either establish our rights or to bind our hands in that country. The situation and its elements are much too nebulous for that. What we have to arrive at now is to tempt the Arab people into the right path, detach them from the enemy and bring them on to our side. This on our part is at present largely a matter of words, and to succeed we must use persuasive terms and abstain from academic haggling over conditions—whether about Baghdad or elsewhere.

Lawrence saw things differently. “I had dreamed, at the City School of Oxford, of hustling into form, while I lived, the new Asia which time was inexorably bringing upon us. Mecca was to lead to Damascus; Damascus to Anatolia, and afterwards to Baghdad; and then there was Yemen.”

Lawrence had dreamed big, and the results of his efforts would torment him for the rest of his life. But even Newcombe was not immune from the knowledge that he had deceived the Arabs. Arnold Lawrence, (T.E.’s brother) wrote to Jeremy Wilson, Lawrence’s authorised biographer, in August 1971: “Newcombe’s feeling of guilt persisted to the end of his life and kept him constantly active in furthering Arab political aims.”

The secret Hussein-McMahon Correspondence was a pivotal episode within the historical context of the Middle East, shaping the scepticism throughout the political landscape of the region, and highlighting the discrepancy between the promises made and the geopolitical realities that unfolded after the war.

Towards the end of 1915 there was an unexpected announcement within closed government circles that rang alarm bells in Cairo as it threatened to cast aside Anglo-Arab discussions relating to the aspirations for national self-determination coming from Arab leaders in Syria, the Hejaz and Yemen. Following recommendations from the De Bunsen Committee, a British Government report on present and future relations with the Ottomans, secret negotiations between the British and the French had begun to work towards an agreement on a post-war division of the spoils within greater Syria and Turkey. With discussions between Cairo and Sherif Hussein well under way it was decided that the negotiations between the British and the French must for now be kept secret.

2. THE SYKES-PICOT AGREEMENT - May 1916

Enter Sir Mark Sykes of Great Britain and Francois Georges-Picot of France. With an eye on the prize, a secret agreement was drawn up to divide the Ottoman Empire's territories in the Middle East after the war's end between their respective countries.

Named after its negotiators, the agreement established spheres of influence and control in the Middle East for these two European powers. The agreement essentially aimed to split the region into areas of control, mainly to secure their strategic interests and prevent conflict between themselves over these territories.

The Sykes-Picot Agreement designated various zones of control, which were divided into areas of direct and indirect influence for both countries within modern-day countries such as Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, and Palestine. However, it is essential to note that the implementation of the agreement was significantly altered by subsequent developments, such as the Balfour Declaration and the eventual collapse of the Ottoman Empire.

The Agreement has had a lasting impact on the Middle East, contributing to the drawing of borders that often ignored local ethnic, religious, and tribal divisions. It's seen by many as a prime example of the arbitrary division of territories by colonial powers, often cited for the problems and conflicts in the region that persist to this day. Sykes-Picot remains crucial in understanding the ideology (at least as depicted through its propaganda) of the Islamic State (IS) militant group. Its leader, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, was described by IS as "the breaker of barriers", reinforcing the sentiment that Sykes-Picot was a symbol of foreign interference.

The reality, however, is far more nuanced. One could argue that the agreements made at the 1920 San Remo Conference -- attended by leaders from Britain, France, Italy, and Japan -- rather than the Sykes-Picot agreement, are ultimately responsible for the internal borders of many Middle Eastern countries we know today. Sykes and Picot wielded a broad brush in creating the post-war colonial framework of countries out of the old Ottoman Empire; the current geopolitical borders were established over a longer period of time, a process that had a great deal to do with regional power struggles, rather than any foreign imperial meddling.

3. THE BALFOUR DECLARATION 1917

Whereby “One nation solemnly promised to a second nation the country of a third.”

On the 2 November 1917, Arthur James Balfour, the United Kingdom's foreign secretary in Lloyd George's new administration, sent the following declaration to Lord Rothschild, a leading member of the British Jewish community:

I have much pleasure in conveying to you, on behalf of his Majesty's government, the following declaration of sympathy with Jewish Zionists aspirations which has been submitted to, and approved by, the Cabinet.

His Majesty's Government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.

As a response to various factors, including lobbying efforts by the Zionist movement and considerations of British imperial interests during World War I, the British government saw strategic advantages in issuing the declaration.

Lord Rothschild was seen as a liaison and representative of the Jewish community, and his involvement in the process was crucial. He worked closely with Chaim Weizmann, a Zionist leader, to advocate for British support for a Jewish homeland in Palestine. The Balfour Declaration, in part, aimed to win Jewish support for the Allies in World War I and to gain favour among influential Jewish communities, particularly in the United States and Russia. Britain also had considerable strategic interests in the Middle East and the Mediterranean region, in Egypt and the Suez Canal in particular, and an advantage was sought through the declaration in securing control over these territories in any post-war settlement.

This simple statement of intent from the British government, whereby “one nation solemnly promised to a second nation the country of a third,” as one leading Jewish intellectual put it (Arthur Koestler), was at the heart of the Zionists’ hopes of creating a political homeland. With its announcement coming as the Allies pushed north through Palestine towards the prize of Jerusalem ‘by Christmas’, the hopes of Zionism lay in a total defeat of the German-backed Ottomans and with Palestine coming under a British mandate or protectorate.

Despite reservations, Stewart Newcombe, operating alongside T.E. Lawrence with Sherif Feisal’s men in the Hejaz, accepted the document with all its stipulations, in particular those that respected the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine. After all, this declaration had not just been conjured up in the mind of the British foreign secretary on a whim. Behind the scenes, Zionist leaders Chaim Weizmann and Nahum Sokolow and British minister Sir Mark Sykes had been shuttling between allies to secure a common agreement. Sokolow was especially successful in obtaining the Cambon Letter of agreement from France, which ignored the rights of non-Jews, and the support from Pope Benedict XV as the Vatican controlled many of the Christian holy sites in Palestine. His relations with Louis D. Brandeis, Supreme Court Justice under President Wilson, secured support from the USA. With the Allies standing by Britain’s side, Balfour issued his government’s declaration with confidence. Despite his personal reservations, Newcombe was duty bound to accept his government's pledge to the Zionists and to work within its framework.

While consensus for the declaration on a Jewish homeland was being sought around the world, discussions of a contradictory nature continued to be made between the British and the French causing considerable tension in the dealings between British officers and Arab leaders in the Hejaz.

ATTITUDE OF THE BRITISH OFFICERS

The mental agility involved in keeping all the pieces in play was stressful to most of the British officers working with the Arabs. Mark Sykes’ arrival in the Hejaz in May 1917 to sound out his ‘proposals’ with Feisal and Sherif Hussein was an alarming development, especially as his proposal to carve up the region had already been agreed with Francois Georges-Picot, the French representative. Following on the heels of General Murray's failure to break the Turkish line at the First Battle of Gaza, Sykes adopted a policy of deception and was especially careful not to give away details of the division of the spoils lest it threaten Arab cooperation. Within the agreement, Palestine, always the stumbling block, was designated to be governed by an international administration. Sykes felt well satisfied until someone pointed out that the Jews might have a very strong interest in the future of the country and could oppose any agreement or promises. This came as somewhat of a surprise to Sykes who until that moment had not considered the Jews in his deliberations.

Newcombe shared Lawrence’s distress and felt they were being manipulated or exploited by Sykes and Picot. He summed up the feeling when he wrote that Sykes must return and openly and honestly deal with Hussein and his sons, “otherwise we are hoodwinking the Sherif and his people and playing a very false game in which officers attached to the Sherif’s army are inevitably committed and which I know causes anxiety in several officers’ minds: in case we let them down.” Another officer, Colonel Wilson went further: “Is the Sherif living in a fools’ paradise?” he wrote. “If so he will have a very rude awakening and once his trust in Great Britain has gone we will not get it back again.”

In Newcombe’s mind the solution was simple: “…he [Faisal] must have a political propaganda which will induce the people to risk their lives. It must be a clear statement, showing that they will be fighting for an Arab Government.”

Lawrence’s anguish was compounded by the fact that he was about to depart on the Aqaba expedition just two days after Sykes’s visit. He would soon be compelling men to fight for freedom and self-government over land that was already assigned. Feisal remained focussed on this aim in his father’s name, but it was also well known by Lawrence and others that the Hashemites remained in secret negotiations with the Turks as an insurance policy to secure their long-term objectives.

Throughout their close association during the war, Lawrence and Newcombe remained convinced of the priority of securing Arab assistance under the leadership of the Hashemites to ‘enable England, while fighting Germany, simultaneously to defeat Turkey’. Newcombe was certain that had any suggestion of a Zionist movement been put forward, the Sherif would have done nothing to help the British. The Bolshevik Revolution late in 1917 was a moment of deep concern when the secret treaties of the allies were revealed to the world’s press. Lawrence’s role had just got harder. Newcombe, meanwhile, was out of the fray having got himself captured during an operation behind enemy lines at the Third Battle of Gaza.

4. THE DECLARATION TO THE SEVEN 1918

On 16 June 1918, Mark Sykes responded to a secret memorandum written by seven anonymous Syrian notables in Cairo requesting a "guarantee of the ultimate independence of Arabia".

The seven Syrians were members of the recently formed Syrian Unity Party which was established in the wake of the Balfour Declaration and the publication by the Bolsheviks of the Sykes-Picot Agreement.

In what became known as The Declaration to the Seven, Sykes expressed His Majesty’s Government’s great care in considering their requests despite their anonymity which he said, “has not in any way detracted from the importance which His Majesty's Government attribute to the document.”

The areas mentioned in Sykes’ response fell into four categories and are worth setting out in full:

1. Areas in Arabia which were free and independent before the outbreak of war.
2. Areas emancipated from Turkish control by the action of the Arabs themselves during the present war.
3. Areas formerly under Ottoman dominion, occupied by the Allied forces during the present war.
4. Areas still under Turkish control.

In regard to the first two categories, Sykes stated that his government recognised “the complete and sovereign independence of the Arab inhabiting these areas and supported them in their struggle for freedom.”

In regard to the areas occupied by Allied forces, the British government drew the attention of the Seven to the texts of the proclamations issued by the General Commanding Officers following the capture of Baghdad and Jerusalem, proclamations that embodied the policy of His Majesty's Government towards the inhabitants of those regions. Namely:

“It is the wish and desire of His Majesty's Government that the future government of these regions should be based upon the principle of the consent of the governed and this policy has and will continue to have the support of His Majesty's Government.”

Sykes wrote that the government was aware, and would take into consideration, the dangers and difficulties for those who worked for the regeneration of the people in the specified regions, and that all obstacles could and will be overcome with his government’s full support.

Finally, he declared that the government was ready to examine any cooperative plan that aligned with existing military operations and consistent with the political principles of His Majesty's Government and the Allies.

Aside from private assurances and promises, the Declaration, written less than five months before the end of the war, was the first statement from the British Government to the Arabs advocating national self-determination. The Declaration was read out to the Seven on behalf of the Foreign Office by an official at the Army headquarters in Egypt and a copy was sent to Sherif Hussein. 

On the night of 30 September 1918, Lawrence and the Sherifian Arab Army were poised to enter Damascus aware that under the terms of the Declaration the Arabs had the right to establish a government over all the territory that they liberated. It is unclear who entered Damascus first but Lawrence, who had been detained by a patrol of Bengal Lancers in a mix-up over his identity, recorded the moment he finally entered the city that he had dreamed of helping to conquer since a boy in Oxford:

"The streets were nearly impassable with the crowds, who yelled themselves hoarse, danced, cut themselves with swords and daggers and fired volleys into the air. Nasir, Nuri Sha'lan, Auda abu Tayi and myself were cheered by name, covered with flowers, kissed indefinitely and splashed with attar of roses from the house-tops."

Riding his horse at the head of a large possession, Faisal later entered the town to further scenes of wild jubilation and joy. As his biographer, Ali Allawi, wrote: "The flags of the Arab Revolt were everywhere. For now, at least, the city was at his feet." After two years of hard warfare, Faisal was the undisputed leader of the Arabs of Greater Syria. The revolt had triumphed, but with immense difficulties on the horizon the battle for the heart and soul of the Arab cause had just begun. 

POST-WAR PERIOD

As agreed in the secret agreements of the Allies, the aftermath of the war saw the division of the Middle East into mandates and colonies controlled by various European powers, with the Arab territories being divided up between Britain and France. These actions led to disillusionment among the Arab population and contributed to a deep-seated mistrust of Western powers due to perceived broken promises.

Throughout his life, Newcombe continued to fight against the injustices perpetrated against the Palestinians, as shown in this letter to The Times in 1939:

Being one of the few survivors who made promises on behalf of the British Government to the Arabs in 1917, I state the facts as follows:

1. We made several promises to the Arabs: in 1915 the McMahon letters; in 1916-18 promises by leaflets dropped by aeroplanes, by speeches to prisoners of war, and by any means we could devise, to induce them to desert and rebel against their own Government: we asked them to run the risk of being hanged and to risk the lives of their families: we offered them freedom as a reward; 2,000 deserters and others joined up from Palestine alone, and were at Wadi Musa in 1918.

2. In November, 1917, we made a vague and qualified promise to the Jews, without asking the Arabs whether it contravened our promises to them.

3. On hearing of the Balfour Declaration the Arabs who were helping us by their revolt stopped fighting in December, 1917. So we sent Commander D. G. Hogarth to explain to King Hussein that the Jewish Settlement would be consistent with the economic and political freedom of the Arab people. On such conditions King Hussein accepted "Jews into an Arab House" and the Arabs went on fighting with us.

4. For some years we deluded Arabs and ourselves by saying that the National Home was “cultural and spiritual” and non-political. Had we kept to that meaning little trouble would have occurred.

It would be very desirable, from the point of view of honour, that all these various pledges should be set out, side by side, and then consider what is the fair thing to be done. This is all that the Arabs ask…

For the rest of his life, Newcombe maintained strong views on what he considered were acceptable levels of Jewish immigration to Mandatory Palestine in the years between the World Wars, based on his long study of the region, its people, infrastructure and resources. Believing the Arabs of Palestine would not vanish like the mist before the sun of Zion he therefore thought it imperative they had fair representation in the contest for the hearts and minds of those in power who would ultimately bring about the fulfillment of the Balfour Declaration, with all its stipulations – important provisos which supported his firm belief that only by respecting native interests could you achieve a lasting consensus. He worked tirelessly towards that aim after consulting the opinions of his many Jewish and Moslem friends before reaching proposals for what might be termed a bi-nation state solution. His convictions, once reached, never wavered.

In Part Two I will explore Newcombe’s role in delimiting the boundaries of Palestine and Lebanon, his role as the Honorary Secretary of the Palestine Information Centre in London, his collaboration with Albert Hyamson in seeking a just and sustainable future for both Arabs and Jews in Palestine, known as the Hyamson-Newcombe Proposal, his work with Hyamson and others in drawing up a Constitution for Palestine, and perhaps his most fitting legacy to his Muslim friends, that of helping to establish the first purpose built mosque in London.

A TIME FOR GAMES

THE INTER-ALLIED GAMES - 22 June to 6 July 1919

The recent announcement that Paris had been awarded the 2024 XXXIII Olympiad brought to mind an unusual event that took place in the shadow of the Paris Peace Conference in 1919.

While the details of peace were being discussed the victors devised what they considered a useful diversion for the millions of troops on the Eastern and Western fronts waiting for demobilisation and a return to a home and family that many had not seen for several months. For Dominion and Imperial forces, the long periods of separation had been much longer as ‘home’ leave was virtually impossible. Repatriation took time and indeed many troops would not see their homeland until 1922. To keep the troops occupied and to replace fighting as the stimulus for a united effort an Inter-Allied Games – otherwise known as the Military “Olympics” – were set up with the very best intentions. The Games were described by the Official History as “important in themselves because of their magnitude, unparalleled in the annals of sport by reason of the circumstances under which they were held.” It went on to say: “ These Games signalized to a vast number of soldiers of the various Armies of the Allies the end of the Great War and the beginning, in this unique love feast of divers races and nationalities, of a greater and more hopeful peace than the world had yet known.”

Feisal, Lawrence and Nuri Said

Many countries would participate for reasons of celebration or in continuation of friendly relations created under wartime conditions. In other cases countries such as Romania and Czechoslovakia, whose very existence was still in political doubt, saw the games as a further opportunity to raise their visibility on a world stage.

The idea of a ‘unique love feast’ of sport was first conceived by Elwood Brown less than two months after the end of hostilities. Brown was a leading advocate of a so-called ‘Muscular’ form of Christianity which he promoted throughout South-East Asia under the auspices of the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA). His approach was especially successful in the Philippines where as Director of Athletics he proposed and implemented the Far-Eastern Olympic Games from 1913 onwards. His concept of an Inter-Allied Games was quickly taken up by the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) who convinced France and the International Olympic Committee to agree to the Games being placed under sole US control without interference. The Americans took their role very seriously and constructed a dedicated stadium east of Paris close to the Bois de Vincennes where the 1900 Olympics had taken place. It was named the Stade Pershing after the Commander of the AEF, General John J. Pershing who had been an acquaintance of Brown from the Philippines. The two men became the driving force behind the competition.

Feisal, fighting for the very existence of some form of Arab nationhood, must have been more than a little bemused to receive a letter of invitation from Pershing himself and may well have sought Lawrence’s advice on a matter he would not have anticipated but which might present wider political implications in the future. This was one more opportunity to reinforce an Arab presence on the world stage and the decision to attend was not taken lightly. His response was both cordial and humble. 

Paris, 20 March, 1919.

My dear General:
I am deeply sensible of the honour you paid the troops under my command in inviting us to take part in the Inter-Allied Athletic Meeting to be held shortly in Paris. It will give us the greatest pleasure to participate. I have sent General Nuri Pacha Said of my staff to Damascus to choose such team as we can supply, and will send you details of our entry as soon as possible.

I have the honour to be, sir
Yours very faithfully,
Faisal.

The only problem now for Feisal was who to pick to represent the budding nation of Arabs? With Nuri tasked with finding suitable representatives of the Hejaz contingent it quickly became apparent that with American and French supremacy in numbers perhaps a more symbolic involvement should be sought. Britain, for the same reasons, had declined full participation and contented itself to an advisory role and in sending a golf team and rowing crews.

Twenty-nine letters of invitation were sent and eighteen allied nations and territories accepted. The Games were well attended throughout commencing with the inauguration of the Pershing Stadium which attracted more than 90,000 spectators, although urgent business meant that President Wilson and M. Clemenceau were unable to attend. With 76 events across a dozen sports it was an ambitious programme not dissimilar to that of the 1916 Berlin Olympics which had been cancelled due to war.

Stade Pershing under construction

Baron Pierre de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympic Games, had initially locked horns over Brown’s plans to hold the Games which he perceived as an intrusion into Olympic affairs. Fortunately, they came to a mutual understanding based on a shared vision for stimulating sport and its ideals at a truly world level. Perhaps on no other occasion had there been a more poignant time for games and where the spirit of the Baron’s creed was felt more strongly: "The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well."

Nuri returned to France with fifteen contestants, although only three of them were pitted in open competition. Of the rest, eight took part in a performance of Arabian Sword dancing while four riders were chosen from among the best in the two camel-mounted regiments in the Hejaz Regular Army for a demonstration of camel-racing. These were meant to represent the type of competition most popular in Arabia and were well received. Horse riding is normally a particularly well represented event across most competing nations but many were prevented by the post-war difficulty of finding the necessary mounts and of transporting them to Paris. The Hejaz team was able to put up three riders but could only muster one horse, a little gray Arabian named Masoud. This mount, however, caused the greatest sensation during a long-distance race when its rider, Captain Fowzi, came from the back of the field and passed opponent after opponent finally finishing in seventh place. The next part of the competition consisted of jumps which the untrained Masoud was unable to complete and was therefore eliminated from the contest although it finished out the ride with much acclaim for its gallant efforts against a stronger field. 

A Tug-of-war

If the British contingent was largely absent the Official History of the Games was fulsome in its explanation, recording: ‘wherever the sport world foregathers, the Englishman is a welcome competitor and one whose chances of winning must be minutely calculated by his adversaries. Old England, however, if absent in the flesh, was present in the spirit, and indeed in the blood, for Australia, Canada and New Zealand played an important part in the competitions. The Dominions gave a good account of themselves, too?’

Among the more unusual events was hand-grenade throwing, which took place in the knowledge that most of the contestants had been practising for at least four years. However, first place with a new world record was surprisingly taken by an American army chaplain, Fred Thompson, with a toss of 245 feet, 11 inches, who although not a regular soldier was an accomplished collegiate athlete before the war. The irony of including a Tug-of-War competition in a town where so many new nations were fighting for recognition was perhaps lost on the organisers. As predicted, America and France swept the board with the most points gained from the largest pool of competitors. 

The Games were deemed a great success, not least in strengthening combatant morale and in bringing together men that had been bound “by strong ties of sympathy in the common ideals for which they were fighting”. Elwood Brown’s vision was to “lay the foundations for those enduring friendships which can come only from personal contact and which, in this case, were of such fundamental importance to the future welfare of the world.” It was a noble cause but the real work of forging a new world order had just concluded not on the playing fields but in the halls of Versailles and as Clemenceau complained: “It was much easier to make war than peace.” 

Feisal, Lawrence and the Arab delegation, having taken every opportunity to promote the need to break the Arab movement out of the confines of the Hejaz in the name of the King were under no illusion as to the difficulties that lay ahead.

Forthcoming lecture - 'Lawrence of Arabia and the Revolt in the Desert' - University of Southampton - Saturday 1 July 2017

The Lifelong Learning programme run by the University of Southampton will be holding a study day entitled: Lawrence of Arabia and the Revolt in the Desert on Saturday 1 July 2017.

I have been asked to present a paper entitled: 'A Yahoo Life' - T.E. Lawrence and the British Military Mission in the Hejaz.

The following description of the event is from the University's website where you can find details of the programme and an application form for places.

To mark the centenary of Sharif Hussein’s forces seizing the Ottoman port of Aqaba on 6 July 1917, this Great War study day focuses upon the Arab revolt against Turkish rule, and the role of archaeologist turned soldier, T.E. Lawrence. The ‘revolt in the desert’ is placed in the context of French and British intervention in the Middle East, notably the Sykes-Picot Agreement and the Balfour Declaration; the consequences of which still resonate throughout the region known then as the Levant.

Recreated in spectacular style by David Lean in the epic Lawrence of Arabia, the capture of Aqaba opened supply lines from Egypt to Allied forces operating further north in Transjordan and Greater Palestine. This effectively ended any lingering threat of a Turkish attack on the Suez Canal. By examining General Allenby’s successful offensive east of Suez in 1917-18, we can assess the military significance of Lawrence’s contribution – to what extent does the legend match reality?

Before convincing Prince Feisal and other tribal chieftains to rise up Lawrence’s involvement in the Middle East was primarily as a scholar, prompting consideration of how pre-war archaeology disguised great power interest in the crumbling Ottoman empire.

Examining Lawrence before and after the First World War offers an additional perspective on continuing conflict in the Middle East and his close connection with Southampton Water. In the 1920s and 1930s, a very public retreat from fame saw the writer of the Seven Pillars of Wisdom assume a fresh identity not once but twice, as a ranker in the Army and then the Royal Air Force. Extended service in the RAF led to a final posting in Hythe, where Lawrence worked on the British Powerboat Company’s latest rescue launches; weekends were spent at Cloud’s Hill, his Dorset cottage, or socialising in London with the likes of Churchill or Shaw. Since his death in 1935 popular interest in Lawrence and the revolt in the desert has never waned; fuelled by fresh revelations about his private life, and an urgent need to comprehend the creation myth upon which Saudi Arabia’s unbending monarchy claims its legitimacy.

This study day recognises our continuing fascination with ‘El Laurens’, and his place in the violent and crisis-ridden history of the Middle East over the past one hundred years.

Professor Adrian Smith, Emeritus Professor of Modern History, University of Southampton

- Welcome/introduction: the Solent, childhood home and workplace of T.E. Lawrence

Dr Christopher Prior, Lecturer in 20th Century History, University of Southampton

- "Immortality I cannot judge": Lawrence, the Middle East and the British Empire in the early twentieth century.

Professor Tim Champion, Emeritus Professor of Archaeology

- 'Archaeologists and great power rivalry in the Middle East prior to the First world War

Anthony Sattin, travel writer, broadcaster, and author of Young Lawrence: a Portrait of the Legend as a Young Man (2014)

- From Carchemish to Cairo: the making of Major Lawrence

Kerry Webber, writer, photographer and designer, currently writing the biography of Colonel Stewart Newcombe

- "A Yahoo Life": T.E. Lawrence and the British Military Mission to the Hejaz

Professor Adrian Smith

- The post war Lawrence: Aircraftman Shaw and the British Power Boat Company

Dr Mark Levene, Reader in History, Southampton University, and author of The Crises of Genocide Volumes I and II

- Conclusion: Thinking beyond Lawrence - the British, their role in Ottoman dissolution and the long-term consequences for the modern 'Middle East'

Every uniform tells a story

Stewart Newcombe's Dress Uniform

This photograph of Stewart Newcombe’s Royal Engineers dress uniform represents one of those memorable moments in research when you come that little bit closer to your subject. Often it's through coming into contact for the first time with something they have written in their own hand, perhaps a letter, a report or a diary. There’s something about the condition of the paper, the stains, the creases and of course the style of the handwriting itself; small clues which might give you some idea of the circumstances in which it was written or of the writer's frame of mind. Without being an expert it's possible to sense all kinds of emotions within the controlled and measured field reports, such as urgency, frustration and anger, as increasingly became the case with Newcombe. But when he once wrote: 'I am told I'm not so popular as I was,' his words were clear and unambiguous, realising he had crossed the line in his dealing with the Bedouin tribesmen he had overworked in prosecuting the attacks on the Hejaz railway. ‘Nekoom’, as he was called by the Bedu, was not alone in his frustrations which were shared by other British military staff attached to the Sherif of Mecca's forces, officers such as Captain Henry Hornby and Bimbashi (Major) Herbert Garland. 

Newcombe’s desert campaign had started off well. After racing across a broad flat scrubland on a fast horse from the small coastal port of Um Lejj, where he had just landed, he caught up with Sherif Feisal's troops during their march north to take the town of Wejh. Lawrence offered him his spare camel and introduced him to Feisal who greeted him like an old school chum. As Lawrence later wrote, ‘at once they plunged into the midst of things, suggesting, debating, planning at lightning speed. Newcombe's initial velocity was enormous, and the freshness of the day and the life and happiness of the Army gave inspiration to the march and brought the future bubbling out of us without pain.'  But very soon Newcombe's war became a record of missed opportunities and disappointments. The frustrations he shared with other British officers led almost inevitably to Lawrence composing the Twenty-Seven Articles, handed down like commandments and giving instructions on how to work alongside the Sharifs and Bedu of the Hejaz. Lawrence's respect and friendship for Newcombe prevented him from openly criticising the senior officer but the inference is clear throughout the 27 points and in the Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Newcombe was ‘family’; when Lawrence wanted to criticise ‘outsiders’ he did so, but family affairs were kept within the family.

Col. Newcombe with medals

Newcombe’s dress jacket could tell its own story with its creases, stains and signs of age, from the missing regimental button to the frayed cotton bands that once secured the bar holding his medals, including his Gallipoli Distinguished Service Order, South African medals, the Mons Star, British War and Victory medals, the French Ordre National de la Légion d'Honneur, and Italian and Turkish awards. Below these there is a small reinforced thread that held in place the much larger Order of Nahda of the Kingdom of the Hejaz, second class, when worn without the neck ribbons. The jacket was smaller in size than I had imagined, considering that Newcombe has been described as rangy and even lanky, but perhaps for his time these were valid observations. His chest size was possibly no more than 38 inches (96.5 centimetres).   

Newcombe’s uniform and dress sword, laid out for me on the table of the library while I researched his involvement in the Second Boer War, added tangible evidence, if any was needed, of a life well spent in the service of his country – a life that has been overshadowed by an even more remarkable legend. It also reminded me of an extraordinary footnote to Newcombe's life.

On the death of Newcombe’s daughter, Baroness Elles, her obituary was carried by most of the leading newspapers. This resulted in a letter being sent in to The Times on 9 November 2009 by a member of staff from the London auction house that had handled the sale of Colonel Newcombe’s campaign medals in 1992, the very set that had been reported stolen during a burglary at the family home in 1955. Publicity for the auction had included a glossy house catalogue where the medals were described as ‘an important Gallipoli group’ and mentioning the ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ connection, along with a full and largely accurate biography of Newcombe comprising several pieces previously written by Liddell Hart. The writer of the letter stated that soon after the sale of the medals he received a phone call from Baroness Elles from her holiday home in Lucca, Italy, where the high-profile publicity of the Lawrence connection had alerted the family to an account of the sale carried by The Times. ‘I see from this morning’s Times you have just sold Daddy’s medals,’ she said to the startled auctioneer. When she disclosed details of the burglary, backed up by police reports, the deal had to be unravelled and the medals were finally returned to the Newcombe family thirty-seven years after they had disappeared. It was subsequently found that the widow of the police constable who originally came to investigate the robbery had put the medals up for auction, leading to the inevitable assumption that it was in fact the policeman who had taken them himself some time during his enquiries. 

As the auctioneer poignantly observed in reply to my enquiries, ‘It was a pity Col. Newcombe lived to see his medals stolen, but not recovered.’

Ashmolean Museum re-opens

T.E. Lawrence's Arab robes have gone back on display at the refurbished Ashmolean Museum in Oxford after a major rebuild had partially closed the building for some years. The robes had languished in a back room close to some administration offices, kept out of sight for many years to the public and only revealed by private request. For me, this was a special treat on my rare visits to the town. The visitor was taken by a curator to areas not open to the public and then left in front of a glass display cabinet while, if I remember correctly, electric shutters were drawn slowly back to reveal the robes draped on a small mannequin. That one moment of theatre made the visit, and the robes, extra special. Now the museum will be able to display the robes in climate-controlled conditions without fear of damage. The Times reported the textile curator, Ruth Barnes, as saying: “You can just make out the gold and silver threading. Just imagine the light on that in the sunshine. It would have looked fantastic to the people he was trying to win over.”

Arab robe worn by Lawrence,
1917-18

Stewart Newcombe also wore Arab robes while in the field, as did other members of the British Military Mission to the Hejaz to varying degrees. His were invariably stained and dirty from his prodigious efforts to destroy the Hejaz Railway. Most photos of Newcombe in the desert show a good few inches of sock disappearing into a pair of scruffy suede army brogues, as he was obviously unable to obtain robes for his height. Lawrence, who was given a set of robes by Sherif Feisal, wore his so that he could move easily among the tribes as a representative of Feisal and to allay suspicion. As he wrote: 'Because of my khaki they took me for a Turk-trained officer who had deserted to them, and were profuse in good-humoured but ghastly suggestions of how they should treat me.' Lawrence always tried to wear the best for political motives, both local and international. A fine example of these will be on display from the 7th November when the museum re-opens its doors.

For further information and to plan a visit go to www.ashmolean.org