Paradise Lost: Smyrna 1922 - The Destruction of Islam's City of Tolerance by Giles Milton Page B
Authors: Giles Milton
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dig trenches and build roads, often in shocking conditions.
Smyrna’s rayahs fared better than most, for the majority managed to avoid the draft, but the situation was very different in the countryside that lay beyond the perimeters of the city. ‘[They] were massacred, robbed, driven out of their homes, ravished or were drafted into the army,’ wrote Horton, ‘and set to digging trenches and other work of that nature, without food or clothing, until many of them died of starvation or exposure.’
The draft of the rayahs served as a reminder to everyone inside Smyrna that their future welfare was absolutely dependent upon Rahmi Bey being able to keep the city at arm’s length from the war. This was to prove an increasingly difficult task as hopes of a rapid victory retreated into the distance. In the winter of 1914, Rahmi was brought the unwelcome news that an entire division of the Turkish army was on the move in eastern Anatolia. He was to find himself ensnared in a highly dangerous game of war and peace – and it was Enver Pasha’s turn to throw the dice.
Some three weeks before the Whittalls sat down to enjoy their Christmas lunch, Enver Pasha had paid a visit to General Liman von Sanders at his offices in the War Ministry in Constantinople. The relationship between the two men had grown increasingly stormy since the general’s arrival in Turkey. Enver disliked Liman’s punctiliousness and was almost certainly jealous of him; Liman von Sanders was continually exasperated by Enver Pasha’s vaunting pride.
Enver had brought with him a map of the Caucasus, which he proceeded to spread out on Liman von Sanders’ desk. After pointing to the positions of the various battalions of the Turkish Third Army, he informed the German commander that he was heading to Anatolia in order to take personal command of that army. Furthermore, he intended to lead it into battle against the Russians.
Liman von Sanders was aghast when he heard this. He told Enver that such a campaign was ‘wholly impracticable’ and tantamount to suicide. He was familiar with the topography of the Caucasian mountains and considered such terrain to be totally unsuited to offensive operations.
Angered by Liman von Sanders’ objections, Enver revealed his true colours. He harboured fantastical dreams of crushing the British empire and told von Sanders that, after annihilating the Russian army, ‘he contemplated marching through Afghanistan to India.’ He then made a hasty exit, thereby forestalling any more criticism from the German.
The Turkish commanders on the ground had a rather more pragmatic approach to warfare than Enver Pasha. The Third Army had its bases in the barren hinterland of eastern Anatolia and had yet to benefit from von Sanders’ modernisation programme. ‘The condition[s] there were absolutely indescribable,’ wrote Clarence Ussher, an American missionary living in the garrison city of Van. ‘Even the remembrance of the filth I witnessed seems to stifle me as I write.’
There was another obstacle to Enver’s planned offensive – one that would destroy the lives of a million people and ultimately have profound repercussions for the doomed city of Smyrna. The six provinces of eastern Anatolia were home to a large population of Armenians, many of whom had an ambiguous relationship with the Ottoman government. They had long suffered from state-sponsored persecution: more than 200,000 Armenians had been massacred between 1894 and 1896. At the outbreak of the First World War, the Armenian patriarch in Constantinople had vowed to support the Ottoman government. But many of his flock living in Anatolia quietly prayed that Enver’s offensive in the Caucasus would be snuffed out by their co-religionists in Russia.
The extent to which the Armenians actively undermined Enver’s offensive is unclear. According to Ussher, the Third Army’s Armenian regiments fought valiantly against the Russians, and despatches written by
Smyrna’s rayahs fared better than most, for the majority managed to avoid the draft, but the situation was very different in the countryside that lay beyond the perimeters of the city. ‘[They] were massacred, robbed, driven out of their homes, ravished or were drafted into the army,’ wrote Horton, ‘and set to digging trenches and other work of that nature, without food or clothing, until many of them died of starvation or exposure.’
The draft of the rayahs served as a reminder to everyone inside Smyrna that their future welfare was absolutely dependent upon Rahmi Bey being able to keep the city at arm’s length from the war. This was to prove an increasingly difficult task as hopes of a rapid victory retreated into the distance. In the winter of 1914, Rahmi was brought the unwelcome news that an entire division of the Turkish army was on the move in eastern Anatolia. He was to find himself ensnared in a highly dangerous game of war and peace – and it was Enver Pasha’s turn to throw the dice.
Some three weeks before the Whittalls sat down to enjoy their Christmas lunch, Enver Pasha had paid a visit to General Liman von Sanders at his offices in the War Ministry in Constantinople. The relationship between the two men had grown increasingly stormy since the general’s arrival in Turkey. Enver disliked Liman’s punctiliousness and was almost certainly jealous of him; Liman von Sanders was continually exasperated by Enver Pasha’s vaunting pride.
Enver had brought with him a map of the Caucasus, which he proceeded to spread out on Liman von Sanders’ desk. After pointing to the positions of the various battalions of the Turkish Third Army, he informed the German commander that he was heading to Anatolia in order to take personal command of that army. Furthermore, he intended to lead it into battle against the Russians.
Liman von Sanders was aghast when he heard this. He told Enver that such a campaign was ‘wholly impracticable’ and tantamount to suicide. He was familiar with the topography of the Caucasian mountains and considered such terrain to be totally unsuited to offensive operations.
Angered by Liman von Sanders’ objections, Enver revealed his true colours. He harboured fantastical dreams of crushing the British empire and told von Sanders that, after annihilating the Russian army, ‘he contemplated marching through Afghanistan to India.’ He then made a hasty exit, thereby forestalling any more criticism from the German.
The Turkish commanders on the ground had a rather more pragmatic approach to warfare than Enver Pasha. The Third Army had its bases in the barren hinterland of eastern Anatolia and had yet to benefit from von Sanders’ modernisation programme. ‘The condition[s] there were absolutely indescribable,’ wrote Clarence Ussher, an American missionary living in the garrison city of Van. ‘Even the remembrance of the filth I witnessed seems to stifle me as I write.’
There was another obstacle to Enver’s planned offensive – one that would destroy the lives of a million people and ultimately have profound repercussions for the doomed city of Smyrna. The six provinces of eastern Anatolia were home to a large population of Armenians, many of whom had an ambiguous relationship with the Ottoman government. They had long suffered from state-sponsored persecution: more than 200,000 Armenians had been massacred between 1894 and 1896. At the outbreak of the First World War, the Armenian patriarch in Constantinople had vowed to support the Ottoman government. But many of his flock living in Anatolia quietly prayed that Enver’s offensive in the Caucasus would be snuffed out by their co-religionists in Russia.
The extent to which the Armenians actively undermined Enver’s offensive is unclear. According to Ussher, the Third Army’s Armenian regiments fought valiantly against the Russians, and despatches written by
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