ENVER AGAIN MOVES FOR PEACE—FAREWELL TO THE SULTAN AND TO TURKEY

My failure to prevent the destruction of the Armenians had made Turkey for me a place of horror, and I found intolerable my further daily association with men who, however gracious and accommodating and good-natured they might have been to the American Ambassador, were still reeking with the blood of nearly a million human beings. Could I have done anything more, either for Americans, enemy aliens, or the persecuted peoples of the Empire, I would willingly have stayed. The position of Americans and Europeans, however, had now become secure, and, so far as the subject peoples were concerned, I had reached the end of my resources. Moreover, an event was approaching in the United States which, I believed, would inevitably have the greatest influence upon the future of the world and of democracy—the presidential campaign. I felt that there was nothing so important in international politics as the re-election of President Wilson. I could imagine no greater calamity for the United States and the world than that the American nation should fail to heartily endorse this great statesman. If I could substantially assist in Mr. Wilson’s re-election, I concluded that I was certainly wasting valuable time in this remote part of the world.

I had another practical reason for returning home, and that was to give the President and the State Department, by word of mouth, such first-hand information as I possessed on the European situation. It was especially important to give them the latest sidelights on the subject of peace. In the latter part of 1915 and the early part of 1916 this was the uppermost topic in Constantinople. Enver Pasha was constantly asking me to intercede with the President to end the war. Several times he intimated that Turkey was war-weary and that its salvation depended on getting an early peace. I have already described the conditions that prevailed a few months after the outbreak of the war, but by the end of 1915 they were infinitely worse. When Turkey decided on the deportation and massacre of her subject peoples, especially the Armenians and Greeks, she had signed her own economic death warrant. These were the people,{254} as I have already said, who controlled her industries and her finance and developed her agriculture, and the material consequences of this great national crime now began to be everywhere apparent. The farms were lying uncultivated and thousands of peasants were daily dying of starvation. As the Armenians and Greeks were the largest taxpayers, their annihilation greatly reduced the State revenues, and the fact that practically all Turkish ports were blockaded had shut off customs collections. The mere statement that Turkey was barely taking in money enough to pay the interest on her debt, to say nothing of ordinary expenses and war expenses, gives a fair idea of her advanced degree of bankruptcy. In these facts Turkey had abundant reasons for desiring a speedy peace. Besides this, Enver and the ruling party feared a revolution unless the war quickly came to an end. As I wrote the State Department about this time, “these men are willing to do almost anything to retain their power.”

Still, I did not take Enver’s importunities for peace any too seriously.

“Are you speaking for yourself and your party in this matter,” I asked him, “or do you really speak for Germany also? I cannot submit a proposition from you unless the Germans are back of you. Have you consulted them about this?”

“No,” Enver replied, “but I know how they feel.”

“That is not sufficient,” I answered; “you had better communicate with them directly through the German Embassy. I would not be willing to submit a proposition that was not endorsed by all the Teutonic Allies.”

Enver replied that he did not think it worth while to discuss the matter with the German Ambassador. He said, however, that he was just leaving for Orsova, a town on the Bulgarian and Rumanian frontier, where he was to have a conference with Falkenhayn, at that time the German Chief-of-Staff. Falkenhayn, said Enver, was the important man; he would take up the question of peace with him.

“Why do you think that it is a good time to discuss peace now?” I asked.

“Because in two weeks we shall have completely annihilated Serbia. We think that will put the Allies in a frame of mind to discuss peace. My visit to Falkenhayn is to complete arrangements for the invasion of Egypt. In a very few days we expect Greece to join us. We are already preparing tons or provisions and fodder to send to Greece. And when we get Greece, of course, Rumania will come in. When the Greeks and Rumanians{255} join us we shall have a million fresh troops. We shall get all the guns and ammunition we need from Germany as soon as the direct railroad is opened. All these things make it an excellent time for us to take up the matter of peace.”

I asked the Minister of War to talk the matter over with Falkenhayn in his proposed interview, and report to me when he returned. In some way this conversation came to the ears of the new German Ambassador, Graf von Metternich, who immediately called to discuss the subject. He apparently wished to impress upon me two things: that Germany would never surrender Alsace-Lorraine and that she would insist on the return of all her colonies. I replied that it was apparently useless to discuss peace unless England first won some great military victory.

“That may be so,” replied the Graf, “but you can hardly expect that Germany shall let England win such a victory merely to put her in a frame of mind to consider peace. But I think that you are wrong. It is a mistake to say that Great Britain has not already won great victories. I think that she has several very substantial ones to her credit. Just consider what she has done. She has established her unquestioned supremacy of the seas and driven off all German commerce. She has not only not lost a foot of her own territory, but she has gained enormous new domains. She has annexed Cyprus and Egypt and has conquered all the German colonies. She is in possession of a considerable part of Mesopotamia. How absurd to say that England has gained nothing by the war!”

On December 1st Enver came to the American Embassy and reported the results of his interview with Falkenhayn. The German Chief-of-Staff had said that Germany would very much like to discuss peace, but that Germany could not state her terms in advance, as such an action would be generally interpreted as a sign of weakness. But one thing could be depended on: the Allies could obtain far more favourable terms at that moment than at any future time. Enver told me that the Germans would be willing to surrender all the territory they had taken from the French and practically all of Belgium. But the one thing on which they had definitely settled was the permanent dismemberment of Serbia. Not an acre of Macedonia would be returned to Serbia, and even parts of old Serbia would be retained; that is, Serbia would become a much smaller country than she had been before the Balkan Wars and, in fact, she would practically disappear as an independent State. The meaning of all this was apparent, even then. Germany had won the object{256} for which she had really gone to war: a complete route from Berlin to Constantinople and the East. Part, and a good part, of the Pan-German “Mittel Europa” had thus become an accomplished military fact. Apparently Germany was willing to give up the overrun provinces of Northern France and Belgium, provided that the Entente would consent to her retention of these conquests. The proposal which Falkenhayn made then did not materially differ from that which he put forward in the latter part of 1918(?). This Enver-Falkenhayn interview, as reported to me, shows that it is no suddenly conceived German plan, but that it has been Germany’s scheme from the first.

In all this I saw no particular promise of an early peace. Yet I thought that I should lay these facts before the President. I therefore applied to Washington for a leave of absence, which was granted.

I had my farewell interview with Enver and Talaat on January 13th. Both men were in their most delightful mood. Evidently both were turning over in their minds, as was I, all the momentous events that had taken place in Turkey and in the world since my first meeting with them two years before. Then Talaat and Enver were merely desperate adventurers who had reached high position by assassination and intrigue. Their position was insecure, for at any moment another revolution might plunge them into the obscurity from which they had sprung. But now they were the unquestioned despots of the Ottoman Empire, the allies of the then strongest military power in the world, and the conquerors—at least, they so regarded themselves—of the British Navy. At this moment of their great triumph—the Allied expedition to the Dardanelles had evacuated their positions only two weeks before—both Talaat and Enver regarded their country again as a world power.

“I hear you are going home to spend a lot of money and re-elect your President,” said Talaat—this being a jocular reference to the fact that I was the Chairman of the Finance Committee of the Democratic National Committee. “That’s very foolish; why d............