FIRST MOVES OF TURKEY

The entrance of Turkey, the seat of the ancient Ottoman Empire, into the Great War in 1914, with its vast dominions in Europe, Asia, and Africa, created a situation which it was appalling to contemplate. The flames of world war were now creeping not only into the Holy Land, the birthplace of Christian civilization, but to the very gates of Mecca, the "holiest city of Islam." Would the terrible economic struggle in Europe, the war for world trade, now develop into a holy war that would bring the religious faiths of the earth on to a great decisive battle ground?

The seething flames of economic supremacy that were consuming Europe had threatened from the beginning of the war to creep into the Occident, as we shall see in the chapter on "Japan and the Far East." Moreover, as described in "Naval Operations," it was in the waters of the Near East that the first big incident of the war on the sea took place.

Despite the fact that the public had been looking forward to an immediate clash of the dreadnought squadrons of the two countries somewhere between the east coast of Scotland and the Dutch shore, nothing of the kind happened. Instead, both grand fleets ran to safety in the landlocked harbors of their respective countries.

In was to the Mediterranean in the first week of August, 1914, that the attention of the world was first drawn by events. Two German warships, the Goeben and the Breslau, were off the coast of Algeria. The first was one of the finest ships of the German navy, a superdreadnought battleship cruiser of 23,000 tons, capable of making more than 28 knots an hour. Her main battery consisted of ten 11-inch guns, and in addition she mounted twelve 5.9-inch guns and twelve 21 pounders. She was capable therefore of meeting on equal terms any enemy vessel in the Mediterranean, and more than capable of outrunning any of the heavier vessels of the French or British navy stationed in those waters. The Breslau was capable of a similar speed, but was a much weaker vessel, being a light cruiser of only 4,478 tons. Both of these vessels had enormous coal capacities, the Breslau, in particular, being able to travel more than 6,000 miles without refilling her bunkers.

The speed and the coal capacity of these vessels were to prove of vital importance in the events of the next few days. For their rÔle was to be one of flight, not to battle. England alone and, in an overwhelming degree, England and France combined hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned the two German warships in the Mediterranean. Realizing this, the German commander, after firing a few shots into the Algerian coast towns of Bone and Philippville, steamed northwest with the intention either of outwitting the English and French squadron commanders, or of running through Gibraltar and so on to the broad Atlantic to wage war upon the British mercantile marine. The British, however, were alive to this danger and headed off the two German warships. Whereupon they turned northeast.

Early on the morning of Wednesday, August 5, 1914, these ships were discovered steaming into the harbor of Messina, Italy. The English and French fleets, close upon the heels of the enemy, immediately took up positions at either end of the Straits of Messina, confident that they had successfully bottled up the Germans.

Then quickly there developed one of the most dramatic incidents in the history of naval warfare. It is described in this chapter as well as in the narrative on "Naval Operations" because of its direct bearing on Turkish politics and policies. The captain and officers of the Goeben and the Breslau went ashore at Messina, made their wills and deposited their valuables with the German consul. The decks of the apparently doomed vessels were cleared for action, flags run up to the resounding cheers of the sailors and with the brass bands of the boats playing "Heil dir im Siegerkranz" they steamed swiftly out of Messina harbor to what seemed like certain destruction.

A blood-red sun was quickly setting in the perfect Italian sky. The bands were hushed aboard the German warships, every light was dimmed, and the sailors were ordered to their posts. In tense whispers they discussed the coming fight. The ships were already at top speed plowing through the waters of the Mediterranean as fast as the throbbing engines could urge them. A sharp lookout was kept for the enemy, but as one hour, two hours, three hours passed and none was seen it became apparent that for the time at least they had evaded detection. Rounding the southern coast of Italy, they turned due east and the course laid for Constantinople.

Morning came and still, at 28 knots an hour, the German warships were speeding toward the Turkish capital—and safety. To the rear, too far to reveal their funnels, the pursuing French and English squadron followed, thin lazy strips of smoke attested their presence to the men aboard the Breslau and the Goeben.

Suddenly far to the southeast the masts of a single vessel were seen on the horizon. Then the smokestacks of the British light cruiser Gloucester poked their tops above the skyline and daringly she opened fire on the mighty Goeben. Tempting, however, as the opportunity was for the German commander with an overwhelming force at his heels he dared waste no time nor run the risk of a chance shot disabling his vessel. He sheered off sharply to the northeast and in a few hours lost the plucky Gloucester to view.

At the end of this week in August the Goeben and the Breslau, their engines hot from constant steaming at forced speed, but with flags flying and bands playing, steamed through the narrow channel of the Dardanelles, through the sea of Marmora, and cast anchor off the gloriously beautiful city of Constantinople. As quickly as the formalities would permit the two German warships were transferred to Turkish sovereignty, and to all intents and purposes, as future events proved, the Ottoman Empire entered the war as an ally of Germany and Austria.

Turkey's attitude in these early days of the crisis of August, 1914, was conditioned by several major causes easily discernible. For almost a generation, Germany has been sedulously cultivating Turkish friendship. With that single-minded purposefulness so conspicuous in her diplomacy, Germany found it easy, especially under the rÉgime of the former Sultan Abdul Hamid II to outmaneuver the easy-going diplomacy of France, Russia, and England. Indeed, she found a real rival only in England, who, starting with the initial advantage of long political friendship with the Turkish people and the good will that grew out of the Crimean War, successfully opposed many of the chess moves of her German rival.

However, with the coming to Constantinople as German Ambassador of the late Marshal von Bieberstein, German prestige became supreme. Easily the best German diplomatist of the present generation, Von Bieberstein dominated the diplomatic corps at Constantinople and practically dictated the foreign policy of Turkey. Through him, the Deutsche Bank secured the great Bagdad railway concession and completed the commercial subjugation of the country by Berlin.

These disquieting developments had been watched with anxiety in London. But it was not until Von Bieberstein sprang the Bagdad railway surprise that England fully awoke to the situation. Then she stepped in and prevented any extension of the line to the Persian Gulf, an area which British political and commercial circles regarded as peculiarly their own.

At the same time an effort was made to reclaim the position Great Britain had lost in Turkey. With the fall of Abdul Hamid and the coming of the Young Turks there seemed a chance to do this, especially as Germany was looked upon by the members of the Committee of Union and Progress as the chief support of the deposed sultan. Kaiser William, however, played his cards with consummate skill. The German policy was quickly adapted to the new situation. Von Bieberstein was eventually shifted to London and the leaders of the Young Turks, such as the youthful and popular Enver Bey, were invited to Berlin to come under the influence of the German army chiefs. The British Government, then in the midst of negotiations with Russia and unwilling or unable to enter into any outside arrangement that seemed to oppose the satisfaction of the Russian dream of Constantinople refused to accept the Young Turks' invitation to guarantee the integrity of the Turkish Empire for a limited period in return for commercial and political concessions. On the other hand, Emperor William reaffirmed to the new sultan his guardianship of Islam and his interest in the welfare of the Mohammedans wherever found.

But perhaps the deciding factor in the inclination of the Turks toward Germany and her ally was to be found in the situation of the Mohammedan world. Turkey had never reconciled herself to the English control of Egypt and India and saw in the present war a possibility such as had never occurred before and possibly would never occur again of wresting from the British the far-flung lands peopled by the followers of Mohammed. With powerful allies, and on more even terms than they had ever dreamed of, they could now do battle with the enemy that held their race in subjugation and with Russia, whose avowed object through generations had been the capture of Constantinople, the possession and perhaps desecration of the holy places of their religion and the dismembering of the last self-governing state of Mohammedanism.

These, then, were the major considerations that weighed with the Turkish people, no less than with the Turkish Government, in coming to a decision. So tremendous were the stakes at issue, so widespread, almost world-wide, were the interests involved, that Turkey, situated as it was guarding practically the sole gateway leading from Europe to Russia, could not hope to remain neutral. For better or for worse a decision between the two warring factions must be made.

England, France, and Russia protested vigorously against the action of the Turkish Government in taking over the Goeben and the Breslau. Turkey replied by drawing attention to an incident that had seriously inflamed public opinion in the Ottoman Empire. When the war started two first-class battleships, the Sultan Osman and the Reshadie, were nearing completion for Turkey in English yards. Without any diplomatic preliminaries the British admiralty confiscated the two ships on the grounds of naval necessity. Whatever may have been the English motive, the Turkish people regarded this as an attempt on the part of England to weaken the Ottoman Empire and to make it impossible for it to safeguard its national interests in the troublesome days that were surely to come to neutrals as well as to belligerents.

But the Entente Powers hesitated to force a break on the Goeben and Breslau question and the diplomatic correspondence of the period shows that they had strong hope, not only at that moment, but up to the moment of the final severance of relations of keeping the Turkish nation in a state of neutrality at least. Signs were multiplying, however, that such was not the intention of those in control at Constantinople.

In August and September, 1914, great activity prevailed throughout the country. Arms and ammunition, especially heavy artillery in which the Turkish army was notoriously weak, constantly arrived from Germany and Austria. Every train from the central countries brought German army officers and a sprinkling of German noncommissioned officers with which to stiffen the Ottoman troops. The army was mobilized and General Liman von Sanders, a distinguished German officer, was appointed inspector general of the Turkish army. Immense stores of food and munitions were concentrated at Damascus, Constantinople, Bagdad, and on the Trans-Caucasus frontier, while a holy war against the infidel was openly preached.

German vessels lying off Constantinople seem to have been given more or less of a free hand and frequently searched Russian and British vessels for contraband. The Turkish authorities appear to have gone as far as they dared in preventing Russian supplies getting through to the Black Sea. Russia protested and at times, along the shores of the Black Sea, used methods closely bordering upon open warfare. Both sides, however, seemed reluctant to take definite steps toward an open break. In so far as Turkey was concerned this was probably due to a disagreement among the members of the Government and others of powerful influence outside official life. It was said that the sultan, the grand vizier, and Djavid Bey, Minister of Finance, as well as a majority of the cabinet, were opposed to war. However that may be, the issue was soon decided by a small but immensely powerful clique headed by Enver Bey and Talaat Bey, two of the more prominent and forceful of the Young Turk leaders of the Committee of Union and Progress.

Of all the figures in Turkish life during the first months of the Great War, the most picturesque and probably the most influential in the events that led up to the outbreak of hostilities in Turkey was that of the youthful Enver Pasha. He was one of the heroes of the remarkable rebellion that resulted in the downfall of Abdul Hamid, and since then he had ever played a leading part in the constantly shifting drama in Constantinople. Dapper, alert intelligent, and approachable, modest almost to the point of shyness, Enver was almost a venerated figure among the Turkish people. As he passed on horseback, his slim figure erect and stiff in its military pose, he attracted more attention and interest than did the sultan himself.

He formed the chief and perhaps the strongest link between Constantinople and Berlin. Honored in an unprecedented manner by the sultan, Enver's influence in Constantinople was almost supreme. It is through him that the various negotiations with Berlin were conducted. Soon after the triumph of the Young Turk movement Enver went to Berlin as military attachÉ to the Turkish Embassy, and thoroughly imbibed the Prussian military spirit. He returned to the Turkish capital an enthusiastic admirer of the German army system and became a willing ally of General Liman von Sanders in the latter's attempt to repair the weaknesses of the Turkish army revealed by the Balkan War.

Second only to Enver Pasha in those critical days was Talaat Bey, an old and more experienced member of the inner council of the Committee of Union and Progress and also a prominent figure in the revolution against Abdul Hamid. He was described by Sir Louis Mallet, British Ambassador to Constantinople, as the most powerful civilian in the cabinet and also as the most conspicuous of the leaders of the Committee of Union and Progress. He was troubled by no such personal modesty and shyness as was Enver. He was, however, a much harder man to judge. Enver was openly pro-German in the weeks that preceded the actual break with the Entente Powers, but for a long time the real intentions of Talaat Bey were in doubt—at least they were to the British, French, and Russian Ambassadors.

Djemel Pasha, Minister of Marine, while pro-German in his sentiments, is believed to have hesitated in advising an open break, largely because of the condition of the Turkish navy and the state of Turkish finance. The arrival of the Goeben and the Breslau, the importation of hundreds of German sailors to stiffen the Turkish marine, and, during October, the receipt of about $20,000,000 in gold from Berlin, won him over. In the end Djemel Pasha stood with Enver and Talaat.

Other members of the Turkish Cabinet made a demonstration of attempting to hold their country to an uneasy neutrality. Whether their efforts were sincere or designed to prevent an open rupture until the psychological moment had arrived it is impossible to say. Sir Louis Mallet, in his private dispatches to his Government, expresses his firm conviction that the sultan, the heir apparent, the grand vizier, Prince Said Halim, Djavid Bey, the Minister of Finance and a clear majority of the cabinet were determined not to allow Turkey to be drawn into the war. Up to the very last minute the British Ambassador did not despair of the success of this peace party. Events were too strong for these advocates of neutrality—events and the control of the all-important army and navy by Enver and his associates. By the sword the Ottoman Empire was reared and by the sword it has been ruled ever since.

During the months of September, 1914, and October, 1914, there were many plain signs that Enver Pasha and Talaat Bey were heading straight for a break. On September 9, 1914, the Porte gave notice of the proposed abolition of the capitulations by which the various powers enjoyed extraterritorial rights. At the same time what amounted to a final demand was made upon the British Government to return the two Turkish battleships seized at the outbreak of the war.

Extraordinary efforts were made by all the Entente Powers to keep Turkey neutral. They proposed to agree to the abolition of the capitulations as soon as a modern judicial system could be set up in Turkey; they agreed to guarantee the independence and integrity of the country for a limited but extended term of years; they declared that Turkey would not suffer by any changes of national frontiers growing out of the war; and England even promised to return the two superdreadnoughts upon the conclusion of the war, claiming that their retention meanwhile was absolutely necessary for her protection.

The main stipulations made by the Entente Powers in return for these concessions were that the German crews of the Goeben and the Breslau be sent out of Turkey and that General Liman von Sanders and the other members of the German military mission be dismissed. With these demands Turkey refused to comply, after hesitating over the first. Indeed, the strength of the German stiffening in Turkey was constantly becoming greater: by the middle of September there were no less than 4,000 German officers and noncommissioned officers in Constantinople alone and every train from the north brought others. This situation of tension between Turkey and the Entente Powers continued all through September and October. The outside world momentarily expected an open rupture.[Back to Contents]