A Woman in Arabia (30 page)

Faisal had always refused the mandate that the Colonial Office wanted with Iraq. It was a difficulty that had never been resolved until Cox had the idea of substituting a treaty, which Faisal was more likely to accept. It fell to the judicial adviser, Sir Nigel Davidson, in his role as counselor to the high commissioner, to explain the complexities and differences between the two agreements:

Substituting a treaty for the Mandate, that is to say, of exercising the Mandatory's powers and duties through a treaty with the government of the “Mandated Territory” was a stroke of genius.
It solved the difficulty of reconciling the fervid aspirations of the nationalists for complete and immediate independence with Great Britain's responsibilities to the League of Nations for securing (1) the financial stability, (2) the foreign relations, and (3) the adequate defence, of the new state. These responsibilities necessarily involved some measure of control until, in the judgment of the League, Iraq could be trusted to stand alone and be accepted as a member of the League. Unfortunately the term “Mandate” (particularly in the Arab translation) implied a subjection which was intolerable to the nationalist patriots and which the King could never afford to accept; but a treaty between “High Contracting Powers” in which one freely agreed to some limitations in its sovereign rights (as all treaties do) in return for financial, military and diplomatic assistance from the other, was a very different proposition and could be accepted without the stigma of “colonialism.” It was on this basis that the constitutional monarchy of Iraq was established and achieved complete independence without further bloodshed or revolution.

Faisal was satisfied with the substitution of the treaty, and on August 23, was crowned in the carpeted courtyard of the Serai in Baghdad, in front of fifteen hundred guests: British, Arabs, townsmen, ministers, and local deputations.

Baghdad, August 28, 1921

We've had a terrific week, but we've got our king crowned and Sir Percy and I agree that we are now half seas over. The remaining half is the Congress and the Organic Law. . . .

Exactly at 6 [a.m.] we saw Faisal in uniform, Sir Percy in white diplomatic uniform with all his ribbons and stars, Sir Aylmer, Mr. Cornwallis and a following of ADCs descend the Sarai steps from Faisal's lodging and come pacing down the long path of carpets, past the guard of honour (the Dorsets, they looked magnificent) and so to the dais. . . . We all stood up while they came in and sat when they had taken their place on
the dais. Faisal looked very dignified but much strung up—it was an agitating moment. He looked along the front row and caught my eye and I gave him a tiny salute. Then Saiyid Hussain stood up and read Sir Percy's proclamation in which he announced that Faisal had been elected King by 96% of the people in Mesopotamia, long live the King! with that we stood up and saluted him. . . . There followed a salute of 21 guns. . . . It was an amazing thing to see all 'Iraq, from north to south gathered together. It is the first time it has happened, in history.

Gertrude went straight back to the office afterward; it was only breakfast time. Then, and for the following days, crowds of representatives came to greet their new monarch and pay their respects to Cox and Gertrude. She described them in the same letter to her parents.

I . . . arranged for the deputations to pay their respects to [Sir Percy]. . . . It would be difficult to tell you how many people there were in the office at one and the same time. It was immensely interesting seeing them. . . . Basrah and 'Amarah came on Friday, Hillah and Mosul on Saturday; they were the big deputations. Of these Mosul was the most wonderful. I divided it into 3 sections: first the Mosul town magnates, my guests and their colleagues; next the Christian archbishops and bishops—Mosul abounds in them—and the Jewish Grand Rabbi. . . . The third group was more exciting than all the others: it was the Kurdish chiefs of the frontier who have elected to come into the 'Iraq state until they see whether an independent Kurdistan develops which will be still better to their liking. . . .

The Kurds came last and stayed longest. The Mayor of Zakho said that they hadn't had opportunity to discuss with Sir Percy the future of Kurdistan, what did I think about it? I said that my opinion was that the districts they came from were economically dependent on Mosul and always would be. . . . They agreed but . . . they must have Kurdish officials. I said I saw no difficulty there. And the children must be taught in Kurdish in the schools. I pointed out that there would be some difficulty
about that as there wasn't a single school book—nor any other—written in Kurdish. This gave them pause and after consideration they said they thought the teaching might as well be in Arabic, but what about local administrative autonomy? I said, “Have you talked it over with Saiyidna Faisal—our Lord Faisal?” “No,” they said. . . . So I telephoned . . . and made an appointment for yesterday afternoon.

Gertrude described for her family some of the personalities who came to Baghdad to be presented to the king.

The Qadhi of Mosul is perhaps the most darling old man in the whole of 'Iraq . . . looking very wise and very gentle. . . . 'Abdul Latif Mandil . . . with the sharp fine features of the Arab of inner Arabia [is] a great merchant. . . . One of the Christians was little Mar Shim'un, archbishop and ruler of the Nestorians—he is 10, poor little soul. The post goes in the family, from uncle to nephew, for they are celibate, . . . and there he is in full canonicals and great gold cross and chain, doomed to be an archbishop all his days. Sa'id Beg [is] the religious head of the Devil Worshippers. . . . Qadir Agha of Shush deals with no world but this, but he deals with it pretty thoroughly—in Kurdish, he has no other tongue. He is huge man, and gigantically fat. He wears acres of baggy striped trousers gathered round his waist on a string, the jauntiest of fancy waistcoats. . . . He's worth seeing. . . .

I don't see how I'm ever going to tear myself away permanently from this country—do you? The only thing is I feel I'm not being much good as a daughter and sister. Oh dear! it's perplexing. However we have a hard winter's work before us—Congress and Organic Law—and I haven't much time to think of anything else.

The week culminated in an invitation to Gertrude from the king to discuss the design of the new national flag and his personal standard. His first Cabinet was formed; she had secret reservations about three of the nine members and rejoiced that it was no longer her decision.

Faisal's house on the river was ready, and he invited her to his first dinner there. Dressed exquisitely for evening, she floated up the Tigris on his launch. The people of Karradah recognized her as she passed, and they saluted her, smiling. In the distance they heard the drums of Muharram, when the Shias beat themselves with chains and mourn for Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad. Her happiness is evident in every line of the letter she wrote to her father afterward, describing that evening.

September 11, 1921

Have I ever told you what the river is like on a hot summer night? At dusk the mist hangs in long white bands over the water; the twilight fades and the lights of the town shine out on either bank, with the river, dark and smooth and full of mysterious reflections, like a road of triumph through the mist. Silently a boat with a winking headlight slips down the stream, then a company of quffahs each with his tiny lamp, loaded to the brim with watermelons from Samarra. . . . And we slow down the launch so that the wash may not disturb them. The waves of our passage don't even extinguish the floating votive candles, each burning on its minute boat made out of the swathe of a date cluster, which anxious hands launched above the town. If they reach the last house yet burning, the sick man will recover, the baby will be born safely into this world of hot darkness and glittering lights. . . . Now I've brought you out to where the palm trees stand marshalled along the banks. The water is so still that you can see the scorpion in it, star by star; . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and here are Faisal's steps.

By 1921, so much had been achieved. An Arab king was on the throne, and a respected elder of Baghdad, the naqib, was prime minister. The country was in the hands of a Cabinet chosen from an array of representative Iraqis. There remained one sticking point, the mandate, still required by the League of Nations.

October 17, 1921

They are getting down to the treaty between the British and 'Iraq Govts. Sir Percy told me he didn't anticipate any difficulty, and when it is framed it will be an immense obstacle cleared from our path. Faisal has been living in terror of it; he is afraid that the British Govt. may ask him to agree to terms which he can't get his nationalists to accept, as the French Govt. did in Syria. Till that nightmare has vanished he has no sense of security. I don't think he has reason for anxiety. Sir Percy realizes very well what divergent elements have to be reconciled, and as we've seen before, when Sir Percy makes a pronouncement Mr. Churchill has to toe the line.

Months passed and Faisal still continued to refuse to agree to the mandate or sign the treaty. Churchill finally sent a telegram ordering Cox and Faisal to London, where they knew he would give them an ultimatum. In the confrontation, Iraq as they knew it could cease to exist: the battle was within a hairbreadth of being lost.

Cox, taking strength from the fact that he was close to retirement, now used his personal authority. He replied to Churchill that he saw no advantage in coming to London. He proposed publishing the treaty in Iraq, as agreed with the king, adding a rider that the mandate was their only point of difference. The king could then show his people that he had fought for the best terms possible. However, two more years of debate concerning the mandate would follow before a resolution was finally reached.

In spite of problems over the mandate, it was one of the happiest times of Gertrude's life, partly because of her increasing affection for the people she was dealing with.

September 17, 1921

Personally I'm a Sunni but it's no good pretending I don't feel just as near to an old party like Saiyid Ja'far or a Shi'ah tribesman eating haricot beans.

September 25, 1921

I sometimes think how curious it all is, whether it's Fa'iq Beg or King Faisal. People whose upbringing and associations and traditions are all so entirely different, yet when one is with them one doesn't notice the difference, nor do they. Think of Faisal, brought up at Mecca in a palace full of eunuchs, educated at Constantinople, Commander-in-Chief, King, exile, then King again; or Fa'iq, tending his palms and vines, and jogging into Baghdad to seek out the best market for his dates—and both of them run out to greet me with outstretched hands . . . as if I were a sister. And I feel like a sister, that's the oddest part.

And Faisal, when I say I'm going home next summer replies with asperity: “You're not to talk of going
home
—your home is here. You may say you are going to see your father.”

December 17, 1921, Letter to Col. Frank Balfour

You advised me once not to put my heart into it—of course I can't do anything else. From Faisal downwards they've given me a great deal more, in affection and confidence, than I've earned, and if they were to break with me tomorrow I should remain in their debt. Though they have immensely over-estimated my services they can't over-estimate my desire to serve them. Heart and soul I've put into it; and I've had the reward in full measure.

Early in the new year she received a surprising gift.

February 2, 1922

I opened a parcel in the office the other day and out of it rolled a large tiara. I really nearly laughed aloud—it was such an unexpected object in the middle of office files. But it's too kind of you to let me have it—I had quite forgotten how fine it was. I fear in wearing it I may be taken for the crowned queen of Mesopotamia.

March 30, 1922

I wear your diamonds as a necklace and my own in my hair. They look very fine, I assure you, when I dine at the Palace!

On the anniversary of the coronation, Faisal held a formal ceremony at his palace on the Tigris. Gertrude, her now gray hair swept on top of her head, wore a cream lace evening dress pinned with her miniature orders, and her two Bell tiaras, one in her hair and one as a choker. The Residency party joined three or four hundred guests arriving in the courtyard. There they heard behind them the shouts and clapping of a demonstration by two extremist political parties.

The dissidents were gathering strength, but Faisal refused to allow any action to be taken against them unless the mandate was quashed. He also refused to sign the treaty while Britain continued to insist on the mandate.

The political procedure demanded that the king should now pass a vote of confidence in the Cabinet. Faisal, having no confidence in it, said so; and, not for the first time, the entire Cabinet resigned. It would not resume until September, which left the naqib in solitary and ineffectual charge as the anti-mandate insurrection spread. But now fate took a hand and provided Cox with a golden opportunity to break the impasse. The king developed acute appendicitis.

August 27, 1922

We have passed through the most troubled and dangerous 10 days. . . . In the evening [the king's] temperature was up, at 6 a.m. next day, five doctors, two English and three Arab, were debating whether an immediate operation was necessary, at 8 they decided it was and at 11 it was successfully over. Before it was done Sir Percy and Mr. Cornwallis spent an hour with him (this is deadly secret but it's part of history), represented to him that the political position had grown so grave that repressive measures were essential to save the country and begged him . . .
to give them permission to carry them out. He refused. He said he would never be a party to measures which he was confident would plunge the country into a rebellion that could not be suppressed. Until H.M.G. consented to adopt the methods for the publication of the treaty suggested by himself and Sir Percy, he could take no step. Sir Percy replied that that could not be for a fortnight because it was a matter which had to be laid before the [British] Cabinet and the Cabinet would not meet till the first week of September. . . . We could not hold out for a fortnight if we allowed the extremists to go on stirring up trouble.