February 24, 1919

Several days ago, a petit mot came from Iswolsky, whom I had known fairly well in other days when he was the ambassador and again when he directed the foreign affairs of Holy Russia. Today he is a refugee from the Reds and when I called, I found him lodged at the Meurice in an attic room, one of the class to which the valets of important visitors were generally assigned. He is recovering from a sharp attack of influenza which has left with him a hacking cough.

Fortunately for me he did not choose to talk about the New Russia. He merely said:

“I am a man without a country. Today Russia is a vacuum, and what I might say about the actual situation would be pure guessing.”

He did, however, lift another corner of the veil that has so long shrouded the Secret Treaties. In fact, he revealed another angle of the Sykes-Picot agreement, which even in its simplest form, the only one we are allowed to know, is giving the Conference so many headaches. (See the nest chapter on the Arabs.)

“It is quite forgotten that Russia was a party to that arrangement as much as France and Britain. Yes, in those days,” he interjected bitterly, “Russia was a great power and had to be consulted.

“In the first six months of the war we had overrun Galicia; we had rescued Serbia from the Austrians; our war objectives had been achieved and many at home thought why should we not reach a separate peace with the Central Powers unless something further is offered us. another bait?

“And Italy? She was not faring very well; she wanted something more than had been promised by the Treaty of London, which drew her into the war. In these circumstances, in May, 1916, the Sykes-Picot agreement was concluded, arranging an almost complete partition of Turkey in Ada as well as in Europe. France was to take at least the coastal strip of Syria and southeastern Anatolia. Britain was to get southern Mesopotamia and also the ports of Akka and Haifa on the Mediterranean; we were to get most of Turkish Armenia.

“Of course, these arrangements were concealed from the Arabs and from the Italians, to whom conflicting promises had been made previously, but there was a leak somewhere, and the Italians screamed to the high heavens; to placate them, the British, Italian, and French prime ministers met at St. Jean de Maurienne (April, 1917) and the cards were reshuffled. Italy had to be given more to keep her in the war. This was before Caporetto, you see, and we had not begun to appreciate how heavy was the handicap of her assistance. Italy had to be appeased, she wanted ‘more’ and she demanded and was given, on paper, southwestern Anatolia with the towns of Adalia, Konia, and Smyrna. Practically the whole coast of Asia Minor was in this way earmarked for Italy. But there was a flaw in the arrangement, not through inadvertence, I fear. Britain and France signed the agreement, but as this belated consolation prize for Italy infringed on the Russian sphere at the Dardanelles, it was stipulated that only after the consent of Russia had been secured would the arrangement become effective, and that consent was never given.

“The promised booty was very tempting, but the Italians, doubtless wisely, hesitated to go in alone and take it. And now it would seem that Clemenceau and Lloyd George, and perhaps even Wilson, are urging the Greeks to go ahead and take what was promised to Italy. How confusing it all is, and how shameful. The men of the Soviets are, of course, absolutely without scruples, but at least they refuse to be bound by any of these secret partition treaties.”

When I reported to House Iswolsky’s revelations, he lifted his hands to heaven and said:

“Perhaps on the day of final judgment we shall learn all the details of the secret treaties, but I greatly fear not before. Sykes-Picot agreement! Well, it was not only the king in Hedjaz who was hoodwinked.”