Paris, January 21, 1919

When the Arabs presented their case and the Emir Faisal,¹ Colonel Lawrence, and General Nouri Pasha came before the Big Four, they were certainly the most resplendent figures that had ever entered the Quai d’Orsay. Dark and subtle, but with a voice attuned to the great open spaces, Faisal talked right out in meeting and glowered down upon the prime ministers of the Great Powers who sat uneasily at his feet. Clearly, he came not as a suppliant but to demand the rights of his people and the observance of solemn agreements which, as the emergency was over, some were inclined to forget. Lawrence was his interpreter and he further emphasized the emphatic words of the desert king.

“The aim of the Arab nationalist movement,” insisted Faisal, “is to unite the Arabs eventually into one nation. We believe that our ideal of Arab unity in Asia is justified beyond need of argument. If argument is required, we would point to the general principles accepted by the Allies when the United States joined them, to our splendid past, to the tenacity with which our race has for six hundred years resisted Turkish attempts to absorb us, and in a lesser degree to what we tried our best to do in this war as one of the Allies.

“My father has a privileged place among Arabs as the head of their greatest family and as Sherif of Mecca. He is convinced of the ultimate triumph of the ideal of unity, if no attempt is made now to thwart it or to hinder it by dividing the area as spoils of war among the Great Powers.

“I came to Europe on behalf of my father and the Arabs of Asia to say that they are expecting the powers at the Conference not to attach undue importance to superficial differences of condition among us and not to consider them only from the low ground of existing European material interests and supposed spheres of influence. They expect the Powers to think of them as one potential people, jealous of their language and liberty, and they ask that no step be taken inconsistent with the prospect of an eventual union of these areas under one sovereign government.”

These words, in the light of subsequent events and the habit of loud-speaking which prevails in the world today, do not sound arrogant or even assertive, but they were so regarded at the time when the Western Powers were flushed with victory and the Khaki election campaign of Lloyd George in England with its promise to “hang the Kaiser” and to exact the uttermost farthing in war indemnities had rolled up such tremendous majorities. And it was further thought that the Emir’s challenge would quicken controversies which had better be allowed to slumber for a season. So, I was asked by one of the Big Four to suggest to Lawrence a change in the tactics rather than in the strategy of his campaign. Might he not soften the impact of some of Faisal’s words that were giving offence in influential quarters? Would it not be wise for him to follow the precedent of Professor Mantoux, the official interpreter at the plenary sessions of the Conference, who smoothed out so many rough places in the impassioned appeals of the nationalistic speakers?

“I see the point and I have the greatest respect for this gentleman,” answered Lawrence. “Perhaps he is right; but I cannot follow his suggestion. You see, I am an interpreter, I merely translate. The Emir is speaking for the horsemen who carried the Arab flag across the great desert from the holy city of Mecca to the holy city of Jerusalem and to Damascus beyond. He is speaking for the thousands who died in that long struggle. He is the bearer of their last words. He cannot alter them. I cannot soften them.”