[Illustration, Guests in Turkey, from John Clark Ridpath, Ridpath’s History of the World (Cincinnati: The Jones Brothers Publishing Company, 1899), vol IV.]

[Note: Arthur John Byng Wavell (1882-1916) was a British soldier and adventurer who traveled in disguise to Mecca in 1908 and went on to Yemen in 1911 to witness fighting between the Zaydi imam’s troops and the Ottoman Turks. This account was originally published in 1912.]

The hour was late and the smoking room almost deserted when the conversation about to be reported took place. My companion the Pasha was a tall, heavy man, on whose sunburned and lined countenance a long life in the open air and many hard-fought campaigns in tropical countries had left their traces. He had been a field marshal once, but that was in the days of Abdul Hamid, when as some one said after the American civil war, “you could not spit out the window without hitting a major-general.” It was to this latter rank that the reshuffle which followed hard on the constitution had reduced him…

The Pasha regarded me with some curiosity.

“Do not think,” he continued after a pause, “that I blame you. On the contrary: I am a patriot myself, and I admire a man who works for his country. To be a spy requires courage and resource. I admire you, and think that you deserve the highest honours England can award you; but I daresay,” he continued with a grin, “you are not doing so badly out of it, eh?”

I tried to assume an expression indicative of my wounded feelings as I replied:

“I fear your Excellency has misunderstood me, or perhaps I have expressed myself badly. I was making or endeavouring to make, if you prefer it, a journey for purely scientific purposes. I wanted, as I have just told you, to explore certain parts of Arabia which are at present unknown, and my expedition had no connection whatever with the British Government or any one else except myself and, in a sort of way, the Geographical Society.”…

“My dear boy,” said the Pasha, “you can keep all that sort of stuff for Mohammed Ali, and have the great kindness not to consider me a perfect fool. Have I lived more than half a century for nothing? Do you expect me to believe you risk your life and spend your time in these beastly countries for nothing? You and your Geographical Society! Fichtre! Besides,” he went on, “I know more than you think. I can show you some correspondence about yourself that may surprise you.”

“Indeed,” I said, “and what may it be about – this sacred correspondence?”

“About you, and your doings up in Sanaa. We know, for instance, that you had 20,000 [British pounds] to distribute among the rebels.”

“Heavens!” I exclaimed, “do you suppose that if I had 20,000 [British pounds] I should be fool enough to give it away to those swine?”

“Not all of it, perhaps,” chuckled His Excellency, leaning across the table to dig me in the ribs and taking the opportunity to help himself to four fingers of my whisky; to which, by way of homage to the conventions, he proceeded to add a little water.

That was not what I had meant at all.

“Look here,” I said, “I give you my word of honour” – the Pasha smiled – “very well then, if you like, I swear on my hopes for the hereafter, by the right of the Prophet –”

“Fiche-moi la paix!” he cried, laughing heartily, “toi et ton Prophète!”

“You don’t believe in the Prophet?” I asked, disconcerted.

“No, I don’t,” said the Pasha, “nor do you. Le vieux farceur! You tell me all these things and expect me to believe them? You should know better. Of course you will not say so – quite right; but I know that you have been to all these places, Tripoli, Hedjaz, and the rest, to collect information for your War Department – what else?” …

“That may be so,” responded the General, “but we are not such fools as you take us for. What do I care for the Yemen or the Hedjaz? Je m’en fous! Take them all if you like, and give me Paris. But don’t tell me you work for nothing. Your War Department –”

“Can go to perdition so far as I am concerned” – I was beginning to get heated. “Do you seriously suppose that if we wanted information about these countries we could not get it in a dozen better and cheaper ways? You may believe it or not, as you like, but our War Department takes so little interest in the whole affair that they won’t so much as ask me what happened in Sanaa. Do you really believe that the British Government spends these huge sums of money to interfere in your miserable squabbles with the Imam and the rest of them? Twenty thousand pounds? Why, if the Porte offered to sell the whole province for twenty thousand piastres I don’t believe any country in Europe would be fool enough to buy it. And if England did want to help the Arabs against you, do you imagine it would be done in this sort of way? When we want to send spies to a place we don’t give official assurances about them. That may have been Abdul Hamid’s way of doing things, but it isn’t ours. You talk of the new régime, of civilization and progress, yet you can’t believe that any one can do anything from disinterested motives. If you or Mohammed Ali or any one else would think over the matter for two minutes you would see the absurdity of your idea.”

“I know what I know,” replied the General imperturbably: “every one who does anything expects to get something. Your country wants more land, we all know that, and will take ours if it can. Good. All Governments are bad and one pack of thieves is no worse than another. Islam or Christianity – what does it matter? Fairy tales – as you know as well as I do. The new régime – bah! la bonne blague! Abdul Hamid was a rogue and made what he could for himself when he had the chance! Then some bigger rogues came and took his place. The Prophet was a rogue, the Sultan is a rogue, and so is Mohammed Ali. They all do the best they can for themselves. I am a rogue myself,” concluded his Excellency as he again refilled his glass, “and so are you.”

[Excerpt from A Modern Pilgrim in Mecca and a Siege in Sanaa, by Arthur John Byng Wavell. Reading: Garnet Publishing, 2005[1912], pp.v-vi, 181-183.]