Britain’s Unfulfilled Mandate for Palestine

Britain’s Unfulfilled Mandate for Palestine

Britain’s Unfulfilled Mandate for Palestine Nick Reynold

LEXINGTON BOOKS Lanham • Boulder • New York • London

Published by Lexington Books An imprint of The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanham, Maryland 20706 www.rowman.com 16 Carlisle Street, London W1D 3BT, United Kingdom Copyright © 2014 by Lexington Books All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Reynold, Nick, author. Britain's unfulfilled mandate for Palestine / Nick Reynold. pages cm Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-7391-8700-5 (cloth : alk. paper) -- ISBN 978-0-7391-8701-2 (electronic) 1. Palestine--History--1917-1948. 2. Mandates--Palestine--History--20th century. 3. Palestine--Politics and government--1917-1948. 4. Great Britain--Foreign relations--Palestine. 5. Palestine--Foreign relations--Great Britain. I. Title. DS126.R487 2014 956.94'04--dc23 2014009834 TM The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992. Printed in the United States of America

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Abbreviations AE: Arab Executive B-G: David Ben-Gurion CO: British Colonial Office FO: British Foreign Office HC: British High Commissioner KKL/JNF: Jewish National Fund—land acquisition agency OETA: Occupied Enemy Territory Administration— Military Government in Palestine 1917–1920 PMC: Permanent Mandates Commission (Geneva) PZE: Palestine Zionist Executive VL: Va’ad Leumi (Palestine Jewish National Council) ZO: Zionist Organization

Acknowledgments As a new boy in the field of writing history I have been very dependent on the encouragement and support of those people around me who urged me on. First in line is the late Jon Frankel whom I met in our undergraduate days. Our ways parted until I came to live in Israel and at that time he was a Professor of Russian History at the Hebrew University. He was instrumental in pointing me in the right direction and always had time and patience for me. My Doctoral thesis at Bar-Ilan University was overseen by Professor Moshe Gat who denied that I was his oldest ever student and treated me with kindness and understanding in my quest. Danny Gavron is a well published journalist and author to whom I turned for advice and help. It was he who led me to Rowman & Lttlefield, with whom he had enjoyed a successful relationship, and later on was constrained to write nice things about the book. At Rowman & Littlefield I always received reliable and professional co-operation at the highest level. In particular I would like to sincerely thank Marie-Claire, Sabah, Brian and Ethan. A technophobe like me always needs nursing by an individual with the answers to my desperate questions at his fingertips .To me they appear unsolvable, but to him they are inevitably speedily and easily fixed. Such an individual is Harold HirschThanks Harry. Thanks to family and friends who were entirely supportive and somewhat amazed by the challenge I had undertaken and who willingly or otherwise read the drafts, And last of all a huge thanks to Varda, who was merely inspirational. Nick Reynold Hadera 2014

I

A Mandate Proposed

Introduction The roots of the seemingly never ending cycle of violence and confrontation in the Middle East are to be found in the failure of the two major players, the Palestinian Arabs and the Zionist Jews, to find a Modus Vivendi during the thirty-year period when Britain was the unwilling referee in a dangerous game being played in the area. This book looks into the question of how Britain, the Mandatory power, attempted to carry out the task it had undertaken on behalf of the League of Nations, namely, “to secure the establishment of a Jewish National Home in Palestine.” If, when analyzing how successfully this task was carried out, we conclude that it could have been done better or differently, we might then surmise that the tragic events which quickly followed Britain’s exit on May 14, 1948 might have been avoided. The book is divided into two parts. The first part covers the period from 1917 up to 1931, a period that saw the Balfour Declaration, Allenby’s military administration, the commencement of the British Mandate, and three subsequent civilian administrations. There were four administrations during the period covered by the second part, from 1931 till 1948, and a three-year Arab Revolt. This was followed by the Second World War and the exit of Britain from Palestine. The word mandate, coming from the Latin word mandare, was originally tied up with the concept of command, the person or body receiving the command being the mandatory. The meaning gradually changed over the years so that a mandate became thought of less as a given order, and more, according to the Roman law of mandatum, as a situation whereby property or persons were entrusted to a responsible individual or body for safekeeping. This body then operated its newly given authority and effectively became a trustee. At the end of the 1914–1918 War, the newly created League of Nations, faced with the problem of how to govern fifteen territories that had originally been part of the German and Ottoman Empires, decided that the solution might be in the introduction of a mandatory system, with the territories temporarily entrusted to those of its member countries who might be able to carry out the task of governing them. The fifteen territories were classified into three groups: Class A Mandates comprised the three former Turkish territories in the Middle East: Palestine (a part of which later became TransJordan) and Mesopotamia (Iraq) were awarded to Great Britain, while Syria, including Lebanon, was mandated to France. The Class B and C Mandates were ex-German colonies in Africa, the Far East, and the Pacific. Class A Mandated territories were considered to be those which were near to achieving their independence, so that it was anticipated that the role of the mandatory would be to guide them to that independence quickly and easily. In Class B territories independence did not seem to be in sight, and the mandatory would need to carry out a holding operation for an unspecified period of time. In Class C territories political development was almost completely nonexistent,

and the territories would, for all intents and purposes, be annexed by the mandatory. The League of Nations gave the job of allocating the mandates to individual member countries who set up a Supreme Council for that purpose. Thereafter, when the Council reported back its decision as to whom a mandate was to be awarded, the full League of Nations Council was presented with a fait accompli, and what remained was for it to give its approval and ratification. The job of supervising the mandates was given to a Permanent Mandates Commission (PMC), sitting in Geneva. The role of this Commission was in essence largely supervisory. It had little means of controlling the performance of the mandate, and no mechanism to impose sanctions on a mandatory it considered was not doing its job satisfactorily. The one control tool that the PMC did have was that each mandatory was obliged to send representatives to Geneva at least once a year in order to submit an annual report to the council. During the visit he or she would be closely crossexamined and the country submitting the report could expect close inspection and often criticism as to its contents. In general the mandatory took this appearance relatively seriously, not because of a fear of losing the mandate, but more in order to avoid public criticism by the PMC, which would lead to bad press and possible condemnation by the international community. While it is true that in the period after World War I the major powers had more or less carte blanche in the way they ran their international affairs, at the same time they were also sensitive to any stigma that would arise from being accused of running an unsatisfactory regime. In the case of the Palestine mandate, on occasions the PMC was openly critical of the performance or policy of the mandatory. An example of this occurred after the 1929 Riots, when the Shaw Commission set up by the British government to look into the causes of the riots came to the conclusion that there was no evidence that the riots had been planned by Arab extremists. When the Commission Report was published, the PMC stated that it was inconceivable that there had not been premeditated planning prior to the Riots as the commission reported, and accused the commission of carrying out a “whitewash.” Similarly, the PMC verdict on the 1939 British Government White Paper that proposed limiting Jewish immigration and land purchase, was that it was in total contradiction of the terms of the mandate. On other occasions mandatory officials felt that it would be helpful to discuss planned government action with the PMC in order to clarify their thinking. High Commissioner Wauchope went to Geneva in 1936 to discuss his plans for a Palestine legislative council, and in the following year Colonial Secretary Ormsby-Gore and Foreign Minister Eden also consulted the PMC regarding the Peel Report, which proposed terminating the mandate and partitioning the country. The PMC also made it clear that each and any sector of the population was free to bring any complaint as to how the mandate was being run to Geneva. When the first annual report was submitted in 1924, two anti-Zionist bodies, the Arab Executive

and the ultra-orthodox Agudath-Yisrael, sent representatives who appeared before the Commission. In the main, however, the PMC was only able to shut the stable door after the event. It would have had a more substantial role if the League of Nations, as a body, had been involved in the setting up of the mandate agreements prior to the event, but the agreed procedure was that the country which had undertaken to run the mandate would write its own agreement and fix its own terms after consultation with other interested parties. Thus, the League was left with the job of rubber stamping that agreement, but also in extremis needed to be ready to pick up the pieces in the event of a substantial failure of a mandate. Although the title of my book suggests that Great Britain in essence failed to fulfill its mandatory commitments in Palestine by the time it finally exited the country on May 14, 1948, the picture was not entirely black. Credit must be given to Great Britain for many noteworthy achievements during its thirty years in Palestine, irrespective of the fact that the proposed primary achievement was not realized. I would like to offer two main reasons for this failure to fulfill: In the first place, the planning and preparation of the Balfour Declaration, and later of the Mandate Agreement were badly flawed. The authors of these two documents, while committing Great Britain to the role of assisting in the creation of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine, completely failed to anticipate the reaction to such a Homeland by the Arabs, who made up 93 percent of the country’s total population. A casual observer might have concluded that they had overlooked or forgotten that there were Arabs in Palestine. This was far from being the case. In 1917 Foreign Minister Lord Balfour said: Zionism, right or wrong, good or bad, is rooted in age long traditions and on present needs and future hopes is of far profounder import than the desires of 700,000 Arabs who now inhabit that ancient land.[1]

Figure I.1 Arthur Balfour was Foreign Minister in November 1917, and so it is his name that appears on the Declaration.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem From this we must conclude that Balfour and his planners presumed that when the British took on its task, this 700,000 would be ready and happy to subjugate whatever needs and dreams they might have had to “the far profounder import” of setting up a Jewish Homeland. In neither the Balfour Declaration nor the Mandate agreement were the Palestinian Arabs referred to by name. Apparently they were not considered to be sufficiently important. A small Palestinian Arab nationalist movement was beginning to emerge immediately prior to World War I, but during the war itself and at the time of the Declaration, it was not considered to be any kind of a threat to British plans. However, in the first three years of Britain’s rule in Palestine, this nascent movement was already organized enough to carry out two serious riots in Jerusalem and Jaffa. During the four hundred years of Ottoman rule, such a revolt could not have, and did not happen. A new kind of Arab was about to be seen in Palestine. Following its success in organizing the riots, the newborn Arab leadership in Palestine found the confidence and courage to send a delegation to London in 1921 to confront the mighty British government. It stayed for a year, during which time it attempted to berate the government over its support for the mandate and the Jewish Homeland, and demanded a reappraisal of British government policy in the area. The mainstay of this emerging nationalist movement was the very dangerous and unyielding leader, Haj Amin el-Husseini, the Mufti, who the Palestinian administration

inadvisably patronized for many years. Husseini was happy to accept the patronage and later Hitler’s as well, and proceeded to wage a cunning and cruel campaign against the British and Jews for the next fifty years. The British government’s intelligence and security system in the early 1920s failed to identify a potential Arab opposition or calculate how determined it was likely to be. It evidently did not imagine that the small flame of the 1920s would lead to a serious armed rebellion against British rule from 1936–1939. There certainly were Arabs in Palestine. The mistaken evaluation of potential Arab power, my first reason for Great Britain’s failure to achieve its ambition in Palestine, could have been successfully dealt with, had it not been for the second reason for the nonfulfillment, which was the absence of goodwill and empathy on the part of many British politicians in Whitehall and many of the administration personnel in Palestine toward Zionism and Zionists during the entire mandate period. The Yishuv—the Jewish population in Palestine—had understood, to its delight, that the British Government and the Zionist Organization (ZO) had agreed on a joint enterprise which would revolutionize the status of world Jewry. The reality was very different, and it became increasingly clear that the attitude of the Palestine administration was obstruction rather than support. When the British government realized the extent of the Arab opposition to its proZionist policy, it tended to pander to the Arab side rather than find a balanced, workable solution acceptable to both sides. As the Ottoman Empire had been in a state of impending collapse for many years, the other European powers anticipated an eventual redistribution of its territories. Britain, believing that it had a special status in the Middle East, was at the head of the queue waiting for spoils, and with the outbreak of World War I and Turkey’s decision to fight on the side of Germany, the time for the division of the Empire was getting closer. Realizing that its chief rival in the area was going to be France, Britain quickly made it clear that it had set its sights on obtaining Palestine. For the British government, Palestine was considered to be important as a strategic military base. There was no question that it would tolerate another power, and especially France, getting too close to the Suez Canal, its passage to India. Britain needed a way of ensuring that it would be chosen to be the guardian of Palestine. When Lloyd-George became prime minister at the beginning of 1917, one of his early decisions was to open an Eastern front of the First World War. The government was fully aware of Zionist plans to make part of Palestine their own, and very quickly put forward a proposal which would combine both their interests. Britain and Zionism would travel to the Holy Land on the same ticket. For Britain the cost of the ticket was that the government would go through the motions of appearing to be the sponsor of a Jewish National Homeland in Palestine, and this was later encompassed in Balfour’s famous Declaration. It was said that “Britain came to Palestine on the backs of the Zionists,” and the

author Mayer Verite wrote: had there been no Zionists in those days, the British government would have had to invent them. I have recently been told that Max Nordau (a leading Zionist writer and thinker) made a similar statement at the time of the Decision, so I am in good company.[2] For the Zionists, the cost of the ticket was that they should carry out a substantial PR exercise among the European powers, supporting Britain’s candidature for the Palestine Mandate and generally make it known that they would prefer to be in Palestine protected by Britain, rather than any other power.

Figure I.2 General “Bull” Allenby promised Lloyd-George that his capture of Jerusalem would be the PM’s 1917 Christmas present.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem

Figure I.3 Allenby announces to the inhabitants of Jerusalem how he intends to run his administration.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem General Allenby, commander of the British forces in the Middle East, took Jerusalem in December 1917, a month after the Balfour Declaration, and set up a temporary military government—OETA, Occupied Enemy Territory Administration. To the surprise of the Whitehall government, many officers of that administration expressed strong opposition to the proposal of assisting the Jews to set up their Homeland in Palestine. They saw the Declaration as a political aberration made during a crucial period of the war, with insufficient thought as to its consequences, and urged Whitehall to quietly drop a commitment made in haste. The OETA was in power for two and a half years, until July 1920. During this time the publication of the Balfour Declaration text in Palestine was forbidden; it was seemingly considered to be subversive literature. The Balfour Declaration did not have an easy passage before it saw the light of day, and as a result of this opposition from Jews and non-Jews, there were those within the government who wondered whether its support of Zionism might have been a mistake. Was Britain going to be in the position of the political party that makes generous promises during the election campaign in order to get into power, only to realize after it gets there that the promises are unworkable and consequently has to find some means of conveniently forgetting them? As we shall see later, the answer was, no. Herbert Samuel’s civilian administration succeeded the OETA in 1920. The whole concept of mandatory rule was new and officials who had previously served in colonial administrations’ regimes, running a system perfected by the British over hundreds of years, found it difficult to understand what the parameters of this new system were to be. They anticipated running Palestine in the one way that they knew, namely, by means of an autocratic authority which would rule dictatorially and would pay minimum attention to the nature or needs of its “native” population.

Such an attitude was bound to put them on a collision course with the Yishuv, which did not consider itself just another native population and did not intend to be treated as merely another British colony. At the outset the Yishuv leadership needed to “play ball” with the administration, as it needed British protection. However, once it had begun to build up its own institutions, including its own defense force, there was increasing discord between the two. The rift between them widened substantially, with neither side making any serious effort to close it. The British government had undertaken to help establish a Jewish Homeland in part of Palestine, but its task was made that much harder by its failure to build up a relationship of trust and cooperation with the Yishuv. The average Palestine administration official did not understand Zionist aspirations, and those who did had little sympathy with them. The fulfillment of the Palestine Mandate would have been possible if the British government had done its homework from the outset. Its failure to do so turned the running of the mandate into a nightmare at times. If only there had been more market research and perhaps a public relations campaign, but this was not the way things were done in the 1920s. The situation was further exacerbated because the leaderships of the two communities, Arab and Jewish, were permanently at loggerheads. Surely, however, Great Britain, during the course of its long colonial history, must have had the experience and ability to solve these kinds of problems had it put its mind to it. In my opinion the mandate would have succeeded if there had been genuine interest or initiative on the British side to make it work.

NOTES 1. Documents on British Foreign Policy 1919–1939—first series IV No. 242, p. 345 11/8/1919. 2. Mayer Verite, The Balfour Declaration and its Makers. Essay on Palestine and Israel in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, p. 62.

Chapter 1

From Whence the Mandate Came At the beginning of the twentieth century the concept of a group of nations acting in concert to deal with international problems was unknown. Whereas antiwar voices had been heard and literature began to be seen, it was the shock and horror felt at the needless loss of life during World War I that led to the emergence of movements and the organization of nations who vowed to work together to maintain good relations and prevent further wars. It was envisaged that such a movement, if it could be put together, would act in tandem with a system of international justice acceptable to all those who wanted to participate. Initially two separate and unconnected societies, one American and one British, worked to make this idea a reality. The planned organization would be called the League of Nations. Among the leading personalities involved in the concept were: Cecil Hurst, Lord Robert Cecil, President Woodrow Wilson (represented by his good friend Colonel Edward House), and Jan Christian Smuts. At the Paris Peace Conference in 1919 a special commission was set up with the task of drawing up a covenant for a proposed League of Nations, and in April of that year a draft that had been drawn up by the Englishman Cecil Hurst and the American David Hunter Miller was approved by the commission. The League of Nations was born on January 10, 1920. President Woodrow Wilson came to Paris himself in order to take a leading role in getting the peace treaty passed. He was also very much in favor of the idea of a League of Nations, which seemed to be generally approved by the participants. However, the American Constitution laid down that American participation in such a league would need the approval of Congress. This meant that Wilson would have a big hurdle to get over on his return from Europe. In fact, two hurdles. Firstly, in the main, he did not have public opinion with him. The American public had not forgiven him for failing to explain why he had dragged the country into the war two years earlier. Secondly, the Democrat president was sure to have a great struggle convincing a Republican Senate to give him its support. In addition, the chairman of the Republican Senate Committee for Foreign Relations was Henry Cabot Lodge, a long-standing, implacable foe of Wilson’s, so that the political battle over America joining the League of Nations was strongly influenced by the personalities and pride of the two men. During the discussions and negotiations Wilson was asked to compromise on some of the points contained in his proposals to join the League, but as a matter of principle he was not prepared to do so. Consequently America remained outside, in “Splendid Isolation,” for another twenty years. The absence of one of the anticipated major players from the political arena proved to be particularly beneficial to Britain and France. The way was now clear for the two of them to decide on the future of the Middle East, without restraint from America, and they went ahead with their division of the former Ottoman territories in

the area without disturbance. The two countries had had a long history of antagonism, colonial rivalry, and bellicosity during their past extensive empire building, and this they would continue onto the Middle Eastern stage, as they vied for the biggest slice of the League of Nations cake. Wilson had presented his ideas for a postwar world in a speech to the Paris Peace Conference in early 1919. His blueprint plan was based on a list of “Fourteen Points,” included in which was his strong antipathy to imperialism and his insistence on equal rights for all peoples. In the few months that Wilson was running the postwar show, it was clear that whatever way the former colonies of the vanquished were to be allocated, the allocation would have to be seen to be something completely different from colonialism. The principle that the peace settlement should not be accompanied by any annexation and that it should be based on the right of nations to self-determination had been proclaimed at the end of the war by the leaders of the Russian Revolution and also found expression in the declarations of Allied statesmen (President Wilson). The principle of “non-annexation,” however, envisaged only the negative aspect of the problem, while the principle of self-determination could scarcely be applied automatically to peoples that had not attained an adequate degree of political maturity, and still less to populations devoid of any real national consciousness. In respect of such people, therefore, these principles needed to be adapted to meet different requirements.[1] The mandate system was very much the brainchild of the South African politician Jan Smuts. The idea had previously been discussed in theory over the years, but had never been taken very seriously, as the great powers much preferred colonization. Now that colonization was no longer a viable proposition, the League decided to go for the mandate system. It laid down the general principles of such a system in Article 22 of its Covenant, part of which reads as follows: 1.

To those colonies and territories which as a consequence of the late war have ceased to be under the sovereignty of the States which formerly governed them, and which are inhabited by peoples not yet able to stand up for themselves [emphasis added] under the strenuous conditions of the modern world, there should be applied the principle that the well-being and development of such peoples form a sacred trust of civilization and that securities for the performance of this trust should be embodied in this covenant. 2. The best method of giving practical effect to this principle is that the tutelage of such peoples should be entrusted to advanced nations, who by reason of their resources, their experience or their geographical position can best undertake the responsibility, and who are willing to accept it, and that this tutelage should be exercised by them as mandatories on behalf of the League. [emphasis added]

3.

The character of the mandate must differ according to the stage of the development of the people, the geographical situation of the territory, its economic conditions and other similar circumstances. 4. Certain communities formerly belonging to the Turkish Empire have reached a state of development where their existence as independent nations can be provisionally recognized, subject to the rendering of administrative advice and assistance by a mandatory until such time as they are able to stand alone. The wishes of these communities must be a principal consideration in the selection of the mandatory. I have emphasized some key words and phrases which seem to give the impression that a benevolent big brother was going to undertake to teach and assist his less fortunate little brother until the latter was ready to stand on his own two feet. This is evidently how the planners saw the mandate system operating. When applying the above principles to the Palestine Mandate, it should be noted that section four above states that “The wishes of these communities must be a principal consideration in the selection of the mandatory.” However, whereas the Jews were certainly consulted and were happy that Britain was going to get the job, nobody asked the Palestinian Arabs who they would have preferred to run the mandate, and, as they were to complain later: “Had we been asked we would certainly not have wanted Britain or France, but would have chosen America.” It is unclear whether the American government would have been prepared to take on a mandate in the Middle or Near East. When Balfour went to America in the summer of 1917, he proposed that Britain and America should run Palestine together after the war, but the suggestion was quickly turned down. The president sent the King Crane Commission to Palestine in 1919 to ascertain the feelings of the local population as to possible mandatories, and it seemed that the idea of America being awarded a mandate was popular in Palestine, but in the end the findings of the commission were never published. At one stage America seemed to be considering taking on mandates for Armenia and Constantinople, even though Wilson said: “I can think of nothing the people of America would be less inclined to accept than military responsibility in Asia.” This, however, all came to nothing with Congress’ decision not to authorize the American government to sign the Peace Treaty or join the League. The Peace Treaty with Germany in June 1919 was followed by treaties with the other vanquished nations—Austria, Hungary, and Bulgaria. However, no corresponding treaty with Turkey was arranged at that time. In the following year an attempt was made to conclude such a treaty at Sevres, but this was aborted by the new Turkish regime under Ataturk during the Turkish War of Independence (May 1919–October 1923). The official peace with Turkey was finally concluded three years later in Lausanne in July 1922, and the official commencement of the Palestine Mandate was on September 29, 1923.

Britain and France, the two countries with declared interests in obtaining mandates in the Middle East, were already in situ and were prepared to continue acting as occupying powers until an interim de facto mandate was agreed upon. This would eventually be followed by a final and permanent mandate agreement. However, until America decided whether it was going to be inside or outside the League, the two nations carried on administrating the territories, although in fact they were in a political and legal vacuum, which came to an end at the end of 1919. In the meantime Britain and France were not idle, and when it began to appear that they would be the only two contenders, a period of intense negotiation and sparring began, culminating in the London Conference of February 1920. Britain had been involved in political shenanigans throughout the war. It had made promises (MacMahon) in 1915/16 to the Arabs led by the Sherif Hussein that they would get their own independent state in a part of Palestine after the war. This was followed a year later by an agreement (Sykes-Picot) with France and Russia that would carve up the Middle East, with fair shares for all. The French would have a coastal strip from the north as far as Haifa, and the Jerusalem area would be shared among different countries, including France. A year later the Zionists had been promised British support for the establishment of a Jewish Homeland in the same small piece of land. Thus when the representatives of France and Britain met to start divvying up the area, the first question the French wanted answered was: if the Sykes-Picot agreement had promised them a strong presence in Palestine, how did Britain intend to satisfy the claims of the Zionists and the Arabs who had also been promised a share of the action in the same small area of land? By today’s standards such a question might have been politically embarrassing, but the tough breed of early-twentieth-century British politicians—Lloyd-George, Curzon, Balfour, and Sykes—saw no problem in the contradictory agreements made to three different bodies, and were quick to remind the French that it was Britain that had conquered Palestine and Syria, and had lost a great many men doing so, whereas the French had been little more than interested spectators. French loss of life had been negligible, and this disqualified them from having a major say in how the Middle East was to be divided. There was no question in British minds that Palestine should be theirs. LloydGeorge was delighted to point out to Clemenceau that Feisal, who at that moment had set up an Arab regime in Damascus, was a good friend of Britain’s, and the British government, pushed very hard by T. E. Lawrence, would probably support his claim to rule Syria. However, if France proved to be compliant and accepted Britain’s overall plans for the area, the British government might be persuaded to jettison him and agree to a French Mandate for the whole of Syria. But in order for this to happen the French would have to give up their ridiculous claims to Palestine. The British had too many cards to play. The French, with one last throw of the dice, pleaded that at least France might be allowed to have a part share of supervising the holy places in Jerusalem. This request, however, also received a firm

“no.” The French government then reluctantly accepted the British proposals and the two countries agreed to meet in San Remo two months later in order to conclude their agreement. San Remo is often thought of as the place where the allocation of the mandates was finally made, but in fact this had already been decided in London. An issue which was particularly important to British Foreign Minister Curzon, who succeeded Balfour, was that the words of the Balfour Declaration must be included in the forthcoming Peace Conference at Sevres in August 1920, which would deal with Ottoman territories. The French opposed this and pointed out that this was a unilateral side issue which was none of the business of the Allies. Curzon, however, insisted that it certainly affected all the parties in the region, and once again the British succeeded in getting their way. The inclusion of the words of the declaration in the mandate agreement was an enormous bonus for Zionism, giving Balfour’s declaration an official stamp and proving that it was more than a letter of vague intentions sent by Balfour to Lord Rothschild. It had now been openly and internationally accepted, and this would obviously enhance both the status of the declaration and the status of Zionism itself. Curzon’s insistence on the inclusion was not because he was in any way a friend of Zionism, but because this gave Britain the opportunity to settle the three conflicting promises it had made, so that by coming down firmly on the side of Zionism, it showed the French that Sykes–Picot was dead. One of the aspects which was not finalized at the London Conference was the question of borders. During the time of Ottoman rule the three areas under discussion were part of the Ottoman Empire, with no borders between them. Thus at that moment Britain and France did not want to undertake the complicated issue of deciding where the borders should be, and in fact it took another two years until they were finalized. Consequently, when Colonial Secretary Churchill decided to create the new country of Transjordan in 1921 by lopping off a large chunk of what was presumed to be the future Palestine, he and Britain were entirely within their rights as a final agreement on the borders had not yet been signed; those who accused Churchill of giving away the Zionists’ birthright failed to realize that what the birthright actually was, was as yet unknown. The Allies’ Supreme Council met in the Italian town of San Remo in June 1920. In addition to Britain and France, representatives of Italy and Japan were also present. Of the four, only Italy came away empty-handed. As a result of the deliberations, Britain obtained two contiguous countries and access from the Mediterranean to the Persian Gulf. It also found itself in possession of an area containing a large number of oilfields. France would have the whole of Syria once it got rid of Feisal. As for the Zionists, they watched with delight as their patron and protector was about to be installed in Eretz Yisrael. It looked as if they were firmly on the path which would lead to the promised Homeland, but once again the Arabs’ needs had been completely ignored. The scheduled plan was that the formula agreed at San Remo would be

presented to the conference at Sevres, and would be confirmed in the final peace treaty. Thereafter it would be ratified by the League of Nations Council. But such plans were not to materialize. Britain and France went ahead with their plans, and began to enjoy their new status as interim mandatories. However, there were those who maintained that the two countries did not have the authority to run the areas until a final peace treaty was settled. This opinion did not seem to deter them in any way. While the words “imperialism” and “empire” had become taboo after World War I, there was much lively discussion and criticism in the press suggesting that a mandate was no more than another word for colonialism. In a statement to the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, an official who had been in the American delegation said that England and France had simply gone ahead and arranged the world to suit themselves, and U.S. Secretary of State Robert Lansing said that the system of mandates was a device created by the Great Powers to conceal their division of spoils under the color of international law. The author Christopher Sykes stated that the decision of Britain and France to implement the provisions of a nonexistent treaty was “highly illegal” and pointed out that: Arab apologists have execrated it as a piece of ill disguised imperialism encouraged by Zionists with the object of profiting from the injustices done to their fellow Semites. Though arguments against the Conference at San Remo can be made to appear formidable, this irregular conduct was more public spirited than otherwise. It was the only sensible thing to do, for in spite of the self-interest shown by the powers . . . the only alternative would have been to keep the Arab world in a state of restive uncertainty. But it is true that alone of the Middle East people the Zionists got what they wanted from the Conference. [2]

The San Remo Conference lasted a week. The question of the mandates was dealt with at the end. Among the leading Zionists present were the Zionist Organization (ZO) President Chaim Weizmann and Nahum Sokolow, who expected good news to be announced, and also Herbert Samuel and David Eder, the head of the Zionist Commission. Whereas the result was pretty much a foregone conclusion, there was an atmosphere of great excitement. Lloyd-George, Curzon, and Balfour warmly congratulated Weizmann, who in his book Trial and Error related how LloydGeorge told him that the Zionists had a very good opportunity and must show what good use they could make of it.[3] Almost immediately Lloyd-George asked Herbert Samuel to be the first British High Commissioner in Palestine, where he would head a civilian administration that would replace the OETA. He planned to arrive in Palestine two months later to take up his position. Finalizing the creation of the Palestine Mandate had taken amazingly little time, roughly four and a half months in all, starting from the London Conference in February

1920, followed by the San Remo Conference in April, and ending with Herbert Samuel’s (soon to be Sir Herbert’s) rule, which commenced on July 1. The powers in Whitehall were evidently in a hurry. One reason for this was that the OETA had been intended to be only a stop-gap administration, but it had already been in power for two and a half years and had become very unpopular, especially with the Zionists. Arab nationalism was beginning to be seen as a potential political force and this had already led to serious rioting in Palestine the previous April. Moreover, it was also rumored that British OETA officers had been actively encouraging the riots and had been involved in their planning. All in all it was clear that the time had come for a new civilian broom to sweep Palestine clean. Samuel had already made a reconnaissance trip in Palestine in March 1920, and emerged as the first senior British politician to realize the significance of the developing Arab Nationalist Movement. In a letter to Weizmann he wrote: I am afraid that matters have not progressed favorably as respect Arab-Zionist relations since you were last in Palestine . . . The chief and most definite conclusion I have found in Palestine is that the Arab situation has been underestimated. . . . The present Zionist Commission has the irritating effect of an alien body in living flesh. I fear it is too late now to get the confidence of the Arabs. But the attempt should not be abandoned.[4] The key words in the letter are “has been underestimated.” Whereas Samuel was confident that he would be a success in his new job as high commissioner, he was under no illusion that inevitably there would be a serious clash between Palestine Arabs and Zionism. This chapter can be summarized as follows: Britain and France had gone ahead and grabbed their mandates. The idea that the League of Nations awarded them such mandates is semantically erroneous, as they actually awarded the mandates to themselves. But the League played ball in order to accommodate the situation and gave its official approval. This was followed two years later, in July 1922, by its ratification. The Zionist side was obviously delighted that the proposed mandate agreement which the two sides would now begin to draw up would include the words of the declaration, and now that the OETA period was about to end, a new civilian government under Samuel would breathe fresh air into the country and hopefully lead to significant progress toward the Jewish Homeland, thus fulfilling the British government promise of three years earlier.

NOTES 1. League of Nations Publication, “The Mandates System,” p. 14, 1945. 2. Sykes, Crossroads to Israel, p. 53.

3. Weizmann, Trial and Error, p. 325. 4. Samuel to Weizmann, Zionist Archives, CZA Z4/15445, 11/3/20.

Chapter 2

Getting Off to a Bad Start in Palestine When Samuel arrived in Palestine as head of the country’s first civilian administration in 1920, he was clearly not fully aware of the legacy he had inherited from the previous military administration, nor did he realize how much its rule had soured relations between the British, Arabs, and Jews. This two-and-a-half-year period set the tone for much of what came later during Britain’s thirty years in Palestine. The mistrust and resentment between the Palestine administration and the Yishuv never really went away. Lloyd-George started to woo the Zionist leadership in March 1917 using Mark Sykes as his contact man. The two sides anticipated strong opposition to the proposed deal, but thought it would come from outside. The two bitter anti-Zionist groups which came into being, however, came from the inside. The first was a small group of English Jews headed by Edwin Montagu, Samuel’s cousin, who strongly believed that as Zionism sought to encourage British Jews to settle in Palestine, this was clearly an act of betrayal against Britain which the British Jews could ill afford. As Montagu was a cabinet minister, he had influence at the top level, indicating the seriousness of this attempt to derail the Zionist campaign. The second campaign, as we have seen, was waged by OETA officers, who even though they got a firm “no” to their suggestions that the Balfour Declaration should be scrapped (from Lloyd-George and Balfour), continued to express their misgivings for another two-and-a-half years. It is important to understand what lay behind the feelings of this group of officers —who were also at the beginning engaged in fighting a difficult war—because their actions in fact set the benchmark for many people on the British side who would not accept Zionism and the Homeland idea. Among the possible explanations is that the declaration was an infringement of the hallowed British doctrine of fair play. Many officers had been serving in Cairo at the time of the Hussein-MacMahon correspondence (to be examined later) and were convinced that Britain had already made a commitment to the Arabs that Palestine would be an independent Arab state after the war. They also felt that the Arabs were particularly vulnerable and at a complete disadvantage when it came to competing with the Jews, who had their worldwide contacts and access to international finance. They could also see that Britain’s double promise would result in a bitter conflict between Jews and Arabs, which would make their job of running Palestine very difficult, even though they were there for a limited time. And a final reason for their opposition was quite simply anti-Semitism, a phenomenon that had always been visible in the top echelons of British society and particularly among its officer class. Coincidentally, there had been a wave of severe anti-Semitism in Britain at the beginning of the twentieth century, following the arrival of impoverished East European Jewish refugees into the country. This in turn had led

to the emergence of right-wing nationalist parties and an anti-Semitic press. The opposition by the officers serving in Palestine to the British government’s pro-Zionist policy was an amalgam of all of these reasons, and some of them seemingly felt so strongly about it that they were prepared to jeopardize their jobs in Palestine rather than compromise. At the same time, the Arabs observing this minirebellion against Whitehall policy understood that they had received a green light to imitate and enlarge on this campaign. The Balfour Declaration of November 2, 1917 made little impact on the British public, and was barely reported in the national press. However, many Jewish communities the world over showed their pure delight. The news was slow in getting to Palestine itself, so that when Allenby‘s men entered Jerusalem a month later they had hardly heard of the declaration, and certainly did not realize its significance. The real crunch came three months later when it was announced that a Zionist Commission headed by Chaim Weizmann was on its way to Palestine in order to translate the vague statement of intent couched in the declaration into real facts on the ground. Weizmann was delighted that Foreign Minister Balfour and the war cabinet had authorized the visit of this small group. Balfour, for his part, could not see any reason why such a commission should not make the trip, although seemingly neither of them had thought through what impact it might make on the OETA. Whereas Allenby was now in control of Jerusalem and the south of the country, the war was by no means over and would go on for almost another year. Consequently, it could be understood that the timing of the commission’s visit was highly inappropriate. In addition, it was not completely certain what its role was to be and what authority it would have when it got to Palestine. Thus, the top OETA officers were far from welcoming. As far as they were concerned, the commission had been imposed upon them by Whitehall politicians without any consultation, and seemingly without any appreciation of the state of play in the country. Ronald Storrs, the powerful military governor of Jerusalem, wrote in his diary in the spring of 1918: when therefore in early March Clayton (Chief Political Officer OETA) showed me the telegram informing us of the impending arrival of a Zionist Commission, composed of eminent Jews, to act as a liaison between the Jews and the military administration and to control the Jewish population, we could hardly believe our eyes, and even wondered whether it might not be possible for the mission to be postponed until the status of the Administration should be more clearly defined . . . it had been from a sense of previousness, of inopportunity that Clayton and I had regretted the immediate arrival of the Zionist Commission, certainly not from anti-Zionism, still less from Anti-Semitism.[1] Storrs, who was a major figure in Palestine for eight years, seemed to be very

quick in denying that he might be thought to be anti-Semitic, but Christopher Sykes, writing about him, said: “A legend of his wickedness and anti-Semitic conspiracy grew around him and is believed to this day in Israel.”[2] Henrietta Szold, one of the early great American Zionists backed this up when she said: Ronald Storrs, a typical younger son of the English novel, said to be Herbert Samuel‘s evil genius, because he inspired the policy of mistrust and deference to Arab wishes. Dilettante, literature, archeologist, excellent music critic, above all he handles the English language like a virtuoso does his fondled musical instrument. He knows all the prominent men and women, their descent and their expectation of peerages and he despises the Jews.[3] Gilbert Clayton himself wrote to the Foreign Office in Whitehall stating that: the British officials of the Military Administration have been fully informed of the Zionist programme and of the intentions of H. M. G. regarding it. It is inevitable however that they should experience some difficulties in consequence of the fact that up to date our policy has been directed towards securing Arab sympathy in view of our Arab commitments. It is not easy therefore to switch over to Zionism all at once in the face of a considerable degree of Arab distrust and suspicion.[4] A hypothetical conversation between two OETA officers in the spring of 1918 could have gone something like this: A: Have you heard, those stupid politicians in Whitehall have promised Palestine to the Jews? But everyone knows that we have already promised it to the Arabs, who are much more important to us. If we break our word to them, there will be all hell to pay. B: And what is more, I have heard they are going to send out here a deputation of Jews who are going to tell us what to do and how we should be treating their people. I can’t imagine that anyone from our end is going to have anything to do with them, especially in the middle of a war. The Lloyd-George cabinet took little notice of the flow of complaints and unsolicited advice from Palestine, and Weizmann and his colleagues set sail excitedly for Palestine, naively expecting maximum cooperation from the administration. It wasn’t until they got off of the train from Cairo that they found out what the real situation was. The excitement quickly turned sour and the commission members realized that it was going to be no honeymoon. Allenby and the British High Command were entirely focused on beating the Turks and Weizmann found it almost impossible to meet the commander-in-chief face to face. When they did eventually meet, Allenby reminded him that Britain was bound

by the Hague Convention of 1907 governing the administration of occupied territory in time of war, which laid down that the status quo had to be maintained in the territory, and therefore it was not going to be possible to make many changes in the short term. He personally did not want to be in Palestine very long.

Chaim Weizmann, captain of the Zionist ship for over forty years.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem After his first long interview with Allenby, Weizmann was of the impression that he was not overtly anti-Zionist, but merely skeptical about whether the idea of a Jewish Homeland would work. He told the commander-in-chief that the Zionist Commission found it very difficult to operate in the face of the extreme antagonism of many of his officers. He also pointed out that the Arabs were keenly watching the situation and learning from the relationship between the OETA and the Yishuv, and understood that as the administration strongly opposed Zionist ambitions, this was the line that they could also safely adopt. Weizmann suggested that the coming of the Jews to Palestine could only benefit everyone living in the area. He pointed to the villages founded by Rothschild, which were oases of fertility in the surrounding wastes of sand, in startling contrast to the Arab villages with their mud hovels and dunghills. He added: you have conquered a great part of Palestine and you can measure your

conquest by one of two yardsticks: either in square kilometers—and in that sense your victory though great, is not unique: the Germans have overrun vaster areas—or else by the yardstick of history. If this conquest of yours be measured by the centuries of hallowed tradition which attach to every square kilometer of its ground, then yours is one of the greatest victories in history. And the traditions which make it so are largely bound up with the history of my people. The day may come when we shall make good your victory, so that it may remain graven in something more enduring than rock in the lives of men and nations. It would be a great pity if anything were done now—for instance by a few officials or administrators—to mar this victory.[5] Weizmann saw that Allenby was at first taken aback by this tirade, but when he had regained his composure, he said: “Well let’s hope it will remain good.” Of the senior OETA officers, Allenby was not an opponent, but merely a skeptic. His right-hand man Clayton originally thought that the declaration was a bad idea, but was looking forward to the arrival of the Zionist Commission, thinking that it might build bridges with the Arab community. The head of military intelligence, WyndhamDeedes, coming from a background of religious Christianity, eventually became a lifelong friend of Weizmann and of the Zionist movement. It was at the next level down that the strongest opposition was felt. In the OETA period from December 1917 to July 1920, there were three chief administrators in Palestine: Generals Money, Watson, and Bols, each of whom aggressively opposed Zionism. They set the tone for their subordinates and the junior ranks, who were happy to follow their example. On one occasion, General Richard Money wrote in his diary: I feel a particular apathy towards Jews in Jerusalem. They are the Pharisees of the New Testament, insistent on the letter of their religion and bringing new generations in their schools to be dirty idle wasters. Their men turn out to be more idle wasters and their women more prostitutes than the rest of the population put together.[6] On another occasion he wrote in an official report: the Jews are a class inferior, morally and intellectually to the bulk of the Muslim and Christian inhabitants of this country.[7] Finally, when he left the country for the last time in 1919 for reasons unclear, he wrote: I am more inclined to go since I see every prospect of the edifice I have built with some labor, being pulled down by Messrs Balfour, Lloyd-George and their long nosed friends.[8]

It was said that Zionist pressure led to him being sacked from his job. But he denied this allegation and said he had left of his own free will. His successor General Watson wrote: the great fear of the people is that once Zionist wealth is passed into the land, all territorial and mineral concessions will fall into the hands of the Jews whose intensely clannish instincts prohibit them from dealing with any but those of their own religion to the detriment of Christians and Moslems. These latter, the natives of the soil, foresee their eventual banishment from the land. They need protection, the strongest protection against the alien coming to their land.[9] On hearing that Bols was to be the third chief administrator, the pro-Zionist commander of the Jewish battalions, Colonel Patterson, said that he had known him, having worked with him for two years, and knew that he was an out and out antiSemite who would leave no stone unturned to destroy the Jewish National Home, root and branch. He was so agitated by the whole matter that he boarded a train and went down to Cairo the same day, in order to warn Weizmann of the danger, urging him to oppose Bols’ appointment with all his might and main.[10]

The Zionist commission arrives in Palestine, much to the disapproval of the military leadership.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem The Zionist commission was the forerunner of future Jewish governing bodies. It became the Palestine Zionist Executive (PZE) in the 1920s and then the Jewish Agency in 1929, from which emerged the first government of Israel. Its brief was to “carry out, subject to General Allenby‘s authority, any steps required to give effect to the Government’s declaration in favor of the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people.” The scope of its activities was:

to co-ordinate relief and repatriation work, to assist the restoration and development of the colonies (kibbutzim) and organizing of Palestinian Jewish population generally, to assist Jewish organizations and institutions in the resumption of their activities, to help to establish necessary political connections with Arabs, to collect information and prepare plans for future development of colonies and country generally.[11] The original commission members personally chosen by Weizmann were Weizmann himself, Israel Seiff, Leon Simon, David Eder, and Joseph Cowen. The French government sent Sylvain Levy and the Italians sent Commendatore Levi Bianchini. Major James de Rothschild was a fringe member, and the liaison between the commission and the administration was handled by Major William Ormsby-Gore. Weizmann allocated specific areas of work to his team. David Eder, who had been a doctor in socially deprived areas in Britain, was given the task of liaising with the impoverished Jewish religious community in Jerusalem, which was living almost entirely off of charitable handouts (challukah). Had this kind of social work and community support been the extent of the commission’s activities it might well have been acceptable to OETA officers. However, the commission members quickly took up political positions, and began to criticize how the country was being run and to make a string of demands on behalf of the Yishuv, which the OETA found to be unreasonable, if not impertinent. At the initial conference held by the commission in Jaffa, an “Outline for the Provisional Government of Palestine” was formulated. Amongst its demands was that Palestine was to be acknowledged as ‘the Jewish Homeland in whose affairs the Jewish People as a whole shall have the determining voice,” that the Jewish flag was to be the national emblem, and the name Palestine should be changed to Eretz Yisrael. It should be noted that at this moment the Jews comprised less than 10 percent of the population of Palestine. Subsequent demands were that Hebrew should be one of the official languages, and all public announcements, oral and written (including postage stamps), should also have a Hebrew content. It was also demanded that the land registry, which had been closed since the departure of the Turks, should be reopened in order to enable Jews to purchase land. One of the areas of greatest conflict between the commission and the military command was over the status of the Jewish Battalions, which the war office had authorized in 1917 and which arrived in Palestine in the spring of 1918. It was quickly felt that the war office had made a policy decision that the battalions should be little more than symbolic. They saw no real active combat and were confined to occupying and guarding captured territories, but not in Arab areas or in large towns or country areas where there were kibbutzim. The Arabs quickly understood the army’s attitude toward the Jewish soldiers, and as a result the two senior officers in the battalion, Colonel Patterson and Lieutenant Jabotinsky, resigned

their commissions in frustration and disgust. One of the early Yishuv leaders, Yitzhak Ben-Zvi (who later became President of Israel), served in one of the battalions, and wrote to his wife in October 1918: the entire country has been conquered from end to end, and the heart aches at the thought that we took no part in all this, and especially when we were so very near, on the threshold of the Land.[12] The commission did not win this battle over the battalions, and fought similar battles against the administration, claiming that Jews were not being accepted into the police force and that the number of Jews working in government departments was very low. The point was made that Arab employees settled for much lower wages than their Jewish counterparts. This being the case, the commission then agreed to subsidize such workers with money raised in the Diaspora. In a letter to Balfour in March 1918, Deedes wrote: “It may be mentioned that even now Jewish funds pay Jewish police in Palestine.” The commission members spent a great deal of their time watching OETA officers in order to uncover supposed misdemeanors that they might have committed. On one occasion they complained that British officers at a concert deliberately remained seated when the Jewish anthem (Hatikva) was played. On another occasion, when Storrs attended a pantomime at an Arab school at which nationalistic and anti-Zionist slogans were bandied about, they pointed out that he did not make any protest or leave the show, and by not doing so, in their eyes, showed his tacit approval of the demonstration. Many OETA officers who had served in the British colonies had never experienced a situation where a local population dictated its requirements to British authorities, something they found very difficult to accept. The problem was compounded by the fact that Weizmann and his Zionist colleagues had many strong contacts in Whitehall, including the prime minister and the foreign secretary, and were never slow to go over the heads of local administration officers and use these contacts if they did not get the right responses to their complaints from the OETA. It would appear that the Zionist commission had not approached its task with sufficient tact or sensitivity. Christopher Sykes described the situation as follows: if the Zionist Commission had done what most people outside the Zionist party wanted them to do: if they had been nice mannered, accommodating, broad minded, discreet and friendly to Arab nationalists, they could certainly have been maneuvered into a position of minor importance, that of a welfare organization for a group of Jewish settlements, and from such a position escape might have become difficult, almost impossible. Evidence shows that this is the position that the Administration would have liked the Jews to occupy, not (except in isolated cases) through ill will towards them, but to their credit, through a genuine wish to be fair to both sides, and less to their credit, but not to their blame, through keen

regard for the pleasure of a quiet life, especially after the fatigues of a long war. Their conduct became anti-Zionist because they were enemies to enthusiasm, and Zionism lived on enthusiasm.[13] But it cannot be said that either the presence or the behavior of the Zionist commission was the reason for the anti-Zionism of OETA officers. They were already firmly anti-Zionist, so that the unwelcome presence of the commission merely exacerbated their feelings. Even though the Zionists had many good friends in Whitehall, the OETA found ways of retaliating against the Zionist commission’s “impudence” [my word]. First, they had and used the weapon of needing to maintain the status quo. This enabled them to turn down many of the commission’s demands. The Hatikva anthem was banned from public performances. There was strong opposition to the plan to build the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, and administration officers would not cooperate in its foundation until they received a specific directive from the Foreign Office. Balfour himself made it clear that he wanted it built, but even so, when the foundation stone was laid in July 1918, Allenby attended the ceremony but forbade any other British officers from taking part. Jewish immigration was prohibited except for repatriations. Hebrew was not recognized as an official language, and Jews rarely got the necessary authorization for land transfers, nor did they generally obtain posts in government service.[14] The Israeli historian Mordechai Hacohen wrote that the administration staff went out of its way to make it difficult for Jewish businesses. They insisted that all documentation had to be in Arabic in addition to English. They delayed permission for laying roads, telephones, and water supplies to kibbutzim. They put bureaucratic delays in the paths of exporters that often led to ruined produce, and informed Jewish businessmen that all the trains were needed for military purposes and could not be used to carry commercial goods. There was certainly a war going on between the OETA and the Yishuv as represented by the Zionist Commission. Storrs, in his memoirs dealing with Jewish complaints against the administration, wrote: “There were amongst us two or three officers in high positions overtly against the declared policy of His Majesty’s Government.” Weizmann, however, saw the problem as being much wider and in a letter to the ZO wrote: from reports I have gathered from British sources, it appears that at every officers’ mess, at every dinner party, there is quite open and free talk about the “damned Jews, the intruders, the Bolsheviks, who have come here to oust the Arabs, to make the position of the British impossible.” All responsibility is laid at the door of the Jews. Mr. Balfour has made a mistake. It is wrong policy etc, etc, and obviously this mot d’ordre goes down from the top to the very last sergeant, and you can understand the atmosphere thus “”created. The Arab prestige and their insolent behavior towards us increase in direct proportion to the lowering of our positions here.[15]

It would seem that opposition to the Whitehall government policy and opposition to Zionist aspirations were acceptable during the period of the OETA. There were, however, some individuals who overstepped the mark in their opposition and paid the price for it. We have already seen the case of General Money, whose departure from Palestine was never really explained. Major Hubbard was the military governor of Jaffa, and of him Weizmann wrote: in all his actions and utterances, trivial as most of them were, he went out of his way to discourage the Jews and encourage the Arabs as far as he was able to do so. When appearing before a planning committee, Hubbard said that he had never heard of the Balfour Declaration; on another occasion he said that if there were riots in Jaffa and the Arabs attacked the Jews, he would do nothing—he would stand on his balcony and watch, and would order his men to do nothing to help the Jews. Hubbard eventually lost his job in Jaffa and was moved to Hebron. Another active opponent of Zionism was Colonel Vivian Gabriel, the OETA treasurer. On one occasion, notwithstanding the stated British policy of assisting the building of a National Home in Palestine, he approached the Malta government and proposed a scheme of setting up a Maltese homeland in Palestine, asking the government to actively encourage immigration from Malta. On another occasion he proposed a land credit scheme which would allow Fellahin (Arab peasants) to obtain cheap mortgages in order to buy land, but would not be available to Jewish immigrants. As a result, Weizmann wrote: there is no doubt that the sinister activity of Colonel Gabriel in the Administration has more than anything else been the cause of misunderstanding and misconception on the part of the Administration, and has also been an important part in engineering Arab hostility.[16] Clayton and Allenby realized that Gabriel’s influence was destructive and that he was “an open enemy of Jews and Zionists” who should have left the country a long time before. However, he was a Money protégé and so it would have been difficult to dislodge him. At a Zionist commission meeting when Gabriel was out of the country, Weizmann said: “Colonel Gabriel should not be allowed to return.” He said that Gabriel only supported the interests of the Arabs and the Church, and so he sent Samuel to talk to Churchill about the matter, and he himself talked to Balfour. Gabriel did not return. However, Foreign Minister Curzon was angry and said: “This is allowing the Jews to have too much their own way. It is intolerable that Dr. Weizmann should be allowed to criticize the ‘type of men’ employed by HM Govt.”[17] Another high profile anti-Zionist was Colonel Scott, the acting senior judicial

officer in Palestine. Horace Samuel, a leading Palestine Jewish lawyer. wrote about him: Scott was a strong anti-Semite with a total inability to control within limits of elementary decency the manifestations of his emotions in this respect, that subsequently led to his downfall and disgrace. In the meanwhile he displayed with gusto the role of champion of the Arabs in general, and of Moslem Arabs in particular. The incident that led to his downfall and disgrace took place in the corridor outside his courtroom, where a crowd was making some noise. Scott stormed out of the court and shouted to those present: “why don’t you Jews make less noise? This is not a synagogue you know.” This kind of utterance by the senior judge in Palestine, gave the authorities no choice but to return him to England.[18] The “war” between the OETA and the Yishuv led to an unpleasant atmosphere in Palestine which nobody knew how to solve. The climax of this soured relationship came with the Jerusalem Riots of March 1920, which was the last straw in the unhappy two-and-a-half-year period of the OETA. The fledgling Palestinian Arab Nationalist movement started to find its feet following the arrival of the British, and it received an important shot in the arm after Feisal was installed in Damascus in 1919. At that juncture the Palestinian Arab leadership decided to support him in his struggle against the French, hoping that it would lead to him taking over as the ruler of Palestine in addition to Syria. This would have been a serious blow to Zionist aspirations. Allenby and some OETA officers favored the scheme but the Whitehall government was diametrically opposed to it. In 1919 Richard Meinertzhagen, a confirmed Zionist supporter, was appointed as chief political officer to replace Clayton. Because of this support and his opposition to the OETA attitude toward Zionism, he was highly unpopular with his colleagues. In early 1920 it was known that the San Remo conference, which would decide on the Middle East mandates and the future of Palestine, was about to take place. As a result there was a great deal of tension in the country, especially amongst the Arab community. When Josef Trumpeldor and six other defenders of the settlement at Tel Hai were murdered on March 1, the Yishuv went into mourning. It was generally believed at this time that the Arab leadership was being closely advised by the triumvirate of Chief Administrator Bols, Ronald Storrs, and the new OETA chief of staff, Bertie Waters-Taylor. On the Zionist side, Weizmann, David Eder, who had succeeded him as head of the Zionist commission, and Meinertzhagen were particularly apprehensive about the impending developments in the country, and especially about the annual Nebi Musa procession that was about to take place at Easter. This was an occasion which brought Arabs from all over the country to Jerusalem, and there was a likelihood of great excitement and possibly violent disturbances. Bols was urged to cancel the procession, but he did not believe that

there was anything to worry about. Meinertzhagen wrote in his diary: I heard from several sources that both Ronald Storrs and Waters-Taylor were in close contact with various Arab notables in Jerusalem, the most dangerous of whom was Haj Amin el-Husseini, later Mufti of Jerusalem. I had a small but efficient intelligence service, part Jew, and part Arab. I switched them on to the Mufti and soon discovered that Mrs Waters-Taylor, disguised as an Arab frequently visited Haj Amin, and that Waters-Taylor had advocated anti-Jew riots in Jerusalem to impress upon the Administration the unpopularity of the Zionist policy. Feisal was kept informed of his treacherous policy, as was Ronald Storrs. I took these reports to Allenby who was shocked, but took my information as a reflection on his military Administration, and thought that if action was taken against Storrs and Waters-Taylor it might do more harm than good. I disagreed but had to conform.[19] Those who anticipated the worst from the Nebi Musa procession were proven correct; Arab rioting went on for four days, five Jews and four Arabs were killed, and 211 Jews and thirty-three Arabs were injured. Jewish soldiers had been told that the Old City was out of bounds during this period. British and Indian troops sealed off the Old City, with many old and helpless people trapped inside the walls and at the mercy of the Arabs. It was clear that the riots were not spontaneous, but had been carefully preplanned. There were suggestions that British officers were involved in that planning, although nothing concrete was proven. Meinertzhagen claims that Waters-Taylor sent for the mayor of Jerusalem, Musa Kazem Pasha, two days after the rioting and said to him: “I gave you a fine opportunity, for five hours Jerusalem was without military protection: I had hoped you would avail yourself of the opportunity, but you have failed.” In another entry in his diary Meinertzhagen quoted Aref el-Aref, one of the two main Arab leaders of the riots, as saying: we shall not gain by violence as we are the aggressors and the public will condemn us. But fortunately the British Administration is on our side and we shall not be hurt. My advice then is to continue the assault on the Jews. Kamil elBudsiri, in his speech said: we shall deliver our country by the sword, we are glad that the massacre of the Jews took place.[20] Fahry el-Husseini, another Arab leader, said that if the government had allowed the Jews to fight many of them would have been killed, and they had to thank the police who were on their side. Of the leaders of both sides, Haj el-Amin, who although a young man was already known to the Yishuv as a dangerous agitator, immediately fled the country and took up residence in Syria. His co-organizer, Aref el Aref, was arrested, released

on bail, and then also fled the country. Both of them were sentenced to ten years in absentia. On the Yishuv side there was Ze’ev Jabotinsky who had been an Officer in the British army serving at Gallipoli. He now saw himself as the person who would organize the defense of the Yishuv. Prior to the riots he had met with Storrs and asked for permission for the Jews to defend themselves with arms. The request was turned down. His defenders armed themselves anyway, and nineteen of them were arrested by the authorities for carrying arms and sentenced to three years penal servitude. Jabotinsky himself was sentenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment, after which he was to be expelled from Palestine. This vicious sentence was a reflection of the incompetence of the military judge, Lt. Howes, and the state of justice in Palestine at the moment. After an international outcry, the sentence was almost immediately reduced to one year’s imprisonment. A court of inquiry was set up under Major-General Palin, which came to the conclusion that the Arabs had been responsible for the riots and the administration, and especially Storrs and Waters-Taylor, had been negligent and overconfident in the way that they dealt with them. In addition, the court took the opportunity to sharply attack the Zionist commission, adding that Zionism was now an extremist Bolshevik, Marxist movement and that Weizmann had lost control of the movement. The commission, it claimed, was trying to usurp the authority of OETA and wanted to expel all the Arabs from Palestine. There were those who thought that the court should have changed the word “overconfident” when describing Storrs‘ behavior to arrogant, and Eder in a letter to Weizmann wrote: “The trouble about Storrs is that he has neither the confidence of the Arabs, the Jews, or the British officials here.” In fact the court’s report was never published, as by the time it was ready for publication there was a change of government. One feels, however, that its comments were very much in accordance with the current thinking of the administration. It is interesting to note that there were three occasions when the Palestinian Arabs murderously attacked the Jewish community before 1930, and on each occasion a committee of inquiry was set up (Palin, Haycraft, and Shaw) to examine the causes. On each occasion the Arabs were found guilty of initiating the attacks and the administration was found wanting in its handling of the situation, but in each case the Jews were found guilty of provoking the Arabs in some mysterious way. The riots, the first to take place under British rule, shocked many people inside and outside of Palestine. Meinertzhagen could not restrain himself and wrote a letter to Foreign Minister Curzon in which he was highly critical of the OETA and its antiJewish bias. He accused members of the administration of being involved in the riots and of failing to quell them in time. Allenby was shocked at this blatant act of insubordination and Meinertzhagen was immediately dismissed from his post in Palestine. The letter, however, did come to Lloyd-George’s notice when he was in

San Remo and must have influenced his decision to end the OETA rule, forthwith. Another letter which arrived in London in April was sent from Bols to Allenby. It denounced the hostile, critical, and abusive attitude of the Zionists who: seek not justice from the Military Occupant, but that in every question in which a Jew is interested, discrimination in his favor must be shown. The Zionist Commission accuse me and my officers of anti-Zionism: the situation is intolerable. The Zionist is bent on committing the temporary military administration to a partialist policy before the issue of the Mandate.[21] Bols’ demand for an immediate abolition of the Zionist commission went unanswered, and probably added more flames to the fire which was about to drive out the OETA. In the summer of 1920, with the end of the military regime in sight and the prospect of a new civilian administration, there was optimism in the Zionist camp that a new day was about to dawn and that real progress would soon be made toward the creation of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine. The optimism was based on the fact that during the previous three years there had been a very positive attitude from Whitehall, which included the Balfour Declaration itself and the intention of including it in the Mandate agreement. It also included the permission to send the Zionist commission to Palestine; the refusal of Balfour and Lloyd-George to rethink the government’s pro-Zionist policy despite the demands of the OETA officials; their refusal to listen to the never ending criticism of the Zionist Commission; their support for the opening of a Hebrew University; and the appointment of a Jew to be the first High Commissioner for Palestine. There were, however, two factors which should have given the Zionist leadership some food for thought: the first was that whereas they had enjoyed a very good relationship with Whitehall so far, they had not thought about the possibility that Foreign Minister Balfour would retire after the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, to be succeeded by the anti-Zionist Curzon, nor that Lloyd George’s government would fall in 1922, to be succeeded by a Conservative government whose attitude toward Zionism was as yet unknown. Thus Weizmann and colleagues were about to lose their great and important friends in Whitehall. The second factor was the rise in Arab nationalism in Palestine. As yet the Zionists had not taken Arab nationalism seriously, nor had they anticipated to what extent its rise might influence and affect future government decisions. In summarizing this chapter, the overriding theme seems to have been the strong opposition both to Zionism and the creation of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine from the word go. The OETA officers probably thought that the Balfour Declaration was no more than an aberration by far-away politicians during a critical time in the war, and it would not be difficult to convince the government of its great miscalculation. Balfour, however, continued to stand firm and reiterated Samuel’s statement that the government’s pro-Zionist policy was a chose jugée.

The arrival of the Zionist commission was probably unfortunate because it arrived at the wrong time and the parameters of its authority were not clearly spelled out. After Weizmann’s departure the leadership passed to David Eder and Menachem Ussishkin, neither of whom had much time for the OETA. In Ussishkin’s words: the English have no business in Palestine at all. God has made a promise to the Jews, and there’s no need for the English to endorse the promise or fulfill it.[22] As the aggressive attitude of the Zionist commission was countered by the truculence of the OETA officials, the result was an unhappy stalemate. The Zionists were looking forward to the turning over of a new leaf and a fresh start, especially as they presumed that the new man, Herbert Samuel, was one of theirs, a confirmed Zionist. All in all, it was a most unfortunate prelude to the mandate which was soon to begin.

NOTES 1. Ronald Storrs, Orientations, pp. 352–54. 2. Sykes, p.13. 3. Lowenthal, Henrietta Szold, Life and Letters, p. 186. 4. Clayton to FO, PRO FO 371/3394/573-575, 18/4/18. 5. Weizmann, p. 280. 6. Money, diary entry, 9/9/18. 7. Money to General Staff, PRO FO 371/3386/260, 20/11/18. 8. Private letters in possession of Mr. J. H. Money. 9. General Watson to FO 3741/4171 CPO, 2/8/19. 10. Ziff, The Rape of Palestine, p. 86. 11. Wasserstein, The British in Palestine, p. 25. 12. Ben Zvi, The Hebrew Battalions, p. 91. 13. Sykes, pp. 55–56. 14. Wasserstein, pp. 41–42. 15. Weizmann to ZO, CZA Z4/16033, 25/3/20. 16. Zionist Commission to Julius Simons, CZA L3/289, 19/11/19. 17. Segev, One Palestine Complete, p. 95. 18. Samuel H, Unholy Memories of the Holy Land, pp. 50, 62. 19. Meinertzhagen, Middle East Diary, p. 56. 20. ibid, p. 83. 21. Bols to GHQ Cairo, ISA 2/38/5a, 21/4/20. 22. John and Hadawi, The Palestine Diary 1914-1949, p. 153.

Chapter 3

The New Samuel Broom Sweeps Clean! When seeking the appropriate words to describe Herbert Samuel, those which immediately come to mind are: Englishman, politician, Liberal, liberal and—some way behind—Jew. But to be fair to him he never denied or hid his Judaism. His wife was Jewish, and he was a fringe member of the orthodox Jewish community. However, the idea of adding the word “Zionist” to this list would be difficult to sustain. Samuel’s detractors usually point out that he was never a paid member of any Zionist organization, although this does not preclude him from being an interested and supportive spectator. He met Weizmann for the first time in December 1914 while he was still a cabinet minister (the first Jew to be a member of the British Cabinet if one excludes Disraeli), and the two men got on well from the outset. Whereas Weizmann eagerly seized upon the chance to meet the most important English Jew of his time, it also suited Samuel’s interests to establish contact with the Zionist movement. Together with the Zionists, from the moment that war was declared, he latched onto the idea of a British presence in Palestine. In March 1915 he circulated a memorandum to cabinet colleagues, but was careful not to show that he had any personal interest in it, or any particular leaning toward Zionism. Prior to the memorandum, he wrote to the Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey, a firm Zionist supporter, as follows: if a Jewish state were established in Palestine, it might become the centre of a new culture. The Jewish brain is rather a remarkable thing and under national auspices the state might become a fountain of enlightenment and a source of great literature and art and development of science.[1] In May 1915 Samuel left the cabinet after a reshuffle and in 1916 he decided not to serve under the new prime minister, Lloyd-George, and joined the opposition. Whereas Weizmann had hoped that Zionism might have benefited from Samuel’s presence in the British government, this was not to be the case, and he played no part in the negotiations leading up to the Balfour Declaration. His feelings about a British/Zionist Palestine had not changed since he submitted his memorandum three years earlier, and in 1917 he wrote: the best safeguard would be the establishment of a large Jewish population, preferably under British protection. I feel no doubt that the policy expressed in the declaration is that which is desired by the mass of the Jewish people both in this country and throughout the world. If the policy were carried into effect through British influence, it would be calculated to win for the British Empire, the gratitude of Jews throughout the world, and wherever the interests of the country of which they are citizens were not involved, to create among them a bias favorable to the Empire.[2]

Samuel evidently saw the value of the Balfour Declaration as being a way in which British Jewry could show its gratitude to the British Empire and not much else. And yet on November 9, 1917, the day on which the declaration was officially published, he addressed a very large celebratory crowd at the London Opera House. The Jewish Chronicle, reporting the event, wrote: “those who have heard him on other occasions were astonished by the warmth and energy, and the eloquence and fire which he put into his speech.” He began his speech by reminding the packed, excited audience that the Zionists would face difficulties and new responsibilities in the next phase of their journey. He finished as a highly charged visionary and defined the true meaning of the declaration as follows: I see in my mind’s eye those millions in eastern Europe, all through the centuries, crowded, cramped, proscribed, bent with oppression, suffering the miseries of active minds, denied scope of talent, not allowed to speak of genius that cannot act. I see them as enduring, suffering everything in order to keep alight the flame of which they knew themselves to be the lamp, to keep alive the idea of which they knew themselves to be the body: their eyes always set upon one distant point, always believing that somehow, some day, the ancient greatness would be restored, always saying when they met their families: “Next year in Jerusalem.” I can see growing a new confidence and a new greatness. There will be a fresh light in the eyes, those bent backs will at last stand erect, and there will be greater dignity for the Jew throughout the world (cheers). That is why we meet today to thank the British Government, (cheers) that has made all this possible, that we shall be able to say, not as a pious and distant wish but as a near and confident hope, Next year in Jerusalem (loud and prolonged cheers). For good measure the final four words were in Hebrew.[3] Samuel, not a person to indulge in self-praise, wrote to his son Edwin who was serving as a junior officer in Palestine under Allenby: “an inspiring meeting to speak to, and they say that I made the best speech of my life, which however is not much praise of it.” It was this speech more than anything else which led people to believe that Samuel was a committed supporter of Zionism. In 1918 Samuel unexpectedly lost his parliamentary seat in his Cleveland constituency, and so his parliamentary career was over for the time being. He was out of work. Within a short time there was talk of him being appointed as High Commissioner for Palestine, and he wrote to his son, saying that although he had as yet not received any formal offer, if it happened he would consider it quite seriously. In another letter he wrote that there was a possibility—though not yet a probability— that his destiny might be cast, for some years at least, in Palestine: “The more I reflect over Palestine affairs, the nobler seems to me the task of helping to lay the foundation of the future commonwealth.” It is not clear if his use of the word “commonwealth” referred to a British or

Zionist commonwealth, but there is no reason to believe that his primary motive was anything other than promoting British interests. However, in the two years before July 1, 1920, when he became the high commissioner for Palestine, he became more and more involved in Zionist affairs and in the future of Palestine. In October 1918, after Weizmann returned from his stint on the Zionist commission, he invited the Samuels to dinner where the two men got to know each other better and more personally. Following the dinner, Samuel wrote: I never see Weizmann without being more and more impressed by his breadth of view and sound judgment, and by a rare combination, his union of those qualities with a passionate fervor and enthusiasm. The Zionist cause is wonderfully fortunate in having such a leader.[4] Weizmann managed to persuade Samuel to chair an advisory committee on Palestine that he had set up, whose first task was to prepare the Zionist proposals which were to be put before the Paris Peace Conference. Samuel, with his great experience in high politics, was admirably suited for this, and a Samuel-Weizmann paper was produced and circulated in top Zionist circles. Eventually in early 1919 the two men went to Paris to reinforce the Zionist delegation. On his return to England, he continued his chairmanship of the committee and in a long correspondence with the Foreign Office in May 1919 he pointed out the discrepancy between the policy of the Palestine administration and that of the British government, in that the former had not acknowledged the Balfour Declaration oneand-a-half years after it had been made, so that when dealing with the Arab community it did not accept that it was stated government policy. In a subsequent letter he suggested that the Foreign Office point out to the administration that the declaration was a chose jugée, which had the full support of the French and American governments, and it would be included in its entirety in the future mandate agreement. He went on to point a finger at certain administration officials who were particularly antagonistic to Zionism, the chief of whom was Ronald Storrs. It is interesting to note that for the first time Samuel was openly critical of the government and the administration. The year 1919 was when he made his greatest efforts on behalf of Zionism. In early 1920 Samuel visited Palestine, ostensibly to carry out a financial report for the government, but in reality, as everyone there knew, to check out the lay of the land ahead of his appointment as high commissioner. He himself had doubts about his appointment and wrote to his son that: it would be inadvisable for any Jew to be made the first Governor. It would render more difficult I am inclined to think, and not more easily, the fulfillment of the Zionist programme. Arab Nationalist and anti-Zionist feeling is a real thing, and although it is probable that it will die down perhaps in a comparatively short

time, it is strong enough for the time being to cause much embarrassment. With a Jew as Governor many measures would be viewed with suspicion and would provoke antagonism which would be accepted without much question at the hands of a non-Jewish Governor.[5] There was widespread condemnation of the appointment among the officers of the outgoing OETA administration. Allenby said that he feared the appointment of any Jew as the first governor would be the signal for widespread disturbances, murders, attacks on Jews and on the Jewish colonies, and for Arab raids across the border.[6] Bols was so incensed by the appointment that he wanted to travel to London immediately to personally protest against it. He wrote: by British Government the people of the country understand a non-Jewish government, because they think that a British Jew is a Jew first and a Britisher afterward. I fear that British Christian officers will not be found to take service under a Jewish Governor.[7] A leading Arab militant leader said: woe to us either way: even if he be a British official, he is still a great Zionist and will be glad to see us ruined. We must do our utmost and see him deported from the country.[8] Despite the opposition, Samuel had Lloyd-George, Balfour, and Curzon on his side. Eventually, after giving the matter a lot of thought and consulting with people close to him, and particularly with Weizmann, he decided to take the job, believing that in view of his wide political experience, he would not have any real problem in making a success of it. Against this it should be mentioned that Samuel had no experience at all in colonial affairs and knew nothing about Arabs. It was during his 1920 visit that Samuel came to two conclusions which would greatly influence his appraisal of the future situation in Palestine, and which the Zionists did not seem to have taken seriously. At a meeting in Palestine with the Zionist commission, he criticized the Zionists for ignoring the large Arab majority in Palestine and for making very little effort to consider or accommodate it; he saw this as a major obstacle to Zionist ambitions. Secondly, he pointed out that as long as this situation was unresolved, there could be no rapid advancement toward the establishment of a Jewish Homeland in the short term. In his opinion the process would take a long time and he completely disagreed with those Zionists who believed that the fulfillment of the Zionist dream was just round the corner.

Herbert Samuel, first British high commissioner for Palestine.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem Samuel arrived at the port of Jaffa on July 1, 1920 to a fanfare of trumpets and great razzmatazz. Because of security fears it was decided that he should be driven part of the way to Jerusalem in the armored car which had been put at his disposal, and complete the final stretch by train. At Jerusalem station he was met by all the Palestine dignitaries who were eagerly awaiting the new ruler of Palestine, and later Bols handed to him, as head of the new civilian government, the keys of “One Palestine Complete.” Samuel as an amusing addendum to this wrote; (E and OE, ie. notwithstanding any errors and omissions included) Having had to put up with the OETA for two-and-a-half difficult and frustrating years, the Yishuv was eagerly looking forward to seeing the backs of the many antiZionist officers, and presumed that they would be replaced by new, more sympathetic personnel. Samuel stated that for the sake of maintaining some continuity with the outgoing regime, his new broom would not sweep out everyone who had served in the OETA. As he was really the “new boy” in the area he was ready and willing to take advice as to the composition of his new team. On his visit to Palestine in March 1920 he had been impressed by Waters-Taylor and had earmarked him as a possible Chief Secretary in the new government.

However, he became aware of the latter’s earlier unauthorized approaches to Feisal, and the generally held belief that he had actively been involved in the 1920 Arab Riots in Jerusalem. This had made him a persona non grata in the eyes of the Zionist leadership. In addition, Waters-Taylor had proposed a permanent military government in Palestine, had opposed Samuel’s appointment, and had joined with Bols and Congreve, yet another staunchly anti-Zionist general, in recommending that the San Remo agreement should be overturned. Weizmann recommended that he should approach Wyndham-Deedes, a great supporter of Zionism who had served previously in the OETA. Deedes was initially reluctant to take the job, as his lifetime dream was to be a social worker in one of the poor areas of London, but he allowed himself to be persuaded to take on the job for two years only, mainly because he wanted to be able to help the progress toward a Jewish Homeland, which he believed in passionately. The Zionist side was delighted with his appointment. In the interim period until Deedes was available, Samuel asked Storrs to be acting Chief Secretary. This was much less to the liking of the Zionists, who had always seen him as a definite opponent behind the scenes, an opponent who was smart enough to make sure that he could never be blamed or accused of antiZionism. On the other hand, Storrs was vastly experienced in Anglo–Arab relations, and was on good terms with Samuel, even to the extent of advising him that the high commissioner should put in for a baronetcy, which would be more fitting to his new status. In total, Storrs served in Palestine for more than eight years. In the second part of his career as part of the civilian administration he had less opportunity to do Zionism a major disservice. One of the Jewish officers who had served in the OETA as senior judicial officer was Norman Bentwich. He was retained as legal secretary, and later attorneygeneral, in Samuel’s administration, much to the chagrin of the Arab leadership. In fact, he served in two further administrations, surviving many scurrilous attacks by the Arab press and even an assassination attempt. Whereas Samuel, Deedes, and Bentwich were supporters of Zionism in different ways, they were scrupulously even-handed, never giving any indication of being biased in its favor. Samuel wrote that he was willing, even anxious to cooperate with the Zionists, but he would not be their stooge. He considered that he was there “to administer the country, not for the benefit of one section of the population only, but for all: not commissioned by the Zionists but in the name of the King.”[9] In all probability the Yishuv would have been very happy for Samuel to be its “stooge,” and many Zionist writers showed their disappointment and criticism of him when it didn’t happen. However, the initial shape of the top of his administration must have made the Yishuv feel comfortable for the first time since the British had come to Palestine, and even optimistic about its future under British rule. From the beginning Samuel set out to improve relations between the Yishuv and his administration, in part to compensate it for its disappointments during the OETA era. This period has often been referred to as Samuel’s “honeymoon period.”

He looked again at some of the demands and requests made by the Zionist commission that had been invariably turned down by the OETA. Hebrew was now accepted as an official language, and would thereafter appear on bank notes and coins; the land registry which had been closed since the Turks left was reopened, and with the passing of a Transfer of Land Ordinance the Jews were able to purchase land. As a result, the Jewish National Fund (J.N.F.), which was the major purchaser of land for the use of Palestine Jews, paid the Sursuk family of Beirut £700,000 (half of its annual budget) to purchase an extensive area known today as Emek Yizrael, which became an important area for Jewish settlement. Whereas Jewish immigration had been stopped during the war and severely limited during the OETA period, Samuel’s administration passed an Immigration Ordinance in September 1920 which reopened the gates to accommodate an anticipated great flood of Jews wanting to enter the country. Weizmann had previously told Samuel that in his estimation five million Jews would be coming to Palestine in the next few years. The job of selecting the applicants and supervising the process was given to the Zionist Organization (ZO), which would also support the new immigrants financially upon arrival. In 1919 the number of immigrants had been 1,806; in 1920 it was 8,223, and in 1921, 2904. On the basis of Weizmann’s estimate and because the ZO was going to bear the brunt of the cost, Samuel suggested that a ceiling figure of 16,500 families’ visas should be agreed upon, although initially the ZO was slightly apprehensive at the implications of having to manage such a figure . As a result of his conviction following the March 1920 riots, Jabotinsky had become a hero for the Yishuv. One of Samuel’s first decisions was to pardon him and the other Jews who had been convicted, and this was received with absolute joy. Sometime later he was approached by Arab leaders who requested clemency for Haj Amin el-Husseini and Aref el-Aref, who were still in exile in Syria, and he had no option but to pardon them as well. They both went on to a life of political extremism and were thorns in the sides of the British and the Jews for many years to come. Another popular measure was Samuel’s move to reverse the decision made by Bols in May 1920 disallowing a constituent assembly for the Yishuv. As a result the Yishuv for the first time was given a measure of responsibility to manage its own affairs. Because of Samuel’s conscious effort to please them, the Zionist leadership began to feel reassured. Its two leaders, Eder and Ussishkin, who had been the sharpest critics of the British administration, began to change their tunes and appeared ready to give the new administration a chance. The reaction from Whitehall was also complimentary. Curzon wrote to congratulate him on: the wise and tactful manner in which you have started your administration which entirely justifies your decision to go, and falsifies the forebodings of Allenby and others.[10]

Lord Milner, the Colonial Secretary, wrote: “it is no flattery to say you have made a wonderful start.”[11] Samuel, however, was well aware that he had to show the Arab community that he also had its interests at heart. In a letter to Storrs at the time when he was acting chief secretary, he wrote: you know my policy with regard to the non-Jewish population—not only to treat them with absolute justice and every consideration for their interests in matters relating to the establishment of the Jewish National Home, but also to adopt active measures to promote their well being.[12] Samuel himself was convinced that representative government would be the best way of building bridges with the Arab community. He had already invited Arab representatives to serve on his Advisory Committee that he had set up to help him run the country. The composition of the committee was to consist of eleven administration officials and ten non-officials nominated by him, of which seven would be Arabs—four Moslem and three Christian—and three Jewish. The Secretary of State for India, Edwin Montagu, Samuel’s cousin, who had so strongly opposed the Balfour Declaration three years previously at cabinet level, wrote to the Foreign Minister about the underrepresentation of Moslems in the council. He said that it was a monstrous and flagrant violation of the principles to which he understood that H.M. government was committed—that the government of Palestine should be composed of the various races therein living, in proportion to their numbers. At the first council meeting in October, Samuel said that this was the first attempt at setting up self-governing institutions, but he intended that there should be many more in due course. It has to be said that although the Arab representatives were not particularly interested in this initiative, they dutifully attended the sessions, although evidently their eyes were firmly fixed on more spectacular achievements. Another attempt aimed at winning Arab approval came about in connection with a large area of land south of Lake Kinneret, the Beisan Valley. This area of four hundred thousand dunams (one hundred thousand acres) had come into State ownership and the administration offered it to several large Arab landowners, who turned down the offer, as they were afraid of doing business with the government “because of its power and influence.” Samuel then decided to sell it in small plots to the tenant farmers in situ. This was an unprecedented step, as under Ottoman law such tenants had no legal right to acquire land. When questioned as to how he had come to this decision, Samuel revealed that on a visit to the area he had seen the “hostile and sullen look of the occupants” and concluded that they had a “moral right” to the land. The plots were sold at a price seven times lower than their market value, with payments spread over fifteen years. [13]

Article 6 of the mandate agreement states that “the Palestine Administration has

an obligation to encourage ‘close settlement of Jews on the land’ and to make available for this settlement any public land which is not being used by the State.” Although the agreement had not yet come into operation de jure, the Zionist side was angry that the land had not been allotted to the Jews. Much of the anger was directed at Bentwich, who had been responsible for the legal side of the deal. As Naomi Shepherd writes:[14] “he was never forgiven by the Zionist right wing for his role in the affair.” The Yishuv was becoming increasingly aware that the word “fairness” was the word that dominated many of Samuel‘s decisions. It was evidently not realized how much he was a liberal at heart. However, the Zionists believed that by bending over backwards to please the Arabs, Samuel was damaging their hopes and expectations. The irony of the Beisan agreement was that, whereas the land had been sold to the Arabs at knockdown prices “in order to provide them with a holding sufficient to maintain a decent standard of life,” many of the purchasers did not live there, but preferred to engage in land speculation and sold their holdings to Jews at greatly inflated prices. By the autumn of 1920 Samuel probably thought that he had already created a good working relationship with both communities. However, as far as the Arabs were concerned this was not the case. They were well aware that the administration had sanctioned an enormous number of Jewish immigrants, and after the French had removed Feisal from Damascus in July 1920, the idea of a united Syria/Palestine under his reign was no longer viable. The emerging Arab nationalist movement was now being led by Musa Kazem elHusseini, the ex-mayor of Jerusalem, who had been dismissed by Storrs after the 1920 Riots. After Feisal had been ejected by the French, Husseini said that now that Damascus had lost its role as the focal point of the nationalist movement, the new center would be in Palestine. Whether Samuel realized the importance of these words or not, they were a statement of the future Arab intentions in the country. In December 1920 the third Palestine Arab Congress was held in Haifa, and Moslem and Christian Arabs agreed to work together. They were united in condemning Zionism. An Arab Executive (AE) was elected under Husseini that claimed to represent the whole of Palestinian Arabs. Samuel and Deedes did not see the executive as a great threat and challenged this claim. However, when the executive began to look for ways of actively opposing the future British mandate, Samuel met Husseini and had other informal meetings with the executive. At the first meeting in January 1921 he reminded the executive that whereas the first part of the Balfour Declaration established Britain’s support for a Jewish Homeland, the second part safeguarded the rights and interests of the existing population, and that it was his intention to carry out the second part no less than the first. At the second meeting in February, he warned the executive against getting involved in any acts of public disorder, and pointed out that he could not recognize the executive if it was completely opposed to the mandate, as this was the reason why

he had been sent to Palestine. The leadership of the Yishuv watched the growth of Arab nationalism with some misgivings, especially as it was not clear whether the administration was aware of the potential danger. The “honeymoon” was now over, and Berl Katznelson, a leading Zionist personality in the Yishuv, said in November 1920: the good effects of Samuel’s appointment have already worn off and despite the new era, the Jews are still living in a country on the edge of a volcano. True it is in a quiet state at the moment, but the political intrigue around us will not sleep nor slumber.[15] The description of the country being on the edge of a sleeping volcano was exaggerated, but Zionism had enjoyed a good three years since the Balfour Declaration, and felt that the British government and the administration were more or less on its side. This was to change in 1921, the year that marked a watershed in Zionist fortunes. In January the responsibility for running the British mandates passed from Foreign Minister Lord Curzon, to Colonial Secretary Winston Churchill. Curzon was no supporter of Zionism, but his behavior had always been impeccable in his insistence that the British government would honor its commitment to the creation of a Jewish Homeland. Churchill was an unknown quantity. Personally, he had many well established Jewish connections, but had not played any part in the proceedings leading up to the Balfour Declaration. In early 1921 he visited the Middle East in order to sort out the conflicting claims of the Arab leaders and the French in the area, and invited all interested parties to attend a conference in Cairo. Being new to the job and as his visit was brief, he decided not to involve himself in the current Palestine political situation.

Samuel with Winston Churchill and Abdullah.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem After the conference Samuel invited him to rest and do some painting in Jerusalem, and he reluctantly agreed to meet delegations from the Arab and Jewish communities, who would no doubt present him with their memoranda, containing their wishes or demands, and would also no doubt expect to hear about current British government thinking on the question of Palestine. The Arabs came, led by their veteran leader Musa Kazem Husseini, who in his address to Churchill said: Palestine belongs to the Arabs and the Balfour Declaration is a gross injustice. The Jew is clannish and un-neighborly, he cannot mix with those who live about him. He will enjoy the privileges and benefits of a country, but will give nothing in return. The Jew is a Jew all the world over. He amasses the wealth of a country and then leads its people, whom he has already impoverished where he chooses. He encourages wars where self-interest dictates, and thus uses the armies of the nations to do his bidding[16] . He then proceeded to demand: 1. 2.

The principle of a national home for the Jews should be abolished National government should be created which shall be responsible to a parliament elected by the Palestinian people who lived in Palestine before the war 3. A stop must be put to Jewish immigration until such time as a national government be formed 4. Laws and regulations before the war should be still carried out and all others

framed after the British occupation be annulled, and no new laws be created until a national government comes into being 5. Palestine should not be separated from her sister States (Syria and Egypt) Churchill in reply said: you have asked me in the first place to repudiate the Balfour Declaration and to veto immigration of Jews into Palestine. It is not in my power to do so nor, if it were in my power would it be my wish. The British Government have passed their word by the mouth of Mr. Balfour that they will view with favor the establishment of a National Home for the Jews in Palestine, and that inevitably involves the immigration of Jews into the country[17] . This was a clear rejection of the Arab delegation’s request and Churchill ended the meeting by urging them to give up their quarrels and negative attitude and to join together in cooperation with the Jews to enjoy the benefits of the country. The Jewish delegation, which followed, expressed its gratitude to the British government and assured it that they were well aware of the Arabs’ desire for a national revival, which they wouldn’t hamper in any way. On the contrary, the Jewish renaissance in Palestine would be a positive factor for the Arab nation. Churchill, while appreciating what the Zionists had to say, reminded them that the Arabs were fearful of losing their lands and of being dispossessed, and in addition were worried that there were many Bolsheviks among the present immigrants who would introduce unacceptable doctrines into the country. The colonial secretary reminded them that the cost of maintaining a garrison in Palestine was very high, and as its presence was also to protect the Yishuv, the Jews should raise substantial amounts of money from their brethren around the world to defray this cost. Churchill, in general, was extremely parsimonious with regard to the cost of the British presence in Palestine, and in this he was supported by Whitehall governments and civil service officials over the years. They generally urged administration officials to strive to make Palestine self-supporting. British government loans, gifts, and investment in the country should be kept to a minimum. Commenting on Churchill’s meeting with the Arab delegation, Christopher Sykes was of the opinion that the Arabs had “played their cards with the greatest ineptitude” and had generally overplayed their hand.[18] It was inconceivable that a government minister would have taken much notice of demands which encouraged him to be disloyal to established government policy. The mandate was evidently still on course. In 1920 the Jewish workers’ organization, the Histadrut was founded, and at its first congress it decided to take over the responsibility for the defense of the Yishuv and to create a defense force, the Haganah. This force was the beginning of an underground army, and was illegal in the eyes of the British authorities. The fact that

the Yishuv felt at that moment that it needed such a military force was a clear indication that it had serious doubts about the protection it could expect from the administration. There had already been one small “pogrom” and it wanted to be ready for the next one. Two factors which led to the general anxiety were the fact that Samuel was increasingly conciliatory toward the Arab leadership and that it was abundantly clear that the Samuel broom had not swept away enough anti-Zionist/anti-Semitic officers left over from the OETA. In the words of historian Neil Caplan: the lower ranks of the Administration were staffed by enemies of the Jewish National Home policy, especially officers of the previous military regime who should have been removed in 1920. And on another occasion he wrote: the Yishuv disappointment with the Administration was often accompanied by a lingering and primitive suspicion of British intentions, and some local leaders found no reason to cease their public and private accusations against the hostile or conspiratorial attitude of British officers.[19] Of the high ranking officers in the administration, the strongest and most active opponent of Zionism was Ernest Richmond. We already have a list of individuals within British government ranks who did their damndest to torpedo the Zionist ship at every possible opportunity, Richmond certainly belongs to the group. Richmond, an architect by profession, was found a job in Palestine by Storrs in 1918; the two of them had previously been flatmates in Cairo. As he was known to be an expert on Moslem antiquities and institutions, he was given the job of supervising the restoration of the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. In October 1920 Storrs persuaded Samuel to take Richmond on in the capacity of assistant civil secretary, an assistant to Deedes. It is interesting to note that when Samuel hired him, he didn’t detect his virulent anti-Semitism and his deeply held resentment that Palestine had a Jewish High Commissioner. Somehow Richmond built himself a reputation of being “the expert” in Arab affairs within the administration, and Samuel began to consult him on all political decisions regarding the Arabs. As his attitude was far from even-handed, the Yishuv saw him as a strong opponent while the emerging Arab nationalist movement, which was beginning to be a force in 1920/1921, started to think of him as “our man” in the administration. While Samuel was well aware that Richmond was building a role for himself as protector of the Palestinian Arabs, due to the fact that there were no Palestinian Arabs within his administration, but there were officers with distinct pro-Zionist leanings, he saw it as only fair in his liberal eyes that he should correct the balance.

Richmond’s first intervention in British Arab affairs, which was directly against the wishes of the Yishuv, came at the time when Samuel had to appoint a new Mufti of Jerusalem in 1921. Although this was basically a religious appointment, the position carried a great deal of power and influence within the Moslem Arab community. In March 1921 Kemel el-Husseini, the Mufti of Jerusalem, died. There were four candidates, including Haj Amin, his half-brother, who hoped to succeed him. Haj Amin had been pardoned for his part in the 1920 Riots, but even so the Zionist leadership recognized him as a potentially dangerous enemy, and he was still on the Palestine police black list as a known agitator. The tradition in Palestine Arab politics was that the two top jobs, the Mufti and mayor of Jerusalem, should be shared by the two leading families, the Husseinis and the Nashashibis. At that moment a Nashashibi was the mayor, and so a Husseini was considered to be the rightful person to have the Mufti job, which could have meant Haj Amin. The final decision regarding the appointment would be made by Samuel. He insisted that proper elections should be held. Of the four candidates who stood in the elections, Haj Amin, who was young, inexperienced, and hardly religious, came in a bad fourth. Richmond then told Samuel that the elections had not been carried out correctly and should be declared invalid. Deedes and Bentwich, who opposed the candidacy of Haj Amin, disagreed with him and called for a report. Having read the report, their recommendation was that the election result should stand, whereupon Richmond said that any decision made by the legal secretary (Bentwich) would not be acceptable to the Arab community. There was evidently some bad feeling and nasty politicking going on in Government House. Irrespective of the election result, the High Commissioner had the right to appoint any one of the top three candidates, but Haj Amin was number four. Thereupon the Husseini camp swung into action and managed to persuade one of the three to resign from the race, leaving the way open for Samuel to appoint Haj Amin. In the meantime, May 1 saw the outbreak of serious rioting in Jaffa which spread to other areas of the country. The riots broke out following a row between two Jewish left wing groups (Communists versus Socialists) during a May Day parade, which led to physical violence. Some Arab gangs in the area believed that the violence was about to be directed against them, and immediately took to arms. It would appear that their reaction was spontaneous. There was no evidence of premeditated planning as there had been in Jerusalem a year earlier. The first massacre of Jews took place in an immigrant hostel. One theory is that this hostel was chosen to demonstrate to what degree the Arabs opposed Jewish immigration. Other theories are that the Arabs were worried because there was a rumor that the immigrants were known to be Communists, if not Marxists, and in addition the Arabs were scandalized by the way the young Russian newcomers dressed (the women wore shorts) and by their promiscuous behavior. In the time that it took for the police to arrive the Arab thugs murdered, raped, and looted wherever

they could, and in some instances the Arab police joined in. By the end of the first day, twenty-seven Jews and three Arabs were dead, and one hundred and four Jews and thirty-four Arabs wounded. The riots lasted until May 7 and spread to other parts of Palestine—Ramleh, Hadera, Kfar Saba, and Petach Tikva. These secondary outbursts were definitely not spontaneous. From the second day the Haganah joined the battle and showed that it was already a trained and serious force. In addition, Jewish soldiers serving in the Jewish Battalions stationed in Tsrifin were called to join in the defense of the Jews. The final casualty list was forty-seven Jews killed and one hundred and forty-six wounded, and forty-eight Arabs killed and seventy-three injured. Samuel was devastated by the outbreak of the riots, which had been a heavy blow to his policy of creating a community in which Arabs and Jews would live happily and peacefully together. The question should have been asked as to what extent he was aware of what was going on in Palestine. Neither he nor his team were able to recognize the pent up feelings of rage that had been building within the Arab community. Up until April 30 he evidently believed he was doing a good job and his policies were working. At this juncture Samuel had been in Palestine for less than a year. His inexperience and lack of knowledge of the Middle East and of the Arabs in particular was evident. Of the seven Palestine High Commissioners during the mandate period, Samuel was the only one who didn’t have a past military or colonial career. He was thus very much in the hands of his advisers, who had been there much longer and understood the mentality of the two communities. As a matter of policy Samuel now had to make the decision as to whether he was going to offer the Arabs a whip or a carrot. The decision to choose the carrot was to have far reaching repercussions on the relationships inside the Palestine triangle—the British, the Jews, and the Arabs—throughout the entire mandate period. The High Commissioner’s first need was to stop the violence. He sent Deedes and Bentwich down from Jerusalem to organize the defenses, and thereafter immediately imposed martial law and censorship of the press. He then called for British troops to be sent up from Egypt, and it was they who quelled the riots on May 7. When Musa Kazem of the Arab Executive came to him on the third day of the riots, he convinced Samuel that Jewish immigration alone was to blame for the outbreak of violence. Samuel accepted this claim and immediately put a stop to immigration. He ordered the ZO to cease its activities involving the bringing of immigrants from Europe, and even turned away three boatloads of immigrants who were at sea, about to land in Palestine. In addition, in order to show the Arabs that his intentions were serious, he authorized the governor of Ramleh to announce to a large gathering of twenty-five thousand pilgrims that Jewish immigration had been suspended. This was a major public relations exercise in British–Arab relations, which would hopefully keep the Arabs sweet.

The Zionist reaction to his decision to stop immigration, even temporarily, was predictably enraged. The goodwill that Samuel had managed to build up in the Yishuv since his arrival rapidly dissolved overnight. Deedes himself strongly supported the Zionist position, and said that “surrender to Arab coercion would knock the bottom out of the Jewish National Home.” For the Zionists there were two important issues: first, having lived with the Arabs and understanding their mentality, they believed that the “carrot” approach was the wrong option. They knew full well that the Arabs had been ruled for four hundred years within the Ottoman Empire with authority and strength. This is what the Arabs understood and expected from their rulers. As far as they were concerned Samuel was going down the wrong path. Second, there could not be a Jewish Home in Palestine without substantial Jewish immigration. This was the main plank of the whole platform, so that by removing this plank Samuel was weakening if not destroying the whole structure. Following a meeting between Eder and Samuel, the former quoted the High Commissioner, who said: coercion cannot be applied to this country, otherwise we will have a second Ireland. And even if I were disposed to do it, which I am not, neither the Government at home, nor public opinion, nor the League of Nations would tolerate such a policy. It has to be admitted that there is a sharp division of feeling between the Arabs and the Jews. Therefore the Zionist policy cannot be driven through[20] . With these words Samuel seemed to be shutting the door to progress toward the Jewish Homeland. He was against forcing the Arabs in any way. In response the Zionist commission and Va’ad Leumi (Jewish National Council) threatened to resign. Other voices suggested that Britain should give up the mandate and the Jews would go it alone against the Arabs. On the practical side there were those who talked of organizing illegal immigration. Weapons were already being smuggled into Palestine. But in reality the Zionist leadership had few cards to play. It still completely depended on British backing and protection. It had no option other than waging a political battle against Samuel and Whitehall. On May 8, the day after the end of the riots, Samuel decided to take Richmond’s and Storrs’ rather than Deedes’ and Bentwich’s advice, and appointed Haj Amin as Mufti of Jerusalem. The timing of the controversial announcement seems curious, but possibly he was desperate to inject some stability into a highly volatile situation. Haj Amin’s most important patron was Storrs, who knew him and Jerusalem politics very well. It was he who took Haj Amin to meet Samuel, and explained to the High Commissioner that it would be more politically correct to appoint a Husseini at that juncture. Storrs was also at the interview, and heard Haj Amin give the High Commissioner a solemn undertaking that if appointed, he would ensure that there would not be any further outbreak of violence in Jerusalem. As the Jerusalem Arabs

had not taken part in the 1921 pogrom, this may well have affected Samuel’s decision. It could be asked why the British High Commissioner allowed himself to get involved in the irregular and dubious maneuvers which Storrs and Richmond had cooked up. His critics pointed to the appointment as an indication of his indecisiveness and weakness. Haj Amin never received an official letter of appointment, nor was the appointment gazetted. Samuel’s biographer Bernard Wasserstein called Samuel’s decision “a profound error in personal and political judgement.” Tom Segev, however, believed that his decision was entirely reasonable. It was the Husseini’s turn to appoint the Mufti from within their ranks. Haj Amin’s father, grandfather, and elder brother had held the position of Mufti very successfully in the past, and as a result of the help that his late brother had given the authorities, his widow and five children had been awarded a “political pension” ten times higher than they had been entitled to by law. In addition, Haj Amin had run a very impressive political campaign on his own behalf in order to get the position.[21] The greatest criticism of Haj Amin centered on his later activities. He remained the commander and father figure of Arab extremism for many years and became a dangerous opponent of Britain and the Jews from 1929 until his death in 1972. Although Samuel cannot be held responsible for these later activities, even in the years up to the end of his term of office he saw Haj Amin rise to great power within the Moslem community—which was a direct challenge to the administration—but at no time was any attempt made to curb that power. Fred Kisch, who succeeded Eder as head of the Zionist commission (which changed its name to the Palestine Zionist Executive [PZE] in 1921), had the following to say about the Mufti: I have no doubt whatsoever that had it not been for the Mufti’s abuse of his immense powers and the toleration of that abuse by the government over a period of 15 years, an Arab-Jewish understanding within the framework of the Mandate would long since have been reached.[22] Having taken the necessary steps to stop the violence in the short term, Samuel, in conjunction with his political bosses in Whitehall and in particular Churchill, then had to find a long term solution to prevent any further occurrences. This would mean a statement of policy that would allay the current Arab displeasure and fear caused by Zionism and Jewish immigration. He therefore took the opportunity to make an important political statement in a speech at the annual celebration of King George V’s birthday at the beginning of June. He began by saying that there was a complete misunderstanding in some people’s minds as regards the meaning of the words “the establishment in Palestine of a National Home for the Jewish people.” He had heard it said that there would be strenuous Arab opposition to the idea of a Jewish government being set up to rule the Moslem and Christian majority. He went on to

say: people say that they cannot understand how it is that the British Government, which is famous throughout the world for its justice, could ever have consented to such a policy. I answer that the British Government which does indeed care about justice above all things, has never consented and will never consent to such a policy. That is not the meaning of the Balfour Declaration. It may be that the translation of the English words into Arabic does not convey their real sense. They mean that the Jews, a people that are scattered throughout the world but whose hearts are always turned to Palestine should be enabled to found here their home, and that some among them, within the limits that are fixed by numbers and interests of the present population, should come to Palestine in order to help by their resources and efforts to develop the country, to the advantage of all the inhabitants. For the British Government, the trustee under the Mandate for the happiness of the people of Palestine, would never impose upon them a policy which the people had reason to think was contrary to their religion, their political and their religious interests[23] . Whereas Samuel had lifted the temporary ban on immigration, he had now made immigration subject to the interests and approval of the Arab population, which was a big departure from the original policy of the British government. In addition, Samuel promised to suppress “pernicious doctrines of Bolshevism” which the Arabs feared were being liberally imported into Palestine. He reminded his audience that a Commission of Enquiry into the causes of the riots had been set up under Chief Justice Sir Thomas Haycraft, and he was awaiting its findings. It was also his intention to set up representative government in Palestine in the near future. The whole of his speech was little more than a sop to the Arabs and consequently the reaction of the Zionist and Yishuv institutions was predictably harsh. Both Weizmann and Lloyd-George in private described Samuel as being very weak. Arthur Ruppin, an important Yishuv leader, said: “Herbert Samuel, who was some kind of a God to the Jews only yesterday, has become a traitor to the Jewish cause in their eyes.” David Eder, head of the Zionist commission, said: Zionism has gone through the gravest crisis in our movement since the declaration of war in 1914. As I sat and listened to Samuel’s address of June 3rd the word “Judas” came to my lips, and I nearly got up and walked out in the middle of the speech.[24] Up till that moment the Zionists had believed that the British government was committed to setting up a Jewish Homeland in Palestine, but for the first time it was becoming clear that progress toward that goal would be conditional on Arab agreement. From the mouth of the government’s representative, the high

commissioner, there was an admission that placating the Arabs was paramount in government thinking. Eder’s first reaction was to resign and urge the Zionist commission to be withdrawn from Palestine. Weizmann started to look around for a replacement for Samuel. However, Samuel pointed out to Eder that if he carried out his threat, he, Bentwich, and Deedes would also resign, leaving the Yishuv with precious few friends in high places. The Zionist side realized that it had no real option other than to climb down once again. In a letter to Samuel, Weizmann wrote: it seems that everything in Palestinian life is now revolving around one central problem—how to satisfy and “pacify” the Arabs. Zionism is being gradually, systematically, and relentlessly “reduced”. A great depression, almost despair, prevails in Palestine and is almost universal. It pains me deeply to have to write all this. We are all anxious to help you in your difficult task, but we must be given a fair chance.[25] As Samuel was also under fire from the British press, Weizmann realized that it would be more sensible to support him in public, whatever his own private feelings were. At the Zionist Congress of September 1921 he strongly supported Samuel, and wrote to the high commissioner reassuring him of Zionist support (in spite of everything!). Weizmann managed to arrange an extraordinary private meeting at Balfour’s house in July 1921—extraordinary in that he was able to persuade Lloyd-George and Churchill to attend, and extraordinary if one thinks about who or what exactly Weizmann was at that moment, and what he was doing in the company of these three great men—a past, present, and future prime minister of England—who were running the country. The discussion ranged over a wide range of current issues and in particular Samuel’s June 3 speech. Weizmann said that by halting immigration there could never be a future Jewish Homeland in Palestine, and the government had climbed down from Balfour’s Declaration. The three prime ministers did not accept this and said that in any case the halt to immigration would only be temporary. In addition, Lloyd George and Balfour agreed that the declaration had always meant that there would eventually be a Jewish State. This in itself is most interesting, because to talk about a State for the first time was very different from the original idea of a mere Homeland. Lloyd-George then said: “Frankly speaking, you want to know whether we are going to keep our pledges?” When Weizmann said “Yes,” he continued: “You must do a lot of propaganda. Samuel is rather weak.” Weizmann was then asked if he had any other requests, and he said that he was not really enamored of the idea of representative government in Palestine, because it would be to the detriment of the Jews. He said he would be happy if Pinhas Rutenberg, a Zionist businessman and engineer who had had a significant role in

Russian politics, were given the concession to supply Palestine with electricity, and he wanted the regular army units under the command of the anti-Semitic General Congreve to be removed and replaced by a neutral British police contingent. In the end he got all three of his wishes. After Lloyd-George had left, Balfour told Weizmann that the P.M. was very keen on the affair, had a high regard for him, and understood his difficult position.[26] It appeared that this gathering of high political figures was some kind of compensation for Weizmann for what could be seen as Samuel’s faux pas. In the summer of 1921, Weizmann still had his influential friends in Whitehall. In a letter to Samuel, Churchill gave him a very mild rebuke when he told him: “to make a concession under pressure is to rob it of half its value. We must maintain law and order and make concessions on their merits and not under duress.”[27] Samuel appeared rather short of political friends at that moment. A summary of this chapter covering Samuel’s first years in Palestine must start with the question that many people on the Zionist side were beginning to ask, and that was whether or not the High Commissioner was really a Zionist. He himself always claimed that the answer was yes. In all probability the hopes and expectations that the Zionist side had as to what he was going to do for them were unreasonable and exaggerated; consequently their initial reaction to him was one of disappointment. Samuel was first and foremost a servant of the Crown and his primary interest was what was going to be best for Britain. Both the Arabs and the Jews believed that he unfairly favored the other side, and whereas there were those senior officials in his administration to whom he turned for advice who were definitely biased, he himself successfully managed to tread a middle path. He had already made it clear that in his opinion, achieving a Jewish Homeland was going to be a lengthy process. In a private letter to a member of his family he said that he believed that after a period of fifty years Palestine would be become a “self-governing commonwealth with an established Jewish majority.” In the meantime, despite Weizmann’s predictions as to estimated numbers of immigrants, in the years 1920 and 1921 less than 10,000 arrived each year, and in addition, his promises of great Jewish investment from the Diaspora were way off of the mark. Thus the idea of substantial return to Zion had not happened in Samuel’s first year, and the trickle of immigrants coming in was certainly not enough to make him warrant the risk of upsetting the Arab population to a degree which would lead to further bloodshed. It might be interesting to consider why the seven hundred thousand Arabs in Palestine in 1921 were so apprehensive about this almost nonexistent Jewish immigration and were prepared to commit murder to prevent it coming. Perhaps the most important question to be asked is whether Samuel’s decision to use the carrot and not the stick in his dealings with Arab troublemakers set a precedent for the six high commissioners who followed him. He, as a Jew and some kind of a Zionist, had not made any great effort to push the Zionist cause, and when confronted by the leaders of the Yishuv had put them in their place very easily, as they were evidently lacking in clout. His successors, with much less personal

attachment to the “cause,” would be very tempted to follow exactly the same line.

NOTES 1. Bowle, Viscount Samuel, p. 170. 2. Stein L, Herbert Samuel. Personal Papers, p. 528 10/10/17. 3. Jewish Chronicle, 7/12/1917. 4. Reinharz, Chaim Weizmann:The Making of a Zionist Leader, p. 270 5. Herbert to Edwin Samuel, ISA, 100/46, 22/2/20. 6. Bowle, p. 191. 7. Eder to Weizmann, CZA Z4/16033, 5/5/20. 8. Zionist intelligence report, Jaffa, L4/276/1a. 9. Samuel, Memoirs, p. 168. 10. Bowle, p. 206. 11. Milner to Samuel, HS 8, 5/2/21. 12. Samuel to Storrs, Storrs papers, Pembroke College Cambridge, III/2, 30/5/20. 13. Stein, K., Land Question in Palestine, pp. 47–50. 14. Shepherd, Ploughing Sand, p. 109. 15. Caplan, The Yishuv and the Arab Question, p. 140. 16. Gilbert, Churchill and the Jews, p. 58. 17. ibid, p. 59. 18. Sykes, p. 68. 19. Caplan, pp. 92, 23. 20. Eder to Zionist Executive, CZA A226/31/2, 8/5/21. 21. Segev, p. 159. 22. Kisch, Palestine Diary, p. 20. 23. Palestine Weekly, special supplement, 3/6/21. 24. Eder to Zionist Executive, CZA A226/31/1, 4/6/21. 25. Weizmann to Samuel, CZA Z4/2279, 18/7/21. 26. Sykes, p. 80. 27. Churchill to Samuel, PRO CO 733/3/180ff, 14/5/21.

Chapter 4

The Palestinian Arabs Set Out to Torpedo the Mandate The ink was hardly dry on the original Balfour Declaration of November 2, 1917, before some of its proposers began to have second thoughts about whether or not they had done the right thing, and if not, whether they could find a way to escape from the commitment they had just made. There was always the hope on the Arab side that while the signs were that the declaration would be incorporated into the forthcoming Mandate agreement, there might still be a chance that the British government would change its mind. The Arabs had already seen the strong opposition to government policy from the OETA, and in the summer of 1921 were encouraged by the fact that when the heat of Arab violence and aggression had been turned on, Samuel had almost folded. This was clearly the moment for the leadership of the emerging Palestine nationalist movement to take the battle to Whitehall, and to knock personally on the government door with a demand that it should revoke the declaration and its planned inclusion in the Mandate agreement. The Fourth Arab Congress had already approved the idea of sending a delegation to London in March 1921, two months before the Riots, but because of a lack of funds and political squabbles as to who should be selected to go a final decision had not been made. It was their perceived victory in the riots themselves, and more importantly the pressure put on the Arab Executive by an influential group of anti-Zionists in London that it was important to have the delegation there, which finally convinced them to go. This London pressure group was comprised of some ex-officers who had previously served in Palestine, where they had clearly shown their anti-Zionist dispositions. Such men as Vivian Gabriel and Bertie Waters-Taylor we have already met. In addition there were Conservative peers in the House of Lords, such as Lords Sydenham, Islington, and Raglan who were most active in a campaign, which also had the support of a rightwing anti-Zionist press. The aim of the group was to get the government to revoke the Balfour Declaration, which in turn would block the passage of the mandate and prevent it coming into existence in its present form. As the League of Nations Council was finally due to ratify the mandate in the summer of 1922, the group believed that it was important for the delegation to get to London as soon as possible, believing that its presence might be important for their campaign. The delegation led by Musa Kazem arrived in London in the middle of July, having first dropped in on the Pope, no friend of Zionism, for his blessing. From the moment of its arrival it was taken over by the London group, which stage managed its appearances and negotiations, and provided money, translation, and publicity where needed. Weizmann’s comments on this alliance were that “the delegation served as a

rallying point for elements which we should now describe as ‘reactionary’ or ‘fascist,’ but which we then spoke of as ‘the diehards.’”[1] Samuel met with Musa Kazem before the delegation left for London. He did not put any obstacles in its way, but informed him that the British government would not officially recognize the delegation as representing all Palestine Arabs, and in his opinion they would be better staying at home where they could help to set up a system of constitutional government which was much more in their interests. In the meantime he would continue working with other Arab leaders who were not on the mission. A member of Samuel’s administration, Captain Brunton, the chief staff intelligence officer in Jaffa, wrote at this time: ever since our occupation of the country, the inhabitants have disliked the policy of founding a National Home for the Jews in Palestine This feeling has gradually developed into nothing short of bitter and widespread hostility, and the Arab population has come to regard the Zionists with hatred and the British with resentment. Mr. Churchill’s visit put the final touch to the picture. He upheld the Zionist cause and treated the Arab demands like those of a negligible opposition to be put off with a few phrases and treated them like bad children. After this the Arabs decided to send a delegation to Europe, and funds have been collected from all over Palestine and subscribed by extraordinary enthusiasm by all classes.[2] The two men who were going to have to field the delegation’s offensive were Samuel and Churchill. The former wrote to the latter predicting that the delegation would make the usual excessive demands, such as the immediate abolition of the Balfour Declaration, but would hopefully settle for less. He also worried that if there was no agreed settlement and the Arabs returned empty-handed, there would be a bitter reaction, possibly leading to violence in Palestine. He further advised Churchill that in any negotiations between the delegation and the Colonial Office (CO), it had to be made clear that the government was not going to compromise on its policy regarding the Balfour Declaration and the mandate. On the other hand, the government would be happy to talk about a constitution for Palestine that would give the Arabs a substantial amount of authority Churchill, for his part, reported to the cabinet that he felt enormous disquiet about the Palestine situation. The government’s pro-Zionist policy was very unpopular with everyone except the Zionists. The Zionists were complaining bitterly about the lack of progress, the weakness of Samuel, and the bad treatment they were getting from administration officials and military personnel, and Jews and Arabs were at each other’s throats. For all that, however, he had done his best in the past (and would do the same in the future) to give effect to the Balfour Declaration promise “If it is the settled resolve of this Cabinet.” Churchill had thus put his cards on the table. He didn’t particularly like what he

was having to do, but would continue if his colleagues really wanted it, which of course they did. He was fishing for a way out, but nobody took the bait. Other than meeting with the delegation in August 1921, soon after its arrival, Churchill rarely met the delegates during their year in London, and left the difficult day-to-day contacts to his CO staff under Sir John Shuckburgh. At the August meeting the delegation returned to the excessive demands that had been presented to Churchill the previous March in Jerusalem, and once again he reiterated that the British government meant to carry out the Balfour Declaration, as he had told them again and again, and they needed to accept the fact. Other political opponents of Zionism such as Curzon and Edwin Montagu would have nothing to do with the delegation. They had no option but to be loyal to government policy. It was soon evident that the members of the delegation had little or no political experience, few negotiating skills, and no understanding of tactics or compromise. Their demand that the Balfour Declaration should be revoked immediately was based on two claims: first, that Britain had not complied with Article 22 of the Covenant of the League of Nations, which stipulated that they should have been consulted about a future mandate; and second, that according to the MacMahon-Hussein correspondence of 1915, they claimed that Britain had promised the Arabs an independent state in Palestine after the war, and yet very soon afterward the British government had offered the same land to the Zionists. This was a serious allegation, and probably not without some foundation. The Colonial Office was forced to defend the government’s record vigorously and point out that no agreement had been concluded in the correspondence because the two sides, Arabs and Britain, were at cross purposes as to exactly which area of land was being discussed. In that case Britain was completely free to make any other arrangement it thought fit. Sykes uses the expressions “sharp practice,” “dubious action,” and “clever swindling” to describe the tactics of the CO when persuading the Arab side that they really didn’t have a case.[3] Shuckburgh, throughout the whole period of the Arab delegation visit, tried to convince its leaders that they should stop trying to overturn the Balfour Declaration and should start concentrating on the second part of the declaration which protected Arab rights; that they should look very seriously at the constitutional package which Samuel was building and which would be very much in their interests; and that they should talk to Weizmann, who would reassure them that the Zionists had no plans to take over Palestine as a whole. The Arabs were either unwilling or unable to change track in any way, and would not consider any of the constitutional proposals which were put before them. Any proposal which did not include getting rid of the Balfour Declaration and stopping Jewish immigration immediately was of no interest to them. As regards any kind of meeting with Weizmann or any other representatives of the Jewish Agency, they stated that “as nationals of Palestine we are not prepared to appear as suppliants

before alien immigrants.” It was evident that the delegate’s increasing, and even aggressive, selfconfidence was fueled by the support of their London “friends,” and by what they read in the Daily Telegraph, Daily Express, Daily Mail, and even The Times. A particularly harsh opponent of Zionism from within the British press world was Lord Northcliffe—owner of the Daily Mail and The Times. Northcliffe had recently visited Palestine as a Zionist supporter, but claimed that on a visit to a kibbutz he had been very insulted by the behavior of the residents. Seemingly the English gentleman and Lord failed to get the deference which he thought was due to him. Specifically the kibbutz members did not stand up when he entered the room, nor did they bow or scrape before him. His conversion to the anti-Zionist camp could be viewed as some form of revenge, but his and his newspapers’ support were undoubtedly very welcome to the anti-Zionists. Writing indignantly about a lunch given by the delegation to all its supporters in November 1921, Meinertzhagen, whom we met earlier prior to his ejection from Palestine and who was now working as an adviser to Churchill at the CO, described the role of these English officers as follows: it is idle to plead that these officials were ignorant of the political significance of the luncheon party, or that their presence constituted anything less than active opposition to the government. It is abominable that Government officials should be permitted to lend their names in opposition to the policy they serve. I am compelled to believe that the obstruction to Zionism is no longer impelled by Arab ideas and Arab pressure. Obstruction to Zionism is captained by British officials, who have constituted themselves as advisers to the Arab delegation here in London, and are working against Zionism in Palestine.[4] The Zionists had also assembled a group who were ready to join in any useful discussion. Weizmann was usually on hand and Samuel visited twice from Palestine in order to try to bridge the gap between the Arabs and Great Britain, and the Arabs and the Jews. According to Meinertzhagen: the atmosphere in the Colonial Office is definitely Hebraphobe, the worst offender being Shuckburgh who is head of the Middle East department. Hubert Young and little Lawrence (of Arabia) do their utmost to conceal their dislike and mistrust of the Jews, but both very strongly support the official pro-Arab policy of Whitehall, and frown on the equally official policy based on the Balfour Declaration.[5] As the Arab delegation was an unofficial body, the British government was under no obligation to meet with it, but its members did manage to arrange occasional meetings with CO officials. By November Shuckburgh had run out of patience, and in a memo to the CO he wrote:

experience has shown that the Arab delegation are a hopeless body to deal with. It is submitted that the time has come to leave off arguing and announce plainly and authoritatively what we propose to do. Being Orientals they will understand an order, and if once they realize that we mean business may be expected to acquiesce.[6] In fact it wasn’t until the following spring that Churchill decided that Shuckburgh was right, and on May 22, 1922 he announced that the government had had enough, and that negotiations were over. He explained to the Arab and Jewish representatives exactly how the British government was going to govern Palestine in the future, with or without their agreement. At that juncture the delegation had virtually nothing to show for their year in London. The door had been closed, if not slammed, and its members could well have packed their bags and gone home. In fact, however, possibly urged on by their British patrons, they decided to stay on in London for another three months, months which saw a number of important events. June 21 The House of Lords tabled and debated an anti-mandate motion. June 30 The government issued a White Paper, (known as the Churchill White Paper, but largely put together by Samuel), setting out its Palestine policy. July 4 The House of Commons also debated an anti-mandate motion. July 24 The League of Nations Council sitting in London ratified the mandate. September 1 The British government promulgated a Palestine constitution as an Order in Council. On October 19 the Lloyd-George government fell and was replaced by the Conservatives under Bonar-Law. The greatest and perhaps single achievement of the combined forces of the London group and the Arab delegation during 1921/1922 was their success in getting the House of Lords to hold an anti-Zionist debate. The motion was that, as the mandate in its present form violated pledges made to the Arabs and opposed the wishes and sentiments of the great majority of the people of Palestine, it should be postponed until certain modifications were carried out. The debate was opened by Lord Islington, who in his first words said: “I speak in no sense in hostility to the Jewish race.”[7] (I think an exclamation mark would be appropriate here.) He was followed by Lord Balfour, making his maiden speech in the Lords. He more than anyone understood the whole picture, and knew the whole background of the move toward the mandate. He was both forceful and passionate in his speech and rejected the claim that the Jewish National Home was contrary to the principles of the League of Nations and that it would result in the Jewish domination of the Arabs and their lands. He dwelt at length on the many centuries during which Judaism had been persecuted by Christianity, and lauded the Jewish people’s intellectual achievements.

He continued: a message should be sent out to every land where the Jewish race has been scattered that Christendom is not oblivious to their fate and is not unmindful of the service they have rendered to the great religions of the world. They should be given every opportunity to develop in peace and quietness under British rule, those great gifts which hitherto they have been compelled only to bring to fruition in countries which know not their language and do not belong to their race.[8] However, despite his eloquence the vote went against him and the Zionist friends by 60 to 29. To some this might have appeared to be a serious setback to the Zionist cause, but as Meinertzhagen wrote: the power of the modern House of Lords is the power of an air bubble. It was a purely artificial expression of opinion, at root an anti-Semitic vote. There is at present a distinct anti-Semitic wave passing through Great Britain engineered by self seekers as Lord Northcliffe, Islington and Sydenham, and assisted by Gabriel and his gang. The public have been fed on lies, deliberate lies, which 60 Lords have gulped down and credited.[9] Weizmann was most disturbed by the result and hurried round to consult Balfour at his home. Balfour, however, was completely unperturbed and said: “What does it matter if a few foolish Lords passed such a motion?”[10] This was of course the reality. The government and the world took little notice of the result in a House of Lords debate. The real test came in the House of Commons debate two weeks later On July 4 the anti-mandate /anti-Zionism team did battle in the Commons. The opposition was led by Sir William Joynson-Hicks (Jix), who had already shown his anti-Semitic credentials during election campaigns in Manchester in 1906 and 1908, which almost led to him being disowned by his own party. On this occasion the battle was against the government, and Churchill himself decided to put in a personal appearance. Jix proposed the motion that “in the opinion of this house the acceptance of the Palestine by the Government should receive the prior sanction of Parliament.” In his speech Jix fiercely attacked the government, Weizmann, and Samuel, who he referred to as “no more than the good doctor’s poodle.” He also quoted an unfortunate remark of Weizmann’s, who said in 1919 at the Paris Peace Conference: I declare that in the Jewish National Home the conditions would be such that we should be allowed to develop our institutions , our schools and the Hebrew language, that there should ultimately be such conditions that Palestine would be Jewish as America is American and England is English.[11] Jix also pointed out that if unlimited numbers of Jews poured into Palestine, the

Arabs had every right to self-determination and to be able to control immigration. It is clear that this exercise was no more than an opportunity to get some free publicity for the anti-mandate campaign in the Commons, without any realistic hope of obtaining a majority in the voting. The proposers of the motion were up against Churchill at his most brilliantly vociferous. He had a week earlier produced his White Paper and there was no way in which he was prepared to hear anything against this mandate which at that moment was dear to his heart. He lectured the Commons on the enormous benefits that the Jews would bring to the country and asked the question: was this not a good gift that the Zionists could bring with them, the consequences of which spreading as years went by in general easement and amelioration—was this not a good gift which would impress more than anything else on the Arab population that the Zionists were their friends and helpers, not their expellers and expropriators, and that the earth was a generous mother, that Palestine had before it a bright future, and that there was enough for all?[12] William Ormsby-Gore, a good friend of Zionism who had been attached to the Zionist commission and was later to be the colonial secretary, said that the campaign which had been engineered against the Balfour Declaration and against the policy of His Majesty’s Government in Palestine, where it is not anti-Semitic is anti-British. It was contrary to British interests and was only likely to result in the replacement of Britain in Palestine by some other power, so that the country ought to pause before it allowed such a policy to be effected by its own nationals. The result of the vote taken on the motion was Winston 292, Jix 35. Weizmann was happy again. The Churchill (Samuel) White Paper of June 30 was an important document because after nearly five years of having to defend its commitment to the Jewish Homeland against numerous attacks from different quarters, for the first time the British government stated in an official document that it still stuck by its policy, which in essence meant that any further attempts to make it change its mind would be futile. In the White Paper the British government dealt with all the fears and complaints that the Arabs and their friends had previously put before it, completely rejecting the idea that the Arab population, language, or culture would disappear or be subjugated to the wave of incoming Jews. There was no question of the Jewish Homeland being more than merely a part of the country. Palestine was not about to become a Jewish State. However, part of the country would become a center to which Jews spread around the world would be able to come. Therefore it was essential that the Jewish people should know that it is in Palestine “as of right and not on sufferance.” The Home should be internationally guaranteed and based on the recognition that the Jews have an ancient, historic connection. There is nothing in this White Paper which needed to cause either alarm to the Arab population of Palestine or disappointment to

the Jews. Other than this statement of intent there were also two specifics. The first was that the government intended to draw up a constitution for Palestine that would set up a legislative assembly in which the Arabs would have a major part to play in the running of the country. Second, the volume of future Jewish immigration into Palestine would be governed by the absorptive capacity of the country, so that the Arabs would have a voice in this calculation. The Arabs rejected these proposals outright and prepared to return home. On behalf of the ZO, Weizmann reluctantly accepted the proposals. Realistically, he had no other choice. He wrote to Churchill prior to the publication of the White Paper: Sir,the executive of the Zionist Organization having taken note of the statement relative to British policy in Palestine, transmitted to them by the Colonial Office under date of June 3rd 1922, assure His Majesty’s Government that the activities of the Zionist Organization will be conducted in conformity with the policy therein set forth. Weizmann went on to show his satisfaction that the government had reaffirmed the Balfour Declaration and had stated that the Jews were in Palestine “as of right.” As regards the limits on future immigration which were to be tied to the economic capacity of the country to absorb new arrivals, he did express some anxiety, as it was obviously going to be a controversial issue in the future. He finished his letter by stating: the Zionist Organization will continue on its side to spare no efforts to foster the spirit of goodwill to which His Majesty’s Government have pointed as being the only sure foundation for the future prosperity of Palestine. The Executive earnestly hope that the statement of policy which His Majesty’s Government propose to issue will once and for all dispel such misapprehensions as may still exist and that, loyally accepted by all parties concerned, it may mark the opening of a new era of peaceful progress.[13] The one issue which he didn’t mention and which the Zionists had severe misgivings about, was the proposal of a legislative council which was part of Samuel’s projected new constitution. This was the next issue that the three sides would need to deal with when everybody returned to Palestine. In the meantime, the last nail in the Arab coffin came about on July 24 with the ratification of the mandate for Palestine by the Council of the League of Nations. This was the end of the line for those who thought they could prevent it from happening. In the preamble to the Mandate agreement it was stated that the mandatory should be responsible for putting the Balfour Declaration into effect by establishing a National Home for the Jewish people, which would not prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine.

When it came to unveiling the actual text of the Mandate agreement it was seen to contain twenty-eight articles, of which the following would have a direct bearing on the establishment of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine: Article 2 The Mandatory shall be responsible for placing the country under such political, administrative and economic conditions as will secure the establishment of a Jewish National Home and the development of self governing institutions, and also for safeguarding the civil and religious rights of all the inhabitants of Palestine irrespective of race or color. Article 4 The Zionist Organization shall be recognized as an appropriate Jewish Agency for the purpose of advising and co-operating with the Administration in matters affecting the Jewish National Home and the interests of the Jewish population in Palestine, and to assist and take part in the development of the country, and shall take steps to secure the co-operation of all Jews who are willing to assist in the establishment of the National Home. Article 6 The Administration of Palestine, while ensuring that the rights and positions of other sections of the population are not prejudiced, shall facilitate Jewish immigration under suitable conditions and shall encourage, in co-operation with the Jewish Agency referred to in Article 4, close settlement by Jews on the land, including State lands and waste lands not required for public purposes. Article 11 The Administration may arrange with the Jewish Agency to construct or operate on equitable terms any public works or services and to distribute any natural resources of the country, the profits to be distributed by such agency not to exceed a reasonable rate of interest on the capital. Article 22 English, Arabic, and Hebrew shall be the official languages of Palestine. The Arab delegation returned miserably to Palestine, having failed to make any impact on the British government. The mandate was in place. The members of the delegation had been little more than puppets during their stay in London, with the strings being pulled by various lords and ex-Palestine officers who, while purporting to be their friends and protectors, put them in blinkers and refused to allow them to consider any compromise. Originally Samuel had been fearful that their return, empty-handed, might lead to another round of violence and rioting, but this was not the case. During the time of the League of Nations Council meetings, the Arab Executive had organized protest strikes in Palestine, and there was now talk of a civil disobedience campaign and a refusal to pay taxes. The Arab Executive wanted to make it clear to Samuel that if he intended to go ahead with the constitution, which he did, he couldn’t expect any cooperation from the Arab population. The Fifth Arab Congress, held in August 1922 in Nablus soon after the delegation’s return, completely rejected Samuel’s constitutional proposals on the grounds that by taking part in a legislative assembly the Arabs would be implicitly

accepting the validity of the Balfour Declaration and the mandate. In addition, as the proposed composition of such an assembly was to be ten administration officials plus the high commissioner and twelve elected members, of which eight would be Moslems, two Christians, and two Jews, it was unlikely that the Arabs would have a majority. Richmond still showed that he was prepared to support the Arab Executive, even if by doing so he would be working against administration policy, irrespective of the fact that he himself was an official of that administration. Referring to the terms of the proposed council, he wrote to Deedes pointing out that the Moslem/Jewish/Christian ratio in the Palestine population was 7:1:1, whereas it was proposed that in the council it should be 4:1:1. He scornfully asked Deedes, his immediate boss and much more senior than him, how he proposed to justify this to the Palestine people and the League of Nations. There was a legal obligation to carry out a population census. However, the Arab Executive leadership published a statement that Arabs should not take part in the census and should boycott the elections. In a rare show of firmness by the administration, Deedes ordered those responsible for distributing copies of the Arab Executive statement to be arrested and copies of the statement to be confiscated. He then wrote to Musa Kazem el Husseini, the Arab Executive president, as follows: “your action is illegal, and you are attempting to incite the population. I will give you until noon tomorrow to reply. If not I will prosecute.”[14] Kazem, evidently greatly shocked by this uncharacteristic and aggressive attack by the mild-mannered Deedes, replied: I regret the misunderstanding on the part of the government on this question, as the statement does not contain anything illegal. Our statement was merely a statement of non-approval of the methods adopted in taking such a census, and we have given each individual the liberty to choose for himself. We are surprised that you confiscated copies of our statement and arrested some of those who distributed it. We would therefore ask you to release the people and the confiscated material.[15] Deedes did not comply with either of the requests, and had the satisfaction of seeing Kazem immediately climb down. At that particular moment at the end of 1922, the Arab Executive was seemingly not looking for a head on confrontation with the administration. On the other hand, there was a new mood within the Arab community which possibly came about as a result of its delegation’s experience in London. Such a visit to the country of an occupying power would have been impossible in Ottoman times, because it would have automatically led to harsh and cruel treatment meted out by the Turkish authorities. There was a feeling that British rule was going to be much more benign, and that there might well be new opportunities for self-expression and debate.

On September 1 Samuel officially promulgated Palestine’s new constitution, with elections fixed for the spring of 1923. In the meantime a new face was seen in the Zionist team in Palestine. Weizmann had appointed Fred Kisch to run the PZE, believing that as an Anglicized Jew and an ex-colonel in the British army, he would quickly be able to establish a rapport with his brother officers serving in the administration. This was something that his two predecessors, Eder and Ussishkin, had never managed to achieve. The ZO acceptance of the White Paper implied that it agreed to support Samuel’s new constitution, and Kisch’s first job in Palestine was to get the various sectors of the Palestine population—Moslems, Christians, and Jews—to the voting booths for the elections of the new legislative council .The task seemed enormous because other than Samuel, few people in Palestine appeared to want such a council. Kisch, however, the new boy in the job, obediently set out to carry out his employer’s wishes. There were three groups whom he would need to approach to ascertain what their position was as regards the elections. The extremist Arabs under the Arab Executive led by the Mufti had already set up a network of Moslem Christian Association branches in Palestine. The association had foresworn all and any contact with the Zionists. Opposing the extremists was a so-called moderate Arab faction with whom the Zionists had already started a working arrangement. David Eder had seen a possibility of cooperating with such “moderates” against the Arab Executive and Moslem Christian Association. His contact man was Chaim Kalvarisky, a man who had devoted many years to trying to improve Arab–Jewish relations in Palestine. He had set up a network of Moslem National Association clubs throughout Palestine, which were also known as the “Kalvarisky clubs,” with the object of “weakening the baneful influence of the Moslem Christian Association and bringing about the JewishArab entente so badly needed and desired.”[16] There was some optimism on the Zionist side that the Moslem National Association would cooperate with the PZE, but everybody knew that such cooperation could only be achieved by paying bribes, subventions, and finding jobs for Arabs in government service, a comprehensive system of graft. Kalvarisky wrote: “the Arab is by nature a materialist and should he realize that no advantage will accrue to him by siding with us, he will naturally turn away from us.”[17] On the other hand, Segev is of the opinion that Kalvarisky entered willingly into these arrangements, and wrote that Kalvarisky was “a cynic who had an almost mystical faith in the corruption of Arabs: indeed he saw it as the key to coexistence.”[18] Although Kisch and Weizmann were not happy about having to “buy” moderate Arab support and about the general atmosphere of bribery and corruption, in reality the time available until the elections was very short and there was no other choice. Thus, very soon after his arrival Kisch himself moved about rapidly through Arab communities, keeping useful contacts sweet and distributing largesse. On the one hand he hoped that some Moslem National Association supporters might defy the

Arab Executive boycott of the elections, but on the other hand he knew that they would have to have a great deal of courage to stand up to the aggression and threats of the Moslem Christian Association majority. Kisch also needed to talk to the Jews. The 1922 census had revealed that there were 88,000 Jews in Palestine, approximately 11 percent of the population. Kisch’s contact with the Yishuv leadership was through the Va’ad Leumi (VL). Its leaders had not as yet been impressed with Samuel’s term in office, and the 1922 White Paper seemed to imply that immigration in future would be controlled by the Arabs, presumably working in cahoots with unfriendly administration officials. They could not see how a legislative council would be in the Yishuv’s interest. They would be minority players at the mercy of a combination of the anti-Semites in the administration and the Mufti. Persuading the VL to encourage its members to vote in the elections was going to be difficult. Kisch tried two lines of approach: first, he said that the Yishuv had a duty to support the Jewish High Commissioner, a line which was not easy to sell; second, as the Arabs were most likely going to boycott the elections, the Jews could hardly be seen to be allying with them to thwart government policy. A comment in the Jewish press read: if it is the fate of the legislative council to fade before having bloomed, let it be the cause of our opponents who try to destroy it at the root, and not because of our tactics. We can leave the sabotage of the elections to the Arabs.[19] In the end the Va’ad Leumi, with the socialists abstaining, reluctantly agreed to participate in the election, although it is not clear which argument if any convinced them so to do. Prior to the election the Arab Executive ran a concentrated campaign of propaganda and intimidation, aided and abetted by the Moslem religious authorities. Mosques were used for political meetings and imams were persuaded to preach proboycott political sermons from the pulpit. The religious congregations took a collective oath not to take part in the elections, on pain of being excommunicated, which meant that their dead would not be buried. The star of the campaign was the Syrian Abd al-Qadir al-Muzaffar. He was an alim, a fiery, charismatic orator and veteran of many nationalist campaigns, who went from mosque to mosque stirring up the communities and religious leaders with fervent sermons. The delegation leaders also toured Arab towns and villages, and the hamullahs in each village signed declarations that they would boycott the elections and send telegrams to the administration. The administration had no means of combating this onslaught. Deedes himself toured many Arab towns and villages, speaking to, village leaders (Muchtars) the Muchtars and trying to persuade them of the advantages of being part of the legislative process, which would enable them to control immigration. Throughout the administration, however, the feeling was lukewarm. Its officers

were instructed not to coerce or to entice voters with the promise of government benefits or aid. In the time of the Ottoman regime the authorities made it very clear to the electorate how they expected it to vote. This was certainly not the case in 1923, when such an approach would have been completely offensive to Samuel’s liberal principles. The moderate Arabs were also confused. Having been pressured by Kisch to oppose the Arab Executive boycotters and to vote in the government-held elections, they then saw that the administration was taking much too neutral a line. Yehudah Porat wrote: “the Arab Executive emerged the victors in this unequal contest between a neutral-liberal government on the one hand, and a national movement making use of intensive propaganda and religious pressure to attain its goal on the other.”[20] The elections were being held to nominate secondary electors for the legislative council. Out of a possible 663, the Moslems elected 107, and the Christians 19 out of a possible 59. The number of Jews—79—and Druze—8—was fixed. This amounted to an election turnout of approximately 25 percent—18 percent Moslems and 5.5 percent Christians. Fifty percent of the Jews had voted. It was an enormous defeat for Samuel’s hopes of setting up constitutional institutions. In his diary, Kisch wrote that the attitude of the government was “pathetically and lamentably weak” and “had the Government made it clear to the officials and to the population that they really supported the elections, the result would have been very different.” Whereas the intense opposition of the Arab Executive in the 1923 elections was to be expected, it was difficult to understand the position of the administration. Richmond himself had said that ““no self ruling bodies should be set up against the will of the population”” and it was known that his pronouncements carried a great deal of weight. But Samuel showed so little enthusiasm and made such little effort toward making sure that the elections succeeded that many people asked whether he really wanted that success, or whether he was secretly hoping that they would fail. It is difficult to believe this, because from the moment he arrived in Palestine, Samuel had always pushed for representative government. It was he who had stubbornly gone ahead with the elections even though the Arab delegation in London and the Arab Executive in Palestine had made it quite clear that they would oppose him and he could expect no cooperation from them. On May 29 he said in an official announcement that “the Palestinian people have not fully availed themselves of the opportunity afforded to participate in the government of the country through elected representatives.”[21] The victors in the election fiasco, the Arab Executive, proclaimed at the Sixth Arab Congress in March that: the East from one extremity to the other will take pride today in you and will boast of your unity and defense. You have defended like heroes your holy question. The fact that you have united to boycott the election to the legislative assembly and have rejected the law which was instituted without your knowledge

and which is an eternal blow to your life, is a true sign that you are suited and fit for the freedom which you demand and for the independence for which you have fought. Today the Moslems and Christians of the world and the West will boast of the Palestine Arabs who have risen to watch over the holy places and have maintained an attitude of lions towards those who oppress our country.[22] However, Samuel had not yet completely surrendered. In theory he could have gone ahead with the second stage of the elections for the council, but in the end he decided that it wouldn’t be wise and instead went back to the idea of ruling with an advisory council, which he had originally set up in 1920 and which had been suspended at the time of the elections. The council would consist of persons to be nominated by the high commissioner, and he set about finding ten prominent Arab politicians (two of them Christians) who would respond positively to his invitation to join him. Having been recently humiliated by the Arab Executive and the Husseinis, his immediate instinct was to approach individuals who did not belong to that family and had no allegiance to it. His first two prospective candidates were Ragheb Bey Nashashibi and Arif Pasha Dejani, whom Kisch described as being ““tres bien vus”” by the government. These were individuals who might really effect a change in Arab opinion, with articulate views and much better prospects than those people who had been members of Kalvarisky’s clubs. Two down, eight to go. Samuel met with the Arab Executive, seeking its help in setting up a new council in which Arabs would cooperate with the administration in all matters which were not political. In reply the Arab Executive stated that “it was willing to co-operate with the Government in all administrative questions that have no connection with the application of the constitution which has been rejected by the nation.”[23] Samuel, encouraged by this apparent approval, went about his work and succeeded in finding ten candidates who agreed to serve, four of whom had been in the original council. But within a month, on June 4, the Arab Executive had changed its mind and urged all those who had accepted to withdraw, as it had now come to the conclusion that ““the scheme was no more than a trap.”” Eight of those who had said yes previously were now put in a difficult position. The reason for the Arab Executive volta face was that had the council gone ahead, the Arab Executive ran the risk of losing the enormous prestige it had won for itself as a result of the successful boycott of the elections. It would now be seen to be cooperating with the government, and as the new advisory council would not have been much different from the proposed legislative council, the administration would have achieved what it set out to do. . In April Deedes left Palestine to be replaced as Chief Secretary by Gilbert Clayton. During the summer of 1923, Clayton and Kisch did their utmost to persuade other candidates to come forward and to persuade those appointees who were wavering to stay put. The two Jews who had been elected to serve by the VL were Kalvarisky and David Yellin, who defeated Dizengoff in a tight contest.

Once again the sinister hand of Richmond could be seen in the proceedings. On one occasion Kisch met with Suleiman Bey Nassif, a moderate Arab from Haifa who told him that Richmond was trying to persuade Arab nominees not to take their places on the council. Kisch reported the matter to Leonard Stein, secretary of the ZO in London, who told him that he had contacted Shuckburgh and Ormsby-Gore at the CO. He continued as follows: Shuckburgh seemed unwilling to believe that Richmond could be guilty of such outrageous conduct and was inclined to be skeptical, but both he and OrmsbyGore agreed that if the facts were as stated, Richmond had been guilty of gross impropriety which would justify immediate dismissal. The matter is to be taken up personally by the HE when he arrives in London. If you can get any definite information about Richmond’s sabotage, I should be extremely glad to have it. If we can drive this charge home, we have a golden opportunity of getting rid of Richmond once and for all and of seeing him dismissed in disgrace.[24] Throughout June and July there was a great deal of coming and going, threats and negotiations, promises and demands, and money changing hands. In a “very secret” letter to Weizmann, Kisch wrote: if they go ahead and take their seats and work against the extremist opposition which is insistently demanding their resignation, they want money. I offered Arif Pasha £100, but he replied quite quietly that £100 or £200 even would be of no use to him and that he would not take it, but if he was to work, he wanted £500. Ragheb wants the same. I think they would both accept £400 each and they would both then work effectively.[25] As with the previous elections, the idea of Arabs taking their place in the council could have only succeeded if the Arab Executive had given its blessing, and whereas for a short time it looked as if it might happen, it quickly changed its mind and began to threaten would-be participants. In this case Samuel’s hopes for setting up an advisory council were bound to fail. In July the numbers had sunk to six and in August it was four. Norman Bentwich summed up this episode as follows: should the cause be lost for the sake of ten unrighteous—or, at least, unpatriotic men? One by one the members were moved by cajoling or threats to resign from office: and like the ten little niggers in the nursery rhyme, the Arabs were reduced from ten to four. Recognizing again that it was futile to proceed either with the council reduced in numbers, or with a new council of twelve reduced in authority, the Government once again accepted the fact. One of the ten members summed up the situation in an Arab proverb: “In a country where the

people are blind, it is dangerous to see.”[26] The final “nigger” to renounce his candidature was Nashashibi in September, but Samuel still hadn’t completely surrendered.[27] Soon after the ratification of the mandate in July 1922, Turkey defeated Greece in the war that had been going on since 1919. The Palestinian Arabs were very impressed and excited by the feats of Ataturk, and seriously considered the prospect of Turkey returning to rule Palestine in place of the British. There were pro-Turkish parades in Nablus and Gaza, festive prayers in all the mosques, and a large thanksgiving gathering in the Al-Aqsa in Jerusalem. The Palestinian Arabs seemed to have forgotten the excesses of the previous Ottoman rule, or perhaps anything was better than their situation under the British and presumably, eventually under the Jews. The Arab Executive decided to send a delegation to Istanbul and to the Lausanne Peace Conference, where it met various politicians and journalists who were sympathetic and seemingly supportive. The same happened in Lausanne where they arrived in November. However other than a few half promises the delegation came away empty handed as Turkey was primarily interested in looking after its own interests and was not looking for any kind of a confrontation with the two major players in the Middle East—Britain and France. Having drawn a blank so far, the delegation was more than pleased to get an invitation from London from Lords Islington and Sydenham and their anti-Zionist hangers on, who suggested that it was most important for them to come directly to England from Switzerland. A new Conservative government had come into power at the end of November, pro-Arab support was increasing, and although ratified, the mandate was as yet not officially signed and sealed. This delegation’s visit to London was a little more successful than that of its predecessor. Its supporters’ club made better use of the sympathetic press, and succeeded in having a resume of the Hussein-MacMahon correspondence published. Although it was no longer possible to stop the mandate, the delegation showed some political maturity by not demanding independence at that moment, and by tentatively showing some interest in new constitutional proposals, including an elected assembly. As a result the new colonial secretary, the Duke of Devonshire, agreed to meet with some of its members in January 1923. The London anti-Zionist group had not yet given up its own campaign. Lord Islington was once again able to introduce a new motion in the House of Lords asking His Majesty’s government whether, as in the elections for the legislative council just concluded in Palestine, the whole Arab electorate refrained from voting in protest against the new constitution—and whether in view of this protest by so overwhelming a majority of the population of Palestine, His Majesty’s government would not now consider the desirability of modifying the constitution so as to bring it in closer accord with the sentiments of the native population and the Arab community throughout the East.

Islington then asked for a thorough enquiry into the budget for Palestine, and into the fiasco of the elections. One of the interesting aspects of the debate occurred when Lord Raglan wanted to know whether Palestine was still considered to be a strategic asset, as this claim had always been central to British propaganda. In his reply the Duke of Devonshire replied that Britain was only in Palestine at the insistence of the League of Nations and no strategic considerations were involved. Whereas Islington’s motion was accepted by the House, because of the form of the words in which it was expressed, it did not result in another defeat for the government. The second Arab delegation returned home in March 1923 having achieved little. It did, however inform the Arab Executive that a cabinet committee was to be set up in the near future to review the government’s Palestine policy, and therefore it was very important for the Arab Executive to continue with its boycott of the elections to the legislative assembly, in order to show the committee the extent of Arab opposition to the government’s constitutional proposals.[28] Following Bonar-Law’s death in May, Baldwin took over as Prime Minister. As a result the Cabinet Committee did not begin its work until early July. The Arab Executive immediately decided to send delegation number three, but the committee refused to meet with its members, ostensibly because it had no governmental status. The more probable reason was because Samuel was against them being received, as he was still trying to persuade some moderate Arabs who were sitting on the fence to be members of his proposed council, and he did not want it to be seen that the British government had received and therefore recognized the Arab Executive delegation. The Cabinet Committee reiterated that Britain had no intention of withdrawing from the Balfour Declaration and that there was nothing on the cards which threatened the continuation of the mandate. The bottom line in British thinking was that come what may, it did not want another power to take its place in the area. However, in order to counteract the Arab claim that the Jews were getting preferential treatment, the committee proposed setting up a parallel body, an “Arab Agency,” which would be an advisory body to the government on all non-Jewish matters. The agency, which would be nominated by the high commissioner, would also have a large measure of control over Jewish immigration, which had always been a sine qua non for the Arabs. An important proviso of the proposal, however, was that both sides would give their approval. Samuel, who had appeared before the committee, was happy with the proposal, if only because it would mean that the delegation wouldn’t be going home empty handed yet again. It was far from certain, however, that the proposal would be accepted by the Arab Executive nor whether it would be third-time lucky for him and his administration. The Yishuv leadership strongly opposed the Arabs having increased control over Jewish immigration, but on the other hand, based on the number of times that the Arab leadership had turned down government proposals, they could not see the

Arabs agreeing this time. In their opinion it would be most unlikely that the Arab Agency would come into fruition. On September 29, 1923 the mandate for Palestine, which had existed de facto since 1920, was officially born, and everybody held his or her breath waiting to see whether this would affect the Arab decision on the agency. The signs didn’t look promising that the Arabs would accept. Musa al-Alami, a leading Arab moderate intellectual, wrote: the Arab Agency seems to me to be little short of an insult. Palestine is an Arab country and Jewish immigrants are intruders who are being thrust upon it by force, so that to accept the proposal, even though it might allow the Arabs to deal more effectively with the Administration at all levels and thereby counteract Jewish pressure on it, would put their community on the same level as the intruders which is intolerable.[29] The London supporters’ group was very impressed that such an offer had been made, and that it would be presented to the League of Nations. Consequently it advised the Arab Executive to hold out for much more as it was clearly in the driving seat. However, in October the Arab Executive once again turned down a British government offer. One of the reasons for this was that the administration had recently created a Supreme Moslem Council with far reaching powers within the community, so that there was less need for another new body. The agency proposal was also strongly opposed by the New Arab Party that had just appeared on the scene, on the grounds that if the Arab leadership were to accept the proposal, the credit for its creation would be given to the delegation which had just returned from London, which was distinctly contrary to its interests. As a last resort Samuel canvassed various Arab leaders and proposed that members of the putative agency might be elected rather than nominated by him. On October 11 he invited twenty-six Arab notables to Government House and formally put the government proposal to them. On behalf of those present, Musa al-Alami said that as they had never recognized the status of the Jewish Agency, they had no desire for the establishment of an Arab Agency on the same basis. For the Whitehall government this Arab rejection was the last straw. The Duke of Devonshire wrote to Samuel as follows: His Majesty’s Government have learnt of the decision of the Arab representatives with great regret. They have now made three successive proposals with a view to closer association of Arab community with administration of Palestine. . . . towards all of these proposals Arabs have adopted the same attitude, viz. Refusal to co-operate. HM Government have been reluctantly driven to the conclusion that further efforts on the same lines would be useless and they have decided not to repeat the attempt.

The Colonial Secretary continued by outlining what the governing procedures would be when he said: in these circumstances HM Government have no alternative but to continue to administer the country in conformity with their undertakings, even though they have to forgo the assistance that they had hoped to obtain from the Arab community. You are accordingly authorized to carry on administration of Palestine with the aid of the Advisory Council. Article 3 of Palestine order in Council, 1923 gives you full discretion in this regard, subject to approval of Secretary of State. You should proceed accordingly.[30] Some less formal remarks came from senior members of the CO. Shuckburgh said: “We shall clearly make ourselves ridiculous if we go on making offers to people who persistently refuse them,” and Ormsby-Gore said: “We must not truckle to an impossible set of people.” From then on until the end of the mandate the high commissioner ruled alone, and his advisory council dutifully rubber-stamped his decisions. The Arab Executive had been actively opposing British government policy in Palestine since March 1921, with little to show for it. One last throw of the Arab dice came during the negotiations for a proposed Anglo-Hejaz treaty between Sherif Hussein, father of Feisal, Abdullah, and the British government. The plan was for a confederation of states to be set up under Abdullah, centered on Jerusalem. The essence of the treaty was that Hussein would recognize and support Britain’s status as the mandatory for Palestine, Iraq, and Transjordan, in return for Britain guaranteeing Hussein’s southern borders with the Hashemite Kingdom, from where he saw a serious threat to his own kingdom. The Palestinian Arabs were very much in favor of such a pan-Arab arrangement, believing that it would immediately lead to them obtaining their independence. On the other hand, they claimed that Hussein’s acknowledgement of Britain’s mandate contradicted the promises made in the Hussein-MacMahon correspondence. Arab Executive representatives planned to start putting pressure on Hussein so that he would include their demand for independence in a forthcoming treaty he was supposed to be concluding with Britain, and sent representatives to meet him and Abdullah in Amman. Hussein made some rather vague promises that he would fight for their interests and independence, but in a letter to the ZO Kisch wrote about the visit as follows: although it has aroused great interest it has not led to any further political developments, and whereas the Arab press was originally full of the Confederation idea, it has recently switched to the idea that a Palestine National Government is in the offing and Hussein is negotiating with Britain on this matter. It seems that Hussein and Abdullah are not at all interested in getting involved in Palestine internal affairs, and the journeys made by the Moslem Christian

Association to Amman have been fruitless.[31] However, when the Sixth Arab Congress approved the visit of the delegation to London in 1923, it instructed its leaders to meet Hussein, who was in London negotiating with the British government. As it turned out, the King found himself to be too busy with his own agenda and could not find time to meet them. In the end the projected treaty came to nothing. Neither side was particularly enthusiastic in pursuing it, and the matter finally came to a head in 1924 when IbnSaud conquered the Hejaz and Hashemite rule came to an end. For the Palestinian Arabs this was yet another blind alley and failure to find someone who would take up their cause in their fight against Britain and the mandate. This chapter has examined the emergence of an Arab political framework in Palestine. During the four hundred years of Ottoman rule, the Arabs had been part of a feudal society trying to survive in a physically difficult area. The many different families and clans had continuously fought each other for land and power, and there was never any unified body representing their diverse interests. The trickle of Zionists which began to arrive in the 1880s was then no threat to the seven hundred thousand Arab occupants. The turning point came when the British replaced the Turks after World War I. It seems very likely that the OETA officers were largely responsible for the growth of the new Arab nationalism plant, and encouraged aggression and belligerency from the Arab community. The fact that the reaction by the administration to the riots of 1920 and 1921 was relatively mild led to the Arabs believing and shouting during the riots: “The British are with us.” As a result, and despite Churchill’s rejection of everything its delegation had to say in Jerusalem, the Arab Executive decided to take on the might of the British government in its own backyard, with shades of Don Quixote jousting at windmills. One of the most important factors in the decision was the optimism of the Palestinian Arab support group in London, which was responsible for inviting the delegations. With hindsight, it is difficult to believe that the hosts and guests could have believed that they had found a way to have the Balfour Declaration cancelled and the mandate changed, but somehow it took them almost a year to find it out how wrong they were. Returning to Palestine, the only thing left which would enable the Arabs to save their faces was for them to cut off their noses to spite those faces, and reject each and every kind of proposal which Whitehall and Samuel believed would have been to their benefit. The Yishuv, for its part, realized how dangerous self-governing institutions with a significant Arab content would have been to its future, and held its breath waiting for the Arabs to shoot themselves in the foot. The Arabs had dug their heels in and had seemingly maintained their pride and dignity, but most commentators conclude that the loss was theirs. From the Zionist point of view the most worrisome aspect of these events was that the Arabs, with Haj Amin starting to make his presence felt in earnest, realized

that they could stir up trouble with impunity. There had been nothing like this in Ottoman times. The high commissioner was a liberal, and this word was very welcome to Arab ears. How this was going to affect Britain’s undertaking to “Secure the Establishment of a Jewish Homeland,” remained to be seen, but it is clear that the stronger and more confident the Arabs became, the further away this establishment was going to be. It seemed very clear that in the early 1920s thoughts about a Jewish Homeland were a long way from the top of the British government’s list of priorities. There was, however, some consolation from the statement of the 1923 Cabinet Committee on Palestine, which reiterated that unless the principles of the Balfour Declaration were maintained, there would be “a substantial sacrifice of consistency and self respect, if not of honor.” Luckily for Zionism, such a sacrifice could never be acceptable to a British government, or at least not then.

NOTES 1. Weizmann, p. 349. 2. Ingrams, Palestine Papers, pp. 122–23. 3. Sykes, pp. 85–87. 4. Meinertzhagen, pp. 111–12. 5. ibid, p. 99. 6. Memorandum by Shuckburgh, PROCO 733/15/268, 7/11/21. 7. Harold Wilson, The Chariot of Israel, p. 57. 8. Cohen, The Zionist Movement, p. 141. 9. Meinertzhagen, p. 118. 10. Weizmann, p. 360. 11. Hansard, Vol. 156, col. 297. 12. Hansard, Vol. 156, cols. 332–35. 13. Sykes, pp. 91–92. 14. Deedes to Musa Kazem, CZA S25/4634, 16/10/22. 15. Musa Kazem to Deedes, ibid, 17/10/22. 16. Kalvarisky to Eder, CZA Z4/2701, 27/11/21. 17. Kalvarisky to ZE Political Dept, CZA S25/4793, 2/7/23. 18. Segev, p. 276. 19. Wassestein, p. 120, quoting from Ha’aretz, 16/2/23 and Ha-tor, 27/2/23. 20. Porath, The Emergence of the Palestinian-Arab National Movement, pp. 154– 56. 21. Caplan, p. 159. 22. Kisch to ZO, CZA L4/16035, Annex B, 12/3/23. 23. Porath, p. 170. 24. L. Stein to Kisch, CZA L4/16061, 19/6/23. 25. CZA S25 564/2, Kisch Diary, p. 154. 26. Bentwich, England in Palestine, p. 101.

27. Ten Little Niggers-traditional children’s nursery rhyme. 28. Porath, pp. 167–68. 29. Furlonge, Palestine Is My Country, p. 84. 30. Palestine: Proposed Formation of an Arab Agency, Cmd. 1989, p. 7. 31. Kisch to ZO, CZA Z4 16028, 21/2/24.

Chapter 5

Herbert Samuel—Part Two The term of Samuel’s position as British High Commissioner in Palestine had not been initially defined. At the end of the fourth year he was asked to stay on for a fifth. After that, although he would have stayed longer, the general consensus of opinion in the Yishuv was “enough,” although his successor might not have been any better. Just before leaving Palestine, Samuel wrote a glowing report of his own achievements there, which we will look at later. As we have already seen, from the moment of his arrival, Samuel set out to please both communities to the best of his ability and within the parameters of British government policy. He was, however, strongly affected by the April 1920 Riots, which took place two months before he took over. He had already predicted that the Arabs would be a force to contend with, but when it came to real conflict and blood being spilled it was a severe test as to whether he could cope with problems that he had never previously met nor visualized. In the autumn of 1921 the antics of the Arab delegation in London were of little interest to the High Commissioner, who had already given his opinion that it was wasting its time. He himself was concentrating on clearing up the aftermath of the May riots and trying to get some consensus on the idea of self-governing institutions in Palestine, something which was always close to his heart. Having taken away the running of the immigration operation from the PZE, the administration issued two immigration ordinances and set up its own immigration office under Major M. C. Morris, who had a good relationship with PZE officials. Of the five members of his team, three were British Jews. Whereas the PZE regretted losing its control over immigration, the number of Jews coming into Palestine in 1921/22 was still very small. Immediately after the May riots, Samuel appointed Sir Thomas Haycroft— Palestine Chief Justice—to head a Commission of Enquiry into the events. Its report was eagerly anticipated and the results were published in early November. The commission found that the fundamental cause of the riots was a feeling of: discontent and hostility towards the Jews due to political and economic causes, and connected with immigration, and with the conception of Jewish policy as derived from Jewish exponents[1] . The Commission was forced to come to the conclusion that: the racial strife was begun by the Arabs, and the police were, with few exceptions, half trained and inefficient, in many cases indifferent, and in some cases leaders of, or participators in the violence. In consequence the Arab ringleaders were fined £6000 and immediate steps

were taken to improve law and order by creating a Palestine gendarmerie made up of a semi-military and semi-civil force, plus a third force of British gendarmes recruited from the Royal Irish Constabulary. The Commission report also made the point that the corruption and weakness of the police reflected the extremely low salaries that were being paid, which led to the force being predominantly Arab, as Jews declined to serve in the force under the terms which were on offer. When comparing these findings with those of the enquiry after the 1920 Riots in Jerusalem a year earlier, in both cases the Arabs were found guilty of starting the riots, and the law enforcement agencies and administration were also found to have been inadequate. But whereas the earlier Commission roundly attacked the Zionists, accusing them of being an important factor in the riots breaking out, Haycraft, while showing that he was aware of Arab fears, made positive suggestions as to how to improve policing in Palestine. Tom Segev writes: imagine the wild animals in a zoological garden springing out of their cages and killing a number of spectators, and a commission appointed to enquire into the causes of the disaster reporting first and foremost that the animals were discontented with and hostile to the visitors who had come to see them! As if it were not the first business of the keepers to know the habits and disposition of the animals, and to be sure that the cages were secure.[2] November 2, 1921 was the fourth anniversary of the Balfour Declaration and the Jerusalem Arab leadership had asked for and obtained permission to hold a demonstration. In fact, the military and police authorities had taken the organizing of the event very seriously, and David Eder had stated that he was satisfied with the arrangements. However, once again the Arab police were not able to stop themselves from taking a part in a potentially explosive situation, and as Neil Caplan writes: according to some reports the crowd seemed, if anything, more menacing after its leaders had conversed with Governor Ronald Storrs. Following an assembly at which Storrs was present, inside the Haram ash-Sharif, crowds surged out to attack a nearby Jewish house killing two of its occupants. A third Jew was killed in the streets while accompanying a party of women and children to the safety of a police station. Later on two other Jews were also killed.[3] Three Arabs were also killed by a Jewish bomb. Ben-Gurion described how Haganah troops were patrolling the streets protecting Jewish life and property, and whereas he was not disposed to openly criticize the administration, he considered that the local authorities and especially Storrs had been inefficient, even if they had not actually incited the mob.

An article in Ha’aretz on November 8 entitled “Brutus. Mr. Storrs and his work in Jerusalem,” had the following advice for the Jerusalem governor: “Leave, Storrs. Your way of governing the city is amateurish and unromantic. Can one look on the spilling of Jewish blood as entertainment as the Romans did?” Although this was not a repeat of what had happened a year earlier, Storrs was accused of being so arrogant as to believe that his personal prestige was enough to prevent any Arab violence, and when the violence did break out, he saw it as a personal affront. Ben-Gurion was much more aggressive in his criticism and openly demanded his resignation. He wrote: this time the moderates and “notables” amongst us will not be able to restrain themselves. Out of national sorrow and insult they call upon the successor of Pontius Pilot, the Governor of Jerusalem to step down. The very fact of Storrs’ presence in Palestine is a danger to the life of the Yishuv[4] . This was another unexpected blot on Samuel’s record, and was especially painful because when he appointed Haj Amin to be the Mufti, Amin had promised him that he need have no further worries about violence breaking out in Jerusalem. (Although to give him his due, the Mufti can take credit for the fact that from then until 1929 there were no further violent episodes perpetrated by the Arab community.) It was suggested earlier that 1921 was a watershed in Zionist fortunes in Palestine. When examining the various incidents which occurred during that year, it is evident that the pendulum had very much tilted toward the Arab side, although it always claimed the opposite and accused the British of being pro-Zionist. Despite the November riots, Haj Amin and his supporters were surprisingly rewarded by the administration in January 1922 when it set up a Supreme Moslem Council. The council was to have control of the waqfs (assets) of the Moslem religious institutes, which were considerable, and control of the Moslem Courts (shari’a). Previously the administration had run these two areas of power and influence, and by transferring them to the Moslem sector it was giving up a considerable amount of its authority. Samuel’s decision was based on his desire to compensate the Arabs for not having a body equivalent to the Jewish Agency, which was still a bone of contention between the British and the Arabs. The administration then “fixed” the internal election so that Haj Amin would become president of the council, a position which gave him authority over five-sevenths of the population of Palestine. The only opposition to his appointment came from the rival Nashashibi family. Thanks to the generosity and patronage of the British government, the Mufti was now responsible for appointing all religious judges (qadis) and lesser muftis, and all officials running the waqf and the shar’ia. This amounted in 1924 to 1,193 people. While the administration paid the salaries of these officials to the tune of £60,000 annually, it waived the normal practice of auditing how its money was being spent. Samuel might have thought that he was merely creating a religious institution, but

in the eyes of the Moslem community there was no separation between religion and politics, and Haj Amin became the de facto head of the Palestinian Moslems. No such institution would have been vaguely possible during the Ottoman period. The Mufti must have thought that his dreams had come true. Harry Luke, Storrs’ pro-Arab assistant, who had sat on the Haycraft Commission and was the acting chief secretary in 1929, marveled at the leviathan established by his predecessors, and the “delegation to the Supreme Moslem Council of jurisdiction so extensive and of powers so wide as to be to some extent almost an abdication by the Administration of Palestine of responsibilities normally incumbent upon a Government.”[5] But Samuel was completely unrepentant about this abdication of responsibilities, and told the Cabinet Committee in 1923 that he saw the council as an intermediary between the Moslems and the administration, and Haj Amin as a person who in a political crisis would prevent people from getting too excited or violent. [6] He was to be proven so wrong. It was the Yishuv which took the greatest umbrage to the “leviathan.” In the five years of British rule in Palestine it could not point to any such similar institution that had been set up for them through British initiative and paid for with British money. It could be understood that the Jews were still less than 10 percent of the population, and therefore commanded less time and attention from the administration, but as far as they were concerned the whole raison d’etre of the British presence in Palestine was the establishment of a Jewish Homeland, and there were precious little signs of any action in that direction thus far. When the disenchantment with Samuel began, not long after his arrival, the Yishuv started to think very seriously about self-service, about setting up their own systems with or without permission and with or without a British blessing. Whereas the British dream in Palestine was that it would be a country in which the two communities would be integrated and live together in peace, the various administrations completely failed to take a lead in making this happen. As a result, the Yishuv leadership concluded that as Diaspora, not British money was going to pay for its future, it had every right to go ahead with securing its existence and satisfying its needs, irrespective of whether this fitted in with the needs of its cohabitants, the Palestinian Arabs. With most of the Yishuv leadership hailing from Eastern Europe, many of the communal institutions had a socialist flavor. As a result, leading administration officials prompted by Richmond claimed that a strong Communist presence was being imported into the country. Samuel himself also believed and feared that there was some truth in the rumor, but in fact, although there were small Communist groups active in Palestine, the overall political flavor could be described as socialist, egalitarian, and democratic. The kingpin amongst the first Yishuv institutions was the Histadrut, which started as a union of two workers’ parties at a conference in Haifa in December 1920. Its declared aim was “to make Palestine the home of the Jewish people on the basis of

Jewish labor and to further the political, economic, social and cultural interests of all its members.” On the basis of the above declaration, at the outset it was not possible for Arab workers to be Histadrut members, although later the Histadrut helped the Arab workers to set up their own unions. Starting with an initial membership of 4,500, within ten years this had risen to 27,000. The Histadrut was much more than a mere trade union organization for agricultural and building workers and kibbutz members. As it grew, it set up training programs, a sick benefit fund, insurance facilities, a bank, a traveling theater, and consumer and marketing cooperatives for its members.

David Ben-Gurion, from Histadrut chairman to leader of the Yishuv, to Israel Prime Minister.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem In 1921 David Ben-Gurion became the General-Secretary of the organization, which very quickly became a major force in the Yishuv. Its paternalistic policy toward its members and the comprehensive welfare package that it offered them resulted in it having a big influence on their lives inside and outside their work. One of Samuel’s first acts after his arrival was to sanction the setting up of a Jewish elected constituent assembly, the Asifat Ha’Nivcharim, a replica of an ancient Jewish governing body of biblical times. This assembly had been refused permission to meet by the OETA, because of Arab opposition. When this opposition was repeated in 1920, their objection was overruled by Samuel. The three hundred deputies of the Assembly met for the first time in October and immediately appointed an executive body, the Va’ad Leumi (VL), which thereafter effectively ran Jewish

internal affairs in Palestine. The leaders of the Va’ad Leumi, including Ben-Gurion, Ben-Zvi, Dizengoff, Sprinzak, Yellin, Thon, Golomb, and Mossensohn, were the same people who were to lead the Yishuv onwards to the foundation of the State of Israel and beyond. The VL was not at all enamored with Samuel or his administration and was quick to oppose and criticize any action which opposed its interests. Still, Samuel wanted to give it a measure of authority, which would in some way match the very handsome gift of the Supreme Moslem Council which he had given to the Mufti and his friends. He therefore suggested to the CO that the British government should create a constitution which would give the VL “juridical personality” and a degree of autonomy, including the right to levy community taxes. Despite Samuel’s proposal there was no reaction from the CO, which presumably meant that it did not approve of the idea. As a result, at the time when Kisch was trying to persuade the VL to urge its constituents to vote in the 1923 elections, the VL decided to use the moment to confront Samuel. A week before the elections it passed the following resolution: the Va’ad Leumi consider that as a precondition for its participation in the elections, it is necessary that they be assured that the Constitution of the Jewish Communities will be ratified prior to the establishment of an elected Legislative Assembly. Failing this, it is certain that a considerable section of the Yishuv will not participate, and the representative character and prestige of the Council will be thereby diminished[7] . Kisch was embarrassed and ashamed of the VL’s attempt to blackmail the High Commissioner three days before the elections and pointed out that the decision to grant a constitution was not Samuel’s to make, but would be made by the CO in London. However, as Samuel personally supported their application and was continuously pushing the CO for an answer, Kisch agreed to lead a deputation to meet with the high commissioner the next day, if Samuel was available. At the meeting Samuel was shocked by the aggressive attitude and bitterness of the Yishuv leadership. He had presumed that he could rely on its support in what he considered a mutual interest. He showed the VL leaders his correspondence with the CO, and pointed out to them that if the VL decided to boycott the elections it was possible that the British government would give up the mandate and he and Bentwich would resign, as they could see little point in continuing “to sacrifice the best of our forces here.” The delegation was far from satisfied and returned to Tel-Aviv very disgruntled. It took all of the efforts of Kisch, helped greatly by Ben-Zvi, in an all-night session to persuade the VL to change its position and come to the polls. In fact, the CO eventually turned down the proposed constitution, and it wasn’t until three years later when the pro-Zionist Leo Amery was the Colonial Secretary, that he insisted on pushing through a statute which would give the VL its new status.

Amery’s initiative was strongly opposed by his CO colleagues. Hubert Young said that the arguments against the proposal were quite unanswerable. He felt very strongly that a matter of this importance should not be decided merely on the recommendation of a Jewish High Commissioner (my italics). And Sir John Shuckburgh said that the proposed system was “quite alien to British institutions.” Amery, however, replied that it was impossible to ignore the communal basis as the natural one in an Eastern country. In fact, the discussions went on for a further three years before the VL finally obtained its constitution in 1928. The third important string to the Zionist bow was the PZE under Kisch’s direction. The PZE was the successor to the Zionist commission of 1918 and had been the voice of the ZO in Palestine since then, for the most part engaged in serious discussion and confrontational negotiation with the administration. Its status had been enhanced because whereas Article 4 of the Mandate agreement gave the Jewish Agency powers to consult with and advise the administration, up until 1928 there was no formal Jewish Agency in Palestine so the PZE carried out its duties. Generally speaking the Yishuv had an uneasy relationship with the ZO in London and with its President Chaim Weizmann personally. This being the case, Kisch, as the representative of the ZO in Palestine, had a struggle before he and the PZE were completely accepted by the Yishuv leadership. However, as he, the Histadrut, and the VL were basically working for the same cause they did eventually arrive at a modus vivendi and when necessary the three of them cooperated and worked amicably together. In that money from the Diaspora came through the conduit of the PZE, Kisch was involved in handling the finances of most of the large Jewish projects in Palestine. But his main occupation was monitoring government policy concerning immigration, land purchase, and employment at the top level. As a result there were often daily bitter battles with administration departments and officials, as he aimed at maximizing and protecting Jewish interests, particularly in these three areas. The ZO ran Jewish education and health care in Palestine via the PZE. While the British authorities did set up a health service in Palestine, the public hospitals were predominantly for government officials and the police. The army had its own hospitals. Private citizens were not admitted unless they had highly infectious or dangerous diseases, or if they were mental cases and there were beds available. Admission to maternity hospitals was restricted to particularly difficult cases. As a result the sick had to rely on private doctors or charities. There was some provision for accident victims and the poor, but medicine in the public sector was curative only, and there was little preventative medicine or health education. Consequently, the Jewish community quickly set up and funded its own health system. One of the important supporters of Jewish health services in Palestine was the Hadassah Medical Association, founded in America in 1912 under its president, Henrietta Szold. Eventually a third of the hospital beds in Palestine were to be found in Jewish hospitals, and the other two-thirds were in government or missionary hospitals.

Whereas at the beginning of the mandate there were only five Arab doctors practicing in the countryside, ten years later there was a huge reservoir of Jewish doctors (mostly German immigrants), and at one time in the 1930s the ratio of doctors to patients in the Jewish community was the highest in the world: one to every three hundred patients.[8] For its part the Government Health Department did not contribute to the Jewish health services and did not officially recognize the system, a system which greatly outpaced the government service in its financial resources and facilities. Colonel G. W. Heron, the director of the administration health department, was one of the most outspoken anti-Semites in the government service. Fred Kisch wrote: during the seven years of my service on the Executive I cannot recollect one single occasion in which Colonel Heron has shown a sympathetic attitude towards Jewish medical needs, or to our representations to the Health Department. Not only has he always resisted to the utmost, the placing upon the Health Department of any obligation for assisting Jewish medical interests, but he has striven, and very successfully, to exclude Jews from service in the Department, in so much as those services were not essential to him. On one occasion when visiting a Government hospital in Haifa, and finding two Jewish doctors employed there, he was overheard to say: “This hospital is too Jewish,” and within a short time both doctors were transferred elsewhere.[9] The Palestine education system was a hotchpotch of various influences. Part of it was inherited from the Ottoman period, and part followed British colonial precedent. Article 15 of the Mandate agreement states: each community has the right to maintain its own schools for the education of its members in its own language, while conforming to such educational requirements of a general nature as the Administration might impose. Education was not compulsory in Palestine during the mandate and what money there was in the administration’s education budget for the two communities was minimal, and barely covered the cost of basic requirements. The Arab community was not prepared to invest in education any money other than that which it received from the administration budget. As a result the overall level of education was very low. Fifty percent of Arab children received some primary education, but a large part of the community was illiterate and few Arab children got to the level at which they would have been accepted in government secondary schools. Other than two technical colleges there was no higher education available. At the 1923 Zionist Congress it was decided that the PZE would be responsible for running the education program. A director of education was appointed, and it was decided how the program was to be funded—from parents, from community bodies such as the Histadrut, from the British government grant in aid, and from the ZO

budget. In 1925 there were thirteen thousand Jewish pupils. The total cost was 92,000 Palestine pounds, and the administration, with a budget of 102,000 pounds, contributed 3,000 pounds (two and a half percent). By 1928 there were 19,500 pupils, costing 160,000 Palestine pounds, and the administration contribution had risen to eleven and a half percent. Throughout the mandate period there were two directors of government education. The first was Humphrey Bowman, who wrote in his diary that he later published: I do not see how any good can come to this country until the Administration is British at the top (i.e., not with Samuel at the helm), and until the preferential clauses in the Mandate are changed in accordance with the White Paper[10] . His assistant Jerome Farrell, who eventually succeeded him, was both contemptuous of Arabs and distinctly anti-Semitic. In general the relationship between the government education department and the Jewish education authorities was strained. It was difficult for the management, brought up in the traditional British education system, to understand that 65 percent of all Jewish children went to schools run by the ZO and the remainder attended religious or private schools. Schools were also organized along political lines by the three main political parties, the General Zionist, Labour, and Mizrahi (religious), who competed for students and encouraged the children to join the party’s political youth movements. Messrs. Bowman and Farrell could not accept that pupils called teachers by their first names, nor that parents should intervene in the running of the schools and the teaching. They also deplored the absence of organized sport. Farrell wrote to Colonial Secretary Leo Amery suggesting that the government should introduce in Jewish schools “ideas based on British ideas of education and conduct.”[11] Whereas government inspectors examined the running of Arab schools, this was not acceptable in Jewish schools where the Jews themselves were providing almost all the money. They appointed their own inspectors. There was always a dispute as to how the education budget should be split up between the two communities. Although the Jewish community was much smaller than the Arab community, more Jewish children went to school overall, and in terms of the amount that each community contributed to the State budget via taxation, the Jewish contribution was much larger. Farrell, who was very much against the “socialists” who ran the Jewish educational system, wrote on one occasion: the teachers apparently claim cost of living allowances as public officers, but their conduct is not that of public officers: they submit to the authority of neither the local education authority, the Va’ad Leumi, nor the Government. The behavior of the officials of the teachers’ association would, in Russia, have ensured their

immediate liquidation. And on another occasion just before leaving Palestine in 1946, he wrote: their education system is vitiated by their “intellectual pride and political intolerance, and their hostility to religious and oriental Jews.” Their public schools have developed an exaggerated and exclusive rationalism largely divorced from the Jewish religion—little understood by most Englishmen. It is now alleged, not without some color of truth, that the ideological resemblance between Zionism and Nazism is becoming more marked.[12] The jewels in the crown of Jewish education in Palestine were the Haifa Technion (Technikum), whose foundation stone was laid in the time of the Ottoman regime and where studies began in 1924, and the Hebrew University, officially opened in March 1925 in Jerusalem. Weizmann had laid the foundation stone in 1918 in defiance of the opposition by the Arabs and the OETA.

Allenby, Balfour, and Samuel at the opening of the Hebrew University.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem All of the dignitaries of the Jewish world were present at the opening ceremony, as were Lords Balfour and Allenby. Studies at the university were to be carried out in Hebrew, making it difficult initially for Arab students to enroll. In the previous pages we have seen the start of the building of Jewish institutions in mandated Palestine. These have included the Histadrut, Va’ad Leumi, Palestine Zionist Executive, and an education and health system. In addition there was the Haganah, an illegal defense force, toward which the government usually turned a blind

eye. The Haganah began its life at the time of the 1920 Riots under the leadership of Jabotinsky and Pinhas Rutenberg, a leading Zionist activist who had obtained the rights to supply Palestine with electricity. At the time of the two riots in May and November 1921, the Haganah was already present and visible. In addition, there were three very important land agencies involved in the acquisition of land in Palestine. The largest was the Jewish National Fund (Keren Kayemeth leYisrael—KKL), which had been founded in 1901 and whose funds were largely provided by the Keren Hayesod, founded in 1920. The other two agencies were private: the Palestine Land Development Corporation run by Arthur Ruppin, assisted by Joshua Hankin and Jacob Thon, and the Palestine Jewish Colonisation Company, which was the purchasing and investment department of the Rothschild company. Chaim Kalvarisky was one of its employees. These three bodies working closely with Kisch were responsible over the years for acquiring enormous tracts of land for Jewish settlement. The above institutions, strongly supported by Diaspora finance, were to become the infrastructure of the future Israeli State. There were few parallel institutions within the Arab community, which lacked the same culture, motivation, and financial resources. It was thought that by going out on a limb and starting to build up its own separate communal institutions, the Yishuv had effectively cut itself off from the Arab community and had shut the door to any idea of a future partnership. As a result, a wedge was driven between the two communities and a rift created which never healed. This rift might have possibly been avoided if the British had done more to build up joint institutions, rather than letting both sides go their own ways. In Wasserstein’s opinion: the attitudes of British officials towards the parallel governments which they helped to establish in Palestine were mixed. In the case of the Jewish institutions, the initiative and dynamic force for their creation always came from the Jews themselves. By contrast, the Arab institutions of quasi-government were for the most part created from above by the British (generally on the initiative of the Government of Palestine) and were deliberately designed to parallel and compensate for the concessions granted to the Jews. The creation of these parallel institutions was intended to reconcile the Arabs to Zionism: but the long term effect was rather to accentuate the division between the two communities and to increase the determination (and in different degrees, the capability) of each to stand on its own.[13] The final year and a half of Samuel’s rule, from the beginning of 1924 until June 1925, was a period free from overt sectarian strife. The Mufti, having arrived at the peak of his powers, was content to keep a low profile for a number of years, and Palestine began to be a stable and even relatively prosperous country. In 1924 the Yishuv was happy to see the back of Richmond. During his stay in

Palestine, he had aggressively opposed both Bentwich and his immediate superior Deedes, but had refrained from openly confronting Samuel. It was in September 1923 that Samuel finally realized how much of a destructive presence Richmond was in his administration. This realization came after he read a Richmond memo viciously criticizing the government’s Jewish National Home policy. After Deedes left in April 1923, Richmond began to be increasingly critical of Samuel and his regime. Already in March, he had urged the establishment of an administration which “cannot rightly or wrongly incur in respect of its personnel the criticism of partiality,” an obvious dig at Samuel. As a result, the HC wrote: “I confess that I think it difficult for Richmond to remain in the service of this Administration, as one of its principal political officers, if that is his attitude on the chief subject of political controversy in this country.”[14] Whereas in the OETA period there were a few occasions when officials were reprimanded and even dismissed for their anti-Zionist views, this was the first occasion when Samuel even came close to rebuking one of the anti-Semites/antiZionists who were to be found among his senior advisers. When Richmond eventually resigned in March 1924, he wrote: I have been led gradually and most reluctantly, but definitely to a conviction that the Zionist Commission, the Middle East Department of the Colonial Office, and this Administration are dominated and inspired by a spirit which I can only regard as evil, and that this spirit is through the agencies I have mentioned, acting in a manner that is not merely unwise and impolitic, but evil. . . . I find myself unhappily in complete opposition: complete because the difference is not merely political but of a moral and even religious order. . . . While forming part of this machine I have tried to alter it. I have completely failed . . . Since things are so, I must go. Meanwhile any act which emphasizes my connection or rather implies my fellowship with it, is repugnant to me: for such an act would be an act of dishonesty, because there is no fellowship of spirit: on the contrary there is enmity, not I hope personal, but still enmity.[15] This anger which finally spewed out from Richmond, directed against Samuel and his administration, showed that he must have had a very difficult and frustrating four years serving that administration. Here was yet another person who thought that he could do battle with the British government and win. Kisch said of him that he made no secret of his opposition to Zionism (compared perhaps to Storrs, who was always very careful to hide and deny it), and that he believed him to be sincere, but it was clear that a man with his views should not have been employed as political advisor to the government in Palestine.[16] A list of his efforts to damage Zionism and British government policy include: persuading Samuel to appoint Haj Amin as Mufti; putting pressure on the Palestinian Arabs not to vote in the elections for the legislative council; urging Arabs nominated for the revised advisory council not to serve in it; attempting to persuade the Whitehall

government to abolish Clause 4 of the Mandate agreement; and continuously trying to convince anyone who would listen that Jewish immigrants were importing communism. With hindsight one wonders how he kept his position for so long. The Arab leadership in Palestine was obviously very sorry to see him go. Gilbert Clayton, who succeeded Deedes, was a good friend of Richmond’s. He had already served in Palestine during the OETA period and was generally sympathetic to the Arab cause. However, unlike Richmond he did not engage in destructive or devious plans to hurt Zionism or do anything contrary to government policy. He was generally very popular with the three sides of the triangle. He did not, however, believe that the Arabs were being treated fairly, and thought that “we are pushing an alien and detested element into the very core of Islam and the day may well come when we shall be faced with the alternatives of holding it there by the sword or abandoning its fate[17] .” He was also fully prepared to add his name to the list of those who thought that Samuel as a Jew could not do the job like a “real Englishman,” and said: “You cannot have Jews—however upright and honorable—in control, and hope to convince the Arabs that they are going to get a fair run.” The question could be asked why these critics of the administration and of Samuel agreed to serve under him in Palestine if it was so distasteful to them. A possible answer might be that they thought they could change the system from within or, in Clayton’s case, he had also made it clear that he wanted to succeed Samuel as the next High Commissioner. In 1924 and 1925 the Polish government initiated a policy of severe economic repression against the Jewish community, which drove a third of the Jewish businessmen into bankruptcy, forcing many to flee the country. A year earlier the U.S. government had closed its borders to mass immigration. Meanwhile, the Russian government had suddenly allowed emigrants to leave, so that Palestine was the logical destination for the Polish refugees. The immigration statistics so far in our period read as follows[18] : 1920: 8,223 1921: 8,294 1922: 8,175 1923: 8,695 1924: 13,892 1925: 34,386 For the first four years it was little more than a trickle, which must put into doubt the claim that the riots of 1920 and 1921 were caused by the Arab fear of Jewish immigration. Christopher Sykes wrote that when the trickle became a tidal wave in 1924/1925, there was no militant reaction whatsoever from the Arabs.[19] O’Brien

suggests that perhaps the earlier Arab rioting was not a spontaneous reaction, but was a put up job organized by the British military officers and the Arab notables.[20] Whereas the bulk of those army officers who were distinctly anti-Zionist had disappeared once the OETA period ended, there remained during the Samuel period the commander of British forces in the Middle East, General Congreve, who was prepared to state his opposition to government policy in no uncertain terms. In May 1921 he told Churchill: “We are faced by three alternatives, an alteration of policy, an increase of garrison, or the acceptance of great danger to the Jewish population.” In October 1921 Congreve wrote to the officers under his command that: whilst the army officially is supposed to have no politics, it is recognized that there are certain problems such as those of Ireland and Palestine in which the sympathies of the army are on one side or the other. In the case of Palestine these sympathies are rather obviously with the Arab, who have hitherto appeared to the disinterested observer to have been the victims of the unjust policy forced upon them by the British Government.[21] When Weizmann read this circular he said: “of all the wicked things that have been done to us in the last six months, this is about the worst.”[22] As a result Churchill removed the army from Palestine and gave the job of caring for its defense to the Royal Air Force. It is interesting to note that for the next eight years there were few cases of Arab violence in Palestine, from which it might be concluded that this came as a result of there being no British army officers serving in the country. The other prime instigator of Arab unrest was the Mufti, who for most of the same period was keeping a low profile. However, not all of the Arab troublemakers had gone away. At the opening of the Hebrew University in March 1925, Allenby—who had said that the concept of a Jewish Homeland would never work—was invited and showed up, as did Balfour, who was seventy-seven and no longer in office. Protests in the Arab press and a mock display of public mourning met the man whose name appeared on the “hateful” declaration. The streets of Jerusalem were silent and Balfour understood that the crowd’s cheers for Storrs, who accompanied him, were meant for him. This was his first and only visit to Palestine, and after visiting other parts of the country he went on to Syria where he was greeted by serious rioting. As a result officials guarding his security quickly smuggled him out of Damascus to the safety of his boat in Beirut harbor, where he spent the last few days of his visit. June 1925 was to be Samuel’s last month as high commissioner. One of his final acts was to write a summary of his term of office, which appeared as a White Paper. This report, which was submitted to Colonial Secretary Leo Amery, started off by listing what had been achieved during his term of office. He reported that the security of the country was well under control, thanks mainly

to the import of 555 Irish gendarmerie. The number of military personnel had been reduced by two thirds, to Whitehall’s delight. This meant an enormous reduction in expenditure. The justice system was operating well as was the postal system. Public health services were good and malaria had virtually been eradicated. Turning to the economy, the greatest part of the cultivatable land was still in Arab hands, but whereas there had been no industry in Palestine before the war, the Whitehall government had given a concession to Rutenberg to set up a Palestine Electric Company, which was producing substantial hydro-electric power. There was also a second large industrial enterprise, the Dead Sea mineral works, as well as an increasing tourist industry. This expansion was almost entirely funded by Jewish capital to the tune of £1,200,000. In addition he noted that the Jewish population had doubled in his time—from 55,000 to 109,000—and so had the amount of agricultural land acquired by the Yishuv. The Tel Aviv Jewish population had increased from 2,000 to 30,000, and the Haifa population from 2,000 to 8,000. He presumably believed that all of the credit for these remarkable increases belonged to him and his administration. Samuel would presumably have liked to have finished there on an upbeat note. However, not only our readers but many others will remember that the mandatory had undertaken to “secure the establishment of a Jewish Homeland,” and so Samuel could not escape without making some reference to this cardinal point. He therefore reiterated that which he had always said, namely that there was no way that the movement toward a National Homeland could be achieved in a short period of time. He reminded everyone that the National Home was not to be the whole, but in a part of Palestine, and that he himself had said that the Jews were there “as of right and not on sufferance.” He admitted that as a result of Arab pressure he had had to impose limits on immigration, but on the whole thought that the immigration operation was working successfully. He was also of the opinion that at that particular moment there was no longer any hatred between Jews and Arabs, and the experiment of grafting a Western culture upon a still traditional Arab civilization seemed to be working out.[23] Turning to the role that the Yishuv had played during his term of office he said: the Jewish Movement has had to rely on its own resources, on its own enthusiasm, on its own sacrifices, its own men. But this one factor, at least is propitious; that the building of the national Home has not been the work of any government; it is not the artificial construction of laws and official fostering. It is the outcome of the energy and enterprise of the Jewish people themselves.[24] This statement, while complimenting the efforts of the Yishuv, seems at the same time to give the impression that the government was very proud of the fact that it had done precious little during the first steps of making the Homeland come about. Samuel had evidently overlooked the fact that he had been sent to Palestine to be an active contributor to this mission, and not merely a fairly enthusiastic spectator.

He seems to have been very satisfied by this situation. He and his administration were blameless; long may it last. Presumably his boss, the colonial secretary, was also delighted with his high commissioner’s analysis of his achievements, but the Yishuv was much less so. Berl Katznelson, a leading Yishuv intellectual, reacted angrily to Samuel’s words, stating that he was not interested in compliments as to how successful the Yishuv had been in building up its institutions, nor did he think that Samuel’s word “propitious” was the word to describe this success. In Katznelson’s words, any success achieved by the Yishuv was achieved “in spite of the methods of the Government which was appointed to execute the Mandate.” He also did not buy the HC’s words of “affection,” which for him were not good enough: “Words were all that the Administration had been prepared to pay to the Yishuv, but we must not allow ourselves to be bought off by tender words of sympathy.” For Katznelson it would have been dangerous if, as a result of the flattering report, the Yishuv were to have gone along with the violation of their rights and the lowering of their stature, or to accept the injustice against them with love. He believed that Samuel thought that he could win over the Yishuv by the words of his report, but Katznelson pointed out that: one gets the decidedly incorrect picture that the Yishuv has accepted the infringement of its rights and the injustice against it willingly and submissively. Why is the political character of the Yishuv distorted to such an extent? And what right has the HC to brush aside all the claims of the Yishuv, even in his hour of departure, at a time when he himself admits that our complaints have some substance to them[25] . The second claim that Samuel made in his report was that the Jews and Arabs were getting closer together and the ill feeling between them had lessened considerably. Jabotinsky reacted to this claim as follows: I understand as well as anybody that we’ve got to find a modus vivendi with the Arabs: they will always live in the country and all around the country, and we cannot afford a perpetration of strife. But I do not believe that their reconciliation to the prospect of a Jewish Palestine can be bought, either by the bribe of economic uplift, or by watered down and obviously falsified interpretations of aims à la Samuel. And on another occasion: we shout from the rooftops that it is all over, the Arabs are ready to welcome us etc. It’s a lie, but still worse, it’s a direct invitation to the Government to assume that there is no longer any contradiction between a local parliament with an Arab majority and the spirit of the Mandate. I consider this policy suicidal[26] .

Samuel, on his way out of Palestine, had wanted to pat the Yishuv on the back and say “thank you for doing our job for us.” It didn’t work. In addition he wanted to show that even though his administration had done very little to bring Arabs and Jews together, somehow it had happened anyway. It was denied. It was important at that moment for the Yishuv to show its Arab opponents that its resolve was unshaken, and that Samuel and his administration’s failure had done nothing to damage the Zionist cause. Little progress had been made toward the establishment of the Homeland as yet, but there would be other administrations which would be more amenable and more supportive toward the Homeland, and this they needed to understand. A summary of this chapter must concentrate on an examination of the seven-anda-half years from the Balfour Declaration up to Samuel’s exit. It is easy to understand that successive British governments failed miserably to even start “delivering the goods.” During the same period the Arabs were beginning to flex their muscles, without ever receiving government disapproval to any serious degree. The first two administrations worked on the principle that Arab goodwill had to be maintained at all costs. In return for this Samuel thought that the Arabs would agree to cooperate with his administration in setting up a framework of representative government, but that didn’t happen. Given that in terms of numbers the Palestinian Jews were still a huge minority, it was difficult to envisage what could have been done to push the administration into carrying out its obligations under the mandate. At least in both London and in Palestine, Zionist leaders strove to put every obstacle they could in the path of ideas of representative government, which was very much against their interests. For the rest the Yishuv was contentedly and steadily building its imperium in imperio in Palestine, without very much reaction from the British or the Arabs. One wonders whether by 1925 both the Yishuv and the British government were beginning to realize that the establishment of the Jewish Homeland was going to be a mission impossible in view of the intensity of Arab opposition to Zionism. The situation could only have changed if Britain had exchanged its carrot policy for a stick policy, or if the Jews and Arabs could have been persuaded to find some kind of entente.

NOTES 1. Haycraft Commission of Enquiry into Jaffa Riots, Cmd.1540, October 1921. 2. Segev, quoting the Jewish Chronicle, pp. 178–79. 3. Caplan, Palestine Jewry and the Arab Question, pp. 118–19. 4. Ben-Gurion, Memories, p. 179. 5. Luke to Chancellor, PRO CO733/172/67296/96, 14/1/29. 6. Wasserstein, p. 132. 7. Kisch, p. 33. 8. Shepherd, p. 130. 9. Kisch to ZO, CZA S25/5789, 20/1/30.

10. Bowman Diary, Middle East Centre, St Anthony’s College, Oxford University, 4/3/1923. 11. Shepherd, p. 171. 12. ibid, pp. 175–77. 13. Wasserstein, pp. 130–31. 14. Samuel to Shuckburgh, PRO CO 733/60/126, 28/9/23. 15. Richmond to Samuel. HS11, 13/3/24. 16. Kisch, p. 35. 17. Clayton to Walford Selby, Curzon papers PRO FO 800/156 and ff, 3/3/1924. 18. Jewish Immigration into Palestine 1919–1942, according to Jewish Agency and government records. 19. Sykes, p. 104. 20. O’Brien, The Siege, p. 168. 21. Wasserstein, p. 107. 22. Weizmann to Eder, WA, 13/12/21. 23. Bowle, pp. 231–34. 24. Palestine Report of High Commissioner on Administration of Palestine, June 1925. 25. Berl Katznelson, Writings II, pp. 153–61. 26. Jabotinsky to Kisch S25/2073, 4/7/1925.

Chapter 6

Seeking a Jewish–Arab Entente 1924–1929 Up to the time that Kisch was appointed to head the ZO operations in Palestine in 1922, the ZO had not had a policy as to how it was going to deal with the Palestine Arabs. David Eder, his predecessor, did not see it as part of his job to build bridges between Jews and Arabs. His feelings about Arabs were clearly expressed in his evidence to the Haycraft Commission when he said that there could only be one National Home in Palestine, and that would be a Jewish one. Moreover, there would be “no equality in the partnership between Jews and Arabs, but a Jewish preponderance as soon as the numbers of the race were sufficiently increased.” When it was pointed out to him that at that moment the Jews represented a mere seven percent of the population, he replied: we think that all the promises of the allies to the Arabs have been carried out. An Arab king is in Mesopotamia, The Emir Abdullah is in Transjordania. The Hedzi is a free country under King Hussein. We beg the Arabs to recognize our claim in Palestine, granted by the Balfour Declaration, confirmed at San Remo and the Treaty of Sevres. Questioned as to whether they wanted predominancy, he replied: “it seems that we shall be the dominant partner.”[1] This represented the feelings of many Zionists in 1921. However, following the riots of 1920 and 1921, Weizmann decided that there was an “urgent need of systematic efforts towards reconciliation with the Arabs,” so that when appointing Kisch he made it clear that he expected this to be an important part of his responsibilities. In this chapter we will examine how successful he was. The Arab Executive dominated by the Mufti had made it very clear that there would be no contact whatsoever with Zionist representatives, and as we have already seen, any cooperation or support that the PZE sought from the moderate faction had to be bought. Palestinian Arab politics were dominated by two rival families. When the dominant Husseinis erected an impenetrable barrier against Zionism, the Zionist leadership would automatically try to court the second family—the Nashashibis. Politically there was not much difference between the two, although the Nashashibi faction was considered to be slightly more liberal and less overtly aggressive. In public both of them needed to call for the repudiation of the Jewish National Home policy and for the establishment of an Arab national government. In private, however, the Nashashibi faction was not completely anti-government and seemed to accept that there were advantages to be had in working with the PZE. Neither Kisch nor Weizmann were happy that the PZE had needed to bribe Arabs in the past in order to get their political support. Other Yishuv leaders agreed with them. Ben-Gurion stated that every Arab could be bought but there was little benefit

to be gained, and Jabotinsky said that bribery policy doesn’t pay, as “they take the money, and behind our backs they laugh at us.” Joseph Sprinzak, a veteran Zionist leader, said that there was one point on which everyone seemed to agree, and that was that it was futile to try by corruption to build up a new party which would accept the Balfour Declaration. He believed that Arabs could be bought over for a specific action of limited duration, but because they were so wholly unreliable, it was useless to try to persuade them to tie themselves to an unpopular cause over a long period. It might be possible to get a strong Arab party to work with the Zionists for a short time on the basis of economic cooperation, but the Zionists should forget about trying to forge a political regime with the Arabs. In a letter to the ZO in London in May 1923, Kisch laid out ideas for a new and different relationship with the Arabs. He forecast that eventually opposition to the Husseinis would arise for commercial reasons, because Arab businessmen would realize the advantage of doing business with Jews, which would attract outside investment. However, whereas initially he had thought that if there were available money, cooperation was possible, he also realized that any Arab seen to be cooperating with the Zionists would be branded as a traitor to the Arab cause. He therefore proposed improving social contacts by setting up mixed Arab–Jewish residential areas and encouraging Arab students to learn at Jewish institutions (the Technicum). He also thought that the Sephardi community should take a special role in building bridges with the Arabs, as in many cases they had a common background. Kisch asked the ZO to invest £6000 to open centers which would challenge the Moslem Christian Association dominance of the Arab community, and wrote optimistically about the possibility of real success, with the words: “bearing in mind our present weakness, this is a sound policy and one which can succeed. Tilting at windmills cannot.”[2] This was possibly the first time that a senior ZO official had prepared a formal program designed to improve relations between the Arab and Jewish communities. Although in the main there were few meetings between Arab and Zionist leaders in the 1920s, mutual friends managed to arrange a rare meeting between Kisch and Musa Kazem, the Arab Executive president, in October 1923. Kisch started their conversation by saying that when a patient (Palestine) was sick, it was for all interested parties to consult together and help with the treatment. Musa Kazem replied that when the patient was dying it was better that everybody left him alone. He believed that the Arab and Zionist programs were so far apart that consultation was useless, so that it should be left to the government to mediate between the two. He went on to criticize the Zionists, saying that the employment of Jewish labor on building roads took the bread out of the mouths of the Arabs, to which Kisch replied that the number of Jewish road makers was very small and as the roads were for everybody’s benefit and were paid for out of everybody’s taxation, it was really immaterial who did the building.

There followed an inconclusive discussion about whether historically the Jews had any better claim to Palestine than the Arabs, and Kisch continued by pointing out how much money raised outside and invested in Palestine found its way into the economy for the benefit of both communities. Kazem, however, made the point that a great deal of money had gone into the pockets of Zionist leaders. At this point the meeting ended angrily, and as Kisch wrote to Weizmann: I replied with some violence that I refused to continue the conversation with him if he intended to use such arguments which he knew perfectly well to be false. I told him that such arguments were unworthy of a man who claims to speak on behalf of the Arabs of Palestine.[3] Kazem did not withdraw his remark but stated that he had merely quoted from some newspaper which he had seen and supposed it was accurate. Kisch described Kazem as “Having what the Americans called a one track mind,” and did not think that any further discussions were likely to arise from that conversation, or that discussion with such a man could produce any useful result. In a subsequent letter to Weizmann, Kisch wrote: I have nothing to add to what I have recorded in the note except that Musa Kazem gave the impression of a man who feels he is slipping from power and that I think it was this feeling that prompted him to see what would transpire through a conversation with me. The conversation once launched however, his temperament took control with the result that the discussions never showed any signs of producing any useful results.[4] The AE secretary, Jamal al-Husseini, also met with Kalvarisky in this period. It was a significant meeting because after the failure of the plans for self-governing institutions, the administration continued to govern via an Executive Council of British officials. The AE, whose entire program was based on national self-government, felt that it was becoming marginalized. He therefore put a new proposal to Kalvarisky for a bicameral legislative council with a lower chamber elected on a proportional basis, and an upper chamber consisting of ten British officials, eight Muslims, two Christians, and two Jews. In this scheme the upper chamber would need to confirm any decision of the lower chamber, which would automatically protect Jewish interests, and the High Commissioner would have the right to veto any legislation. Kalvarisky was enthusiastic about the idea and saw it as “progress by the Arab Executive, as a consequence of the realization of the hopelessness of its attitude hitherto adopted.” He was optimistic about concluding a deal, but Kisch was much less enthusiastic, and pointed out that if the lower chamber proposals were continually rejected by the upper chamber, the Zionists would build up a negative image for themselves in the eyes of the world.

When Kalvarisky subsequently discussed the proposal with Samuel, he found the HC was also skeptical about any possible success, and so reluctantly he dropped the idea. It is unclear why the AE had put this proposal to a Zionist official, who had neither the means nor the authority to make it work. It is possible that the Executive did not want to approach the administration directly for fear of being rejected, thereby losing face, so that by using Kalvarisky as a messenger it could have been thought that the initiative had come from the British or the Zionists. These few isolated incidents show that from time to time the Arab Executive was prepared to put out feelers to explore possible avenues of cooperation with both the Zionists and the administration. This was particularly the case after the Sixth Arab Congress in 1924, after which point the AE no longer dominated Arab politics and was forced to consider other alternatives and arrangements in Palestine. The PZE was well aware of this decline, and quickly decided that the time had come to make a big effort to build up a new and more moderate Arab presence in Palestine politics. In the autumn of 1923 there was talk of a new moderate Arab party under the leadership of Dejani Arif Pasha and Nashashibi Ragheb Bey, two individuals who had cooperated with the Zionists in the 1923 elections for a legislative council. The new party would also have the backing of the Jerusalem-based newspaper Merat el Shark and the Haifa newspaper El Kafir. Kisch himself did not anticipate that this new party would be overtly sympathetic toward Zionism, but believed that it would be less aggressive in its attitude toward the administration. He hoped that its leaders would wait for signs of positive action from the government rather than insisting on immediate support for their policies. The leader of the Nashashibi faction, Ragheb Bey, was said to be “a man of easy conscience, well versed in the practices of Turkish officialdom.” While he was much more open to calculation and compromise than the Mufti, he could not be considered excessively moderate.’ The Nashashibis’ goal was to wrest power from the Husseinis and to cause them the greatest possible political damage. They therefore invariably took the completely opposite stand on any and every issue that their rivals supported. The new Arab political party, known as the Palestinian Arab National Party—alHizb al-Watani al Arabi al-Filastini—came into being on November 10, 1923. In a letter to Weizmann, Kisch summarized its declared political platform as follows: Palestine would be for the Arabs and Arabic would be the official language of the country. The Balfour Declaration and Government proposals for the Arab Agency would not be recognized. The Palestine Government should be lawful and parliamentary. The country would remain Arabic for its Arabic inhabitants, and would not acknowledge the present laws of the country, and there should be a national democratic government which would draft a constitution. There would be an extensive propaganda campaign, and Palestinian Arabs had to hold many more official posts in the Government.[5]

Kisch had been hoping for a milder tone in the new party’s demands, as the language it was using was not very different from that of the Moslem Christian Association; however, he realized that the Arab mentality required an initial show of strength from its political leaders. Thereafter it was possible for it to be more cooperative in its dealings with the government and more tolerant of Zionism. In a letter to the ZO Kisch intimated that he had established relations with the party and that the PZE would be able to have some control over its activities. This would point to the existence of some kind of financial arrangement which would allow the PZE to influence the way the party was to be run. He wrote that he had come to an arrangement with Merat al-Shark, “the organ of the New Party,” and with the secretary of the Moderate Arab Congress which was about to open, who told him that resolutions at the Congress would not be especially favorable to the Zionists as this would be contrary to the mood in the country at that time. In addition, there would not be any discussion at this time on the Balfour Declaration. But Kisch did envisage that there would be “lines of economic cooperation” opening between the PZE and the New Party which would result in political cooperation between them. It would be necessary to continue buying Arab support, but when asking for the ZO to send sufficient funds, the amount involved was much less than previously authorized. He himself was undoubtedly a basically honest man and would have preferred to finish with this system of subventions, but he had not yet reached the point when it was possible. Dejani, reporting on the proceedings at the “National Party” Congress, told the PZE that the executive had drafted excessively extremist resolutions and would not listen to his or Arif Pasha’s advice. As a result they had left the congress and the party. Dejani said that it would obviously take time before the new party’s leadership would have the maturity and stability to articulate their ideas, and until that happened the country would remain in an unstable political position. Sydney Moody, a CO official who had previously lived in Palestine and knew the country well, wrote: it is amazing to read that the Jews were disappointed that the programme of the Nationalist Party did not include anything approaching an acceptance of the Balfour Declaration . . . No Arab Party can or will openly accept or approach an acceptance of it. There is nothing in my opinion, to be gained by pretending that it is possible. There would however be even less to be gained by abandoning it on that account.[6] He also described the bitter attack that the Arab Executive made on the New Party, which it described as being “treacherous.” The Arab newspaper al-Karmel criticized both parties for their unfair attitude toward each other and suggested that they should hold a conference in order to bury their differences. There was a feeling that struggle between the AE and the National Party was a question of personal

power and a dispute between the two families, because politically there was little to choose between them. It was difficult to see how they could resolve their implacable rivalry and hostility. The Yishuv leadership was happy to have caused an open schism in the ranks of the Palestinian national movement, but it was less happy with the New Party’s antiZionist program. The New Party gradually began to broaden its power base under the leadership of Sheik Suleiman Taji al-Faruqi and Sheik As’ad Shuqeir, and it was joined by two Arab newspapers, the Filastin and al-Karmel, which originally supported the Moslem Christian Association. A big success for the party came when it managed to obtain a High Court order annulling the 1926 local elections, because of voting irregularities by the Supreme Moslem Council. In the following year the New Party felt that it would be ready to take on the Husseini faction in the elections, and felt that the result of the election would effectively decide which party would run Palestine Arab politics. Both Arab parties realized how important the Jewish vote would be. Jamal elHusseini asked to meet Kisch on behalf of the Moslem Christian Association, in order to persuade him to encourage the Jewish voters not to vote for the Nashashibi faction. Ragheb Nashashibi had been the Mayor of Jerusalem for seven years, and had proved to be a poor administrator who was not popular with the Jewish community. Kisch, however, wanted to know what advantages would accrue to the Yishuv by voting for the Moslem Christian Association. This question evidently embarrassed Jamal, and unable to point to any concrete advantage could only hint that a negative vote would incur the wrath of the Husseinis. He said that: any understanding now reached for the purpose of the elections should not be implied as an understanding on other points (such as an acceptance of Zionism), but nevertheless it would be regarded as a sign of goodwill and as a step towards cooperation in the future.[7] Kisch was amused by the fact that the two Arab parties were “coquetting with him and his colleagues, but said he would not let himself be drawn by any of them unless he saw a very substantial prize in sight.” Even more surprising was a surprise visit paid by Haj Amin himself to the Jewish Judge Gad Frumkin. He urged Frumkin to persuade the Jewish community to vote against Nashashibi, and gave specific promises that a future Husseini administration would be more sympathetic toward the Jewish community and would not oppose Zionist immigration and land purchase. The Jewish community, however, had not forgotten the Moslem Christian Association’s aggressive anti-Zionism, and the majority of Jews did vote for Nashashibi, who won convincingly in Jerusalem. The New Party also made big gains in other parts of Palestine. In contrast, the AE lost ground. Its traditional supporters believed that it had not been tough enough on Zionism. As a result it had to close its Jerusalem office, which

it shared with the Moslem Christian Association, and its once powerful secretary Jamal el-Husseini was forced to work for his uncle the Mufti at the Supreme Moslem Council. In this period Arab Executive operations were limited to demonstrations against Lord Balfour at the opening of the Hebrew University in 1925 and a few acts of solidarity with Syrian rebels in the second half of the same year. Most of the organized resistance to Zionism had disappeared, and even the traditional strikes on Balfour Day had been forgotten. The administration, however, gave no encouragement to the New Party despite its electoral success, and continued with its traditional support for the Moslem Christian Association. Despite this, the party did not criticize or attack the government, and it also decided that its best strategy at that moment would be not to get too close to the Zionists. Having lost its predominant position in Arab politics, the AE needed to find a new approach to win back its supporters, and decided to look again at the possibility of proposing a legislative council to the new British High Commissioner, Lord Plumer. It had apparently forgotten its strong opposition to such a council and its boycott of the 1923 elections. Whereas the AE had initially strongly attacked the New Party, when it understood that in its statement of its political platform the New Party also supported the idea of a legislative council, it put out feelers to find out whether the two parties might cooperate in realizing that one issue. There then followed initial negotiations after which the two sides decided to call an Arab Congress in 1928 for the first time in five years, where the matter could be discussed; if agreement were reached, they would make a joint approach to Plumer. Predictably the Yishuv leadership strongly opposed such a legislative council, as it had always done, and as a result the Arab Executive was forced to find a way to soften this opposition. Kalvarisky was invited to a meeting with Arab leaders, at which he was promised that if the Zionist side were to support their proposals, they would ensure that there would not be any attack on the Balfour Declaration or the mandate at the forthcoming congress. Kalvarisky was very impressed by this overture and thought that there was a very real chance that Zionist–Arab talks could be set up in the near future. Kisch, though, refused to consider such talks, which would ostensibly signify that the Zionist side had changed its mind about a legislative council. Kalvarisky then had to return to the Arab Executive leaders and inform them that once again the PZE had lost an opportunity for an accord with the Arabs, which he regretted. Kalvarisky, the eternal visionary, had devoted the whole of his political career to bringing Jews and Arabs together, but in most cases he was representing his own personal views rather than those of the Zionist establishment. Arab politicians were well aware of this and often tried to exploit this potential split in Zionist ranks. The most important outcome of the 1928 Arab Congress was that the two Arab parties had settled their differences and were ready to present a united front to the

HC on the question of setting up a legislative council. In addition they had toned down their previous aggressive demands and were no longer calling for the abolition of the mandate or the Balfour Declaration. It was thought that most of the credit for this was due to the more moderate position of the Nashashibi faction. When the representatives of the AE and the New Party met with Plumer, he expressed interest in the council idea, and passed the matter to the new chief secretary, Sir Stewart Symes, for his consideration. In his report to Plumer, Symes wrote: such a concession to Arab opinion must inevitably complicate and retard immediately if not ultimately, the good government of the country, but it is nevertheless desirable as a safety valve for nationalist sentiment. This course involves the taking of certain risks and a great deal of bureaucratic inconvenience, but I believe it will prove the safest and ultimately the best for Palestine.[8] Plumer, however, could not accept that the only reason for setting up the council was for the purpose of placating the Arabs, and he turned down the proposal with the full backing of the CO. His successor Sir John Chancellor, who arrived in Palestine later in 1928, was in favor of setting up self-governing institutions and allowed his Chief Secretary Harry Luke to meet representatives of both Arab parties. However, the events of 1928/1929 put a stop to any progress in this direction. Kisch reported to the Zionist Executive in London that the Yishuv leadership was opposed to self-governing institutions, and whereas it should not openly oppose such institutions, it should seek adequate safeguards for the rights of the Jewish community. He added that if it were impossible to obtain safeguards, the ZO should in the meantime try to improve relations in social and intellectual areas, and a special committee should be appointed to implement whatever recommendations were adopted. He went on to say that whereas he agreed with some economic cooperation, he really believed that creative exertions in industry and agriculture must be strictly Jewish, “so that the results of Jewish exertions may directly strengthen the moral material strength of the Jewish national structure.” Kisch had evidently changed his mind since he had gone along with Samuel’s dream of achieving self-governing institutions in 1923. By 1928 his ideas about cooperation between Jews and Arabs in general had cooled. Whereas he did not ignore the desirability of cooperation between the two communities, he was not willing for it to compromise Jewish interests. In the period up to 1928, Kisch had initially tried to drive a wedge between the two Arab political factions, but when the rift between them was repaired in 1928 at the Arab Congress, the Zionists were faced with having to confront a much larger Arab block which had enough confidence to put its plans to the HC. At the beginning it was not clear how anti-Zionist this combination would be. The question was answered

at the end of the year with the disturbances at the Wailing Wall at Yom Kippur. It is interesting to note the British government’s perspective of the state of Arab– Jewish relations in 1928. The third High Commissioner, Sir John Chancellor, thought that the relations between the two communities were continuing to improve. UnderSecretary at the Colonial Office Ormsby-Gore wrote: mutual knowledge of the two races and the social intercourse between them is increasing and within ten years time Palestine will see the development of selfgoverning institutions in which Jews and Arabs will cooperate.[9] We have seen how far off the mark this prediction from a senior government official was. Kisch, summarizing this period some years later, had another point of view, and wrote: there was abundant evidence of the persistent efforts made by the Zionist Executive to reach an understanding with the Arabs. There was, and I believe still is, a large body of moderate Arab opinion which would have been ready to follow a lead from the Mandatory Government, in coming to an agreement with the Jews on the basis of the policy embodied in the Mandate. Unfortunately that lead was not given, but on the contrary the government never ceased to maintain the authority and power of the Arab extremist group headed by the Mufti of Jerusalem, Haj Amin al-Husseini.[10] The years between 1924 and 1929 were relatively trouble free, with very few instances of strife between the two communities. The Palestinian Arabs seemed to have accepted that Zionism had arrived, and for the meantime the two communities lived amicably side by side in their everyday lives. This new situation has been described as the period of “equilibrium,” and Kalvarisky is quoted as saying: there is an Arab question that is very serious, and we have to find a solution to it. On the other hand there is no longer a nervousness among us, the wrath has passed, and so is the tendency to believe that it was possible to change the world order overnight. The atmosphere which has been created by the decrease of irritability on both sides has made it easier to search for the proper solution, and correspondingly the hope has grown that such a solution will be found.[11] Even though Kalvarisky did not represent mainstream Zionist thinking, the Jewish press believed that a new phase of Arab–Jewish relations had begun, and Kisch wrote that the “Arab problem was now in process of solution.” On the same subject, Bentwich wrote that after the political alarms of 1923, the year 1924 was one of steady settling down and of general tranquility. The people began to learn by the “eloquent ambiante

des examples” of the good intentions of the Government and by the percolation of Jewish capital throughout the country, of the advantages to be derived from Jewish immigration. They could not fail to recognize the growing material prosperity of the country: and the political leaders were brought to understand the lesson that you cannot agitate interminably for a negative.[12] In spite of the so called “equilibrium” and the relative peace and cooperation between the two communities in this period, the Yishuv leadership had not forgotten the Arab violence of 1920 and 1921, and was fully aware that the defense and security of the Jewish community was precarious and largely depended on Britain continuing to maintain its presence in Palestine. Ben-Gurion wrote that he was one who believed in the great blessing that cooperation would bring to both peoples, but that after what occurred in Jaffa, he believed that what they had suffered at the hands of the Arabs up to then was mere child’s play compared with what they might expect in the future. Therefore they had to try to maintain the mandate regime, as cooperation with the mandatory government was of vital importance, but at the same time he believed that they had to make every effort to find a common language with the Arabs of Palestine. After many years of lying low, as the AE began to regain its former power, the Mufti decided that the time had come to flex his political muscles again, and the events of 1928 and 1929 put an end to any possibility of an improvement in Arab– Jewish relations. It was not until Zionist leaders such as Ben-Gurion and Sharrett became members of the Jewish Agency Executive in the early 1930s that dialogue with individual Arab leaders began to take place on a one-to-one basis. Apart from doing battle with and trying to open doors to the two large Arab political groups, Kisch and the PZE also engaged in other smaller initiatives. In 1924 he and Kalvarisky decided to examine the possibility of building up a new political power base in the rural Arab communities, as against the existing urban political centers. A loose confederation of Arab agriculturalists, known as Hizb al-Zurra—the Farmers’ Party (also known as the Peasants’ Party)—already existed in Nablus, Hebron, Nazareth, and Jenin. The confederation was comprised of a network of village cooperatives headed by the local village sheiks. Although the Farmers’ Party was in contact with urban opposition politicians, there was an overall mistrust of the large urban families, many of whom had been tax farmers in the time of the Ottoman regime. It was commonly believed that these urban politicians had unfairly and dishonestly appropriated most of the government funds which had been earmarked for the Arab community as a whole. This Farmers’ Party cooperated with the government in general, and each group within the party believed that there should be parity between town and countryside. They fought against discriminatory taxes, and demanded that there should be banks providing credit for agricultural enterprises. They also demanded an improvement in rural education.

The Zionists were prepared to consider an alliance with any party or group who firstly opposed the Moslem Christian Association, and secondly did not make antiZionist statements as the New Party had done. The Farmers’ Party was prepared to cooperate with the Zionists at a certain level because they both strongly opposed the Moslem Christian Association, but basically it was a non-political organization with narrow objectives, and therefore could never be a realistic ally for the Zionists In addition, it did not have a unified position or policy line. Each branch decided on its own separate political position, so that the Hebron branch supported the Balfour Declaration while the leaders of the Samaria branch, who brought their political manifesto to Kisch for his approval, were prepared to accept a ratification of the mandate but would not say so openly because it was “deterring the fellahs from joining the party.” On the other hand, there were other branches which were unquestionably anti-Zionist. Kisch, describing two meetings with members of the Peasants’ Party, wrote: a delegation from Abu Ghosh came to see me in connection with the Peasants’ Party Movement which is developing beyond my expectations, particularly if one remembers that I have always declined to give a piaster for the purpose and have confined myself to moral support.[13] On another occasion he met with a delegation of the Hebron Peasants’ Party, which was seeking a loan for its members, and wrote: I told them that they had to wait for the Agrarian Bank which the Government was hoping to create in conjunction with Jewish capital, and then I would gladly support suitable applicants among members of the Peasants’ Party.[14] Evidently there would be funds available but all the financial arrangements would be strictly aboveboard. The CO was anxious to discover the actual strength of the Peasants’ Party. An administration spokesman reported that the Arabs viewed it as “frankly a Zionist creation,” with very few followers. The Chief Secretary, Eric Mills reported that ironically, just at the time that Kisch and Kalvarisky were trying to build up the Peasants’ Party in the Beisan area, the Moslem Christian Association also opened a branch there. Mills wrote that it was a big blow to their aspirations, and that “the personal activities of these two gentlemen at Beisan would be amusing if they were not pitiable.” In another report Ronald Storrs wrote that the Peasants’ Party had failed to make an impact on the Arab political scene because of its “Jewish paternity,” and that by October 1924 the only actions it was involved in was in opposing the influence of the AE. The Zionists had always claimed that increased Jewish immigration would be of great benefit to the Arab community as it would result in the import of a large amount of Jewish capital into Palestine. The Arab leadership, however, did not really accept

this claim and doubted whether much of this imported capital would find its way into the Arab economy. Kisch wrote about an Arab delegation from Jenin which challenged him to produce tangible proof that the Zionist program was in the interests of the Arabs, but he had to admit that he found it extremely difficult to point to any actual achievements: No harbor works, no water supply projects, and no agrarian bank with branches in Arab towns. He set himself the task of raising money to assist rural Arab communities, and in particular wanted to open banks to provide loans to farmers, believing that if they were successful, the Zionists would be “hailed as the saviors of the people,” and this would help to weaken the hold of the malevolent rich effendis over the masses. During his trip to America in 1925, Kisch met Nathan Strauss, a substantial donor to Zionist causes. After having persuaded Strauss to give a large sum to the Keren Hayesod, he was also able to get his agreement that a third of the money was to be spent on gifts of agricultural appliances for friendly Arab villages. Kisch wrote that: “after taking technical advice, I ordered the implements to be sent from New York with happy anticipation of the pleasure this gift would evoke among my friends of the Arab Peasants’ Party.”[15] Whereas the Zionist side claimed that the increased investment in the Arab sector led to an improved attitude toward Zionism on the part of the Arabs, the Arabs themselves carried out a vigorous press campaign accusing the Zionists of trying to penetrate the Arab communities by economic means. In reply the Zionist leadership stated that “the increasingly prosperous Arabs would eventually swallow the Zionist pill,” and pointed out that they could prove statistically that Arab villagers in contact with the Jewish settlements enjoyed a higher standard of living than those who lived in purely Arab areas. Kalvarisky believed that the PZE had succeeded in bringing about substantial changes in Arab–Jewish relations after 1924 as a result of its “continuous and persevering work, which had resulted in the formation of new Arab political parties, which greatly contributed to the weakening of the Moslem Christian Association.” Kisch, however, was less sure whether the credit belonged to the PZE or was due to the weakness of the Arabs in general, because as he said: “the strongest guarantee for the security of our interests is the inability of the Arabs generally to agree among themselves.”[16] Whereas the ZO policy was to improve Arab–Jewish relations and somehow remove the baneful influence of the Arab extremists, there were other individuals and groups who also initiated schemes to draw the two communities closer. In 1925 a group of German intellectuals based in Jerusalem, never more than one hundred in number, founded Brit Shalom (Covenant of Peace), which started out as a study group and later turned into a small political movement. Its leading members were Kalvarisky, Dr. Itzhak Epstein, Dr. Isaac Louria, Professor Hugo Bergmann, and Dr. Arthur Ruppin. The group spoke and corresponded with each other in German, and had few members of Sephardi or Eastern European origin. At its inception the movement called on both Jews and Arabs to give up their nationalistic

aspirations, and emphasized that they did not want a Jewish State but a bi-national commonwealth.. Judah Magnes, the first chancellor of the Hebrew University, is wrongly thought to be one of the founders of Brit Shalom because many of his ideas coincided with theirs, but in fact he belonged to the Ihud group, or in most cases worked alone in an attempt to carry out his own ideas as to how Arab–Jewish relations should be improved. Magnes wrote: I do not believe at all that without Palestine the Jewish people is dying out, or is doomed to destruction. This eternal and far flung people does not need a Jewish State for the purposes of maintaining its existence. Palestine cannot solve the Jewish problem of the Jewish people. The Diaspora is a marvelous instrumentality for the fulfillment of its function as a teacher, and as the dispersion of the Jews is an irrevocable historical fact, Palestine can be a means of making this fact into an even greater blessing. But as for myself, if I could know, that in the course of a long period, a Jewish community of one million souls, one third of the population was possible here, I should be well content.[17] Moshe Smilansky, head of the Jewish farmers’ organization, stressed that Arab– Jewish rapprochement should come about through cultural, social, and economic cooperation. He proposed a Hebrew newspaper for Arabs, an Arabic newspaper for Jews, and shared education and integrated employment. But he thought that Jewish immigration should be tailored to the country’s economic capacity, and the right to purchase land should be available in all parts of the country as long as the rights of the fellahin and tenant were scrupulously protected. Because much of Brit Shalom policy was opposed to the ideas and beliefs of the ZO, there was a fierce ideological debate between the two, and especially on the issue of the need for a Jewish State. The standpoint of the ZO was that without a state, the Jews would always be a one-third minority in their own homeland. On the other hand, Brit Shalom accused the ZO of completely disregarding the rights of the Arab population. Critics of Brit Shalom accused it of having a Diaspora mentality and of being assimilationist, but there were those who thought that this was unfair and that the Brit Shalom leaders were as good Zionists as anyone else. However, they desperately believed that there had to be agreement between the two communities, because the never ending strife between Arabs and Jews would inevitably lead to the collapse of Zionism. Brit Shalom and ZO were engaged in an ongoing debate, and its members also engaged in a great deal of soul searching. A correspondent in the Brit Shalom magazine she’ifotenu asked how they could be sure that a democratically elected legislative assembly with a clear Arab majority wouldn’t lead to the demise of Zionism, and in general the feeling was that negotiations with the Mufti and his party

were unlikely to succeed. Berl Katzenelson said that in his opinion, bi-nationalism was just a camouflage for an Arab State. Although Weizmann himself and the local Zionist leadership were severely criticized by the Brit Shalom, Weizmann wrote to Ruppin in 1926 saying that he was prepared to give the Brit Shalom £200 for the year 5687—1926/27—for the purpose of running evening courses in Arabic and other cultural work “conducive to making better relations between Arabs and Jews.” In a letter to Robert Weltsch, a strong supporter of a bi-national Palestine, Weizmann wrote that his views regarding the Arabs in general coincided with Weltsch’s, but they both knew that it would take a long period of education before the Zionists settled down to realities. He also wrote: the natural increase in the Arab population is about 15,000 a year, and as last year the Jews brought about 10,000 immigrants, how can people possibly speak of ever forming a majority unless enormous efforts are particularly made in the area of raising the necessary funds in order to give the Zionists a “proper position in Palestine.”[18] The ZO could not openly condemn Brit Shalom, because its stated policy was to build bridges between the Jewish and Arab communities, but it was wary of its activities. Kisch, in a letter to Magnes explaining the PZE position, wrote: while it is true that you pay lip service to the establishment of a strong national Jewry in our land, your work and programme tend regularly to deny such aims, whereas I, as Chairman of the PZE, have to downplay Z.O opposition to Brit Shalom lest schisms within the Zionist ranks should be revealed, privately, I am prepared to admit that Brit Shalom is the real conscience of the Zionist movement.[19] Despite this admission, Kisch was not afraid to criticize the movement and in a letter to Ruppin wrote: no one should be blinded by the apparent ease and simplicity of your programme. The programme may be right but it will take many years before it can be played through and that if we can compose and perform a harmonious overture within the next two years I would regard it as a great achievement.[20] Kisch’s greatest fear was that any split in the Zionist ranks would be visible to the opposition, and he strongly believed that Brit Shalom activities might produce such a split. He told the Brit Shalom leadership of the resentment that the Jewish population at large felt toward it, not because of its aims, of course, but because it operated independently of the Jewish Agency and the Zionist Executive along lines which it was felt might have dangerous consequences.

It was evidently important to Kisch that his office should have the final word in negotiations with the Arabs. In 1929, when Magnes and Rutenberg put forward proposals aimed at opening doors to the Palestine Arabs, Kisch accused them of attempting to bypass him and his office. Perhaps Kisch’s real feelings toward Brit Shalom can be gauged from a private note he wrote to Arlosoroff, his successor at the Jewish Agency, at the time he left office. In connection with Brit Shalom’s publication, Jewish-Arab Affairs, he wrote: I object to this publication because it grossly represents the present state of Arab-Jewish relations, thus giving rise to false conclusions and false policy, and also by advertising and making capital out of minor acts of cooperation, it frightens the Arabs and sometimes even the Jews from further acts of a similar nature. In general, although I agree probably with 90 percent of the aspirations of the Brit Shalom, I think that the activities of this society are wholly harmful and prejudicial to the attainment of precisely those aims which it professes to seek. [21]

In view of its severe criticism and rejection of Brit Shalom and its policy, there has to be some doubt as to how strong the ZO’s commitment to working for Arab– Jewish coexistence really was. In 1925 there was another episode which presented the opportunity to test the Yishuv’s attitude to building bridges with the Arabs, this time in the field of joint Arab– Jewish education. Elie Kedourie, a lifelong Zionist, left £100,000 in his will to be spent on education in Palestine or Iraq, without stipulating specifically that it was to be spent solely on Jewish education. Having settled the first question by deciding that the money was to be spent in Palestine, rather than in Iraq, it was decided that the bequest should be distributed in a way which would benefit both communities. The administration director of education, Humphrey Bowman, suggested that an agricultural school should be set up for Arabs and Jews. Initially each group should study separately in their own language, and later they would both study in the common language, English. As regards the practical work and the dormitories and dining rooms, all of the students would mix freely and openly. Bowman received the approval of the High Commissioner and the Colonial Secretary, Leo Amery, but a deputation from the Va’ad Leumi headed by Kisch met Samuel and declared that the Yishuv would not accept any school unless Hebrew was taught throughout. It stated that difficulties such as Shabbat and Kashrut could be overcome, but the cardinal point about Hebrew was not open for discussion. The government needed to accept this demand because if not, the Yishuv would boycott the school and dissuade Jewish parents from sending their children to it. Bowman was both surprised and disappointed when the HC immediately gave in to these demands without trying to reason with the members of the deputation and without showing his personal objection. Amery said that in these circumstances he could not oppose Samuel’s decision in this matter.

A solution to the problem would have been to open two Kedourie schools, with the money to be divided equally between them, but Bowman realized that whereas one school would have been economically viable, it would have been difficult for two schools to survive. He was saddened by the outcome, because he believed that an opportunity to do something concrete to unify the two communities in a small way had been unnecessarily lost. He strongly believed that the matter could have been settled amicably. When Samuel later asked Kisch for his opinion as to how Jewish education should be run in Palestine and how the bequest could have been best used, Kisch stated that the Jews in Palestine understood that the mandatory government had undertaken to build up the National Home, and therefore they were entitled to government assistance to help them build up the education system on national lines. They would have welcomed this assistance, but it was a sine qua non that the language of instruction would only be Hebrew. Mandatory administrations were generally supportive of any private initiative which would bring Arabs and Jews together in order to create the elusive “Palestine Identity.” Kisch himself was in favor of limited joint education projects. There had already been joint law courses set up for Arabs and Jews which had been successful. However, in the case of the Kedourie scheme it was the Yishuv leaders who dug in their heels, and Kisch was not in a position to oppose the Va’ad Leumi. He wrote: the joint law classes have proved advantageous and satisfactory from every point of view. In the sphere of agricultural education, joint instruction would have been still easier to arrange in view of the fact that more time would be devoted to practical work and less to lectures when the language issue is unavoidably to the fore. However in view of the strong representations from the Executive and the Va’ad Leumi in favor of separate institutions, I was forced to support the latter solution.[22] On another occasion Kisch wrote: we should seek, through the teaching of Arabic in our schools and through inculcating a sympathetic understanding of Arab history and culture, to equip the next generation of Palestine Jewry for the radical solution of the question which it may be anticipated will mature for settlement in their days.[23] This was probably his own personal opinion which was not shared by the Yishuv as a whole. In the debate about separate or integrated education, Kalvarisky, who was always looking for ways of bringing the two communities closer together in the field of education, was the chief proponent. The VL Executive in general, however, believed that creating strong Jewish institutions should come before thinking about binationalism. In an impassioned appeal to the VL in May 1925, Kalvarisky said that separate

education was a potentially dangerous breeding ground for anti-Zionism and that a VL decision to separate schools would expose Jewish hypocrisy for all the world to see. He continued: the contradiction between the public declaration of our desire to come to an agreement with the Arabs and our actions in the country are so obvious that it is impossible not to arouse an attitude of lack of faith in us. Of course we never miss an opportunity, whether at Zionist Congresses, Va’ad Leumi meetings, or in the press, to declare that we aspire to common work with the Arabs. Sometimes we are able to fool even the most astute of the “goyim” and to lead them to believe that we really do want to work together and that it is only the mischievous effendis who are rejecting our approaches.[24] Kalvarisky’s comments did not cut much ice with the VL Executive, which stuck firmly to its policy of separate educational institutions. Messrs. Berlin and Schiller, two members of the Executive, said that they saw a real danger in a mixed school which would “expose our children to Arab influences” and another member, Meyuhaus, said that the lesson that had already been learned was that there was no lasting value in this attempt at integration. Among us and the Arabs, nationalism is bubbling over, and if we bring together poisoned Arabs and Jews in one place, the contact will only strengthen the hatred and will bring about dangerous consequences, so that it appears that Mr. Kalvarisky has forgotten that we still need, for a certain period, much caution in matters of education.[25] The Kedourie episode showed that the Yishuv were not yet ready to accept the PZE ideas on joint education, and Kalvarisky’s enlightened ideas were well ahead of their time. He represented nobody but himself. When summing up this chapter, we would have to admit that Kisch had very little success when trying to carry out Weizmann’s instructions to effect a meaningful reconciliation with the Arabs. It was evidently not realized how much power and support the Mufti had, as he continued to dominate events. For a short time the Arab extremist elements were in decline, and the PZE believed that it had a green light to replace the Moslem Christian Association with a new moderate party which was prepared to do business with Zionism. But clearly they had not learned the lesson of the 1923 elections, when they were so badly let down by supposed Arab moderates. As all attempts and initiatives aimed at Zionist–Arab cooperation continued to fail, it became clear that no Arab group was prepared to accept the Balfour Declaration, the mandate, or the concept of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine. Nor did the Arabs want to participate in any of Samuel’s ideas for shared government. What they wanted was their independence, and nothing less. This is not to say that the Yishuv leadership itself was wildly enthusiastic about building bridges with the Arabs. Its inflexible attitude to the Kedourie school proposal and the rejection of Brit Shalom was a clear indication that it saw its sole task in Palestine as being to promote and protect Jewish interests.

An examination of the attitude of the three sides of the Palestine triangle toward the improvement in Arab–Jewish relations in this period shows that the Arabs had no interest whatsoever in making any progress in this area, but from time to time teased the Zionists by giving the impression that maybe it could happen. Kisch and the PZE made an effort to carry out Weizmann’s wishes but could not find a chink in the Arab armor. Liberal elements such as Kalvarisky and Brit Shalom battled manfully to achieve a breakthrough, but once it was clear that the Yishuv itself wasn’t interested in making an entente work there really wasn’t any realistic hope. The British, for their part, should have had a strong interest in the two communities living and working together successfully; however, at no stage during the 1920s did they stop supporting the Mufti and his extremism. At the time of the elections for the legislative council in 1923, and even after 1924 when the Arab Executive temporarily went into decline, the administration showed no interest in supporting an emerging “liberal” group, an indication that it had effectively closed the door against any initiative which might have brought the two sides together. This in itself was an abnegation of the spirit of the mandate and could only lead to division and disruption. After the 1929 Riots there would be no further meaningful cooperation between Jews and Arabs in Palestine in the immediate future. Palestine would not be an integrated country, and the most that could be hoped for was that the two communities might operate separately and live together with the minimum of conflict.

NOTES 1. Hobman, David Eder, p. 185. 2. Kisch Diary, CZA S25 564/1, p. 117. 3. Caplan, p. 206. 4. Kisch to Weizmann, CZA Z4 16050, 24/10/23. 5. Kisch to Weizmann, CZA S25/745, 16/11/23. 6. Huneidi, Broken Trust, p. 176. 7. Kisch to Stein, CZA 74/2421, 8/11/26. 8. Wasserstein, p. 154. 9. Esco, Palestine a Study, p. 490. 10. Kisch, pp. 19–20. 11. Caplan, Palestine Jewry, pp. 185–86. 12. Bentwich, p. 103. 13. Kisch, p. 89. 14. ibid, p. 150. 15. ibid, p. 161. 16. Caplan, p. 90. 17. Esco, p. 581. 18. Ofer (ed.), Letters of Chaim Weizmann, Vol. XIII, p. 4. 19. Kisch to Magnes, CZA S25 3122, 13/1/31.

20. Bentwich and Kisch, Brigadier Kisch, p. 98. 21. Kisch to Chaim Arlosoroff, Michael Kisch, private papers, July 1931. 22. Kisch, p. 200. 23. Kisch to ZO, CZA S25/3050, 15/8/28. 24. Caplan, p. 200. 25. ibid. p. 202.

Chapter 7

The Second and Third British High Commissioners for Palestine Samuel’s message to his successors was that if Britain wanted to avoid violence and bloodshed in Palestine, they would need to keep the Mufti and his colleagues sweet at almost any price. He omitted to point out that this would conflict with stated government policy in support of the Jewish Homeland. It remained to be seen whether later high commissioners would continue to be ensnared in the trap of having to cozy up to the Arabs, or whether they might find a way of breaking loose and reminding all concerned who was really governing Palestine. The ZO and the Yishuv leadership would have liked another Jew to be appointed as the second high commissioner, and put forward suitable candidates such as Sir John Monash and Sir Alfred Mond, but Weizmann and the Zionists no longer held the same sway in Whitehall as they had in the early 1920s, and finally the job was given to Field Marshall Lord Plumer, an outstanding British World War I general.

Lord Plumer, Samuel’s successor.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem The Zionists were apprehensive that the arrival of a top-rank military man might mean a return to another OETA-type regime. Plumer himself was physically unimpressive. He was small, “with a receding chin, ruddy complexion, bushy moustache and monocle.” He wore a bowler hat and carried a furled umbrella—a cartoonists’ delight, and a prototype for the later Colonel Blimp. He had served as governor general of Malta for the previous five years, but knew little about the Middle East and had no experience dealing with Jews or Arabs. He

had no intention of getting involved in sectarian politics, and was not prepared to take any nonsense from either side or to be pushed around. When asked what his policy was, he said: “I have not got one. My duty as High Commissioner is to receive the instructions of His Majesty’s Government, and to carry them out with what exactness I can.” It would have been interesting to know what specific instructions the Colonial Office had given Plumer, if any, regarding the carrying out of its obligations under the Mandate, in view of the fact that at the end of his three-year term of office precious little progress had been made toward pushing the Jewish Homeland project along. It could have been that by 1925 Britain realized that its commitment to the League of Nations was not going to work, and would have been delighted if the whole concept of helping to establish a Jewish Homeland could have been quietly forgotten. Plumer was evidently not being “pushed” by Whitehall to make something happen, which probably suited His Lordship very well, as when he arrived on August 25, 1925 at the age of sixty-eight, he was surely looking for a quiet life. The year 1925, as we saw previously, saw an enormous increase in Jewish immigration from Poland. This was to lead to a serious downturn in the economy and widespread unemployment in 1926/1927. As a result many recent immigrants began to leave the country. In 1927, for example, two thousand more people left Palestine than arrived there, the only year in Zionist history that such an occurrence happened. This crisis had a serious effect on the Yishuv, adding to its fears and insecurity. Consequently, although it was against Zionist policy and very much against his own personal inclination, Kisch had no option but to turn to Plumer and his administration to ask for its assistance, in order that the PZE could help the Yishuv to get over the crisis. Kisch got on well with Plumer. Both of them former high-ranking officers in the British Army, they understood each other and spoke the same language. When Kisch said to the HC: “We are fighting with our backs to the wall,” Plumer’s reply was: “We will be the wall.” In the discussion between the two men as to the needs of the Yishuv, Plumer said that he was well aware of the economic hardship that the Yishuv was going through and had been waiting for Kisch to approach him. As far as he was concerned the Jewish unemployed were part of the general population and the government was responsible for their welfare. He proposed that the government should create certain public works which were outside the agreed annual budget. In the main, this work concerned the building of part of the Jaffa-Haifa highway, which he thought should be carried out by Jewish labor without the need for a public tender. Such an action was somewhat irregular, but Plumer said he would square it with the Colonial Office. Samuel would never have made such an offer as he would have been continuously looking over his shoulder to see what the reaction of the Arabs was going to be. In addition to the assistance from the administration, the Histadrut also helped the unemployed by agreeing to a system of job rotation so that every worker had two or three days’ work a week, and the PZE itself managed to raise money in America

and set up a dole fund which provided small but vital relief payments. At the outset the Yishuv was suspicious of Plumer and thought that he would be yet another pro-Arab/anti-Semitic British officer. When, however, it was seen that he was completely nonpolitical and even-handed, relations became more cordial. Weizmann wrote to Kisch after a meeting with the HC: “Plumer makes an excellent impression. He does not know much about our affairs but he is learning.” Plumer goes down in Zionist history with definite plus marks, other than the lack of any real progress toward the Jewish Homeland during his rule. The Arab leadership, evidently believing that they would soon have him in their pocket, as they had had his predecessor, started by advising him that it was not correct that he should stand to attention during the Zionist anthem—Hatikva—and on another occasion advised him that he should not allow a military ceremony in honor of the Jewish Battalion to be held in the Jerusalem Hurvah Synagogue. In both instances Plumer put them firmly in their places, and made it clear that it was he and he alone who would be making the decisions on such issues. As regards more substantive matters, Plumer was asked by the Arabs in 1926 and again in 1928 to give his blessing to the idea of a legislative council. He, however, stated that “it would be prejudicial to the peoples of Palestine as a whole to attempt to introduce any form of representative government at the present time or for some little time to come.” Whereas he did not elaborate on the meaning of his words “prejudicial to the peoples of Palestine as a whole,” it can be understood that he was aware that such a council would not be in the interests of the Yishuv. On the other hand, he did restore the Arabs’ former system of elected representatives for municipal elections, hoping that this would lead to a greater participation in local government. He did, however, restrict voting rights to those who could show that they had some sense of civic responsibility and awareness of the benefits of such government. Among other things, Plumer was interested to see whether these local authorities would succeed in levying municipal taxes. The whole local electoral system was very much on trial and the high commissioner wanted to see how the Arab communities would respond. However, he was careful to stress that for the present the central government would continue to keep control over education.[1] Plumer’s rejection of the idea of a legislative council caused the administration some problems with the PMC. As previously mentioned, each mandatory authority was obliged to submit an annual report to the PMC in Geneva. In June 1928 the Palestine Chief Secretary Symes was sent to Switzerland as the representative of the British and Palestine governments, and was asked the leading question by the PMC Council as to what steps had been taken by his government to develop representative institutions as required by the mandate. Symes gave a vague reply, explaining diplomatically that “local obstacles had hitherto prevented the institution of a legislative chamber more representative in character.”[2] This seemed to have satisfied the commission members, and the administration was let off the hook for the time being.

One area near to Plumer’s heart was the question of legislation to protect Arab tenant farmers who had been evicted following the sales of land to Jewish buyers. A Transfer of Land Ordinance had been passed by the Samuel administration in 1920, but in the seven intervening years nothing concrete had been achieved to help the farmers. As a result, Plumer instructed attorney-general Bentwich to set up a committee to report on why the legislation wasn’t working and to pass a new ordinance, which came into being in 1929, after he had left. In July 1927 there were serious earthquakes in Palestine leading to a great deal of destruction of property and some loss of life. Most of the victims were from the Arab community, and once again Plumer was instrumental in finding the necessary financial resources to provide full-scale government assistance. Whereas Plumer was a strictly nonpolitical animal, the same could not be said for his Chief-Secretary Symes, the second most powerful official in the administration. Symes had already been working in Palestine for some years as the district officer for Galilee and Samaria and governor of Haifa, and knew the country well, but whereas Kisch considered him to be a strong and capable administrator, he was also of the opinion that he was definitely pro-Arab, and a natural ally of Storrs. Symes had previously been a member of the Arab Bureau in Cairo, most of whose members believed that the Balfour Declaration was a mistake and the mandate couldn’t work. He was also a strong opponent of settlements being allowed to have their own weapons for defense. When Lord Balfour came to Palestine for the opening of the Hebrew University in 1925, he strongly opposed him being given a red carpet reception. After his first interview with Symes, Kisch wrote in his diary: he at once indicated his recognition of the special position which we occupy as the Jewish Agency under the Mandate. It remains to be seen how far Symes will be prepared to go in active support of the National Home Policy, but he understands the policy and recognizes that it is the duty of the Administration to apply it.[3] At a later meeting Symes stated that having served in the country for a number of years, it was clear to him that joint Arab–Jewish institutions could not succeed in Palestine, and that the government should concentrate on separate development. Kisch was happy to hear this, as in that way the government would find it easier to carry out its commitment toward the establishment of a Jewish Homeland. Symes then added, somewhat provocatively, that he was against any preferential treatment being given to the Jews, and the same facilities given to them should also be given to the Arabs. Kisch’s answer to this was that whereas the government had pledged to promote the development of the Jewish National Home to the Jews, as far as other communities were concerned it had only agreed to safeguard their rights and liberties while developing self-governing institutions, which was not the same thing at all. However, he was pretty sure that British officials would not want to recognize the

justice of such a distinction.[4] Notwithstanding Symes’ negative feelings toward Zionism, he had little chance of promoting them to any great extent within the Plumer administration. Plumer’s health deteriorated in the summer of 1928 and he decided to give up his post in Palestine. The three sides of the Palestine triangle regretted his departure, as each of them had recognized his strength and integrity. From the Zionist point of view it had been clearly shown that a British High Commissioner did not have to kowtow to the Palestinian Arabs. A strong man who had any kind of sympathy for Zionism could still help to make the Zionist dream happen. One of Plumer’s last visits was to a number of Jewish labor institutions in different parts of the country. His reason for the visit was to express his appreciation of the courage and discipline shown by Jewish workers in a period of debilitating unemployment. Only in one area did Plumer blot his copybook, a blot which was to have a big impact on the security of Palestine in 1929. Each Palestine administration during the whole mandate period was continually pestered by the civil servants in Whitehall to cut costs and make financial reductions, particularly in the area of the astronomic military expenditure. As Palestine had been quiet for a number of years, Plumer was persuaded that the British military contingent could be reduced to a bare minimum. Therefore he gradually ran down the two paramilitary groups which had been responsible for security—the British gendarmerie, made up of former Black and Tans, and the Palestine gendarmerie, a mixed Jewish–Arab contingent. Their operations were taken over by the regular police force in which very few Jews were accepted. What was left of the Palestine garrison was a single squadron of six armored cars under RAF command and one hundred soldiers. When Samuel came to Palestine in 1920 the total British garrison had numbered twenty-five thousand. Plumer’s thinking as regards back-up was that should there be any serious trouble, the newly formed TransJordan Frontier Force on the Eastern border, commanded by British officers, would be ready to provide immediate assistance, and he could also turn for help to the huge British military base in Egypt. One of Plumer’s admirers said that he himself was worth a battalion and that a practical government would have sent a battalion at least to Palestine when he left. Such a battalion, however, was never sent. Kisch, worried about the projected military cuts, wrote to Symes: this scheme does not take into consideration the situation that will develop in Palestine in the event of a wave of Islamic fundamentalism, or of an Arab uprising. The Arab police cannot be relied upon to protect Jewish lives or property, and the Government is taking an unjustifiable risk in regard to Jewish lives for which they are responsible. I suggest that if the Government is going to go ahead with these proposals, then at least the Jews should be given the opportunity to organise their own security, or a number of Jews should be

allowed to enlist in the Trans Jordan Frontier Force.[5] On the morning of August 29, 1929, when the Arab riots broke out, there were 1,500 policemen in Palestine, of whom 171 were British. Seventy-two of them were stationed in Jerusalem. The Trans Jordan Frontier Force and semi-military mounted rural police crossed the border and were effective in the northeast of Palestine, but there was little else immediately available. The RAF had twelve aircraft in Amman and some armored cars and tenders. Four each of the latter were transferred to Ramleh that morning and later to Jerusalem. Jewish settlements were largely unprotected because the sealed armories containing weapons had been gradually withdrawn between 1925 and 1929. It is most likely that the Arab leadership decision to wage war on the Yishuv in 1928/1929 was influenced by Plumer’s miscalculation as to what force was needed to defend the country. Other than this one slip it is generally believed that the history of mandate Palestine could have been very different had there been more High Commissioners like Plumer. Plumer’s successor, Sir John Chancellor, had had a long and successful career in colonial administration. His previous position was governor of Southern Rhodesia. He knew next to nothing, however, about the Middle East or its particular problems, and was not happy at being given the high commissioner job in Palestine. By 1928 he was nearing the end of his career and was looking forward to a cozy job in Whitehall. There was a gap of four months before Chancellor arrived in Palestine. He was not in situ at the time of the October disturbances, and coincidentally he also was on leave in England a year later at the time of the 1929 Riots. The acting High Commissioner on both of these occasions was Harry Luke, who had replaced Symes as chief secretary. Luke was a British officer with a Jewish father, Mr. Lukacs, an American-Hungarian, and a non-Jewish mother. He was always at pains not to discuss his Jewish blood or the fact that he had anglicized his name. His Jewish connection, however, was well known in the small English community in Palestine and was a source of gossip and amusement. The Jewish connection was of no value to the Zionist cause as Luke himself did not approve of the Balfour Declaration. He had been a member of the Haycraft Commission which looked into the causes of the Jaffa riots, and was quite adamant that on the whole the Zionists were to blame. He was also the assistant governor of Jerusalem for many years under Ronald Storrs, whom he greatly admired. Luke strongly believed that it was necessary to give the Arabs a constitutional role as a matter of urgency, in order to keep them quiet. On this subject Kisch wrote to the ZO: “Mr. Luke appears to be intimidated by rumblings among the Arab population.” When Chancellor eventually arrived he tended to accept Luke’s perspective of the growing strife in Palestine and was seriously alarmed that the repercussions arising out of the incident at the Western Wall had not died down. The country was still very tense. He thought that this would be solved by stating that he was very much in favor of self-governing institutions, even though this contradicted his earlier

statement that he was against the creation of a legislative council in Palestine. Thus he committed his administration to take active steps to establish such a council. The so-called period of equilibrium came to an end on August 23, 1929 with the massacre of a large number of mostly old and religious Jews in outlying towns in Palestine. The lead-up to this had begun ten months earlier with the events at the Temple Mount, but whereas these earlier events were spontaneous and unplanned, the Mufti and the Arab leadership had been planning their revenge during the following year. This would exploit the unrest and aggravate the fragile Jewish–Arab relations which existed in the country. As regards the events of 1928, the area of the Temple Mount and the Western Wall of the Temple in Jerusalem was and is of particular religious significance to both Jews and Moslems, and for many years they had prayed there without any real friction. However, for the Moslem authorities it was very important that it should be clear that it was they who had the authority and overall control of the whole area. The status quo needed to be scrupulously maintained, and if the Jewish worshipers requested any changes in the situation, they could not be made without Moslem authorization. . Guidelines governing the use of the area by Jewish and Moslem worshipers had been laid down by a statement of the CO which read: the Jewish community have a right of access to the pavement alongside the Western Wall, for the purposes of their devotions but may bring to the Wall only those appurtenances of worship which were permitted under the Turkish regime[6] . In fact, those praying at the Wall had been bringing many different kinds of “appurtenances” which were used during their prayers, such as Torah scrolls, and this had obviously stretched the status quo. However, before 1928 neither the Arabs nor the administration officials had been prepared to make an issue of it. On the eve of Yom Kippur in 1928, Jewish worshipers brought a temporary dividing screen into the prayer area, which led the Moslem religious leaders to complain immediately to Edward Keith-Roach, Storrs’ successor as governor of Jerusalem, that this was a blatant infringement of the status quo. As a result, Keith-Roach instructed the beadle that the screen should be removed before the beginning of prayers on the following morning and he received an assurance that it would be done. Keith-Roach also told the police inspector in the area that if in fact the screen were not removed, it was his business to see that it was taken away. What was uppermost in Keith-Roach’s head at this juncture was that Arabs should not be upset, and that it was the Jews who were being provocative —a familiar story. In the event, the beadle did not do what he had promised, and a police inspector came to the Wall in the middle of prayers on the holiest day in the Jewish calendar and forcibly removed the screen, with a rabbi clinging on to it to try to prevent it being

taken away. This indignity was a severe blow for the worshipers present, and the Jewish religious community as a whole saw it as serious infringement of its right to undisturbed prayer. As a consequence, Kisch led a deputation accompanied by the two chief rabbis to Harry Luke, presenting him with a bitter and personal attack on Keith-Roach. Protest meetings were immediately organized all over the country, and the Jerusalem Jewish weekly paper published an article expressing the opinion that the removal of the screen was a blacker spot in the history of mankind than the religious policy of the Inquisition in Spain. In New York there was also a meeting supposedly attended by ten thousand Jews who passed a resolution that “Keith-Roach must go.” Kisch complained to Luke on behalf of the PZE and the Yishuv about the way in which the police department had interfered with the prayers of the Jewish community at the Western Wall. He wrote: I was obliged at the same time to take the initiative in controlling the actions of the Jewish population on behalf of the Executive and the Va’ad Leumi, and I issued a directive to the Jewish community that there should be no protest meeting or demonstration which might lead to a confrontation with the Arabs.[7] Although the event did not lead to any immediate violence, it resulted in the Mufti initiating a political campaign in which he attacked Zionism, stating that he was protecting Arab religious rights which were under serious threat. The reaction to this on the Jewish side was the emergence of an extremist right-wing group, part of the Revisionist movement led by Ze’ev Jabotinsky, whose declared policy was to stand up to Arab extremism and protect Jewish interests. Jabotinsky, assisted by Dr. Joseph Klausner of the Hebrew University, set up a pro–Western Wall Committee in the summer of 1929, and also began to edit the newspaper, Doar Ha’Yom, a publication viewed with some misgivings by the administration, who considered its tone to be provocative and some of its articles to be potentially inflammatory. This in turn led to the Mufti calling on his followers to protect Islam against a threatened Jewish attack. In early 1929 he began to spread rumors that the Jews intended to attack and destroy the holiest of Moslem sites in Jerusalem, the Haram Esh-Sherif. Kisch was concerned about the possibility of a serious clash between the Revisionists and the Mufti’s supporters, and attempted to defuse the situation in a public declaration in which he stated that: while demanding freedom of worship for Jews at the Western Wall, the Zionist Organization reaffirmed its repeated declarations unreservedly recognizing the inviolability of the Moslem Holy places.[8]

His aim was to calm the Jewish community and urge the Yishuv that it would not be in its interest to take provocative or retaliatory action. At the same time he wanted to reassure the Mufti’s supporters that the Jews did not wish to interfere with the Moslems at the Western Wall in any way. The Revisionists derided his efforts and accused him and the ZO of being cowardly appeasers. It wasn’t until the summer of 1929 that matters came to a head. On August 12, 1929 Doar Ha’Yom called on all Jewish patriots to “wake up and unite,” not to suffer the indignity of being prevented from praying at the wall, but “to move heaven and earth in protest against this unprecedented and unspeakable injustice” and finished with the exhortation, “The Wall is ours.” Following that a few hundred Jewish youths marched to the Wall, raised the blue and white Jewish flag, stood for two minutes in silence, and then sang Ha’Tikva—the Jewish National Anthem. In retaliation, two days later two thousand Arabs staged a counter-demonstration. They beat up a Jewish beadle at the Wall and burnt a few Jewish prayer books. Feelings were now very tense in Jerusalem and on August 17, Jewish youngsters playing football in the street kicked their ball into an Arab garden. As a result a fierce row broke out which resulted in a young Jewish boy being stabbed and killed. Six days later, after Friday prayers in Jerusalem the Arabs went to war on the Yishuv and serious riots and bloodshed began. Weizmann, appearing before the Shaw Commission inquiry into the riots, wrote: “we must now await the results of the Commission of Enquiry. It’s not without grave concern that I look forward to this enquiry. We will have to pay heavily for the demagogy of the Revisionists.”[9] Whereas Weizmann saw the activities of the Revisionists as being a major factor in the confrontation, Kisch tended to put all the blame at the Mufti’s door. In a letter to Lord Rothschild on August 28, he wrote: soon after the incident (removing of the screen), the Mufti left his residence on the Mount of Olives and went to live immediately above the Kotel Ma’aravi, there to direct operations in person. Every couple of weeks some new pin prick was delivered, in order to embitter relations between Jew and Arab. Sometimes it was a lot more than a pin prick, as in the case of a new structure built on top of the wall and the new direct communication between the Mosque of Aksa and our praying place on the wall, which disrupted Jewish prayers. The Mufti was responsible for false and most dangerous propaganda . . . The ignorant masses were ready enough to swallow this nonsense, and the Mufti built up a certain popularity for himself as the protector of the Haram-el-Sharif against the Jewish menace.[10] It is claimed that the timing of the 1929 riots was also affected by the opening of Sixteenth Zionist Congress in Zurich, at which the question of the revamped and enlarged Jewish Agency was to be considered. The original Mandate agreement of 1922 had laid down that there was to be a Jewish Agency set up which would act as

an advisory body to the administration, a proposal strongly opposed by the Arabs. Up till 1929 little had been done to implement this proposal, but the Zionist leadership had finally decided that such an agency would be a potentially important political tool, although it was as yet unclear what its actual function would be. As most of the leaders of the Zionist world were in Zurich, the Mufti, always an adroit political operator, realized that this would be a good moment to show the world who had the real power in Palestine. The riots were an exact replica of the progroms the Jews had known in Russia, an orgy of frenzied killing, looting, rape, and destruction of property. Starting in Jerusalem after Friday prayers, the attacks spread to outlying areas where there was little or no police presence. The main targets were Hebron, and Safed, where the Jewish communities consisted of old religious Jews dedicated to Torah study, communities with little possibility of defending themselves against the Arab mob or of fighting back. The total sum of the destruction was 133 Jews killed and 339 seriously injured, and 116 Arabs killed and 232 injured, mostly at the hands of the British authorities. There was also a great amount of damage to property and many Jews were left homeless. Acting HC Luke was devastated by the turn of events and seemed out of his depth and unable to handle the situation. Although he immediately called for reinforcements from Egypt and Cyprus, they didn’t arrive until three days later. Luke enraged the Jewish community by taking the weapons away from Jewish special policemen, and rejected an offer from the PZE to provide five hundred Jewish volunteers to assist with the policing. The Yishuv leadership believed that Luke’s rejection caused the unnecessary death of many Jews. Whereas the administration had adequate forces in the larger cities, they did not have sufficient police reinforcements to send to the outlying districts.. An important political result of the riots was that whereas Chancellor had come to Palestine with no strong feelings about either community, as a result of the riots he, like Samuel, became extremely fearful of Palestine being turned into a battlefield, believing that the next target of Arab rebellion would be the British. In a letter to his son Christopher he intimated that he wanted to go home, and wrote: “I am so tired and disgusted with this country and everything connected with it that I only want to leave it as soon as a I can.” He had come to the conclusion that the Balfour Declaration was a “colossal blunder involving grave injustice to the Arabs, and detrimental to the interests of the Empire.” In the words of Gabriel Sheffer: “This led to an obsessional antipathy to Jews and to Zionism on his part.”[11] Wasserstein described the new HC as being: a discontented, self pitying, lonely suspicious man, aloof towards his subordinates and hypersensitive to criticism. He possessed neither the resourceful political brain of Samuel, nor the benevolence or solidity of Plumer.[12]

In that his brief was to help establish a Jewish Homeland in Palestine, from the Zionist point of view one could not think of a less suitable person to be the British High Commissioner. In the aftermath of the riots, Kisch’s immediate task was to ensure that Jewish refugees were in safe custody and were able to fend for themselves. On September 12 he wrote that in Tel Aviv there were 1,365 refugees who had fled from Jaffa and the government was unable to guarantee their safety if they returned to their homes. Two weeks later he had a meeting with Keith-Roach and Saunders, the deputy commander of police, in connection with seven hundred refugees who had fled from the Old City. When he made the point that it was most important that they should be back in their homes by Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), they completely agreed with this, and pledged their full support and increased police protection. While the Jewish community had suffered terribly during the riots, neither the HC nor his advisors seemed to be particularly interested in their hardship. In particular there was a dire need of substantial financial help, and when Kisch met with Chancellor and the Chief Secretary on September 16, he submitted a demand for compensation for damage caused to Jewish persons and property. Chancellor questioned Kisch about the state of the PZE’s financial resources and Kisch stated that they had approximately £80,000, but that there were talks underway regarding additional funds from America. As a result of this the HC stated that he was hoping to arrange bank loans for reconstruction and that the Palestinian government would be responsible for meeting the interest charges in the first year. However, the Colonial Secretary immediately intervened and stated that: whereas the HC seemed to have jumped in very quickly with an offer, the British Government was not prepared to accept liability for damage caused, and he wished to make it clear that if the Government did in fact pay any compensation, this should not be seen as an undesirable precedent or as giving the Zionists grounds for claiming that by doing so the Palestine Government was admitting liability.[13] He added that any payments of compensation were ex gratia and in conformity with the general responsibility that the administration had under the mandate to facilitate the establishment of the Jewish National Home, so that it must not be assumed that payment of compensation would be confined to Jewish sufferers alone, as they were also getting evidence that in isolated cases Arabs had also suffered from the actions of the Jews. The government eventually agreed to contribute £100,000 toward repairing the damage to Jewish property. The total estimated amount of the damage was £180,000, and it was presumed that the remainder would be raised from outside Jewish sources. Weizmann took it upon himself to obtain the money from European and American Jewry. Whereas the Palestine administration did not admit any responsibility for the

riots, it encouraged the legal authorities to impose the full weight of the law against those on both sides who had perpetrated crimes during their course. Seven hundred Arabs were put on trial for violence and looting, of whom 124 were accused of murder. Fifty-five of them were convicted and twenty-five sentenced to death. One hundred and sixty Jews were also put on trial and seventy accused of murder, of whom two were convicted but whose sentences were commuted to life imprisonment. As regards the twenty-five death sentences, the decision whether to execute or reprieve lay with Chancellor. There had been no executions after the 1921 riots, but on the other side he did not want to be seen as being weak or having condoned violence. Kisch and the PZE thought it better that they remained completely neutral, irrespective of their personal feelings and beliefs. There was one other Jew, Josef Mizrahi Urphali, who had been condemned to death for the murder of two Arabs. On the Zionist side Weizmann and the American Jewish leader Felix Warburg were worried about apparent flaws in the evidence, but Colonial Secretary Passfield said that “The Government is extremely reluctant to see the Jews interfering in this matter in any shape or form.” The Privy Council upheld Urphali’s appeal, but finally Chancellor commuted his death sentence to ten years’ imprisonment. He also pardoned twenty-two of the twenty-five Arabs, leaving only three who would be executed. The executions were fixed for June 17, 1930, and there was considerable agitation on the part of the Arab Executive and the Arab press and the threat of a nationwide strike. As the day approached tension was high and there was a strong police presence. Kisch visited the HC on the morning of the executions and wrote in his diary: I saw the HC this morning. It was impossible not to open the conversation without a reference to what was obviously dominating his mind. I said we all hoped that this would be the last occasion when it would be necessary to carry out executions because of inter-racial conflict. Chancellor said that the decision had given him so much anxiety but he could not allow such crimes as had occurred to pass off altogether without the enforcement of the extreme penalty of the law. He hoped the day would pass off quietly in view of the precautions he had taken and that the executions might subsequently have a beneficial effect as a deterrent. This is a correct appreciation of Arab psychology. The deterrent effect will not operate directly on the masses, but the leaders will be compelled by the masses to give more thought to the consequences of incitement.[14] In fact there were no great disturbances on the day of the executions, and Kisch later wrote that having seen the reports written by the PZE advisors in different towns: “It is impossible to read these reports without appreciating the spirit of objective justice on the part of the British Judges and Magistrates which is generally apparent throughout the proceedings taken as a whole.” Throughout the Mandate period the two issues which were of the greatest importance for the future of Zionism in Palestine were immigration and land

acquisition. At the end of the 1920s the question of land was more important than immigration because with the economic downturn in Palestine and in the world, there was little employment open to prospective immigrants. Regarding land acquisition, Chancellor in the three years that he was in Palestine took it upon himself to organize a campaign which would persuade the government that the “poor Arab” needed to be protected against the machinations of the Zionists, and that it needed to rethink its policy and its commitment to Zionism. Chancellor shared a belief with many other anti-Semites that all Jews were rich and had endless financial resources. He could not see why a Jewish philanthropist should not buy the Western Wall for the Jews, which would settle the ongoing dispute between the two communities. He also believed that other rich Jews should put up the money to pay for the draining of the swamps in Palestine, and was most enthusiastic about the idea, especially as it would not mean any kind of charge on the British taxpayer’s pocket. In his own words he said that he was disappointed that “more effective use was not made of Jewish investments.” For Chancellor land issues were an ideal way of expressing his anti-Zionism. For the Arabs the issue of land sales to Jews was a political hot potato. The Arab leadership strongly condemned these sales, threatened the sellers with violence, and branded them as traitors to the Arab cause. There was, however, a certain amount of hypocrisy in their position Attorney Aouni Abd al-Hadi, a well known Arab figure, worked with Joshua Hankin, a leading Zionist land agent, and helped him to purchase land in Emek Hefer which would entail the eviction of Arab tenants. During the time that the transaction was in progress, al-Hadi went to the High Commissioner and demanded that he prohibit all land sales to Jews. A leading Arab writer, commenting on this, mocked the hypocrisy of those who sell land and speculate in it and afterward shout and protest and demand that the government pass a law that forbids them to sell land. They are like someone addicted to opium who asks people to prevent him from taking the drug, and then when they do so, he complains, “Good God, they are violating my liberty.” These private land sales were outside government control. One of the most important and potentially dangerous byproducts of the sales was that many Arab farmers and tenants became jobless and homeless as a result. Proposed legislation had been in the pipeline for many years, and just before Plumer left he had pushed strongly for the enactment of a Protection of Cultivators Ordinance. The Zionist side agreed with the need to protect the Arab farmers, and Kisch on behalf of the PZE wrote to the administration: we of course, are always careful to make generous arrangements for the benefit of any Arabs who may be living on land which we acquire and the Jewish Agency has always desired that Arab cultivators who have been working on land purchased by Jews should be generously provided for.[15]

The Hope-Simpson Report into available land in Palestine quoted Joshua Hankin, who said: had we desired to disregard the interests of such workers of the land as are dependent, directly or indirectly, on the land of the landlord, we could have acquired large and unlimited areas but this has not been our policy and when acquiring lands it is our ardent wish not to prejudice or do harm to the interests of anybody. We feel it our duty to settle the workers and enable them to continue their agricultural occupation either in the same place or elsewhere.[16] \ Whether this was truly PZE policy, or merely political propaganda is not entirely clear, but it was an established practice that the purchaser should receive the land free of any encumbrances or inhabitants, and that when the deal was concluded the tenants would receive compensation which could either be financial or alternative landholding. This arrangement was usually to everybody’s satisfaction. Zionist land purchasing agencies were continuously on the lookout for land which could be purchased and developed for settlement. Among such areas were the Huleh basin and Emek Yizrael. Another sale of thirty thousand dunams was at Wadi Hawarith, south of Haifa, which the Jewish National Fund had purchased from the Tayan family in 1929. This last purchase led to a bitter confrontation between the PZE and the administration. In principle the British government supported Jewish land purchases, seeing them as a positive step toward the development of the country, and an opportunity to move forward from the traditional Arab feudal society which had existed for so long in the Ottoman Empire. For the most part Chancellor agreed with this aspect of British policy. However, in the case of the sale of the Wadi Hawarith lands, Chancellor suddenly changed his position and said that he was personally going to find the means to minimize or stop these transactions, because of the hardship they were causing to Arab tenants. He then took the matter to the High Court and attempted to get a declaration that the Wadi Hawarith sale was illegal and that no evictions should take place. The court, however, upheld the legality of both the transaction and the evictions. As a result Chancellor countered by immediately enacting the Protection of Cultivators Ordinance, which had been on the verge of passing into law for some time, believing that it would automatically protect evicted farmers. However, the ordinance stated that in order to be protected, an Arab cultivator had to have a legal interest in the land, and most of the Arab farmers who were about to be evicted in this case did not have such an interest and therefore were not entitled to that protection. Chancellor then proposed new legislation, the Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill, which would make the transfer of Arab land to non-Arabs illegal without the high commissioner’s approval. Attorney-general Norman Bentwich strongly opposed this

prospective legislation, declaring it to be racially discriminatory and contrary to the terms of the mandate. The HC was obviously not used to not getting his own way, nor to being thwarted by a Jew—even though he was the attorney-general—and in a personal attack on Bentwich he said: “No Jew really has British interests at heart. Your Jewishness disqualifies you from your post, apart from your avowed Zionism.” The writer Naomi Shepherd described this episode as “the worst clash between any High Commissioner and a Jewish Mandatory official”[17] and even the anti-Zionist Solicitor–General Robert Drayton and others in the chief secretary’s office backed Bentwich’s legal position in this instance. This however was to no avail; Bentwich was shipped off to London on extended leave, and although he fought tooth and nail to remain in the administration, the Arabs were also gunning for him and the powers that be decided that his fifteen-year legal career in Palestine administration was at an end.. Even though the Court had decided that the sale to the KKL was legal, the Fellahin and Bedouin remained on the land as squatters until a decision was made as to their resettlement. In 1930 an eviction order was taken out against these squatters, but Chancellor opposed the order. When this application against the order also failed, Chancellor’s next move was to approach the KKL with a proposal that it should take a portion of the area (6,000 dunams) and reclassify it as public land, so that the government could then lease it to the displaced Arabs. Whereas the KKL was inclined to reject this proposal, Kisch, looking at the issue from the wider perspective realized that as the reports of the two Commissions of Enquiry (Shaw and Hope-Simpson) had not been very friendly to Zionism in their remarks as to available land in Palestine, the government might be tempted to pass legislation which would certainly be against Zionist interests. He therefore put pressure on the KKL to lease the 6,000 dunams to the administration for a period of twenty-two months. The KKL, however, feared that after the twenty-two months its position might be compromised and the administration would find some means of making the situation permanent, allowing the squatters to remain on the land forever. It was therefore inclined to go ahead and carry out the evictions as sanctioned by the courts. Finally, the administration found a plot of empty land for the 259 Arab farmers and their dependents to move into for the time being until the legal situation was clarified. Kisch wrote: “I feel sure we have been right in exercising patience, and not pressing for eviction until a settlement has been reached as to where the Arabs should go.”[18] The Government District Officer Colville, who was also the acting chief secretary in September 1930, requested that a “without prejudice” clause should be inserted in the lease in order to protect the Arab farmers’ legal rights which were about to be discussed in the courts, and that the leases should be made with the Arab Sheiks rather than with individual tenants. The KKL also opposed this suggestion, but by dint

of hard negotiating and persuasion by Kisch and Eliash, the PZE legal representative, agreement was reached on the first point but not on the second. On September 30, three Zionist leaders, Rutenberg, Arlosoroff, and Dizengoff called at Kisch’s office and insisted that the KKL and PZE should settle with the Arabs at all costs. Kisch, however, assured them that although he strongly supported settling with the Arabs, as a director of the KKL, he had a responsibility to the Canadian Jewish community which had contributed over ₤100,000 for the purchase of these lands. Kisch wrote: I am sure that mistakes have been made and seemingly too much time and energy has been spent on looking after Arab squatters, but also the Administration has allowed itself to get into politics, instead of dealing strictly with legal issues. Had this not been the case the present challenge to the KKL’s title would never have materialized.[19] The case of the Wadi Hawarith lands was exceptional because Chancellor, instead of remaining aloof, as would have befitted a high commissioner, made the issue a personal crusade on behalf of the evicted Arab farmers, and at times he got involved in actions which were close to being against the law. Kisch resented this kind of government interference and pressure, and was very critical of Chancellor personally. Following a meeting with Chief Secretary Davis, he wrote: I exposed the true picture of the intrigue and falsehood by which the Wadi Hawarith case has been made to appear almost as Jewish oppression of the Fellahin. There is all the talk of starving Arabs, but no one mentions that these Arabs were allowed to cultivate these lands for a year and a half after the purchase by the Keren Kayemet and that during this period the Keren Kayemet was made to pay the cultivation tax (osher) while the Arabs reaped and retained the whole crop. Nor is it mentioned that the Arabs paid no rent of any kind to the Keren Kayemet for the use of the land, whereas they would have been obliged to pay rent to the previous landowners had it not been for the sale.[20] However he realized that it would not be in Zionist interests to have an open confrontation with the administration, and was instrumental in persuading the two sides enter into a compromise agreement, which was signed in December 1930. Jews and Arabs had been carrying out land transactions for many years and saw no reason why the government needed to get involved in what was basically private business. It was the arrival of Chancellor that led to the administration attempting to pass legislation regulating these sales in order, in Chancellor’s words, to protect the poor Arabs from the Jews. But both the PZE and the administration agreed there needed to be some kind of formal protection for Arab tenants who had been made landless following land sales.

After both the 1920 and 1921 riots the administration had set up a local Commission of Inquiry to look into the circumstances of the disturbances. After the 1929 riots the Whitehall government decided to send a commission from Britain headed by Sir Walter Shaw—whom Weizmann described as being: “half deaf, very slow and of a reactionary and anti-Semitic type.” The Shaw Commission’s brief was to examine the immediate causes of the 1929 riots, and to recommend steps to be taken to prevent a recurrence. The Zionists were convinced that the Commission would exceed its brief, and even though the prime minister had told the House of Commons that political recommendations were outside its terms of reference, it would make far-reaching recommendations intent on influencing government policy. Chancellor, for his part, welcomed the Commission and presumed that its report would be of great assistance to him in his anti-Zionist campaign. The ZO, represented by the PZE, was hopeful that the commission, as well as putting the blame for the riots on the Arabs, would find that the administration had badly mismanaged its duty to protect its Jewish citizens, and that Harry Luke in particular would be blamed personally for failing to handle the crisis satisfactorily. In addition it strongly felt that the Mufti should be charged with inciting his Arab followers to carry out a pogrom against the Yishuv. Whereas the Commission was forced to admit that the Jews were the innocent party and had been subjected to unprovoked Arab attacks, it would not attach any specific blame to the administration, nor to Luke or the Mufti—a classic case of closing ranks. The PMC in Geneva, however, as mentioned previously, reacted strongly to the commission’s “whitewash,” stating that it could not accept that the riots were unpremeditated, and accused the British of being unprepared. Apart from its verdict on the causes of the riots, the Commission, as predicted, took the opportunity to play a political role and put forward the following suggestions as to how the mandate should be run in the future. Among the suggestions were: 1. 2. 3. 4.

5. 6.

The Government should issue a clear statement as to its policy concerning immigration and land purchase. The eviction of peasant farmers whose land was being sold should be suspended until the results of an agricultural survey were made known. The League of Nations should be asked to appoint a committee to look into the dispute over the Western Wall. The relationship between the Jewish Agency and the government should be reexamined and the government should affirm that the Jewish Agency had no share in the government of Palestine. Troop deployment should be maintained at its present level. There should be an examination of policing operations in Palestine. Conor Cruise O’Brien, commenting on the Shaw Report, quoted Christopher

Sykes as follows: “All the Shaw Commission’s recommendations have something of a pro-Arab, anti-Zionist tendency.” And he himself added: “this is rather remarkable given the fact that what the Commission was actually inquiring into, was a massacre of Jews by Arabs. But the report was in line with the Colonial Secretary’s thinking.”[21] The government was delighted with the findings and recommendations of the commission, which it wholeheartedly accepted. The one recommendation which it immediately took on board was that a thorough inquiry into the land situation in Palestine should be carried out as a matter of urgency, and a decision was taken to entrust this to an individual, Mr. John Hope-Simpson, rather than to a commission. Chancellor welcomed the setting up of such an inquiry, and was also gratified to hear that evictions were to stop for the time being. In June 1929 a Labour government came into office under Ramsey MacDonald. Weizmann and his Zionist colleagues generally enjoyed a good relationship with the Prime Minister, but the new Colonial Secretary, Lord Passfield, formerly Mr. Sydney Webb, was both anti-Semitic and anti-Zionist, and he and Chancellor saw very much eye-to-eye on the need to thwart Zionist plans in Palestine. In this they were joined by Hope-Simpson, who it turned out was a good friend of the Passfields. From 1929 till 1931, therefore, there was the unique situation of a trio of top government officials combining to openly oppose the two most important pillars of the mandate agreement, immigration and land sales. Hope-Simpson’s (H-S) brief was to prepare a report on immigration, land settlement, and development. Zionist leaders hoped that in spite of being very close to Passfield, he would carry out an honest and fair evaluation of the land and immigration situation in Palestine. However, what they had not calculated was that immediately after arriving in Palestine he was “nobbled” by Chancellor, and for the whole of his nine-week stay in Palestine he was Chancellor’s guest and lodged at Government House. In this case it would be very likely his report would reflect much of Chancellor’s anti-Zionism. As a prelude to Simpson’s arrival, the CO made a controversial decision which it must have known would antagonize the Yishuv. H-S arrived in Palestine on May 19 and a week before, the administration announced that it had granted 3,300 immigration certificates for the following half yearly period. However, two days later Kisch was informed by the chief secretary that on the instructions of the CO, the high commissioner had withdrawn 2,350 of these certificates, and that all further labor immigration was to be suspended until after the conclusion of the Hope-Simpson investigations. Kisch lodged a formal complaint with the HC, pointing out that this was a serious infringement of Jewish rights under the mandate, as for the first time political rather than economic considerations were being taken in the regulation of immigration into Palestine. Chancellor would not accept this point and said that whatever Hope– Simpson might decide, the government had to be consistent in its policy, and that this step was completely justified in light of the economic situation in Palestine. Weizmann immediately protested to the prime minister, to his son Malcolm, with

whom he had a close relationship, and to Dr, Drummond Shiels, under-secretary for the colonies at the CO. In addition, he wrote to the PMC in Geneva pointing out that this was a “flagrant breach of the Mandate” and threatened to resign. Ben-Gurion also cabled a protest to the British Labour prime minister on behalf of the Histadrut. A possible reason for this decision to halt Jewish immigration was that an Arab delegation had arrived in London in March 1930 in order to persuade Passfield to stop immigration completely, and Passfield believed that he could partially satisfy their demands by restricting immigration at least during the period of the Hope-Simpson inquiry. Consequently he told Chancellor that: in view of what was said to the Arab Delegation it appears essential that, without anything in the nature of a actual prohibition of immigration even temporarily, efforts should be made to restrict new arrivals within narrowest possible limits during next three or four months.[22] Consequently the Zionist protests against this decision were rejected, although it was made clear that this was a suspension rather than a cancellation, and that immigration and land transfer problems would have to await the H-S Report, which would be published after his inquiry. In some respects the timing of this government initiative was unfortunate, as coming before the H-S visit it resulted in an atmosphere of tension and antagonism toward the administration. In order to assist H-S and to establish a good working relationship with him, the Jewish Agency appointed a special Colonization and Immigration Committee, which included many of the leading and most experienced members of the Yishuv including Ruppin, Hoofien, Arlosoroff, Smilansky, and Granovsky, whose job it was to liaise with him and ensure that he got all the technical information and statistics he needed. Kisch made himself constantly available, as he was particularly concerned that HS should receive a full and balanced account of the available land and the prospects for development and settlement. On May 27 he informed Albert Abramson, the Commissioner of Lands, whose department was responsible for the enquiry, that H-S was getting information which misrepresented the true situation, and asked that his (Kisch’s) office should be given an opportunity to examine all of the material which was to be submitted to the enquiry. H-S met both the PZE and the VL, which it was hoped would give him a “sympathetic understanding of the general aspects of Zionism.” He also spent four days with Ruppin, the PZE expert on land development. After this trip he said that he had been very impressed with the organization of the Jewish colonies. H-S was, however, disturbed at the number of Arabs who had been dispossessed and made landless as a result of Jewish land purchases, and he saw the Zionists as having the primary responsibility for dealing with this problem. Kisch, who was leaving for England in July, had two last meetings with H-S before he left, and got the impression that he was particularly unhappy about the

situation of the Arab Fellahin, although he admitted that in many cases they were being exploited by Arab landowners. He was also unhappy at the clause in the Keren Kayemet leases prohibiting Jewish tenants from employing Arabs. Whereas Kisch wrote in his diary that he thought he had done everything possible to help the enquiry, he also wrote: I shall call to take formal leave of Hope-Simpson who has so much of our future in his hands. In so far as my own province is concerned, I think I can claim to have done everything possible with regard to the investigations.[23] In another letter to S. J. Hoofien, a Zionist colleague and member of the Colonization and Immigration Committee, Kisch wrote that he was worried that HopeSimpson might be enveloped in a fog of misrepresentation which would arise from Chancellor and others, and that he had already developed a strong feeling of sympathy for the poor Arab whom he believed to be the underdog—a characteristically English tendency.[24] Whereas the Zionist side believed and hoped that a fair and honest report would emerge from an honest and reasonable man, they would have been interested to read a letter sent by H-S to Chancellor after the former had returned to England. The letter read: I see that Weizmann’s decision in connection to myself is due to certain remarks in my letter to Passfield. In one of his articles I saw that although I was the bugbear, you were the true enemy and that things could not go properly until they obtain your removal from Palestine. Truly they are an extraordinary people, pertinacious, clever and unscrupulous. They are also powerful. It is useless to deny their political power, though one realizes that it is non-founded. In fact it is based on the weakness of the authority with which they have to deal. [25] Irrespective of what they thought about H-S himself, the Zionists derided the lack of professionalism in the report. H-S had been in Palestine for a very short space of time and much of his survey had been carried out by aerial photography. In addition they strongly questioned the accuracy of his figures. His estimation of the cultivatable land (6,544,000 dunams) was some 40 percent lower than a previous estimate carried out only a few months earlier by the land commissioner, and it was therefore apparent that his definition of the word “cultivatable” was different from that of other experts. He had stated that the minimum area required by an Arab farmer was 130 dunams, but that the total amount of land available divided by the number of Arab families would allow each farmer ninety dunams, which was insufficient. According to his estimation 29.4 percent of Arabs living in rural communities were “landless,” and whereas there might be land available for another twenty thousand Jewish immigrant families, after that there would be no more. However, he stated that because the

Jewish land agencies were holding land and not allowing it to be developed, the immigrants would only be allowed in if this land was made properly available and more efficient agricultural methods were used. Among other contentious parts of the report was a claim that the boycott of Arab labor by Jewish employers was contrary to the provisions of the mandate and dangerous to the future of the country. The report also was not optimistic about the development of new industry, especially as industry was in Jewish rather than Arab hands. H-S strongly opposed the Histradrut policy of excluding Arab workers from its membership and he also believed that immigration schedules should take the rate of unemployment among Arabs into consideration. As regards the suspension of immigration in May 1930, H-S justified it on the grounds of the economic crisis in the country and the level of Arab unemployment. The report finished with suggestions that there should be an overall development plan for Palestine, and that a director should be appointed immediately. It also offered suggestions as to how immigration procedures could be tightened up and how agricultural methods could be improved.. It is clear that H-S’s aim had been to improve the lot of the Arabs by correcting the imbalance between Arabs and Jews. The Zionist leadership was surprised by his open criticism of the Histadrut and the land agencies, and also noted his hint that legislation might well be passed which would put an end to land sales, and an end to Arabs being dispossessed of their land. However, because of the suspect figures that he quoted the ZO on the whole did not take his report very seriously Both the Shaw Commission and the Hope-Simpson Reports had proved to be seriously anti-Zionist. Consequently they had made no reference and had given no credit to the remarkable development that the Yishuv had achieved in the first ten years of civilian rule. Probably it was unrealistic to have expected such recognition by the British government or its agents, and as a result, the Yishuv more and more began to feel that nothing positive was going to come out of its relationship with Great Britain, which it had just seen was not even willing or able to protect it against Arab massacres. Zionism suffered three blows from the British government and its nominees after the 1929 pogroms: the Shaw Commission Report, the Hope-Simpson Report, and the (Command Paper 3692), which the Secretary for the Colonies hastened to publish on the same day as the H-S Report was published. Even though the Zionist side had completely denounced the badly flawed H-S Report, the White Paper backed most of the report’s criticism of various Zionist bodies, but paid little attention to the positive suggestions as to how to put the country straight. It repeated the need for restrictions on immigration and land purchases, and whereas it backed the Development Plan, it only concentrated on how it would improve the condition of the Fellahin. On one hand it criticized the ZO for failing to cooperate with the government, but on the other hand stated that the Jewish Agency should not consider itself as having any governmental role. It once more called for

self-governing legislative institutions, and reiterated the fact that there was no State land available for settlement and that Zionist land agencies were “sitting on” land. As regards improved agricultural methods requiring substantial investment, the White Paper stated that the British government was ready to carry out this investment, but because of its present commitment to defense requirements in Palestine no funds could be made immediately available, so that in the meantime Jews and Arabs should learn how to live together peaceably. The White Paper agreed with Hope-Simpson that the Histadrut was a major influence on the “character of immigration,” and that there should be stricter controls on it, in order to prevent increased Arab unemployment. As a result of this full frontal attack on Zionism and its institutions, Weizmann felt that he had no choice but to resign from the presidency of the Jewish Agency, stating that this was “an emphatic protest against a one sided and unjust criticism of our work, and my refusal to accept a policy which is in direct contradiction to the solemn promise of the British nation and the text of the Mandate.” This was followed by the resignation of Lord Melchett, Joint Chairman of the Council of the Jewish Agency, and Felix Warburg, Chairman of the Administrative Committee of the Jewish Agency. These three men represented the top echelon of the ZO hierarchy. Melchett in his letter of resignation stated that: “the grotesque travesty of the purpose of the Mandate given in the Government’s Paper can only be described as an insult to the intelligence of Jewry and a deliberate affront to the Mandates Commission.” In his reaction to the White Paper, Kisch stated that in his opinion the British government had been mistaken and unfair: it had branded Zionism as something extreme, unjust, and oppressive. It had only dealt with the 160,000 Jews living in Palestine and ignored the rights and necessities of the whole Jewish people throughout the world, although this was specifically recognized in the mandate as part of the fundamental basis of the conception of the Jewish National Home. He stated that the whole document had an anti-Semitic tone, which was possibly a reaction by the CO to attempts by certain MPs to persuade it to take a more moderate position. The anti-Zionist attitude emanating from the CO was also a clear reflection of the views held by Colonial Secretary Passfield and his wife Beatrice Webb, both of whom were openly anti-Semitic and anti-Zionist. The Bentwiches wrote: Mrs Sidney Webb’s influence with her husband may have had its part. From her earliest activities in social questions when she prepared a study of immigrant Jews in East London, she had a conviction that “the clever, purposeful Jew was a danger to the less intelligent native population.”[26] Whether or not Passfield was particularly influenced by his wife, there was the feeling that the two of them had embarked on a personal anti-Zionist crusade. Lord Plumer wrote to Bentwich that the tone of the White Paper was “unnecessarily rude,”

and Weizmann also wrote that he felt a particular grievance toward Passfield because of the “the depth and persistence of his hostility” to the Zionist cause. The Shaw Commission Report, the Hope-Simpson Report, and the Passfield White Paper were never translated into positive action and quietly faded away. What was worrying in their appearance on the political stage was that they had been wellaired publicly without provoking any serious opposition, and this seemed to be an indication of how far the British commitment to Zionism was also fading away by the early 1930s. The ringmaster who was involved in all three initiatives was High Commissioner Chancellor. He had set out to change British government policy in Palestine and nearly succeeded. Kenneth Stein, in his book The Land Question in Palestine, wrote: no single person influenced the ideological shift more in 1930 than did Sir John Chancellor. The High Commissioner made recommendations to further Palestinian-Arab self government, to restrict Jewish immigration, to protect Arab land alienation, and to protect the fellahin displacement. His personal strong antiZionist disposition helped to formulate the majority conclusion of the Shaw report, the Hope-Simpson Report, and the Passfield White Paper.[27] With the passing of the Passfield White Paper Chancellor must have imagined that everything that he had connived at had been successful and that he had been instrumental in changing the British government’s commitment to Zionism. However, both he and his two collaborators were to be disappointed. We will see in the next chapter how the Zionists’ political roller coaster went into action and succeeded in restoring the situation preChancellor, much to his chagrin. The instrument which reversed the White Paper was the letter which Prime Minister MacDonald had written to Weizmann, which was read out in the House of Commons. Chancellor’s immediate reaction was that this would lead to serious conflict between Palestinian Arabs and Jews, but whereas Weizmann and Kisch anxiously awaited some kind of a backlash, in fact their fears were unfounded. Chancellor, who was due to retire at the end of the summer of 1931, had dreamed of crowning his long diplomatic career with some significant success in Palestine. However, when the White Paper fell through he looked around desperately for something else which would ensure that his term of office left some mark on Palestine. He had three possibilities in mind: the first was to explore once again the possibility of setting up a legislative council, an idea which had been mooted in 1923 and 1928 but had never come into fruition. The second was to finally enact the Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill which would severely restrict land sales, and the third was to set up the Development Council which had been proposed in the H-S Report and which had received the blessing of the Colonial Office. The first of these two projects were definitely against Zionist interests, and buoyed by its success in emasculating the White Paper, the ZO swung into action in

order to thwart Chancellor’s planned swan song. The general feeling about proposals for a legislative council was that they were not really serious, but might be a bargaining weapon to be employed in political negotiations. The Passfield White Paper stated that “a measure of self government should be taken in hand without further delay,” and it was envisaged that the council would consist of the HC and ten officials, plus twelve other members elected by secondary voters. Kisch himself was not averse to discussing such a council, which would at least be an opportunity to sit down and negotiate face-to-face with the Arab leadership, but he knew full well that the Arabs had no intention of considering the proposals seriously, as their sole aim was to destroy the Balfour Declaration and the mandate provisions. However, in order to take the matter further, in November 1930 he proposed a round table conference to discuss constitutional reform. Whereas the British government in general and Passfield in particular were unenthusiastic about such a conference, the CO, with the aim of placating Chancellor, sent Under Secretary of State for the Colonies Drummond Shiels on a ten-day tour of inspection to Palestine. He quickly realized how strong the Yishuv opposition was to such a council, and as a result of Zionist pressure wrote to Passfield urging him to change his decision about a legislative council. Passfield, however, said that it was too late as he had already informed Weizmann, and that he couldn’t let Chancellor down as the HC had persuaded the CO that “an elected council however troublesome was best, and any how necessary.” In November 1930 Leonard Stein, the political secretary of the ZO, confirmed that there was a PMC stipulation which obligated the development of self-governing institutions, but the Jewish Agency position was that as long as the leaders of one part of the community persisted in repudiating the fundamental charter of the country, negotiations with them must be rejected. Later on he wrote that while the Jewish Agency had been disposed to cooperate in the past, the attitude of the Arabs and the government had forced it to change its position, and in view of the government’s latest pronouncements, “The Jewish Agency could not but view with grave misgivings the establishment, as a sequel to the recent disturbances, of a legislative council in which the Jews would be hopelessly outnumbered.” Although Weizmann strongly opposed the idea of a legislative council, he could not say so openly if the government clearly supported it. What he did say was that he did not want it to be set up by an edict from the CO without prior preparation, because he believed that this would lead to a boycott by both the Jews and the Arabs, or a battleground between the extremists. But he did feel “that the present time is propitious for a sincere attempt at reaching understanding between ourselves and the Arabs,” and he himself supported Kisch’s idea of a round table conference between the two sides as the first step. In a later letter to the ZO, discussing what the policy should be regarding a legislative council, Weizmann wrote that he was not willing to discuss the matter at that time, and it should be left to the Executive which would be elected at the

forthcoming Zionist Congress to deal with the matter. Thus Zionist policy was to continue delaying and obstructing any progress toward setting up such a council, and Weizmann’s reference to a round table conference was no more than a “smokescreen,” as the Zionists knew the Arabs would not sit down with the Zionists at any conference. In some respects, Weizmann’s stonewalling tactics rebounded on himself, because at the 1931 Zionist Congress he was soundly criticized for not having resolved the question of a legislative council, with the Revisionists having no hesitation in attacking him for what they referred to as his lapse of judgment. Chancellor’s second hobby horse was his proposals for land legislation. Previously he had been frustrated in his efforts to enact such legislation by the Zionists and his own legal advisers, but he still had ambitions to amend the 1929 Protection of Cultivators Ordinance and to enact the Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill, which would regulate the transfer of land and protect the rights of displaced Arab farmers. In the period immediately after the publication of the White Paper, Chancellor was involved in promoting six different land bills in Palestine. Passfield, believing that he had been given a green light to carry out the proposals contained in the White Paper, advised Chancellor to proceed with his plans. However, the Cabinet Committee which had been set up to consider the implications of the White Paper ruled that no legislation would be passed until the end of the committee sessions. As a result, Passfield changed his instructions to Chancellor and told the HC that he needed to consult with the Jewish Agency in Palestine as to any proposed land legislation. This must have been a blow to Chancellor’s pride. The HC received a further setback when the MacDonald letter of February 1931 stated that Jewish settlement was not to take a subordinate position to the rights of other sections of the population as the White Paper proposed, and that there was nothing in the White Paper which prohibited land transfer. The brakes had been temporarily put on Chancellor’s activities, but in principle the British government was still concerned about the question of “landless” Arabs, and felt the need for appropriate legislation. On the Zionist side there was a claim that the number of Arabs actually displaced had been greatly exaggerated, and that in many cases the Jews should not take the complete blame for this situation, as the Arab vendors of the land were equally responsible. Chancellor, however, continued to push for new land legislation. He intended to include in the Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill a proposal that all land transfer transactions and all mortgage transactions should be subject to the final approval of the HC, which would effectively give him the ultimate control. In a proposed amendment to the Protection of Cultivators Ordinance, he also wanted to prevent any secret land deals by insisting that the administration should be involved in all transactions. He also proposed that displaced Arab farmers should be compensated with alternative plots of land rather than money.

The Jewish Agency reacted strongly to these proposals. It opposed the “absolute autocratic character” of the Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill which would give the HC excessive control, and pointed out that there would be enormous and unnecessary bureaucratic delays, which would cause uncertainty and lack of security in the land market by artificially introducing a third party into the proceedings. The Jewish National Fund (KKL), for its part, believed that such legislation would bring its purchases of land and purchases by the Jews in general to an end. In order to further frustrate Chancellor’s machinations, the Jewish Agency pushed for all decisions to be taken out of his hands and be made only in London. In addition, as the whole question of Palestine was being discussed between the government and the Jewish Agency in the Cabinet Committee from November 1930, Weizmann suggested that no discussions should take place in Palestine at all, and whereas Chancellor had been told to consult with the PZE about proposed legislation, it was now stated that such consultations should only be concerned with the application of any new ordinance and not with its composition. Weizmann therefore instructed the PZE not to get into any kind of negotiation with Chancellor, as this would give him the opportunity to say that he had already obtained the approval of the Jewish Agency and would complicate the discussions in London. Kisch, in a meeting with the HC in December 1930, informed him that he was not prepared to communicate with the administration about matters being discussed in London. In the period between the end of the first Cabinet Committee in February 1931 and the subsequent committee in May, the Jewish Agency continued negotiations with the CO on the subject of land legislation. It was clear that there would be some amendments to the Protection of Cultivators Ordinance, but because of the CO’s reluctance to have any confrontation with the Zionist side, the government accepted its suggestion that it should compromise on its demands for control of land transfer and instead concentrate on the Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill, and in particular on the question of “landless Arabs.” In April 1931, as part of an obvious delaying tactic, Kisch said that nothing further could be achieved in the matter of land legislation until after the Zionist Congress in June/July, and it gradually began to be realized that the Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill would be taken out of Chancellor’s hands and would be dealt with by the director of the new Development Scheme, by which time there would be a new high commissioner. Although the amendments to the Protection of Cultivators Ordinance were approved by the CO on March 13, the bill was not promulgated until the end of May, and there was a series of ongoing discussions and confrontations between the administration and the Jewish Agency in Palestine up till the last minute before it became law. In a meeting with the HC, Kisch said that there had to be a legal distinction between tenants with a legal status and mere workers, although in fact Jewish public bodies were prepared to recognize the rights of those workers who had been in their jobs for a considerable amount of time.

Chancellor, however, was unwilling to recognize such a difference, and stated that every evicted Arab cultivator would be a potential troublemaker, “a highwayman,” even though the roots of the problem really emanated from the time of the Ottoman regime in Palestine. In conclusion, Kisch told Chancellor that his major concern, as the representative of the British government and its policies, should be to balance not only the future of the Arab cultivator, but equally the development of the Jewish National Home. Chancellor’s crusade on behalf of Arab farmers was not supported by the Arab leadership, as many Arabs were profiting from the existing situation, nor did the CO back his efforts wholeheartedly, fearing political complications. The Zionist side still had good connections in Whitehall, but was not sure how much support Chancellor actually had for his land legislation proposals. Its policy of challenging and frustrating Chancellor at every stage of his proposals did succeed in minimizing the effect of both items of the projected legislation. The Transfer of Agricultural Land Bill was put on hold for the time being and even though the Zionists had not been able to make major changes in the proposed amendment to the Protection of Cultivators Ordinance, during the course of the negotiations, they did succeed in getting the bill redrafted twice, and it ended up very differently from the amended ordinance which Chancellor proposed in November 1930. The Development Scheme was H-S’s initiative in September 1930. He saw it as a vehicle which would assist the ailing Arab agricultural situation, and at the same time, curtail Jewish settlement. He himself wanted to be its first director, as he planned to use the position as a springboard from which he could succeed Chancellor and become the fourth British High Commissioner in Palestine. Originally the British government had agreed to guarantee a loan in the sum of £7.2 million in order to promote the scheme. This was soon reduced to £2.5 million. The objects of the scheme were to assist the landless Arabs to discover how much land was available for agriculture, and to introduce new and efficient means of agricultural development. The Zionists opposed the scheme, in essence because the whole of its thrust was directed to helping only the Arabs, whereas the MacDonald Letter stated that land problems in Palestine were not exclusively confined to the Arab sector, and equal consideration had to be given to Jewish settlement and the Government’s mandatory obligations. As a result of the fruitful relationship between the Jewish Agency representatives and the chairman of the Cabinet Committee, Foreign Minister Arthur Henderson, in April of 1931 a second committee was set up to consider future land policy in Palestine, under the chairmanship of Craigie Aitchison, the attorney-general for Scotland. This time it was decided to invite the Palestinian Arabs to send a delegation to the talks. Chancellor, who was in favor of the Arabs participating, invited the Arab Executive to meet with him and promised that the administration would finance the expenses of the delegation. However, the Arab Executive said that it was not prepared to attend any meeting which would:

1. 2. 3. 4.

imply its recognition of the Jewish National home policy; be based on the MacDonald Letter; take place outside Palestine; and necessitate Arabs sitting with Jews.

Whereas it looked as if the chances of their attending were very remote, when put to the vote the margin between going and not going was only one vote. Kisch was hopeful that if the Arabs could have been persuaded to attend, they would have changed their attitude once they were in London, and would have been more reasonable. Having heard the news that they would not attend, he wrote that he was sure that with a little more patience and encouragement the Arabs in Palestine could have been bought to change their mind, and that this was yet another case of the absence of persistence on the part of the government when it was a question of bringing Jews and Arabs together. As a result of the Arab Executive refusal to accept the invitation, the government and the Jewish Agency representatives met in London and the Arab Executive and Chancellor met in Jerusalem. In their meetings with the HC the Arabs put the following conditions on the table: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

There should be an equal number of Jews and Arabs on the Development Council. The Director of the Council should have an Arab deputy. Resettlement of landless Arabs should be a priority, and the definition of ““landless”” should not be that given in the MacDonald Letter. No money should be made available for Jewish settlement until all the landless Arabs had been resettled. There should be an agreed minimum number of dunams made available for each Arab family, based on the natural growth figure of the Arabs. The enactment of land legislation would mean the end of sales of Arab land to Jews.

These conditions proved so intransigent and inflexible that Chancellor was unable to consider the negotiations seriously, and eventually the talks broke down. The last final straw for the Arabs came on August 16, when the sum that the British government was prepared to invest was reduced to £50,000; at that juncture the Arabs rejected the Development Scheme. Meanwhile, negotiations began in London, and it was clear to the Jewish Agency side that the British government, which was due to appear before the PMC in Geneva in July in order to submit its annual report, needed to be in a position to announce some positive progress regarding the Development Scheme. In this case it needed a quick positive result from the discussions. This put the Zionists in a strong bargaining position, and in the absence of the Arab delegation, Weizmann and his colleagues were able to ask for far-reaching concessions from the government side. Among these concessions were an insistence

that the Jewish Agency be consulted on the appointment of the director of the scheme, and that no way would the discredited Hope-Simpson be considered for the position. Secondly, it was agreed that even though the scheme had been officially agreed in June, it would not be made public until after the Zionist Congress, in order to avoid a debate or criticism at the Congress. Kisch reported that the HC could not understand why the Jews were so suspicious of the Development Loan, because the government’s offer to provide a loan of £2.5 million was an act of generosity which some members of the British government believed went far beyond the dictates of the mandate. To this Kisch replied that the Jews doubted whether a fair share of the money would actually be spent on Jewish settlement, and in any case a disproportionate share of the consequent taxation would be put on the Zionist side. The original concept of the Development Scheme was that the Arabs would get the majority of the money available, but at this juncture Kisch took the opportunity to raise the issue of just how many Arabs were in fact “landless,” because according to the Jewish Agency investigations into the figure of 29.4 percent of Arab village families, as quoted by Hope-Simpson, this was nowhere near the mark, and it insisted on a more accurate and scientific evaluation, as the whole basis of the scheme rested on this figure. Very soon after Chancellor and Kisch departed in the summer of 1931, it became clear that the Development Scheme was not going to work and it was eventually abandoned. As its whole essence was concerned with dealing with the distressed situation of the Arabs it was finally realized that it wasn’t so distressing, and there weren’t many of them who had been dispossessed. At the same time the government made a decision to withdraw its promise of financial assistance, and the final analysis was that the whole concept was merely Chancellor’s brainchild and after his departure nobody else had any interest in continuing it. Chancellor left Palestine believing that the Jews were “an ungrateful race” and the Arabs were “like children and very difficult to help.” Not long after his arrival in Palestine, Strauss Street in Jerusalem, originally named after the great American benefactor Nathan Strauss, was renamed Chancellor Avenue. In the early days of the State of Israel in 1948 the street reverted to its original name. Israel had no reason to remember or applaud Chancellor. The contrast between High Commissioners two and three was immense. Plumer played with a straight bat, giving no quarter to either community and was respected and remembered fondly, at least by the Jews. Chancellor was obsessed with the need to oppose Zionist progress in order to protect the Arabs. The Yishuv should have been grateful that at least, despite his efforts, he was not able to influence the Whitehall policy makers in any significant way. It has been suggested that the appointment of Chancellor as High Commissioner was either an unfortunate mistake by the CO or a deliberate attempt to appoint

someone who would counterbalance Britain’s sympathy for the Jewish Homeland. However, it should be remembered that the colonial secretary responsible for his appointment was Leo Amery, born of a Jewish mother and a close friend of Weizmann’’s. Throughout his political career he was a firm supporter of the Zionist dream, and together with Lord Milner had drawn up the final text of the Balfour Declaration. He certainly would have wanted someone who would be good for Palestine and Zionism. Chancellor’s appointment made sense to those who appointed him because of his long-standing and successful career in the colonial service. Had anyone been aware of it, his embittered attitude toward Zionism would have prevented his being considered for the job, but in fact this attitude only came to the fore after he had begun his service in Palestine, and was unknown even to him at the time of his appointment. No progress toward the Homeland could have been expected during Chancellor’s three years and the Zionists were lucky to escape so lightly from his continuous attempts to damage their cause.

NOTES 1. Wasserstein, p. 153. 2. ibid, p. 155. 3. Kisch, p. 184. 4. ibid, p. 200. 5. ibid, p. 236. 6. British Government White Paper, November 1928. 7. ibid, p. 245. 8. Segev, p. 245. 9. Chaim Weizmann letters. Vol. XIV, p. 29. 10. Kisch to Rothschild, CZA S25/1, 28/8/29. 11. Sheffer, Policy Making and British Policies Towards Palestine 1929–39 Unpublished doctoral thesis, Oxford 1971, pp. 36, 45. 12. Wasserstein, p. 155. 13. Memo from Secretary of State, NA CO 733 175/2, 25/9/29. 14. Kisch, p. 310. 15. Kisch, pp. 144, 338. 16. Hope Simpson Report on Immigration, Land Settlement and Development 1930, p. 52. 17. Shepherd, p. 113. 18. Kisch, p. 333. 19. ibid, p. 347. 20. ibid, p. 366. 21. O’Brien, p. 189. 22. Kolinsky, Law, Order and Riots, p. 132.

23. Kisch, pp. 295–97. 24. Kisch to Hoofien, CZA S25/ 5791, 29/5/30. 25. Chancellor’s Papers, Box 16/6, 17/5/31. 26. N and &H Bentwich, Mandate Memories, p. 142. 27. Stein, The Land Question in Palestine, p. 93.

Chapter 8

Whither Britain’s Commitment to Zionism? The year 1931 was the fourteenth year since the Balfour Declaration and almost halfway through Britain’s thirty-year rule in Palestine. It marked the end of Chancellor’s and Passfield’s terms of office, the retirement of Kisch from the Jewish Agency, and the failure of Weizmann to be re-elected as President of the World Zionist Organization, largely due to the campaign against him waged at the 1931 Zionist Congress by the increasingly powerful Revisionist faction. Among Weizmann’s critics there were those who thought that he had been too soft on the British government over a number of years. The highpoint in Britain’s commitment to the Jewish Homeland in Palestine was the Balfour Declaration of November 2, 1917. This chapter, which is the last in part I of the book, will examine to what an extent that commitment had faded away by the end of 1931. Balfour declared to Lord Rothschild, the head of the English Jewish community at that moment, that His Majesty’s government would use its best endeavors to facilitate the establishment of a Jewish home in Palestine. The declaration was contained in a short letter which had been revised and polished over many months by the representatives of the British government and the Zionist Organization. Whereas in form it was a simple letter, in content it represented a very carefully constructed statement of British government policy. It was of even greater importance to Zionist history that these same contents, with a few minor adjustments, found their way four-and-a-half years later into the Mandate agreement of July 24, 1922. Among the adjustments was that found in Article 2 of the agreement, which now stated that the Mandatory shall be responsible for placing the country under such political, administrative and economic conditions as will secure the establishment of a Jewish National Home. The letter between two English gentlemen had been adopted by an international body and its contents and Britain’s commitment had now been published for the entire world to see. As was discussed earlier, the British government wanted to be in Palestine, and wanted to be there with the Zionists. There were those who applauded the entry ticket with two names on it, but after a while they and others had the temerity to suggest that now that the two parties had found their way to the Holy Land, Britain really did not need the inconvenience of being tied to Weizmann and friends and it should quickly seek the means to terminate the arrangement. Lloyd-George and Balfour had no time for such suggestions, and in any case it would take another five years for the Mandate to be officially handed to Britain, and so they had to stay put, at least for the time being. After both men had left the government, the new Foreign Minister, Lord Curzon, never a friend of Zionism, personally wouldn’t have minded getting out, but made it clear that Britain could not go back on its commitment. In sporting terms “it just wouldn’t have been cricket.” And the good Lord’s sentiments were repeated to all of the various others who asked the question from time to time: “When are you leaving?”

O’Brien makes the point that the period up to 1919, when Balfour resigned as Foreign Secretary, was a honeymoon period for Zionism. Weizmann and colleagues were the blue-eyed boys in Whitehall for a while. This lasted until it began to be realized that the concept of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine was going to be an inconvenient burden. The OETA understood soon enough that it had lost the battle and had no option but to grumble and accept the Zionist commission. However, it was clear that its cooperation would be minimal. Samuel, the so-called Zionist, also had his hands tied by the commitment and needed to find some means of watering it down, which would make life easier for him and his administration. For a Jewish Homeland ever to come about, there needed to be substantial Jewish immigration, sufficient accommodation for these immigrants, and work prospects. These were the three pillars which would support the Homeland structure. Opponents of Zionism seeking to slow down or destroy the process would have had to do so by removing or effectively reducing one or all of these pillars. The Palestinian Arab leadership understood this very well, and whereas its number one demand was that the Declaration and the Mandate should be revoked in their entirety, in the short term it strove to halt or greatly reduce immigration and to forbid land sales to Jews. The administration officers, realizing that they weren’t going to change government policy from within, changed tack and passed the baton to the Arabs, whom they were convinced had a good chance of persuading the government to think again. The Arab deputation which met with Colonial Secretary Churchill in early 1921 in Jerusalem was left in no doubt that he had no intention of taking any action against government policy, and when another delegation turned up in London and sat there for many months, it was either given the same message or Churchill and his Colonial Office officials refused to meet with its members. In 1920 Samuel reopened the land registries which had been closed since the departure of the Turks, thus enabling Jews to buy land again; but as he was a man for fair play for both sides, he calculated that if he were to juggle with Jewish immigration and even put a temporary halt to it, he might ingratiate himself with the Arabs, who rather scared him. Thus the administration opened a government immigration department to oversee immigration, and took the job away from the PZE, which had previously had the responsibility for this very important area. Samuel’s decision to stop immigration after the 1921 Jaffa Riots was very badly received by the ZO, and this was compounded by new provisions in the 1922 White Paper, which tied immigration to the absorptive capacity of the country. This was the first attempt by the British government to chip away at its commitment to Zionism. The Zionist dream of unlimited numbers of Jews flooding into Palestine was a thing of the past. In order to compensate the Jews for this disappointment, the government inserted into the White Paper the assurance that the Zionists were in Palestine “as of right and not on sufferance,” but the Yishuv was not particularly moved by British words and was looking for a Homeland. So far five years had passed since the declaration and little progress had been

made. As against that, during the Samuel administration there was a visible rise in Arab nationalism, and an increase in anti-Semitism amongst administration officials. The mandate was born in the summer of 1922. Thereafter, the Yishuv presumed there would be a meaningful effort made by the British to activate its commitment to the League of Nations. Concerning the three pillars mentioned above, the administration was controlling immigration and calculating what the absorptive capacity was at any given moment. The PZE continuously and inevitably did battle with it over its estimation. It wasn’t until the early 1930s that meaningful numbers of immigrants applied for visas to enter Palestine. This was one of the great disappointments that Zionist planners had to accept in the early years of the mandate. They had helped to open the door to Palestine after a great struggle, but so few people wanted to come in. Whereas some Arabs themselves tried to put the brake on private land sales, the sellers’ commercial interests were evidently much more important than their loyalty to the Arab nationalist cause, and the lucrative business continued merrily, especially as the Jewish land agencies were prepared to pay well over the market price. As we have already seen, it was only at the end of the 1920s that the government, prompted by a mischievous High Commissioner, started to get involved in these private land transactions. The CO and the High Commissioners labored under the miscalculation that the Arabs could be bought off by offering them a role in the legislative process of the country. The offers were of no interest to the Arabs, who wanted nothing less than their independence, which would come after the Mandate and the Balfour Declaration disappeared from sight. There was little logic in offering them a role in participating in the running of a Mandate they were trying to destroy. On the other hand, Zionist opponents in the administration were not prepared for the Jews to steal a march on the Arabs or manipulate themselves into an advantageous political position. This situation arose prior to the finalization of the mandate agreement in which it was set out in Article 4 that a Jewish Agency would be created with a role of advising (and presumably influencing) the administration. The words of the Article described this role as to: advise and co-operate with the Administration in such economic, social and other matters as may affect the establishment of the Jewish national home and the interest of the Jewish population in Palestine, and subject always to the control of the Administration, to assist and take part in the development of the country. The Arab side immediately reacted angrily to this proposal and asked why it had not been offered a similar agency As a result, officials within the administration hastened to approach the government in an attempt to find a way of removing this clause. In the van of this initiative was Ernest Richmond, the dedicated anti-Zionist, who while on leave in London in 1921 toured various government ministries in the hope of finding some support for his campaign to remove the Article from the

agreement. Gilbert Clayton also believed that its inclusion would be unfair on the Arabs. The other more surprising campaigner was Wyndham Deedes, the administration Chief Secretary, and a close friend of Weizmann’s. Richmond, Samuel’s adviser on British Arab relations, was also Deedes’ assistant, but the relationship between them was very bad, and this was one of the few issues on which they agreed. When the riots broke out in Jerusalem on November 2, 1921, Deedes was temporarily in charge of the administration while Samuel was in London. Suddenly, perhaps out of fear, and very uncharacteristically, he came to the conclusion that Article 4 was a mistake and a major factor contributing to the present tension. He called for a rethink by the government, suggesting that the Arabs could never trust a government whose decisions were made to satisfy Zionist interests alone. In a private letter to Shuckburgh, Deedes wrote: I should remind you that the Zionists have, and I think recognise, they have no better friend in this country than myself. . . The anomalous position assigned to the Zionist Organisation in the mandate should be abolished, and the adminitration should be left to govern this country with the help of a body in which all sections of the community would be adequately represented.[1] There were various surprised reactions to Deedes’ words. Sir Gerard Clauson of the CO said that Deedes’ letter must have caused him “much pain in the writing, and only great hostility could have caused him to go that far,” but he didn’t think that by abrogating the ZO powers under Article 4 that the hostility would be allayed. Richard Meinertzhagen, who had been sent home from Palestine in 1920, was then working in the CO. He wrote: I shall be no party to adopting such retrogressive and destructive proposals as made by my friend Deedes. I regard them as merely perpetuating the past wobbling weaknesses of our Administration.[2] As he and Deedes were close friends, Weizmann did not hesitate to rebuke him for his apparent change of heart and wrote: you speak of co-operation between the Administration of Palestine and the ZO. I am afraid that this co-operation is being rendered illusory, but not by us. It is quite true that the Zionist ideals may have upset some Arabs and some British anti-Semites, but these are the very ideals which have been sanctified by thousands of years of martyrdom. For the sake of these ideals we have gone through torture all over the world, and these ideals are the very life blood of Zionism. Take them away or water them down and Zionism ceases to exist. I cannot ask the ZO to commit suicide. I have always preached and taught that there is an identity of interests between a British and a Jewish Palestine, but this

policy is being systematically destroyed.[3] Despite the pressure brought on the government, this time not by the Arabs but by administration officials, the Zionist lobby was evidently still able to pull strings in Westminster. Having made overtures to the CO, Churchill, the Colonial Secretary, finally vetoed the proposal for the deletion of the Clause, stating that “the Zionists here would never accept such a proposal unless under compulsion.” Once again the British government had apparently refused to go back on its commitment to Zionism. The finalization of the mandate put a brake on Arab hopes and Arab lobbying. However, there were two further occasions in 1923 when British officials once again looked at the possibility of giving up the Mandate. The Arab Executive was led to believe that with a Conservative government replacing Lloyd-George’s coalition government at the end of 1922, there were no longer any of the pro-Zionist ministers in the new cabinet who had been involved in the birth of the Balfour Declaration, and that possibly this cabinet might be persuaded to change its mind. As a result, yet another Arab delegation was invited to London by its supporters in the hope that the new colonial secretary, the Duke of Devonshire, might agree to meet with its members. The Duke however, swiftly dashed any hopes that they might have had by stating that the government had no intention of reversing established government policy, and that if Britain left Palestine this would open the door for the return of the Turks, which surely nobody wanted. In an official communiqué he wrote: “while the whole question of Palestine is being considered by His Majesty’s Government, no hope can be held of any departure from the policy set out in the 1922 White Paper[4] .” Prime Minister Baldwin set up a special Cabinet Committee in June 1923 under the chairmanship of the colonial secretary. One of its members was Foreign Minister Lord Curzon, a veteran anti-Zionist since the days of the Balfour Declaration. Despite his presence, the committee reiterated that Britain had no intention of withdrawing from the six-year-old Balfour Declaration, nor of giving up its mandate. Concurrent with this, the military chiefs issued a statement that Palestine was no longer of any great strategic importance, and Chief of General Staff Sir Henry Wilson said that: “The military occupation of Palestine, so far from being beneficial is most deleterious to the British Empire.” The bottom line in British thinking was that whereas a presence in Palestine was no longer vital, come what may, the government would not consider another power taking its place in the area, and this alone was a justification for continuing with the mandate. Throughout the six years, the Zionist side had been carefully watching the British governments to see if there were any waverers or backsliders who might have been able to influence them to look for an exit from Palestine, or a change in the terms of the mandate. However, it has to be said that Whitehall had successfully parried all the demands, suggestions, and pleas and that its resolve to finish the job seemed to be firm.

We have seen some of the various reasons for hanging on so stubbornly, although none of them had much to do with the commitment to the establishment of the Homeland. All reference to that had been put firmly on the back burner. On the front burner was the question of how Britain was going to continue to assure the Palestine Arabs that there was no imminent likelihood of a disaster happening to them in Palestine. Up till 1929 the Yishuv continued its steady progress of building up and developing its own institutions. It did not seem to care too much about the absence of British input, and was no longer eagerly waiting for Britain to do something concrete as far as the Homeland was concerned. This could have continued smoothly and successfully had the situation in Palestine remained as it was. What changed the situation was that between 1928 and 1931 there was a concerted effort by the British and the Arabs to change the status quo. Before 1928, the Yishuv was relatively confident that the British administration would guarantee its security, but suddenly there were grave doubts as to whether that guarantee was there any more. After the 1929 riots it was presumed that the two Commissions of Inquiry would be fair to Zionist interests, but it didn’t happen that way. The final straw was the Passfield White Paper, which was so aggressively destructive that it led to the question as to where those people were who had purported to be the Zionists’ friends fourteen years before, and how the current British politicians reconciled the original commitment to establish a Jewish Homeland with their present attempt to dismantle everything they had been striven for so far. The first reaction of Weizmann and his top Zionist colleagues was to resign in protest. The second reaction was to wage war on Passfield, Ramsey MacDonald, and any other visible members of the Labour Cabinet. Passfield told his wife to expect “a Jewish Hurricane.” The war was waged by means of an intensive political campaign masterminded by Weizmann and the ZO, who sought out leading political figures such as Baldwin, Churchill, Austen Chamberlain, Amery, Lloyd-George, Samuel, and Smuts among others, and asked them to aggressively oppose the White Paper by fair means or foul. Smuts immediately responded to the call and wrote to MacDonald pointing out that he was one of those responsible for the Balfour Declaration and urging him to immediately repudiate the White Paper. The person in Weizmann’s entourage who had superb contacts in Whitehall was Blanche (Baffy) Dugdale, Balfour’s niece and a passionate (gentile) Zionist. Although Baffy’s political inclinations were to the left, most of the useful people she knew were in the Conservative party. The day after publication of the White Paper she went to see Leopold Amery and told him that something had to be done to dissociate the Conservatives (in opposition) from the White Paper. Amery agreed with her, but said that he had to consult Baldwin, the party leader. Baffy then went to Baldwin who said: “Now wait, I think slowly.” Baffy then replied: “I know, but we can’t waste time, something must be done at once.” Baldwin said he wanted to consult Austen Chamberlain, one of his senior Conservative

colleagues. In exasperation, Baffy went back to Amery, and together they drafted a letter to The Times protesting against the White Paper, which appeared the following day. The signatories of the letter were Amery, Austen Chamberlain, and Baldwin. Churchill said that he also wanted to be associated with the protest.[5] The small Zionist team inspired by Baffy was looking for maximum public support, and determined to recruit as many important political figures of the day to join them in open opposition to the government. Other than the above-named signatories of the letter to The Times, she and Weizmann signed up Lloyd-George, Samuel, and Smuts. Even Uncle Arthur, who was very close to the end of his life, asked how he could help the campaign. Richard Meinertzhagen, Passfield’s nephew, was dispatched to demand an interview with his uncle, where he expressed his extreme indignation. Two prominent lawyers, Lord Hailsham and Sir John Symonds, wrote to The Times and stated that the White Paper was contrary to the terms of the mandate and was therefore illegal. Three pro-Zionist Labour M.P.s, Josiah Wedgwood, Joseph Kenworthy, and Michael Marcus, said that they would vote against their own party in the ensuing Commons debate, and to add to the government’s problems there was a bye-election coming up in Whitechapel, in which there was a large number of Jewish voters. Ernest Bevin, a future foreign minister, who at that time was an influential trade union leader, said: “I will instruct my boys to vote against the Government if the White Paper is not amended,” and in the election campaign the leading English Jewish newspaper, the Jewish Chronicle, publicly appealed to Jewish voters not to give their votes to the Labour candidate. The Zionist team met with the prime minister and tried to persuade him to annul the White Paper. MacDonald was completely shocked by the volume of opposition and claimed that he was not in any way responsible for the White Paper. Passfield had not consulted him. He told them that whereas constitutionally there was no possibility that his government could annul the White Paper, he did invite the Jewish Agency to send its representatives to a specially created Cabinet Committee to discuss ways and means of dealing with the problem. The Jewish Agency duly accepted this invitation and discussions began in December 1930. The government was represented by Arthur Henderson, the Foreign Secretary, and Malcolm MacDonald, the Prime Minister’s son. On the Zionist side, there was Weizmann, Stein, Sacher, James de Rothschild, Harold Laski, and Professors Brodetsky and Lewis Namier. Six meetings between the two sides were held in the period up to February 1931. The ZO considered that it had made an important political achievement by forcing the government to negotiate with it, and that the offer to hold discussions was a positive step. But the Yishuv leadership was still traumatized by the H-S Report and the White Paper, and in addition was not happy about talks being held in London at which none of their views would be represented.

From the outset of the Cabinet Committee discussions it was evident that the government was bent on reversing its policy and abrogating certain of the White Paper proposals. This would amount to a rejection of the Hope-Simpson, Chancellor, and Passfield claim that every consideration needed to be given to the unfortunate Arabs who were somehow the victims of Zionist machinations, and that the government all along had been responsible for their plight because of its unbalanced and unfair attitude to Zionism. As the committee’s main aim was to correct the government’s own mistakes, there was no need to invite any of the above triumvirate to participate in the discussions, nor were any representatives of the Yishuv or the Arab community invited to participate. The main issue in the discussions was the most effective way of countermanding the White Paper. The Jewish Agency representatives suggested to the committee that a new White Paper should replace the original, but this was rejected on the grounds that it would result in a loss of face for the government. Eventually the decision was taken that MacDonald should send Weizmann a letter, signed by himself personally (the MacDonald Letter), which would be put before the House of Commons in answer to a parliamentary question. In this way it would be published in Hansard, which would give it full parliamentary authority. The letter was presented to the House of Commons on February 13, 1931. Among its most important points were the following: 1. 2. 3. 4.

5. 6.

7. 8.

The Mandate imposed on the government was not only an undertaking to the Jews of Palestine, but to the worldwide Jewish community. The original White Paper had not intended to make injurious remarks about the Jewish people or the Jewish labor organizations. Facilitating Jewish immigration and close settlement on the land remained a positive obligation of the mandate. The term “landless Arabs” should only be applied to those who have been displaced by lands passing into Jewish hands, and not to all rural Arabs. Moreover, such persons should not have an automatic preference over Jewish settlers. The government would set up an enquiry to ascertain what lands were available for Jewish settlement. The government did not intend to halt immigration, and the criteria for the issuing of permits should be according to those laid down in the Churchill White Paper of 1922. The concept of absorptive capacity would be based on economic grounds only rather than political considerations. The concept of Jewish employers hiring Jewish labor exclusively would not be opposed by the government as long as it did not lead to aggravated Arab unemployment.

Most Zionists were highly delighted by their success. Weizmann wrote some time later: it was under MacDonald’s letter to me that the change came about in the Government’s attitude, and in the attitude of the Palestine Administration which enabled us to make magnificent gains in the ensuing years. Jewish immigration was permitted to reach figures like forty thousand for 1934 and sixty two thousand in 1935, figures undreamed of in 1930.[6] This was underlined by the Zionist historian Walter Laqueur, who wrote:[7] “the MacDonald letter provided a respite of seven years, but this at a critical period in Jewish history, and it enabled hundreds of thousands of refugees to find a new home.” Kisch set out to explain the import of the MacDonald Letter to the Yishuv and the Palestinian Arabs. Reporting on his meetings with the Yishuv leadership, he said that on the whole they seemed satisfied and appreciated the “remarkable character of Weizmann’s achievement.” However, it was also aware of the various contradictory statements that had been made by the British government, and it was interested in seeing tangible results in addition to “mere phrases.” Predictably, however, the Arabs said that the White Paper had turned into a “Black Letter,” and the government’s volte-face had occurred because of the bogey of “international Jewish finance.” As a result the president of the AE demanded a meeting with the HC at which he protested forcefully about the government’s policy changes. Chancellor, who was in no way unsympathetic, told Passfield that “this may result in creating a deep abyss between HMG and the Arabs.” Weizmann believed that this was the right time for him and his wife to visit Palestine, in order to gauge the feelings in the country and possibly to start building bridges between the two communities. The Arab press, however, warned him that any trip to Palestine for the purpose of achieving cooperation between Arabs and Jews was doomed to failure until the “black interpretation of the White Paper is withdrawn.” Notwithstanding the death threats that he received and the advice of close colleagues, the Weizmanns made the trip, but as expected he was received with hostility both by the Arab press and various Arab dignitaries, who refused to meet with him as a form of personal boycott because of his involvement in the MacDonald Letter. Chancellor was skeptical about the value of Weizmann’s visit and suggested that meetings between Arabs and Zionists would be much more profitable in London than in Palestine, but Weizmann riposted that it was the lack of positive support from Chancellor that had torpedoed his “peace initiative.” In a report on his trip to the American Zionist Organization Association, Weizmann wrote: our relations with the Administration have not improved. The High Commissioner,

who I understand is leaving this summer is not a friend of ours. He is constantly spreading views which are hostile to us and everybody coming into contact with him is bound to feel his influence. Whenever we touched upon a problem of policy his antagonism became apparent and the Arabs are quick enough to sense it. The HC is very anxious to make a beginning with the Development Scheme and has, I am perfectly sure, made up his mind to ignore the MacDonald Letter, and to abide by the principles laid down in the Hope-Simpson Report. He is no doubt impressing his views on the CO, and in Passfield he will find an ardent supporter. [8]

Whereas both Weizmann and Kisch believed that Chancellor was capable of ignoring the contents of the MacDonald Letter and of continuing on his own sweet way, this did not take into consideration the fact that the Whitehall government always had the final word, and once it had made its pronouncement not even the High Commissioner would have been able to override it. By April 1931 Chancellor was getting ready to leave Palestine, and at that moment would not have wanted a confrontation with the CO. In answer to the query raised in the title of this chapter, a spokesman for the British governments which inherited the commitment to Zionism perhaps might have pointed out that the proof of the Britain’s good intentions was the insistence of the Lloyd-George government that the Balfour Declaration had to be included in the mandate agreement, thus giving it immediate international status and backing. In addition, successive governments had refused to withdraw from Britain’s commitment to the creation of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine. The most serious attempt to change Britain’s mind was to be found in the series of anti-Zionist activities carried out through the joint initiative between a High Commissioner and a Colonial Secretary, which might have led to the conclusion that the government had come round in a full circle since November 1917. However, the Cabinet Committee and the Prime Minister swiftly put the Zionist train, which seemed as if it was in danger of being derailed, firmly back on its track, and the crisis was over. But we would say to the spokesman: “Yes, we have to agree that you kept your promise and refused to be budged from your course, but the promise also included an agreement that you would enable the establishment of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine. We cannot see any signs of this enablement.” To this the reply might well have been: “It is true that we have not been able to carry out many positive enabling acts for a variety of reasons, but on the other hand we have not stood in the way of the Yishuv establishing its Homeland with or without our assistance.” Consequently, up till the end of 1931 the British government could have been applauded at least for its “passive enablement,” but not much more. We shall keenly observe in part II of this book whether in the seventeen years leading up to 1948 it was able to achieve a tad more than this.



NOTES 1. Deedes to Shuckburgh, PRO CO 537/852 22/11/21. 2. Meinertzhagen, pp. 133–34. 3. Weizmann to Deedes, PRO CO733/16/719, 13/12/21. 4. Report of Zionist Executive to XIII Zionist Congress, Part I, p. 12, August 1923. 5. Vera Weizmann, The Impossible Takes Longer, pp. 112–13. 6. Weizmann, p. 415. 7. Laqueur, History of Zionism, pp. 493–94. 8. Chaim Weizmann Letters, Vol. XV, pp. 128–31.

Chapter 9

The Battle between the Palestine Administration and the Jewish Agency (over Immigration, Land, and Jobs) As previously mentioned, a future homeland in Palestine would rest on three pillars: getting the maximum number of Jews into the country, providing them with a place in which to live, and making sure that there was available work. The Mandate agreement obliged Britain to take care of these three issues. Whereas the idea of the establishment of the Homeland was a theoretical concept which did not occupy the minds of the protagonists on a daily basis, the above three issues were urgent, and the future welfare of the Yishuv depended on immediate solutions being found. In each case the administration held all the cards and it was up to the PZE, and later the Jewish Agency representatives to demand action from the particular administration departments by means of regular meetings with the relevant officials. The first director of the government’s immigration office in 1920 was Major Morris. He was succeeded by Albert Hyamson, an English Jew who had been recommended to the administration by the ZO and considered himself to be a Zionist. Article 6 of the Mandate agreement states that: The Administration of Palestine while ensuing the rights and positions of other sections of the population are not prejudiced, shall facilitate Jewish immigration under suitable conditions. It was the last three words which were to be the bone of contention between the two sides as they scrapped over what the absorptive capacity of the country was at any particular moment. The negotiating system which had been worked out in 1923 was that the PZE would draw up lists of applicants, initially on a quarterly and later on a half yearly basis, according to the agreed quotas. The recommendations would then be passed to the government immigration department, and finally they would be passed on to the HC’s office for the final decision. The regular discussions and negotiations between the PZE and the immigration department were usually acrimonious. Kisch was the person batting for the PZE and Hyamson for the administration. In spite of his claim to be a Zionist, Hyamson was not prepared to do the Zionists any favors and maintained strict neutrality regarding the number of immigration visas which his department was prepared to sanction. Edwin Samuel, who had worked in his department, said that Hyamson developed a jaundiced view toward his own staff and this eventually infected his attitude toward the Zionists, whose attempts to circumvent immigration regulations he resented. His exaggerated strictness did not actually result in great numbers being refused entry into Palestine, but from the Zionist side, having to work with him in general was

unpleasant. His refusal to acknowledge the “Jewish national aspect” in his work made him a hated figure in the Yishuv, and the ZO must have wondered how they had come to recommend him. In a letter to the ZO in October 1923, Kisch wrote: it appears that Major Morris is not to return from Europe. In any case the definite abolition of his department has been decided upon. Morris has always been our friend in so far as consistent with his duty and I regard his departure as a serious loss. The work of the old Immigration Department is to be carried on by Hyamson who will be styled “Chief Permit Officer.” In the past Hyamson has always done his utmost to oppose immigration, mainly I think in order to make difficulties for Morris who stood in his way for the expansion of his own duties. It is possible that Morris being gone, and the budget of Hyamson’s Department dependent on immigration, he may change his attitude. It is lamentable that immigration questions should be influenced by such issues, but unfortunately this is the case.[1] Initially Hyamson was apparently not seeking to work against Zionist interests but to settle some political scores inside the immigration department. In the same letter Kisch informed the ZO that it had been agreed at the recent Zionist Congress at Carlsbad that there should be an increased budgetary amount to be devoted to “stimulating and assisting the absorption of new immigrants,” but whereas this had been well received by Clayton, Hyamson had written to the CO and had put forward every possible argument to kill the proposals. The CO for its part completely supported Hyamson’s position, and even suggested the imposition of a numerus clausus. Kisch, however, was convinced that Samuel would not accept such a proposal. Weizmann, responding to the issue of a numerus clausus, wrote to the CO as follows: any attempt (on the part of HM Government) to restrict the flow of Jewish immigration by the imposition of an arbitrary numerical limit would strike at the roots of policy to which His Majesty’s Government have hitherto adhered. Severely as immigration is restricted in almost every part of the world, nowhere are Jewish immigrants as such limited within the limits of a numerus clausus. It would be a singular commentary on the events of the past few years if this crowning indignity were reserved for them in the country in which they have been invited to establish their national home.[2] Whereas the Zionists, on the one hand, saw Hyamson as a serious obstacle to immigration, he, for his part, had plenty to say about Zionist tactics. In his book Palestine Under the Mandate, he wrote: the Zionist Executive with no real responsibility for the consequences and under

continuous pressure from its supporters to show results in the form of immigrants, views every prospect through rose colored spectacles. An organization whose function has been once entirely and is still mainly one of propaganda inevitably exaggerates every favorable element just as it brushes aside those that are not so favorable. The Government on the other hand has had necessarily a sense of great responsibility and finds it necessary to put on the brake. As the PZE realizes that any figures it submits will be automatically halved, it continuously overstates them but the Government is not so simple as it is thought to be.[3] Hyamson complained about fictitious wives and fiancées, Yemini residents with two wives, professional husbands marrying for a price, a barber who insured his comb and two pairs of scissors for £500 and then produced the policy as evidence of his means, and even about banks which offered fictitious loans so that prospective immigrants could give assurances that they had sufficient capital to meet the entry requirements. He himself was of the opinion that “visas were granted generously but by no means lavishly.” However, the truth is probably that he saw the ZO attempting to use all kinds of devices to fool his department into granting labor certificates, which he as a loyal servant of the Crown had to resist. Kisch, whose only interest was in maximizing the number of visas to be issued, urged the immigration office to look further than the dry facts and to consider both the humanitarian and political aspects of the applications, as in many cases those applying for visas were in difficult and dangerous situations in their own countries. He saw his negotiations as being potentially a matter of life or death, to be treated particularly seriously. In 1923, whereas the number of immigrants into Palestine was 7,421, this was offset by an emigration figure of 3,466, and Kisch in a letter to the ZO in London wrote that Jewish emigration in June and August had reached the alarming figure of 1,443 compared with an immigration of 2,102. He wrote that he was not unduly alarmed by the number of emigrants and that this did not signify a trend, because in the figure of 1,443 there were 1,059 new immigrants who were merely passing through the country and only 374 old residents. But he was genuinely distressed that the PZE had spent a lot of money bringing 1,059 immigrants into the country, and they had gone elsewhere, in which case a large number of precious permits had been wasted on them. A letter in a different mood was sent by Kisch to Weizmann, in which he wrote: I am deriving great joy from the immigration graph in my office, the curve of which is running off the top of the paper. This is everything, and should be considered not only with regard to Palestine, but with regard to the Jewish situation in the Galut. The September immigration figure will also be about two thousand. We must try to raise additional money to provide for work during the

winter months in order to maintain the present high morale and prevent suffering and disappointment.[4] Kisch was evidently watching the immigration figures with great excitement. For him they were the barometer of his success in handling Zionist affairs in Palestine. There were many entries in his diary concerning his battles with Hyamson, which he treated very seriously. For example: January 1923 Called on Hyamson regarding the Immigration Labor Schedule. He agreed to renew the number of certificates (about 100), which had lapsed owing to our having sent them to countries where immigrants of the trades in question were not available. He also agreed to take up as a special case our proposal to introduce 300 Yemeni families at a rate of 50 per month. August 1924 The S.S Kertch arrived yesterday with 136 Russian immigrants on board, all without visas, in addition to 43 with visas. Apart from that, there some others who were undoubtedly political refugees. I went over to Hyamson and laboriously argued the case of each one of these immigrants. Eventually he agreed to admit them all. It will not be possible to do anything of this kind again as the authorities are determined to stop such irregular practices on the part of the Russian shipping line and I cannot say they are wrong. I came away utterly exhausted by the discussion, having felt that the issue at stake was literally a matter of life or death for those affected. No doubt it was this fact which inspired me to persist and finally Hyamson yielded generously. August 1924 Spent two hours with Hyamson clearing up outstanding immigration matters as much as possible. The main issue is that of hundreds of “tourists” who have remained in this country as immigrants and with regard to whom Hyamson is seeking powers of deportation. I hope the Government will not agree to this, and that whatever may be done in the future as regards controlling tourist traffic, an amnesty will be granted for all those who now are settled in the country.[5] Despite the fact that he was a stickler for the rules, on rare occasions Kisch was evidently able to squeeze some flexibility out of Hyamson in cases of extreme individual hardship. In these cases they both sat down and looked for some loopholes in the rules. The critical time in the negotiations for immigration visas came every six months when the PZE submitted its applications to the administration. At this time the administration needed to decide what the “absorptive capacity” of the country was, as this was the sole factor affecting its decision as to how many visas it would grant. Kisch firmly believed that he and his colleagues were much more in touch with the practical realities of the country, and could make a much better estimate of how the economy would respond in the following period and how many jobs would be available.

In a letter to Samuel regarding the schedule for October–March 1924, Kisch firstly attacked a government proposal that no visas at all should be issued in that period, and then pointed out that its estimation of the numbers employed was entirely erroneous. In addition he reminded the government that at the previous Zionist Congress a large increase in available funds was promised which would have made the prospects for the winter period, which was always a low point in terms of employment, much healthier. He went on to say that: the suspension of Jewish labor immigration even temporarily is a measure which cannot but raise the gravest doubts among the Jewish people as to the desire and determination of His Majesty’s Government to carry out the policy of the creation of a Jewish Home. The PZE, far from accepting any suspension, recommends that the Labor Immigration Schedule for skilled and unskilled labor should be increased by 50 percent compared to the same period last year.[6] As regards the half year up to September 1924, Kisch informed Hyamson that whereas the Executive had been prepared to accept a drop in the number of visas for the previous period, because job prospects in the towns were bad at that moment, there were other projects envisaged including the Hebrew University building, private house construction, the Rutenberg scheme, government road building, and tobacco growing in the Galilee. Therefore the PZE application was not going to ask for permits for tradesmen and craftsmen in the towns, but for 1,717 permits for workers in the tobacco plantations, workers in the quarries, and special permits for Transylvanian and Caucasian farmers, whom he pleaded were a special case. It is noteworthy that the gap between the number of visas agreed by the immigration department and that requested by the PZE was usually small. For instance in the period beginning October 1, 1924, 3,500 permits were requested and the government granted 3,425. Another important factor in the immigration process was the time that elapsed between the initial applications and the moment that the immigrants finally arrived in Palestine. The PZE was particularly critical that the handling of these applications took too long because of the excessive bureaucracy both in Europe and Palestine. In 1924, the government decided to interview prospective immigrants at the point of embarkation in Europe, rather than on their arrival in Palestine, in order to prevent the unpleasant experience of their being rejected and deported. On the question of deportations in general in the 1920s, there were often as many as twenty a month. Because this was an expensive process, Hyamson suggested carrying out selective deportations in order to deter those who had embarked on boats bound for Palestine without valid permits. However this somewhat unpleasant plan was rejected by the chief secretary. Later on it was realized that the issue of deportations was a particularly sensitive issue which would result in adverse publicity in the British press and even questions in

Parliament. As a result a confidential dispatch was sent to district commissioners stating that no Jew found in Palestine without due permission or having overstayed a visit was to be deported without the prior approval of the high commissioner himself. As regards the tardy immigration process in Europe, the PZE pushed for the government to find a way to speed up the process and make it efficient. Kisch gave as an example the case of Captain Cartwright, the chief immigration officer in Warsaw, who stipulated that applicants for visas to take up agricultural work in Palestine had to show documentary evidence that they had agricultural qualifications. Kisch pointed out that: women going to agricultural settlements were actually not going as agriculturalists but as domestic workers who would provide backup for those engaged in agriculture, so that Cartwright’s tests were “arbitrary and inappropriate,” and he suggested that the Immigration Office should ask him to stop this particular practice.[7] On another occasion Kisch wrote that: a family who lived a long way from Warsaw was informed by Cartwright that all of the members of the family, including young children should appear in person before him. He pointed out that this was expensive and inconvenient and that “with the advent of the Polish winter the arbitrary and inhuman conditions which Captain Cartwright continued to impose were calculated to endanger the health of the children of immigrants to Palestine apart from the unnecessary inconvenience and expense caused to their parents” and once again he asked the Immigration Office to put an end to this practice.[8] There was a feeling in general on the Zionist side that British authorities inside Europe were putting unnecessary obstacles in the way of would-be immigrants seeking visas to enter Palestine. However, in 1925 the new immigration ordinance stated that immigration permits would have to be approved by the immigration authorities in Palestine, thus taking away much of the control from British consulates in the Europe. Weizmann was also concerned about the inefficiency of the immigration system in Europe, and in a letter to Kisch wrote: at a time when the number of Jews wishing to leave Poland has increased dramatically the Immigration Office is actually making things more difficult for prospective immigrants. In my opinion there are three particular issues which are causing hardship to applicants: Firstly the immigration authorities are insisting that every immigrant must have a valid passport at the time of application. Secondly that the immigrant has to have ₤500 in cash available at the time of application, and thirdly that the time for the application to reach Jerusalem and to

receive a reply is approximately three months, which in my opinion is much too long especially given the deteriorating economic situation in Poland. I can scarcely tell you what a blow it is to us to feel that under the new regulations not a single visa has yet been granted. The Government here assures us that it is not their intention to check immigration or to make it more difficult. In practice however the immigration seems to have stopped.[9] Whereas before 1925 the bottleneck delaying immigration had been in Europe, thereafter the problem was in Palestine. Kisch resolved to take up the matter with the administration and wrote in his diary: had a long interview with Symes mainly on the question of Immigration, I told the Chief Secretary that the Permits Section had virtually broken down and was not able to cope with the work devolving upon it. I pointed out that the failure of the Administration to dispose of applications for visas from persons of independent means was keeping no less than ₤100,000 a month out of the country. Symes raised the question as to whether Hyamson’s failure was due to inadequate staff or to excessive centralization, and Kisch wrote that I diagnose the trouble as arising from the time when Herbert Samuel reduced the Department of Immigration and Travel to a mere section of the Secretariat, which left Hyamson with a legitimate grievance for which our immigrants have to suffer. [10]

One of the important issues discussed by the PZE and the immigration office in the middle of the 1920s was the level of ability of the individual immigrant. In the summer of 1923 unemployment in Palestine was 15 percent, but with the increased prosperity in 1924 and 1925 there was an increase in immigration figures—12,856 and 33,801 (compared to 7,421 in 1923)—and it was realized that such an increase, especially in the number of those in the self-employed capitalist category, who were required to bring ₤500 with them, was potentially of great benefit to the Palestine economy as a whole. However, there was some doubt about the value to the country of these shopkeepers and owners of small businesses, because although with their arrival there was an economic boom, especially in Tel Aviv, this had little effect on the economy of Palestine as a whole. These immigrants were basically interested in short-term profit rather than the Zionist dream. As a result there was a new consideration to be dealt with in terms of immigration visas—not only the absorptive capacity of the country, but what type of immigrant the two sides wanted to see in Palestine. Hyamson proposed that immigrants who applied for a visa in the self-employed category should be obliged to raise the amount of money they brought with them into Palestine from £500 to ₤1,000, but Weizmann told the HC that such an increase

would be tantamount to stopping the immigration of the middle class and said: I hope you will make it clear to Hyamson, Bentwich and Symes, that the economic position of the Polish State is terrible and of course it affects the Jews. Jews who today have ₤500, may not have it in three weeks time, and every day’s delay is seeing a depreciation of all economic values in Poland and an impoverishment of our people, unprecedented even in the annals of Polish Jewish history. In the face of all that it seems a cruel irony that Hyamson should press for regular passports for which the Polish Government charges ₤20.[11] Kisch seemed to have been successful in blocking Hyamson’s proposals and later wrote: the meeting this morning lasted two hours and the agenda was extremely awkward, including proposals to restrict middle class immigration numerically, to raise the financial minimum from ₤500 to ₤1000, and to refer to Palestine all applications for travel visas. I was able to secure that all these proposals were dropped for the time being. During these discussions Lord Plumer showed himself distinctly sympathetic towards the idea of high labor immigration while expressing himself rather strongly in regard to the excessive proportion of men of small means. I maintained the point that this class of immigration will, when necessary, restrict itself through the normal intervention of economic laws.[12] Despite the apparent boom of 1925 there were those, including Shuckburgh at the CO, who believed that there would be a sharp downturn in the Palestine economy because of the kind of immigrant who was beginning to come to Palestine with his ₤500, buy a plot of land, build a house, and then apparently wait for the next lot of immigrants with capital to provide them with employment. He wrote that it was true that a certain number of industries had been started, but these appeared to be designed to meet the needs of Tel Aviv settlers and not the permanent development of the country. It seemed to him that everything depended on the continuous influx of new immigrants bringing capital with them, and he was not sure if this could be relied on. Sooner or later there might be a serious crash unless some really productive agricultural or other industry could be built near the city. Weizmann wrote that in his mind the prototype immigrant was a chalutz, (pioneer) and a Hebrew-speaking Zionist, but this had all changed because the latest arrivals saw no difference between being in Palestine and being in America. As soon as one left the Emek and came into the streets of Tel Aviv, the whole picture changed. He said that: he was delighted by the rising stream of immigration, and by the continuous flow of ships bringing thousands of people who were prepared to risk their life savings in the National Home. But he did not underrate the importance of this immigration

to their work of construction, and whereas their brothers and sisters of Djika and Nalevki (ghetto districts of Warsaw) were their flesh and blood, they had to make sure that they directed that stream and did not allow it to deflect them from their goal. It was essential to remember that they were not building the National Home on the model of Djiki and Nalevki, because they always knew that the life of the ghetto was merely a stage on the road: and in Palestine they had reached home and were building for eternity.[13] Weizmann’s comments were very controversial, as he seemed to be advocating some kind of selection process. Other leaders, such as Jabotinsky, believed that every and any Jew should be willingly accepted into Palestine, but this attitude was not accepted either by the ZO or the British government. Commenting on Weizmann’s remarks, Kisch said that he believed that: various people had frightened Weizmann with regard to the immigration of the man with small means, and whereas that class of immigrant presented a new problem which needed to be dealt with, it was also certain that they were a less constructive and stable element than the chalutzim who entered on the labour schedule.[14] The original debate over quality versus quantity was eventually settled at the end of the 1920s as a result of the downturn in the economy and the increase in unemployment. At this time the PZE, which had a financial commitment to provide for these new immigrants, felt that it had no choice but to choose the most suitable candidates for immigration, rather than take anyone and everyone who applied. In this case “most suitable” amounted to those bringing skills and experience who would be able to make a worthwhile contribution to the Palestine economy. However, up till the autumn of 1925 Kisch was still fighting for the maximum number of permits from the government immigration department, and now that the decisions regarding the issuing of visas were taking place in Palestine, there was increased tension between Kisch and the immigration authorities as he pushed for the greatest possible number and Hyamson and his staff strove to apply the regulations as strictly as possible and close the loopholes in order to keep out the “undesirables.” At a meeting with Hyamson in October 1925, Kisch was informed that the Executive Council had decided that as there were so many immigrants arriving, they should return to the former practice of providing schedules of applications for visas on a three-monthly rather than a six-monthly basis, and as a result it had been decided to allot the PZE only 7,500 permits, and to review the matter again on January 1. Kisch, who was very disappointed by this decision, hoped that in the end they would receive the full number of permits that they had applied for, and said that if this was not the case the Yishuv would see it as an unfriendly act by Plumer, the new high commissioner.

After the boom of 1925 there was a sharp decline in the state of the economy and immigration fell from 33,801 to 13,081 in 1926, a fall of 62 percent. In the same year there was an emigration figure of 7,365, the highest figure of the decade. The PZE tended to blame the government because of its tougher policy toward the “capitalist” immigrants and pointed out that as a result of this change there had been a drop in the amount of capital investment to the tune of 26 percent within the space of a year. The British government, for its part, had taken Shuckburgh’s warning seriously and realized that the great numbers of immigrants arriving in 1925 could have been the cause of the sudden economic decline. At the beginning of 1926 there was a sharp increase in unemployment, the amount of construction in urban areas dropped, and the amount of bankruptcies increased. Consequently the government decided that it needed to take action to curtail future immigration, and from 1926 to 1929 the government’s policy was to “avoid the mistake of 1925 and not allow immigration on an uneconomic scale.” Plumer, in a memo to the CO, wrote: my view is that the present unsatisfactory situation is due to the fact that the rate of progress has been far too rapid and what is essential for the proper development of Palestine is time. To gain time the actual facts of the present position must be recognized, admitted and faced: Jewish immigration must be suspended, or at any rate drastically restricted and all capital and energy devoted to what may be described as consolidating the position attained.[15] Although the CO sympathized with Plumer’s views, it was not prepared to take any immediate steps, especially as in the period April–September 1926 the PZE only applied for 2,500 permits under the labor schedule compared to 16,500 in the previous six months, and in the following period to March 1927 this dropped to 1,500. Plumer decided to approve this number, because he feared that if he put a stop to all immigration in this category there would be a corresponding cessation of capital investment and financial support from the Jews outside Palestine. However, in the period April to September 1927, of the 1,500 permits requested by the PZE, the administration only approved 500. At the end of the summer of 1927, when Jewish unemployment was particularly high, the labor schedule was suspended and Hyamson suggested that immigration in other categories should also be cut down and that persons of independent means seeking to immigrate should be obliged to show that they had funds of ₤2,000. Thus if the Jewish authorities dealing with land settlement wanted to bring in a family to settle on agricultural land, they would have to put up a figure of ₤1,200 in order to guarantee that it had sufficient means to work and survive in Palestine. These proposals were based on Hyamson’s perpetual complaint that the PZE was bending the rules and allowing immigrants into Palestine who had insufficient means or prospects. However, by the time that these proposals could be acted upon and legislation passed, the economic position in 1928 had improved and in the period

October 1928 to March 1929, 600 permits out of 1,000 requested were granted and the labor schedule was reactivated. In 1927 the number of immigrants into Palestine was 2,713, and the number of emigrants 5,071, whereas in 1928 there were 2,178 immigrants and 2,168 emigrants. It was still not clear whether the PZE would cooperate with the government and help to curtail immigration during the period of economic crisis, but evidently it accepted the reality of the situation, and agreed it was futile to bring immigrants into a country which was in the middle of such an economic depression. As a result the Executive decided to restrict immigration to those whom it could show would not add to the number of unemployed, and a year later Kisch wrote: the situation as to unemployment and immigration has given rise to difficulties and hardship . . . and the Zionist Executive and Labour Federation has decided to admit no further unemployed as recipients of direct relief.[16] As the PZE was engaged in trying to persuade the administration to provide work for Jewish unemployed workers in road building and other government works, this was not the time to press it strongly on immigration permits. Kisch wrote in his diary: eventually I was able to negotiate the reopening of the labour schedule, and 600 permits were granted for the period October 1928–March 1929, but in order that these permits would be used to the best possible advantage I issued instructions that they should be given to those who had already had vocational training in the previous two years in Hechalutz institutions and that priority should also be given to organized groups.[17] Whereas the PZE had come to terms with the fact that there needed to be a limit on immigration, there were also considerations of security and political pressure which the Jews of Europe had to cope with during this period; as a result, Kisch was particularly worried about the situation in Russia, where Zionists were increasingly in danger from the Soviet authorities. Despite his acceptance of the curb on immigration, Kisch believed that, because of the humanitarian problem, the administration should apply different criteria. In this instance he was able to persuade the immigration department of the gravity of the situation, and as a result 225 visas were granted to immigrants categorized as political refugees in 1927 and 1928. Kisch believed that he had actually been responsible for saving their lives. The economic crisis of 1926–1927 and the ensuing unemployment resulted in a sharp drop in visa applications, and an absence of conflict between the PZE and the administration. At this moment, when the PZE itself was also going through a financial crisis and could not afford to give new immigrants a great deal of financial support, it was ready to accept a selection process which would ensure high quality immigrants

who would become quickly self-supporting. In general, Hyamson and colleagues had not set out to deliberately harm Zionist interests, but obviously from the Zionist point of view he could have shown more flexibility and sensitivity. With the drop in the number of immigrants at the end of the 1920s the relationship between the two sides was less confrontational, and eventually they were able to work together relatively harmoniously. This proved to be of great importance, especially at the time of the great wave of immigration in the early 1930s from Nazi Germany and Poland. At that critical time there was a smooth and substantial flow of refugees into Palestine. Before closing this section, we should have one further look at Albert Hyamson, the only Jew in a senior position in Palestine administration, who waged a crusade against the Zionists because he thought (quite rightly) that they were “trying to take him for a ride.” In 1927, four young Jewish political prisoners in Russia were in danger of being sent into exile to Siberia, but the immigration department refused to grant them visas pending reference to London. In the interim period their exit permits from Russia expired. There was an immediate reaction from the Jewish press in Palestine. The Ha’aretz newspaper asked whether Hyamson would have acted in this way toward any but Jewish prisoners, and the Davar accused him of “misusing the key to the gates of Palestine, which he had always used for the worse . . . his department is a symbol of wickedness.”[18] Tom Segev writes that Hyamson was known in Vilna as a Jewish anti-Semite and as a first-class scum. Because he was a stickler to the rules in a life or death situation, he became extremely unpopular in Zionist circles.[19] Ronald Storrs wrote: Hyamson accepted or rejected applications with the conscientiousness traditional in the British Civil Service, and in consequence soon became one of the most unpopular figures in pan-Zionism: which has created of him the image of a Jackin-Office, sadistically thrusting back the persecuted immigrant for the sake of a misprint in his passport, an image that scores of thousands of Jews admitted through his Department have not yet availed to demolish.[20] The ZO, which had originally recommended Hyamson, seriously considered asking the government to recall him, but in fact he managed to remain in his job for a total of twelve years, until 1934. He returned rather disgustedly to England, and later wrote that the Yishuv and the Zionist Movement were dominated by East European Jews. He also came to the conclusion that Palestine should not be a Jewish State, and whereas he still considered himself a Zionist, in another of his books, Palestine: A Policy, he wrote that “many of my Zionist friends will resent this description,” and one can easily understand how he came to that conclusion. Turning to the thorny question of the acquisition of land in Palestine for Jewish settlement, the Arabs were almost always willing to sell land to the three big Jewish

land agencies, funded by the ZO. The other source of potential land acquisition was from the administration itself. Under the terms of the Mandate agreement, the administration was obliged to make land available to both Jews and Arabs. Article 6 of the agreement read: The Administration of Palestine shall encourage, in cooperation with the Jewish Agency, close settlement by Jews on the land, including State lands and waste lands not required for public purposes. The PZE estimated that the amount of cultivatable State land was 889,978 dunams, but in order to arrive at a more precise figure the administration would need to carry out a comprehensive survey. Clayton informed the ZO that the government was attempting to raise an amount of ₤400,000, which would ensure that the survey was completed within five years, and that this sum would be recovered through increased revenues. Kisch insisted that rapid progress with the survey was essential in order for the Yishuv to secure the use of State and waste lands as per Article 6. Other than Chancellor, no other High Commissioner wanted his administration to interfere in private deals, but each of them proposed land legislation for different reasons. Samuel passed the first land ordinance in 1920, and then a second ordinance in 1921, which stated that the director of lands had to satisfy himself that in the case of any land transfer, “any tenant in occupation will retain sufficient land in the district or elsewhere for the maintenance of himself and his family.” However, in most cases neither party in a sale agreement wanted it to be inspected by the government authorities, and did not apply for government consent to the transaction. Owners and tenants took the money for purchase and compensation and departed, and the change in ownership was often not discovered until much later. The policy in general was to compensate tenants who had been evicted, but although the government passed ordinances in 1920, 1921, 1927, and 1932, it never really succeeded in achieving its objective of trying to protect the sitting tenant who was evicted as a result of land deals. The1920/21 ordinances also attempted to stop land speculation. They forbade land purchase by nonresidents, and would not allow purchase and resale of land within a twelve-month period. But in spite of the good intentions of the government, the desire on both sides to buy and sell land predominated. It is worth noting that the Haycraft Commission report in 1921, which examined Arab grievances following the Jaffa riots, focused predominantly on the problem of immigration, and had very little to say about Jewish land acquisition. Whereas the Mandate agreement committed the government to making State land available, if there was any such land to be had, there was very little of such land in this category, and on the rare occasions when such land did appear, there were fierce conflicting claims from both Arabs and Jews, often forcing the government into making political decisions. The three largest transactions in the 1920s dealing with the allocation of public

land were the Beisan lands, south of the Kinneret; the Sursock family land in the Esdraelon valley; and the land at Atlit-CaesariaKabbara. The Beisan agreement has been discussed previously. Whereas the original decision was made by Samuel in 1920, the dispute over the implications of the sale continued for some years. Colonel Symes, the British representative at the ninth session of the PMC in 1926, admitted that the Beisan agreement had been made under political pressure, and from an economic point of view it could be criticized unfavorably. In the Peel Report (the 1936 Palestine Royal Commission), the government was accused of: an error of judgment, because it was an agreement made hastily without sufficient examination, with no regard for future development, and unduly generous terms were given to the Arabs who are not in a position to take advantage of them without sufficient safeguards against abuse.[21] Kisch, in a letter to Clayton in January 1924, wrote that: the 1923 Zionist Congress stated that the Beisan agreement had given the Arabs much more land than they were entitled to, and that as there had obviously been a misapprehension as to the true facts which had been misrepresented, the Government should consider revising the agreement, especially as in addition it was not carrying out its obligations under article 6 of the Mandate.[22] The Sursock lands, which belonged to an Arab family living in Beirut, comprised twenty-two villages situated on marshy but fertile land, which had been the target of would-be purchasers since the 1890s. During the period of Ottoman rule the authorities had not sanctioned the sale. In 1921 the Sursock family agreed to sell the land to the Palestine Land Development Corporation, whose policy was that it would only buy land which was free of sitting tenants, who needed to have been evicted, usually without compensation, before the sale was completed. In 1924 the Arab Executive complained to the government that large-scale evictions were due to take place, and even though the Sursock family had rights to sell the land, the tenants also had “customary rights” to the land. The government did not want to interfere in this deal and refused to overturn the agreement. This led to an accusation that the administration was involved in complicity, and had secretly agreed to these evictions. The Hope-Simpson Report, referring to the Sursock lands said: the Jewish authorities have nothing with which to reproach themselves . . . they paid high prices for the land, and in addition they paid to certain of the occupants of those lands a considerable amount of money which they were not legally

bound to pay. It was not their business but the business of the Government to see to it that the position of the Arabs was not adversely affected by the transaction, but it is doubtful whether in the matter of the Sursock lands the Article of the Mandate (protecting the rights and position of the Arabs) received sufficient consideration.[23] The Kabbara concession was mixed marsh land, sand dunes, and forest on the coastal plain south of Haifa. The Palestine Jewish Colonization Company had negotiated the purchase of the land with the Ottoman authorities in 1914, and presuming that the sale would go through successfully had invested a large amount of money in draining and development of the land. After the war the company approached the government and asked it to reopen the negotiations it had previously had with the Ottoman authorities and to confirm its legal title to the land. Samuel’s immediate inclination was to grant the Palestine Jewish Colonization Company the concession, in view of its large investment, but the Arabs residing in the area claimed the government had no right to dispose of land, as the mandate had not yet officially come into existence, and that they had grazing rights over most of the area under discussion. In addition, they claimed that under the land ordinance, if the government intended to dispossess them of the land it had a legal duty to find them alternative land. The Arab leadership accused both the company and the administration of intimidation, and as a result of the strong Arab opposition, the administration was forced to think again as to the way it had handled this affair. In the end the attorney-general ruled that the Arabs did have certain rights over part of the land, so that it then became impossible for the Palestine Jewish Colonization Company and the Zionist purchasers to acquire the land. The dispute between the three sides over these lands continued for a further ten years, without either side coming to a final decision. Finally the Arabs and Jews did arrive at a compromise settlement without the help of the administration. Such a settlement was exceptional, as it was extremely rare for the two sides to get to an amicable agreement. The overall PZE policy was to be as amenable as possible and not to embarrass prospective Arab sellers, as it was thought that successful land sales would show persistent Arab opponents of Zionism that they and the country as a whole could derive great benefits from the import of Jewish capital. Kisch also constantly reminded the administration land department of its obligation under the mandate, and also warned the administration against getting involved in private deals. Despite these efforts, Jabotinsky attacked the record of the ZO, and at the 1925 Zionist Congress demanded to know why it was not putting sufficient pressure on the government. He claimed that the administration should be forced to take over the wastelands, of which 50 percent were cultivatable as a reserve for agriculture. He was adamant that the ZO should create a land reserve for forty thousand immigrants who he envisaged would enter the country every year.

In reply, Weizmann, describing Kisch’s activities in the area of land purchases, reported that in January 1924 he had complained to the administration that it was failing to fulfill its commitments. In July 1924 he wrote to the Colonial Secretary, urging that the land survey should be carried out. In June 1925 he wrote again to the Secretary of State in connection with 70,000 dunams of land in the south about which Kisch was negotiating with the Department of Land, and at the present time the ZO was submitting its annual report to the League of Nations complaining about the British government’s failure to implement the requirements in Article 6 of the mandate. In general terms the administration was sympathetic to Zionist plans for acquiring and developing land in Palestine, especially as the finance for the schemes was coming from Diaspora Jews. Throughout the whole of the mandate period governments and civil servants in Whitehall consistently pleaded poverty and lack of budget. This was another important reason why the administration land department did not interfere in private deals. The only exception to this was the administration’s refusal to let large numbers of Arabs remain landless and jobless because of these deals, but as we have seen earlier the PZE agreed with the government that such a situation would not be in anyone’s interest. The Zionists, while continuing to purchase land and to make it suitable for settlement, were always anxious that the government would not hamper their transactions by introducing unnecessary legislation. Land ordinances were passed at various times, but there was no legislation which seriously limited their activities. Much of the credit for this goes to Norman Bentwich, who in his nine years as attorneygeneral succeeded in preventing any such restrictive legislation finding its way onto the statute books. Of the three English Jews who held senior positions in the various administrations —Samuel, Hyamson, and Bentwich—when examining their value to Zionism during their service in Palestine, only the last named gets a plus rating in Zionist books. Barbara Smith, in evaluating the ability of the two sides to deal with land disputes in which government departments were involved, points out that Arab tenants who were evicted had little protection because as the majority could not read or write, their agreements with the landowner were almost always verbal and sealed with a handshake. Moreover, they were generally unwilling to submit themselves to any kind of legal process or court appearance.[24] On one occasion Weizmann, with his excellent contacts in Whitehall, wrote that he had managed to arrange a meeting with the Director of Lands, who happened to be in London, and that the director admitted that the government had really not done enough for the Zionist side in its efforts to develop land in Palestine. An individual on the Arab side hardly ever had the same access to high government officials, nor was he able to talk to these officials with ease, and on more or less equal terms. Summarizing the position as regards acquisition of land in Palestine, there really were very few opportunities for the administration to allocate State land to either of the two sides as per the Mandate agreement. As for private sales, the government

did not put any obstacles in the way of Zionist land agencies who were able to purchase great tracts of land from the Arabs. Regarding the situation dealing with the provision of employment in Palestine, Article 11 of the Mandate agreement states that: The Administration may arrange with the Jewish Agency to construct or operate upon fair and equitable terms, any public works, services and utilities, in so far as these matters are not directly undertaken by the Administration. Article 2 also states that: Britain shall be responsible for placing the country under such economic conditions as will secure the establishment of the Jewish National home. It was generally understood that this responsibility also included creating employment opportunities. In the early days of the Mandate when there was little outside investment in Palestine, the two main employers of labor were the administration and the British army. In order to obtain employment within these two bodies, Jewish workers needed to compete directly with Arab workers who were prepared to work for lower wages. The PZE invariably had a tough struggle to persuade employers to employ Jews rather than Arabs. When Kisch arrived in Palestine in 1922, he found that there was an established practice of importing cheap Egyptian labor to work on the railways. In 1920 there were 1,500 Egyptian workmen in Palestine. In 1923, the British army decided to carry out major work at one of its largest bases, Sarafand, and decided to give the work to an Egyptian contractor. Kisch took up this matter with Clayton, who said that the administration had no control over what work force the army decided to use. Kisch did not accept this and pointed out that the government had all the necessary legal means to keep foreign labor out of Palestine. In his opinion the country should be built by Palestinian labor and foreign labor should not be given preference even if it was cheaper. He referred to a conversation he had recently had in England with Hubert Young at the Colonial Office, when he said that importing cheap Egyptian labor into Palestine was akin to introducing Chinese labor into the Welsh coalfields, and Young had to agree with him on the comparison. At the same time Kisch wrote to attorney-general Bentwich, informing him that there were four hundred Egyptian workers in the country and that under the terms of the mandate he should take necessary measures to keep such workers out of Palestine The Zionist commission had earlier urged the OETA and Samuel to give the railway work to Jewish labor, but not only was there the question of differential wage rates, but there were also some misgivings as to whether the Jewish worker could undertake such tough manual work. Jewish workers demanded 16–20 piasters a day,

Egyptian workers 10–12 piasters. In addition, Arab workers were generally easier to work with, and were more compliant and less demanding. Following pressure by Samuel the army agreed to take on 180 Jewish workers on a six-month trial to work on the Ludd depot line. The work was carried out under military regulations. But the Jewish workers demanded that Saturday should be their rest day. They resented being confined to camp, and did not want to want to be treated in the military hospital at Sarafand. In addition when the army authorities saw that the Zionist commission had undertaken to supply the workers with bedding, amenity huts, and washing facilities, they considered this to be unwarranted interference. The administration took a decision in 1922 to hire only Palestinian labor for its public works, so that the practice of importing Egyptian workers was to be phased out, but the army had not as yet decided whether it would follow suit in this decision. As regards the relative merits of the Jewish and the Arab worker, the administration stipulated that where Jewish companies competed for tenders, they would be asked to show that the output of the Jewish workers equaled that of their Arab counterparts. A spokesman for the Palestine Railways Company was forced to admit that the standard of intelligence of the Jewish worker was favorable but stated: “my department has been particularly unfortunate with Jewish labour. It is estimated that the output of Arab to Jewish unskilled labour is on a ratio of 1–2.5.”[25] Samuel wrote to the CO: “the Arabs are incensed that such a very large proportion of (Jewish) immigrants have had to be employed on such works as the making of roads and railway embankments[26] .” In addition to fighting for employment for individual workers, the PZE also insisted that Jewish construction companies should be given equal opportunities to tender for large public works and in particular tried to promote the merits of the Jewish Co-Operative Labour Association, a company which was set up in 1921 and which later became Solel Boneh. Kisch made strenuous efforts to persuade the administration’s Public Works Department to use the services of the association. He wrote: in February 1923, I went with David Remez of the Jewish Co-Operative Labour Association to a meeting with the HC, at which Samuel stated that he recognized the important part the Jewish Co-Operative Labour Association was playing in the building up of the National Home and declared his sympathy with its aims and methods. On the other hand he stressed that the Jewish Co-Operative Labour Association would not get any preferential treatment when it came to awarding Government contracts.[27] However, the administration resented the aggressive attitude of the association, which believed that even though it would cost the government more it should be given preferential treatment, which would virtually mean that the government was subsidizing the company. The Jewish Co-Operative Labour Association was getting a

bad reputation in government circles, and General Grant, Director of Public Works, told Kisch that he had always done his best to support the association, but it was becoming increasingly unreasonable in its demands. On one occasion Kisch wrote in his diary that he had left early for Sarafand to look at work being done there by the Jewish Co-Operative Labour Association, and had met the commanding officer Major Moore, who had previously reported adversely on the work. However, on this occasion he admitted that the work was being well carried out and promised to submit a favorable report, because Grant had threatened to strike the Jewish Co-Operative Labour Association off the list of contractors. In 1926 a downturn in the economy resulted in a sharp rise in unemployment. As a result the PZE put pressure on the administration to undertake more public works, and in particular, build new roads, which would provide much needed employment for the Jewish workforce. In addition, the PZE itself decided to set up and finance a relief scheme for Jewish unemployed workers. In a memo to the ZO in March 1926, Kisch wrote that it was urgent for roads to be built between Tel Aviv and Petach–Tikva, Haifa and Hadera, and Rishon Le Zion and Rehovoth. He believed that the government was committed to building roads linking settlements in those areas to their markets and ports, and pointed out that the ZO had invested enormous sums of money in setting up and running these settlements, and as in the winter months the roads became virtually impassable, it was up to the government to solve the problem, as the lack of roads was creating an great commercial problem. Kisch suggested that if the government did not have sufficient funds it should levy a rate on railway freight. The government’s reply was that a rate should be levied on the settlements, as they would be the ones using these roads the most. Kisch, however, was not prepared to accept this point. The PZE indicated to the administration that if there was no money immediately available for public works, it was prepared to provide it with financial assistance for a short period. In this instance an agreement was reached between the PZE and the administration that the Petach–Tikva colony would pay ₤2,000 toward the cost of the road building, provided that only local Jewish labor engaged through the colony committee was used to carry out the work. Previously, in 1922, the PZE had contributed £15,000 toward the cost of the Rishon Le Zion–Rehovoth road, but four years later there was still part of the road uncompleted, and another ₤7,000 was required to finish it. Kisch arranged with the Public Works Department that if the government found ₤4,000, the two municipalities concerned would contribute ₤1,500 and the final ₤1,500 would be given by the PZE in ten installments of ₤150. These somewhat anomalous financial arrangements were seen by the Zionists as being valuable both to the settlements and to the unemployed Jewish workers. In spite of the agreement concluded with the administration, by October 1926 there had still been no progress with the unfinished stretch of the Tel-Aviv–Petach– Tikva road and Kisch wrote to Symes, urging him to press for some decision to be taken speedily. The government finance department had proposed that the work be

spread out over a three-year period, as there was insufficient funds at its disposal. Kisch, however, said that this was unacceptable and put forward two proposals to finance the project. The first was that the government itself should borrow the money, and that provided that Jewish labor was used, the PZE was prepared to pay for the cost of such a loan. The second proposal was that the work should be given to Solel Boneh and that the government would pay the company ₤10,000, which was at that time available, in the first year, and the remainder would be paid over two years. In the meantime the PZE would advance the money to Solel Boneh and reclaim the money from the administration. Some days later Kisch wrote to Symes again, telling him that the PZE had decided that it preferred the second option, because it would lead to an earlier commencement of the work, and added: it is my duty to let you know that if we are not accorded by the Government even that measure of help involved by this proposal, I am anxious as to how we will pull through the next six months, after which I expect a better situation. I am also anxious to know how the leaders of organized labour will be able to maintain their authority, so necessary for the general interest, unless more work becomes available in the near future. It is work that we all want for our labour, not relief.[28] In addition, he told Symes that he had met the HC on the previous day, and Plumer was most impressed with the behavior of the unemployed in a time of great difficulty, and also praised the efforts of the PZE in providing relief and sharing out jobs between different unemployed workers (see above). Kisch wrote that although he was happy to hear the HC’s comments, in actual fact the government had really done nothing at all for the Jewish workers, and the scheme proposed by the PZE would cost the government nothing, but would provide the best kind of relief, namely employment on a vital work of public utility, which would lead to the development of one of the most productive parts of the country. Thus if the government were to find the necessary money that year, rather than seeking to spread it over three years, the cost of borrowing the money would be more than offset by increased revenues it would receive from the new roads. At a later meeting with Plumer, the HC told Kisch that he had read his letter to Symes and had decided that, subject to the approval of the secretary of state, the government would put up an amount of ₤30,000 for work to be begun immediately on the completion of this stretch of road, which would provide work for between 800 and 1,200 Jewish workers. Because this sum had not been included in the government budget it would have to be treated as “Relief Work.” Kisch was not happy at this designation and saw it as a way in which the government could use it against them. He therefore asked that the relief aspect should not be emphasized, because he saw the work as an essential economic project, part of the schedule for constructing new roads, and not just

something that the administration had created artificially. Whereas the HC had given the PZE a green light, there were others within the administration who were intent on torpedoing Zionist plans for aiding unemployed Jewish workers. In a letter to Weizmann, Kisch wrote: I have completed negotiations with the public health department by which Solel Boneh would receive the Jaffa-Petach-Tikva road building contract, without the need of a tender, but they were told that they shouldn’t exaggerate its effects, as the maximum they could expect was work for 500 Jewish unemployed workers. The thorn in our side is Lees, the anti-Jewish Director of Public works, but matters will improve in March 1927 because he is leaving Palestine and going to Cyprus.[29] In another letter to the ZO, Harry Sacher, one of the PZE team, wrote: I had an interview with the HC in regard to the provision of government works for the unemployed . . . the budget of the Government contemplates certain works, and my suggestion was that it should hasten the execution of certain of these works, and make arrangements for employing the Jewish unemployed in connection with them, or a considerable portion of them. I had discussed the matter previously with Colonel Symes who showed himself entirely hostile to the proposal.[30] Plumer’s decision resulted in a series of relief measures in 1927 and 1928 in the sum of ₤132,500, and the CO informed the ZO that it had spent ₤80,000 on special works which were designated as emergency measures for the relief of unemployment. Thus it seemed that the government was making a real effort to assist Jewish unemployed labor. A great deal of the credit for this must be given to the PZE, Jewish Agency, and Histadrut for exerting nonstop pressure on the administration. During the economic crisis of 1926 and 1927 the PZE put forward various proposals for public works projects and at times even offered to subsidize the Public Works Department. In addition, it was also actively involved in running a worker’s relief program. In that there were inevitable delays in starting the work, on some occasions the PZE also agreed to give workers advance payments to cover these delays, and a further figure of ₤800 was set aside for such an eventuality. Following a meeting between Plumer and the PZE in 1928, the administration undertook new public work, including roads between Afuleh and Mescha, and a new quarantine station and the Kedourie School at Hadar Carmel. In addition, a new road was planned between Kalkiliya and Petach–Tikva, a new post office in Jerusalem, and the completion of a hospital in Tel Aviv. Thus by the time Plumer left Palestine in 1928, the PZE had built a good working relationship with the administration, and the two sides were successfully cooperating in solving the problems brought about by the

economic situation. With the increase in public work, and new employment prospects for both Arabs and Jews, the question of allocation of work and differential wage rates reappeared. The two largest projects in which Jews and Arabs were working side by side were at the Port of Haifa and at the Atlit quarries. Kisch believed that wage rates at the Haifa port should be calculated not only the lowest amount that the government as an employer could “get away with,” but also that it should be remembered how much taxes were paid by the section of the community to which the workman belonged. As Sacher wrote: if the Government were fully to carry out their obligations to put the country under such social and economic conditions as will secure the establishment of a Jewish National Home, they should seek to create labour conditions such as will afford a decent standard of living for our manual workers. I am afraid however that none of these arguments will influence the Government to employ Jewish labour at 25 piasters a day when Arab labour can be obtained at 10 piasters.[31] Traditional British colonial policy was to allocate work to companies offering the lowest tender price. This has been described as offering a premium to the contractor who “excelled in exploitation.” Eventually the mandatory government did accept that it had a moral duty to provide work for the Jewish unemployed, and gradually the idea of differing wage rates became acceptable, so that the cheapest supplier of labor did not always automatically get the job. At the beginning of the Haifa Port project, Ben-Gurion met with the new HC Chancellor, and demanded that the administration should commit itself to the principle that a percentage of jobs should be given to Jews, who should get a special daily bonus of five piasters in view of the fact that their living standards were much higher than those of the Arabs. This would result in the Jews earning 30 percent more than the Arabs. Chancellor replied that it reminded him of similar discrimination that he had seen in South Africa. He assumed that in general Arabs were better workers, but Jews were more intelligent, and suggested that the Jews shouldn’t do the dirty work, in which case they would earn more. However, he added that it would be impossible to keep such a wage differential agreement secret, and there would be a lot of Arab resentment. He also suspected that such an agreement was illegal. Eventually an agreement was reached whereby the Jews would get 20 percent more than the Arabs, and would not do the dirty work, and so they would become kind of an elite part of the workforce on works where Jews and Arabs worked together. This, however, was not acceptable to the Histadrut for socialist ideological reasons, as in theory it opposed a concept of an “aristocracy of labor.” It was during the work at the Port of Haifa, which continued for many years, that many of the principles affecting Jewish–Arab work were settled. A report by the Wages Commission in 1928 laid down four different wage rates: Rural Arab 120-150

mils per day, Urban Arab 140-170. Jewish non-union 150-300, Jewish union 280-300. The Histadrut suggested that a definite and fixed proportion of public work should be allocated to the Jewish sector and a figure of 50 percent was proposed. It also pushed for a total unionization of the Jewish workforce, which was opposed on political grounds by nonsocialist parties, and also that there should be a guaranteed minimum wage. The government, for its part, opposed discriminatory wage rates, and could not accept the idea that Jewish workers should have a favored status because the Jewish community contributed more to the Palestine economy than did the Arabs. Whereas it would have liked the dispute concerning the hiring of labor to be settled purely on economic grounds, in the end political pressure on the administration was too great and it was obliged to meet the demands of the Jewish labor leaders and the ZO. The Histadrut and the Jewish Agency were in constant touch with the Public Works Department over the question of wage rates and allocation of work, and Kisch’s diary for 1930/1931 describes some of their negotiations as follows: In August 1930 he wrote that the Histadrut Executive Committee had asked him to intercede with the director of the Public Works Department because at that time the Public Works Department was employing 1,290 Arabs and only 73 Jews in its projects at the Haifa port and the Atlit quarries. By April 1931 the figures had risen to 1,051 Arabs and 209 Jews, but Kisch pointed out that whereas the Jewish share of the work amounted to 16 percent this was less than the Jewish percentage of the total workforce and much less than the contribution from the Jewish community to government tax revenues. In June 1931 when unemployment was high, Kisch reported that he had been approached by labor leaders who had requested a loan from the Jewish Agency to help with their relief fund. Although at that time Kisch was unable to give any financial assistance, he did undertake to talk to Sir Mark Young, the administration chief secretary, who had promised that once the concreting work began at the Haifa port, the Public Works Department would employ more Jews. At that time the numbers employed at the Haifa port were 398 Arabs and 38 Jews. Kisch did meet with Young, but up to the time that he left office two months later, the matter had not been resolved. As regards the question of differential wage rates, in April 1931 Kisch understood from the director of the Public Works Department that Jews were to be employed at the Dead Sea road construction project at Public Works Department rates. The week before he had heard that the Public Works Department intended to give the contact to Arab workers at a figure of 26 percent below the rate and as a result he had successfully intervened and pointed out to the director that the MacDonald Letter had stated that Jews were not to be excluded from the “possibility of a fair share of employment on public works at a fair wage.” Kisch made the point that the logical result (of an overall increase in wage rates) would be to raise the standard of Arab life, which would be a good thing for the

country, and he was also gratified to see that the prime minister’s statement had succeeded in putting pressure on the administration. This had led to a change in attitude toward Kisch and the Jewish Agency, and would lead to fairer wage rates, which would benefit of the Jewish worker... At the Atlit quarries, the Arab workers were being paid at a flat rate of 15 piasters a day and the Jews were paid on a piece-work rate, but W. J. Johnson, the acting treasurer of the administration, insisted that the present rate would be reduced. David Hacohen, the Histadrut workers’ representative, reluctantly accepted this decision, but there was some dispute as to the amount of the reduction. With the new quarry face about to be opened Kisch believed that it was the right time to put pressure on the administration, and he negotiated a deal with Johnson whereby the Jewish workers would be paid a weekly wage at the beginning, when the output was small, and then would switch to a piece-rate system of payment when the face was in full operation and output was increasing. In further negotiations concerning the wage rates at Atlit, Kisch also pointed out to Young that it was unfair that the administration proposed to cut the Jewish piecework rate by 35 percent while at the same time the Jewish workers only had the possibility of working at one quarry while the Arab workers were employed at four quarries. As a result of this meeting Young agreed to hold the rate cut to 20 percent and allow the Jewish workers to work at one additional quarry face. Weizmann was also involved in negotiations with the British government over the working conditions at Atlit, and on two occasions he wrote to the prime minister complaining that as Jewish workers could not work on Shabbat, they had to be given the opportunity to work on Sunday, even though Young had previously stated that Sunday work was uneconomical. As a result, Chancellor had stopped Sunday work, which deprived the Jewish workers of a day’s money. Weizmann, however, claimed that this was against the terms of the mandate, which stated that the Shabbat was an official day of rest, and following his intervention the HC decided to reinstate Sunday work. The whole area of employment and labor rights was an emotive issue in the second half of the 1920s as a result of the deterioration in the Palestine economy. Representatives of the Yishuv were often at loggerheads with the administration, which more or less controlled the labor market, as they strove to get a bigger slice of the employment cake for their community. The major problem was how to obtain more of the work given to the Arab workers who would accept a lower wage for the same job, had more experience in manual work, and worked harder. Whereas the administration officials were aware of their commitment to provide jobs for the Yishuv, under the Mandate agreement, they would have been happy to settle for the bare minimum which they were obliged to give. In order to get more, the Zionist representatives needed to use arguments such as statutory obligations, moral obligations, and refer to the much greater tax contribution paid by the Yishuv to the Palestine economy. They were also constantly looking for help from influential and powerful friends within the administration even as high as the high commissioner, and

at times even had to offer to lend the government money in order to keep Jews in work. When summarizing chapter 9, it should always be remembered that for Zionism, immigration, land, and work were the life and death issues which would make the difference as to whether or not a Jewish Homeland was to be achieved in Palestine. On the other hand, an average administration official was merely doing his job and following instructions. In most cases he carried them out by playing it by the book. There is no evidence to suggest that he was deliberately setting out to torpedo or obstruct Zionist interests on a large scale. However, even though the macro picture must have been known to almost every administration officer serving in Palestine, very few of them showed a great deal of awareness that the British government had committed itself to enabling the establishment of a Jewish Homeland. Had they cared to do so, they might have done more than settle for the bare minimum in order to help this establishment come about. Approaching the end of part I of this book, it is instructive to consider what had taken place between November 2, 1917 and the end of 1931. It would have been very interesting to have asked some key British government players who were involved in the proceedings and the aftermath two questions, as follows: First: At what point did you realize that you had made a major mistake by committing yourselves to Zionism and to the mission impossible of enabling the establishment of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine? Second: Once you had realized that this was the situation, how did you propose getting yourselves out of the quandary? Sir Ronald Graham, a senior foreign ministry official at the time of the Balfour Declaration, wrote some time later: I regard the Palestine Mandate with resignation, but without enthusiasm. I confess that when the question first started I was a hot partisan, but our friend Weizmann for whom personally I have much respect and liking, sold us a pup (my emphasis).[32] I don’t personally believe that Weizmann could have sold the British government something that it really didn’t want to buy, but I do believe that its understanding of what it had let itself into was both superficial and over-optimistic. The first inkling that all would not be well in Palestine must have come when Whitehall was confronted by the wave of opposition and criticism from their own OETA officials, who told the government that Britain had already undertaken to give Palestine to the Arabs, and in any case they personally didn’t like the Jews over much. In that the OETA was only a holding operation, the Lloyd-George government could afford not take this criticism too seriously, and believed that everything would be sorted out by Samuel’s civilian government after the summer of 1920. The first great shock for the British government, brought up on the idea that their

Empire was populated by compliant and docile natives, was when the Palestine Arabs had the temerity to carry out two murderous riots in 1920 and 1921, and then follow them up by sending a delegation to London to tell the government how to manage its affairs in Palestine. Samuel’s answer to this newborn Arab problem, which no one had envisaged, was to try to buy them off with all kinds of “goodies,” the most persuasive of which he thought would be offering them a share in running the country. The Arabs, however, flexing their newfound muscles, made it clear to Britain that they were not interested in a finger, but wanted the whole Palestine hand. In 1922, with the Palestine Arab community now being run by the Mufti, they made it clear that they did not want the new constitution on offer, did not want to cooperate with other people in running the country, and did not want to talk to the Jews. It must have been clear at that moment that an emergence of a Jewish Homeland sponsored by Britain was most unlikely. At the time that the British government went out on a limb and said that it would establish the Homeland, it did not, by any stretch of the imagination, realize that in order to do so it would need the cooperation and permission of the Arabs. Eventually it became clear that this permission and cooperation were a sine qua non, but by the middle of Samuel’s term it was also clear that neither of them would be forthcoming. Once this was realized it was difficult to see what the way forward would be. Dropping the Homeland commitment was never a possibility, because the Yishuv and World Zionism would never have let it happen. For the Zionists the main reason why Britain should be in Palestine was that its presence would lead to the establishment of the Homeland. Britain did not see it that way and perhaps did not ask itself what it was doing there, other than keeping the French out. To where would its uneasy, uncomfortable presence lead? In the absence of a clear answer the only other possibility was to stay put, and endeavor to make sure that the country would remain peaceful and free from violence, and then perhaps eventually everything would work out all right. But in the end that was also to be a mission impossible, as we shall see later. Having been stung by Arab riots on three occasions, Samuel’s greatest fear was that a wider Arab conflagration would be turned against the British. This led him to enlist the help of the Mufti to whom he promised money and power but made it clear that the revocation of the Balfour Declaration and the mandate itself was not discussable. Fingers in Whitehall and Jerusalem were firmly crossed and Palestine was quiet for eight years. When the bubble finally burst, all three parties were devastated by the 1929 Riots. This was the greatest moment of despair, so far, for those who had hoped for a successful mandate. We do therefore have various candidates for the exact moment when Britain realized that the mandate was not going to work, and we certainly don’t have any clue as to how Whitehall thought it was going to get out of its quandary. Whereas every subsequent government respected the inviolability of Lloyd-

George’s commitment, the Yishuv mostly got only a bad press in Whitehall. Every commission investigating Arab riots invariably tried to find reasons why the Jews were the real instigators. Two High Commissioners and many of their officers set out to ingratiate themselves with the Arabs at the expense of Yishuv interests. But the true position was epitomized by the events of 1931, and whereas the Passfield group thought that it had succeeded in seriously undermining the Balfour Declaration and the Mandate, MacDonald very quickly wrote his face-saving letter and put those people who thought that they had succeeded in destroying Britain’s commitment to Zionism firmly in their place. The unhappy marriage between Great Britain and the putative Jewish Homeland would continue.

NOTES 1. Kisch to ZO, CZA Z4 16050, 5/10/23. 2. Weizmann to Duke of Devonshire, CZA Z4 16050, 26/7/23. 3. Hyamson, Palestine Under the Mandate, pp. 56–61. 4. Kisch to ZO, CZA Z4 16050, 5/10/23. 5. Kisch, pp. 28, 142, 143. 6. Kisch to Samuel, CZA S9 1745C, 27/8/23. 7. Kisch to Controller of Permits Section, CZA S9/1754c, 7/12/24. 8. ibid. 9. Chaim Weizmann Letters, Vol. XII, pp. 413–15. 10. Kisch, p. 211. 11. Smith, Roots of Separatism, pp. 80–81. 12. Kisch Diary, CZA S25/3272, 14/9/25. 13. Weizmann, p. 373. 14. Kisch, p. 45. 15. Smith, pp. 81–82. 16. Kisch, pp. 230–31. 17. ibid, p. 241. 18. Shepherd, p. 89. 19. Segev, p. 245. 20. Storrs, p. 384. 21. Esco, p. 310. 22. Michael Kisch Papers, Kisch to Clayton, 21/1/24. 23. Hope-Simpson Report, pp. 49–50. 24. Smith, p. 96. 25. Smith, p. 148. 26. ibid, p. 149–50. 27. Kisch, p. 35. 28. Kisch to Symes, CZA S9/1792a, 20/10/26. 29. Kisch to Weizmann, CZA S25/747, 20/1/27.

30. Sacher to Zionist Executive, CZA S25/ 594, 13/11/27. 31. Sacher to Zionist Executive, CZA S9 1876a, 27/4/28. 32. Graham to Storrs, Storrs Private Papers, Box III/2, 27/5/20.

II

The Mandate Unfulfilled

Chapter 10

The Tables Begin to Turn The second part of this book deals with the period from 1932 until the end of the Mandate on May 14, 1948. The period is divided into two parts. The first part spans from 1932 up to the outbreak of war in 1939, during which time there was a swing in the pendulum of Arab policy as regards its relationship with the Palestine administration. The Arab leadership had enjoyed the patronage of the administration for many years, and had managed to dissuade at least two of the High Commissioners from crossing swords with them. The Arab statement eddowleh maana (the government is with us) was still to be heard. The change in the relationship came in 1932 with the sharp increase in Jewish immigration from Central Europe and ever increasing Arab land sales to the Jews. Suddenly the Arab side came to the conclusion that it had had enough of constantly demanding action from Britain to deal with these two perceived dangers to its existence. A decision was taken to go onto the offensive in order to show the administration that it really meant business. Jewish immigration from 1917 onwards had never been more than a trickle, which the Arabs were prepared to tolerate. When this trickle began to turn into a stream, and then a torrent following events in Europe from 1932 onwards, the Mufti and his advisers decided that the time had come for a head-on confrontation with the administration, as this seemed more likely to yield results than its previous policy of attacking the Yishuv. From this moment, the Palestine Arabs were changing from partners to a potential enemy within, in which case there was no reason to continue a policy of keeping them happy by hook or by crook. If the Arabs now wanted a physical confrontation, the British were ready and confident that they could meet such a challenge to their authority. The Arab Revolt took place from 1936–1939. Notwithstanding this challenge, the British government was fearful of a scenario in which the Arabs might decide to side with the Axis powers against Britain and its allies during the large-scale European war which was on the horizon. In consequence, in spite of the fact that the Palestine Arabs had started to tweak the lion’s tail, the government had no choice other than to embark on a policy of appeasement, the apogee of which was the 1939 White Paper which demonstrated to the Arabs that they were being rewarded for their violence, and the reward would be the termination of Britain’s commitment to Zionism and a reversal of its promise to assist in the establishment of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine. In the second part of this period we will observe the reaction of both communities to the White Paper. During the war neither the Jews nor the Arabs in Palestine sought to make serious problems for the British when they were fighting a global war. Britain’s decision to choose the Arabs rather than the Jews in Palestine was based on its thinking that the Jews were likely to cause them less real trouble. After the war, however, the amount of real trouble that Britain experienced from a small section of

the Yishuv was a severe blow to its pride and status, and provided it with the reason to terminate the mandate, which it had desperately wanted to escape from, but as yet had never found out how.

Sir Arthur Wauchope, fourth high commissioner. He was undone by the Arab Revolt.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem Chancellor’s successor, High Commissioner for Palestine number four, was Sir Arthur Wauchope, a man in the same mold as most of the other High Commissioners, who came from a background of a long and impressive military or colonial service, but knew next to nothing about the Middle East. Kisch wrote in his diary of July 14, 1931: yesterday afternoon the appointment of the new High Commissioner was announced, Lt-General A.G Wauchope, at present commanding the troops in Northern Ireland. He is essentially a soldier, but since the armistice has occupied two posts which should be particularly useful in Palestine. Firstly as a member of the Commission for the settlement of ex-soldiers in Australia and New Zealand, and afterwards as Chairman of the British Section of the Military Inter-Allied Commission of Control in Berlin. I hope he may prove to be another Plumer.[1] In fact, Kisch’s hopes were substantially realized. Some years later, after he had retired, he wrote: Jews will always remember gratefully the fact that during the first years of his

term of office Sir Arthur kept the doors of Palestine open, not only for the capitalist refugees but also for the Jewish working men and women without whom the capital flowing into Palestine could not have been constructively applied to the development of the country. It is worthy of note that Wauchope’s term of office covered an immigration of 240,000 Jews as compared to half that number during the combined terms of office of his three predecessors.[2] Wauchope had a close personal relationship with Ben-Gurion, who during his term of office was chairman of the Jewish Agency and of the World Zionist Organization. B-G related that Ramsey Macdonald, a fellow Socialist leader, told him that the next high commissioner would be “a good man, a fellow Scot, and someone who would support Jewish immigration and land settlement.” Writing about Wauchope’s term of office, Ben-Gurion says: apart from helping us on immigration, Wauchope seemed to have a deeper understanding than any other High Commissioner of what we were trying to do in Palestine, that we were not only trying to develop a country, but were also trying to revive our nation. One of his deepest interests was the kibbutz. Though he was a soldier and a Scottish aristocrat, whose upbringing was far removed from the co-operative patterns of the kibbutz, he was much taken by their way of life and had a great affection for kibbutzniks. He thought them the salt of the earth. He used to tell me that he had rarely seen men and women so dedicated and whether or not one agreed with their general outlook, it was soul lifting to find people prepared to shape their lives in accordance with their ideals. This he thought was real integrity: and integrity had his highest respect.[3] Wauchope was close to Weizmann and other Zionist leaders, including Chaim Arlosoroff and Shmaryahu Levin. Weizmann recounts that he was a frequent visitor to Sieff Institute in Rehovoth, where a laboratory for plant physiology was opened in his name. He saw Wauchope as: a distinguished administrator and scholar, perhaps the best High Commissioner Palestine had, and I believe a proof of Ramsey MacDonald’s serious effort to undo the harm of the Passfield White Paper. Whereas Weizmann regretted that the end of his term of office was unsatisfactory and disappointing, this was largely due to changes in government policy, and he would be remembered in Israel as a “friend, intellectual, soldier, administrator and statesman.”[4] The beginnings of the 1930s in Europe saw the beginnings of fascism and the concomitant increase in serious anti-Semitism. Whereas Hitler came to power in 1933, signs of impending persecution of the Jews began in 1932. Up to that moment the Zionist movement had not been strong in Central Europe, but thereafter Jews

began to seriously consider the idea of emigrating to Palestine. In 1931 the total immigration figure was 4,075 individuals, the lowest in the history of immigration into Palestine. In 1932 it more than doubled to 9,553. 1933—it more than trebled to 30,327 1934—42,359 1935—61,854 These miraculous figures had not been dreamed of at the time that the PZE (Kisch) and the immigration office (Hyamson) were at permanent loggerheads over relatively small numbers of immigrant visas in the 1920s. Whereas Wauchope can take some of the credit for this influx, it should be remembered that Hyamson was still working in Palestine up till 1934, and was still an obstacle for anyone attempting to get round the law. But in fact the great majority of immigrants who arrived in this period were able to bring with them assets in excess of £1,000, the magic figure which opened the door of Palestine to would-be immigrants, and so they did have a legal entitlement. In reaction to the tragic events in Europe, Wauchope’s administration quickly granted one thousand “labor” certificates to German Jews under the age of thirty-five, and also speeded up the process by sending certificates enabling the British Consul in Berlin to issue visas without needing to apply to the Palestine immigrant office. The HC also promised those people already in the country that he would help them to bring in their families and dependents. Parallel to this sudden influx of people, there was a corresponding rise in the import of capital, so that by 1936 the government had a surplus balance of more than £6,000,000 in the Palestine treasury. Between 1931 and 1936, £25,000,000 was brought into Palestine, and the Jewish rural community grew from 27,000 to 60,000. Industrial exports for the first time became a significant factor in the economic life of the country, and a pipeline built by the Iraq Petroleum Company was completed, which led to the building of a new large terminal in Haifa with a deep water harbor which could handle world shipping. The changes in the population balance were rapid, as the following table shows:

Number of Jews in Palestine

percent total population

Number of Moslem Arabs in Palestine

percent total population

1922

84,000

11

590,000

78

1931

174,000

17

760,000

73

1937

386,000

28

875,000

63

Predictably there was a swift reaction from the Arab leadership. Firstly it claimed that many immigrants were entering Palestine illegally, and then, looking at the larger picture, it foresaw serious consequences which would damage the social and

economic balance of the country; in the worst case scenario it saw unchecked immigration leading to the Jews being a majority in Palestine. There were those in Whitehall and Jerusalem who wondered whether it was politically wise to allow such a large stream of Jewish immigrants into the country so quickly, but inevitably Weizmann and colleagues would not consider any suggestion that they should be asked to help by controlling or reducing the numbers. And so both the British and the Zionists misjudged the political importance of the situation and went blithely onwards. As a result of the economic boom in the early 1930s, there was a corresponding change in what was considered to be the “absorptive capacity” of the country. However, when the Arab leaders approached Wauchope with demands to stop land sales to Jews and immigration, his answer was that with the country becoming more and more prosperous there would be more room for everyone. It was the administration’s intention to find ways of increasing the productivity of the land, and he himself was personally putting a lot of effort into finding ways of improving agricultural methods. All of the above gave the Yishuv the feeling that Wauchope was the first HC who was really on its side. One of the issues awaiting him, which had been left over from Chancellor’s term of office, was the question of a proposed legislative council. Article 2 of the Mandate agreement laid down that there should be self-governing institutions in Palestine, and the three previous administrations had unenthusiastically considered different proposals, but nothing had emerged. For Samuel, making Palestine as democratic as possible was one of his first priorities, but as we have seen, his plans for elections to set up such a legislative council failed miserably in 1923 as a result of the Arab boycott. On that occasion the ZO and the Yishuv felt that they would have to reluctantly agree to take part in the elections. There were further proposals during Plumer’s term of office, and the initiative this time came from the Arabs themselves. On this occasion the Yishuv expressed its open opposition and as a result Plumer and the Colonial Office working in tandem made sure that the proposals were nipped in the bud. New proposals were included in the Passfield 1930 White Paper and Weizmann even offered to discuss the matter with the Arabs at a round table conference, but predictably the offer was turned down. The White Paper stated that “a measure of self government should be taken in hand without further delay,” and it was envisaged that the council would consist of the HC and ten officials, plus twelve other members elected by secondary voters. The White Paper proposals had never been rescinded and were still on the table for Wauchope’s consideration. He himself was in favor of such self-governing institutions in Palestine and held the view that “a country suffering from intense internal conflict could not safely be governed by arbitrary methods.” However, when the Jewish Agency Executive met with him in London in November 1931, they made it clear that revising the idea of a legislative council would

be prejudicial to the interests of both Jews and Arabs. They could not recommend to Palestine Jews that they should participate in such an initiative, because even though the planned council would have a number of government officials, there was always the danger of it being dominated by the Arabs. In 1931 at a meeting with Ben-Gurion, Ramsey MacDonald assured him that if some form of self-governing body were to ever take place, the Jews would have parity with the Arabs, and this word became very much the in word in Zionist minds and Jewish Agency jargon. Arlosoroff, in the short period when he was head of the Jewish Agency, told Wauchope that Jews deserved parity because they were now a majority in the larger towns, owned half the citrus industry and the hinterland around Haifa harbor, controlled the Electricity Corporation and the Dead Sea mineral concessions, and contributed 40 percent of the public revenue.[5] Weizmann also told him that: “One Jew as a unit of efficiency is worth at least two Arabs.” Whereas there was a strong feeling on the Zionist side that a legislative council would never happen, one of the reasons why Weizmann lost his presidency at the 1931 Zionist Congress was that his opponents claimed that he had failed to deal with Chancellor’s proposals for a council satisfactorily, and it was still dangling in the political air and could well be revived. And as the Arabs were still the great majority in Palestine, the Yishuv could not afford to take the prospect of a council dominated by the Arabs lightly. Despite strong Jewish Agency opposition, in November 1932 Wauchope stubbornly proceeded with his plans to implement the White Paper proposals, and went to Geneva to inform the PMC of his intentions. The position of the PMC prior to Wauchope’s visit was that even though it was bound by the terms of the Mandate agreement, it was opposed to setting up such a council as long as the stated aim of the Arab leadership was to overturn the mandate. At his meeting with the PMC, Wauchope stated that his duty was to carry out his government’s policy, and that the first stage in doing so was to pass a Local Government Ordinance, which would lead to the creation of municipal authorities in Palestine; following that he would turn to the question of setting up the legislative council. His plans for local government elections did not materialize in 1933, due to an outbreak of violence in October when the Arabs demonstrated against Jewish immigration and land sales. These riots spread through many Arab areas including Jerusalem, Nablus, Haifa, and Jaffa, resulting in the death of one policeman and injuries to another fifty-six. Twenty-six rioters were also killed and 187 injured. But for the first time in the mandate period no Jews were injured during the course of Arab rioting. Immediately after the riots a group of Arab mayors met with Wauchope and urged him to proceed to setting up the proposed legislative council as quickly as possible. He, however, stuck to his program of having municipal elections first. The

elections duly took place in 1934 (except for Jerusalem, in 1935) and the way was open for proceeding toward the proposed council. However, the Yishuv was not prepared to accept Wauchope’s decision without a fight, and during 1934 the voice of the Jewish Agency was again heard as it pointed out to the High Commissioner that as the Mandate: recognized the historic connection between the Jews and Palestine, anything that tended to subject the country’s destiny to the influence of the present majority of the population was contrary to the basic conception of the Mandate. The Mandate invested the Jewish people with a special status in, and with regard to Palestine, and if the Legislative Council were set up under the existing numerical conditions that statue would implicitly be reduced and the Jews of Palestine would be degraded to the level of a minority. No constitutional guarantees could offer adequate security to Jewish progress in Palestine as long as the Arab leaders maintained uncompromising hostility to the Jewish national home. The proposed council, far from assisting better relations between Jews and Arabs would merely serve as an instrument for hampering the execution of the Mandate, spreading anti-Zionist propaganda and intensifying racial strife.[6] Once again, however, Wauchope was not swayed by Jewish Agency objections, and in December 1935 he outlined his plans for the council. He envisaged that the council would comprise twenty-eight members, of whom twelve would be elected (nine Arabs, three Jews), eleven nominated (five Arabs, four Jews, and two businessmen), and there would be two businessmen and five government officials. The president of the council would be impartial, having had no previous connection to Palestine. One further hurdle to overcome was obtaining the approval of the British Parliament in Westminster. The proposals for the council were duly debated in the House of Lords in February 1936, and in the Commons in March. In both debates there were heated and vociferous demands that the whole project should be shelved. Much of the credit for this opposition must go to the very effective Jewish lobby that was active in parliamentary circles during the late 1930s. It was led by Weizmann, who was assisted by Lewis Namier, Walter Elliott, Selig Brodetsky, Josiah Wedgwood, and above all by Baffy Dugdale (Balfour’s niece), who had also played a big part in the campaign against the Passfield White Paper in 1930. Writing about the debates in her diary, she said: Feb 26th went to the House of Lords to hear Debate on Palestine Legislative Council on Lord Snell’s motion. Marvelous result: some 10 peers from all sides spoke against the Government and not one in favor. We now hope for a further debate in both Houses. Spent the evening writing about it for the Palestine papers.

On March 24 she wrote: House of Commons for Palestine Debate. Jimmy Thomas (Colonial Secretary) made a poor defense of Government policy re. Legislative Council and the Government had a bad time on all sides till Debate ended at 8.15.no one in favor of Leg. Co. except one Crossley-Conservative MP for Stretford. Winston made a fine speech. On way to dinner with Jos Wedgwood I met Brendan Bracken and Winston in the corridor. They both thought Leg. Co dead if the two oppositions choose to pursue their advantage. I am not so sure—and indeed if it were to lead to Wauchope’s resignation, I am not so sure it is to be wished, but certainly the debate in both Houses has been a triumph for us.[7] Wauchope appeared to have little support for his constitutional initiative. Not from the Jewish Agency. Not from the Nineteenth Zionist Congress, which passed a resolution in 1935 opposing the setting up of a council. Not in Westminster, and not even from the Arabs. Initially the Arabs had pushed Wauchope, urging him to get on with making the council happen, but they had not ascertained what the reaction of the British Parliament would be. They asked Wauchope to pass on to the CO their demand for a sovereign parliament, a ban on all further land sales to Jews, and an immediate end to immigration. These ill-thought-out and exaggerated demands presumably came about because the initiative for the proposal came from the HC himself, and was clearly unacceptable to the Yishuv. The Mufti and his advisers soon began to have second thoughts, and returned to their traditional inflexible position that any cooperation with the government was a tacit acceptance of the Mandate and the Balfour Declaration, and therefore a step too far. Sykes wrote: their acceptance would not have been the same kind of acceptance as that of the Zionists, and possibly they would have benefited from the clause concerning non-Jewish communities, but it meant an abandonment of their simpler and more heroic attitude of absolute rejection. They were protagonists in a national struggle, and nationalism needs the heroic. Their dilemma was a real one. They argued it among themselves while precious time went by.[8] Eventually the Colonial Secretary replied to the Arab demands, and informed them that there was no possibility of the total stoppage of Jewish immigration; however, he did invite them to send a delegation to London to discuss the possibility of introducing legislation which would prevent the sales of land to Jews, if those sales were to cause distress to the occupants. The Arabs said they would come, and then began the usual internal debate as to whether they were really prepared to accept the constitution. This was followed by the other interminable debate as to who their delegates should be.

In the meantime, on April 8, mainly as a result of the opposition encountered during the Parliamentary debates, the colonial secretary announced that the government no longer supported the idea of a legislative council. Typically, at that moment the Arabs said, “yes, we are coming,” but they still hadn’t decided who exactly would be in the delegation. As it turned out the Arab indecision didn’t make much difference, because ten days later the Arab Revolt broke out, and this put paid to any possibility of Arab–British cooperation. However, of all the various proposals to set up a legislative council throughout the mandate period, this was the one which came nearest to seeing the light of day. Whereas initially the Zionist leadership had been full of praise for Wauchope’s apparent closeness to Zionism, his crusade on behalf of the legislative council was very much against Zionist interests, so that once again the Yishuv was happy to see it fail. Having failed to bring the two sides closer together through his initiative, Wauchope said: Arab and Jewish aspirations are still too wide apart to allow of substantial reconciliation across the table, and neither Arab nor Jewish leaders have yet the moral courage to make the concessions necessary to secure a common measure of agreement and to face the political criticism which concessions would inevitably evoke[9] . Haj Amin el-Husseini, had been the Grand Mufti since the early 1920s and was also the president of the rich and influential Supreme Moslem Council. In 1936 he allowed himself to be persuaded to head the Arab Higher Committee, a new body set up to put pressure on the administration so that it would finally take positive action against immigration and land sales to Jews. His decision was probably ill advised in that he ran the risk of compromising the good relations he had enjoyed with the administration over many years. Whereas up to that point he had ostensibly been a religious leader, it now appeared that he was now openly stating that he was prepared to get involved in active politics. There was at this time a general feeling of dissatisfaction and frustration in the Arab community which the Arab Higher Committee was about to exploit. Among the reasons for this were: (a) the administration’s refusal to take action against the enormous rise in immigration and land sales to Jews; (b) the uncertainty regarding the legislative council proposal; and (c) a recent discovery of a shipment of arms at the Tel Aviv port which pointed to the fact that the Haganah was clearly honing its military capability. The Arab Higher Committee started off its career in the Arab political scene by organizing a national strike, together with a decision to withhold paying government taxes. Predictably, it also imposed a boycott on all Jewish goods and services. Wauchope saw this as a serious political blow, which would badly damage his policy of encouraging conciliation between the two communities. As it transpired, the Arabs achieved very little from the operation. The administration in retaliation

responded by demolishing more than two hundred Arab houses in Jaffa, claiming that they were insanitary, and when the Arabs decided to close the country’s main port of Jaffa, the Jewish Agency quickly applied for and received permission to build a new port in Tel Aviv, two kilometers up the road. The new situation also gave Jewish employers the excuse to carry out a policy of employing Jewish labor only, something which the hardliners of the Yishuv had been pressing for for many years but which had always been a controversial issue. The military commanders in Palestine wanted to deal with this insurrection with a heavy-handed show of strength, including the imposition of martial law. Wauchope’s policy, however, was to appear to be conciliatory but at the same time make clear that he was prepared to take tough action if need be. However, his failure to act decisively brought him widespread contempt and derision in Whitehall. A War Office spokesman stated that the HC’s method of dealing with the disturbances was entirely ineffective, and that he should have applied martial law and unfettered military control from the very beginning. By midsummer the political action had turned into military action. This was the beginning of the Arab Revolt. Arms and volunteers began to arrive in Palestine from neighboring Arab countries at a rate of two or three hundred a month, and Committees for the Defense of Palestine sprang up in the Levant, Iraq, and Transjordan. The forces were led by the Syrian Fawzi al-Qawukji, who saw himself as the Arab Garibaldi. In the early stages, organized terrorist attacks were directed against the Jews, with attacks on settlements and buses in country areas. A bomb was thrown in the Edison Cinema in Tel Aviv. By the summer of 1936 there were eighty-nine Jewish fatalities, plus a handful of British and several hundred Arab deaths. Despite this latest outbreak of pogroms, the Haganah decided that its policy was to not retaliate (translated by the Hebrew word, Havlagah), although the Revisionists refused to accept this decision. The British very quickly increased the number of their own troops to meet the breakdown in security, and battle lines were drawn up. It is interesting to speculate why the Arabs, who for nearly twenty years had lived in complete peace with the British and had never dreamed of any kind of armed insurrection against British authority, should have decided to take unprecedented military action at that moment. Two possible answers come to mind. First, this period coincided with the increased presence of the two fascist European powers, Germany and Italy, in the Mediterranean area. Both of them were looking to flex their muscles (Spanish Civil War, Abyssinia). Axis representatives were putting out tentative feelers and promising support and weapons to the Arabs in any future military conflict with the British. Second, neighboring Arab rulers were starting to take an interest in what was going on in Palestine, giving the impression that they would come to the aid of their Arab brothers. Palestine Arabs had virtually no weapons or means of organizing military units. They needed to look to Syria, Transjordan, Iraq, and Egypt for any military help they would give. This was the beginning of the new phenomenon of Pan-

Arabism. The Palestinian Arabs for the first time realized that they had friends outside the country. The Arab Revolt had two separate phases. The first was from April 1936 to September 1937. In this period the British military authorities did not take it too seriously. The Whitehall government was looking for a political solution, and in spite of the poor record of previous commissions of inquiry in Palestine, it decided to appoint a new Royal Commission under the leadership of Lord Peel, whose brief was to: ascertain the underlying causes of the disturbances . . . to inquire into the manner in which the Mandate of Palestine is being implemented in relation to the obligation of the Mandatory towards the Arabs and the Jews respectively, to ascertain whether upon a proper construction of the terms of the Mandate, either the Jews or the Arabs have any legitimate grievances upon account of the way in which the mandate has been or is being implemented: and if the commission is satisfied that any such grievances are well founded, to make recommendations for their removal and for the prevention of their recurrence[10] . It was clear from the precise and far reaching brief that the Commission was given, and the very high caliber of its members, that this would be a serious attempt to make some sense of the Palestine situation, which had reached a stalemate and seemed to be going nowhere. However, the job couldn’t be started until Palestine was quiet and hostilities had stopped. The Palestine Arab economy had been dislocated for six months, causing a serious commercial and financial crisis. This was about to become very serious in the autumn of 1936, because as the economy was heavily dependent on its citrus exports, the timing of the picking and marketing was crucial. At that moment the fruit was waiting to be picked from the orange groves but there was not going to be any means of transporting it out of the country because of the strike. This would have meant financial ruin to many Arab families, and a way had to be found of ending the revolt without the Arab Higher Committee losing face. It was the British government itself which came up with a solution to the problem. Now that Pan-Arabism had the potential of becoming a new factor in the Palestine equation, the British government, which traditionally had close relations with the Arab rulers of the adjacent countries, was prepared to take advantage of the relationship by putting pressure on the Kings of Saudi Arabia and Iraq, and the Emir Abdullah of Transjordan, urging them to intervene in order to break the deadlock in Palestine. Thus a deal was brokered whereby an Arab Higher Committee deputation would meet with the monarchs, following which the monarchs issued a joint communiqué, which read: to our sons, Arabs of Palestine We have been much distressed by the present situation in Palestine. In our agreement with our brothers, the Arab Kings and the Emir Abdullah we appeal to you to restore tranquility in order to prevent further

bloodshed, relying on the good intentions of our friend the British Government to see that justice is done. Be assured that we shall continue our endeavor to help you[11] . The Arab Higher Committee quickly accepted the regal request, and the strike was instantaneously halted, as were the military operations. Everybody then went home, but, much to the disgust of the military authorities, without giving up their weapons. The door was now open for the Peel Commission to make its long-awaited appearance.

The Royal Commission arrives in 1936, led by Lord Peel, the first proponent of partition in Palestine.

Zionist Archives, Jerusalem The second half of the Arab Revolt would begin a year later. Many commentators believe that the British had been much too easy on the rebels and should have smashed them with an iron fist. Much of the blame for the failure to take more positive action must be laid at Wauchope’s door. With hindsight, his conciliatory approach was judged to have been a completely wrong reading of the situation. All three parts of the Palestine triangle had high expectations that something substantial would come out of the commission. The British government would have been delighted to find a way by which it could extricate itself from the unfulfilled and unfulfillable Mandate and finish once and for all with its commitment to Zionism. In the event of the mandate ending, the Palestine Arabs could have looked forward to their long-awaited independence and majority rule in the country, and for the Zionists perhaps it would have led to the long-awaited Jewish Homeland coming about in Palestine. The Commission opened its hearings on November 5, 1936. Sixty-six meetings were held both in Jerusalem and London. At the beginning, the proceedings were

almost entirely dominated by Jewish witnesses, as the Arab leadership had banned Arabs from appearing before the Commission. There had been a great deal of discussion in cabinet as to whether it might have been politically useful if Jewish immigration were suspended during the time of the Commission hearings. On one hand it would have been seen as a gesture of goodwill, if the Zionists could have been persuaded to accept it. On the other hand it might have been seen as a reward for terror. In the event, the Colonial Office only issued 1,800 immigration visas for the next six months, a very low figure, to which the Jewish Agency reacted with disappointment and anger. For its part the Arab Higher Committee had expected a complete suspension of immigration, and this was the main reason why it refused to send any of its representatives to the hearings. However, the Saudi and Iraqi kings took it upon themselves to prod the Palestinian representatives to turn up, which they did in January 1937, closely followed by the Mufti himself. Of the Jewish witnesses, Weizmann and Ben-Gurion were the two who made the greatest impression on the commission members. Weizmann said: I believe the main cause which has produced the particular state of Jewry in the world is its attachment to Palestine. We are a stiff necked people. We never forget . . . This steadfastness which has preserved the Jews through the ages and through a career which is almost one chain of human suffering is primarily due to some physical or pathological attachment to Palestine. . . . in the East End of London, the Jew prays for dew in the summer and rain in the winter.[12] Ben-Gurion, slightly less emotionally, said: I say on behalf of the Jews that the Bible is our Mandate, the Bible which was written by us in our own language, in Hebrew, in this very country. That is our right. It was only the recognition of this right which was expressed in the Balfour Declaration.[13] The Commission’s reaction to the words coming from the Zionist side was a new phenomenon, because for the first time in the history of Commissions of inquiry following Arab riots, it did not immediately conclude that the Jews were to be blamed, if not condemned. Another witness whose words were to make a big impression was Winston Churchill, who had been the colonial secretary at the time of the 1922 White Paper, but at that moment was not in government office. He said: the British Government has not committed itself into turning Palestine into a Jewish State, but it certainly has committed itself to the idea that someday, somehow, far off in the future, subject to justice and economic convenience, there might be a great Jewish state there, numbered by millions far exceeding

the present inhabitants of the country. One of the members of the Commission, Sir Horace Rumbold, suggested to him that “it would be harsh injustice to subject the Arab ‘indigenous population’ to the invasion of a foreign race.” To this Churchill replied: the Arabs entered the area after the Jews, their great hordes of Islam smashed the place up, turning it into desert. “Where the Arab goes it is often desert.” In my view there is an injustice in the idea of leaving the Holy Land as a desert, when it could be in the hands of men and women of energy and enterprise who will plant it with orange groves.[14] Whereas Churchill had talked about “a Jewish state, far off in the future,” in fact, the far off in the future amounted to only eleven years. The witness on the Arab side who was most eagerly awaited was the Mufti. He started by attacking the Balfour Declaration, pointing out that as a result of the declaration the Jews had acquired large tracts of fertile Arab land, and it was their intention to destroy the Moslem holy places and rebuild their temple on the ruins. Asked whether Palestine was capable of absorbing the 400,000 Jews already living there, his one word answer was “No.” When Horace Rumbold then asked whether some of the Jews would have to be removed, Haj Amin said somewhat ominously: “We must leave all that to the future.” He added that the Arabs had fought with Britain during the war, expecting to receive their independence afterward. They did not want to be ruled by the British in place of being ruled by the Turks. For him the best scenario would be for the Balfour Declaration and the mandate to be annulled. Following that the sovereignty would be transferred to the Arabs, and following that they would deal with the Jews themselves.[15] (Also ominous.) The Commission finished its hearings in January 1937 and its Report of 404 pages was published in July. Among their findings, the Commissioners said: the disease is so deep that in our firm conviction the only hope of a cure lies in a surgical operation. An irrepressible conflict has arisen between two national communities within the narrow bounds of one small country. About one million Arabs are in strife, open or latent, with some four hundred thousand Jews. But while neither race can justly rule all Palestine, we see no reason why, if it were practicable each race should not rule part of it. Partition seems to offer at least a chance of ultimate peace. We can see none in any other plan.[16] The commission in its own words had described the Mandate as being “unworkable,” and therefore the logical solution was partition. It proceeded to put its map on the table showing how such a partition could be carried out. A future Jewish State would comprise a coastal strip south of Jaffa to the north of Haifa, plus the

Galilee, from the sea to the Syrian border. A corridor from Jaffa to Jerusalem would remain under permanent British rule, and the rest would be the new Arab State which would be attached to TransJordan. In addition the Commission made it clear that there would have to be a transfer of population between the proposed Jewish and Arab areas. This would involve 225,000 Arabs and 1,250 Jews moving to new areas. If this didn’t happen, the Jewish State would have had almost as many Arabs as Jews. The Commission wanted the exchange to be by agreement, with a fair compensation paid to those who were to be moved. But if the Arabs objected, the transfer would be carried out by the British: “in the last resort, by compulsion.” The CO was delighted with the Report. Ormsby-Gore saw in it the most honorable way for the CO to extricate itself from an impossible position. Exasperated by attacks on Britain from both Arabs and Jews, he was inclined to tell both of them that this was the government’s proposal and they could either take it or leave it. As a result, the government published a White Paper stating “that a scheme of partition on the suggested lines represents the best and most hopeful solution of the deadlock.” Thus the idea of partition was accepted in principle. The government then needed to decide how it could be made to work, and also needed to get the reactions of the interested parties. On the Zionist side there would presumably be a strong difference of opinion between the ZO headed by Weizmann and Ben-Gurion on one side, and Jabotinsky’s Revisionists, whose policy was that the Jews should take over the whole of Palestine on both sides of the Jordan, on the other. On the Arab side there were signs of a new political realignment, as a result of a growing disenchantment with the Mufti and his methods in many parts of the country. His permanent opposition, the Nashashibis, were moving closer to Abdullah, who began to see himself as the challenger to Haj Amin’s leadership who would put an end to his longtime hegemony. From the Zionist point of view the area that the Peel Report proposed for a future Jewish State was very small, but Weizmann’s thinking was that as this was the first time that any offer of a Jewish State had been made by Britain, as a first step toward the establishment of the promised Homeland, it must be better to take it while it was on offer, and then find a way of enlarging it later. Ben-Gurion, who usually found himself in disagreement with Weizmann, on this occasion agreed with him on the whole and was confident that in the future the Jews would find a way of acquiring a larger area, by fair means or foul. But he had a basic mistrust of the British, which left him rather cautious. In his own words, he wrote: we shall smash these frontiers which are being forced upon us, and not necessarily by war. I believe an agreement between us and the Arab states could be reached in a not too distant future. And if we bring hundreds of thousands of Jews into our State, if we can strengthen our economic and military

position, then a basis would be established for an agreement on the abolition of frontiers, between ourselves and the Arab State. As to the question of transfer, he wrote to his son as follows: the Jews’ acceptance of partition, that is, acceptance of only 20 percent of their Promised land, justified the transfer. We never wanted to dispossess the Arabs. But since England is giving part of the country promised to us, for an Arab state, it is only fair that the Arabs in our state be transferred to the Arab area.[17] In the period before the report was published, its contents were already well known by insiders in Whitehall, and Baffy Dugdale wrote in her diary that: “The Zionists should take what they are given even if it is the size of a pocket handkerchief.” When she was eventually shown the report itself by Walter Elliott, her “mole” inside the cabinet, her comment was that there was “nothing in all this that cannot be adjusted by negotiation,” and Weizmann said: on the whole it is not bad. The boundaries are more skimpy than I thought and what I was definitely given to understand. Somebody asked me what he should write about the boundaries. I asked him to place at the head of the article: “standing room only. [18] In August 1937, just a month after the publication of the Report, and before many of the 484 delegates had a chance to digest its contents, the Twentieth Zionist Congress took place in Zurich. Weizmann knew that he was going to have a hard time, especially from the Revisionists, in trying to convince the congress to accept his position on partition. The opposition led by veteran Zionist leader Menahem Ussishkin was unimpressed by the “pocket handkerchief” on offer. Other sticking points were the question of transfer, which many people thought would be very difficult both emotionally and logistically, and also the fact that Jerusalem was not to be part of the Jewish State. On this occasion Weizmann was at his oratorical best. Baffy wrote in her diary: “It was not a speech, it was an inspired utterance. He will never rise to these heights again—we shall never hear the like of it again.”[19] Two points that he made particularly struck home with the delegates. Firstly he said that there were approximately six million Jews under serious threat in Europe, but once an independent Jewish State came into existence he expected that at least two million of them could be absorbed in it. Secondly, he believed that if there were intensive cultivation of the fertile areas it would be possible to bring in one thousand immigrants annually. There was never any real likelihood that the congress would reject the partition plan outright, and by a majority of 142 it agreed to accept the following resolution

which asked for further clarification of just what was on offer. the Congress declares that the scheme of partition put forward by the Royal Commission is unacceptable. The Congress empowers the Executive to enter into negotiations with a view to ascertaining the precise terms of His Majesty’s Government for the proposed establishment of a Jewish State. In such negotiations the executive shall not commit itself or the Zionist Organization, but in the event of an emergence of a definite scheme for the establishment of a Jewish State such a scheme shall be brought before a newly elected Congress for consideration and decision[20] . Thus although the congress had given a qualified “no,” reading between the lines it appears that the door was still very much open, but the Zionists were either playing for time or looking to obtain a better deal after some tough negotiating. On the Arab side, whereas the Arab Higher Committee immediately and publicly condemned partition, Abdullah would have been very happy to have a new Arab state joined to Transjordan, giving him a great deal more power and territory. His fellow monarch Ibn Saud had never approved of Haj Amin’s messianic claims to be the leader of the Arab nationalist movement, but the response of the kings to the Arab Higher Committee condemnation was vague and cautious. A much more aggressive reaction was seen from the Syrian and Iraqi governments. The Iraqi Prime Minister warned that: “Any person [and he obviously meant Abdullah] venturing to agree to be the head of such a partitioned Arab state, would be regarded as an outcast throughout the Arab world, and will induce the wrath of Muslims all over the East.” The Iraqi government would have been glad to head the Arab nationalist movement, but as it had treaty obligations to Britain it needed to be careful not to upset Whitehall. The Syrian government, on the other hand, protected by the French mandate, had no such worries and proceeded to organize a Pan-Arab Congress in September 1937 in Bludan, Syria, to which four hundred delegates were invited. If the British government hoped that the Arabs were going to view the prospect of partition positively, these hopes were rudely shattered in Bludan. The congress chairman set the tone which the congress was to follow by declaring that Zionism was “a cancer,” that the declaration and the mandate were to be terminated, and that if Jewish immigration continued the Arab nations might turn away from Western democracies toward new alliances, which by implication meant Germany and Italy. This veiled threat was certainly taken seriously by Britain and especially so as Fawzi al-Qawukji had already met with a senior German foreign ministry official in Baghdad in July, and the Mufti had also met the German ambassador in Jerusalem. There was to follow a string of further diplomatic attacks in the following months: The Syrian government complained to the French High Commissioner about the partition plan. The Moslem Brotherhood in Egypt gave its moral support to the Palestinian Arabs and began a fund raising campaign. There were mass demonstrations in

Baghdad, a one-day strike in Mecca and Medina, a protest to the British Consul in Tunisia, and numerous Moslem demonstrations in India. A year later, in October 1938, a much larger congress was convened in Cairo which called itself the “World Inter-Parliamentary Congress of Arab and Moslem Countries for the Defense of Palestine.” Of those present various representatives pressed the claims of their governments to be the guardian of Palestine. All in all it was an unholy scrimmage. Ibn Saud’s representative reminded the gathering that they had met to enable the Palestinian to achieve independence and have a freedom of choice. In its final resolution the congress managed to achieve a consensus by repeating the often heard demands for voiding the Balfour Declaration, halting Jewish immigration, and forgetting about any idea of partition. If these demands were not met, Arab and Moslem peoples throughout the world would regard the British and Jews equally guilty and would turn elsewhere for economic and military support.[21] Britain was in no doubt what the Arabs thought about the Royal Commission, but it was impossible to know to what extent these were empty words or whether the Arabs meant business. Pan-Arabism was a new concept for the Arab world, and as yet nobody knew what teeth it had. Historically Britain had always laid down the law to the Arab monarchs, and they usually strove to avoid a confrontation. Whether Britain could bring these emerging Arab countries into line remained to be seen, but for the time being, and this is the crux of this chapter, the British government headed by the foreign office decided that at that moment it had to tread warily so that the Kings would at least remain neutral were there to be a war. The British government’s answer to the Peel proposals had been “yes” in principle but without going into details, and that “yes” was to remain on the table for a further year and a half. However, it was important for the government to get the approval of Parliament, the PMC, and the Palestine administration. It would have been made much easier if it could have found another body which shared its initial enthusiasm for partition. The two Houses of Parliament debated the Peel Report on July 20 and 21, 1937. According to Sykes there was no great enthusiasm for partition and the government spokesmen did not give a stimulating lead. The Zionist supporters in the Commons were also hardly convincing in their support of partition, and Sir Archibald Sinclair, the Liberal leader and a confirmed Zionist supporter, thought that the area of land allotted for the Jewish State was ridiculously small and would create a dangerous situation as its inhabitants strove to enlarge its boundaries.[22] In the Lords, Lord Peel contrived to defend his Report, but there was the impression that he was more pro-Arab than pro-Zionist. The speaker with the greatest knowledge and weight was Lord Samuel. He was immediately scathing about the report and could not see how a Jewish State could succeed if nearly 50 percent of its inhabitants were to be Arabs. He also did not believe that transfer would work, and foresaw great conflict between Jews and Arabs. He criticized the new borders, which he said would lead to administrative and customs problems and

confusion. He went on to say that a better solution would be to create a federation of Arab states in which Jews would be able to settle and live as a minority, peaceably and without Arab interference. In this area Jews would not be able to acquire land, and immigration would be limited to twelve thousand a year for a limited period, a figure proposed by Peel. Jews would never be more than 40 percent of the population. The government took careful note of everything that he had to say and in particular his recommendation that the Jews should never be more than 40 percent of the population. This figure was to be the starting point in many of the negotiations which took place prior to and during the St James Conference and the 1939 White Paper. The Jewish leadership was horrified by what Samuel had to say and was quick to stress that his views represented nobody but himself. If Samuel still had any Zionist friends left after his disastrous term of office in Palestine, they surely now must have finally crossed him off their list. There was no final decision by the Commons except to discuss it again after the PMC had given its opinion and then set up a Select Committee to consider it. Baffy and friends considered the whole operation as “a complete misfortune.” As the government had not succeeded in getting approval or a firm line from Parliament, there was a danger that the whole question of partition would be put into cold storage for the time being, and in the absence of any other initiative on its behalf, the whole idea might be conveniently forgotten. The Colonial Secretary, Ormsby-Gore, appeared before the PMC in Geneva in August. The Commission said that whereas it was in favor of partition in theory, it would not want two states to be created right away and that “a prolongation of the period of political apprenticeship constituted by the Mandate would be absolutely essential both to the new Arab State and to the new Jewish State[23] .” In addition, Foreign Minister Anthony Eden appeared before the Council of the League, and was told that as Britain was still considering the implications of a solution by partition, the government should come back later when it had finished its investigations and in the meantime the mandate would continue as before. The council further adopted a resolution that “it was convinced that the problem of Palestine will be equitably settled, account being taken to the fullest extent of all the legitimate interests at stake.” Thus, the British government had only received a number of predictable platitudes from the PMC, which evidently was not very enthusiastic, and had been told to go away and do its homework. As regards the Palestinian administration, Wauchope had given his backing to the Peel Report at the time of its publication, when he was in London. However, on a later visit just before the parliamentary debates, in meetings with MPs he now gave the impression of being much less enthusiastic about the idea. This change of attitude clearly influenced the members of both Houses whom he met before the debates, and contributed to their own apathy. The various reactions to the Peel Report in the summer of 1937 in London,

Jerusalem, Geneva, Zurich, and Bloudan, amongst others, were observed very carefully by the government, and although it had not retreated from its initial acceptance of the basic ideas presented in the report, there was a feeling that partition was a long way away. It went even further away in September when the Arab Revolt, which had taken time out during the Peel Commission deliberations, resumed its murderous path, a path which was to continue until the outbreak of World War II. The resumption started off with the tragic assassination of Lewis Andrews, the district commissioner of the Galilee, by one of the Mufti’s hit squads. Such a murder of a senior administration officer had never happened before. All officials of his rank had permanent bodyguards, but this didn’t help him as he made his way to church. The reaction by the British authorities was immediate and drastic. The Arab Higher Committee was disbanded and five of its leaders were arrested and shipped off to the Seychelles. The Mufti lost his Presidency of the Supreme Moslem Council and a warrant was issued for his arrest. He, however, was evidently prepared for such an eventuality, and ran to hide in the Haram esh-Sharrif in Jerusalem, believing that the army or police would not dare to enter this Moslem holy site. But with second thoughts, he decided that it would be better to get out of the country altogether, and dressed in woman’s clothes he climbed down from the walls and hotfooted it to Lebanon, never again to be seen in Palestine. This, however, was by no means the end of him or his anti-British/anti-Zionist activities, as for another thirty-seven years, until his death in 1974, he moved from one Arab country to another, in addition to spending some of the war years in Berlin, and never ceased to orchestrate the Palestine Arab Nationalist cause from afar. The other person to lose his job in October as a result of the resumption of the rebellion was High Commissioner Wauchope. In the opinion of his Whitehall bosses, he had not been tough enough in dealing with the Arab insurgents. There is something ironic in the government’s decision to make him the scapegoat, as for the whole period of the mandate so far, the government itself had continuously shied away from efforts to rein in Arab violence. The Yishuv was generally sorry to see him leave. In 1938 a Wauchope Bridge was built over the Ha’Yarkon river in Tel Aviv, in his honor. It must be one of the few monuments erected to honor a British high commissioner, and he personally presented a bust of Shmaryahu Levin to the Tel Aviv Museum of Art. Without detailing all of the cruel and horrific events that took place during the following two years of the Arab Revolt, it should be noted that it was the first time that the British army had been called upon to put down Arab violence in Palestine, and its methods were particularly brutal, as was reported at the time: the small town of Miar, north of Haifa, became known as the center of Arab rebel activity. Troops who ventured near it were fired upon, roads were dug up with pneumatic drills, landmines were laid and electricity cables skillfully cut. On

October 26th two British battalions launched a punitive raid against Miar and started blowing up the main houses of the village with dynamite. The village chief (muchtar) was then told that if the rebels handed in their rifles, the dynamiting would stop and no questions would be asked, but no rifles appeared and the punishment continued[24] . A New York Times correspondent on the spot wrote: “When the troops left there was little else remaining in the center of the once busy village except a pile of mangled masonry.” On January 26, the New York Times wrote: “The hangman’s black flag was hoisted three times over the Acre fortress as a grim token of British determination to wipe out terror in Palestine.” On February 1 a band of about one hundred rebels was surrounded on a wooded hill near Haifa and bombed from the air. Fifteen of them were killed or wounded. In 1938, 69 British, 292 Jews, and 1,600 Arab rebels were killed in the fighting. Among the Arab fatalities, a great number were caused by the Arabs themselves who cruelly punished anyone in the community found guilty of desertion, collaboration, or supplying information to the British. At this time British High Command, under increasing pressure, had to admit that it did not have any great experience of guerrilla warfare, nor of night operations, and decided to join forces with the Haganah against the rebels. The decision was particularly controversial because the Haganah up to that time had always been considered to be an illegal organization. The combination was very well received by the Yishuv. In a short period during 1938/1939, the British officer Orde Wingate, who was to become a legendary figure in Palestine, was given the responsibility for setting up and running the “special night squads” which confronted and destroyed many Arab guerrilla bands. Many high ranking officers in the future Israeli army believed that they learned their profession under Wingate in that period. Whereas none of the interested parties had come out with clear support for the Peel proposals, partition still remained the preferred choice of the government. At the beginning of 1938 Weizmann also decided to come out firmly in support of partition. His reasoning was that as the Arabs had become more and more concerned about a possible Jewish majority in Palestine, if the Zionists did not take accept the small area on offer, in the near future the British government might well have set up an Arab State in which the Jews would be a minority, and where immigration would be reduced to a minimum and there would be no possibility of acquiring land. When making his decision known, Weizmann deliberately attacked the Revisionists’ demand that the whole of Palestine had to be for the Jews. Baffy believed that it was a great pity that the Zurich Congress had not understood the point about taking what was on offer, and taking it quickly, because by March 1938 nearly a year had passed and the government looked like it was cooling off from its first enthusiastic embrace of partition, mainly because of the strong opposition of the Arabs inside and outside Palestine.

When Weizmann made this point to British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain at around the same time, he said: “Why do you worry so much? Why are you so uneasy? We are committed to partition.”[25] Chaim was not really convinced. Chamberlain’s statement at that moment was some distance from the truth. Whereas it was the CO which traditionally had the responsibility for Palestine, with the unfolding of great world events in 1937, the FO decided that it now needed to have tight control over all the important decisions which affected Britain’s worldwide interests, including those in the Middle East. Thus the CO was about to lose a client, and as events turned out it was a change which was to prove particularly significant for Zionism. When the partition plan was published, the CO was for it and the FO against it. The CO’s position was that as Britain had made a commitment to Zionism, it had a moral duty to attempt to carry it out. The FO had no such scruples. Michael Cohen believes that as far as the FO was concerned, Britain had already fulfilled its commitment toward the Jews. In the twenty-year period since the Balfour Declaration, the Zionist leadership had enjoyed a very “cozy” relationship with the CO. At least two colonial secretaries, Amery and Ormsby-Gore (and possibly Churchill), had been and still were very good friends of Zionism and Weizmann. The Zionists would not find their equivalent in the FO. With Anthony Eden becoming more and more involved in wider issues, the job of looking after the Middle East was taken on by George Rendel, the head of the FO Eastern Department. Ormsby-Gore did not take kindly to him or his decisions and the two men often clashed over policy matters. Rendel was a romantic “Arabophile” in the genre of T. E. Lawrence and St. John Philby, and was opposed to a Jewish Homeland in Palestine at any price. He immediately stated that he saw himself as having a duty to contact the Peel Commission in order to point out that the present government policy in Palestine would lead to the Arabs becoming a minority in a Jewish state.[26] Reacting to this, Ormsby-Gore wrote: I realize that Mr. Rendel is a sincere pro-Arab and anti-Jew, and a critic of His Majesty’s policy of carrying out the Mandate of the League of Nations, but that he has the right to submit to a Royal Commission his erroneous opinion of that policy is a right I cannot admit.[27] The FO’s main opposition to the Peel Report was that the proposed Jewish State could only come about and survive with the protection of a substantial British military force, and this would not be acceptable to the neighboring Arab monarchs. As at that moment there were clear signs that a major military conflict was imminent in Europe, it was essential for Britain to keep these royal gentlemen sweet, and on Britain’s side. Rendel also stated that instead of blaming the troubles on “conflicting

nationalisms,” the government should make a frank admission that the integral fulfillment of the mandatory’s obligations had proved impossible. This was probably the first time that a senior British government official had openly admitted that the mandate couldn’t work. At the same time, he attacked Gore’s and the Colonial Office’s “indecent haste with which they sought to divest themselves from all responsibility for Palestine at the earliest possible moment.” CO officials would not have denied that they would have welcomed a sensible alternative to the “unhappy” mandate, although they would not have agreed with the words of the Peel Report, which said that it was “unworkable.” Partition would have offered an honorable exit from an ignominious quasi-colonial episode. A CO spokesman said: the falseness of our position hampered us at every turn: now at length we have a means of escape by which we can do substantial justice to both parties and clean our conscience of the odious imputation of breach of faith. We are in sight of the shore after a prolonged buffeting in heavy seas. Are we to scuttle the lifeboat merely because the coast looks rocky and dangerous.[28] It was now becoming clear that the CO was being outgunned by the FO, and in an effort to halt a complete FO takeover, Gore wrote to Eden stating that unless he got backing from the FO for his ministry’s policy in Palestine, he would tell the prime minister that he could no longer be responsible for the country. With the resumption of the revolt, the FO made the decision that even though Britain needed to take extreme measures to put down the revolt, at the same time it also needed to find a path of conciliation which it could eventually offer the Arabs. This would mean putting an end to the idea of partition, and the idea of a Jewish Homeland. In December 1937 the FO started on its path of rejecting partition. Although Ormsby-Gore briefly objected, his resistance disappeared once the PM in Cabinet threw his great weight behind the FO position. In his mind if there was a choice between offending the Jews or the Arabs, it was the Arabs who should be given the nod. Thus his assurance to Weizmann above was well wide of the mark. However, as O’Brien pointed out the government did not want to be seen to be surrendering to Arab pressure, and so there was to be no announcement of this major change in policy for the time being.[29] At the beginning of 1938 partition was effectively dead, but as the death had not yet been announced, the Arabs and Britain needlessly carried on fighting and losing lives for more than a year for something which no longer had any meaning. As part of the fiction that partition was still alive, the cabinet decided in February 1938 to send another Commission to Palestine led by Sir John Woodhead, ostensibly to “ascertain facts and consider in detail the practical possibilities of a scheme of partition.” In reality, as Benny Morris wrote: “It was a sop to the Zionists—and its true purpose was to bury partition.” The government expected the commission to state

categorically that partition would not work, and it is rumored that Woodhead was given secret instructions by George Rendel before leaving to ensure that he understood what his real mission was. The Commission arrived in Palestine in April and stayed for two months. The Arab leadership, true to form, forbade Palestine Arabs to meet with its members, who had to make do with the Jews and the administration officials. In its report the Commission found that the Jewish State suggested by Peel, Plan A, was impracticable because of the large number of Arabs who would be residing in it. The fact that the government had already decided that it would not approve of the transfer of Arabs from the proposed Jewish State made the whole mission a mockery. This plan was also pessimistic about the fact that there would not be sufficient cultivatable land in the allotted area, nor could it envisage extensive successful economic development or intensive settlement. A second suggestion, Plan B, was basically the same as Plan A but with the Galilee taken away, and Plan C proposed that the whole of northern Palestine should be given to the Arabs, the southern part should remain as part of the mandate, and the middle part split into three. Each of the four members of the Commission rejected Plan A, one preferred Plan B, and two had reservations about Plan C. Hardly a united front. From the outset the word must have got out that the government had already decided not to proceed with the partition plan. They were merely going through the motions of composing a report which would only be useful to the politicians. As a result the whole of their attitude toward their mission was lowkey and half-hearted. Whereas the Peel Commission had received many compliments as to the high level of experience and competence of the members, the same thing could not be said about Sir John’s team, whose members had all been civil servants in India. One of its members, a Mr. Thomas Reid, in an interview with a Jewish Agency executive on the boat home before the Commission Report was published, had the following to say: Zionism is not a wise movement for the Jews to foster. It is the same nationalism that we object to in Hitler. The real solution for the Jewish problem is that adopted by the Bolsheviks, assimilation. If you have to have a Jewish state find a territory which is uninhabited. You have no right to displace the Arabs of Palestine. The 450,000 Jews in Palestine can stay but you cannot expect to establish a state in another people’s territory. Of course, Some of my best friends are Jews (my emphasis) and I sympathize with you, but you are pursuing a misguided policy by trying to set up a Jewish nationality and a State.[30] Chamberlain got the report that he had demanded, namely that in its opinion the commission believed that each of the plans under consideration would lead to large economic deficits in the Arab areas. It concluded its report by stating:

on a strict interpretation of our terms of reference, we have no alternative but to report that we are unable to recommend boundaries for the proposed areas which will afford a reasonable prospect of the eventual establishment of self supporting Arab and Jewish states. In a White Paper issued on November 9, the government announced that following a careful study of the Commission’s report, it had reached the conclusion that the political, administrative, and financial difficulties involved in the proposal to create separate Arab and Jewish States inside Palestine were so great that this solution to the problem was impracticable. November 9, 1938, must qualify as one of the blackest days in Zionist history so far. For twenty-nine years there had been the promise of a Jewish Homeland which Britain was committed to helping to create. Whereas the promise was far from being fulfilled, the possibility of partitioning Palestine and creating a small Jewish State had been approved in a White Paper in the previous year. But now the government had rejected partition, and the most likely outcome was that it would be the Arabs who would end up with a homeland in Palestine, and the Jews would be have to be satisfied with a minority status, an impotent, captive people returning to a ghetto within an Arab confederation. Britain appeared to have shut the door. Ormsby-Gore described this new government policy as: ““a betrayal so dishonorable, and a surrender to force so conspicuous, as to earn us as much contempt as the gratitude of the Moslem world.””[31] Strongly criticizing the findings of the Woodhead Commission, the Jewish Agency issued a statement pointing out that the Commission seemed to have ignored Britain’s commitment to the Jewish people, and was proposing an area for the Jews which would be less than one twentieth of the whole of western Palestine. In the following chapter we will attempt to find out how, after closing the door leading to a State of their own, the British government proposed dealing with the 400,000 Jews living in Palestine for whom it had a legal responsibility. It would need to come up with a reasonable plan acceptable to the Yishuv, to world Jewry, and presumably, also to the League of Nations. This chapter has described turning Arab tables. Throughout the Mandate period the sole unchanging Arab demand was for independence. Any question of peaceful coexistence with the Zionists whose numbers were forever growing was of no interest to them, and especially so as the Zionists had suddenly become hooked on a new word, ““parity.”” The Arab Riots of 1920 and 1921 protesting against the increased Jewish presence were small beer. 1929 was a much more serious pogrom and was taken seriously in Whitehall. However, the Jews kept on coming and acquiring more and more Arab land. The British government had clearly underestimated how the Arabs would react to the great influx of immigrants in the early 1930s. The creation of the Arab Higher Committee and the Mufti’s decision to head it should have set off alarm bells. Over the years the Arab leadership had constantly tried to show the British government and

the Palestinian administration the extent of its displeasure and frustration, without resorting to actual threats. The idea of taking up arms against the mandatory had always seemed to be something which the Arabs could not contemplate, and in any case they had no means of acquiring or storing such arms under tight British security and surveillance. The bubble burst in 1937 at a time when outside forces, regimes, and kings started to get involved in Palestine and suddenly the idea of a military solution for the Arabs became a distinct possibility. Obviously Britain had no choice but to put the Arab Revolt down by force, at great cost to themselves and the Arabs, but it then had to decide whether at long last it was going to discard the carrot for the stick. Viewed from today’s perspective it would seem that the time had come to put the British foot down on the permanently intransigent Arab. However, at that moment the excuse was given that with a serious war in Europe on the horizon the government needed to box cleverly. The only occasion when the administration, as distinct from the army, responded to Arab violence was when it at long last expelled the Mufti and his support group. If British governments over many years had understood the Arab mentality better, they would have realized that as long as there was no stick in sight the Arabs would continue to laugh at not-so Great Britain and remember how it was when the Ottomans ran Palestine.

NOTES 1. Kisch, p. 438. 2. ibid, p. 448. 3. Pearlman, Ben-Gurion Looks Back, p. 72. 4. Weizmann, p. 426. 5. Shepherd, p. 185. 6. Cohen, p. 206. 7. Dugdale, Diaries, pp. 6, 10. 8. Sykes, p. 180. 9. Wauchope to Thomas (Colonial Secretary), PRO CO 733/297 file 75156/II, 18/4/1936. 10. British Government announcement of terms of Royal Commission, 29/7/1923. 11. Porath, p. 214. 12. Peel Commission Minutes. 13. ibid. 14. ibid. 15. ibid. 16. ibid, Chapter XX. 17. Morris, Righteous Victims, p. 139. 18. Rose, Chaim Weizmann, a Biography, pp. 323–24. 19. Dugdale, pp. 57–58, 4/8/37. 20. Resolution of XX Zionist Congress, 17/8/1937.

21. Sachar, Europe Leaves the Middle East, pp. 87–89. 22. Sykes, p. 207. 23. Permanent Mandates Commission, minutes of the thirty-second (extraordinary) session, Geneva 1937. 24. The Times, 27/10/1938. 25. Dugdale, p. 87. 26. Michael Cohen, Retreat from the Mandate, pp. 32, 33. 27. CO, 733/348 75550, 69b, 14/4/37. 28. Downie, CO733/354, 75732, 6/12/37. 29. O’Brien, p.232. 30. B. Joseph to M. Shertok, ISA, LK/21, 7/8/38. 31. J. Martin, CO, 733/354 7573016, 21/1/38.

Chapter 11

Appeasement Rules the Waves The historian Paul Kennedy defines appeasement as: the policy of settling international quarrels by admitting and satisfying grievances through rational negotiation and compromise, thereby avoiding the resort to an armed conflict which would be expensive, bloody and possibly dangerous.[1] When judged after the event whether the appeasement had been worthwhile, we should not only establish that there had been the likelihood of an armed conflict, which might have been “expensive, bloody and dangerous,” but having climbed down in the face of aggression, the appeaser might also want to decide whether the result of his appeasement had been justified and whether anybody had suffered unduly as a result of it. In the 1930s the option of appeasement had become an accepted phenomenon because it was seen as a reasonable alternative to the revulsion which was felt as a result of the horrors of World War I. It will be instructive to consider three cases of such appeasement. In 1931 Japan invaded Manchuria. Its motives were conquest and acquisition of territory. The League of Nations, of which Britain was a senior member, decided not to confront Japan or to express its complete opposition. In 1935 Italy invaded Abyssinia. Once again the League chose not to act, and Britain completed a secret agreement with Mussolini giving him carte blanche to take over two thirds of the country. This would hopefully satisfy Il Duce and would remove the threat to British Middle East interests. Following Hitler’s rise to power in 1933, Nazism quickly spread through Germany and by 1938 it was clear that the Fuhrer had plans to take over Europe. Prime Minister Chamberlain’s answer was to travel to Munich in 1938 in order to conclude a deal which would contain Nazi ambitions and lead to “peace in our time.” In all of these three cases of appeasement of Fascist dictators there was armed conflict either in progress, or in the offing. The appeasers thought that they had bought peace, notwithstanding the cost to the Manchurian, Abyssinian, and Czechoslovakian people, but they were sadly disillusioned because of the undue suffering that ensued. Appeasement was also an integral part of how the British government ran Palestine. Three of the first four High Commissioners (Plumer was the exception) concluded that if the Arabs were not appeased, they were capable of causing a great deal of trouble to the Palestine administration and Great Britain, and presumably they considered that their decision had been right because up to 1936 no Arab hand was lifted against the mandatory. When the situation changed with the Arab Revolt, the war between Arabs and British was bitter and cruel. The superior British military forces waged the war with an iron fist and there were many casualties on both sides. During these three years the

Palestinian Arabs did not need to be appeased, but at the same time Whitehall was making strenuous efforts to keep the outside Arab rulers happy. With the approach of the European war the politicians and military planners dreaded the possibility of the Arabs going over to the Axis side. Stability had to be returned to Palestine and Arab support had to be guaranteed whatever the price. Chamberlain, believing in the autumn of 1938 that he had successfully appeased Hitler, so that war with Germany was no longer on the cards, believed that the Arabs could be appeased and kept quiet in the same way. The difference, however, was that Hitler was a proven dangerous foe bent on occupation and destruction, and whereas the Arabs had revolted on a small scale, they had needed the backing of the neighboring Arab rulers. These monarchs in the main were traditionally pro-British, and very unlikely to help Palestine Arab extremists carry out an expensive, bloody, and dangerous conflict against the British and their allies in time of war. Appeasement in the 1930s had damaged the people of Manchuria, Abyssinia, and Czechoslovakia, but the appeasers considered the price to be small. Appeasement of the Arabs would cause great damage and distress to world Jewry, in addition to breaking a long-standing commitment, which the Chamberlain government possibly considered to be out of date anyway. In May 1938 William “Bill” Ormsby-Gore gave up his struggle against the FO and announced his retirement from politics. In Barnet Litvinoff’s words, “Ormsby-Gore was now tired of Palestine, tired of politics in general and impatient to withdraw to his Welsh estates.” Bill had been very committed to Zionism. He had been a member of the 1918 Palestine commission, and was also a good friend of Weizmann and Baffy. He would be succeeded by Malcolm MacDonald, son of Ramsay who had also been a good friend. It was presumed that the son would be likewise. In her diary Baffy wrote: while I was in the Chair at the Zionist Political Committee, news came on the telephone that Malcolm MacDonald was the new Colonial Secretary. I think that this is the best appointment that could be made from the Jewish point of view.[2] In its November White Paper that effectively closed the door to the creation of a Jewish Homeland in Palestine, the government made a presumably serious proposal that Arabs and Jews should meet, together with government representatives, in order to sort out their future. In view of the history of complete refusal by the Arabs to have any formal contact with a Zionist body, the proposal might have seemed a little farfetched. The government, however, was not deterred by this minor detail and had been planning such a conference for some months. Now that the partition plan was history, it announced that a conference would take place three months later at St James’ Palace London in February 1939. It was understood that if the two sides were unable to come up with a solution as to how they could live together in Palestine, the British government would step in and impose

its own solution. The state of play in the minds of the British government was that it had made it clear that the Arabs, and especially the neighboring Arab rulers, must be kept quiet and happy at least during the coming war period. The Jews were not seen as obstacle or threat to Britain’s future war plans, and so there was no necessity to keep them “quiet or happy.” The Jews needed Britain, but Britain did not need the Jews in practical terms. The only real hope for Zionism was that Britain still felt that it had to honor its commitment to the Balfour Declaration and the Mandate agreement. These two documents were sacred for the Zionists. How important were they for the British in early 1939? The leaders of the Jewish Agency and Zionist Organization, on their way to St James, must have known in their hearts and heads what the answer would be. They had virtually no cards to play, and the honor card was unlikely to be very effective at that critical moment. Their journey to London must have been full of dread. The one forlorn hope for some Zionist leaders was that Malcolm MacDonald had always been a good friend of Zionism and Zionists, and so surely he would be on their side. The year 1937 had been a purple patch for Zionism and the Yishuv. The recent flow of immigrants had been successfully absorbed, the economy was thriving, work was available, and relations with the administration and the Colonial Office were good. Although the Arabs had taken up arms against British rulers in Palestine and there had been Jewish casualties, in the main the Yishuv did not envisage that it was on the verge of a crisis. Eighteen months later however, with the advent of a large scale Arab Revolt and the takeover bid by the Foreign Office, the future looked decidedly bleak. The consensus in government circles was that eventually Jews and Arabs would have to solve their own destiny in Palestine. Over the years the Zionists had generally been discouraged by the failure to break down the wall dividing them from the Arabs. The beginnings of a breakthrough came in the 1937/1938 period largely because with the arrival of Pan-Arabism there were suddenly individuals and bodies other than Palestinian Arabs, tainted by their association with the Mufti, who could be prospective partners in talks and discussions which would benefit both communities. Talks began to take place between the two sides on an individual basis. Many of those involved were senior people with a good deal of experience and knowledge of Palestine. They were, however, acting in a private capacity, and were not necessarily representing the views of the two most influential bodies, the Jewish Agency Executive and the Arab Higher Committee. The factor which led to the timing of these initiatives was the growing realization that the mandate was breaking down, and as an alternative the British government might well decide to partition the country, which neither community would have been happy about. Thus there was a common interest in looking for some alternative. In April 1936 Ben-Gurion and Magnes met with George Antonius, a highly respected, intelligent Christian Arab, but the Arab Revolt brought their talks to an

inconclusive end. In September 1936 Samuel together with Lord Winterton—a parliamentary lobbyist for the Arab cause—met Nuri as-Sa’id, the Iraqi foreign minister, in Paris to discuss the proposals which Samuel had made earlier in the House of Lords. The most important proposal was that after a period of ten years the Jews should not exceed 40 percent of the total Palestine population. Nuri, however, rejected the proposals and also the idea that the Jews should have parity on the proposed legislative council. He thought he would get a better deal from the forthcoming Peel Commission. In October 1936 Pinhas Rutenberg approached Abdullah, whom he had met previously when the two men discussed the possibility of TransJordan being opened for Jewish settlement. On this occasion Rutenberg asked the Emir to write to the Peel Commission stating that he fully supported Jewish-Arab collaboration in Palestine and TransJordan. Abdullah, however, was not very forthcoming and the initiative came to nothing. In April 1937 Moshe Shertok, head of the political department of the Jewish Agency, arranged meetings with Auni Abd el-Hadi and Jamil Mardam, two important Syrian politicians, and suggested that Jews and Arabs should work together to prevent partition. Auni, however, said that there was no ground on which an ArabZionist compromise could be built “because the Jews were being protected by Britain while the Arabs were fighting her.” At the 1937 coronation in London, Ben-Gurion, presumably one of the guests, met with H. St.-J Philby and Captain Armstrong at the Atheneum Club. Philby was Ibn Saud’s political adviser and B-G considered Saud to be the only monarch on the Arab side not completely hostile to Jews and Zionism. Following a wide ranging discussion it was clear that there was no sympathy between their respective positions. Philby said he would try to get B-G a meeting with the King, but it never came about. At the same time Norman Bentwich, who as we have seen had a long and successful career in Palestine, managed to arrange a meeting with James Husseini, the Mufti’s cousin, in London, a meeting which could not have taken place in Palestine. They had a common interest in opposing the partition, and a fear that the British would impose it on the two sides. Husseini wanted Bentwich to take a proposal to the ZO which offered the idea of a cantonal plan for Palestine, a restriction on immigration, and the unification of Western Palestine and Transjordan. The Jewish Agency Executive said a firm “no” to this and most other proposals, believing in the main that only the ZO had the requisite knowledge and expertise to deal with Arab–Jewish peace initiatives, because its members had an overall view of the whole Middle East picture, which willing and enthusiastic amateurs did not have. There was also the need in its opinion to maintain a united front. An agency official said: “our super clever Jews have provided most welcome ammunition to our enemies who were building great hopes on the dissensions in the Jewish camp.”[3] In the autumn of 1937 various Arab leaders started to make overtures to the Zionist side. Among these leaders were representatives from the Nashashibi and

Barghuti families and Khalusi al-Khairi from Palestine, Shukri al-Quwatli, Jamil Mardam, and Dr. Shahbandar from Syria, and from Iraq, Nuri as-Sa’id. Among their proposals were a plan for a confederation of Arab States, within which three thousand Jewish refugees from Europe would be accepted and settled, and a guaranteed minority status for Jews in Palestine, with a ceiling figure of 36 percent of the total population. Weizmann’s immediate response was that the Jews would never accept a suggestion that they should be a permanent minority in Palestine. Nuri also urged Palestinian Arabs to appear before the Woodhead Commission and to agree to meet Jews to discuss his federation scheme. He believed that by acting responsibly and reasonably this would impress the British, who were about to impose partition. One of the more serious and well-constructed proposals for a peace agreement came from Albert Hyamson, whom we know well from his time as head of the Palestine Immigration Department, and Colonel Stewart Newcombe, a lobbyist for the Palestine Information Centre in London. Their proposal submitted to the CO and the ZO in May 1937 was based on a nine-point plan which called for the ultimate independence of Palestine, based on a transition period of national communal autonomy (“a Jewish National Home but not a Jewish State”) and an upper limit to the proportion of Jews in the overall population of Palestine (to be combined with Transjordan) to be set at “less than 50 percent of the total.”[4] The Jewish Agency Executive was unenthusiastic but felt morally bound to take the proposals seriously. However by December it had come to the conclusion that: (a) no Arab spokesman had agreed that the percentage of the Jewish population could be 49 percent—the figures being quoted were 30 percent, 35 percent, or 40 percent; and (b) whereas the Hyamson-Newcombe plan talked about a transitional period during which the level of the Jewish population was to be limited, in reality what was being suggested was that was to be the final figure, which of course was very different. Messrs. Hyamson and Newman then went away and produced a revised version which had wide support of the Beirut Arabs, including Haj Amin, the ex-Mufti, and Judah Magnes. This version however was completely unacceptable to the Zionist side as it proposed that the maximum Jewish population of Palestine should be the size of the present population. Shertok not only emphatically rejected the terms but said that even for the Jews to be willing to discuss such terms would seriously damage their political position vis-a-vis England. The Jewish Agency was beginning to get the message that there were certain elements coming up with proposals which were very far from its own stated policy, which was to refuse to consider any proposal for a fixed minority status for the Jews of the Yishuv. The problem was that some individuals involved in these proposals gave the impression that they had official Jewish Agency Executive backing, which could have proved puzzling and even dangerous in the eyes of the British government. The individual who caused the greatest consternation to the Zionist establishment, which he continuously opposed, was the “loose cannon” Dr. Judah

Magnes, whom we met in chapter 6. After Shertok had definitely said no to the second Hyamson-Newcombe initiative, Magnes took it upon himself to travel to Beirut and meet Nuri as-Sa’id in the hope of producing a third version. His thinking was that they should have a meeting “on any basis,” because he believed that the two sides coming together was so all-important. Nuri, reporting to the British on their discussions, said that Magnes had not only promised to work for an agreement “based on the principle of a permanent minority status for the Jews,” but had also predicted that if the Jewish Agency Executive did not agree, “the English, American and German Jews would break away from the Executive and work for a settlement separately.” Magnes’ credibility in Zionist decision-making circles had dropped to rock bottom, especially as the rumor had reached British ears that some members of the Executive were prepared to accept permanent minority status in Palestine for the sake of an agreement with the Arabs. The JAE had instructed Shertok to write to Magnes and demand an explanation of his negotiations with Nuri Said. As Ben-Gurion wrote: if it transpired that Dr Magnes had negotiated with Nuri Said, he, Shertok would propose to the Executive that Dr Magnes be asked to end all his political activities. For years now Dr Magnes had been dabbling in politics of his own accord, without the slightest indication of success. On the contrary he had only been doing damage.[5] The series of attempted rapprochements between the two sides were sparked off by a common interest to prevent partition. The positive element in the contacts was that for the first time since the beginning of the mandate, Jews and Arabs in senior positions had begun to talk to each other. But obviously for there to have been a truly serious meeting of minds it would have needed a meeting between representatives of the Jewish Agency Executive and the Arab Higher Committee. Some aspects of these private meetings were considered seriously for a while, but as there was no way of getting over the sticking point which divided them, the initiatives all eventually died a natural death. The sticking point in all the negotiations was the Arab insistence on a complete halt to Jewish immigration, and a Jewish population limited by an agreed permanent minority status. To this idea Ben-Gurion said: only someone who doesn’t know the Jews would be able to imagine the absurdity of the Jews agreeing to the creation of a ghetto in Palestine placed under the protection of Messrs Haj Amin el-Husseini, Fawzi al-Qawukj (Arab Revolt leader), and their friends.[6] Having failed to arrive at any consensus the two sides were now in the hands of the British, who were somewhat preoccupied with the major European war which was on the horizon. Once the partition idea had been discarded, the Arabs believed that

they had won and thereafter they were going to be able to dictate terms to Whitehall. Thanks to Pan-Arabism it seemed that their long-awaited independence was just around the corner. The Zionists, on the other hand, saw themselves as having lost badly and awaited a British decision as to the future of the Yishuv, and of Zionism. Michael Cohen poses the question why there was no Zionist political revolt against the government similar to the one they had waged in 1931 which had led to the Passfield White Paper being overturned. It must have been clear to Weizmann and friends in 1938 that the partition plan was going to be rejected, and if so this spelled the end of the Homeland, at least for the time being. And yet the ZO in London, with an even stronger team than that of seven years previously—Weizmann, Baffy, Namier, Brodetsky, and in Parliament, the ever faithful Elliott, Sinclair, and Wedgwood—failed to mount any kind of opposition. The absence of such opposition was possibly based on the refusal to accept the inevitable. Cohen writes: Mrs Dugdale (Baffy) had been kept current with only part of the cabinet’s discussions, and had conveyed what she knew to Weizmann only after the issue had to all intents and purposes been resolved in Cabinet. Perhaps her own optimistic appreciation was influenced by her informer, Elliott. Although he issued dire warnings against placing too much reliance on British promises, Elliott still believed that partition had a chance, however feeble.[7] Baffy herself believed that as long as the Jews were not responsible for the breakdown everything might still turn out well. It was her job to allay Zionist fears and she even told Weizmann that there was no need for him to come to London at that moment, suggesting that he remain in Palestine and that she would brief him when she got there in January. In January 1938 Nuri as-Sa’id met with the Haj Amin in Beirut, much to the consternation of the cabinet, causing Elliott to lose some of his cool. In conversation with Baffy, he said: our opponents in the Cabinet are getting ready for a Hoare-Laval coup, but will put everything off as long as they can. Must make Chaim realize that the Balfour Declaration is no more, and that all we have is 400,000 in the Yishuv, and a few friends outside. We must make it suffice.[8] Weizmann returned to London in February, but as noted above, was unconvinced by Chamberlain’s assertion that partition was still on. Even so he did not feel that the Zionists needed to take any special action to defend their interests. The difference between 1931 and 1938/1939 was that previously the Zionists were reacting to an extremely aggressive White Paper which would have badly damaged their standing in Palestine. In 1938, however, there was as yet no White Paper to rebel against. When the White Paper was published in May 1939, it turned out to be even more

damaging than its 1931 predecessor in that it directly threatened the existence of the Balfour Declaration and the mandate. But by then the outbreak of war was nearly upon Europe and the Middle East and there was no room for the Zionists to maneuver. The Zionist leadership had optimistically put its faith in Britain’s and MacDonald’s sense of fair play, a faith that was evidently badly misplaced. The St. James Conference was little more than a pantomime, and more so because the British government knew exactly what it was going to do irrespective of what took place in the palace. Prior to the event, there were interminable discussions on subjects such as whether the ex-Mufti should be allowed to attend. MacMichael, who had replaced Wauchope as HC in 1938, warned Whitehall that if he did, the government would need a new High Commissioner. Another question was whether the Arab Higher Committee members who had been exiled to the Seychelles should be allowed attend. If not the ex-Mufti, who would lead the extremist Arabs? Answer, his cousin Jamal el-Husseini. The Husseinis and the Nashashibis could not stay in the same hotel. Five Arab Kings and rulers were going to be there. Would they be a restraining influence on the Palestinians? The Palestinians and outside Arabs would not talk to the Zionists (except for the non-Palestinians briefly on two occasions), and so MacDonald was forced to meet one group in the morning and the other in the afternoon. To avoid the Arabs having contact or even seeing them, the Jews had to go into and leave the palace through separate entrances. From this it was clear that there could be no compromise or reasonable discussion, and the conference (a euphemistic term) finally ground to a halt on March 17, 1939 after six fruitless weeks. The three chief bones of contention were stopping Jewish immigration, stopping Jewish land purchases, and setting up an independent Arab State. Some months earlier MacDonald had discussed with Weizmann the possibility of restricting immigration to 450,000 over ten years. This figure was whittled down after negotiation with the Arabs, and the final agreed figure which appeared in the May 15 White Paper was seventy-five thousand over five years, which would mean five years at ten thousand a year plus another twenty-five thousand. Following that immigration would stop, and would only be recommenced with the approval of the Arabs. This was a horrifically low figure considering the number of Jews who were to perish in the Holocaust, many of whom could have been saved. Samuel had originally proposed that the Jewish population in the Yishuv should be 40 percent of the total population. On the above immigration quota the figure would be no more than a third. Purchase of Arab land by the Jews was to be stopped in most of the country, and only allowed in the coastal strip between Tel Aviv and Haifa, an area inhabited by Jews for the most part. It was also proposed that there should be a ten-year period during which the British would rule alone, but would gradually set up governmental departments headed by Arabs and Jews, in approximate proportion to their numbers in the population, assisted by British advisers. At the end of this period a bi-national

independent state would come into existence, if the Yishuv agreed. Thus the long-term future of Palestine would be governed by two vetoes; the Arabs could stop a resumption of Jewish immigration, and the Jews could prevent a new state coming into being, a state in which the Arabs would presumably be the controlling majority. The government, in its wishful thinking, believed that this would force the two sides into amicable and sensible cooperation. Samuel in a House of Lords debate in May described this as giving both sides a veto on the aspirations of the other, and in that way they would be forced to be friends. To all intents and purposes this signified the end of the original mandate agreement and the possibility of a Jewish Homeland for the foreseeable future. The White Paper confirming these arrangements was published on May 17, 1939. Its effects in Palestine were to be felt for the next nine years. Both Weizmann and Baffy were waiting for an opportunity to tell MacDonald what they thought of him. Two days before the publication of the White Paper Weizmann visited MacDonald at his country home. They had been good friends up till then and the conversation went as follows: Mac: “The Jews have made some mistakes in the past.” CW: “Oh Yes, we have made mistakes, our chief mistake is that we exist at all. At least in Hitler one found the virtue of absolutely frank brutality, while you are betraying the Jews and handing them over to our assassins under a semblance of legality.” Mac: “I know well that the Jews are calling me a hypocrite and a coward.” CW: “I have never called you a coward.” Weizmann told his host that he was driving back to London and then on to Palestine to help the Yishuv bear the shock. MacDonald said it was eighteen months since his father Ramsey MacDonald had died and Weizmann knew of his great affection for his father. Weizmann said: “Your father must be turning in his grave at what you’re doing.” Later MacDonald wrote: now I sympathized with every other argument he had had put, but this was a bit much. I realized then that he had come to hate and despise me. What had been a close friendship on both sides had become, on his side enmity. I absolutely respected him for hating me and never lost my admiration for him. But it was very sad.[9] Baffy paid Malcolm a visit at the Colonial Office four days later. She told him that he had broken the love and loyalty of the Jews which she had thought unbreakable, and ruined the fair name of Britain. She also referred to his father’s record of support for Zionism, and to his own role in amending the Passfield White Paper. At this point according to her diary, MacDonald leaned his arm on the table, hid his face, gave out

sounds like groans and said: “I have thought of that.”[10] Ben-Gurion, reflecting on MacDonald’s behavior, wrote: I have said earlier that my feelings towards people were not necessarily conditioned by their agreement with or opposition to, Zionism. What I found distasteful about Malcolm MacDonald was his hypocrisy, and his slyness in negotiation. He was not straightforward. . . . In the early period in his Ministry, he pretended to favor our cause and would always offer “friendly” reasons for not doing things we thought he should have done. Let me be clear. MacDonald had every right to change his mind, every right to swing from pro-Zionism to anti-Zionism, and to hold any opinion he wished. And I could have respected him if he had come out and openly told us that he was sorry but he now felt that Britain should pursue a pro-Arab policy. But to be double-faced and to talk double-talk, and to hoodwink us with guarantees which he knew at the time that he made them that he intended to break, showed him to be a man lacking in integrity.[11] Without wanting to defend or exonerate MacDonald, it should be remembered that he was a public servant carrying out government policy and cabinet decisions. As we have seen most of those decisions had begun to be made by the Foreign Office, and whereas his predecessor Ormsby-Gore had expressed his opposition to the government’s intended betrayal of the Zionists, MacDonald did not go along the same path. It was unfortunate and even ironic that he happened to be a good and personal friend of many leading Zionists, but such friendship would never have been allowed to conflict with his loyalty to the government. In their moment of absolute dejection these Zionists above, and others, vented their fury on him, but must have known full well that he did not have the power to change the White Paper. In 1931 his father did emasculate Passfield’s White Paper, but he was the PM and did have the power. Possibly the aggrieved felt able to mend their bridges with MacDonald later on, I know not. Reactions to the White Paper from different quarters were on the whole predictable. The British public and press showed little interest in parliamentary proceedings relating to a far away land about which they didn’t care very much. There were much more important things going on, on the big European stage. The British government would have liked the PMC to approve the White Paper and MacDonald visited Geneva on a number of occasions in an effort to persuade the seven Commissioners to give Britain their vote. When MacDonald appeared before them, the seven were united in their rejection, stating that “the White Paper is not in accordance with the interpretation which the PMC has put on the Mandate.” The representatives of France, Great Britain, and Portugal, while agreeing with this, argued that because of the particular circumstances a change of policy could well be justified if the League Council gave its approval, but they were outvoted by the other four opposers. Nevertheless there

would have been a chance for the full council to consider the matter at a meeting arranged for September 8, but as war broke out one week earlier, the meeting never took place. The terms of the Mandate stipulated that any change in its provisions had to have the approval of the Council of the League of Nations, and as this hadn’t happened, the opponents of the White Paper had no hesitation in pointing out that Britain’s decision to go ahead and apply the terms of the White Paper was, strictly speaking, illegal. However, with the outbreak of war the PMC ceased its activities, and by the end of the war the League of Nations had itself disappeared. As a result Great Britain was off the hook. The Government had a sizeable majority of 248 over all other parties in the House of Commons. Consequently there was no real danger of it being defeated in the debate on the White Paper. The debate did, however, give the various Zionist supporters the opportunity to voice their bitter criticism of the government. Among the critics were: Herbert Morrison, who said: I should have had more respect for the Right Honorable Gentleman’s speech (MacDonald) if he had frankly admitted that the Jews were to be sacrificed to the incompetence of the Government. This White Paper is dishonorable to our good name and a cynical breach of our pledges. Leopold Amery (former Colonial Secretary): I would never be able to hold up my head again to either Jew or Arab if I voted for this motion, whereby the British Government goes back on its pledge. Phillip Noel-Baker: The White Paper is cowardly and wrong, and the British people will not agree to it. Winston Churchill (former colonial secretary): The provisions of the White Paper are specifically contrary to Article 6 of the Mandate (To facilitate Jewish immigration under suitable conditions, and to encourage close settlement by Jews on the land).The Jewish nation has made the desert bloom, started a score of thriving industries, and founded a great city on a barren shore. Far from being persecuted, the Arabs have thrived under Jewish colonization. And now the House of Commons is to decree that it should all come to an end. What is that but the destruction of the Balfour Declaration? What is that but a breach of faith? [12]

When the vote was taken, the government’s majority had shrunk to eighty-nine. Many MPs who were not particularly Zionist supporters joined the opposition to the White Paper. Thus one hundred Conservative MPs abstained, and twenty-two, including Churchill and Amery, voted with the opposition. For the Arabs the White Paper was a huge political success. They saw it as a reward for their courageous confrontation of Britain in the Revolt and it seemed obvious that their leaders would eagerly accept it. But, we should remember Abba Eban’s sad but true remark: “The Arabs never miss an opportunity to miss an

opportunity,” and thus it was when they met to consider their response in the summer of 1939. Although disappointed that a further seventy-five thousand Jewish immigrants would be allowed into Palestine, and that they would have to wait another ten years for their independence, most thinking people in the Arab world were strongly in favor of the White Paper. George Antonius, saw it as “A substantial advance towards the recognition of Arab rights.” However, Arab politics were not dictated by such men, but by the likes of Haj Amin, sitting in Beirut, who immediately said “no” and to emphasize the point, when the Nashashibi Arab National Defense Party signified that it was willing to accept the White Paper, one of its leaders was swiftly assassinated by Amin’s hit men. At the time of the publication of the White Paper at the end of May, the Revolt was still on. The rebels, believing that they had brought Britain to its knees, saw no reason to stop. Their battle cry was still: “The English to the sea, and the Jews to their graves.” The Arab Higher Committee, meeting in Beirut and following strong pressure from Haj Amin, rejected the White Paper by six votes to four, and the wider Arab community reluctantly had to accept the decision. Phillip Mattar, a Mufti biographer, wrote that Haj Amin’s decision was entirely personal and had nothing to do with practical politics. What he himself was holding out for was permission from the administration to return to Palestine. In the light of the circumstances at that moment he wrongly thought that the British government could not refuse him. But war weariness and greatly increased British military force brought the Revolt to an end, which for the Palestine Arabs was very good news. Major General Montgomery (Monty), commander of the 8th Infantry Division in Palestine, reported on July 21 that: “this rebellion is now definitely and finally smashed. We have such a strong hold on the country that it is not possible for the rebellion to raise its head again on the scale we previously experienced.”[13] It is estimated that three thousand to six thousand Arabs died in the Revolt, and by the time it ended there was a further six thousand in detention. Most Palestinian Arabs breathed a secret sigh of relief were when the revolt ended and they could get back to their normal lives and recoup some of their economic losses. Yehudah Porath wrote: It is true that the Revolt served the Palestinian Arabs. During its three years they succeeded in bringing about the intervention of the Arab States in the affairs of Palestine and consequently the British withdrew from a pro-Zionist policy. But the price in terms of internal splits, feuds and vengeful sentiments was really high.[14] The final piece in the puzzle regarding the White Paper was how the Jewish communities in Britain and Palestine were going to react to its harsh terms. The traditional attitude of British governments was that there was nothing to fear from the

Jews, who would be forced to comply with British demands come what may, and more so now that a major war which would affect Europe and the Middle East was around the corner. The reaction of the Zionists was twofold: the more responsible and statesmanlike individuals, such as Weizmann, B-G, and Shertok realized that once the war had broken out the Jews in the Yishuv would be completely dependent on British protection, so that they had no alternative but to forget about their bitter disappointment for the time being and offer the government their full but reluctant cooperation. At the Zionist Congress in Geneva in August 1939, Chaim Weizmann said: it is my duty at this solemn hour to tell England . . . we have grievances . . . But above our regret and bitterness are higher interests. What the democracies are fighting for is the minimum . . . necessary for Jewish life . . . Their anxiety is our anxiety. Their war is our war.[15] The reaction in Palestine was less statesmanlike, and in the short period between the White Paper and the war a feeling of dangerous hostility toward Britain was spawned, something which had previously never been known. The first time that an illegal Jewish military group made an appearance in Palestine was when Jewish Agency set up the Haganah in 1920 to defend the Yishuv against Arab violence. Over the years the British authorities in the main had turned a blind eye to its activities, and had even, as we saw previously, combined with the Jewish force in joint activities against the Arabs. Following the 1929 Riots there was a split in the Haganah ranks and a breakaway faction calling itself the Irgun Zvai Leumi, which was closely associated with the Revisionists, was set up. Its aim was to switch the direction of Jewish military action away from being purely defensive, toward a policy of carrying out offensive operations against the Arabs. During the Arab Revolt the Irgun, and splinter groups within it, Betar/Etzel, made it clear that they did not accept the Haganah doctrine of Havlagah, and began to carry out extensive military operations against the Arabs, especially in the defense of Jewish settlements. It is estimated that the Irgun was responsible for the deaths of 250 Arabs by the end of World War II. It should be emphasized that carrying arms at that time was a capital offense, and the British authorities did not hesitate to use all their power and authority to apply the most drastic sanctions. The first Irgun fighter to be caught and executed was Shlomo Ben Yosef on June 29, 1938. He and two colleagues had ambushed an Arab bus and attacked it with grenades. Ben-Yosef wrote on his cell wall: “I die without regrets . . . because I am dying for our fatherland,” and his last words before climbing to the gallows were: “Long live Jabotinsky.” In retaliation the Irgun launched a series of attacks on Arab areas, killing five Arabs in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, twenty-three more in Haifa, then ten in Jerusalem,

then thirty-nine in Haifa. As Ben-Yosef had been executed by the British authorities, it is not clear why this resulted in the deaths of eighty Arabs. In the period immediately after the publication of the White Paper on May 15, the Irgun was responsible for organizing hostile newspaper articles, declarations, strikes, and demonstrations, some of which were put down violently by the British authorities. It was also reported that banners carried by the demonstrators compared the White Paper to the Nuremberg laws, and MacDonald to Hitler. In Nicholas Bethell’s view the White Paper completely destroyed the Yishuv’s previously friendly relationship with Britain, which was never restored. Weizmann’s position was weakened, Jabotinsky’s and the Irgun’s strengthened.[16] On July 27 the HC MacMichael said that: “the general attitude of the Jews locally is one of calculated resentment and opposition plus periodic acts of violence by criminally minded individuals.” However, in conference with the GOC General Haining, they came to the conclusion that: “the Jews are not likely to bring about grave disorder in Palestine.” Yehoshua Porath points out how wrong that assumption was and wrote: had the War not interfered, the Revolt in Palestine would have continued, but with one change. The rebels would have been the Jewish members of the Haganah (and especially its “Special Troops” established then for that purpose) and other underground organizations as well, in the place of the Arab rebels.[17] The British government and Palestinian administration had never believed that there could be any real danger to them from the Yishuv. The White Paper changed all that. The first taste of trouble arrived in the summer of 1939, to be resumed in earnest in the period from 1945 to 1948. The point of no return came on August 26, 1939 when the Irgun committed its first ever act of murder against the British, by laying a booby trapped mine which killed two police inspectors, Ralph Cairns and R. E. Barker. A week later Germany invaded Poland and the war began. As a result the Irgun followed the lead of BenGurion and the Jewish Agency and declared that it would not take any further military action against British interests in Palestine, although it would fight to the bitter end to bring Jewish refugees from Europe into Palestine by whatever means that were open to it. When summarizing this chapter, the essential question is whether it was really necessary to appease the Arabs and sell the Jews short. Up till 1936 the administration had not experienced any serious problem from the Arab side directed against British interests. Whereas the Arab leadership had become extremely disgruntled at the continuous British inaction in dealing with the ever increasing Jewish immigration and land purchasing, there had never been any hint of any impending danger from the Arab community. When the Revolt broke out in 1936 there was some evidence that the Axis powers were sniffing around, were transmitting propaganda broadcasts in Arabic and

were even prepared to supply some weaponry, but it all appeared very innocuous. It was at Bloudan in 1937 and again in Cairo in 1938, that the Arab leadership decided to try the tactic of threatening to open up new avenues toward the Germans and Italians. There had also been low level meetings between Arab and German officials. But how seriously could a Foreign Office official sitting in Whitehall envisage that this was the start of a potentially serious alliance which one day would lead to Britain being stabbed in the back? Those people who understood the Arabs must have known that any initiative would not come from them. In addition in the years leading up to September 1939 neither Germany nor Italy was looking for a confrontation with Britain. And yet the FO at some moment, the exact moment is not clear, came to a conclusion that there was a very real threat, and the attempts at appeasement which apparently been so successful in Europe should also be used in order to keep the Palestine Arabs on the British side. The other group whose loyalty the FO questioned was the neighboring rulers of Egypt, Transjordan, Syria, and Iraq. Whereas there had been a steady stream of arms and fighters to the Arab Revolt, these had come from terror groups within Syria and Iraq rather than from government sources. There was now a new phenomenon in the Arab world, Pan-Arabism. It had arrived following the decision of the rulers of neighboring Arab and Moslem countries to take a fatherly, low-key interest in the Palestinian Arabs and their demands. However, a conclusion that if these demands were not satisfied, the new sponsors would immediately jump into Hitler’s or Mussolini’s arms, or that they were so involved with the Palestinians that that they would be prepared to endanger their solid longstanding relationship with Britain, must be seen as completely unrealistic. However, “seen as completely unrealistic” are my words written seventy-five years after the event, and the British government evidently believed that there was a real risk of the Palestinian Arabs or the Middle Eastern monarchs being seduced by the Axis powers and so the answer was that they had to be appeased. MacDonald himself was not sure if Arab and Moslem power were negligible at that time, or whether it would have made more sense for Britain to ally itself with the Zionists. In an interview many years later he said: my opponents might be right, we might have been able to get away with provoking the Arabs, but after taking the best possible advice, especially from the Foreign Office and the Chiefs of Staff, I had to come to the conclusion that they were wrong, that we simply could not take the risk. After all, they were the experts, and who was I, a young man of 37, to tell them all that they were wrong, even if I was the Colonial Secretary?[18] As we approach the end of this chapter, two quotes from two non-Jewish authors who wrote important books on Palestine seem to be especially relevant. Firstly, Christopher Sykes who wrote:

the commonest description of it (White Paper) by Jews was ““betrayal,”” and it remains so today. It was seen as a gross act of pillage, as an exercise of the ignoble and age long right claimed by the strong to turn on the weak and sacrifice them to their interests. It was associated with the fall of the Abyssinian cause and with the fall of Czechoslovakia in March. Dr Weizmann bitterly remembered how the day after the conclusion of the Munich agreement in 1938, Jan Masaryk had told him that this was the beginning of a succession of surrenders of the rights of small states to the violent tyrannies then in the ascendant. This was another case, in the opinion of the Jews of attempting appeasement by dishonorable means, of a cowardly attempt to turn away the anger of men who were intent on violence and lived by murder: the Arabs of Palestine were guilty of rebellion and bloodshed, the Jews were not, so the Jews were penalized to appease the Arabs. Gershon Agron the editor of the Palestine Post, a man known for his moderation, wrote in May 1946: ““The perfidy of the monstrous White Paper, a creature of funk, spawned by a government dominated by a passion for appeasement.””[19] And secondly, Conor Cruise O’Brien, who wrote: the relationship of the League to various Mandates, as to much else, had been not much more than window dressing. All the same the peremptory manner in which the Mandate had been drastically revised by the Mandatory itself did have a practical significance for the future. What it conveyed to most Zionists and to the Yishuv in particular, was that Britain was openly treating the Mandate, and indeed the League itself as a superannuated legal fiction, and also treating the Balfour Declaration as an outworn commitment. Britain now appeared almost openly in a role which British policy had hitherto been at pains to camouflage: that of a power which was in Palestine by right of conquest, and whose authority to determine the future of Palestine rested ultimately on force.[20]