|
FOREWORD
Revolutions are sweeping Asia. These revolutions, though often encouraged and directed by intellectuals, spring from the peasants. These people illiterate, with a life expectancy at birth of less than thirty years, and with a standard of living far below anything we in America know are on the march. This is nothing new; it is part of a historic process that Wendell Willkie faithfully portrayed a decade ago.
These revolutions are important to the future of each of us.
Asia is the great staging ground for Russian imperialistic designs. Asia holds the bulk of the world's population. Asia has the great wealth of the world. That wealth is mostly in untapped natural resources oil, rubber, iron, manganese, and other minerals. Asia is also rich in matters spiritual. The great religions of the world originated there. They supply today powerful fighting faiths among the peoples. While they are a cohesive force that holds large areas together, they occasionally pit one people against another in bloody combat. Asia is rich in literature and art; and it is steeped in mysticism and superstition. Asia is also filled with unrealized ambitions. I wanted to see for myself the power and strength of Asia and to understand the forces that brew its revolutions. Therefore, I made two trips to that continent one in 1949 and one in 1950. In 1949 my son, William O. Douglas, Jr., went with me. We visited Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Persia. Then we returned to Damascus and went south to Trans-Jordan and into Israel from the east. We saw all of the Arab world except Saudi Arabia and Egypt. On that trip we also stopped in Greece and in Cyprus. Those stops were merely layovers, going and returning to the Middle East. But we found Communist forces very active in each of those places; and what we discovered was so germane to the problem of communism in all of Asia that our observations in those countries have been included in this book.
In 1950, accompanied by Elon Gilbert of Yakima, Washington, I traveled again through Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Persia; and in addition into India. Most of the time was spent in Persia and India.
There was much forward planning necessary for each of these journeys details with which I have not burdened the book. The assembly of equipment, the obtaining of permits, the approval of the routes we wanted to follow were time-consuming. The various governments were most co-operative and gave invaluable assistance. And so it was that even though most of our travel covered the back regions of these countries, our arrival in the remotest village was often heralded several days in advance. We were generally not restricted in where we could go, in what we could see, or even in the pictures we could take. So if there are deficiencies in the reporting, the fault is not that of our hosts.
The richness of the Persian material is due largely to the co-operation and help of my friend, the late Ali Razmara who was assassinated on March 7, 195 1. He was Chief of Staff when I visited Persia in 1949 and Prime Minister in 1950; and it was he who opened closed doors for me, even those along the troublesome Soviet border.
I have not undertaken an analysis of the political forces in each of these countries. An American can easily miss the forest and see only the trees if he takes on that task. My undertaking was different and more limited. I have tried to present, through the medium of personal experiences, the main stresses and strains in the arca.
The characters whom I present are real, not fictitious. I have occasionally changed the locale of an event and given a character a new name to respect a confidence or protect a life. But the events and conversations and other facts are true to the best of my knowledge.
I have detailed these episodes in an endeavor to take the reader with me on these journeys, so that he may see and hear what transpired. That is a difficult undertaking. Many of the experiences were for me almost beyond the reach of words. Some were filled with laughter and gaiety; others were crowded with tragedy and sorrow.
Much of the material was highly charged with emotion. There were sometimes conflicting versions, compelling me to try to find out where the truth lay. The materials were so rich that I had to make selections. My purpose was to include those episodes which portray as fairly and objectively as possible the state of mind of the people whom I met, the extent of an evil, the nature and importance of a problem in a particular region.
Both the 1949 and the 1950 trips brought the Moscow radio to a high pitch of excitement. I was charged with being the Big Devil, my son (who accompanied me in 1949) with being the Little Devil. That pleased my son. I was charged with being a spy for the American Army, with landing guns in the Persian Gulf, with laying plans for guerrilla warfare in the Middle East, with living in the tradition of the famous Lawrence of Arabia and the fabulous Major Robert T. Lincoln of more recent years. These accusations were to me very flattering. But there was one Soviet charge that cut to the quick, that hurt deep-down inside. It was the charge that I was a decrepit mountaineer!
My trips included no mountaineering in the sense in which an alpinist would use the term. A few minor peaks were scaled; there was one walking trip; and there were several pack trips. By-products of these excursions were two collections of wild flowers-one in Lebanon and one in Persia-which I have presented to the Smithsonian Institution.
The trips were unconventional. For the most part I kept out of the lanes of tourist travel. While I saw some of the sights and visited the capitals, I spent practically all my time in the mountains and villages, traveling on foot, by horseback, or by jeep and stopping to talk with most of the goatherds and peasants I met along the way. I usually carried complete camping equipment with me, put my bedroll down in or near a village at night, and sat up late discussing problems with the villagers or a local khan or kalantar. In a word, I spent most of my time with the common people of these countries, rather than with officialdom.
Different people get different impressions of happenings and events. The best illustration comes out of the Middle East on the lips of Mullah Nasr-ed-Din, the twelfth-century legendary humorist of Persia whose yarns would have delighted Mark Twain, Irving Cobb, and Will Rogers. It seems that one day Mullah and his small son were walking down the road behind their donkey. The donkey, free of any pack, wandered lazily along nibbling as he went, while Mullah and his son sweated rather profusely under xiv Foreword the hot sun. As they passed through a village, Mullah heard a man say, "Look how foolish that old man is-walking instead of riding this hot day."
Mullah thought about the criticism and in a little while both he and his son climbed aboard the donkey. At the next village, Mullah heard a village elder say, "That old man ought to be ashamed of himself-making the donkey carry the two of them this hot day."
That criticism stung, so in a short distance Mullah dismounted, leaving his son on the donkey. At the next village he overheard a villager say, "That little boy ought to be ashamed to let his poor old father walk while he rides."
Those words also stung, so after a turn in the road, Mullah lifted his son down and mounted the donkey himself. At the next village Mullah heard a woman shout, "Look at that mean old man riding, while the poor little boy has to walk."
This is the story the Persians tell when conflicting versions of events are discussed. They say that Mullah rubbed his beard, shook his head in wonderment over the misinterpretation of everything he did, and said, "You can't please any of the people any of the time."
Since people view events with different eyes, one who writes of this region owes his audience a statement of the prejudices behind his appraisal of the people he met and conditions he witnessed. The following are mine:
The Greece I saw was buoyant, courageous, idealistic. It was releasing energy in tremendous undertakings and showed the makings of a renaissance.
The Arab world I visited Lebanon, Syria, Trans-Jordan, and Iraq has a placid quality which makes for great charm and creates an intimate and friendly atmosphere where one finds relaxation and a reflective, contemplative mood. One learns courtesy there.
Persia has a fascination that is difficult to describe an appeal that is as indefinable as the plaintive music in her spoken word or the elusive quality in the Persian personality. Persia shows the West the true art of hospitality. Persians are spiritually close kin to Americans.
Israel is an exciting place. A challenging experiment in social and economic organization is going on there.
And India-well, I fell in love with India. Partly for its Himalayas whose grandeur is not of this earth. Partly for its mysticism, its spiritual strength. Partly because India of today is an ancient civilization rising from the mire of poverty, illiteracy, and feudalism by the heroic efforts of a few men and women.
My impressions of the countries visited were largely obtained through the tribesmen, farmers, goatherds, villagers, woodcutters, shopkeepers who constitute the hard central core of each of these countries. These folks are worthy world citizens. They are hospitable, generous, honest, God-fearing folks.
Those are the prejudices with which I wrote.
I owe much to many who helped me along the way: to Saul Haas for his searching criticisms that enriched the manuscript; to Edith Allen, Gladys Giese, and Mercedes Davidson for carrying the burden of the mechanics of the volume; to my son Bill and to Elon Gilbert for their observations and their help in interpreting what we saw; to Maxine K. Jackson for painstaking field work in the Cyprus study; to General Reuben E. Jenkins of the American Army for assistance on the Greek project; to Clovis McSoud of Shweykat, Dr. S. B. L. Penrose and Professor William West of Beirut, Dr. Alford Carleton of Aleppo, and Josef Debbouss and Mary E. Nix of Damascus for help on the Arab world; to Nahum Astar of Tel Aviv and Jacob Ratner of Haifa on the Israeli project; to Gerald Dooher, M. Kazemi (assigned to me by the Shah), and Kurish Shahbaz of Tehran for the interpretation of the Persian material; and to Andrew V. Corry of New Delhi and Boshe Sen of Almora for help on India. Of these Kazemi and Shahbaz deserve a special word. One of them was usually with me on the Persian trips. They were patient with my interrogations and faithful in their translations. They have the insight, objectivity, intelligence, and tact rare in interpreters.
I traveled without portfolio and without official status. What I write expresses only my own views as a private citizen.
William O. Douglas
Lostine, Oregon
June 24, 1951
Part I
Communism South of the
Soviet Border
Soviet propaganda beamed to the Middle East exploits the news of the day. It emphasizes and exaggerates the weaknesses and frailties in existing regimes. It constantly reminds the natives of their grievances. It whispers suspicions about those in power. It charges America and England with having designs on every nation in the region, with planning to make each one a subservient colony in a large imperial system. It represents the Soviets as the forces of Good in the world, America and England and all non-Communist governments as the forces of Evil. It identifies the Soviets with every minority cause, with every nationalist ambition.
Soviet propaganda does not neglect the religious prejudices of the area. It reminds the Moslem population of their religious rivalries and conflicts, which in earlier days caused much bloodshed. It was a Pope who in the twelfth century summoned the Christian world to war against the infidel. Soviet propaganda today resurrects the specter of that bloody conflict and links the Vatican with Wall Street and Anglo-American "imperialists" in a conspiracy against the Middle East.
The word-of-mouth campaign is even more insidious. The Koran has a strong flavor of Christianity: care of the weak, feeding the hungry the giving of alms. Those who preach communism by word of mouth relate it to the Koran. When Marx and Engels wrote the Communist Manifesto in 1848, they dipped their. pens in the New Testament and in the Jeffersonian philosophy to make their document popular among Europeans. Today in the Middle East the Communists use the same technique in preaching Soviet ...
|
