Monday, Jul. 12, 1943

The Choice

Turkey's importance at this stage of the war is geographical. The rugged plateau of Anatolia, insufficiently equipped though it is with roads or railways, is a bridge from the Middle East to one of Europe's softest spots, the Balkans. The islands just off Turkey's southern and southwestern coast are steppingstones for the sea road to an attack on Greece. And in the Middle East, across the bridge and beyond the steppingstones. Allied armies are growing.

For nearly four years a policy of strict neutrality has kept the Turkish bridge from being used by belligerents. But now Turkey, by virtue of her geographical location, can help or hinder the Allies in their offensive strategy--by keeping her neutrality, or by relinquishing it.

Ismet Inoenue, President of Turkey, Suekrue Saracoglu, Turkey's Prime Minister, and Numan Menemencioglu, Foreign Minister, inherited a policy from the man who built up Turkey from the ruins of a degenerate empire. That policy: no entanglement with foreign powers. The great Kamal Atatuerk laid it as a cornerstone of modern Turkey's international relations. Time modified it while he still lived: to maintain Turkey's tottering economy he had to arrange some foreign loans. War modified it still further after Kamal Atatuerk's death: caught between campaigns to the west, north and south of her, Turkey had to find a modus vivendi with the warring powers which entailed some commitments. But the three men who formulate Turkey's policy have handled it brilliantly so far. None of their commitments has bound them definitely to one side or the other. Up to the present, their neutrality has been real.

The Elastic Wall. Neutrality is not a stiff wall of defense; it is elastic. When a neutral power holds the bridgeway between two theaters, the elasticity increases. Then neutrality involves giving inches at the right time to the right power, playing one power off against another. It involves careful analysis of every word in the lexicon of neutrality: "friendship," "alliance," "benevolence" and many more, until the lexicon is exhausted. For a nation in Turkey's position, the last word in the lexicon, the one to be most anxiously and searchingly scanned, is war.

War has been relatively simple to avoid so far. While Germany was on the offensive, war was always a simple issue: fight or go down in the "New Order." But with Allied armies standing at the gate to Turkey's bridge, the issue has changed. The Allies hold something in their hands that Germany never had: the prospect of complete and final victory in Europe and reconstruction of the Continent's political structure. That might mean the consolidation of everything the Turks with Kamal Atatuerk had fought for: a strong position in the Balkans and the Middle East, some territorial gains which would give Turkey more protection against the possibility of future attack.

For nearly four years neutrality has served the Turks and served the Allies. Now that it threatens to block the way for Allied armies, a choice must be made again. When the choice is made, Suekrue Saracoglu will probably present it to the world. Standing between grim, retiring President Ismet Inoenue, Turkey's unquestioned leader, and brilliant, chronically ill Foreign Minister Numan Menemencioglu, Saracoglu is their front to other nations' statesmen.

The Leaders' Man. Saracoglu is one of the few men of Kamal Atatuerk's original collaborators who remains in high office in Turkey (another is Marshal Fevzi Cakmak, Commander in Chief of the Army). He entered Kamal Atatuerk's first Government as Minister of Education. From then on, he was never out of politics. He occupied successive ministries until, on Kamal Atatuerk's death in November 1938, he became Foreign Minister in the first Cabinet formed by President Ismet Inoenue. His was the work of building up the many-sided structure of neutrality on which Turkey relied when World War II began. Its cornerstones were an alliance with France and Britain, a friendship and nonaggression treaty with Germany, cautious but steadily progressing friendship with Soviet Russia.

In 1942 Saracoglu became Prime Minister. To the post of Foreign Minister came tough-minded, able Numan Menemencioglu, probably the most clever and hard-headed member of the trio which now guides Turkey's destiny and a man who follows only one policy: that which best serves his nation. With this shift, direct control of foreign affairs passed from Saracoglu's hands, but Turkey's international relations have remained his principal interest.

"More Like An American . . ." That Turkey has been able to keep the delicate balance between war & peace for nearly four years is due in no small measure to the character of Suekrue Saracoglu. He has been charged with being pro-Axis, but if his likes, dislikes, foibles and friendships are a clue, there can be no question that he would like to see the Allies win.

As a politician, Saracoglu would easily find a place for himself in the rough & tumble political arena of the U.S. He likes America, Americans and things American--automobiles, cigarets, architecture, movies, industry, government. He is a devotee of sports, an ardent rooter at Turkish soccer games. Unlike most European statesmen, he is approachable, informal, hearty and direct. He likes the cracker-barrel politics which, in Turkey, take place at small, informal dinners. A U.S. career diplomat of many years standing in Ankara said of him once: "He is more like an American politician than anyone else in European governments."

Slightly under middle height, built thickly and compactly, Turkey's Prime Minister at 55 is quick-moving, intense, with direct brown eyes in a full-fleshed, dark, mobile face set off with a small, grey mustache, horn-rimmed glasses and insufficient salt & pepper hair. He likes his fun and has it, drinks a wide variety of liquors, from national raki to good Scotch whiskey, but is more moderate now than in his younger days. He is still spry in friendly company, often takes to the dance floor to perform the Sarizeybek, a finger-snapping, foot-stomping Izmir mountain dance learned in his native village.

In his comfortably modern official residence in the Cankaya hills, high above Ankara, the Prime Minister has a wife and three young children, two boys and a girl. He has been married 20 years.

Diplomatic Relations. Saracoglu's relations with those foreign diplomats whom he likes go far beyond the bounds of everyday official contact. As a diplomat, U.S. Ambassador Lawrence Steinhardt is probably closest to the Turkish Prime Minister, gets along best with him across the conference table. The two men became friends in 1939 when the then Foreign Minister Saracoglu cooled his heels for three weeks in the Kremlin's anterooms, trying to negotiate a Russo-Turkish treaty. Steinhardt, then Ambassador to Moscow, had the Turk frequently to bridge parties, at which the Prime Minister plays a canny, steady game. Said Saracoglu last week of the U.S. representative: "There's nothing feeble about your Ambassador's head."

Closest in personal relationship with Saracoglu is Sir Hughe Knatchbull-Hugessen, Britain's Ambassador to Ankara. The two are often seen together in Ankara's nightclubs, which know the Prime Minister well. In the easy intimacy of the capital's drinking and dancing spots, British relations with Turkey have assumed a cordiality enjoyed by no other foreign power.

With Sergei Vinogradov, the Soviet Ambassador, Saracoglu's relations are on a good, solid political footing, personalized by occasional games of chess. The score between the two, after two years of playing, is about even -- as are official Russo-Turkish relations at their present stage.

With Germany's Franz von Papen the Prime Minister is scrupulously correct, but impersonal.

Since he became Prime Minister, Saracoglu sees fewer diplomats than formerly, but still receives them on most pressing matters in his big, comfortable office in the Prime Ministry-- one of the rare buildings among Ankara's supermodern structures to preserve the Turkish style of architecture of overhanging roof and pleasant turquoise and red tile facing. Interviews are usually friendly, straightforward, eased along by the Prime Minister's ready smile and humor. He likes to be playful in conversation, but is tough-minded underneath his wisecracks. French is his only foreign language, but in the U.S. a dozen years ago he picked up an American phrase which he used with English-speaking persons: "And how!"

Toughness May Be Needed. The Prime Minister's easygoing affability has stood him in good stead with the Allies so far, but toughness may be needed in the future. Turkey had trumps to play in her neutrality. She had chrome to offer Germany (enough to make up Germany's deficit) when pressure was put on from Berlin. She had chrome to offer the U.S. and Britain when they put the heat on (the U.S. is now receiving all the chrome that Germany is not). She could insist, and rightly, that her neutrality was protecting Britain's flank when the Wehrmacht reached the eastern Mediterranean. To Germany, if Hitler tried invasion, she could offer the prospect of stiff resistance in rugged country, almost devoid of communications. She has trumps of war today for the Allies: some 1,500,000 men whose fighting qualities are superb, despite their lack of mechanized training and equipment; and, most desirous of all, passage for the Allied troops through Turkey if they seek to go by land, protection for their sea-and-island flank if their offensive is seaborne.

But if Turkey should choose neutrality against Allied wishes, Saracoglu will need all his underlying toughness, for the Allies have trump cards too:

> Forcing a route through Turkey would be expensive, but isolation of Turkey from the peace table would be a hard blow for the Turks;

> Cession of land in the Dodecanese Islands and west of the Dardanelles would be a prize for Turkey, despite protestations that Turkey wants no territorial gains ;

> Stopping of Lend-Lease aid to Turkey, curtailing of the purchase of Turkish exports (some of which Britain has been taking at a loss) might be a fatal blow to Turkey's precarious economy.

Germany, at this time, could scarcely make offers which would offset the Allied trumps, a fact best illustrated by the gradual swing of Turkish trade and Turkish policy toward the Allied side.

Postwar Insurance. Probably the most powerful trump card the Allies can play is the prospect of furnishing postwar influence for Turkey against Soviet Russia. Despite the "series of most advanced treaties" which Saracoglu announced as having consolidated the Turkish rapprochement with Russia, Russian postwar aims remain Turkey's greatest fear. Control of the Dardanelles, Russia's only outlet to the southern waterways, has been a sore point between the two nations for decades; Turkey's control of it today hinges on the Montreux Convention of 1936.

The Government's fear of Communism is another stimulant to Turkish suspicion. Modern Turkey is organized on strict totalitarian lines and is the product of a revolution; 20 years of existence have not yet fully stabilized it. The westernization program of Kamal Atatuerk lifted it out of a medieval slough, but economically and financially it is still far from healthy, and wartime difficulties have stimulated latent inflation.

A strong voice at the peace table is, therefore, considered vital by Turkey's leaders. Territorial gains in Western Thrace would further safeguard Turkey's Dardanelles. Air-tight alliances with Britain and the U.S., founded on common participation in the war, would go far toward safeguarding her future. And Turkey herself has some postwar plans which she would like to see realized:

> A vital and active Balkan policy federating the southeastern European states, welding them into a political unit which would serve Turkey for defensive purposes ;

> A union of Middle Eastern states, such as Persia, Iraq and Afghanistan.

Britain and Russia between them can--and may--cross up these plans. The idea of a Balkan campaign alone is disquieting to the Turks; a Balkan campaign which left them out of Balkan settlements would cause alarm in Ankara. With the war so close to their frontiers, Turkey's leaders might well consider that neutrality is not enough, that they can speak with authority at the peace table only on the basis of a comradeship-in-arms.

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