Текст книги "Hero: The Life and Legend of Lawrence of Arabia "

Автор книги: Michael Korda

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It was also an army in which religion was ever-present, from the moment the imam climbed to the top of a little hill overlooking the camp before dawn and called the faithful for prayers to the last call for prayer at dusk—even though most of the men did not seem to Lawrence particularly religious. Feisal, for example, was casually observant, but not, it appeared, from any deep belief or interest; he simply felt obliged as a leader to set a good example. He was a chain-smoker, although tobacco was forbidden to Muslims; he had a certain amused contempt for the narrow-minded puritanism of his father’s desert rival ibn Saud and his Wahhabi followers, and no enthusiasm at all for his father’s efforts toreintroduce sharia law to Mecca in place of the secular Turkish legal code, which was based on France’s Code Napolйon. Religion among the tribesmen was simply a given, something they all shared; few of them, in fact, had ever met anyone who was not a Muslim. Drawing from this experience, Lawrence would write the “Twenty-Seven Articles,” as a guide for British officers working with the Arabs, a work so full of common sense and tolerance that it is still relevant today. What is extraordinary is how well Lawrence fitted into Feisal’s entourage and camp life without any attempt at disguising who he was. He shared the routine, the food, the harsh living conditions, the obligatory long-drawn-out exchange of compliments so alien to a westerner, living among them without complaint or special treatment, and always careful to ensure that he was never seen “advising” Feisal or, worse yet, contradicting him.

For all of Feisal’s superhuman calm and patience, it was clear to Lawrence that his position at Nakhl Mubarak was hazardous and exposed. It became even more critical when Feisal learned that a Turkish column had surprised his half brother Zeid and Zeid’s 800 tribesmen while they were preparing their morning coffee. Zeid had of course not bothered to post any guards or send out any patrols while he and his force slept, and they were now in full retreat, having abandoned much of their baggage and equipment, including their coffeepots. From everywhere came reports that the Turks were concentrating rapidly on Feisal’s position. Lawrence sent a messenger off to Yenbo asking the RFC to make a reconnaissance flight and determine where the Turks were and in what strength, and asked that an urgent message be telegraphed to “Ginger” Boyle for naval support. He then rode to Yenbo himself on “a magnificent bay camel” with an escort provided by Feisal. There, he found that the indefatigable and inventive Garland had already been preparing defensive positions, on the optimistic assumption that the Arabs would man them.

Lawrence himself does not seem to have made any such assumption. He had already reached the conclusion that while “man by man” the Arabs were good, “as a mass they are not formidable, since they have no corporate spirit or discipline, or mutual confidence.” His report to Clayton recommended using them in the smallest possible units, and keeping them busy by making raids on Turkish outposts and the railway, rather than letting them “sit still"; sitting still made them “get nervous, and anxious to return home,” a trait that Feisal himself shared. In short, Lawrence had already made up his mind that the Arabs needed to fight an altogether different kind of war—guerrilla warfare was, he thought, the best way to use them effectively. He was familiar with Colonel C. E. Call-well’s classic Small Wars, the British army’s bible on fighting guerrillas, in which Callwell, who had fought in the Boer War, wrote: “Guerrilla warfare is what the regular armies always have to dread, and when this is directed by a leader with a genius for war, an effective campaign becomes well-nigh impossible.”

Lawrence believed the very qualities that made the tribesmen such poor material for conventional warfare could help them defeat the Turks: swift mobility, hit-and-run tactics, a gift for long-range sniping, and a tradition of mounted raids that took an enemy by surprise, after which the raiders vanished back into the desert with their plunder. Fighting as guerrillas in small numbers they could deliver an endless series of pinpricks rather than a smashing blow, and over time the pinpricks might prove fatal for the enemy. As for the “leader with a genius for war,” there seems little doubt from Lawrence’s reports that he already saw himself in that role.

The next morning Lawrence was disagreeably surprised to learn that it was not just Zeid who had been defeated. Feisal and his army had clashed with the Turks too, in exactly the kind of conventional battle that Lawrence believed the Arabs should avoid, and had been badly beaten. Zeid’s sudden defection had exposed Feisal’s untrained and poorly organized tribesmen to a determined Turkish attack. Feisal tried to get his men to stand and fight at Nakhl Mubarak, but they were overcome by Turkish artillery, as well as by the fact that their antiquated guns (Lawrence called these guns “old rubbish” left over from the Boer War) proved not to have the range of the Turkish artillery—nor had they been supplied with sights, range tables, or even reliable ammunition. As a resultthe men of the Juheina tribe, on Feisal’s left, lost heart quickly and fled the battlefield. The Juheina would later claim that they had merely been tired and thirsty and had needed a coffee break, but in any case their flight led to the rapid collapse of the rest of Feisal’s line and a disorderly rout as the entire army raced back toward Yenbo and the protection of the British naval guns.

For a western army this would have been a disgrace, and would have been followed by severe disciplinary measures and perhaps courts-martial for the senior officers; but when Lawrence reached Feisal’s house in Yenbo, he found the emir and his commanders in a jolly mood, trading insults, and taunting Zeid in a good-natured way for the speed with which he and his men had run away from the battle. Zeid and his men were “quiet, but in no other way mortified by their shame,” Lawrence remarked; nor did Feisal seem dismayed by the collapse of his army in the face of only three battalions of Turks—in numbers, less than half the fighting men Feisal had. This incident fully justified Colonel Callwell’s firmly expressed opinion in Small Wars: “While all goes well, irregular forces hold together and obey their chiefs, but in the hour of trial the bonds which keep the mass intact are apt to snap, and then the whole dissolves and disappears.”

Feisal’s only concern was that the Juheina tribesmen on his left, who had fled from the battlefield when the fragile bonds that tied them to him snapped, might have gone over to the enemy. But when this turned out not to be the case—they were guilty of cowardice, but not betrayal—the Juheina were given a chance to make up for their ignominious flight by going forward to harass the Turks’ line of communications with sniper fire, a logical decision, since this was their country and they knew the best places to shoot from.

Hoping that this might at least slow the Turks, Feisal and Lawrence went out to see how the town might be saved. Yenbo, fortunately, lent itself to defense—the town was built on a coral reef that rose some twenty feet above sea level, surrounded on two sides by water, and on the other two sides by wide, flat stretches of glistening sand and salt, with no drinkable water to be had on them. The Arabs’ dislike of manual labor did not need to be confronted, since the ground was coral, and far too hard to dig in—instead Lawrence and Garland reinforced the existing walls, and placed the Egyptian gunners and naval machine gun parties at the crucial points. Boyle had managed to produce five naval ships and anchored them close inshore; they included the modern, powerful shallow-draft monitor M 31, whose six-inch guns would surely stop any Turkish attempt to rush the town across the salt flats. Navy signalers were placed in the minaret of the mosque, with Feisal’s blessing on this intrusion by infidels, to direct the fire of the ships’ guns.

At dusk, silence fell on the town as Feisal’s men waited for the attack—by that time the Turks were only three miles away—but none came. After darkness had fallen, the ships turned on their searchlights and aimed them at the wide salt flats, illuminating the flats harshly in a careful crisscross pattern through the night. The commander of the Turkish advance hesitated at the sight of the brightly lit landscape, and lost heart at the prospect of advancing across brilliantly lit open ground as flat as a billiard table, toward an enemy holding the high ground. The night passed without a Turkish attack, or a gun’s being fired.

Lawrence was sufficiently confident of the outcome—and exhausted—that he went aboard the Suva and fell asleep. He would later conclude that the Turks’ failure to rush Yenbo that night “and stamp out Feisal’s army once and for all” had cost them the war.

For the moment, however, the Turks still held Gaza on their right and Medina on their left, and threatened Mecca. The Arab army had been saved, but the Arab cause was in as precarious a situation as ever. Feisal—with the help of lavish supplies of British gold—had kept his army together, but only under the protection of British warships; what it needed was a strategy, and Lawrence was about to provide one.

Until now, Lawrence’s role had been that of an observer and a liaison officer, but those limits were about to be changed rapidly. At home, the energetic David Lloyd George had replaced the exhausted Asquith asprime minister. Lloyd George was by instinct an “easterner”: he deeply distrusted the idea that the war could be won only by breaking through the German lines on the western front whatever the cost in British and French lives, and his notoriously devious mind was attracted to the notion of knocking Germany’s weakest ally out of the war and rearranging the Middle East. In London, Cairo, and Khartoum the decision was finally made that the Arabs simply could not be allowed to fail. In Mecca Sharif Hussein still vacillated, alternately calling Colonel Wilson in Jidda to request British troops and then changing his mind and refusing permission for them to land, while Colonel Brйmond schemed to get his French North African troops into the Hejaz. With the sharifian forces more or less bottled up on the coast in Rabegh and Yenbo under the protection of the Royal Navy there seemed nothing much they could do to keep the tribes from deserting, one by one.

Lawrence was among those who saw that it was necessary to go on the offensive, rather than sit and defend coastal enclaves. As long ago as October 1916 Feisal had considered moving the Arab base of operations to Wejh, 180 miles north of Yenbo, but he had hesitated, reluctant to put too much distance between his army and Mecca. In addition, moving the Arab army out of one tribal area to another produced endless difficulties, and exposed it to attacks from the Turkish garrison in Medina. Lawrence dismissed such doubts; he was determined to launch the Arab army out into the desert and cut it free from its own bases on the Red Sea. He came up with a strategy, leading Liddell Hart to declare that “the military art was one in which [Lawrence] attained creativeness” and to compare Lawrence to Marlborough, Napoleon, Sherman, and Stonewall Jackson. Lawrence wanted Abdulla to take his army of 5,000 men deep into the desert fifty miles north of Medina, and base it there around the wells of the fertile Wadi Ais, from which position he could threaten the railway line to Medina and at the same time cut off caravans arriving from central Arabia. This would deflect the attention of the Turkish commander Fakhri Pasha from any attempt to take Rabegh or Mecca, and also screen from him Feisal’s line of march as Feisal took his army north to Wejh. Insteadof being spread out south of Medina but unable to take it, the Arabs would then be well to the north of Medina, able to cut off its supply line at any time. If they could take Aqaba as well, they would be free to move farther north across the empty desert toward Amman and Damascus, and the huge political prize that Syria represented.

Given Lawrence’s ambitions for the Arabs—and his own carefully concealed desire for leadership and military glory—it is perhaps fitting, as Liddell Hart points out, that he and Feisal set out on the 200-mile flank march up the Red Sea coast exactly 121 years after an audacious young general named Napoleon Bonaparte, at the age of twenty-six, began the flank march along the Riviera, which would make him famous. Lawrence was only two years older than Bonaparte (but five steps inferior to him in rank); he took his own first step toward fame on January 2, when, to conceal Feisal’s departure with 10,000 men into the desert from Yenbo, he personally led a raiding party of thirty-five tribesmen in the opposite direction, climbed over steep “knife-sharp” rocks in the dark and then down into the crevices of a precipice to attack an encampment of Turks at first light, shooting up their tents and taking two prisoners. This was a far cry from making maps or writing intelligence reports at a desk in Cairo, or even acting as a liaison officer to Feisal. It was the first raid that Lawrence personally commanded, and marks his sudden emergence not only as a strategist but as a guerrilla leader whom the Arabs would respect and follow.

The next day he rode north with Feisal and the bodyguards; he was already considered one of Feisal’s own household, with a place close enough to Feisal to take several snapshots of him leading the bodyguard, followed by a camel rider bearing his standards, wrapped around long poles topped with a gilded orb and spear point—iconic photographs of hundreds of armed camel riders advancing in line across the rock-strewn, featureless desert, the vanguard of an army that, as Lawrence had predicted, grew while it moved north. For it was above all action that legitimized the Arab Revolt—the sense of being part of a great historical event was a vital factor in persuading Arabs to join, and this requiredstagecraft, and a gift for propaganda as well as gold and weapons. Lawrence’s photographs* are like those of a skilled director; they have the purposeful look of the films of early Soviet directors such as Eisenstein and Pudovkin, a sense of vast numbers irresistibly on the move, which prompted one tribal leader to remark to Lawrence, “We are no longer Arabs, but a people.”

Feisal’s dignity and his gift for showmanship were powerful factors in securing the adherence of the tribes—almost as important as the British gold he paid out to them. At the beginning of the march he and his bodyguard, now numbering more than 1,000 dashing, colorful tribesmen mounted on splendid camels, rode in silence through the massed contingents of his army, which formed up to provide a broad alley lined by Arabs on foot, each beside his camel. To each contingent, as he passed it, Feisal gave a grave greeting, bowing his head and murmuring in his “rich, melodic voice,” “Salaam aleikum,” “Peace upon you"; then, when he had passed through the whole army, the men mounted to the sound of drummers, and burst into songs in praise of Feisal and his family.

Once the column was on its way—"It looked like a river of camels,” Lawrence wrote later, “for we filled up the Wadi to the tops of its banks, and poured along in a quarter of a mile long stream"—he rode back to Yenbo to supervise the loading of the stores there on board one of the British ships (these stores included 8,000 rifles, 3 million rounds of small arms ammunition, two tons of high explosive, and many tons of foodstuff), for there was a real danger that the Turks might take the opportunity to seize the now almost undefended port. Feisal’s brother Ali, prodded into action by his father, Sharif Hussein, and by Colonel Wilson, made a feint attack on Medina, while Abdulla, also set in motion by numerous threats and entreaties, successfully surprised and defeated a Turkish battalion camped south of Medina, then attacked and captureda Turkish supply column. This happy outcome had unfortunate results, however, since the Turks were carrying a large quantity of gold—like the British, the Turks understood that tribal loyalty required payment in advance—and once the tribesmen had looted it, many of them rode straight for home with as much of it as they could carry. Still, Abdulla’s successful march brought him new followers to replace the old, and by January 19 he had reached the wells at Wadi Ais, having dominated Fakhri Pasha’s attention for nearly three crucial weeks.

March by march, Feisal led his army northward, staying close to the sea, and using the hills and mountains to screen his movement from the Turks for as long as possible, so that they would suppose he was still within easy reach of Yenbo, and able to fall back and defend it. In the meantime, Lawrence proceeded up the coast by sea to Um Lejj, a small port halfway between Yenbo and Wejh, and arrived on January 15 to meet Feisal. He was joined the next day by Major Charles Vickery; this was the first appearance of the “official” British military mission to Emir Feisal and the Arab army. Vickery was a professional soldier, a gunner, who had served many years in the Sudan, and spoke Arabic fluently. He was one of the two staff officers of Colonel Stewart Newcombe, who had been designated to command British military support, and one of the first of those British regular officers who would be, to use a slightly later term, upstaged by T. E. Lawrence in Arabia.

Newcombe himself was an old friend of Lawrence’s—he had been in command when Lawrence, then a scholar-archaeologist, with a companion, had been assigned by Kitchener before the war to complete a mapmaking survey of the Sinai—a military mission, since it involved tracing the routes by which the Turkish army might attack the Suez Canal. This daring desert adventure was concealed under the auspices of the Palestine Exploration Fund, dedicated to retracing the exact route of Moses and the Jews. Lawrence had actually reached Aqaba and swum in the shark-infested gulf to an island offshore where he had been forbidden to go—infuriating the Turkish governor, who assumed, not unreasonably, that what was going on was espionage, not scholarship.

Newcombe, though he was a professional soldier to the core, knew Lawrence well, and liked him. Vickery, almost instantly, did not; he and Lawrence got off on the wrong foot from the very beginning. He was offended by Lawrence’s unmilitary ways and, more important, by Lawrence’s easy assumption that Feisal and Feisal’s Arab army would reach Damascus, when, so far as Vickery could see, they were hard pressed to reach Wejh on time and in good order. Matters were not helped when Vickery stubbornly insisted on wearing his Arab head cloth over his pith helmet, prompting one of the Arabs to exclaim, “Mashallah, the head of an ox!” This set all the Arabs laughing, and Lawrence joined in. Vickery was both offended and humiliated, and did not forgive Lawrence. Good as Vickery’s Arabic was, he was of the pukka sahib type, believing strongly that Englishmen should stick together and maintain their distance and their dignity when dealing with “natives.” This was just the kind of attitude Lawrence was determined to eliminate in dealing with the Arabs.

Lawrence, Vickery, and Boyle journeyed inland a few miles to Owais, where Feisal and his army were encamped. They were greeted by Feisal with a lavish meal, which Boyle described as “a greasy stew” poured over rice and topped with ladles of boiling mutton fat, into which each guest reached with the fingers of his right hand to select chunks of innards and diced fat. Both Vickery and Boyle had been shocked and disgusted by “the absence of any sanitary precautions around the camp,” and by the sight and smell everywhere of both human and camel feces drying in the blazing sun, which did nothing to improve their appetite. Vickery—one can sympathize with him—took a long swig from a large pocket flask full of whiskey, then offered it around; Lawrence and Boyle thought this was disrespectful to their Muslim host, though Feisal seems to have been more amused than not.

Plans were made for taking Wejh and its garrison. Boyle would take 500 of Feisal’s Arabs aboard one of his ships and land them on the north side of the town, to prevent the Turks from escaping, while Feisal’s army would simultaneously attack the south side of the town. Fortunately for Lawrence, Vickery wisely chose to proceed to Wejh by ship.

On January 18, Feisal’s army was on the move again; Feisal was gambling that Wejh would fall, for there were few reliable wells or springs along the way, nor was there any certainty that the local tribes would rally to him. It was like marching into the unknown with 10,000 men, half of them mounted, the other half on foot. Shortly after midday, Newcombe himself appeared, arriving by horse from Um Lejj. In theory, his arrival should have ended Lawrence’s adventure. Newcombe was not only Lawrence’s commanding officer, but also Feisal’s senior British adviser—unlike Vickery, though, he seems to have recognized at once that replacing Lawrence would be a mistake. “What do you want me to do?” was his first question to Lawrence, to which he added that “seniority didn’t matter a damn.” This was exactly what Lawrence wanted to hear. Vickery had made Lawrence acutely aware of both his junior rank and his anomalous position, leading Lawrence to believe that he would have to return to his desk job in Cairo as soon as Newcombe’s British mission was firmly in place.

Newcombe was soon aware that Feisal’s army moved at a ponderous pace, with no sense of urgency. Endless time was spent while Feisal met with local tribal leaders and tried to persuade them to join him, each meeting dragging on with time-wasting compliments, ceremonious politeness, and the obligatory cups of coffee and mint tea. Then there were all the difficulties of moving a large army across rough terrain with little or no water, compounded by the Arabs’ lack of time sense, and the difficulty of sending and acknowledging orders in an army that was largely illiterate. The men were already two days behind schedule by the time they reached Wadi Hamdh, where they were joined by the energetic young Sharif Nasir of Medina and his men, and where many of the local Billi tribes “came to swell the advancing host, and to consume more time in talk.” Newcombe rode ahead impatiently to see if he could reach the fleet about twenty miles south of Wejh, where the navy was supposed to unload goatskins full of water, but by the time he got there Boyle had lost patience and had already landed his 500 Arabs as well. Their lack of any habits of sanitation and their unfamiliarity with toilets and urinals hadmade them unwelcome passengers. Boyle then quickly engaged the Turks at Wejh with the guns of his six ships.

When the army approached Wejh on January 24, Lawrence was surprised to hear distant firing. This news galvanized the Arabs, who had worried that they might arrive too late to participate in looting the town. They plunged ahead to find only a few Turks still resisting. Vickery had commanded the assault, and with his 500 Arabs and the big guns of the navy vessels had successfully taken the town. This led to further bad blood between himself and Lawrence. Vickery was outraged by the slowness of Feisal’s army and the fact that it arrived too late to join in the assault; Lawrence was upset that twenty of Vickery’s Arabs had been killed. The fact that Vickery dismissed these as light losses and expressed his satisfaction with the result angered Lawrence, who felt that each Arab life was precious, and that in any case the whole fight had been unnecessary, since the Turkish garrison could have been surrounded and would have surrendered in two days without any loss of life on either side. In the meantime, the town had been looted by the Arabs (its inhabitants were mostly Egyptian and pro-Turk) and smashed to bits by the British naval bombardment. As a result, much rebuilding would have to be done before it could be used as a base.

Lawrence’s concern about the loss of twenty Arabs may seem odd during a war in which British war dead would exceed 750,000, but he felt strongly that “Our men were not materials, like soldiers, but friends of ours, trusting in our leadership.” Vickery had used the tribesmen for a formal assault, which Lawrence criticized as “silly,” since the Arabs were not trained for that, nor had it been necessary.

However it was won, the taking of Wejh transformed the Arab Revolt overnight. Although it was 150 miles from the railway line, the presence of a secure base and Feisal’s army so far north of Medina made the Turks aware of how fragile the link was between Medina and Maan. Far from being a dagger aimed at Mecca, Fakhri Pasha’s force at Medina now looked increasingly like marooned fugitives, separated from the main body of the Turkish army. To keep them supplied, special detachments had to beformed to guard the railway line, eventually rising to more than 12,000 men spread out for hundreds of miles along the line, the equivalent of a full division. Together with Fakhri Pasha’s troops at Medina, they made up three divisions of infantry that would be missing from the Turkish lines from Gaza to Beersheba when the British attacked there again.

Lawrence paid a flying visit to Cairo, where his stock was now higher, in pursuit of mountain guns, machine guns, and instructors, all of which Feisal would need if he was to make any real headway against the Turks. Although machine guns, instructors, and even mortars and armored cars were provided rapidly, the guns presented problems. The British, it turned out, had no modern artillery that could be disassembled and carried by camels; the French were well supplied with just such weapons, but Brйmond was determined to demand a price for them—they must be handled and served by his French North African troops (whose officers were French), and protected by a British brigade, rather than by the Arabs. Since the British, on Lawrence’s advice, were unwilling to send a brigade, and Feisal was unwilling to accept French officers, the guns sat at Suez, unused.

Although the date was January 1917, it was apparent to the farsighted—and nobody was more farsighted and realistic than Lawrence—that putting artillery of any kind in the hands of the Arabs might make it very much harder to impose the terms of a settlement for the Middle East on them after the war. Nobody wanted to talk about the Sykes-Picot agreement, but the knowledge of its terms was already beginning to determine the Allies’ policy, even though the bear’s hide was being shared out before the bear had been killed. Brйmond’s attempts to persuade Lawrence, and later Feisal, that British forces (with the help of the French) should take Aqaba made it obvious that the French hoped to reach Damascus and stake their claim to Syria before Feisal did. Brйmond was already reporting back to Paris on Lawrence’s anti-French sentiments as if he were an enemy rather than an ally, although he would recommend Lawrence twice for a Croix de Guerre and to be made a chevalier of the Lйgion d’Honneur. Lawrence refused to acknowledge both honors or wear the decorations.

The capture of Wejh changed the nature of the Arab struggle. It brought Feisal new Bedouin allies from the vast desert area to the north of Medina, including what is now Jordan, and stretching into Syria and as far to the west as Lebanon and Palestine on the Mediterranean coast. The possibility of transforming a localized revolt in the Hejaz into a broader pan-Arab revolt that might be supported by Arabs in cities like Damascus, Aleppo, Beirut, and Jerusalem made Feisal, quite suddenly, a more important figure than his brothers, who remained behind with the thankless task of either besieging Medina or assaulting it, neither of which they ever succeeded in doing. It also increased Lawrence’s importance, since he was the Englishman who was closest to Feisal, and the only one who might reasonably claim to know what was on Feisal’s mind.

Perhaps Feisal’s two most important acquisitions after the taking of Wejh were in the persons of Jaafar Pasha and Auda Abu Tayi. Jaafar, an Arab from Baghdad, was a senior career officer in the Turkish army, a well-trained professional soldier who had fought the British with distinction in Libya, had been captured, had escaped, was recaptured, and was finally converted to the Arab cause. Jaafar would take command of the “regular” troops, a small and somewhat disheveled group of Arab prisoners of war from the Turkish army—at this point they numbered around 600—who were overshadowed by the more glamorous (and numerous) Bedouin. Jaafar conveyed to British officers a respectable and reliable military presence, despite the small size of his “army” and its tattered uniforms.

The second adherent was very different indeed. Auda Abu Tayi was a tribal leader of the Howeitat, “a tall, strong figure with a haggard face, passionate and tragic,” a warrior and bandit chieftain of fearsome reputation, “who had married twenty-eight times, and had been wounded thirteen times,” and who had killed with his own hands in battle seventy-five men, all Arabs, for he did not dignify the Turks he had slain by bothering to count them. Most of Auda’s life had been spent in raids and in blood feuds, the principal feud being against a cousin, during the course of which he had seen his own favorite son and half his own tribe killed. Auda was a bigger-than-life figure out of a desert saga from some other age: lean, hawk-nosed, with sharply pointed whiskers and beard, and flashing dark eyes that could change instantly from radiating good humor to furious menace. He was a hero who, had he not been a Bedouin and a Muslim, might have seemed at home beside such legendary figures as Ajax and Achilles, cunning, ruthless, violent, physically strong, a born leader and utterly without fear. He was known as a savage fighter and feared throughout northern Arabia, Syria, and Lebanon. The Turks had put a price on his head (among the Turks he had murdered was a tax collector) many times, without result. It was not just admiration for Auda that kept him safe—anybody who gave him up to the Turks would have to live in fear of revenge from Auda’s extended family, his tribe, and their allies. Even the Turks found it more expedient to bribe him than to attempt to hunt him down.