The Iron Dice Roll
‘In Europe, the opinion is widespread that the Italians found it impossible to penetrate into the interior, due to the resistance, of the Turks and Arabs that opposed them. That is completely erroneous. The Italians have not penetrated into the interior, because they have not had the courage to act.’
From an article in Rome’s La Tribuna, 19121
IF Italian strategy vis-à-vis war with the Ottoman Empire was paralysed, then the Ottoman strategy of waiting in the hope of gaining Great Power support in order to force Italy to an acceptable compromise had also failed. Ottoman approaches to various of the Great Powers had been rebuffed, and the focus of attention had begun to shift from the North African vilayet to trouble in areas far closer to home. Chief amongst these was the Albanian issue. The Ottoman vilayets of Janina, Kosovo and Iskodra had a majority population that considered themselves Albanian, and a large proportion of the vilayet of Monastir was likewise. Albanian nationalists, though not necessarily hostile to Ottoman rule as such, desired the amalgamation of the four vilayets into an autonomous homeland.
The advent of the CUP-supported regime following the revolution and counterrevolution of 1908 led the nationalists to hope that their aim of autonomy within the empire would be realised. As stated, they were not anti-Ottoman inasmuch as they shared the Islamic faith and culture, but the ramshackle nature of the empire, and its various ad hoc expedients over time, had allowed the Albanian people certain privileges. The arrangements by which they were governed were shambolic. Sir John Hobhouse accompanied Lord Byron on a tour through the area in the early years of the nineteenth century and put it thus:
Specimens of almost every sort of government are to be found in Albania. Some districts and towns are commanded by one man […]; others obey their elders; others are under no subjection, but each man governs his own family. The power in some places is in abeyance, and although there is no apparent anarchy, there are no rulers.2
Things had not altered much a century later, but the CUP aimed to change all this by imposing centralised government with equal citizenship rights for all. Such policies discountenanced the notion of autonomous ‘national’ homelands and, accordingly, discontent manifested itself in armed revolts in many areas where Albanians resided. The Sultan himself visited Albanian areas in 1911 but to little effect, and the continuing and growing discontent not only consumed more and more Ottoman military resources, but fed political tensions in the whole Balkan region. A large-scale uprising occurred in May 1912 and was more successful than many previous efforts inasmuch as the city of Skopje, now in the modern Republic of Macedonia but at the time the administrative centre of Ottoman rule in the vilayet of Kosovo, fell to the insurgents.
By the summer of 1912 Ottoman control of the whole Balkan region had begun to deteriorate badly and the government in Istanbul seemed impotent. The situation was exploited by groupings other than Albanian nationalists with agendas of their own, and several of these most definitely did want to throw off Ottoman rule. Further, concessions made to Albanian nationalism in respect of Kosovo, were highly provocative to Serbian nationalists. They regarded the vilayet as unredeemed Serbian territory, the acquisition of which was pivotal in their struggle for national reunification and the reconstitution of ‘Old Serbia.’3 The question of unredeemed territory currently under Ottoman control was also central to the ambitions of Bulgaria, Greece, and Montenegro, and in 1912 these independent states had begun to form themselves into an alliance or coalition in order to pursue their shared interests. A ‘Treaty of Coalition’ was signed between Serbia and Bulgaria on 29 February 1912, followed by a ‘Military Convention’ on 12 June. Likewise Greece and Bulgaria came to an agreement, signing a ‘Treaty of Coalition’ on 16 May, which was followed by a ‘Military Convention’ on 22 September.4 These bilateral arrangements included an informal agreement between Montenegro and Bulgaria, which was concluded in April, but no formal treaty was signed.
Attempts were made to keep the formulation and existence of these treaties and agreements secret. However the inevitable rumours did the diplomatic rounds particularly as Russia – the Protector of the Slavs – was perceived, correctly, to be complicit in the creation of a bloc to counterbalance the expansive moves of Austria-Hungary.5 Rumours of impending conflict were also fuelled by military purchases; both the Ottoman and Serbian governments began making large-scale purchases of horses in Austria-Hungary and Russia during the month of May. The following month the Serb Parliament voted a special credit of twenty million francs for war purposes. Whether or not they knew of the alliances in detail, the Ottoman government was certainly aware of increased instability; ‘chaos was increasing in the Balkans day by day’ following the agreements. ‘After the formation of the Serbian-Bulgarian alliance, demonstrations against the Ottoman state had begun in Bulgaria. Through the provocations of Serbia and Bulgaria, militia activities in Macedonia suddenly increased, and anarchy broke out.’6
Balkan unrest, or at least unrest that led to Austro-Hungarian or Russian advantage, was very much against Italian interests. This was particularly so in respect of the area that encompassed the Albanian vilayets, which Italian politicians and businessmen had viewed through imperialist eyes for some time. Italian economic penetration in the area, including the presence of banks and railway construction, might be said to have been greater than it had managed in Tripoli. The ties went even deeper than that though; Italy also had a substantial population of Italo-Albanians (Schipetaro, Arbëreshë) living mainly in the south and it was from this community that Francesco Crispi had hailed. Indeed none other than San Giuliano, before he became foreign minister, had published a book advocating Italian expansion in the area.7 There were also dynastic ties in that the King of Montenegro, Nikola (Nicholas) I, was the father-in-law of Vittorio Emmanuel III of Italy.
Whether Italy’s war with the Ottoman Empire was a contributory factor in bringing about the Balkan turmoil, and if so to what extent, has long been debated. According to the British Ambassador to Rome in 1912, Sir James Rennell Rodd, it was ‘generally accepted’ at the time that it was a direct cause. This is perhaps overstating the case. For example, Sir George Young, writing in 1915, argued that the Italo-Ottoman war ‘brought no material contribution to the conjunction of political forces that was to cause the war of the Balkan Coalition.’ He did though go on to contend that:
[I]n the moral sphere of international relations, it was of great effect. It radically changed the moral situation in Eastern Europe by breaking the ice for the plunge into war, on the brink of which the Balkan Governments were shivering.8
This is a point of view echoed by Childs, who opines that the Balkan states were ‘encouraged […] to speed up and to coordinate their own preparations to take over the Ottoman Empire in Europe.’ He also points out that the Great Powers who had formerly acted in concert to one degree or another in order to maintain the status quo were no longer capable of so doing. Indeed, at that time and in that place, Austria-Hungary and Russia were mutually hostile and suspicious.9
Indeed, to posit that the Italian decision to go to war with the Ottoman Empire led unswervingly to the war in the Balkans might, ultimately, lead on to arguing that Giolitti and San Giuliano were then directly responsible for setting in train events that led to the First World War. Such a position would be ridiculously simplistic and completely untenable. Certainly the First Balkan War was in all essentials a continuation of the struggle for independence from the Ottoman Empire, and which would almost certainly have occurred irrespective. Nevertheless, there can be little doubt that those scholars who have placed the Italo-Ottoman conflict in the context of a prelude to the First and then Second Balkan Wars, themselves a prime cause of the general European conflict that erupted in 1914, have a point.10
This belief in the interrelationship between the Tripoli and Balkan wars was no doubt reinforced because of the one conflict following hard on the heels of the other. Another factor in this regard was the time of year when the Balkan League began their operations. According to Rennell Rodd, ‘experts had pronounced it as contrary to precedent in that incalculable region that the crisis should have occurred at the beginning of winter.’ He then went on to undermine the arguments of the experts:
It is true that the Comitadjis [irregular soldiers or fighters] and mountain peoples were more disposed to take the warpath in the spring and summer, but the Bulgarians, to whom the gathering of their harvest was a paramount consideration, had been trained to winter warfare.
He also dismissed the notion that the North African campaign had damaged the strength of the Ottoman armed forces:
In so far as any weakening of Ottoman resources might have acted as a stimulus to the Balkan States, a connection with the war in Tripoli might be sustained. But the military strength of the Ottoman Empire had not really been much affected by a campaign which was strictly localized, and in which only insignificant forces were engaged.11
This is pretty much self evidently the case, and if the Ottoman senator who argued in early 1912 that ‘the war at present costs us nothing’12 might be reasonably accused of exaggerating somewhat, it can be said in mitigation that he at least had a point.
There is one other factor to consider in respect of the formation of the Balkan League and its subsequent military action; that of the policy, or perceived policy, of the CUP and Ottoman government towards the Independent Balkan States. The Bulgarian government published an account of its activities, and the rationale behind them, in both the Balkan Wars and the First World War in 1919. This document, The Bulgarian Question and the Balkan States, was aimed at the leaders of the victorious powers that were then gathered at the Peace Conference at Versailles. It was then hardly objective. However, it does contain a mention of the Bulgarian perception of the Ottoman attitude towards Bulgaria and the other independent Balkan states, which followed on from the CUP seizure of power.
The new regime undertook nothing in the direction of liberty; the only thing to which it devoted itself sincerely was the military power of the empire. The plan of the Young-Turk Committee was really to provoke one by one all the Balkan States, and beat them separately.13
This of course was a retrospectively adopted viewpoint that was self justifying. However, there was undoubtedly at least some truth in it. The CUP leaders were extremely vocal about the need to recover ‘lost territories,’ and of course they may have been in a position to replace the talk with action when their reforms were complete, a situation that the governments of the Balkan States could hardly have viewed with equanimity.14
Whatever the cause of it, the increasing tension and unrest was beyond the power of the Ottoman government to control, a factor that was greatly exacerbated by the ongoing reorganisation of the Ottoman Army. The CUP, being composed largely of army officers, had begun to modernise the Ottoman army along Prussian lines. This unfinished process had, in the words of the Turkish General Staff historian Re at Halli, led to ‘the most disastrous results.’ The military was at an interim stage of transformation in which the preexisting system had been more or less dismantled whilst the new was as yet unready.15 Service in the Ottoman army, which had a fearsome reputation based mainly on its wars with Russia in the nineteenth century and before, had been based on the conscription of Muslims solely. Those of the Jewish or Christian faiths, and there were many within the boundaries of the empire, were exempt. The CUP changed this system so that all faiths became common citizens of the empire and were, in theory at least, equally liable to bear arms. Colonel Herbert Conyers Surtees, the British Military Attaché in Constantinople, observed the antipathy this ‘equality’ caused amongst the Islamic population. He reckoned that the degree of resentment was akin to that which would have been felt by the white population of the Deep South of the United States had enfranchisement of the black population been decreed from above.16 Whether or not this was an exaggeration is impossible to tell, but the effectiveness of the army was certainly impaired by the reforms in general and by their effects on the ‘Prussianisation’ of the officer corps in particular. According to Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett, the former officer and war correspondent for the Daily Telegraph who had reported extensively on the Russo-Japanese War, the results of this policy were disastrous in the short term:
In their dealings with the old type of regimental officer the Young Turks made the most fatal mistake of all. Because they saw European armies with young regimental officers who enjoyed steady promotion, they said, ‘We must get rid of all these old subalterns and captains who were promoted from the ranks, and who are old enough to be colonels and generals, and replace them by young officers.’ Therefore, with a stroke of the pen they placed all the regimental officers over a certain age in retirement before they had a sufficiency of young officers to take their place. Thus for the last three years the Turkish Army has been woefully short of officers, and when the war broke out [October 1912] it was no fewer than two thousand below its proper establishment.17
It was the opinion of the British Director of Military Operations, Sir Henry Wilson, ‘that with the re-organisation of her forces completed [the Ottoman Empire] will, in the near future, be infinitely stronger than she is at the present moment.’18 Given in 1911 in a ‘Memorandum on Coercive Action against Turkey’ this forecast was to be proven substantially correct some three years later. Whilst it was still in process however, Ashmead-Bartlett’s assessment of officer shortage and inexperience in 1912 was essentially correct. This was confirmed by later Turkish military historians, and it was a situation moreover that was greatly exacerbated by the situation in North Africa.19 Some of the best, and youngest, Ottoman officers had been despatched there to lead the military campaign against the Italians, including most famously Enver and Mustafa Kemal, and by the middle of 1912 there were several hundred in action.20 Indeed, it is somewhat ironic to note that if the CUP had decided that it would change the ‘glue’ that bound the Ottoman Army from religion to nationalism, then, according to one of their most high profile leaders, the successes obtained by Ottoman officers in raising and maintaining Arab forces was largely to do with their common religion. Indeed, Enver’s diary entry for 9 October 1911 gives his reason for travelling to fight as ‘to fulfil a moral duty; the entire Islamic world expects it of us.’21
If the removal of Enver, Kemal, and other skilled officers to North Africa, combined with the disruption caused to the army by the ongoing attempts at reorganisation, and not forgetting the deployment of some 30,000 troops to tackle the instability in Yemen, left the Ottoman military in a potentially parlous state, all cannot be said to have been well with the political scene either. This owed more to domestic than foreign politics, and arose from factionalism in the army.
A constitutional issue had arisen in December 1911 concerning the proroguing of parliament. According to the restored 1876 constitution, in the event of a dispute between the government and parliament it was the government that had to resign. If any new government found itself still at loggerheads with the parliament, then the Sultan could dissolve the latter and new elections would take place. The leader of the government at the time was Grand Vizier Sait Pasa, who had taken over following the resignation of its predecessor following the Italian invasion of Tripoli. Sait was highly experienced, having been Grand Vizier no fewer than eight times over his career, and was generally well respected and not seen as merely a CUP stooge. His government wanted to modify the constitution, so that in the event of a disagreement between parliament and government, the government would remain and parliament would be prorogued. Parliamentary elections however would not automatically follow.
Sait was unable to persuade parliament of his case and, in accordance with the constitution, he and his government resigned on 30 December 1911. He was charged by the Sultan with forming a new government on 1 January 1912, but was still unable to get parliament to agree the reform. Accordingly, and in full compliance with constitutional requirements, he again resigned and elections were scheduled. These took place in April and resulted in a CUP landslide; only six opposition members, out of a total of 275 deputies, were elected. The new parliament met on 18 April 1912, and with the overwhelming majority now enjoyed by the CUP, there was no doubt that the constitutional amendment would pass comfortably. The new parliament was however tainted; the election that brought it into being became known as the ‘big-stick election’ because of the degree of manipulation and intimidation involved with it. As well as gerrymandering, these included arresting opposition candidates on unconvincing charges or suddenly calling them up for military service. These practices not only alarmed the opposition, but also caused discontent within a section of the officer corps.
Many army officers combined membership of the CUP, and concomitant political activities, with their military duties. Another grouping however held the view that the two were incompatible, and that military and political matters should be kept separate, apart from the army having an overarching responsibility for defending the restored constitution. They also blamed the CUP, whose centralising policies could not be said to have proven noticeably effective in ensuring the territorial integrity of the empire, for the Italian invasion of Tripoli and generally deprecated the dictatorial methods practiced by the government, which now commanded a chamber packed with compliant deputies.
Known as the ‘Saviour Officers’ (Haliskar Zabitan) this group was formed from officers based mainly in the Ottoman capitol but was allied with others stationed in the European vilayets. The ‘Saviour Officers’ published papers stating their aims in late June and early July 1912, and heavily criticised the government for the deteriorating situation in the Albanian areas. This division within the officer corps put the government in a difficult position, particularly at a time when the army might be needed shortly.
The Minister of War, Mahmud Sevket Pasa, introduced a bill into parliament with a revised military code that introduced provisions concerning the separation of military and political roles. This eventually passed, but on the same day, 9 July 1912, Sevket resigned from his post. His resignation precipitated a crisis, which led eventually to something approaching a military coup on the part of the army units commanded by the disaffected officers. On 16 July Sait Pasa resigned the premiership and the process of forming a new government began.
The new regime was in place by 21 July with Field-Marshal Ahmet Muhtar Pasa, a military hero of the 1877-8 war with Russia, at its head; his prestige as a military hero perhaps giving him influence over the army in general. The accession of this ‘Great Cabinet’ as it became known because it contained three former Grand Viziers, was not universally acclaimed.22 When Enver learned of the events he was perturbed, writing on 24 July:
The thought of the events at home do not leave me a moment. The old government was replaced by a feebler one. Only the ministry of war remains in energetic hands, and the army, I hope, will benefit. I myself can only continue the work begun.23
The Minister of War was another military man, Hussein Nazim Pasa, who had served in the post previously, but for only two days in February 1909.24 His tenure was not to prove a resounding success, and he was to perish in a shooting incident the following year in which Enver was involved. His first days in office cannot have filled him with confidence over the situation in North Africa; telegrams from Tripolitania of 17 and 21 July awaited him reporting acute shortages of ammunition and advocating the cessation of operations unless supplies were rapidly shipped.25 This of course could not be accomplished. Gabriel Noradungiyan (Gabriel Effendi), the newly appointed Foreign Minister was also regaled with news of the most unsettling kind. On 27 July the ambassador to Imperial Germany, Osman Nizami Pasa, who had been appointed in 1908 by the CUP dominated regime,26 telegraphed with intelligence on the Balkan alliances. After reiterating that there was no doubt that anti-Ottoman military moves were afoot, he advised Gabriel that the Ottoman government must find a solution to its conflict with Italy.26 A military solution was obviously out of the question, whilst a political arrangement was fraught with difficulty given the reluctance of the army in particular to concede anything to a foe that could not conquer. Enver in Cyrenaica bemoaned the military situation, recording on 16 August his thoughts on the matter: ‘Had these accursed Italians the courage to attack us! It is sad that we are forced to wage a war of siege!’ The same entry also revealed his unhappiness with the events at home:
The events in Constantinople take an ever more evil course whilst I stand here, trying to save a corner of my country, powerless. As for the agitators among the officers, I telegraphed to the Secretary of War that here we all curse these miserable wretches, whose actions will lead to the ruin of the army and country.28
In fact moves, albeit tentative in the extreme, towards a negotiated settlement had been underway under the previous government. Talks had been taking place at the Hotel Gibbon (named for the British Historian who finished his epic work there in 1787) at Lausanne, Switzerland. The Italian delegation comprised of Volpi, the ‘unofficial conduit’ between the two governments, and two parliamentary deputies, Pietro Bertolini and Guido Fusinato. This trio had been discussing, negotiating even, an end to the conflict with a representative of the Ottoman government Sait Halim Pasa (not to be confused with the similarly named Grand Vizier) since 12 July.29 Though these discussions had been undertaken in the strictest secrecy, rumours concerning them inevitably surfaced in the press causing San Giuliano a great deal of nervousness. He feared that should the talks become widely known about then Italian ‘public opinion,’ as expressed through the nationalist press and via jingo politicians, would perceive them as a sign of weakness and that Italy was suing for peace. Indeed, his nervousness may well have been increased, as Childs points out, by the fact that none of the trio at Lausanne came under his authority, but reported directly to Giolitti.30
Peace efforts were also being made through more formal channels. Sait Pasa had sent Poincare a four-point proposal for onward transmission to Italy. This though had been rejected out of hand by the Italians because it did not have, as its very basis, recognition of Italy’s annexation of the North African vilayet.31 In his memoirs Giolitti discusses a briefing letter he had received from Fusinato, in which he was informed that the Italians were convinced that Sait had no official instructions, but that they were also certain that the Ottoman government really desired peace and that Sait was there in good faith. The stumbling block was of course the Ottoman reluctance to abandon a Muslim province and population to foreign domination, and the associated difficulties this would cause amongst the Ottoman people. On the other hand there was the Italian determination that nothing less would suffice. As Giolitti stated it: ‘Italy demanded the recognition of our sovereignty by Turkey, and would not accept any formula that disregarded this.’32 Efforts to get around this apparent impasse might have continued, but with the resignation of Sait Pasa on 16 July the talks were suspended.
That this was a temporary state of affairs was ascertained following two meetings between an employee of Volpi’s, Bernardino Nagara, and Gabriel Effendi in Constantinople on 30 July. According to Giolitti’s account, during the course of the first meeting Gabriel agreed to urge the Ottoman Council of Ministers to continue the negotiations and, by the time of the second held in the evening, had received assent to this. Two delegates would be sent to meet the Italian negotiators with fresh instructions, but in order not to inflame domestic opinion regarding the Tripoli vilayet Gabriel asked that Italy abstain from hostile military operations. Giolitti agreed to this in respect of the Aegean, but ordered that operations in Tripoli should be intensified in general and in Cyrenaica in particular. Advances in the latter would serve to ‘remove the Turkish illusion that, because of the limited extent of our occupation there, Italy would eventually renounce [the annexation of] Cyrenaica.’33 Later historians have confirmed that this statement is supported by contemporary evidence, though as Childs points out Giolitti was only prepared to concede a temporary cessation of hostilities outside the North African theatre.34
The two Ottoman delegates chosen by Gabriel were experienced diplomats of senior rank, Nabi Bey and Fahreddin Bey (Rumbeyoglu Fahr al-Din Bey), but they did not have plenipotentiary powers. Thus they would have to refer any agreement they might arrive at back to their government for approval.35 Because of intensive interest, and thus intrusions, from journalists the negotiations were moved to the Grand Hotel at Caux-sur-Montreux, and both parties met there in secret on 12 August 1912 whilst reporters searched the vicinity for any sign of them.36
Because Giolitti and San Giuliano were prisoners of the jingo right and nationalist press, Italy could not shift position on absolute sovereignty for Italy over Tripoli even if they had wanted to. Benedetto Cirmeni, whilst contemporaneously complaining about the British acquisition of Sollum, put the matter succinctly in a Vienna newspaper:
The only peace condition of Italy is the recognition of its complete and absolute sovereignty over the entire African vilayet […] If this condition is not accepted, then Italy will continue the war, even if it were convinced that the continuation would bring the dissolution of Turkey in Europe.37
Giolitti’s lack of room to manoeuvre translated into Italian intransigence, which in turn inevitably meant that the process of arriving at an agreement was to be tedious and long-drawn.
If progress in the diplomatic sphere was agonisingly slow, then something fundamentally indistinguishable might be said to apply to the military operations undertaken to ‘disillusion’ the enemy. Perhaps the first step taken towards a more aggressive policy was the replacement of the military commanders and the splitting of the theatre into two separate commands. Frugoni had been recalled in July 1912 and replaced with Lieutenant-General Ottavio Ragni. Caneva was recalled in early September, and following his departure his former command was divided; Ragni became Commander in Chief in Tripolitania whilst Lieutenant-General Ottavio Briccola held the same position in Cyrenaica. Neither of the recalled commanders was held to have been superseded for failure, and Giolitti explained the rationale behind the decision as being necessary because the war had entered a new phase, one requiring a combined military and police style of operation which ‘demanded freedom of initiative and speed.’38 Accordingly, the new commanders, who had control in both the military and civil spheres, had the ‘implicit mandate’ of reversing the ultra-cautious methods of Caneva and Frugoni.39 In the tactical sphere this had, as has been noted, generally manifested itself in the use of ponderous movements in overwhelming force. Frugoni and Caneva were averse to exposing their forces to even the slightest risk, ensuring that they suffered no chance of even a minor defeat or reverse, and if they did then this was concealed by propaganda. According to the press release put out in Rome on 5 September announcing the promotion of Briccola and Ragni; ‘they have been appointed to separate commands […] with a view to pushing on operations in the interior.40
Changes were made lower down the command structure as well, amongst them being the replacement of Major-General conte Trombi, whose tenure at Derna was not considered to have been creditable, with Major-General Ezio Reisoli in August. The Italian occupation of Derna had always been somewhat uncertain due to the extremely difficult ground to the south of the town and the precariousness of the water supply. The Ottoman forces surrounding them were also large in number, and were of course commanded ultimately by Enver, who reported that he had been promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel (Oberstleutnant) on 17 June.41
That the relative insecurity of Derna was unacceptable was made evident by it being the place chosen for the first manifestation of the new Italian policy of pushing on operations into the interior with initiative and speed. The garrison there had been depleted somewhat in order to provide troops for the expeditions to Rhodes and Misurata, but early in September it was reinforced by a number of units, many of which had recent battle experience. These included two battalions of Alpini, the Mondovi and Fenestrelle, the 43rd and 34th Infantry Regiments, and an ascari battalion. Also drafted was one of Italy’s most experienced general officers, Tommaso Salsa, who had been occupying an administrative post in Tripoli City. Salsa had been involved in the campaign that terminated at Adua and had commanded the 1st Infantry Brigade during the international intervention in China during the Boxer War. He was put in charge of a mixed brigade consisting of the Alpini and ascari battalions.
On the morning of 14 September, before first light, Reisoli’s command began to move. On the western side of the Wadi Derna a brigade-strength column of troops under Major General Luigi Capello debouched from the entrenchments near to the fortification known as the ridotta Lombardia (Lombardia Fort) and, extended into line, began spreading out to the west and north-west of this work towards the Wadi Bu Msafer supported by a heavy artillery bombardment. This movement had the effect of drawing enemy forces towards the slowly advancing troops, which was the intent behind it. Having advanced to draw the enemy’s attention to the west of the town, the real operation began in the east about an hour afterwards. Two brigades, one under Major-General Francesco Del Buono and the other under Salsa, moved to the east and south east simultaneously. Salsa’s command marched in column parallel to the shore until it reached the point where it was intersected by the Wadi Bent, then turned right and moved up the river bed until reaching Casa Aronne, a large white house that dominated the surrounding terrain.
Del Buono meanwhile had moved from the Italian lines slightly to the north-east of the ridotta Piemonte and advanced across the difficult ground to the south-south-west on the position known as Kasr Ras el Leben (Kasr el Leben), where the ruins of an old fortification were sited. Like that at Casa Aronne, this was on high ground that could dominate the local terrain, and both positions were therefore of some importance. By virtue of their manoeuvres the Italians had extended their forward line by some 4.5 kilometres and had, largely through the feint by Capello’s brigade, achieved these objectives without loss or serious opposition. Work was immediately set in motion to consolidate these gains with the construction of strong entrenchments. Thus the left of the Italian position east of the Wadi Derna was held by Salsa’s mixed brigade, with the centre, based on Kasr Ras el Leben, defended by Del Buono’s infantry.
If Reisoli’s intention was to bring about an offensive-defensive battle then he succeeded. On 17 September the Ottoman forces counter-attacked under the command of Enver and, as always, accounts of the subsequent battle are highly partisan in nature.42 According to Enver’s own account, dated 18 September, his intention was to ‘break through the centre’ of the Italian position. This, he claimed, had been achieved and the Italians were totally surprised; the attackers however were unable to fully exploit their success due to difficulties on the flanks of the attack. After fighting for sixteen hours, they withdrew, but, despite their numerical superiority, the Italians remained on the defensive. He concluded: ‘Our artillery has proved to be excellent [and] it is a pity that the final outcome of the battle has not quite met my expectations.’43 In his diary entry for 21 September however, beginning ‘I will attempt to describe our last battle’ he gives a fuller description of the action from his perspective:
At 5 o’clock, the appointed hour, the attack was announced on our right wing by brisk infantry and machine gun fire. The Italian artillery replied a few moments later with the utmost severity. Except for the flash of the guns firing we could see nothing, and had to follow the course of the battle from its confused sounds.
After a quarter of an hour it became relatively quiet, and I concluded that our troops had penetrated into the enemy positions. At first light our artillery opened fire on the small Italian fort opposite. To get a better view of the situation, I went further forward just as the sun rose above the horizon. In the centre everything was good, the Italian position had been pierced. On our right flank however our troops had been forced back into the Italian first line, which was already behind them. Two companies of the Guards with two machine guns brought the enemy counter-attack to a halt.44 The left wing seemed endangered by the enemy forces; around midday however it pressed once more in a furious and dashing assault in order to gain a breathing space. […] As I stood motionless and watched the comings and goings of the battle, I suddenly received from an Italian battery which had been fired upon our artillery, heavy shrapnel fire. […]
On the right wing the enemy [counter-attacks] gained the upper hand [and] our men were forced to retire somewhat initially. But when I made a quick advance in the centre, which was joined in by the right wing, the enemy attacks immediately stopped. We also parried the attack on our left wing and our troops took up new positions there, without the enemy venturing to disturb them. […]
Towards evening we galloped to the right wing, pursued by a hailstorm of Italian shrapnel. Here the attackers had established themselves around 100 meters in front of the Italian positions, after having to give up the trenches following their initial capture. Their position was unfavourable, as they were not only shelled from the flank by an Italian armoured cruiser, but also threatened by Italian forces disembarked from the sea. I realized that any further attacks on this wing were no longer promising of success. Also a telephone call from the commander of the forces west of the Wadi Derna informed me that a large enemy formation, of about brigade strength, was concentrating in front of our right wing. I found myself therefore forced break off the struggle and commanded the attackers to break off and retreat as darkness fell taking along all the dead and wounded.
It was a bloody day; a new page was written in the history of this war. The outposts remained in touch with the enemy, who with his 24 battalions, four field and 6 mountain guns did not dare to interfere with our movements, and even today still does not show himself. If only such strength available to us!
Our artillery has stood up to artillery ten times as heavy and silenced a series of hostile batteries. Our casualties were 185 wounded and 98 dead. Unfortunately, these battles have no influence on the outcome of the war.45
Accounts of the battle appeared in the various newspapers of the European states, and, as has become tediously obvious, reflected the viewpoint of the writer. The Italian General Staff issued a report that, perhaps naturally, magnified the Italian contribution. This was reproduced by Tittoni:
The battle was composed of three distinct actions: a weak one early in the morning on our extreme left, in which the enemy was easily repulsed; the other two respectively heavy, at the head of the [Wadi] Bent in the morning, and again on our extreme left in the afternoon; but in the evening the enemy was defeated and left the field covered with dead and wounded.
On that memorable day the Arab-Turk forces, several thousand strong, with plenty of well-commanded artillery, conducted by Enver Bey, arrayed themselves against the solidity, calmness, and vigour of the counter-attacks of our troops, white and native, conducted by the conspicuous ability of our officers and guided by a clear conception of tactics, with harmonious and effectual opportune dispositions of troops.
Our losses of 10 officers and 174 men, dead and wounded, were small compared with those of the enemy, of whom 1,135 were found dead near our lines.46
By the time the encounter came to be written up by the pro-Italian correspondents it had turned into a total disaster for the Ottoman forces. McClure had it thus:
On the extreme left the Arabs advanced with splendid daring, but as they drew near they were staggered by an irresistible counter-attack from a battalion of Alpini and the Eritrean battalion. The Arabs broke and fled, pursued by a steady and pitiless fire, which dropped many of them before they could reach cover. […] By nine o’clock in the morning the battle was virtually over […]47
It matters little whose version of events was the more accurate, and the battle, both in course and in result, differed hardly at all from any of the other small-scale encounters between the Italian army and the Ottoman forces that occurred during the conflict. However, if it is seen in the context of the ‘new phase’ of the war identified by Giolitti, the type that ‘demanded freedom of initiative and speed,’ and was a step towards ‘pushing on operations in the interior’ then it must be accounted as an Italian failure. Indeed, it is difficult to distinguish it from the style of operation pursued by Caneva and Frugoni. This point is reinforced when considering that further advances in early October around Derna meant that when Italy and the Ottoman Empire finally came to terms, the territory controlled by the Italian army there stretched along the coast some 6.5 kilometres and extended inland some 5 kilometres; a total area of about 30 square kilometres. If the example of Derna were used as a yardstick to compute how long it would take to occupy Cyrenaica, the answer would be a most unfeasibly long time. The point Enver made, that ‘these battles have no influence on the outcome of the war,’ was then undoubtedly correct.
The same held true in Tripolitania. The operations that took place in June against the area around Zanzur had failed to prevent Ottoman forces from operating there as the oasis itself had not been occupied. Therefore, and as part of the new forward policy, Ragni decided to mount an attack in order to rectify this, thus denying it to the enemy. The advance was to be made in overwhelming force in reinforced divisional strength, and was to take place on 20 September. The core of the force consisted of a Special Division (Divisione special). This comprised two brigades of infantry; one from the 1st Division under Major-General Michele Salazar and one from the 3rd Division under Major-General Massimo Tommasoni. This force was placed under the commander of the 3rd Division, Lieutenant-General Conte Felice de Chaurand. In support were four batteries of mountain guns, a battery of field guns, an engineer battalion, two squadrons of the Lodi cavalry, and an ascari battalion. There was also a reserve force under Major-General Giovanni Maggiotto consisting of the second brigade from the 1st Division supported by an engineer battalion and two field batteries. In addition, a flying, or mobile, column was assembled under the command of Major-General Conte Coardi di Carpeneto. Consisting of the 11th Regiment of Bersaglieri and squadrons of the Lodi Cavalry and Firenze Lancers it was to operate on the left flank of the advance.48
Lieutenant-General Ragni took tactical command on the day, the whole force amounting to nearly 12,000 infantry, 550 cavalry, and 34 artillery pieces. Naval support was also forthcoming if necessary. Subterfuge had been employed; announcements to the effect that the troops had been concentrated to hold a parade were made. Credence was lent to this by the fact that 20 September was the anniversary of the fall of Rome to the Italian army. Whether anyone was taken in by this seems doubtful, and in any event when the whole force moved off on the morning of the anniversary it was met with attacks from the desert on its left flank. If, as with Reisoli’s tactic at Derna, Ragni’s preferred option was to fight an offensive-defensive battle, then he was disappointed.
It is not proposed to enumerate the details of this battle, in which the Ottoman forces eventually came to number about 7,000. Suffice to say that at that at the end of the day’s fighting, which was dubbed the Battle of Sidi Balil, the Italians had managed to entrench themselves in and around the Zanzur Oasis and hold onto the ground they had won, albeit after suffering over 500 casualties. These included 115 officers and men killed, including the commander of the Lodi Cavalry Major Giuseppe De Dominicis, and 431 wounded. The Ottoman casualties, as estimated by the Italians, were reckoned to have been over 2,000. The Italian advance had also been marked by errors, inasmuch as the two regiments of Salazar’s brigade lost touch with each other and risked having to fight in isolation.
The Italians could however award themselves a victory, though, as in Cyrenaica, if this was evidence of the ‘new phase’ of warfare then it was exceedingly difficult to discern any substantial difference between it and the previous version. One may perhaps quote Francis McCullagh, who wrote in the introduction of his 1913 book that: ‘A glance at the map of Tripolitania will show that, at their present rate of progress, the Italians will take about fifty years to get to Gharian [the main Ottoman base, some 80 kilometres to the south].’49 Fortunately, for the Italians, at least they did not have to wait until 1963 to get the Ottoman Empire to agree terms.
The site of the negotiations had moved on 3 September from Caux-sur-Montreux to the Beau Rivage Palace Hotel at Ouchy, south of Lausanne, on the shore of Lake Geneva, due to the prospect of better weather.50 This had no effect on progress or the lack thereof, but if they were moving at an agonisingly slow pace they were nevertheless advancing more rapidly than the Italian military. The crux of the problem revolved around Gabriel’s desire to avoid a humiliating peace. Conversely, it was politically necessary for Giolitti to inflict one, or at least be in a position to tell Italian ‘public opinion’ that he had. Whilst it is not proposed to enter into a detailed study of the peace talks (and anyone interested in the definitive account should consult Chapters IX and X of Timothy W Childs excellent work – see Bibliography) it was largely in the area of perception that the necessary ‘wriggle room’ was found.
Gabriel, and the Ottoman government in general, was also under pressure from the Balkan situation; respected newspapers were captioning their articles on the region with headlines such as ‘The War Cloud’ and ‘The Balkan Peril’ during September and the hugely respected London Times carried authoritative reports of Ottoman excesses against innocent Christians.51 Whether the latter reports were entirely accurate (Childs makes the pertinent point that Christians in the Ottoman Balkans were always considered ‘innocent’ by most Europeans no matter how far from the truth this was) is largely irrelevant.52 What mattered was they were believed, and were merely symptomatic of the inflamed situation in the region.
Whilst the build-up of tension in the Balkans gave an incentive to Gabriel and the Ottoman government to come to terms, it was also a worry to Giolitti. Should the Italian conflict with the Empire become intertwined with a Balkan conflict, then it was entirely possible that the Great Powers would intervene and propose some means of settling the outstanding issues by negotiation. Such an eventuality could easily lead to Italy getting less than she wanted in respect of Tripoli, which would likely have been the end of the Giolitti government. Accordingly, from the Italian Prime Minister’s perspective, the process had to be terminated in a satisfactory manner as quickly as possible. On 2 October he authorised the negotiators at Ouchy to deliver an ultimatum to the effect that if at least a preliminary treaty had not been signed within eight days, then the negotiations would be suspended.
The same thought about a Great Power intervention settling the war with Italy had naturally enough also occurred to Gabriel. Indeed, the Ottoman ambassador in London, Ahmet Tevfik Pasa, had urged just such a course on him on 29 September.53 Gabriel declined to pursue the matter, and on the same date that Giolitti issued the ultimatum, he decided that the war had to be brought to a close. It is undoubtedly the case that Gabriel was right to ignore Tevfik’s advice, because it soon became clear that the peace that the Great Powers sought basically involved the Ottoman Empire conceding on Italy’s terms. That this was so became clearly evident when the negotiations stalled yet again on 12 October. Giolitti immediately notified the Great Powers that the Ottoman government was prevaricating, and that the talks were in danger of collapse. This caused a flurry of diplomatic activity, with Herbert Dering, the British chargé d’affaires at Rome, telegraphing Sir Edward Grey that he had been informed by the Italian Ambassador that the Ottoman delegation had withdrawn from the negotiations and that Italy might, using her navy, broaden the conflict.54 A cable from Paris to the New York Tribune, dated 12 October, outlined the situation rather well, albeit from a somewhat pro-Italian perspective:
The threatened rupture of the negotiations between the Italian and Turkish representatives at Ouchy has occupied the diplomats of Europe today almost to the exclusion of the Balkan Imbroglio. The powers have concentrated their efforts to prevent Turkey from placing in the hands of the Balkan federation such a trump card as would be the failure of the pourparlers, which have been a large factor in causing the hesitation of Bulgaria, Greece and Servia to declare war.
It is pointed out that while Italy is still fighting the Mussulmans the position of the Balkan States is so enormously strengthened that the powers feel that nothing could restrain them. But with Turkey free from the Italian danger an entirely new perspective is created. The Greek fleet then would be practically put out of action, and large contingents of the Greek army would be tied up guarding the coasts, while Turkey would be able, without restriction, to move hordes of her finest fighting men from Asia Minor against the Balkan invaders.
Italy, in granting a fresh delay in the peace settlement, is seconding the efforts of the powers. The Italian Ambassador, Signor Tittoni, had no fewer than three conferences today with M. Poincare, the French Premier. Italy’s desire for peace is explained on the ground that she fears complications might follow an attack by her on a port in European waters, or in the vicinity of those waters.55
The non-mention of Montenegro amongst the Balkan states that were ‘hesitating’ to declare war is accounted for by the fact that Montenegro had already declared war on the Ottoman Empire on 8 October; the first shot of the war being fired the next day.56 It had become very clear to Gabriel, as to all other European politicians, that war in the Balkans was imminent and that peace with Italy must be secured. Accordingly on 14 October he gave his team at Ouchy instructions to settle, though to attempt to extract some last minute compromises from the Italians.57 These were unsuccessful.
Peace between the Ottoman Empire and Italy came via two separate, though intimately related, treaties. The first, signed on 15 October 1912, was a preliminary, and secret, treaty that established a sequence of events. Under Article 1, the Ottoman government, in the name of the Sultan, would within three days issue an imperial command (ferman) addressed to the populations of Cyrenaica and Tripolitania. A draft of this edict was attached, and it basically granted autonomy to the vilayet, though the Sultan would nominate a representative to safeguard Ottoman interests in the country. These would essentially consist of maintaining and adjudicating the sharia amongst the Islamic population. The identity of this representative, and other religious leaders, ‘must be agreed to in advance’ by the Italian government.
The Italian government agreed under Article III that, after a delay of no more than three days following the issuing of the Sultan’s command, it would issue a Royal Decree. Again the draft text of this was attached, and the crucial sentence as far as the Italians were concerned, and one that had proved an obstacle in the negotiations, was the opening line after the preamble. It read: ‘In view of the Law of 25 February 1912 […] with which Tripolitania and Cyrenaica were placed under the full and entire Sovereignty of the Kingdom of Italy […].’ Article 1 of this decree stipulated that a ‘full and entire amnesty’ was granted to the inhabitants who had participated in the hostilities, and that individuals detained or deported ‘will immediately be liberated.’ Religious freedom was also granted to the population, and the Sultan’s representative recognised as ‘safe-guarding the interests of the Ottoman State and of Ottoman subjects.’
Article IV concerned Rhodes and the other islands occupied by Italy. The Ottoman government agreed, no more than three days after issuing the imperial command referred to in Article 1, to issue a decree granting ‘administrative and judicial reforms’ to the ‘inhabitants of Islands of the Aegean Sea’ so that they would have ‘equal enjoyment of justice, security, and well being, without distinction of cult or religion.’ An amnesty was also granted to those inhabitants who had sided with the Italians, worded in almost exactly the same terms as was granted to those in Article III.
The Ottoman edicts under the treaty were promulgated on 18 October as agreed, and the delegates then moved to sign the public treaty of peace at 15:45 hours that afternoon. Under Article 1, the two governments agreed to ‘take the necessary dispositions for the immediate and simultaneous cessation of hostilities’ and to despatch ‘Special Commissioners’ to ensure that this occurred. Article 2 specified that the two governments would, ‘immediately after the signature of the present Treaty,’ order the return of their armed forces and civil functionaries from, in the Ottoman case, Tripolitania and Cyrenaica, and, in the Italian, of ‘the islands it has occupied in the Aegean Sea.’ There was however an apparently minor caveat to this; the ‘effective evacuation’ of the islands would only take place after the removal of Ottoman personnel from North Africa. The next two articles dealt with the return of prisoners of war and hostages and reiterated the terms of amnesty as set out in the Secret Treaty, whilst Article 5 stated that the various treaties and agreements that had applied between the two states prior to the outbreak of hostilities were reinstated as if there had been no war. The remaining six articles related to commercial and other matters, though under Article 10 Italy agreed to pay an annual ‘annuity’ to the Ottoman Empire that ‘cannot be less than two million Italian Lire.’58 When the representatives of both sides signed the Treaty it was deemed to have come into force, and the Italo-Ottoman War was formally over.