Paradise Lost: Smyrna 1922 - The Destruction of Islam's City of Tolerance by Giles Milton Read Free Book Online Page A

controversial circumstances. He would hold it until disaster struck in 1922, when his catastrophic policy towards Smyrna would abruptly terminate his political career.
    On the evening of the dinner party, Stavridi arrived punctually at 7.30 p.m. and was ushered into the dining room of Number Eleven, Downing Street. He found Lloyd George in full flow, speaking with great animation about the ongoing Balkan conflict. For more than a month, Greece and her allies had been at war with Turkey and the Greek army had trounced Turkey in several major battles. Lloyd George had watched their progress with great interest and expressed his hope that Greece would emerge greatly strengthened from the war.
    As the food was being served, he turned to the footman and called for champagne. Once everyone’s glass had been charged, he proposed a toast. ‘I drink to the success of the allies,’ he said, ‘the representative of one of whom we have here tonight, and may the Turk be turned out of Europe and sent to . . . where he came from.’ The exact expletive he used has been lost to history. Even in his private diary, Stavridi declined to record Lloyd George’s more scandalous turns of phrase.
    As the champagne flowed, Lloyd George grew less and less guarded in his comments. ‘[He] said his one hope was that the Turk would now be cleared out of Europe entirely,’ recalled Stavridi. ‘Personally, I don’t want him even to keep Constantinople.’ He also praised the fighting qualities of the Greek army, whose battlefield victories had taken everyone by surprise.
    The importance of Lloyd George’s rhetoric was not lost on the Greek consul; he sent a transcript of the entire conversation to the Greek prime minister. Stavridi was hopeful that Lloyd George’s influence would bring about a reversal of British foreign policy, which had traditionally favoured the Turks.
    Lloyd George’s contemporaries were withering in their criticisms of his attachment to Greece. The historian, Arnold Toynbee, dismissed it as ‘uninformed religious sentiment on behalf of Christians in conflict with non-Christians, and romantic sentiment towards the successors of the Ancient Greeks’.
    There was more than a grain of truth in this and Lloyd George’s ‘sentiment’ was made all the more reckless by the fact that he rarely listened to wiser counsel. ‘[He] has no respect for tradition or convention,’ observed the newspaper magnate, George Riddell. ‘He is always ready to examine, scrap or revise established theories and practices. These qualities give him unlimited confidence in himself . . . he is one of the craftiest of men.’
    Riddell admired Lloyd George but was quick to point out his defects. ‘Fondness for a grandiose scheme’ was one of his habitual traits. He liked extravagant gestures and would always value boldness above caution. Another weakness was his dislike for small print: ‘he is not a man of detail.’ This was to have most unfortunate consequences when he came to formulate his policy regarding Smyrna.
    Lloyd George was anxious to change government policy towards Greece while she had the upper hand in the Balkan War. He urged Stavridi to persuade Greece’s prime minister to come to London in order that the two men could meet face to face. ‘The future of Greece will be decided in London, not Athens,’ he declared. ‘It is a question of life or death for you.’
    Lloyd George’s persuasiveness soon wove its magic. Just four weeks after the Downing Street dinner party, he found himself hosting one of his famous breakfasts in honour of Greece’s premier, the dazzlingly charismatic Eleftherios Venizelos.
    It was to prove a most convivial meeting of minds, for there was an instant and magnetic attraction between both men. Like Lloyd George, Venizelos had a physical presence that commanded attention. He was imposing, broad-shouldered and handsome, and his wire-framed spectacles and pointed beard gave him the air of a bookish don.