Captain Shakespear

Desert exploration, Arabian intrigue and the rise of Ibn Sa'ud

Alan Dillon

• Publisher: Medina Publishing
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9781911487333
• eBook ISBN: 9781911487456
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Political Biographies
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Two years before T E Lawrence received orders to travel to the Hejaz to liaise with the leader of the Arab Revolt, other British officers had already roamed the Arabian Peninsula's unforgiving Nejdi desert, to rally tribal support for the British war effort. The first was Captain William Henry Irvine Shakespear, a political agent from the Government of India's Political Department. Born in October 1878 in India, Shakespear spent much of his childhood away from his Anglo-Indian parents, schooling in Portsmouth and later in the Isle of Man, before entering Sandhurst as a British Indian Army Officer Cadet. On his return to India, Shakespear spent six years in military service before he joined the Political Department in 1904, serving twice in Bandar Abbas and briefly in Muscat. Shakespear's next mission was as a political agent in Kuwait, arriving at the coastal Sheikhdom in the spring of 1909. For the next four years, he travelled extensively into the Nejdi desert, providing both London and Delhi with valuable intelligence about the vastly unknown interior as well as cultivating a personal relationship with Ibn Sa'ud, the Emir of Riyadh. At a time when London and Constantinople were negotiating the Anglo-Ottoman treaty, Shakespear almost became persona non grata for advocating the need to back the emir after his tribal warriors had expelled the Ottoman garrisons in al-Hasa in 1913. When war was declared in July 1914, Shakespear was one of the first to try to join the British Army to fight in France, but when the Ottoman Empire looked set to ally with Germany, the powers that had previously shunned him now needed his unique knowledge of Central Arabia and relationship with Ibn Sa'ud. That October, as many of his peers and countrymen crossed the English Channel to reinforce those already in the trenches, Shakespear set sail for Kuwait on special duty to rendezvous with the emir. It was a mission that T E Lawrence would later commend, acknowledging the crucial role that the political agent played during the early stages the Middle Eastern theatre of war. Shakespear was a pioneer in exploring the Nejd, capturing many firsts with his camera, although there were a few other equally intrepid British officials who preceded him into the desert. From the late-18th century, the East India Company collided numerous times with the House of Sa'ud as both attempted to understand the intentions of the other, before the political agent finally laid the foundations for formal diplomatic relations with Ibn Sa'ud, and later with the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

1: THE TREATY OF DARIN

The recently requisitioned packet-ship HMS Lawrence navigated a careful passage down through the Shatt al-‘Arab’s brackish inner channel, slowly closing in on the mouth of the Mesopotamian river that opens up into the Persian Gulf – or Arabian Gulf, depending on one’s geographical persuasion. It was late December 1915 and the Lawrence’s skipper was acting on orders to embark Sir Percy Cox, the Government of India’s Chief Political Officer, Indian Expeditionary Force D, from Basra and take him to Tarut, a small sparsely populated island that sat just offshore from Qatif in the eastern part of the Arabian Peninsula. Tarut had been chosen because of its seclusion from the mainland, where spies and enemies in the pay of the Ottoman Empire lurked. The voyage took a couple of days, allowing Cox plenty of time to prepare for his meeting with Ibn Sa‘ud, the Emir of Riyadh, who had just established a tented encampment at Darin, one of the settlements in the south-east of the island. Cox and Ibn Sa‘ud had corresponded regularly over the years but this was the first time that they had been able to meet each other. Ibn Sa‘ud was already hosting Major Terence Keyes, the political agent in Bahrain who had been with him since 21 December. They had been locked in negotiations for five days, each hoping to agree the terms of a treaty that would formalise relations between the British Empire and the Ruler of Nejd, al-Hasa, Qatif and Jubail before Cox’s arrival. By the time the Lawrence arrived off the Tarut coast on 26 December and disembarked Cox, the treaty articles had been agreed by both parties.

While Cox enjoyed Ibn Sa‘ud’s hospitality ashore, he noticed that the emir was nursing a slight wound to one of his hands, which he had received during a clash with the ‘Ajman tribe in July,² possibly as a result of a bullet. Although the wound appeared to be healing nicely and the emir in good health, the fight had not gone well for Ibn Sa‘ud as his brother, Sa‘ad, had been killed.³ These were troubling times for Ibn Sa‘ud. Despite the auspicious occasion, the discussion throughout was frank and straightforward, devoid of emotion as Cox and the emir discussed the ongoing campaign against the ‘Ajman tribe, the Ottoman Empire and its local proxies, and the likely fate of the caliphate if the Ottoman Empire collapsed. Out of sight, British and Arab scribes were taking meticulous care to write out two identical copies of the proposed treaty, one of which would remain with Ibn Sa‘ud, while the other would be sent back to Delhi to be registered alongside the other treaties and formal letters of agreement. Four large sheets of fortified paper were used to capture in duplicate the contents of the treaty; the treaty’s preamble and the seven agreed articles were written in English on the left-hand side, mirrored on the right in Arabic.

Once the ink had dried and the writers were confident in their accuracy, the two documents were presented to Cox and Ibn Sa‘ud, who both took their time to read the contents. While Cox was able to read the text in both English and Arabic, Ibn Sa‘ud required the aid of one of his interpreters to confirm the scribe’s work. Once satisfied, Cox signed the documents, adding the title ‘Political Resident in the Persian Gulf’, a position that he had actually relinquished a year before. It was a slight anomaly as he outranked the current incumbent, who was only officiating, but only he had the explicit backing of both the British and Indian governments to see the negotiations through, regardless of the title that he intended to deploy. Ibn Sa‘ud decided against using his full name, signing the treaty simply as ‘Abd al-‘Aziz Al Sa‘ud, and to confirm his signature he inked his personal seal and pressed it hard onto the paper under his name.

The treaty document itself was a simple affair. There was no gold crest or decoration of the Indian Government at the head of the paper or blood-red embossment to match Ibn Sa‘ud’s personal seal, although neither signatory seemed to be concerned with its presentation. Both understood that it was only a temporary agreement, rushed through during the First World War, and would be revisited once peace had returned. The last article was explicit in this fact, stating that ‘The British Government and Bin Saud agree to conclude a further detailed treaty in regard to matters concerning the two parties’. On 18 July 1916, Frederic Thesiger, 1st Viscount Chelmsford – Viceroy and Governor-General of India – added his signature to the Indian Government’s copy, having ratified the treaty in the Indian Council in Simla that day.

The treaty was not the only reason Cox and Ibn Sa‘ud had agreed to meet in Darin. Ibn Sa‘ud desperately needed to secure financial and material support from the British to help him keep their shared enemy, the Ibn Rashid, and their loyal tribes at bay. If Ibn Sa‘ud lacked the means to fight them, they would be free to support the Ottoman Caliph’s call for jihad and take the fight to British and Empire troops in Egypt and Mesopotamia. Cox, in turn, was confident that, in complying with Ibn Sa‘ud’s request for assistance, the emir would be steadfast in his alliance with the British throughout the Great War.⁴ He agreed to give Ibn Sa‘ud a soft loan of 300,000 rupees (£20,000),⁵ along with some field guns, high explosive and shrapnel shells, rifles and ammunition, to help him pursue their mutual adversaries. The British too were desperate and needed a commitment from Ibn Sa‘ud that he would use his own influence over the tribes to protect Basra’s flank and to douse any jihadi sparks that might rouse dissidence in parts of the empire. The treaty helped achieve these ends, but so did responding to Ibn Sa‘ud’s need for gold and guns. That evening, Cox returned to HMS Lawrence, now accompanied by Keyes and the signed treaty, and immediately set sail for Bahrain. Ibn Sa‘ud returned to the al-Hasa mainland the following morning, carrying his own copy of the accord.

The treaty articles were also rather simple, but sufficient in their purpose. It had taken just 11 months to see the draft treaty through to completion, despite negotiations mostly taking place by couriered correspondence between Ibn Sa‘ud’s ever-changing location and Bahrain. Although both sides had at times expressed their disagreement over the use of some of the suggested language, there was little of substance that differentiated the first draft from the signed version. In addition to providing a placeholder for a more substantial treaty to be agreed later,⁶ the document formally recognised Ibn Sa‘ud as the independent ruler of the domains already under his governance and those yet to be determined. It also confirmed that the British Government would come to Ibn Sa‘ud’s aid if he was threatened by a foreign power, although it was not explicit in the use of force, while Ibn Sa‘ud would refrain from any aggression or interference in the affairs of Kuwait, Qatar, Oman and the Trucial states, which were also British allies. Ibn Sa‘ud would also refrain from any form of dialogue with foreign powers and agreed to inform the British of any approach from another nation. He would also ‘absolutely not’, under any circumstances, give any concessions to a foreign power and agreed to protect the pilgrimage routes passing through his territories.

From Ibn Sa‘ud’s rise to power in 1902 to 1913, he made 11 overtures to various offices in the British and Indian governments, seeking protection and a security guarantee. Each time he was rebuffed, sometimes because the explicit nature of the request was lost in translation, at others because there were few officials or ministers in London who were prepared to champion Ibn Sa‘ud above the Al Rashid, the other dominant ruling family in central Arabia. He simply did not sit within Britain’s regional sphere of influence, and it was not until he managed to seize control and governance of some coastline in 1913 that he began to arouse their interest, given their commitment to a regional maritime treaty that had been in force for nearly a century. Ibn Sa‘ud’s later requests for a formal pact also clashed with Britain’s own ongoing treaty negotiations with the Ottoman Empire. There was no chance of the Foreign Office in London agreeing to any additional negotiations in the margins, particularly given that Ibn Sa‘ud was recognised, by the Ottoman Government at least, to be one of their subjects. Cox was one of only a few who understood the value of maintaining a close relationship with Ibn Sa‘ud. It was a deduction that had been informed by numerous reports he had received from his network of political officers posted to prominent coastal cities scattered around the region, although mostly from Captain William Henry Irvine Shakespear, who had previously served as the Government of India’s Political Agent in Kuwait.

Shakespear had been in the Kuwait sheikhdom since 1909, and from his first encounter with Ibn Sa‘ud in early 1910 he had recognised something special – unique, even – in the desert chieftain. Shakespear had made few friends or allies in Whitehall over his persistence in championing Ibn Sa‘ud, and many were relieved be rid of the irritant when his posting there came to an end in January 1914 and he returned to London. Twelve months later, Shakespear was back in the Gulf and firmly embedded in Ibn Sa‘ud’s camp somewhere in the Nejdi desert, this time with the full backing of the foreign secretary and the India secretary. In just a decade, British foreign policy towards the interior of the Arabian Peninsula, and the Al Sa‘ud in particular, had changed considerably. Its long-established position of non-interference had been reinforced with a policy of deliberate avoidance and denial of existence, but was now one of the pursuit of active engagement. Shakespear, too, was no longer a pariah but carrying the hopes of the policy and war planners to rally the Arab tribes against the Ottoman Empire – which had just allied itself to Germany in the Great War – or at least to confirm their neutrality. This was not without risk. Shakespear, Ibn Sa‘ud and the emir’s mass of warriors manoeuvred almost daily in the desert, waiting for the right moment to strike against another powerful chieftain, Ibn Rashid, and his equally mobilised tribal army that was equipped with modern weapons and vast quantities of ammunition provided by their German and Ottoman sponsors.

In between their tactical bounds, the political agent took full licence of the mission that he had been given to liaise with the emir and they began to work together on an outline of a treaty, which would be the first of its kind between them. Once they were both happy with the thrust of the language, Shakespear drafted a comprehensive covering note, justifying again the benefits of establishing formal relations. Hundreds of miles away from the nearest friendly telegraph station, camel riders were called forward to courier the original despatch to Cox in Basra, with a second copy, courtesy of carbon paper, to the officiating resident in Bushire so that it could be transmitted to the Indian Government for consideration. Eleven months later, Cox was finishing off what Shakespear had begun.

2: FAMILY HISTORY, YOUTH AND APPRENTICESHIP

The Anglo-Indian gentry and assorted servants of the Crown drew hard on their pipes and cheroots, filling the parlours of the United Services Club⁷ in Simla with hazy blue tobacco smoke that swirled and marbled in the temperate summer air. They were loitering with intent, waiting to be invited forward to hear their viceroy’s valedictory speech. It was 30 September 1905 and George Curzon, the Right Honourable Lord Curzon of Kedleston, Viceroy and Governor-General of India, Knight Grand Commander of both the Most Exalted Order of the Star of India and the Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire, had just submitted his resignation to the Government of India. This sojourn to the summer retreat was part of his final tour of Britain’s most prized asset before he placed it in the hands of his successor, Gilbert Elliot-Murray-Kynynmound, 4th Earl of Minto⁸ and the second from the Minto clan to govern British India. As Curzon looked back on his service as the custodian of India since his appointment in 1899, a grand assignment that had seen him successfully manage a policy of reconciliation with the tribes of the troubled North-West Frontier, through force if required, he took a moment to reflect to his captive audience, the most favoured component of his small⁹ yet proficient government:

Perhaps I may be allowed to interpolate a word in this place about the particular branch of the service of which I have been more especially the head – I allude to the Political Department. The Viceroy, as taking the Foreign Office under his personal charge, has a greater responsibility for the officers of that Department than of any other. A good Political is a type of officer difficult to train. Indeed training by itself will never produce him. For there are required in addition qualities of tact and flexibility, of moral fibre and gentlemanly bearing, which are an instinct rather than an acquisition. The public at large hardly realises what the Political may be called upon to do. At one moment he may be grinding in the Foreign Office, at another he may be required to stiffen the administration of a backward Native State, at a third he may be presiding over a jirga of unruly tribesmen on the frontier, at a fourth he may be demarcating a boundary amid the wilds of Tibet or the sands of Seistan. There is no more varied or responsible service in the world than the Political Department of the Government of India; and right well have I been served in it, from the mature and experienced officer who handles a Native Chief with velvet glove, to the young military political who packs up his trunks at a moment’s notice and goes off to Arabia or Kurdistan. I commend the Political Department of the Government of India to all who like to know the splendid and varied work of which Englishmen are capable: and I hope that the time may never arise when it will cease to draw to itself the best abilities and the finest characters that the services in India can produce.¹⁰

The genesis of Curzon’s emotional gasconade and admiration for the rather particular cut of Englishman that was best placed to serve in British India’s isolated frontiers can be traced back to the dawn of the 17th century. In December 1600 Queen Elizabeth I declared that, in honour of her nation and for the wealth of her people, a licence should be awarded to the Governor and the Company of Merchants of London Trading with the East Indies to take forward her kingdom’s sole commercial enterprise with the east. The pursuit of realising Her Majesty’s trade goals required the dedication and commitment of merchants, investors and administrators, all driven by their own global ambitions and with both the physical and mental strength to match. Within 200 years, the desire to increase and diversify trade through entrepreneurship and ruthlessness had transformed an insignificant island nation into a dominant empire. It had also created a colossal semi-autonomous enterprise under the stewardship of the British East India Company, more familiarly known as the ‘John Company’, providing much of the governance, administration and military functions required to oversee such an immense natural and human resource.

Duty and dedication to the East India Company and to the Crown had given many British families bearing and purpose, both at home and overseas in an ever-expanding empire. The call to serve was answered from Edinburgh¹¹ to London, with sons being encouraged to make their fortunes overseas. Merchant families may have swollen the East India Company’s ranks, but they did not have the monopoly. The Shakespears, a modest London family, also answered the call. The family’s distant ancestral roots may have intertwined with those of Britain’s greatest literary figure, but their foundations were far humbler with public records recalling their beginnings in 17th-century England and the east London parish of Shadwell. The Shadwell Shakespears were predominantly rope-makers, cord-makers who were adept at manipulating and treating immense lengths of raw sisal hemp fibre into hefty coils of rope at their Ratcliffe Highway rope-works¹² close to the shipyards in Deptford and Blackwall that diverged from London’s main water artery, the River Thames. During the age of sail their enterprise was prosperous, supplying cordage to both the Board of Ordnance for use on warships¹³ patrolling the empire’s extensive coastline and high seas, and the increasing fleet of Indiamen merchant ships sailing from far-flung cardinal points under the protection of the navy’s swords and cannon, all intent on unloading their exotic commodities at the nearby dockland basin. Sailors and merchants vied to tell their tales of exploration, adventure and wealth in far-off foreign lands, stories that were increasingly embellished as they swept through the ships’ weathered decks and companionways, spilling over onto the dockside, where they were attended to with aplomb by shore-side traders, stevedores and dreamers alike.

As the empire’s influence and governance spread further across the Indian subcontinent, driven forward by the East India Company’s unending thirst for profit, sail gave way to steam as commerce was strengthened by industrialisation. Demand for coal increased to feed the cast-iron boilers that turned the paddle wheels and propellers, while the need for rope to secure the massive canvas sheets that harnessed the winds reduced. The changing market, combined with the opportunity to experience a new life, embracing hues and tastes found only on the empire’s vast frontiers and unexplored exotic hinterland, was enough to persuade the Shadwell Shakespears to take a chance with the East India Company rather than stay in east London’s dark, squalid and hazardous docklands, where the toxic industrial spill and fog produced by neighbouring mills, lead-smelters and sulphur- and gunpowder-makers polluted the water and air.

As with most Anglo-Indian families,¹⁴ India was to be the Shakespears’ mainstay and normal place of residence. Their only phys...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of illustrations
• List of maps
• Maps
• Author’s note and acknwoledgements
• Foreword
• Preface
• 1 The Treaty of Darin
• 2 Family history, youth and apprenticeship
• 3 Fed on the bread of adversity
• 4 In the service of the Viceroy
• 5 Feuding for the Nejd
• 6 The explorer and the emir
• 7 Al-Hasa
• 8 Turkish intrigue
• 9 An understanding of the Nejd
• 10 The path less travelled
• 11 The struggle for primacy
• 12 One last hurrah
• 13 Over the horizon, the Great War
• 14 On special duty
• 15 Jihad
• 16 Backing the right horse
• 17 Jirab
• 18 Kindly put that question down
• 19 Ad mortem
• Endnotes
• Bibliography
• Photo credits
• Index