Looking back in my diary, I found the day I bought this book: Saturday 4th March 2023. I stumbled on it while browsing in the back room of the Flea Market on Market Street. It’s a beautifully produced large Folio Society volume in perfect condition. As is often the case with these, it didn’t look as though it had ever been read. I was attracted partly by the wonderful attractive cover, a montage of romantic drawings of charging camels, WWI biplanes, and Rolls Royce armoured cars. The spine features the silhouette of a figure on a camel with the sun (or moon?) framing them. I thought that just to have it on my bookshelf would be a treat. Of course I knew of T E Lawrence, “Lawrence of Arabia”, and had a vague idea that this was his memoir. If I’d been honest with myself at the time I’d have admitted that the chance of me reading it any time soon was very slight. Two years later though I’m deep in the world of WWI, so it seemed an obvious choice for my reading list. Also, last year I read James Bar’s A Line in the Sand about the geopolitics of the Middle East in the early 20th C. It included a good deal of detail on Lawrence’s exploits, so my interest had already been piqued.

T E Lawrence had worked as an archeologist employed by the British Museum in what is now Syria before the war. He spoke fluent Arabic and was familiar with Arab customs and etiquette. At the outbreak of war he enlisted in the British Army and was assigned to military intelligence in Cairo. In 1916 he was sent on a fact finding mission to the Hejaz (western modern Saudi Arabia) and made contact with King Hussain and his sons, Ali, Abdulla, and Feisal. The main narrative of the book begins with this mission. After reporting back to Cairo, he’s sent to Hejaz as permanent liaison with Feisal’s army, the military spearhead of the Arab revolt at this stage. He convinced Feisal that a head-on confrontation with the Turks would be a mistake, and that they should work with the strengths of the Bedouin and concentrate on long range pin point strategic attacks. Echoes of the later SAS strategy in WWII. Lawrence took part in several raids on the strategic Turkish railways, blowing up bridges and attacking railway stations. The first major action described in the book was the long range exhibition to attack and capture the port of Aqaba from the undefended desert side of the town. During this he meets the fearsome warrior Auda and persuades him to join the nationalist cause. This is followed by further railway attacks and the battle of Tafila during the bitter winter of 1917/18. I had no idea that it snowed in the desert. Lawrence describes almost dying of cold. The book concludes with the final march on Damascus on the right flank of Allenby’s British Army as they drove through Palestine. By now Feisal’s forces have air support and are accompanied by British armoured cars and artillery. Lawrence describes the Turkish massacre of Arab villagers during their retreat, and the subsequent massacre of Turkish soldiers captured by the Arabs in turn, which he thinks are entirely justified. The book ends very abruptly after the capture of Damascus. Lawrence explains that he asks Allenby if he can retire, and in a page it’s ended. No reflections on the subsequent outcomes or his role in the negotiations, which is a shame.

It’s the most thrilling adventure story. Lawrence writes beautifully and fluently and in great detail. The 560 pages cover a period of around two years, so there’s room for a almost day by day account. He loves to describe the epic journeys by camel across the Arabian desert and revels in the joys and hardships. At times he gives an almost turn-by-turn account. I imagine I could go there and follow in his footsteps; up this waddi, over that lava field and through a mountain pass. He revels particularly in the beauty of Wadi Rum a region of sharp mountains bracketing a sand valley. I have a very boyish romantic image of the desert. I’ve never been to Arabia or North Africa, so it’s wholly untainted by reality. Instead I’m infused with Tintin books and 1970s films of the Foreign Legion, or the Desert Rats of WWII. So Lawrence’s romantic portrait of the desert landscapes plays a familiar tune on my imagination. The effects of heat and thirst, and the poverty of provisions are all lyrically invoked. You need a large cold drink of water after some of the passages! He’s also a perceptive observer of character. There are evocative portraits of the Arabs, especially his servants and body guards, as well as the leaders, although I must confess to getting confused between the various Nuris and Nasirs. It’s a pity that Lawrence doesn’t allow the occasional Arabic word or phrase to seep into the narrative because one forgets that all the conversations and interactions he described are not carried out in English. On the whole he’s generous to his fellow human beings, although not slow to condemn where he feels it justified. On some he lavishes extensive praise, particularly his two masters, Feisal and Allenby.

A running theme throughout is his divided loyalty as both a British officer and a fierce and vocal proponent of Arab nationalism. To his British overlords he plays the clever manipulator of Arab politics and military strategy, to Feisal and the Arabs he makes promises of future independence that he knows he can’t guarantee. He’s particularly compromised by the publication of the Sykes Picot agreement by the Bolsheviks in November 1917. To be fair to Lawrence, he believed that if the Arabs played a major and decisive role in ousting the Turks they would have a far greater bargaining position in the final settlement. There’s no doubt that he was personally torn by the contradiction. He did genuinely believe in Arab independence and agitated on their behalf after the war.

There’s no doubt that Lawrence was a mixed up kid. He describes frequent bouts of self-loathing and what we would now describe as impostor syndrome. He feels unworthy to the job he’s been given, and even in success hates himself for his pride and vanity. The book is full of not-very-veiled references to his homosexuality. The homoerotic descriptions of young Arab male bodies; his finding pleasure at shared comfort and warmth huddled with his servants at night. In one disturbing passage he’s captured by the Turks in Deera, although they have no idea he’s a British officer, instead taking him for a light-skinned Arab. The commander of the garrison attempts to rape him and when Lawrence fights him off by kicking him in the balls, the commander orders him to be taken away and beaten and raped by the guards. He describes the experience as “sexual”. Later in life he paid men to beat him, so there’s clearly an element of masochism in his sexuality. This masochism also expresses itself in a kind of physical self-hatred. He’s always pushing his body to extremes almost as a self-punishment. I guess it gives him the motivation for those gruelling thirsty desert treks, turning his peccadillos to practical military advantage. All this mental turmoil is described in long poetic passages. Too long. They are parts of the book that I mostly skipped over. He goes on and on in stream-of-consciousness self reflective musings. Done well, they might add up to something, but they’re not done well. I suppose they reveal his mental state, but as a something to read they are just tedious. Very similar to the passages in VM Yeates’ Winged Victory. I guess it must have been a thing at the time?

One of joys of reading books written at other times in history is the clear view they give of attitudes and morals of the time. Seven Pillars of Wisdom is an excellent example of this as Lawrence’s Edwardian views on race and sex are on full display and polar opposites of what a writer today would think appropriate. What we now consider outright and shocking racism, was simply an objective observation in his time. The Syrians, “similar to the Japanese, apelike, but less ingenious”. The Arab’s African slaves are described almost as a different species. He admires their bodies, but finds their faces repulsive. As for the institution of Slavery itself, he’s fine with it, admitting that they have no human rights under Arab law, but that it’s not really done to be treating them too savagely. Women are also dismissed. At one point he writes “… inferior beings, like women and dogs.” His stated assumption is that the British are the current apex of human perfection. He is quite happy to act as judge jury and executioner when one of his Arab servants kills another man. He shoots him after a summary trial and says how this was far better than letting the dead man’s clan take revenge. Whilst this casual racism and sexism is on full display, he dare not be explicit about his sexuality. This would not bother a modern writer in the least. In fact it would be a selling point. People have strong moral beliefs, just different ones at different times and places. I think it’s a huge mistake to judge any historic writer by the morals of our time. We have to understand them in context. The vast majority of British people at the time thought in the same way as Lawrence, to a greater or lesser extent. It would be wrong to condemn him for what were then acceptable mainstream views.

This really is a terrific book that I’m very happy that I found time to read. Lawrence is both a complex and troubled man, but also heroic, fully justifying his historic reputation. He played a major role in bringing to end the rule of the Ottomans and shaping the current Middle East. Feisal’s Hashemite family are still the rulers of Jordan where much of the action takes place. If you want to get a sense of Arabia (and the British empire) in the early 20th century there can be few better descriptions.