Operation Nemesis: The Assassination Plot that Avenged the Armenian Genocide - Bogosian Eric - Страница 43

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In early March 1921, Kemal had big plans for the future Turkish republic. The last thing he needed was for Talat to arrive on his doorstep to claim leadership. (Decades after Talat’s death, either Kemal or those interested in perpetuating the mythologies surrounding the Young Turk charter membership would maintain that there was a great friendship and respect between Talat and Kemal. There is no evidence of such a relationship.) To complicate matters, during exactly this same period, the British were securing their hold on Mesopotamia (Iraq), a vast region acquired during the war along with other Arab territories. Though British leaders, particularly Lord Curzon, would deny it at the time, it was well understood that valuable oil reserves lay under the Middle Eastern sands. Only one man had the armies and the strategic know-how to stand in the way of the British grand design for the Middle East. That man was General Mustapha Kemal.

Kemal had proven himself a resilient and able foe. It makes sense that the British would have wanted either to remove or to mollify this brilliant but problematic young general. Assisting the new Turkish leader with his domestic problems could smooth out any issues the British might have at the Arab-Turkish border (roughly where Mosul lies). Removing or undermining Talat and Enver would make Kemal happy. And the British wanted oil concessions. Ergo, quid pro quo.

Kemal was also extremely cautious. The Great Powers had become very sophisticated about stirring up trouble and deposing leaders who did not suit their needs. Kemal was well aware of the power wielded by the United States as it interfered in the Philippines and in Mexico, not to mention Britain’s machinations in Egypt, the Hijaz, and Mesopotamia. Once he had secured the borders of his state, the new leader of Turkey avoided confrontation with the West. Combining boldness with caution would be a trademark of Mustapha Kemal for his entire career. (Ataturk was so afraid of assassination that he stayed away from Constantinople/Istanbul for decades after his ascension to power in Turkey. His only real return to the imperial city came at the end of his life, when he was dying.)

The British understood Kemal. Kemal understood the British. Although there was probably never a direct line of communication between the two, it’s interesting that Kemal did not launch guerrilla warfare against the British occupation of the Arab lands. Despite the deep antipathy the Arabs felt for the Turks, it remained an option. He carefully chose his battles, using the Chanak crisis as leverage at the bargaining table, while understanding that fighting for Mosul would put too much at risk. A brilliant pragmatist, Kemal Ataturk knew how far to push the British and when to give in.³⁸ A final tantalizing piece in this jigsaw puzzle is that the nation of Iraq was established by the British on March 16, 1921—one day after Talat’s assassination. And as we’ve seen, among Aubrey Herbert’s best friends were Gertrude Bell, Mark Sykes, and T. E. Lawrence—all people who were deeply involved in British intervention in the Middle East.

The Armenian side of the assassination plot was complex as well. The ARF was an embattled nationalist organization, and though revenge was high on their priority list, survival of the nation was the primary concern of the Tashnag leadership in 1920–21. For this reason, cooler heads than Garo, Natali, and Tehlirian were firm with regard to establishing the target’s identity while preserving absolute secrecy. It would be seen as a colossal blunder if the avenging assassins managed somehow to upset negotiations in Paris or in any way alienated the Allies and discouraged their assistance. For all these reasons, it is interesting that it was around this time that Herbert met with Talat in Germany. Within days after that meeting, someone confirmed Talat’s whereabouts to the Nemesis crew, sealing his fate. A few days later, Talat was dead.

According to the Tashnag narrative, in early March a coded letter arrived from Geneva reporting that “Talat had been seen in Geneva at the beginning of the month, in front of the British consulate.”³⁹ The letter was postmarked ten days earlier. The timeline was shaky, but the Nemesis team decided it was still possible that Talat was the man living in Hardenbergstrasse and decided to move Tehlirian as close to his quarry as possible. This would facilitate surveillance with the least danger of discovery.

Within two hours of receiving the communique, Hazor had located a room across the street from 4 Hardenbergstrasse at number 37. (The numerical layout on older Berlin streets often runs in sequence up one side of the street and then down the other side.) The second-story window overlooked the street and had a clear view of the facade of number 4. The room would be vacated in three days. Tehlirian could move in on March 5.

The next day, Apelian, unaware of the imminent assassination, arrived from the consulate and delivered the bad news arriving from the Armenian-Turkish front: the tiny republic was about to be overrun. Despite Soviet occupation, the situation in the Caucasus was highly unstable. Tehlirian, too preoccupied with Talat to be upset by this news, informed Apelian that he would be moving soon. He asked his friend to explain to the landlady that his doctor insisted he find an apartment with electric lighting. The dim gaslight was affecting his nervous condition. Tehlirian begged Apelian to do his talking for him because his German was still so faulty. The following evening, while Apelian was out, Hazor came by and assisted Tehlirian in his move.

The landlady of the new apartment at 37 Hardenbergstrasse, Frau Dittman, was a young widow. Maintaining an immaculate and orderly household, she employed a female servant, and her residence was quiet and peaceful. Like most rented rooms of the period, Tehlirian’s room was furnished with a dresser, a small desk and chair, an armchair, and a bed. The entrance from the street was through a gate, then through a courtyard to a door that led to a flight of stairs. The room itself was wide and airy, featuring a large window hung with drapes.

Alone in his room, Tehlirian was drawn to a gap in the curtains. He peered through. Below him lay the small avenue, bisected by a flower-embroidered median strip. The thoroughfare was dense with traffic that flowed between the important government buildings and institutions only a few blocks away. Students, office workers, and tradespeople formed a constant stream of humanity beneath the window. Many smoked or ate while walking. Across the way stood the residence of “Ali Salih Bey.” Tehlirian’s pulse quickened. A mere twenty-five meters separated him from the monster.

Tehlirian could not resist maintaining a constant vigil. The windows on the second floor remained lit for hours, but he could detect no movement within. In the middle of the night he woke up to find himself still seated at his post. The apartment across the way was now shrouded in darkness. Wearily, Tehlirian rose and finally made his way to bed. When daylight broke, he jumped out of bed and stationed himself again at the window. In case Frau Dittman should happen by, he opened a German lesson book on the desk before him.

The team was ready to act. Natali and Tehlirian took a long stroll together to review exactly how the killing was going to go down. Natali reiterated that after the assassination, Tehlirian must wait by the body and allow himself to be arrested. As they stood before Frau Dittman’s house, the windows of 4 Hardenbergstrasse glowed with light. Hidden in shadow, Natali handed Tehlirian the Luger pistol, telling him, “It has been tried and is ready for the command of your index finger.”⁴⁰

The next morning, Frau Dittman’s servant delivered tea, bread, and cheese. Tehlirian ignored the food as he focused on the building across the way with binoculars Natali had provided him. Like an eagle on a high perch, Tehlirian searched for any sign of his prey. The clock had not struck nine when the front door of 4 Hardenbergstrasse opened and “Ali Salih Bey” jogged down the front steps, clutching a sheaf of papers. The heavyset man paused when he hit the sidewalk, glanced up and down the street, then turned left.

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