ferment
which to-day stirs the hearts of all Moslems."[89] The bitter rancour
seething in many Moslem hearts shows in outbursts like the following,
from the pen of a popular Turkish writer at the close of the Balkan
Wars: "We have been defeated, we have been shown hostility by the
outside world, because we have become too deliberative, too cultured,
too refined in our conceptions of right and wrong, of humanity and
civilization. The example of the Bulgarian army has taught us that every
soldier facing the enemy must return to the days of barbarism, must have
a thirst of blood, must be merciless in slaughtering children and women,
old and weak, must disregard others' property, life, and honour. Let us
spread blood, suffering, wrong, and mourning. Thus only may we become
the favourites of the civilized world like King Ferdinand's army."[90]

The Great War itself was hailed by multitudes of Moslems as a
well-merited Nemesis on Western arrogance and greed. Here is how a
leading Turkish newspaper characterized the European Powers: "They would
not look at the evils in their own countries or elsewhere, but
interfered at the slightest incident in our borders; every day they
would gnaw at some part of our rights and our sovereignty; they would
perform vivisection on our quivering flesh and cut off great pieces of
it. And we, with a forcibly controlled spirit of rebellion in our hearts
and with clinched but powerless fists, silent and depressed, would
murmur as the fire burned within: 'Oh, that they might fall out with one
another! Oh, that they might eat one another up!' And lo! to-day they
are eating each other up, just as the Turk wished they would."[91]

Such anti-Western sentiments are not confined to journalists or
politicians, they are shared by all classes, from princes to peasants.
Each class has its special reasons for hating European political
control. The native princes, even when maintained upon their thrones and
confirmed in their dignities and emoluments, bitterly resent their state
of vassalage and their loss of limitless, despotic power. "Do you know,
I can hardly buy a pen or a sword for myself without asking the Resident
for permission?" remarked an Indian rajah bitterly. His attitude was
precisely that of Khedive Tewfik Pasha, who, in the early days of the
British occupation of Egypt, while watching a review of British troops,
said to one of his ministers: "Do you suppose I like this? I tell you, I
never see