Thomas Edward Lawrence

Thomas Edward Lawrence
Main
British scholar and military officer
byname Lawrence Of Arabia, also called (from 1927) T.E. Shaw
born Aug. 15, 1888, Tremadoc, Caernarvonshire, Wales
died May 19, 1935, Clouds Hill, Dorset, Eng.
British archaeological scholar, military strategist, and author best
known for his legendary war activities in the Middle East during World
War I and for his account of those activities in The Seven Pillars of
Wisdom (1926).
Early life
Lawrence was the son of Sir Thomas Chapman and Sara Maden, the governess
of Sir Thomas’ daughters at Westmeath, with whom he had escaped from
both marriage and Ireland. As “Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence,” the couple had
five sons (Thomas Edward was the second) during what was outwardly a
marriage with all the benefits of clergy. In 1896 the family settled in
Oxford, where T.E. (he preferred the initials to the names) attended the
High School and Jesus College. Medieval military architecture was his
first interest, and he pursued it in its historical settings, studying
crusader castles in France and (in 1909) in Syria and Palestine and
submitting a thesis on the subject that won him first-class honours in
history in 1910. (It was posthumously published, as Crusader Castles, in
1936.) As a protégé of the Oxford archaeologist D.G. Hogarth, he
acquired a demyship (travelling fellowship) from Magdalen College and
joined an expedition excavating the Hittite settlement of Carchemish on
the Euphrates, working there from 1911 to 1914, first under Hogarth and
then under Sir Leonard Woolley, and using his free time to travel on his
own and get to know the language and the people. Early in 1914 he and
Woolley, and Capt. S.F. Newcombe, explored northern Sinai, on the
Turkish frontier east of Suez. Supposedly a scientific expedition, and
in fact sponsored by the Palestine Exploration Fund, it was more a
map-making reconnaissance from Gaza to Aqaba, destined to be of almost
immediate strategic value. The cover study was nevertheless of authentic
scholarly significance; written by Lawrence and Woolley together, it was
published as The Wilderness of Zin in 1915.
The month the war began, Lawrence became a civilian employee of the
Map Department of the War Office in London, charged with preparing a
militarily useful map of Sinai. By December 1914 he was a lieutenant in
Cairo. Experts on Arab affairs—especially those who had travelled in the
Turkish-held Arab lands—were rare, and he was assigned to intelligence,
where he spent more than a year, mostly interviewing prisoners, drawing
maps, receiving and processing data from agents behind enemy lines, and
producing a handbook on the Turkish Army. When, in mid-1915, his
brothers Will and Frank were killed in action in France, T.E. was
reminded cruelly of the more active front in the West. Egypt at the time
was the staging area for Middle Eastern military operations of
prodigious inefficiency; a trip to Arabia convinced Lawrence of an
alternative method of undermining Germany’s Turkish ally. In October
1916 he had accompanied the diplomat Sir Ronald Storrs on a mission to
Arabia, where Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī, amīr of Mecca, had the previous June
proclaimed a revolt against the Turks. Storrs and Lawrence consulted
with Ḥusayn’s son Abdullah, and Lawrence received permission to go on to
consult further with another son, Fayṣal, then commanding an Arab force
southwest of Medina. Back in Cairo in November, Lawrence urged his
superiors to abet the efforts at rebellion with arms and gold and to
make use of the dissident shaykhs by meshing their aspirations for
independence with general military strategy. He rejoined Fayṣal’s army
as political and liaison officer.
Guerrilla leader.
Lawrence was not the only officer to become involved in the incipient
Arab rising, but from his own small corner of the Arabian Peninsula he
quickly became—especially from his own accounts—its brains, its
organizing force, its liaison with Cairo, and its military technician.
His small but irritating second front behind the Turkish lines was a
hit-and-run guerrilla operation, focussing upon the mining of bridges
and supply trains and the appearance of Arab units first in one place
and then another, tying down enemy forces that otherwise would have been
deployed elsewhere, and keeping the Damascus-to-Medina railway largely
inoperable, with potential Turkish reinforcements thus helpless to crush
the uprising. In such fashion Lawrence—“Amīr Dynamite” to the admiring
Bedouins—committed the cynical, self-serving shaykhs for the moment to
his king-maker’s vision of an Arab nation, goaded them with examples of
his own self-punishing personal valour when their spirits flagged,
bribed them with promises of enemy booty and English gold sovereigns.
Aqaba—at the northernmost tip of the Red Sea—was the first major
victory for the Arab guerrilla forces; they seized it after a two-month
march on July 6, 1917. Thenceforth, Lawrence attempted to coordinate
Arab movements with the campaign of General Sir Edmund Allenby, who was
advancing toward Jerusalem, a tactic only partly successful. In November
Lawrence was captured at Darʿā by the Turks while reconnoitring the area
in Arab dress and was apparently recognized and homosexually brutalized
before he was able to escape. The experience, variously reported or
disguised by him afterward, left real scars as well as wounds upon his
psyche from which he never recovered. The next month, nevertheless, he
took part in the victory parade in Jerusalem and then returned to
increasingly successful actions in which Fayṣal’s forces nibbled their
way north, and Lawrence rose to the rank of lieutenant colonel with the
Distinguished Service Order (DSO).
By the time the motley Arab army reached Damascus in October 1918,
Lawrence was physically and emotionally exhausted, having forced body
and spirit to the breaking point too often. He had been wounded numerous
times, captured, and tortured; had endured extremities of hunger,
weather, and disease; had been driven by military necessity to commit
atrocities upon the enemy; and had witnessed in the chaos of Damascus
the defeat of his aspirations for the Arabs in the very moment of their
triumph, their seemingly incurable factionalism rendering them incapable
of becoming a nation. (Anglo-French duplicity, made official in the
Sykes-Picot Agreement, Lawrence knew, had already betrayed them in a
cynical wartime division of expected spoils.) Distinguished and
disillusioned, Lawrence left for home just before the Armistice and
politely refused, at a royal audience on Oct. 30, 1918, the Order of the
Bath and the DSO, leaving the shocked king George V (in his words)
“holding the box in my hand.” He was demobilized as a lieutenant colonel
on July 31, 1919.
Postwar activities.
A colonel at 30, Lawrence was a private at 34. In between he lobbied
vainly for Arab independence at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919 (even
appearing in Arab robes) and lobbied vainly against the detachment of
Syria and Lebanon from the rest of the Arab countries as a French
mandate. Meanwhile he worked on his war memoir, acquiring for the
purpose a research fellowship at All Souls College, Oxford, effective
(for a seven-year term) in November 1919. By that time his exploits were
becoming belatedly known to a wide public, for in London in August 1919
an American war correspondent, Lowell Thomas, had begun an immensely
popular series of illustrated lectures, “With Allenby in Palestine and
Lawrence in Arabia.” The latter segment soon dominated the program, and
Lawrence, curious about it, went to see it himself.
Adviser on Arab affairs.
Lawrence was already on a third draft of his narrative when, in March
1921, he was wooed back to the Middle East as adviser on Arab affairs to
the colonial minister, then Winston Churchill. After the Cairo political
settlements, which redeemed a few of the idealistic wartime promises
Lawrence had made, he rejected all offers of further positions in
government; and, with the covert help of his wartime colleague, Air
Marshal Sir Hugh Trenchard, enlisted under an assumed name (John Hume
Ross) in the Royal Air Force on Aug. 28, 1922. He had just finished
arranging to have eight copies of the revised and rhetorically inflated
330,000-word text of The Seven Pillars of Wisdom run off by the press of
the Oxford Times and was emotionally drained by the drafting of his
memoir. Now he was willing to give up his £1,200 Colonial Office salary
for the daily two shillings ninepence of an aircraftman, not only to
lose himself in the ranks but to acquire material for another book. He
was successful only in the latter. The London press found him at the
Farnborough base, the Daily Express breaking the story on December 27.
Embarrassed, the RAF released him early the next month.
Finding reinstatement impossible, Lawrence looked around for another
service and through the intervention of a War Office friend, Sir Philip
Chetwode, was able to enlist on March 12, 1923, as a private in the
Royal Tank Corps, this time as T.E. Shaw, a name he claimed to have
chosen at random, although one of the crucial events of his postwar life
was his meeting in 1922, and later friendship with, George Bernard Shaw.
(In 1927 he assumed the new name legally.) Posted to Bovington Camp in
Dorset, he acquired a cottage nearby, Clouds Hill, which remained his
home thereafter. From Dorset he set about arranging for publication of
yet another version of Seven Pillars; on the editorial advice of his
friends, notably George Bernard Shaw, a sizable portion of the Oxford
text was pruned for the famous 128-copy subscription edition of 1926,
sumptuously printed and bound and illustrated by notable British artists
commissioned by the author.
Major literary works.
Lawrence’s The Seven Pillars of Wisdom (posthumous trade edition 1935,
with subsequent editions since) remains one of the few 20th-century
works in English to make epical figures out of contemporaries. Though
overpopulated with adjectives and often straining for effects and “art,”
it is, nevertheless, an action-packed narrative of Lawrence’s campaigns
in the desert with the Arabs. The book is replete with incident and
spectacle, filled with rich character portrayals and a tense
introspection that bares the author’s own complex mental and spiritual
transformation. Though admittedly inexact and subjective, it combines
the scope of heroic epic with the closeness of autobiography.
To recover the costs of printing Seven Pillars, Lawrence agreed to a
trade edition of a 130,000-word abridgment, Revolt in the Desert. By the
time it was released in March 1927, he was at a base in India, remote
from the publicity both editions generated; yet the limelight sought him
out. Unfounded rumours of his involvement as a spy in Central Asia and
in a plot against the Soviet Union caused the RAF (to which he had been
transferred in 1925 on the intervention of George Bernard Shaw and John
Buchan with the prime minister, Stanley Baldwin) to return him to
England in 1929. In the meantime he had completed a draft of a
semifictionalized memoir of Royal Air Force recruit training, The Mint
(published 1955), which in its explicitness horrified Whitehall
officialdom and which in his lifetime never went beyond circulation in
typescript to his friends. In it he balanced scenes of contentment with
air force life with scenes of splenetic rage at the desecration of the
recruit’s essential inviolate humanity. He had also begun, on commission
from the book designer Bruce Rogers, a translation of Homer’s Odyssey
into English prose, a task he continued at various RAF bases from
Karāchi in 1928 through Plymouth in 1931. It was published in 1932 as
the work of T.E. Shaw, but posthumous printings have used both his
former and adopted names.
Little else by Lawrence was published in his lifetime. His first
postwar writings, including a famous essay on guerrilla war and a
magazine serial version of an early draft of Seven Pillars, have been
published as Evolution of a Revolt (edited by S. and R. Weintraub,
1968). Minorities (1971) reproduced an anthology of more than 100 poems
Lawrence had collected in a notebook over many years, each possessing a
crucial and revealing association with something in his life.
Last years.
Lawrence’s last years were spent among RAF seaplanes and seagoing
tenders, although officialdom refused him permission to fly. In the
process, moving from bases on the English Channel to those on the North
Sea and leading charismatically from the lowest ranks as Aircraftman
Shaw, he worked on improved designs for high-speed seaplane-tender
watercraft, testing them in rigorous trials and developing a technical
manual for their use.
Discharged from the Royal Air Force on Feb. 26, 1935, Lawrence
returned to Clouds Hill to face a retirement, at 46, filled alternately
with optimism about future publishing projects and a sense of emptiness.
To Lady Astor, an old friend, he described himself as puttering about as
if “there is something broken in the works . . . my will, I think.” A
motorcycling accident on May 13 solved the problem of his future. He
died six days later without regaining consciousness.
Assessment.
Lawrence became a mythic figure in his own lifetime even before he
published his own version of his legend in The Seven Pillars of Wisdom.
His accomplishments themselves were solid enough for several lives. More
than a military leader and inspirational force behind the Arab revolt
against the Turks, he was a superb tactician and a highly influential
theoretician of guerrilla warfare. Besides The Seven Pillars of Wisdom,
his sharply etched service chronicle, The Mint, and his mannered prose
translation of the Odyssey added to a literary reputation further
substantiated by an immense correspondence that establishes him as one
of the major letter writers of his generation.
Lawrence found despair as necessary as ambition. He lived on the
masochistic side of asceticism, and part of his self-punishment involved
creating within himself a deep frustration to immediately follow, and
cancel out, high achievement by denying to himself the recognition he
had earned. At its most extreme, this impulse involved a symbolic
killing of the self, a taking up of a new life and a new name. Under
whatever guise, he was a many-sided genius whose accomplishments
precluded the privacy he constantly sought. By the manufacture of his
myth, however solidly based, he created in his own person a
characterization rivaling any in contemporary fiction.
Stanley Weintraub
Ed.
Encyclopaedia Britannica