The post-World War II demarcation of boundaries in the Middle East mandated by the League of Nations seems arbitrary considering the linguistic, ethnic and historic ties among the Arabs living in the region. Nevertheless, the adoption of capitalist systems and Western institutions of government helped to stabilize those artificial national boundaries. However, Arabs in the Middle East maintain supranational loyalties which reflect common ethnic ties and account for the peculiar relations among Middle East countries.
Nationalism, national boundaries, and the nation-state system in the Arab world present to the student of international affairs a unique set of paradoxes. Whereas few, if any, scholars would treat pan-Africanism or pan-Americanism with any degree of seriousness, social scientists who study the politics of the Middle East - even those who would debunk the pragmatic value of the doctrine - can ill afford to ignore the impulse that celebrates the linguistic, ethnic, or historic ties among Arabs and/or that demands the political integration of the region. Nevertheless, past attempts at unification, such as those that culminated in the ill-fated United Arab Republic, have (with perhaps the singular and inauspicious exception of the unification of the two Yemens) miscarried, and contemporary attempts by such figures as Libyan leader Muammar Qadhafi to resurrect them are generally greeted with bemusement. While the boundaries of Arab states - particularly those rectilinear boundaries that demarcate the frontiers of Syria, Jordan, Iraq, and the various nations of the Arabian peninsula - often appear arbitrary and capricious and have provided the incentive for continual sabre-rattling,(1) they have (with the notable exceptions of the boundaries separating Israel from its Arab neighbors, Iraq from Kuwait, and Iran from Iraq) remained remarkably stable for a period of almost half a century. While Syria has historically presented itself as the "beating heart of Arab nationalism," and while the constitution of that country's governing Ba'th party proclaims that "the Arab nation constitutes an indivisible political and economic unity," and, "no Arab country can live apart from the others,"(2) Syria found it economically and strategically advantageous to break Arab ranks and to support non-Arab Iran in its war against Iraq - an Arab nation that is ruled by a rival Ba'th faction.
Although most of humankind finds no contradiction in espousing multiple allegiances - to cities, regions, nations, religious communities, historic traditions, and so forth - depending on the occasion, only within the countries of the Arab Middle East does the dominant political discourse embrace and promote countervailing loyalties to national and supernational entities simultaneously. This seeming contradiction can be attributed to the peculiar history of the national movements that took shape in the region, particularly in the area of the Fertile Crescent (present-day Syria, Lebanon, Israel and the occupied territories, Jordan, and Iraq). It was in this area that the synthesis of contemporary Arab nationalism occurred in the wake of, and as a result of, two bounding processes. The first process - the nineteenth century spread of dependent capitalism and the imposition of modem institutions of governance - transformed social relations in the region, creating the conditions in which a variety of ideologies could emerge among both the elite and the non-elite population. The second process took place in the aftermath of World War I. The imposition of mandates authorized by the League of Nations and the subsequent distinct but parallel evolutionary paths followed by the resultant proto-national units - paths that defined the social and institutional frameworks in which these ideologies were situated - determined not only which ideologies would survive, but the nature of their configuration.
In the remainder of this article, I shall investigate how the interaction between these two processes in the Fertile Crescent generated a distinctive and lasting combination of national and supernational identifies among the indigenous population.

Nationalism in the Fertile Crescent became possible during the first decades of the twentieth century as a result of social and economic changes that had transformed the Ottoman Empire during the previous seventy years. Starting in the mid-nineteenth century, institutions and social and economic relations within the Ottoman Empire suffered pressure from two sources. As a result of the first source of pressure, the accelerating rate of integration of the Middle East into the world economy, peripheral capitalism not only increasingly determined social and economic relations within the empire, but the geographic boundaries in which such determination took place advanced as well. The second source of pressure - the attempts made by the Ottoman government to strengthen and rationalize central control - was embodied in a series of administrative acts collectively known as the Tanzimat. Although designed to enable the Ottoman Empire to resist European expansion, the Tanzimat ironically facilitated Western economic penetration of Ottoman domains: not only did Tanzimat policies directly encourage the expansion of capitalist relations within the empire, but they also prompted the construction of institutions that were congruent with those of Europe.
Although a full discussion of the effects produced by the expansion of capitalist relations and Ottoman administrative reforms is beyond the scope of this article, four effects are particularly relevant for understanding the origins of nationalism in the Fertile Crescent:(3)
First, new social classes emerged while the economic roots of existing classes shifted. For example, the size and economic influence of the Christian bourgeoisie, particularly in coastal towns such as Beirut and Alexandria, expanded, and the so-called "middle strata" made up of intellectuals, military officers, professionals, and others necessary for the implementation of Tanzimat appeared as an autonomous social category for the first time. In many cities, such as Damascus, the economic and political status of notables increasingly depended on landownership and on good relations with Istanbul; simultaneously, the status of those notables who lacked one or the other declined. In addition, the position of other groups (for example, the ulama upon whose judicial and educational functions the newly strengthened central government was steadily encroaching) declined. As a consequence of the ensuing status revolution, tensions grew within the empire between new "rising elites" and "declining elites," creating fault lines that would later demarcate the frontiers of ideological contention.
The second effect of the spread of capitalist relations and the implementation of Tanzimat policies affected the status of peasants. Peasant life was frequently transformed by the spread of capitalism: many peasants increasingly found themselves at the mercy of usurers, planted cash crops for export, and supplemented family incomes by participating, sometimes seasonally, sometimes permanently, in the urban labor force. As a result, the boundaries that linked city and countryside became more permeable, and local bonds of loyalty were loosened and frequently replaced by new, wider (sometimes national) bonds that circumscribed the sweep of regional market relations.
The twin processes also affected the nature of cities. Coastal cities and extramural urban areas expanded as a result of shifting economic patterns and migration. Beirut, for example, grew from a town of 8,000 in 1800 to a city of 130,000 in 1900. Further south, Jaffa emerged as an important port on the eastern Mediterranean in the nineteenth century, only to be eclipsed during the next century by Haifa. The expanding export trade encouraged the greenfield construction of other cities, such as Isma'iliyya on the Suez Canal. Newcomers to cities frequently settled in neighborhoods (such as the Maydan in Damascus and al-Kallasa in Aleppo) in which ties of patronage were tenuous at best. In addition, the construction and reconstruction of cities, sometimes (as in the case of districts of Cairo and Istanbul) along European lines, transformed the nature of urban space, facilitated the breakdown of quarter-based loyalties, and created public areas in which, for example, ceremonies could take place, thereby expediting what historian George L. Mosse has called the "nationalization of the masses."(4)
Finally, the spread of capitalist relations and the attempt to impose a uniform apparatus of power throughout the Ottoman Empire resulted in the redrawing of boundaries that divided state from civil society. The state imposed new obligations, such as the much-detested conscription, and took charge of functions that had previously been in the hands of civil society, such as education, public works, and even welfare policies. Once again, this encouraged the rending of parochial loyalties held by the population and, again in the words of George L. Mosse, made "political action into a drama supposedly shared by the people themselves."(5)
Overall, these changes contributed to expanded physical and social mobility and the weakening or dissolution of customary bonds of patronage and consanguinity. In time - and especially during periods of heightened social, economic, and political transformation and/or contention - horizontal ties rivaled, subsumed, and even replaced the narrower vertical ties that were incompatible with the transformed social and economic landscape. These horizontal ties, in turn, acted as both the stimulus and model for the construction and dissemination of new conceptions of political community.
Because the spread of market relations and the impact of revitalized institutions of state filtered through the diverse communities and social strata of the Fertile Crescent unevenly and asynchronously, ideological responses to these were also uneven and asynchronous. While, for example, during the latter half of the nineteenth century a distinctive nationalist ideology found increasing acceptance among the Maronite population of Lebanon - an ideology that extolled the community's Christian identity, Phoenician roots, and communal evolution - the concurrent need to invent a usable past was less apparent to neighboring non-Maronite communities whose social bonds and institutional infrastructure had remained relatively unaffected by the spread of peripheral capitalism.(6) Similarly, the emergent urban elites in Damascus, Beirut, Cairo, and Istanbul - members of the landowning/bureaucratic notability and their parvenu allies among the middle strata who were the chief beneficiaries of the social transformations induced by the spread of market relations and Ottoman centralization policies - advocated a variety of competing linguistic and territorial-based ideologies (such as Ottomanism and Arabism) before conditions permitted the widespread diffusion of nationalisms among non-elites.(7)
Although disparate, however, the repercussions from the new social and economic realities were nonetheless pervasive. Beginning in the first decades of the twentieth century and continuing throughout the mandate period, the new realities also had the ironic effect of provoking episodic resistance among large numbers of non-elites within the Fertile Crescent while simultaneously providing the necessary horizontal linkages to facilitate widespread and sustained political mobilization.
Two such instances of populist mobilization are particularly useful to demonstrate the linkages that connected social transformation with political and ideological response. During the twenty-two month period between the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire and the forcible imposition of a French mandate in inland Syria - a period of economic chaos and political uncertainty - populist organizations representing the interests of the declining elites, merchants, and the urban petite-bourgeoisie and underclasses increasingly challenged the authority of the temporary Arab government that had been established in Damascus. By linking local and regional committees to a national structure, these organizations were able to assume primary responsibility for a wide variety of tasks: they mustered volunteer militias to provide internal security and national defense, ran guns, collected taxes, licensed monopolies, dispensed poor relief and refugee assistance, guaranteed a "fair price" for grain, and so forth.(8) An analogous mobilization took place in Palestine almost two decades later when, during the 1936-39 "Great Revolt," locally based "national committees," "nourishment and supply committees," and peasant bands wrested control of similar functions from the hands of the state and the traditional notability.(9)
The populist rebellion of 1919-20 and the Palestinian Great Revolt were moments in a process through which non-elites in the Fertile Crescent both reconceptualized their community and undertook its reconstitution.(10) The model they used to reconstruct society was assertively traditionalist and anti-capitalist: in place of market relations, the model counterposed economic paternalism; in place of political loyalties, affective bonds; and in place of "structure," "communitas."(11) While the process of revolt often translated the egalitarian impulse and economic paternalism into mob role and extortion, the unmediated relationship that connected formerly anomic individuals to a wider community - a community whose variable and indefinite boundaries often coincided with and lent meaning to the furthest extent of regional market relations and informal migratory circuits (i.e., "Syria within its natural boundaries")(12) - lay at the heart of popular nationalism. This community provided the political field upon which indigenous nationalist elites, working under conditions dictated by the international community, could superimpose the institutions and prescripts of the modern nation-state.

In a memorandum addressed to Woodrow Wilson, William Linn Westermann, chief of the U.S. State Department's division on Western Asia, candidly labeled the Near East "the great loot of the war."(13) Although the European powers had nibbled at the edges of the Ottoman Empire before the war, the empire had entered the twentieth century weakened and territorially truncated, but intact. To a large extent the Ottoman Empire owed its survival to the concert of European powers that had, during the nineteenth century, managed both to protect the interests of the individual European nations in the empire and (with the notable exception of the Crimean War of 1854-56) to deflect potential crises through diplomacy. The end of the concert of Europe in 1914 and the entrance of the Ottoman Empire into World War I on the side of the central powers, however, heralded the demise of the four-hundred-year-old empire.
As soon as it became clear that the war would not end quickly, each of the entente powers began to maneuver to be in a position to claim the Middle Eastern spoils they coveted in the event of victory. For Russia, those spoils were obvious: the Russian dream of access to warm water ports could be realized by laying claim to the Turkish Straits. France asserted its "historic rights" in the region of the empire that is present-day Syria and Lebanon. France based this claim both on its role as protector of Lebanon's Maronite population and on its economic interests in the region, such as investments in railroads and in raw silk production. Great Britain focused on its long-standing obsession with the protection of the sea routes to India and on ensuring postwar security for investment and trade in the region.(14)
In the aftermath of the war, Britain and France, the two remaining entente powers with interests in the Fertile Crescent (the new Bolshevik government not only renounced Russian claims, but, much to the embarrassment of the Britain and France, had the temerity to publish the texts of the secret agreements to which the tsarist government had been party), sought to consolidate and guarantee those interests within the framework of the new international order. The two imperial powers thus shouldered the "sacred trust of civilisation" and, in their role as mandatories, assumed responsibility for the "well-being and development" of those benighted territories "which are inhabited by peoples not yet able to stand by themselves under the strenuous conditions of the modern world." According to Article 22 of the Covenant of the League of Nations:
Certain communities formerly belonging to the Turkish Empire have reached a stage of development where their existence as independent nations can be provisionally recognised subject to the rendering of administrative advice and assistance by a Mandatory until such time as they are able to stand alone. The wishes of these communities must be a principal consideration in the selection of the Mandatory.(15)
The story of the Inter-Allied Commission on Syria (the so-called King-Crane Commission) illustrates the cynicism with which the French and British governments undertook their "sacred trust." Originally proposed by Woodrow Wilson during a meeting of the Council of Four, the commission was instructed to tour the Middle East to "elucidate the state of opinion and the soil to be worked on by any mandatory"(16) and to report its findings to the Peace Conference. The commission traveled from Palestine to Anatolia during the summer of 1919, received 1,863 petitions, and held audiences with, among others, thirty-four mayors and municipal councils, fifteen administrative councils, sixty-five councils of village chiefs, thirty Arab sheikhs, and seventeen professional and trade associations. Although the commissioners found that the overwhelming majority of emissaries and petitioners supported the unity of Syria ("Syria within its natural boundaries") and, in order of preference, no mandate, an American mandate, or a British mandate, the Peace Conference ignored their report and authorized the division of Syria into separate mandated territories under French and British control.(17) As naive (or, perhaps, wryly perverse(18)) as Wilson's proposal may have been, however, even the commissioners had few illusions about their mission: in a memorandum sent to President Wilson before their embarkation, they argued that the mandate for Syria should go to France, "frankly based, not on the primary desires of the people, but on the international need of preserving friendly relations between France and Great Britain."(19)
Thus, neither France nor Great Britain consulted or even considered the desires or interests of the indigenous population before receiving their respective Middle Eastern mandates. At the San Remo Conference of April 1920, France acquired the mandate for Syria while the mandates for Palestine and Mesopotamia went to Great Britain. The powers cleaved and spliced territories and assigned boundaries on the basis of imperial need, Orientalist assumptions, and historic accident. For example, France not only divided Lebanon from Syria (thereby ensuring the existence of a friendly, predominantly Christian coastal enclave) but, as a logical consequence of their divide et impera policy, partitioned their inland territory into a variety of administrative units, including, at various times, a state of Damascus, a state of Aleppo, an Alawite state, the Jabal Druze, and the Sanjak of Alexandretta (later ceded by France to Turkey, much to the consternation of Syrian nationalists, for raisons d'etat). Britain divided Palestine along the Jordan River, creating a cis-Jordanian coastal territory which would be open for Zionist immigration and an economically untenable trans-Jordanian amirate carved out of desert.
Perhaps the most improbable state constructed in the Fertile Crescent during this period was Iraq. The British government, contriving to turn the rich agricultural lands of Mesopotamia into a granary for their Indian colony, fused together the two former Ottoman provinces of Baghdad and Basra; to ensure the economic viability of the new state, the British affixed the oil-rich province of Mosul to what would become Iraq. While this assemblage may have appeared economically sound to the state-builders in Whitehall, its territory included populations with significant ethnic and religious differences: the majority of those living in mandated Iraq were Shi'i Arab, the ruling elites (including an Hejazi king and an entourage that contained Syrians and Palestinians) were Sunni Arabs, and the north was inhabited by Sunni Kurds who, then as now, would have preferred self-rule. The ensuing political instability was not unforeseen: British policymakers, realizing that Iraqi leaders would have to continue to depend on outside assistance to remain in power, granted Iraq independence in 1932, well ahead of the other mandated territories that were undoubtedly better prepared for independence.(20)
While the British and the French imposed governmental structures on the territories under their supervision that ranged from integrative constitutional monarchies in Iraq and trans-Jordan to statutory communalisms in Palestine (cis-Jordan) and Lebanon, and from the French system that granted wide powers to their military governors to a less conspicuously intrusive British system (Palestine being the exception), the overall tendency during the quarter-century mandate period in the Fertile Crescent was toward indirect rule. This was the case even in the areas under French control where concessions granted to indigenous politicians were often more ostensible than real. While the preparation of the local inhabitants for self-rule was the purpose of the mandate system, it is more likely that the imperial powers encouraged the emergence of what they viewed as a more pragmatic and tractable nationalist leadership because the economic interests of local politicians frequently overlapped with those of the mandate powers, because indirect rule was less expensive, and because the mandate powers found that indirect rule was less provocative to the populations over which they ruled.
The rise to prominence of the social classes that, during the mandate period, maneuvered themselves to be in a position to assume responsibility for local rule and for midwifing a "safe" (i.e., a non-populist and socially conservative) nationalist movement - social classes that included, depending on the mandate, the landowning notability, the middle strata, and a faction of the bourgeoisie - has already been recounted. Two types of bonds united these groups with their counterparts in the West. Because the formation of the middle strata, the expansion of the bourgeoisie, and the post-1860 transformation of the urban notability depended on the spread of peripheral capitalism and modern institutions of governance in the Middle East, the categories used by these groups to organize the world and their society were coherent with the categories used by analogous groups - both in the metropole and in other peripheral areas - who benefited from, or whose origins can be traced to, the worldwide expansion of capitalism. In addition, elective ties of affinity, nurtured, for example, through education, religious affiliation, and/or wartime experiences, often linked members of these groups to their European counterparts. These natural and emulative bonds not only account for the strategies used by these groups to craft state institutions in the post-Ottoman Fertile Crescent, but explain why, during the same period, an influential bloc readily worked within the parameters set by the Paris Peace Conference in their efforts to win independence.
These elites were able to place themselves at the head of nationalist movements for three reasons. First, the French and British authorities violently suppressed any movement that displayed the characteristics of populist nationalism in their respective mandated territories. For example, immediately after the French army entered Damascus in July 1920, French authorities disbanded the populist organizations and sentenced the most important populist leaders to death in absentia for "activities and contacts with enemies of the state for the purpose of furthering their enterprises."(21) Five years later, they responded to a Syrian-wide uprising with a massive display of force that left an estimated six thousand Syrians dead and entire areas of Damascus leveled and/or depopulated.(22) Similarly, during the Great Revolt, the British deployed twenty thousand troops to Palestine, imposed collective punishments on villages suspected of harboring "terrorists," and organized commando-style Special Night Squads and "peace bands" from among their Zionist and Arab allies.(23)
Second, the elites possessed unique capabilities that made them indispensable for the success of any nationalist undertaking. Populist leaders assumed uncompromising, non-negotiable positions that, while congruent with their fundamentally apocalyptic view of politics, were invariably doomed to failure when pitted against the superior resources of the imperialist powers. The nationalist elites, on the other hand, were in a different position. While, as seen above, natural bonds connected Middle Eastern elites - even the nationalist elites - with their counterparts in the metropole, these elites had to participate in and/or guide the nationalist movement, both in order to retain their status among the non-elites and to ensure the dominance of a nationalist program that combined political radicalism with social conservatism. Thus, their position atop Middle Eastern society, combined with their Westernized Weltanschauung, afforded them the opportunity to mediate between the strictures imposed by the international community and the indigenous population. However, since the landowning notability that provided the core of the nationalist leadership in Syria, Lebanon, and Palestine sustained their social and economic status by maintaining localized ties of patronage, their privileged position was incompatible with the horizontality of the very national bonds they were obliged to promote. This contradiction ultimately led to the shackling or eradication of this class by a new generation of nationalist leaders in the decades following Word War II.(24)
Finally, nationalist elites not only enjoyed sufficient social prestige to attract the spontaneous consent of non-elites but, because of their control of institutions of local governance and networks of communication, for example, they often possessed formidable powers for the inculcation of values, mobilization, and/or coercion as well. One of the primary means used to manufacture state patriotism was education. As described by King Faisal I of Iraq:
In Iraq there is still - and I say this with a heart full of sorrow - no Iraqi people but unimaginable masses of human beings, devoid of any patriotic idea, imbued with religious traditions and absurdities, connected by no common tie, giving ear to evil, prone to anarchy, and perpetually ready to rise against any government whatever. Out of these masses we want to fashion a people which we would train, educated, and refine.(25)
Faisal appointed a former Ottoman functionary, Sati' al-Husri, director general of education in Iraq in 1921. Previously, al-Husri had been minister of instruction in Syria, where his career as an educational reformer was temporarily derailed because his attempts to promote secular nationalism among both boys and girls ran afoul of conservative (populist-connected) ulama.(26) Under al-Husri and his successors, elementary and secondary school enrollments in Iraq rose from 8,001 and 110 respectively in 1920-21 to 89,482 and 13,959 in 1939-40. Among these students were Shi'i Arabs who were encouraged to enroll in an accelerated program to facilitate their entrance into the Sunni-dominated bureaucracy.(27) Similarly, nationalist elites expanded educational opportunities in Syria and Palestine as well, and several schools, most notably Madrassa Kamiliyya and Maktab 'Anbar in Damascus, and the Rashidiyya and Rawdat al-M'arif in Jerusalem became hotbeds of nationalist agitation from which students were mobilized to participate in demonstrations and other nationalist activities.(28)
While teachers at these schools inculcated, at various times, both state patriotism and loyalty to the larger Arab nation, the schools were significant for far more than their curricula; the school systems also acted as way stations on what one might characterize, along with Benedict Anderson, as "inner pilgrimage routes."(29) A promising young man from the Syrian village of Duma, having received an elementary education in his village, might attend Maktab 'Anbar in Damascus, followed by matriculation at the Damascus Law Faculty (founded in 1919) or even in France. After graduation, he would, perhaps, seek employment in the bureaucracy or deployment by one of several nationalist organizations. Thus, he might remain in Damascus, return to his village, or establish himself in a provincial urban center in Syria. Each way station on the inner pilgrimage route was situated within the boundaries of the mandated territory; concurrently, a combination of internal factors (shared colonial language and educational and legal systems) and external constraints (the unique economic relationship that linked each mandated territory with its metropole) reinforced the discreteness of the routes themselves and thus amplified the significance of the newly established state boundaries.

The maturation of distinct state patriotisms continued even after the termination of mandates in the Fertile Crescent. Beginning in 1949, a series of revolutions in Syria and Iraq empowered army officers and their middle class allies in both nations. These regimes strengthened the sentiment of state patriotism among the citizenry through etatist economic policies and corporativist strategies for interest representation, and through the construction and expansion of a middle class salariat whose status and economic interests depended on the continued division of the region into separate entities. In addition, the partition of geographic Syria into British and French mandates - a partition that destroyed many of the structures through which a broader (pan-Syrian) nationalism could be disseminated - and the unique set of issues raised by the struggle between Zionists and Palestinians in "southern Syria" not only strengthened a restrictive Palestinian national identity during and after the mandate period, but prompted the construction of a Jordanian mythos and identity as a counterpoint to Palestinian nationalism as well.
On the other hand, during the post-mandate period the seizure of power by military officers in Syria and Iraq (as well as in Egypt) simultaneously nourished supernational, pan-Arabist loyalties throughout the region. In the wake of these revolutions, a new middle class and lower middle class stratum entered the government and bureaucracy, bringing with it the populist ethos described above. This ethos was consciously promoted by regimes that sought to consolidate their control by forging a new historic bloc rooted in the emergent middle class, the petite-bourgeoisie, and the peasantry. In their attempt to solidify this bloc, the new regimes encouraged an attenuated form of popular participation, utilizing symbols that resonated with their constituents (i.e., Arab unity, anti-Zionism, etc.) and competed with each other and with possible domestic rivals by assuming the role of spokesman for Arab unity or, during the post-1970 period, the mantle of Gamal 'Abd al-Nasr. In addition, this competition circumscribed the range of acceptable political standards and discourse in Lebanon and Jordan, states that did not undergo revolutionary transformation. As a result, over the past half century, both the process of state consolidation and the dynamics of the state system have simultaneously reinforced pan-Arab nationalism and state patriotisms among the population of the Fertile Crescent.

The League of Nations and the question of
national identity in the Fertile Crescent
James L. Gelvin
1. A list of fifteen boundary disputes among the Persian Gulf nations alone can be found in R.D. McLaurin, Don Peretz, and Lewis W. Snider, Middle East Foreign Policy: Issues and Processes (New York: Praeger Publishers, 1982), 210-11. See also Bahgat Korany, "Alien and Besieged Yet Here to Stay: the Contradictions of the Arab Territorial State," in Ghassan Salame', ed., The Foundations of the Arab State (London: Croom Helm, 1987), 66-71.
2. See Sylvia G. Haim, ed., Arab Nationalism: An Anthology (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1962), 233.
3. For a further discussion of the social and economic changes generated by these two processes, see, inter alia, Roger Owen, The Middle East in the World Economy, 1800-1914 (London: Methuen, 1981), 153-79, 244-72; Moshe Ma'oz, "The Impact of Modernization on Syrian Politics and Society during the Early Tanzimat Period," in William R. Polk and Richard L. Chambers, eds., Beginnings of Modernization in the Middle East: The Nineteenth Century (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1968), 333-50; Shimon Shamir, "The Modernization of Syria: Problems and Solutions in the Early Period of Abdulhamid," in Polk and Chambers, 351-82; Gabriel Baer, "Village and Countryside in Egypt and Syria: 1500-1900," in A.L. Udovitch, ed., The Islamic Middle East 700-1900 (Princeton: The Darwin Press, 1981), 595-652; Linda Schatkowski Schilcher, Families in Politics: Damascene Factions and Estates of the 18th and 19th Century (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag Wiesbaden GMBH, 1985), 60-86.
4. See George L. Mosse, The Nationalization of the Masses: Political Symbolism and Mass Movements in Germany from the Napoleonic Wars through the Third Reich (New York: Howard Fertig, 1975).
5. Ibid., 2.
6. The spread of peripheral capitalism within the Maronite community was facilitated by mutual ties of affinity that linked the members of the community with their co-religionists in France and, after 1861, by the community's autonomous politico-territorial status within the Ottoman Empire. See Kamal Salibi, A House of Many Mansions: The History of Lebanon Reconsidered (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 170-81; Roger Owen, The Middle East in the World Economy, 154-67.
7. See Philip S. Khoury, Urban Notables and Arab Nationalism: The Politics of Damascus 1880-1920 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983); C. Ernest Dawn, From Ottomanism to Arabism: Essays on the Origins of Arab Nationalism (Urbana, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 1973); Rashid Khalidi, "Ottomanism and Arabism in Syria before 1914: A Reassessment," in Khalidi et al, eds., The Origins of Arab Nationalism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991), 50-69.
8. See James L. Gelvin, "Popular Mobilization and the Foundations of Mass Politics in Syria, 1918-1920" (Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 1992).
9. See Ted Swedenburg, "The Role of the Palestinian Peasantry in the Great Revolt (1936-1939)," in Edmund Burke, III and Ira M. Lapidus, eds., Islam, Politics, and Social Movements (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 169-203.
10. Anthropologist Nels Johnson thus characterizes the Great Revolt as a "redemptive movement." Nels Johnson, Islam and the Politics of Meaning in Palestinian Nationalism (London: Kegan Paul International, 1982), 31.
11. Anthropologist Victor Turner defines structure as "society as a differentiated, segmented system of structural positions" that are "closely bound up legal and political norms and sanctions"; communitas is "society experienced or seen as 'an unstructured or rudimentarily structured and relatively undifferentiated commitatus, community, or even communion of equal individuals.'" Victor Turner, Dramas, Fields, and Metaphors: Symbolic Action in Human Society (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1974), 49, 237.
12. See James L. Gelvin, "Popular Mobilization in Syria," 232-37. According to Johnson, it was not uncommon for Palestinians during the period of the Great Revolt to refer to "Palestine" as "Southern Syria." Nels Johnson, Islam and the Politics of Meaning, 57.
13. Arthur S. Link, ed., The Papers of Woodrow Wilson (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1987), 57:443-44.
14. See J.C. Hurewitz, "The Entente's Secret Agreements in World War I: Loyalty to an Obsolescing Ethos," in David Kushner, ed., Palestine in the Late Ottoman Period (Jerusalem: Yad Izhak Ben-Zvi, 1986), 341-50.
15. J.C. Hurewitz, ed. and trans., The Middle East and North Africa in World Politics: A Documentary Record (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1979), 2:179.
16. See Arthur S. Link, ed., The Papers of Woodrow Wilson, 56:116.
17. See Harry N. Howard, The King-Crane Commission: An American Inquiry in the Middle East (Beirut: Khayats, 1963); James L. Gelvin, "The Ironic Legacy of the King-Crane Commission," in David Lesch, ed., The United States in the Middle East: An Historical Inquiry (Boulder: Westview Press, forthcoming, 1995).
18. See diary entry of Ray Stannard Baker in Arthur S. Link, ed., The Papers of Woodrow Wilson, 58:368.
19. Ibid., 58:322-26.
20. Great Britain granted independence to Transjordan in 1946. Although Lebanon and Syria won their independence at the end of 1943, the powers did not withdraw their troops until 1946. Among the many books dealing with the mandate system and origins of the state system in the Middle East are David Fromkin, A Peace to End All Peace (New York: Avon Books, 1989); M.E. Yapp, The Near East Since the First World War (London: Longman, 1991); Philip S. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1987); J.C. Hurewitz, The Struggle for Palestine (New York: Schocken Books, 1976); Hanna Batatu, The Old Social Classes and the Revolutionary Movements of Iraq (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978); Meir Zamir, The Formation of Modern Lebanon (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985).
21. See James L. Gelvin, Popular Mobilization, 431-32.
22. See Philip S. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate, 188-201.
23. Ted Swedenburg, "Palestinian Peasantry in the Great Revolt," 193-94.
24. See Hanna Batatu, The Egyptian, Syrian, and Iraqi Revolutions, (Washington, DC: Center for Contemporary Arab Studies, Georgetown University, 1984).
25. As quoted in Hanna Batatu, The Old Social Classes and the Revolutionary Movements of Iraq, 25.
26. Wajih al-Haffar, "al-Hukumat allati ta'aqabat 'ala al-hikm fi suriyya;' al-Shurta wa al-amn al-'amm (1953), 11/10); Archives Diplomatiques, Nantes 2374/#938. 29 April 1920.
27. Hanna Batatu, The Old Social Classes and the Revolutionary Movements of Iraq, 26.
28. 'Ali Sultan, Tarikh Suriyya 1918-1920 (Damascus: Dar Tlas lil-dirasat wal-tarjama wal-nashr, 1987), 108; Philip S. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate, 409-14; Foreign Office, London: 371/4182/125609. "Arab Movement and Zionism," 26 August 1919.
29. Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London: Verso, 1983), 53-61, 113-40.