Chapter 158: Chaos in the Middle East
In only two days, public fury across the Arab world reached its boiling point.
The ethnic conflict that had been buried beneath treaties, promises, and colonial bayonets was dragged into the open.
Yet Britain did not take these "screeching monkeys" seriously.
To the officials in London and the officers stationed in Amman, the Arabs were noisy, backward, and poor. The Jordanian government, already completely under British control, began suppressing the riots by military force.
In their eyes, the Jewish settlers were hateful, but at least there was profit to be squeezed from their pockets.
As for the impoverished Jordanians, even if one turned their purses upside down, not two coins would fall out.
Under the offensive of money, several British backed Jordanian officials began submitting proposals regarding [The Issue of Land Balance Between Jordan and Israel].
The Jewish settlers had only set foot on this land a few months ago.
Yet they were already preparing to seize sixty five percent of Jordan's fertile land, leaving more than eighty percent of the Arabs to struggle for survival on the remaining thirty five percent of inferior soil.
The moment this news spread, the entire Arab world was enraged.
Jordan, Jerusalem.
The full moon hung high above the ancient city, casting a layer of cold silver over stones that had witnessed thousands of years of conquest, worship, betrayal, and blood.
The streets were unusually empty.
Even the local security forces, who normally patrolled in groups, had disappeared without a trace.
Inside the Dome Temple, several imams gathered near the pulpit.
Below them, the crowd was dense and silent. Nearly all of Jerusalem's senior believers had gathered here. Among them were not only ordinary citizens, merchants, craftsmen, and elders, but also many believers from the local security forces.
When the elder walked to the front, everyone immediately bowed toward the platform.
"Sheikh."
The elder raised his hand, pressing it gently downward.
The hall gradually quieted.
Only then did he speak.
"Everyone, our faith and Arab civilization have been forced to the edge of a cliff by the Jewish people."
His voice was old, but every word was heavy.
"The British once promised us a country that belonged to Arabs. The government once promised us peace, stability, and a beautiful future. But now, their actions have proven that every promise was a lie."
His gaze swept over the crowd.
"For money, the chiefs have abandoned faith. For power, they have raised those who once massacred us to the status of masters."
His voice suddenly deepened.
"The war of a thousand years ago has not ended. That war is still being fought today. If we do nothing, we will lose Jerusalem. We will lose this holy city."
Recent humiliation had already ignited the crowd's hearts.
Fanatical religious vengeance mixed with the anger of survival, turning into a fire that could no longer be extinguished.
They had compromised.
They had polished British boots.
They had endured humiliation for the sake of bread, water, and the hope that tomorrow might be easier than today.
Yet what did they receive in return?
They were driven from their homes.
Their land was handed to their most hated enemy.
Under the cold moonlight, the believers raised their hands and bowed their bodies to the ground.
From this moment onward, revenge became another name for survival.
Seeing that the time was ripe, Kara Al of the resistance army walked to the pulpit.
Behind him, wooden crates were carried in one after another.
The lids were pried open.
Rifles, ammunition, and grenades lay inside like iron scripture.
Kara Al raised his voice.
"The blade is already in our hands. The war has begun."
His eyes burned.
"Revenge!"
A sharp roar echoed through the hall.
Then came another.
And another.
Soon, countless voices surged together, rising beneath the dome like a storm.
The next morning.
Several British soldiers were driving away the surrounding crowd. Behind them, the Arab school jointly built by local residents collapsed with a thunderous crash.
Dust billowed into the sky.
But this time, the people did not retreat.
They gathered instead, more and more of them filling the road, their eyes fixed on the ruins.
Two officials stood forward, waving their hands as they tried to calm the public anger.
"Everyone, please calm down! This is a legitimate land acquisition. The compensation is enough for us to build an even better school."
No one believed a single word of their nonsense.
The crowd shouted in unison.
"Drive the Jewish people out!"
"Drive the Jewish people out!"
Their voices became one.
The sound shook the entire street.
Seeing the situation slipping out of control, the British soldiers raised their rifles.
Bang!
A gunshot cut through the morning air.
But this time, the crowd did not scatter.
The officer, who had been stationed in Jordan for many years, immediately sensed something was wrong.
In the past, the Arabs would flee like frightened rabbits the moment a rifle fired.
Now, he saw killing intent in their eyes.
Sure enough, in the next instant, a bullet came from an unknown direction.
Bang.
It pierced the neck of an official standing on the podium.
Blood sprayed like a fountain.
That single shot released the beast hidden inside the crowd.
Within seconds, gunfire erupted everywhere.
The British soldiers, who had not even fully reacted, were riddled with bullets.
The same scene unfolded across Jerusalem.
Gun barrels emerged from cracks in brick walls, from windows, from rooftops, from alleys, from every opening that could conceal a man and a rifle.
The British patrols felt as if even the houses themselves were firing at them.
In the Jewish settlement, the resistance group organized by Kara Al, armed with Mauser rifles and clutching stick grenades, directly clashed with the British 13th Infantry Company responsible for security.
Tat tat tat.
The machine gun mounted at the crossroads spat scorching flames. Bullets struck the sand and stone, throwing up clouds of dust.
Several resistance fighters, too slow to take cover, had their legs torn apart by gunfire. They fell to the ground, crawling and screaming through the dust.
Seeing the enemy begin to fall back, the British officer shouted, "Advance and check the street!"
Two squads moved forward cautiously.
Click.
A mine was triggered.
Boom!
The K31 anti armor infantry mine, specially developed by the Cardolan Weapons Research Institute and adapted for Middle Eastern conditions, detonated beneath them.
The charge, powerful enough to overturn an armored vehicle, erased the two squads in a single blast.
The officer lowered his binoculars and cursed furiously.
"Were the inspectors eating pig slop? How did these people get military mines?"
The order for the urban uprising soon reached Amman.
The commander in chief of British forces in Jordan, J. Chode, flew into a rage.
As a hardliner who openly advocated harsher colonial rule, he nearly tore the telegram apart when he read that the 20th Infantry Regiment had suffered heavy losses inside the city.
His two mustaches bristled like an enraged beast.
In his eyes, the British were the symbol of civilization. Their rule over these ignorant fools was already a gift.
And now, these beasts dared to question the decisions of civilization?
Without even bothering to notify the government, he seized the telephone and roared into the receiver.
"Order all soldiers and Jewish civilians in the city to withdraw. Move the First Artillery Regiment toward Jerusalem immediately."
His face was dark with fury.
"The best way to make beasts obey is to make them feel pain."
The adjutant hesitated.
"Commander in chief, should we not consider the civilians?"
Chode wiped the sweat from his temples and nodded coldly.
"Of course we will consider them. Broadcast a warning to the madmen in the city. I will give them two days to leave."
His eyes turned ruthless.
"If they remain after that, they are rebels. They are rioters. I will show them no mercy."
When the two days ended, artillery pieces were lined up across the burning sand.
At the commander's signal, flags dropped.
The QF 18 pounder field guns opened fire on the city.
Shells screamed through the air and fell into Jerusalem.
Flames blossomed among the ancient stones.
Houses were torn apart.
Streets collapsed.
The ruins were shattered again, as if history itself were repeating its old cruelty upon this city.
Then one shell landed without deviation on the Dome Temple.
The explosion tore through the sacred building.
This scene was captured by a member of the Internal and External Intelligence Department who had risked death to infiltrate the city.
A week later, that photograph appeared on the front pages of the Middle East United Press, the German Newspaper, The Times, and many others.
Beneath the image was a stark accusation:
[British soldiers are expanding territory for their enemies!]
Of course, public opinion alone was not enough to trouble the British government.
What truly shook them were the continuous declarations of resistance now rising from every corner of the Middle East.
.....
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