Prince of his disorder

Hero: The Life and Legend of Lawrence of Arabia. By Michael Korda. Harper; 762 pages; $36. JR Books; £25. Buy from Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk

LAWRENCE OF ARABIA is a modern myth. The subject of more than 100 books, several of them full-length biographies, Lawrence is best remembered from David Lean's 1962 epic film, which did much to burnish his heroic reputation, albeit at the expense of strict historical accuracy. T.E. Lawrence was, and remains, a controversial, contradictory character, both warlike and scholarly, vain and modest, part showman, part hermit; he was ambitious yet racked with self-doubt and guilt. Michael Korda's magnificent new biography examines anew the man Jan Morris has called a “confused and enigmatic exhibitionist”.

Mr Korda blows away the preconceptions that cloud much of the existing literature on Lawrence. He tells the story of Lawrence's early life, of his illegitimacy and his difficult relationship with his mother, without the flights of psychoanalytical speculation that have plagued some previous studies of the man.

The heart of the book is devoted to Lawrence's role in the Arab revolt of 1916-18, the origin of his romantically heroic reputation. Mr Korda deals even-handedly with Lawrence's role, demonstrating that, although he was not solely responsible for the revolt, his remarkable leadership, courage and physical endurance gave the campaign vital cohesion and impetus. Lawrence, an academic without formal military training, displayed an astonishing grasp of both regular and irregular military tactics. His campaign with the camel-mounted Bedouin tribesmen against the Turks was a masterful exposition of the principles of guerrilla warfare. The tribesmen attacked the enemy with small, highly mobile units, forcing it to defend itself along a huge front. Likewise, Lawrence became a master of the set-piece engagement—albeit on a small scale—as his victory over the Turkish army at Tafileh in January 1918 so amply demonstrated.

Once the war was over, Lawrence continued the struggle for an independent Arab state at the Versailles conference. His aspirations foundered on the rocks of British and French colonial ambition, notably the twin reefs of the notorious Sykes-Picot agreement of 1916 and the Balfour Declaration of 1917. Mr Korda argues that Lawrence was “partly responsible” for the formation of modern Iraq and Jordan and played a substantial role in “the creation of Palestine as a separate entity”. This salved his conscience for having encouraged the Arab revolt, but it is also his legacy to the present.

A central strand of the Lawrentian myth was his decision in 1922, at the height of his fame, to enlist under an assumed name as a lowly aircraftman in the Royal Air Force (RAF), where he remained almost until his death in a motorcycle accident in 1935. Lawrence's reputation and apparently irresistible newsworthiness were a constant embarrassment to the RAF. At one point he was posted to India for two years to remove him from the limelight.

Mr Korda is especially good on this last phase of Lawrence's life, when despite his desire for humdrum anonymity he was unable to bring himself wholly to sever the links with his former life. Thus he would arrive on his motorcycle at the grandest houses in the uniform of an RAF rank-and-filer and nurture his friendships with the powerful and famous, including Winston Churchill and George Bernard Shaw. The breadth of his friendships is testament to Lawrence's compulsive, almost hypnotic allure. Mr Korda also deals interestingly with the convoluted genesis of Lawrence's great book, “Seven Pillars of Wisdom”, which reveals much of its author's contradictory, even contrary, motivations.

Mr Korda's prose skips along through 700 pages but he cannot resist the biographer's twitch of making pointless, speculative claims for his subject. Thus the reader is told that on a visit to Egypt in 1912 Lawrence “may be the only visitor to pass through Cairo without bothering to see the Pyramids”. Likewise, Mr Korda asserts that Lawrence “may have been the only person in 20th-century Britain who was just as much at ease with King George V as with a hut full of RAF recruits”. This apart, “Hero” is a wonderfully intelligent, sweeping and highly readable account of the life and achievements of one of Britain's most glamorous yet complex and mysterious colonial buccaneers.