THE TRUE METROPOLIS--MECCA.
In the last chapter the position of the Ottoman Sultans towards the mass
of Orthodox Islam was sketched, and the foundations were shown on which
their tenure of the Caliphal title rested. These I explained to be
neither very ancient nor very securely laid in the faith and affections
of the faithful; and, though at the present moment a certain reaction in
favour of Constantinople had set in, it was due to accidental
circumstances, which are unlikely to become permanent, and was very far
indeed from being universal. It may be as well to recapitulate the
position.
The Sunite or Orthodox Mohammedan world holds it as a dogma of faith
that there must be a Khalifeh, the ex-officio head of their religious
polity, and the successor of their prophet. In temporal matters, whoever
holds this office is theoretically king of all Islam; and in spiritual
matters he is their supreme religious authority. But, practically, the
Caliph's temporal jurisdiction has for many centuries been limited to
such lands as he could hold by arms; while in spiritual matters he has
exercised no direct authority whatever. Nevertheless, he represents to
Mussulmans something of which they are in need, and which they are bound
to respect; and it cannot be doubted that in proper hands, and at the
proper moment, the Caliphate might once more become an instrument for
good or evil of almost universal power in Islam. Even now, were there to
be an apprehension of general and overwhelming danger for religion, it
is to the Caliph that the faithful would look to defend their interests;
and, as we have seen, a moderate show of piety and respect for the
sacred law has been sufficient, in spite of a violent political
opposition, to secure for the actual holder of the title a degree of
sympathy which no other Mussulman prince could at any cost of good
government have obtained.
On the other hand, it has been shown that the loyalty, such as there is,
which Abd el Hamid inspires is due to him solely as incumbent of the
Caliphal office, and not as the representative of any race or dynasty.
The House of Othman, as such, represents nothing sacred to Mussulmans;
and the Turkish race is very far from being respected in Islam. The
present Caliphal house is unconnected in blood with the old traditional
line of "successors;" and even with the Turks themselves inspires little
modern reverence. Moreover, the actual incumbent of the office is
thought to be not even a true Ottoman, being the offspring of the
Seraglio rather than of known parents; Abd el Hamid's sole title to
spiritual consideration is his official name. This he has had the sense
to set prominently forward. Reduced to a syllogism, Mussulman loyalty
may be read thus: There must be a Caliph, and the Caliphate deserves
respect; there is no other Caliph but Abd el Hamid; ergo, Abd el Hamid
deserves respect.
It has been pointed out, however, that, if the Sultan's recent revival
of spiritual pretensions is his present strength, it may also in the
immediate future become his weakness. The challenge which the
Constantinople school of Hanefism threw down ten years ago to the world
has been taken up; and all the learned world now knows the frailty of
the House of Othman's spiritual position. The true history of the
Caliphate has been published and set side by side with that Turkish
history which the ignorance of a previous generation had come to
confound with it. At the present day nobody with any instruction doubts
that Abd el Hamid and his house might be legally displaced by the first
successful rival, and that the only right of Constantinople to lead
Islam is the right of the sword. As long as the Ottoman Empire is
maintained and no counter Caliph appears, so long will the Sultan be the
acknowledged head of religion; but not a day longer. The Caliphate, for
one alien as Abd el Hamid is to the Koreysh, must be constantly
maintained in arms, and on the first substantial success of a new
pretender his present following would fall off from him without
compunction, transferring to this last their loyalty on precisely the
same ground on which Abd el Hamid now receives it. Abd el Hamid would
then be legitimately deposed and disappear, for it is unlikely that he
would find any such protector in his adversity as the legitimate Caliphs
found in theirs six hundred years ago. So fully is this state of things
recognized by the Ulema, that I found the opinion last year to be nearly
universal that Abd el Hamid was destined to be the last Caliph of the
House of Othman.
It becomes, therefore, a question of extreme interest to consider who
among Mussulman princes could, with any chance of being generally
accepted by orthodox Islam, put in a claim to replace the Ottoman
dynasty as Caliph when the day of its doom shall have been reached. It
is a question which ought certainly to interest Englishmen, for on its
solution the whole problem of Mussulman loyalty or revolt in India most
probably depends, and though it would certainly be unwise, at the
present moment, for an English Government to obtrude itself violently in
a religious quarrel not yet ripe, much might be done in a perfectly
legitimate way to influence the natural course of events and direct it
to a channel favourable to British interests.
Is there then in Islam, east, or west, or south, a man of sufficient
eminence and courage to proclaim himself Caliph, in the event of Abd el
Hamid's political collapse or death? What would be his line of action to
secure Mahommedan acceptance? Where should he fix his capital, and on
what arms should he rely? Whose flag should he display? Above all--for
this is the question that interests us most--could such a change of
rulers affect favourably the future thought and life of Islam, and lead
to an honest Moslem reformation? These questions, which are being
cautiously asked of each other by thoughtful Mussulmans in every corner
of the east, I now propose to consider and, as far as it is in my power,
to answer.
I have said that Islam is already well prepared for change. Whatever
Europeans may think of a future for the Ottoman Empire, Mussulmans are
profoundly convinced that on its present basis it will not long survive.
Even in Turkey, the thought of its political regeneration as an European
Empire has been at last abandoned, and no one now contemplates more than
a few years further tenure of the Bosphorus. Twenty years ago it was not
so, nor perhaps five, but to-day all are resigned to this.
Ancient prophecy and modern superstition alike point to a return of the
Crescent into Asia as an event at hand, and to the doom of the Turks as
a race which has corrupted Islam. A well-known prediction to this
effect, which has for ages exercised its influence on the vulgar and
even the learned Mohammedan mind, gives the year 1883 of our era as the
term within which these things are to be accomplished, and places the
scene of the last struggle in Northern Syria, at Homs, on the Orontes.
Islam is then finally to retire from the north, and the Turkish rule to
cease. Such prophecies often work their own fulfilment, and the feeling
of a coming catastrophe is so deeply rooted and so universal that I
question whether the proclamation of a Jehad by the Sultan would now
induce a thousand Moslems to fight voluntarily against the Cross in
Europe.
The Sultan himself and the old Turkish party which supports him, while
clinging obstinately in appearance to all their ground, really have
their eyes turned elsewhere than on Adrianople and Salonica and the city
of the Roman Emperors. It is unlikely that a new advance of the
Christian Powers from the Balkan would meet again with more than formal
opposition; and Constantinople itself, unsupported by European aid,
would be abandoned without a blow, or with only such show of resistance
as the Sheriat requires for a cession of territory.[14] The Sultan
would, in such an event, pass into Asia, and I have been credibly
informed that his own plan is to make not Broussa, but Bagdad or
Damascus his capital. This he considers would be more in conformity with
Caliphal traditions, and the Caliphate would gain strength by a return
to its old centres. Damascus is surnamed by theologians _Bab el Kaaba_,
Gate of the Caaba; and there or at Bagdad, the traditional city of the
Caliphs, he would build up once more a purely theocratic empire.
Such, they say, is his thought; and such doubtless would be the empire
of the future that Mussulmans would choose. Only it is improbable that
it would continue to be in any sense Ottoman, or that Abd el Hamid would
have the opportunity of himself establishing it. The loss of
Constantinople would be a blow to his prestige he could not well recover
from, and no new empire ever yet was founded on defeat. What is far more
likely to happen is that, in such an event, Abd el Hamid and his house
would disappear, and an entirely new order of Caliphal succession take
their place. Even without supposing any such convulsion to the empire as
a loss of the Bosphorus, his reign will hardly be a long one. The Ulema
of Constantinople are by no means all on his side, and the party of
"Young Turkey," cowed for the moment by the terrorism which there
prevails, is his bitter enemy, and will not let him rest. It will
infallibly on the next danger from Europe, show its head again and take
its revenge.
It is said to be the programme of this party, when it next comes to
power, to separate the spiritual functions of the Caliphate from those
of the head of the State, copying, in so far, the modern practice of
Europe towards the Papacy. I suppose that it would be attempted to
restore that state of things, which as we have already seen, existed at
Cairo in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; and it is just
conceivable that, as far as Turkey itself was concerned, such an
arrangement might, for a time, succeed. There would then be two powers
at Constantinople, a Maire du Palais who would reign, and a Caliph who
would be head of religion;--a separation of offices which would
certainly facilitate the sort of reform that Midhat and his friends
desire. But to the world at large the event would only signify that
Constantinople had formally abdicated her claim to leadership, and Islam
would never acknowledge as Caliph the mere puppet of an irreligious
clique of officials, because he happened to be a member of the Beni
Othman. His political power is the only thing that reconciles Islam with
an Ottoman Caliph, and without sovereignty he would be discarded. In
whatever way, therefore, that we look at it, there seems justification
in probability for the conviction already cited that after Abd el Hamid
a new order of Caliphal succession will be seen.
It seems to be an universal opinion at the present day among those who
think at all upon the matter, that whatever change may be impending for
Islam, it will be in the direction of concentration rather than of
extension. All parties see that the day of outside conquest is at an
end, and that the utmost that Islam can look forward to politically is
the maintenance of its present positions, and as an extreme possibility
the emancipation of its lost provinces in India and North Africa from
Christian rule. There is, therefore, a conviction that the removal of
the seat of supreme authority, when made, will be towards the centre,
not to any new extremity of Islam. Constantinople, even if all Islam
were combined for its defence, is felt to be too near the infidel
frontier to be safe, and cosmopolitan city as it has become, it is by
many looked upon itself as infidel. A position further removed from
danger and more purely Mohammedan is the necessity of the day; and it
can hardly be doubted that, when the time comes, the possession of some
such vantage ground will be recognized as a first qualification with
whoever shall assume the leadership of Islam.
We have seen that Abd el Hamid dreams of Damascus or Bagdad. But others
dream of Cairo as the new seat of the Caliphate; and to the majority of
far-sighted Mussulmans it is rapidly becoming apparent that the retreat,
once begun, must be conducted further still, and that the only true
resting-place for theocracy is in Arabia, its birthplace and the
fountain head of its inspiration. There, alone in the world, all the
conditions for the independent exercise of religious sovereignty are to
be found. In Arabia there are neither Christians nor Jews nor infidels
of any sort for Islam to count with, nor is it so rich a possession that
it should ever excite the cupidity of the Western Powers. A Caliph there
need fear no admonition from Frank ambassadors in virtue of any
capitulations; he would be free to act as the Successor of the Apostle
should, and would breathe the pure air of an unadulterated Islam. A
return, therefore, to Medina or Mecca is the probable future of the
Caliphate.
The importance of Arabia has of late years been fully recognized both at
Constantinople and elsewhere. It has been the sustained policy of Abd
el Hamid at all cost and by whatsoever means to maintain his influence
there; and he knows that without it his spiritual pretensions could have
no secure foundations. Arabia, he perceives, is the main point of the
Caliphal problem; and whether or not the future holder of the office
reside in Hejaz, it is certain that by its tenure alone the Mohammedan
world will judge of his right to be their leader. It will, therefore,
before we go further, be interesting to examine the relations existing
in the past and present between Mecca and the Caliphate, and to
ascertain the position now held by Abd el Hamid in Arabia. On this point
I believe that I can offer information which will be both valuable and
new.
The political constitution of the Moslem Holy Land is one of the most
anomalous in the world. Like every district of Arabia proper, Hejaz has
a town and a nomad population, but almost no intermediate agricultural
class. The townsmen I have already described--a multitude of mixed
origin, descended from such pilgrims as from every quarter of the globe
have visited the Holy Places, and have remained to marry and die in
them. The Nomads, on the contrary, are a pure race of a peculiarly noble
type, and unchanged in any essential feature of their life from what
they were in the days of Mohammed. They are warlike, unquiet, Bedouins,
camel-riders (for they have no horses), and armed with matchlocks; and
they are proud of their independence, and tenacious of their rights. No
serious attempt has ever been made, except by Mehemet Ali, to subdue
them, and none at all has succeeded. Unlike the generality of Peninsular
Bedouins, however, they are professed Sunite Mohammedans, if not of a
very pious type; and they acknowledge as their chief the head of their
most noble tribe, the Grand Sherif of the Koreysh, who is also Prince of
Mecca.
The Koreysh is still a distinct nomadic tribe, inhabiting the immediate
neighbourhood of Mecca; not numerous, but not in decay. They are divided
into several sections, each governed by its Sheykh, the chief of which,
the Abadleh, has for several centuries supplied the reigning family of
Hejaz. This last traces its descent from Ali ibn Abutaleb, the fourth
Caliph, through his son Hassan, and through Ali's wife, Fatmeh, from
Mohammed himself. It is probably the oldest authentic male descent in
the world, and certainly the most sacred. All the members of this
Abadleh family enjoy the title of Sherif, the head of it only being
distinguished as the Sherif el Kebir, the Great or Grand Sherif. The
rest of the Koreysh, not being descended from Fatmeh, do not receive the
title. All alike wear the Bedouin dress of abba and kefiyeh, even the
Prince himself, standing in this strikingly in contrast with the Hejazi
citizens, who affect the turban and gombaz.
The district of Medina is occupied by the Harb Bedouins, a larger and
more powerful tribe than the Koreysh, who also recognize the Sherif, but
their allegiance is precarious; while to the east and south of Mecca the
Ateybeh and Assir, more powerful still, are wholly independent. It has
always been a difficult matter to keep these unruly elements at peace
with each other and with the citizens, nor could the Sherif hope to
effect it were he not himself of Bedouin and noble blood.
The early history of the Sherifate is exceedingly obscure. When the
Caliphs definitely abandoned Medina as their capital in the fortieth
year of Islam (A.D. 662), they for a time left deputies of the Sherifal
family behind them to govern in their name, and, as long as the Ommiad
and Abbaside dynasties continued at Damascus and Bagdad, their
sovereignty was acknowledged in Hejaz. But on the destruction of the
Arabian Caliphate in 1259, the Sherifal family seems to have set itself
up independently, relying only on the casual help of the Egyptian
Sultans and the Imams of Sana to protect them against the Bedouins of
Nejd and Assir, now hardly any longer, even in name, Mohammedans. The
Egyptian Sultan, however, was the titular protector of the Holy Places,
and it was he who transmitted the Surrah, or religious contributions
made by the Faithful, and provided escort for the yearly pilgrimage made
to the shrines. Thus we read of Kaïd Beg having rebuilt the Mosque of
Medina in 1476, and having sent a yearly subsidy of 7500 ardebs of corn
for the townspeople. Other princes, however, contributed their offerings
too, and received titles of honour connected with the Holy Land, the
Shahs of Persia, the Moguls, and the Ottomans. The first connection of
the latter with Mecca that I can find was in 1413, when the Padishah
Mohammed Khan I., having sent a surrah, or bag of gold, to the Sherif to
be distributed in alms, received from him the title of Khaddam el
Harameyn, servant of the two shrines; and the gift being continued
annually by the Ottoman Padishahs may very likely have paved the way to
their recognition later as Caliphs.
It would seem singular at first sight that the Sherifs, being
themselves of the sacred family whose special inheritance the Caliphate
was, should ever thus have recognized a stranger as its legal heir. But
the political weakness of the Meccan Government in the sixteenth century
must be taken into account as the all-sufficient reason. The Grand
Sherif could hardly have stood alone as an independent sovereign, for he
was continually menaced on the one side by the dissenting Omani, and on
the other by the unbelieving tribes of Nejd, against whom his frontier
was defenceless. He could not, with his own resources, protect the
pilgrim routes from plunder--and on the pilgrimage all the prosperity of
Hejaz depended. It therefore was a necessity with the Meccans to have a
protector of some sort; and Sultan Kansaw having fallen, they accepted
Sultan Selim.
The Ottoman Sultans then became protectors of the Holy Places, and were
acknowledged Caliphs without any appeal to arms at Mecca and Medina.
Their weapons were, in fact, the gold and silver pieces with which they
subsidized the Sherifs. Sultan Selim at once, on being acknowledged,
ordered an additional annuity of 5000 ardebs to be paid to Mecca, and he
and his immediate successors carried out at their own expense such
public works as the shrines required in the way of repairs or
improvements. Subsequently the seaport of Jeddah, formerly occupied by
the Egyptians, received a Turkish contingent, but the interior of Hejaz
was never subjugated, nor was any tax at any time levied. Only once a
year an Ottoman army appeared before the walls of Medina, conducting the
pilgrims from Damascus and convoying the surrah. The state of things at
Mecca in the last century has been clearly sketched by Niebuhr. The
Sherifs were in reality independent princes, but they "gratified the
vanity of the Grand Signior" by calling him their suzerain, he on his
side occasionally exercising the right of power by deposing the reigning
Sherif and appointing another of the same family. No kind of
administration had then been attempted by the Turks in Hejaz.
Mehemet Ali's occupation of Hejaz in 1812 first brought foreign troops
inland. He established himself at Taïf, the summer residence of the
Meccans; deposed the Grand Sherif Ghaleb, and appointed in his stead
another member of the Sherifal family; declaring the Sultan sovereign of
the country--acts which the Meccans acquiesced in through dread of the
Wahhabis, from whom Mehemet Ali promised to deliver them. The Egyptian
and Turkish Governments have thus, during the present century, exercised
some of the functions of sovereignty in Hejaz.
At the present moment Sultan Abd el Hamid's position in the country is
this. His troops occupy Jeddah and Yembo, the two seaports, and the
towns of Medina and Taïf in the interior. He is acknowledged by the
Sherifs as sovereign, except in Mecca; and he appoints to all the
principal offices of State, including the supreme office of the Grand
Sherifate itself. He is represented by a Pasha who resides alternately
at Jeddah and Taïf according to the season, but who has not the right of
entering Mecca without the Grand Sherif's leave, or of sending troops
there. The total garrison of the Turks in Hejaz last winter was from
8000 to 10,000 men, of whom 4000 only were regulars (Nizams), and
efficient. While I was at Jeddah, the Medina garrison of 2000 regulars,
having been long unpaid and unrationed, was said to be living on public
charity. On the other hand the Hejazi Bedouins do not acknowledge any
sovereignty but that of the Sherif, nor could the Sultan pretend to keep
order outside the towns except through the Sherif's interposition. The
Sultan levies no tax in the interior or impost of any kind, and the sole
revenue he receives in Hejaz comes from Customs duties of Jeddah and
Yembo, which may amount to £40,000.
In return for this he also is bound to transmit every year at the time
of the pilgrimage sums of money collected by him from the revenues of
the Wakaf within his dominions, lands settled by pious persons on the
Sherifal family. These are said to amount to nearly half a million
sterling, and are distributed amongst all the principal personages of
Hejaz. The transmission of the Wakaf income, in which the Sultan
constitutes himself, so to say, the Sherif's agent, is in fact the real
bond which unites Hejaz with the Caliphate, and its distribution gives
the Sultan patronage, and with it power in the country. The bond,
however, is one of interest only. The Sherifs, proud of their sacred
ancestry, look upon the Turkish Caliphs as barbarians and impostors,
while the Sultans find the Hejaz a heavy charge upon their revenue.
Either hates and despises the other, the patron and the patronized; and,
save that their union is a necessity, it would long ago have, by mutual
consent, been dissolved. The Sherif depends upon the Sultan because he
needs a protector, and needs his Wakaf. The Sultan depends upon the
Sherif, because recognition by Hejaz as the protector is a chief title
to his Caliphate. Mecca, in fact, is a necessity to Islam even more than
a Caliph; and whoever is sovereign there is naturally sovereign of the
Mussulman world.
Outside Hejaz the Sultan holds what he holds of Arabia merely by force.
I have described already the growing power of Ibn Rashid, the Prince of
Nejd; and since that time, two years ago, he has sensibly extended and
confirmed his influence there. He has now brought into his alliance all
the important tribes of northern Arabia, including the powerful Ateybeh,
who, a few months ago, were threatening Mecca; and in Hejaz his name is
already as potent as the Sultan's. He offered, while I was at Jeddah, to
undertake the whole convoy of the Damascus pilgrimage with his own
troops, as already he convoys that from Persia; while I have quite
recent information of a campaign against his own rivals, the Ibn Saouds,
which he has just brought to a successful conclusion. In Yemen, the
other neighbour of the Meccans, 20,000 Turkish troops are required to
garrison the few towns the Sultan calls his own, and were it not for
the facility given him by the possession of the sea-coast, these could
not long hope to hold their ground. Every day I am expecting news from
there of a revolt, and the first sign of weakness at Constantinople will
certainly precipitate a war of independence in that part of Arabia.
We may expect, therefore, in the event of such a break-up as I have
suggested to be likely of the Ottoman power--either through loss of
territory or by the growing impoverishment of the empire, which needs
must, in a few decades, end in atrophy--to see among Mussulman princes a
competition for the right of protecting the Holy Places, and with it of
inheriting the Caliphal title. The Sultan reduced to Asia Minor, even if
he retain Armenia and Kurdistan (which is extremely improbable), would
be quite unable to afford himself the expensive luxury of holding his
Arabian conquests and buying the patronage of Mecca. He would be unable
any longer to overawe the Red Sea, or secure the pilgrim routes. The
Princes of Nejd would certainly not tolerate the presence of Turkish
soldiers at Medina, and the Sherifs of Mecca would have to make terms
with them and with the restored Imams of Yemen till such time as they
should find a new protector elsewhere. Above all, the half million of
Wakaf income would no longer be forthcoming, and a Turkish Emir el Haj
arriving empty-handed at Mecca would bring his master to a climax of
derision. Hejaz then would infallibly look out for a new potentate whom
she could dignify with the title of Hami el Harameyn and Emir el
Mumenin; and if there were none forthcoming would herself proclaim a
Caliphate. Let us look, therefore, at the lands of Islam to see in which
of them a competent Prince of the Faithful is likely to appear.
It is possible, though to European eyes it will seem far from probable,
that out of the ferment which we are now witnessing in the Barbary
States, some leader of real power and religious distinction may arise
who shall possess the talent of banding together into an instrument of
power the immense but scattered forces of Islam in Northern Africa, and
after achieving some signal success against the new French policy,
establish himself in Tripoli or Tunis in independent sovereignty. Were
such another man as Abd el Kader to arise, a saint, a preacher, and a
soldier, indifferent to the petty aims of local power and gifted with
military genius, true piety, and an eloquent tongue, I believe at the
present day he might achieve at least a partial success.
The French army is weak in discipline and confidence compared to what
it was in Abd el Kader's day, and it has a far more difficult frontier
to defend; while the Government at home is but half resolute, and the
Arabs command much floating sympathy in Europe and elsewhere. I do not
say the thing is likely, but it is conceivable; and Africa contains the
elements of a possible new sovereignty for some Mussulman prince which
might eventually lead him on the road to Mecca. It is undoubted that
with the prestige of success against a Christian Power, and backed by
the vast populations of Soudan and the fierce military fervour of the
Malekite Arabs, an Abd el Kader or an Abd-el-Wahhab would attract the
sympathy of Islam, and might aspire to its highest dignity. But enormous
postulates must be granted before we can look on any one now known to
fame in Africa as a probable candidate for the future Caliphate.
The present leaders of the Arabs are but local heroes, and as yet they
have achieved nothing which can command respect. In Tripoli there is
indeed a saint of very high pretensions, one known as the Sheykh Es
Snusi, who has a large religious following, and who has promised to come
forward shortly as the Móhdy or guide expected by a large section of
the Sunite as well as the Shiite Mussulmans. Next year he will attain
the age of forty (the legal age of a prophet), and he may be expected to
take a prominent part in any general movement that may then be on foot.
But as yet we know nothing of him but his name and the fact of his
sanctity, which is of Wahhabite type. Moreover, even supposing all that
may be supposed of a possible success, there yet lies Egypt and the Suez
Canal between the Barbary State and Mecca, so that I think we may be
justified in these days of steam fleets and electric cables and European
concerts, if we treat North Western Africa as out of probable
calculations in considering the future of the Caliphate. It is
remarkable that the Sultan of Morocco has taken as yet no apparent part
in the religious movement of modern Barbary.
The Mussulman princes of India hold a very similar position. Opposed as
they soon may be, indeed must be if the unintelligent English policy of
the last twenty years be persevered in, to an European Government in
arms, they will have the chance of making themselves a leading position
in the eyes of Islam; and should a Mohammedan empire arise once more at
Delhi or Hyderabad, India would certainly become _par excellence_ the
Dar el Islam. It would then be by far the richest and most populous of
Mohammedan states, and able to outbid any other with the surrah it could
send to Mecca.
The Wakaf property in India at the present day is supposed to be as
valuable as that in the Ottoman empire, and it would then become a
source of patronage with the Government, instead of being privately
remitted as now. If money alone could buy the Caliphate, a successful
leader of revolt against the English in India might dictate his terms to
Islam. But again the insuperable obstacle intervenes of distance and the
sea. Mussulman India could never give that protection to Mecca that
Islam needs, and could not assert its sovereignty anywhere but at home,
in arms. Even this is assuming, as in the case of Barbary, an enormous
postulate--success.
Neither India, then, nor Western Africa can reasonably be expected to
supply that substitute for the House of Othman which we need. A more
apparent and in the opinion of some a likely candidate for the Caliphate
succession may be looked for in the Viceregal family of Egypt. Mohammed
Towfik, if he were a man of genius like his grandfather, or if, honest
man as he is, he plays his cards with success, might in a few years
become an important rival at Mecca to the Sultan. To say nothing of its
traditional connection with the Caliphate, Egypt has the more modern
recollection of Mehemet Ali to urge upon the Hejazi in its favour as the
protecting State of Islam.
Mehemet Ali's name and that of his successor Ibrahim Pasha, if not
precisely popular, are at least respected at Mecca; and the latter
possesses a great title to Sunite gratitude in having destroyed the
Wahhabite empire in 1818. I have mentioned Mehemet Ali's ambition; and a
similar ambition would seem to have occurred to Ismaïl, the late
Khedive. He, in the plenitude of his financial power, is stated to have
expended large sums of money in subsidising the Sherifs with a view to
possible contingencies at Constantinople. But unfortunately for him the
opening of the Suez Canal, on which he had counted for securing him the
support of Europe, proved the precise instrument of ruin for his scheme.
The Porte in 1871, scenting danger to its own Caliphal pretensions from
this quarter, occupied the Red Sea in force, reinforced its garrisons in
Jeddah and Yembo, advanced to Taïf, and threw a large army into Yemen.
This was alone made possible by the Canal, and Ismaïl to his chagrin
found himself "hoist with his own petard." Mohammed Towfik, therefore,
would have some excuse in family tradition if he indulged occasionally
in dreams of a similar nature. His connection with Mecca is at the
present day second only to that of Constantinople; the Egyptian
Khedivieh line of steamers ply constantly between Suez and Jeddah; and
the Haj the Khedive sends to Mecca, including as it does most of the
Mogrebbin pilgrims, is more numerous than the Sultan's. He maintains
intimate relations with one at least of the great Sherifal families, and
sends a Mahmal yearly with an important surrah to Medina. Mohammed
Towfik also has the deserved reputation of being a sincere Mussulman and
an honest man, and it is certain that a large section of true liberal
opinion looks to him as the worthiest supporter of its views. With all
this I doubt if he be big enough a man to aspire as yet with success to
Abd el Hamid's succession.
The present Viceroy's financial position, though we may hope sounder in
its base, is not so immediately powerful as his father's; and much ready
money will be required by an aspirant to the Caliphate. His fighting
power, too, is small, and he would have to proclaim himself in arms.
Moreover--and this I fear will remain an insuperable difficulty--he is
hampered with the control of Europe. Islam would hardly obey another
Caliph who was himself obedient to Christendom; and the same causes
which have ruined the House of Othman, would also ruin him. A Caliph, as
things stand, cannot legally govern, except by the old canon law of the
Sheriat, and though a lapsus from strict observance may be tolerated in
an ordinary prince, or even in a well established Caliph, a new Caliph
putting forward a new claim would be more strictly bound. How could
Mohammed Towfik's necessity to Islam be reconciled to his necessity to
Europe? Between the two stools he hardly could avert a fall.[15]
Unless, then, some unexpected religious hero should appear in Eastern
Asia, of which as yet there is no sign, we are driven to Arabia for a
solution of the difficulty where to establish a Mussulman theocracy, and
to the Sherifal family of Mecca itself for a new dynasty.
The family of the Sherifs has this vast advantage over any other
possible competitor to the supreme title of Islam, that it is of the
acknowledged blood of that tribe of Koreysh which Mohammed himself
designated as his heirs. Amongst many other passages of authority which
bear upon the rights of the Koreysh the following seem to me the most
explicit and the best worth quoting: "The prophet," says a tradition of
Omm Hani, daughter of Abutaleb, "exalted the Koreysh by conferring on
them seven prerogatives: the first, the _Nebbuwat_ (the fact that they
had given birth to a prophet); the second, the _Khalafat_ (the
succession); the third, the _Hejabat_ (the guardianship of the Kaaba);
the fourth, the _Sikayat_ (the right of supplying water to the Haj); the
fifth, the _Refadat_ (the right of entertaining the Haj); the sixth, the
_Nedwat_ (the right of counsel, government); and the seventh, the _Lewa_
(possession of the banner, with the right of proclaiming war)." The
prophet also, according to another tradition, said, "As long as there
remains one man of the Koreysh, so long shall that man be my successor;"
and as to the Arab race, "If the Arab race falls Islam shall fall." All
the world knows these things, and to the popular mind, especially, the
Sherif is already far more truly the representative of spiritual rank
than any Sultan or Caliph is.
The vast populations of Southern and Eastern Asia send out their
pilgrims, not to Constantinople but to Mecca, and it is the Sherif whom
they find there supreme. The Turkish Government in Hejaz holds a
comparatively insignificant position, and the Sultan's representative at
Jeddah is hardly more than servant to the Prince of Mecca. It is he who
is the descendant of their prophet, not the other, and though the
learned may make distinctions in favour of the Caliph the Haj only hears
of the Sherif. Even at Constantinople, by immemorial custom, the Sultan
rises to receive members of the sacred family; and at Mecca it is
commonly said that should a Sultan make the Haj in person he would be
received by the Grand Sherif as an inferior. The Sherifal family, then,
is surrounded with a halo of religious prestige which would make their
acquisition of the supreme temporal title appear natural to all but the
races who have been in subjection to the Ottomans; and were a man of
real ability to appear amongst them he would, in the crisis we have
foreseen, be sure to find an almost universal following.
That the Ottoman Government is perfectly aware of this is certain. Even
in the days of its greatest power it always showed its jealousy and
distrust of Mecca, and was careful when any of the Grand Sherifs
acquired what was considered dangerous influence, to supplant him by
setting up a rival. Its physical power enabled it to do this, and though
it could not abolish the office of the Grand Sherifate, it could
interfere in the order of succession. Family feuds have, therefore, been
at all times fostered by the Turks in Hejaz, and will be, as long as
their presence there is tolerated. An excellent example of their system
has recently been given in the episode of the late Grand Sherif's death,
and the story of it will serve also to show the fear entertained by the
present Sultan of this his great spiritual rival. To tell it properly I
must go back to the epoch of the Wahhabite invasion of Hejaz in 1808.
At that time, and for the latter half of the previous century, the
supreme dignity of the Sherifal House was held by a branch of it known
as the Dewy Zeyd (the word _Dewy_ is used in Hejaz, as are elsewhere
_Beni_ or _Ahl_, meaning _people_, _family_, _house_), which had
replaced in 1750 the Barakat branch, mentioned by Niebuhr as in his day
supreme. The actual holder of the title was Ghaleb ibn Mesaad, and he,
finding himself unable to contend against the Wahhabis, became himself a
Wahhabi. Consequently, when Mehemet Ali appeared at Mecca in 1812, his
first act was to depose this Ghaleb, in spite of his protest that he had
returned to orthodoxy, and to appoint another member of the Sherifal
House in his place.
The Sherif chosen was Yahia ibn Serur, of a rival branch, the Dewy Aoun,
and a bitter animosity was, by this means, engendered between the two
families of Aoun and Zeyd, which is continued to the present day. Nor,
as may be supposed, was this lessened by the subsequent changes rung by
the Turkish and Egyptian Governments in their appointments to the
office, for, in 1827, we find Abd el Mutalleb, the son of the deposed
Wahhabite Ghaleb, reappointed, and in the following year again,
Mohammed, the son of Yahia ibn Aoun, an intrigue which brought on a
civil war. Then in 1848 a new intrigue reinstated Abd el Mutalleb and
the Zeyds; and then, in 1853, these were again deposed for rebellion,
and an Aoun was placed in power. From 1853 till 1880 the Aouns retained
the Grand Sherifate and were supreme in Hejaz. Coming into power at a
time when Liberal ideas were in the ascendant they have consistently
been Liberal, and still represent the more humane and progressive party
among the Meccans. In the desert, where all are latitudinarian, they are
the popular party; and, though themselves beyond a suspicion of
unorthodoxy, they have always shown a tolerant spirit towards the Shiahs
and other heretics, with whom the Sherifal authority necessarily comes
in contact every year at the Haj. They have even maintained friendly
terms with the European element at Jeddah, and as long as they remained
in power the relations between India and Mecca were of an amicable
nature.
Abdallah ibn Aoun, the son of Mohammed, who succeeded his father in
1858, and reigned for nineteen years, was a man of considerable ability,
and he is credited with having had views of so advanced a nature as to
include the opening of Hejaz to European trade. Nor was his brother, who
in 1877 became Grand Sherif, of a less liberal mind. Though of less
ability than Abdallah, he is described as eminently humane and virtuous,
and it is certain that, with the exception of his hereditary enemies,
the Zeyds, he was universally beloved by the Hejazi. So much was this
the case that, in the year following the disastrous Russian war, when
Constantinople seemed on the point of dissolution, the Arabs began to
talk openly of making El Husseyn ibn Aoun Caliph in the Sultan's place.
I have not been able to ascertain that El Husseyn himself indulged the
ambitious project of his friends, for he was eminently a man of peace,
and the Caliphal title would hardly have given him a higher position
than he held. But it is certain that his popularity gave umbrage at
Constantinople, the more so as Abd el Hamid could not and dared not
depose him. El Husseyn, too, became specially obnoxious to the
reactionary party, when it resolved at last to quarrel with England, for
he and his family persisted in remaining on friendly terms with the
British Government on all occasions when the interests of Indian
subjects of her Majesty's came in question at the Haj. For this reason,
principally, it would seem his death was resolved on to make room for
the agent of a new policy.
On the 14th of March, 1880, Jeddah was the scene of a solemn pageant.
The Haj was just over, and the seaport of Mecca crowded with pilgrims
was waiting for the Grand Sherif, the descendant of the prophet and the
representative of the Sacred House of Ali, to give the blessing of his
presence to the last departing votaries. Travelling by night from Mecca,
El Husseyn and his retinue appeared at dawn outside the city walls, and
when it was morning, mounted on a white mare from Nejd, and preceded by
his escort of Koreysh Arabs and the Sultan's guard of honour, he rode
into the town. The streets of Jeddah are narrow and tortuous, and the
way from the gate to the house of Omar Nassif, his agent, where he was
accustomed to alight, was thronged with pious folk, who struggled for
the privilege of kissing his feet and the hem of his Arab cloak. He had
nearly reached the place when an old beggar from the crowd pushed his
way forward asking loudly for alms in the name of God. It was an appeal
not to be denied, and as the Sherif turned to those near him to order a
contribution from the bag kept for such distributions, the old man rose
upon him, and drawing a ragged knife (so it was described to me) struck
him in the belly. At first, even those who saw the deed hardly knew what
had happened, for El Husseyn did not fall or dismount, and without
speaking rode on to the house. There he was lifted from his mare and
carried to an upper chamber, and in the course of some hours he expired.
Those nearest him, meanwhile, had seized and cudgelled the old man, and
some of the escort had taken him to the guard-house. When it became
known what had happened, a great cry arose in Jeddah, and old and young,
and women and children, and citizens and strangers wept together. I have
heard the scene described as one beyond description moving, and the
women shrieked and wailed the whole night long. El Husseyn was beloved,
and he was taken in the flower of his manhood.
No satisfactory judicial investigation seems to have been made of the
deed, though a formal mejlis was held at Mecca whither the assassin was
immediately transferred, and on the fourth day he was publicly executed.
Who and what he was it is difficult to determine. The Turkish bulletin
on the event described him as a Persian fanatic, but no one confessed to
having known him, and those who saw and spoke to him while in custody
maintain that he was an Afghan and a Sunite. He seems to have given
half-a-dozen contradictory accounts of himself; but the general
impression remains that he came from Turkey, and was by profession a
dervish. He had not come with the Haj, but had been first noticed as a
beggar at Mecca ten days before, when he had asked and received an alms
of the Sherif, and had since been several times found obtrusively in El
Husseyn's path. No one at Jeddah holds the Turkish Governor to have been
cognisant of the crime. He was personally on good terms with El Husseyn,
and has since been disgraced; but all point to the Stamboul Camarilla
and even the Sultan himself as its author. It is known that Abd el Hamid
constantly employs dervishes as his spies and private agents, and some
who pretend to know best affirm that the old man received his mission
directly from the Caliph. I do not affect to decide upon the point, but
think the _onus probandi_ to lie with those who would deny it.
Assassination of a dangerous rival or of too powerful a chieftain has
been the resource time out of mind of the Ottoman sovereigns, and they
can hardly claim indulgence now from public opinion. The Sheykh of the
Dervishes is all powerful with his fanatical followers, and he is the
Sultan's servant; a word from him would doubtless have secured the
services of twenty such devotees. One circumstance points decidedly to
Constantinople. It is known in Jeddah that El Husseyn's successor, who
had long been resident at Constantinople, sent orders to his agent at
Jeddah to prepare for his return as Grand Sherif two months before El
Husseyn, who was a young man, died; and that he had, moreover,
dispatched most of his baggage in anticipation.
The last words of the old assassin are curious. Having done his deed he
seemed quite happy, and neither ate nor drank, but prepared for the next
world. A little while before he was executed he related a story. "There
was once," he said, "an elephant, a great and noble beast, and to him
God sent a gnat, the smallest thing which is. It stung him on the trunk
and the elephant died. Allah Kerim: God is merciful."
El Husseyn's successor, the man for whom room was made, and who knew
beforehand that it was to be made, was none other than the aged and
twice deposed Abd el Mutalleb, the son of the Wahhabite Ghaleb, the
fiercest fanatic of the Dewy Zeyd.
I have not room here to describe in detail the effect of this coup de
Jarnac on the political aspect of Hejaz. For the moment the reactionary
party is in power at Mecca, as it is at Constantinople. Abd el Mutalleb
is supported by Turkish bayonets, and the Aoun family and the Liberals
are suffering persecution at Mecca, while the Sherifal Court, which had
hitherto been most friendly to England, has become the focus of Indian
discontent. Outside the town all is disorder. It is sufficient for the
present if I have shown that there is in Hejaz an element of spiritual
power already existing side by side with the Sultan, of which advantage
may one day be taken to provide him with a natural successor. If no new
figure should appear on the political horizon of Islam when the Ottoman
empire dies, sufficiently commanding to attract the allegiance of the
Mussulman world (and of such there is as yet no sign), it is certainly
to the Sherifal family of Mecca that the mass of Mohammedans would look
for a representative of their supreme headship, and of that Caliphate of
which they stand in need.
The transfer of the seat of spiritual power from Constantinople to Mecca
would be an easy and natural one, and would hardly disturb the existing
ideas of the vulgar, while it would harmonize with all the traditions of
the learned. Mecca or Medina would, on the extinction of Constantinople,
become almost of necessity the legal home of the Ahl el Agde, and might
easily become the acknowledged centre of spiritual power. All whom I
have spoken to on the subject agree that the solution would be an
acceptable one to every school of Ulema except the distinctly Turkish
schools. Indeed "Mecca, the seat of the Caliphate" is, as far as I have
had an opportunity of judging, the cry of the day with Mussulmans; nor
is it one likely to lose strength in the future. Like the cry of "Roma
capitale," it seems to exercise a strong influence on the imagination of
all to whom it is suggested, and when to that is added "a Caliphate from
the Koreysh," the idea is to Arabs at least irresistible. How indeed
should it be otherwise when we look back on history?
For my own part, though I do not pretend to determine the course events
will take, I consider this notion of a return to Mecca decidedly the
most probable of all the contingencies we have reviewed, and the one
which gives the best promise of renewed spiritual life for Islam.
Politically the Caliph at Mecca would of course be less important than
now on the Bosphorus; but religiously he would have a far more assured
footing. Every year the pilgrimage from every part of the world would
visit him, and instead of representing a mere provincial school of
thought, he would then be a true metropolitan for all schools and all
nations.
The Arabian element in Islam would certainly support such a nomination,
and it must be remembered that Arabia extends from Marocco to Bushire;
and so would the Indian and the Malay--indeed every element but the
Turkish, which is day by day becoming of less importance. I have even
heard it affirmed that a Caliphate of the Koreysh at Mecca would go far
towards reconciling the Schismatics, Abadhites, and Shiahs with
orthodoxy; and I have reason to believe that it would so affect the
liberal three-quarters of Wahhabism. To the Shiahs, especially, a
descendant of Ali could not but be acceptable; and to the Arabs of Oman
and Yemen a Caliph of the Koreysh would be at least less repugnant than
a Caliph of the Beni Othman. There certainly have of late years been
symptoms of less bitterness between these schismatics and their old
enemies, the Sunites; and such a change in the conditions of the
Caliphate might conceivably bring about a full reconciliation of all
parties. Mussulmans can no longer afford to fight each other as of old;
and I know that a reunion of the sects is already an idea with advanced
thinkers. Lastly, the Caliphate would in Arabia be freed from the
incubus of Turkish scholasticism and the stigma of Turkish immorality,
and would have freer scope for what Islam most of all requires, a moral
reformation.
It is surely not beyond the flight of sane imagination to suppose, in
the last overwhelming catastrophe of Constantinople, a council of Ulema
assembling at Mecca, and according to the legal precedent of ancient
days electing a Caliph. The assembly would, without doubt, witness
intrigues of princes and quarrels among schoolmen and appeals to
fanaticism and accusations of infidelity. Money, too, would certainly
play its part there as elsewhere, and perhaps blood might be shed. But
any one who remembers the history of the Christian Church in the
fifteenth century, and the synods which preceded the Council of Basle,
must admit that such accompaniments of intrigue and corruption are no
bar to a legal solution of religious difficulties. It was above all else
the rivalries of Popes and Anti-popes that precipitated the Catholic
Reformation.
FOOTNOTES:
[14] According to Canon Law the Caliph cannot cede any portion of the
lands of Islam except on physical compulsion.
[15] This too was written before the events of September, 1881. These
have immensely added to the chance of Cairo's becoming once more the
seat of the Caliphate, though not perhaps of Mohammed Towfik's being the
Caliph elected.