The dominion of the Ottoman clan, which should have been
a mere passing phenomenon, like the similar dominion of
another Tartar clan in Russia, owes its continuance,
as we read its history, to three causes, two of them
intellectual. The first is the extraordinary, indeed the
absolutely unrivalled force displayed through ages by the
descendants of Othman, the Tartar chief from Khorassan.
The old line, “An Amurath, an Amurath succeeds,” has been
substantially true. Sprung originally from a stock welded
into iron by the endless strife of the great Asiatic
desert, mating always with women picked for some separate
charm either of beauty or captivation, the sultans,
with the rarest exceptions, have been personages, great
soldiers, great statesmen, or great tyrants. Mahmoud the
destroyer of the Janissaries, who only died in 1839—that
is, while men still middle-aged were alive—was the equal
in all but success of Amurath I, who organized, though
he did not invent, that terrible institution; and even
the present sultan, in many ways so feeble, is no Romulus
Augustulus, no connoisseur in poultry, but a timid Louis
XI, who overmatches Russians and Greeks in craft, who
terrifies men like his Ottoman Pashas, and who is obeyed
with trembling by the most distant servant of his throne.
The terrible emir of Afghanistan, whose satraps, while
ruling provinces and armies, open his letters “white in
the lips with fear,” is not regarded with more slavish
awe than Abdul Hamid, the recluse who watches always in
his palace against assassination or mutiny. We have only
to remember what the Hohenzollerns have been to Prussia,
to understand what the family of Othman, defended as they
have been against revolution by the Mussulman belief that
“when Othman falls Islam falls,” has been to a fighting
clan.
—MEREDITH TOWNSEND in “Asia and Europe.”
The countries under Turkish rule are lands of real resource, and yet
a superficial view of the greater part of the Turkish empire gives
one the impression of extreme poverty. Throughout most of the country
the hills have been denuded of timber, and trees are found only where
they are cultivated. There are still some forest lands bordering on
the southern shores of the Black Sea, especially towards the east. In
Armenia, the region in which the Tigris and Euphrates rivers have their
rise, even the roots of the scrub-oaks that grow upon the low mountains
and high plateaux are dug up for fuel. The crops, in large part, are
raised by the most primitive methods of irrigation, although in the
western part of Asia Minor, as well as in other sections, considerable
high land crops are produced. These are uncertain, owing to frequent
failure of the rains. There are other large sections, like the plains
to the north of the modern city of Diarbekr—the ancient city of Amida
upon the banks of the Tigris—where for lack of surface water a large
area of the richest arable land lies waste, except as flocks and herds
roam over it during the rainy season in the spring.
Yet there are few countries in the world that can boast of richer
or more productive soil than can Turkey. There are desert regions
in Arabia, but these are not as extensive as we have been wont to
suppose. Turkey exports more foodstuffs than she imports, although
her agricultural resources are but slightly developed. The method of
farming is entirely antiquated, the same primitive plow being in
constant use to-day that was employed by Abraham in the fields of
Haran. In spite of this fact, wheat of excellent quality, barley,
rice, millet, cotton, tobacco, the opium poppy, and almost all kinds
of vegetables, as well as grapes, plums, cherries, olives, quinces,
oranges, lemons, figs, and pomegranates are produced in great
abundance. The mulberry-tree flourishes in many regions. Sheep, goats,
and a stunted breed of cattle and the water-buffalo, donkeys and horses
thrive in most parts of the country, while as beasts of burden the
camel and mule are found in all sections of Asiatic Turkey.
The country is also rich in minerals, but the mines are undeveloped. By
the laws of the land, all minerals belong to the government, hence no
private mining enterprises are permitted. Coal is found in many parts
of the country, but being a mineral, by government classification, it
cannot be mined except officially. Copper, silver, and lead abound, but
the few mines worked by the government have not been paying enterprises
except to the official in charge.
In a word, Turkey is naturally a rich country, with boundless resources
now largely undeveloped, with undreamed-of possibilities of increased
production under modern methods of agriculture and mining. It is
probably true that the empire includes some of the very richest land
and ore deposits in the world.
Exportation from Turkey is limited to the coast borders and to the
proximity of the few railways that exist. Railroads are confined to
the European district and the eastern section of Asia Minor, with
a short line reaching to Tarsus and Adana from Mersin and one from
Joppa up to Jerusalem. New lines are under construction intending to
connect Damascus with Mecca. Railroads cannot long be kept out of the
interior of the country. There are but few made wagon roads, nearly
all of which have been constructed since the Crimean war in 1854. One
of the most noted of these few roads over which wheeled vehicles can
pass extends from Samsoun upon the middle southern coast of the Black
Sea, through Marsovan, Tokat, Amasia, Sivas, Malatia, Harpoot, and
Diarbekr, ending at Mardin, a distance of nearly six hundred miles.
Some of the bridges planned were never built, and many were washed away
soon after construction. Another highway of a similar nature extends
from Trebizond to Erzerum. Others have been recently built in Northern
Syria. These roads never fail to be in poor repair. But the ordinary
roads are worse, being in all parts of the empire mere bridle-paths,
often worn deep in the solid rock by the hoof-beats of the caravans of
fifty centuries.
These conditions necessitate in the interior the transportation
of all freight by horse or camel, thus discouraging commerce and
trade, increasing the price of imports and making export practically
impossible. This explains why a famine may prevail in one part of the
country when at the same time, less than three hundred miles away, the
crops are abundant. A good system of railroads would revolutionize
everything. There is an abundance of foreign capital ready to
construct such roads. Some fifteen years ago the plan was practically
consummated to build a railroad from Samsoun through Asia Minor down
across northern Mesopotamia to Bagdad. At the last moment the plan was
thwarted by the sultan himself. In conversation upon this matter with
an intelligent Mohammedan official who had been educated in England and
France, the writer asked him if he did not understand that such a road
would bring much wealth into the country, and at the same time develop
far more wealth in the country itself. He was asked if he had studied
the railroads of America and Europe and observed the great value they
were in every way in those countries. His reply was characteristic.
It was in substance, “I know well that all that you say of the value
of railroads to a country is true. You have not overstated it. At the
same time I know, and so does my master, the sultan, that every dollar
of foreign capital that comes into this country under concessions as
an investment, curtails by so much the authority of the sultan in his
own domains. Such capital always brings with it foreign protection.
If his imperial majesty should change his mind, as he has full right
to do at any time, in regard to any of these concessions, he is at
once confronted by the protests of that country to which the capital
belongs, demanding that he adhere to the original agreement or pay
damages. The ruler of the Ottoman empire will never willingly submit to
such humiliation. When railroads are built through Turkey, his majesty
will construct them himself.”
This explains why foreign capital is not building railroads, developing
mines, and constructing factories in that country. It explains why, in
this respect, Turkey is still in the depths of the dark ages.
The telegraph system of the country is entirely in the hands of the
government and reaches every city of any considerable size. This
became necessary to the sultan in order to carry on the processes of
government. Telegrams are carefully censored; cipher despatches, when
known to be such, are not accepted except from ambassadors and from
foreign powers to their chief at the Porte, or vice versa. The postal
system is antiquated, irregular, and uncertain, reaching only the large
towns upon the limited cross-country routes. Telephones are strictly
prohibited.
In Constantinople and in several of the port cities like Smyrna,
Trebizond, etc., there are foreign post-offices supported and conducted
by foreign countries and using foreign stamps. These became necessary
because of the unreliability of the Turkish offices. The local
government has made several attempts to abolish the sale and use of
foreign postage-stamps in the country, but has failed of accomplishing
it because the representatives of the leading foreign powers are
unwilling to trust their mail to Turkish supervision and control.