_PREPARING FOR SELF-RULE_
During the interregnum the most important task that had to be
undertaken by the Committee of Union and Progress, and one that caused
it a good deal of anxiety for a while, was the preparation of the
country for the coming general election of the members of Turkey’s new
Parliament. It could not but be a dangerous experiment thus suddenly to
give self-governing institutions to the ignorant Ottoman masses, who
had endured thirty years of the worst of despotisms. It would naturally
take long to make the peasantry understand that under the new order of
things taxation would not be as it was under the old, that the money
supplied by the people would be spent in reorganising and developing
the country to their own great benefit. All that they knew of taxation
was that it had been wrung from them to enrich the ruling clique, that
Constantinople swallowed up the huge sums which were collected in every
part of the Empire, and that little had been done for the people. It
was difficult to convince them that taxation could possibly be for
their own good. To quote from an article which appeared at the time
in a Constantinople paper: “Persuasion in this case will be of no
avail. Acts must precede arguments. Let works of public utility, roads,
railways, harbours, irrigation canals, be undertaken at once. Let the
police be organised. Let the troops in the provinces receive their pay
and be given their proper clothing and equipment as in the capital.” If
they beheld these changes, so advantageous to themselves, the people
would no doubt gradually lose their profound distrust of everything
connected with the administration of the State and realise that the
sacrifices entailed by taxation might mean the return to the taxpayers,
in the form of various benefits, of ten-fold what they had contributed.
When the elections did take place it was found that great numbers of
the poorer and more ignorant peasants, though as taxpayers entitled to
vote, refrained from exercising their right, for they suspected the
needful registration of being in some way connected with the exaction
of further taxation.
In the meanwhile, people, prejudiced against all outward form of
government and wholly ignorant of the elements of economics, suddenly
found themselves the free electors of a representative assembly. Many
people looked forward to the opening of the Parliament with grave
misgivings. It is rankest heresy in these days to give utterance to
such a sentiment, but one could not help thinking last autumn, when
the result of the elections was still in doubt, that it might have
been better to have continued the rule of the country for some time
longer through a Ministry selected by the Young Turk oligarchy,
and not to have conferred self-governing institutions on the people
until these had been to some extent educated by the object-lessons of
good government presented to them—the suppression of corruption, the
efficiency of public departments, the bringing of prosperity to the
wasted land, the wise expenditure on public works.
But it had been decreed that the Parliament should meet as soon as
possible, so the Committee of Union and Progress set itself to teach
the electorate the duties of citizenship, to explain to them what
constitutional government meant, and to employ its wide-reaching
organisation to secure so strong a representation of its nominees in
the Lower House as to give the Committee the control of affairs. The
Young Turks were too wise to be over-confident. They realised the
difficulties and dangers before them. They knew that the reactionaries
were intriguing everywhere and would seize their chance when they
got it. The Young Turks remained on their guard, determined that the
liberty so hardly won should not be wrested from Turkey as it was in
1878, and that if the Turkish Parliament failed as the Russian Duma
failed, it should not be to make way for the return of the Despotism.
It was recognised that, far from losing its _raison d’être_ with the
opening of Parliament, the Young Turk organisation would be needed more
than ever for the protection of the country, and would have to continue
its existence, with the army behind it as heretofore, for a long while
to come. The Committee of Union and Progress therefore held a Congress
in Salonica in October, at which measures were taken to strengthen
and effect the closer knitting together of the Young Turk party. It
was arranged that all the Deputies in the Turkish Parliament who were
nominees of the Committee should pledge themselves to support in its
entirety the programme laid down by the Committee. Arrangements were
made for the establishment of close relations between the Committee and
the Army. The secret Central Committee, the names of whose members are
unknown to the outer world, was re-elected at the Congress, but it was
decided that it should no longer have its head-quarters in Salonica and
that it should not hold its meetings in Constantinople. It was to have
no known or fixed habitation. The Young Turks, therefore, apparently
deemed it more necessary than ever that strict secrecy should be
observed as to who their real leaders were. By this time the Committee
had largely extended its membership, its sworn associates numbering
about seventy thousand—all that was best of the Ottoman manhood.
As the result of the electoral campaign conducted by the Committee
of Union and Progress their nominees are in an overwhelming majority
in the Turkish House of Commons, voting as one man on all important
questions. The Constitution arranged for the creation of a Senate,
or Second Chamber, composed of notables selected by the Sultan.
The Committee saw to it that the Senate should not become the
head-quarters of reaction. It presented a list of names to the Sultan,
who was pleased to appoint as Senators the persons thus suggested to
him. A parliament, the bulk of whose members are sworn to obey the
bidding of a secret society, may not be an ideal form of government;
but there can be little doubt that it was the best possible one for
Turkey during the early days of the new _régime_, when it was necessary
for the very existence of the Empire that one strong and patriotic
party should dominate the House and present a united front to foreign
foe and home reactionary. It was no time for parliamentary dissensions,
for the raising of delicate questions concerning the future position
of the various races, with their conflicting aspirations, or for the
discussion of the schemes of thorough-going decentralisation advocated
by the too broad-minded theorists who would grant home rule all round
to Turkey’s various peoples.
The Turks were novices at political combination, whereas the Greeks
were skilled in electioneering trickery of every sort and were
determined to obtain as large an electioneering representation as
possible in Parliament. The Greeks undoubtedly entertained the opinion
that, representing the brains and commercial wealth of Turkey, they
should take a leading place, above all the other elements of the
population, in the administration of the country. The Committee of
Union and Progress was not of this opinion, and under its guidance the
votes of the Mussulmans, largely supported by the Armenian and Jewish
vote, secured the ascendency of the ruling race in Parliament.
It is a fortunate thing for Turkey that the people who conquered
this land will still maintain their political supremacy under the
Constitution. The situation would be a dangerous one, indeed, were
the Greek vote ever to swamp that of the Mussulmans at the elections.
Another revolution, not of so bloodless a character as the last,
would be the probable result. It is obvious that for the Caliph, the
head of the Mussulman faith, to be under the direction of a Christian
Government would be intolerable to the millions of fanatical Moslem
subjects of the Porte in Asia, who already regard the Constitution
with great suspicion. It is absurd to suppose, too, that the Young
Turk party and the Mussulman Turkish army have overthrown despotism
only to hand over the rule of the country to what, for centuries, have
been the subject races. The Turks hold the inconsistent, but perfectly
justifiable, point of view that all Ottomans, of whatever race and
creed, shall have equal rights, but that the predominance of the
Mussulman Turks must be safeguarded. This may not be logic, but it is
common sense.
The opinions and misgivings of the Young Turks, while the elections
were in progress, were expressed as follows, in an article which
appeared in one of their organs in the capital: “The Mussulman element
is the one which, above all others, works to maintain the Empire’s
safety and integrity. The other elements have, more or less, other
ends in view. If we now deliver the government of the country into
the hands of the non-Mussulmans, who can suppose that these would
have Ottoman interests as their one aim? It is evident, therefore,
that under present conditions, if we wish to safeguard our national
existence, we must keep the government in our own hands, and be on
the watch lest the other elements snatch it from us. But it must not
be gathered from the opinions which we have thus expressed that we
intend to refuse to place the other elements on the same footing of
equality as the Mussulman element—that we wish to deprive them of their
political rights. To make sure of a majority in the Parliament is a
question of life and death for the Turks. It will not do for us to
take it for granted that the Turks are certain to obtain a majority in
Parliament because they compose a majority of the population. We state
it with regret, that the bulk of the Mussulmans, not realising the
importance of the elections, have not even taken the trouble to vote,
and that those who have voted have not come to an understanding with
each other, and have, therefore, failed to send an adequate number of
Deputies to the Chamber. It would be interesting to know what line of
action we ought to adopt if we found ourselves in a Chamber containing
a majority of non-Mussulman Deputies. The laws made by such a Chamber
would not favour the dominant element. Let us suppose, for example,
that the Greeks were in a strong majority in the Ottoman Parliament,
and that the question of the annexation of Crete to Greece was
under discussion. How many Greek Deputies would disapprove of that
annexation? And again, if the Bulgarians had the majority, what would
happen to Macedonia? The Turks, who conquered the country at the cost
of a great sacrifice, have proved that, with regard to the position
of the other elements, they are guided by the sentiments of equality,
justice, and liberty, but they will not tolerate the formation of a
State within a State. Our non-Mussulman compatriots, who desire to live
as brothers with the Mussulmans, must calmly examine their hearts and
consciences. Let them have the courage to tear from their hearts all
ideas—if they entertain such—which are prejudicial to the interests of
the Turkish rule, and let them, without fear, throw themselves into
our arms. They have nothing to fear from us; all that is asked of them
is that they make us believe in their sincerity. But, whatever may be
said in this country, it is the Turks who compose, and who will always
compose, the dominant element.”
The Committee, therefore, set itself diligently to work to secure the
ascendency of its adherents in Parliament. It selected as its nominees
the best men it could find, who commanded the respect of the people,
for the most part professional men in towns, and landed proprietors
in the country; and it undertook the education of the voters in the
exercise of their new privileges. It sent missionaries throughout the
country to preach the cause of the Constitution, and to confute the
arguments of the reactionary agents. It founded schools of political
instruction in the villages. Its lecturers addressed attentive crowds
in city streets. Even the theatres were used for the dissemination of
political doctrines, and both in Constantinople and Salonica I attended
plays written with the object of showing the horrors of the Despotism
and the blessings of liberty under constitutional government.
One night I visited a Turkish theatre in Pera, where a company of
amateurs—Young Turks, several of whom were officers in the army,
whilst the others had either recently been released from prison or
had returned from exile—presented a patriotic play entitled “The
Awakening of Turkey.” In this remarkable play, though fictitious names
appeared on the programme, nearly all the characters impersonated were
well-known men, creatures of the Palace, reformers, and others, and
whenever an actor appeared on the scene so good was his make-up that
the audience at once knew who was intended, and received him with warm
applause or cries and groans of execration, as the case might be. The
play opened with a sort of prologue—“the Pasha’s dream.” The curtain
rose and disclosed a room in which a white-bearded old man was sleeping
in an arm-chair. He was recognised by the audience as a well-known
victim of the Despotism. The Pasha, as he slept, dreamt a vivid dream,
which now unfolded itself before us. The back of the room faded away,
and we looked into the interior of a luxuriously furnished chamber
in the Yildiz Palace. And here, in dumb show, were enacted before us
some of the evil doings of the Camarilla that is no more. There we saw,
made up to the life, the Sultan’s hated secretary, Izzet Pasha, and to
judge from his reception by the audience he is safer in his English
house than he would be in Constantinople. There, too, were the Sultan’s
aged astrologer, Abdul Houda, and other Court favourites. Spies came
in with lists of denounced reformers, and orders for execution or
for the _oubliette_ were signed. The tyrants bethought themselves
to seek recreation in the intervals of their cruel business, so the
hideous and fawning black eunuchs were ordered to bring in a troupe of
beautiful Armenian dancing girls. A young Turk in chains was led in,
tortures were applied to him in vain to wring from him the betrayal
of his associates; so he was put to death there and then by the
Court executioner, in the presence of his wife, who was on her knees
imploring for mercy, and frantic with grief, while the callous Court
favourites, with scarce a side glance at the bloody deed, continued
to gaze with gloating eyes at the dance of the slave girls. Then a
messenger came in with news that was evidently of importance. He opened
the box which he had brought with him, and to the joy of the courtiers
drew out the bleeding head of the murdered Midhat Pasha.
Then the vision faded away, and the Pasha awoke from his nightmare.
It had deeply affected him, and in a long speech he announced his
intention of fleeing from Turkey to Paris in order that he might
help to organise the revolution by which Turkey must be saved. His
son entered, was delighted to hear the Pasha’s resolve, and agreed
to accompany him. The scenes of the play itself were laid in Paris.
We heard plots being arranged by spies in the Turkish Embassy in the
French capital, and saw them circumvented by an _attaché_ of the
Embassy, who happened to be a secret adherent of the Young Turk party.
We witnessed the deathbed of the Pasha, who had abandoned wife and
property for the sake of his country, and who, in a long speech, urged
his son to persevere in the good work. We were taken to a Mussulman
burial ground, where an eloquent funeral oration was delivered over
the remains of the dead patriot, and we witnessed his apotheosis when
angels bore him upwards to Paradise. The final scene represented a
somewhat extraordinary entertainment at the Turkish Embassy, where a
good deal of champagne was being drunk; suddenly, in rushed a newsboy
carrying a poster announcing the proclamation of the Constitution; and
the curtain dropped on the group of revelling spies, now overwhelmed
with fear and consternation.
It was a gloomy play, mainly made up of long and earnest monologues,
lit up occasionally with flashes of grim humour, but its effect upon
the audience was extraordinary. The actors who represented the friends
of liberty delivered, with great oratorical power, eloquent speeches,
in which they preached the righteousness of the cause, and the beauty
of sacrifice of self for the fatherland. They swayed the audience as
they willed; for these were not merely clever actors who felt their
parts, but men who had done, and were still doing, in real life, the
things that they represented upon the stage. The audience hung upon
their words, warmly applauded the patriotic sentiments, and showed
their detestation of the tyrants and their pity for the sufferers.
There were tears in the eyes of many men present, to whom, no doubt,
the play recalled bitter memories. The audience was mostly exclusively
composed of Mussulman Turks—soldiers, theological students, turbanned
_hodjas_, and others. In the higher-priced seats were many officers of
the army and navy, and two near relatives of the Sultan were in the
boxes.