woman present had been divorced, and one woman was exactly like the
Samaritan woman who came to the well to draw water: she had had five
husbands, and the one she had now was not her husband. The hostess
herself, the bridegroom's mother, a woman of fine presence, had been
divorced, but was brought back to preside over this important function,
as there was no one else to do it, but her former husband was not
present, as Druze law forbids a man ever looking again on the face of
his divorced wife. Their women are cast off in a most heartless way, but
they cannot be taken back again. The ceremony of marriage consists in
fastening up over a door a sword wreathed with flowers and with candles
tied on it, and then passing under it.
The form of divorce is very simple. It is illustrated in the life of a
Druze prince who married a girl of high family, beautiful and of a
strong character and fine mind. They were devoted to each other, but she
had no children. She had suspicions of what was in store for her, which
were realized one day when she had been on a visit to her native
village with her husband. They were riding together towards home, when
they came to a fork in the road.
The prince turned and said: "Here is the parting of the way." She
understood, and turned, weeping, back to her father's house. The prince
afterwards sent and bought a beautiful Circassian slave, and married
her, but she had no children, and so she in turn was divorced. The
prince had, contrary to custom, been in the habit of paying visits to
the house of his first wife who had been married to another man, and now
he obliged her second husband to divorce her. He turned Mohammedan in
order to be able to take his wife back again.
Among the Druzes, the ladies of good family are secluded even more
rigorously than in Mohammedan families. Even in the villages they rarely
leave their homes, going out only at night to pay visits to women of
equal station. Some of them have never been outside of their own doors
since they were little girls. One girl, the daughter of an Emir, was
sent away to spend a year in a Protestant boarding-school. There she was
allowed to go for walks with the girls, attended the church services,
and had a glimpse into a life very different from the dull seclusion
which would naturally be her lot among her own people. But she failed to
take home the lessons taught her that Christ was her Saviour and Friend,
and would be her help and comfort in whatever was hard to bear. She
returned to her home and soon learned that, although she had been
allowed these unusual privileges, she need expect no more liberty than
her mother had been allowed before her. She found the shut-in life so
intolerable that she secretly ate the heads of matches and poisoned
herself so that she sickened and died, having confessed her act and
telling the reason.
There are others among these girls who have been taught in evangelical
schools, who have learned to love Christ, whose faith is strong and
whose trust sustains them and keeps them patient and cheerful amid very
great trials and even cruel treatment from their husbands, "Strengthened
in their endurance by the vision of the Invisible God."
To go back to Mohammedan women. It is surprising how exceedingly
ignorant many of them are, even the women of the higher classes from
whom you might expect better things. A visitor inquired of her
Mohammedan hostess if she would tell her the name of the current
Mohammedan month. "I do not concern myself with such things, you must
ask the Effendi." Their minds seem to be blank except in regard to their
relations to their families, to sleeping, eating, and diseases, to their
clothes, and their servants, and the current gossip of the neighborhood.
Formerly it was not believed that girls were capable of learning
anything, and years ago an Effendi in Tripoli, when urged to have his
daughter taught to read, exclaimed, "Teach a girl to read! I should as
soon try to teach a cat!" But those days are passing and the
Mohammedans are beginning to bestir themselves in the matter of
educating their girls. They are opening schools for girls in all the
cities, though judging from the attainments of some of the teachers, the
girls are not taught very much. When these schools were first opened in
Beirut, the only available teachers were girls who had been in
attendance on the Protestant schools, and some of them had only been
there a few months.
In Sidon there is a large Mohammedan school for girls, where are
gathered from five to six hundred girls. The Koran is the text-book,
reading and writing are taught and needle-work has a large place in the
curriculum.
Years ago an old Effendi was attending the examination in Miss Taylor's
school for Mohammedan and Druze girls. "My two granddaughters are here,"
he said to a missionary sitting beside him. "I was instrumental in
starting a school of our own for girls, and I took my granddaughters
away from here and put them in the new school. One day I went to visit
the school. When I was still at a distance I heard the teacher screaming
at the girls and cursing them, saying, 'May God curse the beard of your
grandfathers, you dogs!' Now, I was the grandfather of two of those
children and I knew they heard enough of such language at home without
being taught it at school, so I brought them back to this good place."
The aim of the Mohammedans in their schools is twofold: being both to
benefit and train the girls, making them more companionable, and also to
fortify them against Christian teaching. The aim of our work and our
teaching is more than that, for we desire, not only to enlarge the
mental horizon but to cultivate the heart, to open up for them the
wellspring of true joy and store their memories with hymns of praise and
the inspiring and comforting words of Christ. But more than all to lead
them to accept for themselves their only Saviour, the Son of God, who
died for them, who only is the true "Prophet of the Highest," whose
mission is "to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow
of death." We claim for these dear women and girls the liberty which
their own sacred Koran inculcates: "Let there be no compulsion in
religion." (From the Sura called "The Cow," v. 257.)
And will the favored Christian women of England, America, and Germany,
and all free Christian lands not join those already on the field either
in prayer or personal service, that they may have a part in bringing
many of these Mohammedan women, sweet and lovable, and capable of rising
to high levels as many of them are, out of their "darkness into His
Marvellous Light"?
XV
BEHIND THE LATTICE IN TURKEY
If the condition of women under Islam is degraded and wellnigh hopeless
in other parts of the world, what must be the condition of such women in
Turkey, the seat of Moslem power, the centre of the Caliphate, with the
green flag of the Prophet kept at Seraglio Point, in Constantinople?
The picture of woman's degradation throughout the Empire is black
enough, yet gleams of light play over the blackness, and these gleams
grow steadily stronger and more frequent. Turkey not only borders upon
Europe, and thus is nearer to Western civilization and its progress, but
its extended coast-line affords many ports of entry, to which comes no
inconsiderable part of the travel and trade of the world. Kaiser
William's railroads are opening up the western portion of the empire,
and cause a curious jumble of modern advance with so-called fixed
Oriental ways.
With their parasols held low over their heads, even though the day be
cloudy, or the sun be set, the veiled and costumed Turkish women may be
seen in crowds on Friday, their Sabbath, and holidays, sitting upon
grassy slopes, with their children playing about them. They go in
groups or followed by a servant, if from richer families, as they are
not trusted to go alone. In the interior, even, non-Moslem women are
veiled almost as closely as the Mohammedans, when upon the street. Such
is the power of prejudice that it is not thought proper for any woman to
be seen in public.
They live behind their lattices, and woe to any Christian house whose
windows command a view into a Moslem neighbor's premises, no matter how
distant. Such juxtaposition is the reason for the unsightly walls and
lofty screens which disfigure many an otherwise beautiful view, in any
part of Turkey. No strange man may look upon any Moslem woman.
The slow but sure disintegration of these customs, prejudices, and
superstitions, is going on, thank God! Darkness is fleeing before the
light. If the churches of Christ will but take the watchword, "The
Moslem world for Christ, in this century!" and put all needed resources
of men and means, consecrated energy and prayer, into the campaign, even
the False Prophet shall be vanquished before Him who is King of kings
and Lord of lords!
I have travelled on the railroad in Turkey with Moslem women, in the
special compartment, where in the freedom of the day's travel, they have
thrown back their veils and silken wraps, showing their pretty French
costumes and the diamonds upon their fingers, as they offered their
Frank fellow-traveller cake, or possibly chocolates, and have more than
once felt the embarrassment of a missionary purse too slender to allow
of such luxuries, with which to return the compliment. Once a Moslem
woman took from her travelling hand-basket paper and pencil, and
proceeded to write, as I was doing! Page after page she wrote, though in
just the reverse manner from our writing, and we soon established a
feeling of comradeship.
I have been also a deeply sympathetic witness of moving scenes in which
the proverbial love of the Turkish father for his children could not be
concealed. As the train awaited the signal for departure from a station,
one day, the evident distress of a pretty girl opposite me, broke into
crying. She had climbed into the corner by the window, and the guard had
not yet closed the door. Involuntarily my eyes followed the child's
grieved gaze, until they rested upon a tall, gray-bearded Turkish
officer standing by the station, who was evidently striving to control
his emotion answering to the grief of the child. Finally he yielded to
the heart-broken crying of the little one, and came to the car door to
speak soothingly to her. The young mother sat stoically through it all,
seemingly content with her rich dress and jewels, and her comfortable
appointments for travelling. Not so with the father and his child, who
were so grieved over their coming separation. When finally the door had
been slammed by the guard, and locked, and our journey begun, some time
elapsed before the still grieving child could be won to take any
interest in the good things with which her mother then sought to beguile
her. Surely such a human father, so tender toward his little child,
could be taught the love of our Heavenly Father for each child of His,
which has provided a Saviour for every repenting soul returning to Him!
Thus the lion would be changed into the lamb, and the Turkish officer,
often unspeakably cruel to his enemies, would become a man and a brother
even to his foes.
Moslem women, although by the rules of their religion almost entirely
secluded from the outer world, and from all men save those of their own
families, are, nevertheless, being powerfully affected by the growing
light of civilization, which has not only revealed their darkness, but
has penetrated it to some degree, while the burning glow and love of
Christianity, through zenana workers and schools, has far more than
begun the work of transformation.
How can mothers consent that their daughters shall be sold, while yet
children, to any man, no matter how old, who will pay the price her
father demands for her, when she has learned even a little of the loving
honor given to his wife and daughter by the Christian husband and
father? How can she consent to see her given in a marriage to which her
approval has not even been asked, or possibly where it has been refused?
Yet, pity it is that without the consent of mother or girl, she may be
conveyed, a bride, to the house of her lord, who has perhaps not deigned
to be present,--and she of course not,--at the arrangement by their
legal representatives, for signing the contract, and fixing the amount
of dowry which she brings, or the sum which he shall give her in case he
at any time shall decree her divorce. This is all that constitutes the
marriage ceremony in Turkey. I once saw the arrival of a Turkish bride
at her bridegroom's house. There was no welcome. She alighted with a
woman friend from the closed carriage. Some one must have waited within
the garden, for the heavy street-gate opened at their approach, received
the women, closed upon them, and the bride was shut into her husband's
house, from all the world. If she displeases him in any way, even if her
cooking does not suit him, a word from her husband suffices to divorce a
wife, according to Moslem law. He may have as many wives as he wishes,
and another is easily found.
Mohammedan husbands are allowed to punish their wives with blows, to
enforce obedience. A whole town pervaded by these Turkish ideas was
filled with amazement at a burly non-Moslem friend of mine, whose wife
had become a Christian. Although jeered at and ridiculed by his
companions as one who could not make his wife obey him, he never lifted
his hand against her, for he loved her too well. He did, however, cause
her great unhappiness for years, until the Spirit of God broke his hard
heart, and made him also a Christian.
No Turk expects a woman to speak to him in a public place, or if she
does he will not raise his eyes from the ground. A friend of mine was in
deepest distress in a lonely place in Turkey, wringing her hands and
crying "Alas! Alas!" as she saw a man approaching her; but Agha Effendim
gave her no heed until she walked straight up to him, so sore was her
need, and told him her trouble. Then his heart was touched, and
Mohammedan Albanian as he was, he rendered her the aid which she asked.
Forty Mohammedan women, living too distant from Mecca to allow a
pilgrimage thither, made the ascent, one summer, of one of the loftiest
mountain peaks in European Turkey. They did this as a religious duty. It
was a feat which required all the vigor and strength of an American
mountain-climber, who ascended the same peak some days later. She could
not abandon the task, however, which they had accomplished, whose feet
knew only the heelless slipper or the wooden clog, when about their
household duties, or stepped noiselessly in their gaily embroidered
homemade stockings, when indoors. _The Turkish woman can climb._ She can
reach lofty heights. Slowly and painfully she will leave her dense
ignorance, her habits of superstition, her jealousies, and her intrigues
behind her and will emerge, led by the loving hand of her Christian
sister, sometimes of her husband or child, into the glorious liberty of
the children of God.
We admit that ofttimes the obstacles seem insuperable, when we meet the
barrier of the unawakened life. What opportunity is there before the
little mother but fourteen years old herself? How shall she escape the
name which her own family perhaps give her--"a cow"? "Cattle" is a
common term for women. Her men-folks will very likely hinder her
education, in many instances, but she must be led out of her old life,
along this way. The mothers of coming generations, with unlimited
influence over their husband's inclination and conduct even when set
toward progress--the Turkish woman _must_ be reached! Christianity is
the one means to allay her superstitions, her jealousies, her fears, and
to give her a true outlook upon life and its meaning. The women of
Christendom must help her who cannot help herself. The pitifulness of
the condition of Turkish women, and the difficulty of reaching them,
form the challenge of Islam to the Christian world. Shall we take up the
gauntlet thrown down by the Crescent and the Star, and lifting high the
banner of the Cross, go forward in Christ's name, because God wills
their salvation as truly as ours, and sends us to them in His name?
The influence of civilization is necessarily felt far less in the
interior of Turkey than in the maritime sections; yet here also, thanks
to the multiplication of schools and teachers and loving Christian
women trained in those schools, conditions are beginning to be changed.
"In one city of western Turkey," we are told, "the Turks themselves
asked for a kindergarten teacher from our American mission school, to
open a kindergarten for them, and it was done. Girls' schools have
sprung up among the Moslems in various parts of the country, from the
same influences which affected Greeks and Armenians, though more slowly.
Quite recently there has been an awakening among the Turks to the fact
that if they would keep pace with the march of civilization they must
provide for the education of their girls. So now, in some of the large
cities, schools for Turkish girls have been established, and, although
the attendance is still small and the work elementary, yet it shows the
trend of opinion, and gives great hope of soon bettering the condition
of women in the empire."
Another observer writes concerning more progressive portions of Turkey:
"The power of education is proving a sure disintegrator to the seclusion
of Moslem social life. Turkish women have already taken enviable places
among the writers of their nation. Others are musicians, physicians,
nurses, and a constantly increasing number are availing themselves of
the educational facilities afforded by the German, French, and other
foreign institutions which have been established at Constantinople,
Smyrna, and elsewhere in the Ottoman Empire. In the beautiful American
College for Girls, on the heights of Scutari, Constantinople, Turkish
girls, as well as those of all nationalities of the Orient and Franks,
eagerly take advantage of the course, and a few have graduated with
honor. A far larger number, however, are removed to the seclusion of
their homes as they approach maidenhood. On the day when the first six
girls from Moslem families were received, more than one of them learned
the entire English alphabet. What a need for prayer that the Spirit of
God shall reach those receptive young hearts from the very first day, in
this and every other Christian educational institution to which Moslem
girls turn their steps!" The most tactful and consecrated work of their
missionary or native teachers must be done every day, for such Turkish
girls, whether in more elementary schools or in colleges, inasmuch as
the proverb of the country: "Either marry your daughter at sixteen or
bury her!" is still very much in force beyond those limited districts
where the influence of Western ideas has availed to modify somewhat the
old thought. What they gain during the short time when they may remain
in school, must be the food of their lives, in multitudes of instances.
We know the paucity of literature of all kinds in Turkey, where
government press regulations prohibit any general output of
publications; this, combined with the very general poverty of the
people, makes many a home bookless, and the great majority of lives
barren. Sometimes in missionary tours we have seen far up on the
hillside a group of poor peasants descending. The sudden turning of the
women of that party, drawing their filthy veils closer across their
faces on hot July or August days, reveals to the passers-by that these
are Moslems. They have discovered that there are men in the approaching
party of travellers. They may have mistaken the ladies wearing hats as
gentlemen also. A command has evidently been given by their lord and
master, at which the women have sunk to the ground, with their backs to
the road, while still far from it, lest one of those infidel eyes should
peer through their veils, and look upon their faces. Yet women's
curiosity compels those hidden eyes to seek at least a surreptitious
peep at the foreign travellers, and they watch us furtively. Under such
circumstances there can be no hope of any personal touch, save if
occasion might arise which would allow a call at the hovel which
constitutes their home. On one of my last journeys in Turkey I chanced
to meet a Turkish soldier on a lonely mountain road. As I passed him,
walking in advance of my horse and driver, filled with no small
trepidation at such proximity in that lonely place, he gave me no
salutation, and I confess to a feeling of relief when I had passed him
unchallenged. But how that feeling changed to remorse when my driver
overtook me, and said that the soldier had stopped him to inquire if the
teacher who had just gone by were a doctor, for a little child of his
lay at home grievously ill. What an opportunity had been missed! If he
only had spoken, the pitiful need in that home would have been opened up
to the missionary teacher, who, although not a doctor, would have done
what she could to relieve the little sufferer, and to comfort the
sorrowing parents. There would have been a chance to bring to that poor,
ignorant mother in her miserable home, a token of love and tenderness
out of the great world of which she knew nothing.
One of the most discouraging aspects of life in Turkey at the present
time, is found in the fact that as men travel about in their business or
professional life; come into contact in various ways with those of
different views and more advanced thought than themselves; become
influenced by them; and mildly enthusiastic to put the new ideas into
practice; they are met on the very threshold of their homes by their
uncomprehending and immovable wives, who with horror refuse to allow the
souls of their families to be imperilled by tolerating any such
heresies. This difficulty, instead of being cause for discouragement,
constitutes a powerful challenge to the heart of Christianity, to help
such an awakening man, and to find the dormant soul of this woman. No
opposition can long stand before the appeal of the Gospel, when
tactfully, lovingly, prayerfully brought to bear upon such souls.
Fatima Khanum ("my Sovereign Fatima"), a Bible woman, seventy years old,
finds the joy of the Lord to be still her strength, as she goes from
house to house, telling in her musical Turkish tongue the story of God's
love for every man, and urges all to receive it. Very closely they get
together on a wintry day, as visitor and visited gather about the
brazier of coals, and talk over the wonderful words of life. May God
greatly multiply the number of such faithful witnesses for Him,
throughout the Turkish Empire!
"Evet, Effendim!" ("yes, my lord!") frequently says a missionary friend
who, having learned the Turkish as her missionary language when a young
teacher, still cherishes her love for it, and sometimes uses it to her
best-beloved. Shall we not say, Yes, Lord! to Him who died on Calvary
for all, and who is "not willing that any should perish," and with Him
seek those "other sheep," and bring them to the fold of the Good
Shepherd? There can be no failure here, although the church of Christ
has but slowly and late come to the realization that the Mohammedan
world too, with its millions of women and children, must be His. Hath
not God said: "Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth:
for I am God, and there is none else.... Unto Me every knee shall bow"?
XVI
A VOICE FROM BULGARIA
I received some days ago your letter asking for something upon the
condition of Mohammedan women in Bulgaria. My observation has been
limited, and I have not had opportunity to learn from others what they
had seen, except from our dear old Fatima Hanum, for so many years a
Bible woman among Mohammedan women.