ISLAM IN TURKEY.
Religious Parties—The Ulema and Softas—Conservatism—Imams,
Muftis, and Kadis or Mollahs—Corruption—The Dervishes—Their
Influence over the People—A Dervish Fanatic in Bulgaria—Various
Orders of Dervishes—Revolving and Howling Dervishes—The
Bektashis—A Frank Sheikh—Ceremonies of Islam—Friday at the
Mosque—The Prayers—Ramazan—A Night in Ramazan—Pilgrimage—Kismet.
The religion of the Turks is properly the orthodox or _Sunni_ form of
Islam, the doctrines of which are too well known to require description
here. But the subject is complicated by the fact that there is a
considerable opposition between the popular and the “respectable”
religion. The Established Church, so to speak, of Turkey is governed by
the Ulema, or learned men trained in the mosques, often supported by
pious endowments. The popular faith, on the other hand, is led by the
various sects of dervishes, between whom and the Ulema there exists an
unconquerable rivalry. Some account of these two parties is essential to
any description of the people of Turkey.
The Ulema are the hereditary expounders of the Koran, to the traditional
interpretation of which they rigidly adhere. They have nothing to say to
the many innovations that time has shown to be needful in the religion of
Mohammed, and they brand as heretics all who differ a hair’s-breadth from
the old established line. The result of this uncompromising orthodoxy has
been that the Ulema, together with their subordinates the Softas (a sort
of Moslem undergraduates), have managed to preserve an _esprit de corps_
and a firm collected line of action that is without a parallel in Turkish
parties.
Midhat Pasha and his party perceived this, and made use of the Ulema
as tools to effect their purpose; but as soon as the _coup d’état_ was
completed, Midhat Pasha’s first care was to free himself as much as
possible from further obligations towards them, and to break up their
power by exile, imprisonment, and general persecution. He understood that
if left to acquire further ascendency in public affairs, great mischief
would ensue. The Ulema were clamoring loudly for reforms; but the reforms
they demanded were those of the ancient Osmanlis and the execution of the
Sheriat or Koran laws, which, equitable as they are among Mohammedans,
would not improve the condition of the rayah. Herein lies the chief
reason why reforms in Turkey remain for the most part a dead letter. The
Koran has no conception of the possibility of Christian subjects enjoying
the same rights as their Moslem neighbors. No judge, therefore, likes to
go against this spirit; and no good Mohammedan can ever bring himself to
a level with a caste marked by his Prophet with the brand of inferiority.
Midhat Pasha, thoroughly cognizant of this fact, could not enter into
a pact with the Ulema, the strictest observers of the Koran law, and
at the same time satisfy the urgent demands of Europe in favor of the
Christian subjects of the Porte. He did the best he knew in the midst of
these difficulties, and produced his constitution. This was construed in
one light to the Mohammedans, and in another to the Christians; whilst
it was intended to pacify Europe by insuring, nominally at least, the
reforms demanded by her for the rayahs. Nobody, however, believed in the
Constitution. The Mohammedans never meant to carry it into execution; and
Europe, in its divided opinions on the subject, had the satisfaction of
seeing it submerged in the vortex of succeeding events.
The order of Ulema is divided into three classes: the _Imams_, or
ministers of religion; the _Muftis_, doctors of the law; and the _Kadis_
or _Mollahs_, judges. Each of these classes is subdivided into a number
of others, according to the rank and functions of those that compose it.
The _imams_, after passing an examination, are appointed by the Sheikh ul
Islam to the office of priests in the mosques. The fixed pay they receive
is small, about 6_l._ or 7_l._ per annum. Some mosques have several
imams. Their functions are to pronounce the prayer aloud and guide the
ceremonies. The chief imam has precedence over the other imams, the
muezzins (callers to prayer), the khatibs, hodjas, and other servants of
the mosque.
In small mosques, however, all these functions are performed by the
imam and the muezzin. Imams are allowed to marry, and their title is
hereditary. Should the son be unlettered, he appoints a deputy who
performs his duties. Imams, generally speaking, are coarse and ignorant,
and belong to the lower-middle class of Turkish society. Their influence
in the parish is not great, and the services they fulfil among their
communities consist in assisting in the parish schools, giving licenses,
and performing the ceremonies of circumcision, marriage, and of washing
and burying the dead. They live rent free, often deriving annuities from
church property. The communities pay no fixed fees, but remuneration is
given every time the services of the imam are required by a family. No
Mohammedan house can be entered by the police unless the imam of the
parish takes the lead and is the first to knock at the door and cross
the threshold. Should the search be for a criminal in cases of adultery,
and the charge be brought by the imam himself certifying the entrance of
the individual into the house, and the search prove fruitless, the imam
is liable to three months’ imprisonment. A case of the kind happened
a few years ago to a highly respectable imam in Stamboul, who, having
for some time noticed the disorderly conduct of a hanoum of his parish,
gave evidence, supported by his two mukhtars, or parish officers, of
having seen some strangers enter the house. The search leading to no
discovery, the hanoum demanded reparation for her wounded honor, and the
three functionaries were cast into prison. The imam, on being released,
cut his throat, unable to survive the indignation he felt at seeing the
evidence of three respectable persons slighted and set aside before the
protestations of false virtue, backed by bribes.
This is one of the strange licenses of Turkish law. Crime is not punished
unless its actual commission is certified by eye-witnesses; this is the
reason that evidence of crime committed during the night is not admitted
as valid by the laws of the country. The imams, under the pressure of
this law, think twice before they give evidence; nor do they much like
the unpleasant duty of accompanying police inspections, from which they
generally excuse themselves.
The _muftis_, or doctors of the law, rank next: seated in the courts of
justice, they receive the pleas, examine into the cases, and explain them
to the mollah, according to their merits or the turn they may wish to
give to them. There is very general complaint against the corruption of
these men, in whose hands lies the power of misconstruing the law.
The _mollahs_ or _kadis_ form the next grade in the Ulema hierarchy. They
are appointed by the Sheikh ul Islam, and are assisted in their functions
by the muftis and other officials.
The avarice and venality of this body of men are among the worst
features of Turkish legislature. Few judges are free from the reproach
of partiality and corruption. Their verdicts, delivered nominally in
accordance with Koranic law, are often gross misinterpretations of the
law, and the _fetvahs_ or sentences in which they are expressed are
given in a sense that complicates matters to such a degree as to render
a revisal of the case useless, and redress hopeless, unless the pleader
is well backed by powerful protectors, or can afford to spend vast sums
in bribes—when, perhaps, he may sometimes, after much trouble and delay,
obtain justice.
The Kadi Asker of Roumelia and the Kadi Asker of Anatolia come next in
rank as supreme judges; the former of Turkey in Europe, and the latter of
Turkey in Asia; they sit in the same court of justice as the Sheikh ul
Islam.
This Sheikh ul Islam, or Grand Mufti of the capital, is the spiritual
chief of Islam and the head of the legislature. He is appointed by the
Sultan, who installs him in his functions with a long pelisse of sable.
The Sultan can deprive him of his office, but not of life so long as he
holds his title, nor can he confiscate his property when in disgrace.
The chief function of the Grand Mufti is to interpret the Koran in all
important cases. His decisions are laconic, often consisting of “Yes”
or “No.” His opinions, delivered in accordance with the Koran, are not
backed by motive.
In instances of uncertainty he has a way of getting out of the difficulty
by adding “God is the best judge.” His decrees are called _fetvahs_, and
he signs himself, in the common formula, “the poor servant of God.” He
is assisted in his functions by a secretary called the _fetvah eminé_,
who in cases of minor importance directs the pleas and presents them all
ready for the affixing of the mufti’s seal.
The influence of the Sheikh ul Islam is great, and powerful for good
or harm to the nation, according to his character, and the amount of
justice and honesty he may display in his capacity of Head of Islam and
supreme judge. This influence, however, being strictly Mohammedan, and
based on rigid religious dogmas, cannot be expected to carry with it that
spirit of tolerance and liberality which a well regulated government
must possess in all branches of the administrative and executive power.
Instances, however, in which Sheikhs ul Islam have shown strict honesty,
justice, and even a certain amount of enlightened tolerance, have not
been unfrequent in the annals of Turkey, in the settlement of disputes
between Mussulmans and non-Mussulmans.
I have heard several curious stories about the Grand Muftis of this
century. Whilst Lord Stratford was ambassador at Constantinople, one of
the secretaries had an audience with the Sheikh ul Islam, who at the
moment of his visitor’s entrance was engaged in the performance of his
_namaz_. The secretary sat down while the devotee finished his prayers,
which were ended by an invocation to Allah to forgive a suppliant true
believer the sin of holding direct intercourse with a Giaour. His
conscience thus relieved, the old mufti rose from his knees and smilingly
welcomed his guest. But this guest, who was a great original, in his turn
begged permission to perform his devotions. He gravely went through an
Arabic formula, and ended by begging Allah to forgive a good Christian
the crime of visiting a “faithless dog of an infidel.” The astonished old
mufti was nettled, but with true Oriental imperturbability he bore the
insult.
A late Grand Mufti was greatly respected, and appealed to from all
directions for the settlement of new and old lawsuits, which he is said
to have wound up with strict impartiality and justice; but at the same
time he always urged upon the disputants the advantages of coming to an
amicable arrangement.
One of his friends, observing that this advice systematically
accompanied the winding-up of the case, asked the dignitary why, being
sure of having delivered a just sentence, he recommended this friendly
arrangement? “Because,” said the mufti, “the world nowadays is so
corrupt, and the use of false witnesses so common, that I believe in the
honesty of none; and my conscience is free when I have obtained something
in favor of the loser as well as the winner.”
From the time of the annexation of Egypt and Syria by Selim the
Inflexible, the title of Khalif, or Vicar of God, was assumed by the
Turkish Sultan; but although this title gives him the power of a complete
autocrat, no Sultan can be invested with the Imperial dignity unless
the Mollah of Konia, a descendant of the Osmanjiks, and by right of his
descent considered holy, comes to Constantinople, and girds the future
sovereign with the sword of Othman; on the other hand, a Sultan cannot be
deposed unless a Fetvah of the Sheikh ul Islam decrees his deposition,
or, if by consent of the nation, his death.
Such, then, are the Ulema—the clergy, so to speak, of the Established
Church of Islam in Turkey. They are the ultra-conservative party in the
nation in things political as well as things religious. “Let things
be,” is the motto of the Sheikh ul Islam and his most insignificant
Kadi. It is not surprising that this should be so. Trained in the meagre
curriculum of the Medressé, among the dry bones of traditional Moslem
theology, it would be astonishing if these men were aught but narrow,
ignorant, bigoted; and chained in the unvarying circle of the Ulema world
they have no chance of forgetting the teaching of their youth. But this
does not explain the fact that nine out of ten Moslem judges are daily
guilty of injustice and the taking of bribes.
The Ulema entertain a cordial hatred for the dervishes, whose orthodoxy
they deny, and whose influence over the State and the people alike they
dread. The dervish’s title to reverence does not, like his rival’s, rest
upon his learning and his ability to misinterpret the Koran; it rests
on his supposed inspiration. On this ground, as well as on account of
his reputed power of working miracles, and the general eccentricity
of his life, he is regarded by the people with extreme veneration.
His sympathies, moreover, are with the masses; ofttimes he spends his
life in succoring them; whilst his scorn for the wealthy and reputable
knows no bounds. Hence the people believe in the dervishes in spite of
the ridicule and persecution of the Ulema; and even the higher classes
become infected with this partly superstitious veneration, and seek to
gain the dervish’s blessing and to avoid his curse; and often a high
dignitary has turned pale at the stern denunciation of the wild-looking
visionary who does not fear to say his say before the great ones of the
land. Sultan Mahmoud was once crossing the bridge of Galata when he was
stopped by a dervish called “the hairy sheikh.” “Giaour Padishah,” he
cried, in a voice shaken with fury, seizing the Sultan’s bridle, “art
thou not yet content with abomination? Thou wilt answer to God for all
thy godlessness! Thou art destroying the institutions of thy brethren;
thou revilest Islam and drawest the vengeance of the Prophet upon thyself
and us.” The Sultan called to his guards to clear “the fool” out of the
way. “I a fool!” screamed the dervish. “It is thou and thy worthless
counsellors who have lost your senses! To the rescue, Moslems! The Spirit
of God, who hath anointed me, and whom I serve, urges me to proclaim the
truth, with the promise of the reward of the saints.” The next day the
visionary was put to death; but it was declared that the following night
a soft light was shed over his tomb, which is still venerated as that of
a saint.
But it needed a bold man like the reformer-Sultan to put a noisy fanatic
to death; and even in his case the wisdom, as well as the humanity, of
the act may be questioned. Most grandees would think twice before they
offended a dervish. For popular credulity accords to these strange men
extraordinary powers—the gift of foreknowledge, the power of working
miracles, and of enduring privations and sufferings beyond the limits of
ordinary human endurance; and, not least, these enthusiasts are believed
to have the power of giving people good or evil wishes, which never fail
to come to pass, and which no human action can resist.
In spite of this apparently fanatical and charlatan character, there
is much that is liberal and undogmatical about the dervishes. I have
certainly met with many broad-minded, tolerant men among the sheikhs of
their orders, and have been struck by the charm of their conversation no
less than their enlightened views and their genuine good-will towards
mankind.
On the other hand, though asceticism is part of the dervish’s creed,
and though there be among them really honest and great men, it must be
admitted that a good many dervishes entertain not the faintest scruples
about intoxication and a good many other pleasures which do not seem very
strictly in accordance with their vows. Among the wandering dervishes
many savage and thoroughly bad characters are to be met with. They roam
from country to country; climate, privation, hardships of all kinds,
deter them not; they come from all lands and they go to all lands, but
those of Persia and Bokhara surpass the rest in cunning, fanaticism, and
brutality. There is no vice into which some of them do not plunge; and
all the time they display a revolting excess of religious zeal, couched
in the foulest and most abusive vocabulary their language affords.
One of these wretches once stopped my carriage under the windows of the
Governor’s house at Monastir, and before the kavass had time to interfere
he had jumped in and was vociferating “Giaour” and a host of other
invectives in my face. It was lucky the guard was near and prompt in
arresting him. Next day he was packed out of the town for the fourth time.
Notwithstanding their vices, nothing can exceed the veneration in
which the dervishes are held by the public, over whom they exercise an
irresistible influence. This influence is especially made use of in time
of war, when a motley company of sheikhs and fanatical dervishes join
the army, and encourage the officers and men by rehearsing the benefits
promised by the Prophet to all who fight or die for the true faith. The
voices of these excited devotees may be heard crying, “O ye victorious!”
“O ye martyrs!” or “Yallah!” Some of these men are fearful fanatics,
who endeavor by every means in their power to stimulate the religious
zeal of the troops and of the nation. Every word they utter is poison to
public peace. Among the numerous gangs of infatuated zealots that spread
themselves over the country just before the outbreak of the troubles in
Bulgaria, there was one wandering dervish who specially distinguished
himself by the pernicious influence his prophecies and adjurations
obtained over the minds of the Mohammedan population, exciting them
against their Christian neighbors, who were completely “terrorized” by
his denunciations.
The venerable Bishop of the town of L⸺ related to me the visit he had
received from this dangerous individual, and assured me that this fanatic
was in some measure the cause of the lamentable events that followed.
He first appeared in the town of X⸺, where, after preaching his death
mission among the Mohammedans a few days before the Greek Easter, he
walked up to the quarter of the town occupied by some of the principal
Christian families, and knocking at each door entered and announced to
the inmates that Allah had revealed to him His pleasure and His decrees
for the destruction of the infidels within the third day of Easter. On
reaching the dwelling of the Bishop he requested a personal interview,
and made the same declaration to him.
The Bishop, with some of the leading inhabitants, alarmed at this
threatening speech, proceeded at once to the Governor-General, and
related the incident to him. The dervish was sent for, and, in the
presence of the Bishop and his companions, asked if he had said what was
reported of him, and what he meant by such an assertion. The dervish
merely shrugged his shoulders, and said that he was in his _hal_, or
ecstatic state, and could not therefore be answerable for what he talked
about. The Pasha sent him under escort to the town of A⸺, with a letter
to the governor of that place requesting his exile to Broussa; but the
wily ascetic soon managed to escape the surveillance of the police of A⸺,
and continued his mission in other parts of Bulgaria.
It is impossible here to enter into details as to the constitution of
the various dervish orders (of which there are many), or the tenets held
by them, or the ceremonies of initiation and of worship. Still, a few
words are necessary about the two or three leading orders of dervishes
in Turkey. The most graceful are the Mevlevi, or revolving dervishes,
with their sugar-loaf hats, long skirts, and loose _jubbés_. Once or
twice a week public service is performed at the Mevlevi Khané, to which
spectators are admitted. The devotions begin by the recital of the usual
_namaz_, after which the sheikh proceeds to his _pistiki_, or sheepskin
mat, and raising his hands offers with great earnestness the prayer to
the _Pir_, or spirit of the founder of the order, asking his intercession
with God on behalf of the order. He then steps off his _pistiki_ and bows
his head with deep humility towards it, as if it were now occupied by his
_Pir_; then, in slow and measured step, he walks three times round the
Semar Khané, bowing to the right and left with crossed toes as he passes
his seat, his subordinates following and doing the same. This part of
the ceremony (called the Sultan Veled Devri) over, the sheikh stands on
the _pistiki_ with bowed head, while the brethren in the _mutrib_, or
orchestra, chant a hymn in honor of the Prophet, followed by a sweet and
harmonious performance on the flute.
The Semar Zan, director of the performance, proceeds to the sheikh, who
stands on the edge of his _pistiki_, and, after making a deep obeisance,
walks to the centre of the hall, and gives a signal to the other
brethren, who let fall their _tennouris_, take off their _jubbés_, and
proceed in single file with folded arms to the sheikh, kiss his hand,
receive in return a kiss on their hats, and there begin whirling round,
using the left foot as a pivot while they push themselves round with the
right. Gradually the arms are raised upwards and then extended outwards,
the palm of the right hand being turned up and the left bent towards the
floor. With closed eyes and heads reclining towards the right shoulder
they continue turning, muttering the inaudible _zikr_, saying, “Allah,
Allah!” to the sound of the orchestra and the chant that accompanies it,
ending with the exclamation, “O friend!” when the dancers suddenly cease
to turn. The sheikh, still standing, again receives the obeisance of the
brethren as they pass his _pistiki_, and the dance is renewed. When it is
over, they resume their seats on the floor, and are covered with their
_jubbés_. The service ends with a prayer for the Sultan.
The whole of the ceremony is extremely harmonious and interesting: the
bright and variegated colors of the dresses, the expert and graceful way
in which the dervishes spin round, bearing on their faces at the same
time a look of deep humility and devotion, together with the dignified
attitude and movements of the sheikh, combine to form a most impressive
sight.
Equally curious are the Rifa’i, or howling dervishes. They wear a mantle
edged with green, a belt in which are lodged one or three big stones, to
compress the hunger to which a dervish is liable, and a white felt hat
marked with eight grooves (_terks_), each denoting the renunciation of
a cardinal sin. In their devotions they become strangely excited, their
limbs become frightfully contorted, their faces deadly pale; then they
dance in the most grotesque manner, howling meanwhile; cut themselves
with knives, swallow fire and swords, burn their bodies, pierce their
ears, and finally swoon. A sacred word whispered by two elders of the
order brings the unconscious men round, and their wounds are healed by
the touch of the sheikh’s hand, moistened from his mouth. It is strange
and horrible to witness the ceremonies of this order; but in these
barbarous performances the devout recognize the working of the Divine
Spirit.
But the order which is admitted to be the most numerous and important in
Turkey is that of the _Bektashis_. Like all dervish orders, they consider
themselves the first and greatest religious sect in the universe; and for
this they have the following excellent reason. One day their founder,
Hadji Bektash, and some of his followers were sitting on a wall, when
they saw a rival dervish approaching them, mounted upon a roaring lion,
which he chastised by means of a serpent which he held in his hand as a
whip. The disciples marvelling at this, Hadji Bektash said: “My brothers,
there is no merit in riding a lion; but there is merit in making the wall
on which we are sitting advance towards the lion, and stop the way of the
lion and its rider.” Whereupon the wall marched slowly upon the enemy,
carrying Hadji Bektash and his followers against the lion-rider, who saw
nothing for it but to acknowledge the supremacy of the rival sheikh.
The Bektashis are followers of the Khalif Ali, and attribute to him and
his descendants all the extravagant qualities which the Alides have from
time to time invented. These dervishes have also many superstitious
beliefs connected with their girdle, cap, and cloak. One ceremony with
the stone worn in the girdle is rather striking. The sheikh puts it in
and out seven times, saying, “I tie up greediness and unbind generosity.
I tie up anger and unbind meekness. I tie up ignorance and unbind the
fear of God. I tie up passion and unbind the love of God. I tie up the
devilish and unbind the divine.”
The special veneration of the Khalif Ali by this order renders it
particularly hateful to the orthodox Mussulmans; and yet, strange to say,
it acquired great popularity in the Ottoman Empire, especially among the
Janissaries, who when first formed into a corps were blessed by Hadji
Bektash in person. The new troops are said to have been led by Sultan
Orkhan into the presence of the sheikh near Amassia, when the Sultan
implored his benediction, and the gift of a standard and a flag for his
new force. The sheikh, stretching out one of his arms over the head of
a soldier, with the end of the sleeve hanging down behind, blessed the
corps, calling it _yenicheri_, the “new troop,” prophesying at the same
time that “its figure shall be fair and shining, its arm redoubtable,
its sword cutting, and its arrows steeled. It shall be victorious in
all battles, and only return triumphant.” A pendant representing the
sleeve of the sheikh was added to the felt cap of the Janissaries
in commemoration of the benediction of Hadji Bektash. Most of the
Janissaries were incorporated into the order of Bektashis, and formed
that formidable body of men, who, adding the profession of the monk to
the chivalrous spirit of the warrior, may be considered the Knights
Templars of Islam.
During the reign of Sultan Mahmoud II. the destruction of the Janissaries
was followed by the persecution of the Bektashis, for whom the orthodox
Mohammedans of the present day entertain a sovereign contempt.
The votaries of the Bektashi order in European Turkey are most numerous
among the Albanians, where they are said to number over 80,000. A few
years ago they were subjected to persecutions, which seem to have been
caused by the little regard they displayed for the forms of orthodox
Islam, from which they widely deviate. The point that gives special
offence to the Turk is the little attention paid by the wives of these
sectarians to the Mussulman laws of _namekhram_ (concealment), with which
they all dispense when the husband gives them permission to appear before
his friends. Polygamy is only practised among Albanian Bektashis when the
first wife has some defect or infirmity.
There is much that is virtuous and liberal in the tenets of this order,
but very little of it is put into practice. This neglect is proved by
the disordered and unscrupulous lives often led by Bektashis, and is
accounted for by the existence of two distinct paths they feel equally
authorized to follow: one leading to the performance of all the duties
and virtues prescribed, and the other in which they lay these aside and
follow the bent of their own natural inclinations.
Some of the principal monasteries of the Bektashis are to be found
in Asia Minor in the vilayet of Broussa. A Greek gentleman of my
acquaintance had strange adventures in one of their settlements at M⸺,
where his roving disposition had led him to purchase an estate. After
living for some years among this half-savage set, he became a great
favorite, was received into their order, and finally elected as their
chief, when he was presented with the emblematic stones of the order,
which he wore on his person. One day, however, he narrowly escaped paying
dearly for the honor.
A herd of pigs belonging to him escaped from the farm, and took the
road to the _Tekké_, into which they rushed, while the congregation
were assembled for their devotions. The excited animals, grunting and
squealing, mingled wildly with the devotees, profaning the sacred edifice
and its occupants by their detested presence. The Bektashis sprang to
their feet, and with one accord cried out to the owner of the unclean
animals to ask if, in consequence of his infidel origin, he had played
this trick upon them, and declaring that if it were so he should pay the
forfeit with his life. The Bektashi sheikh displayed remarkable presence
of mind at this critical moment. Rising to his feet, he looked round,
assumed an attitude and expression of deep devotion, and in an inspired
voice exclaimed, “Oh, ye ignorant and benighted brethren, see ye not
that these swine, enlightened from on high, are impelled to confess the
true faith and to join us in our worship? Let them pass through the
ordeal, and tax not a creature of Allah with the effecting of an event
for which He alone is responsible.” Strange to say, this explanation
satisfied the devotees. It illustrates curiously the peculiar character
of the dervishes, their faith in their sheikhs, and their belief in
extraordinary inspiration.
The ceremonies of Islam are observed in Turkey in much the same way as
in other Moslem countries. On Friday all good, and most indifferent,
Mohammedans go to the mosque for the public prayer; but of course there
is no touch of Sabbatarianism among the Turks any more than among any
other followers of Mohammed. In most mosques women are admitted to a
retired part of the edifice; but it is only elderly ladies who go. In
some mosques at Stamboul, where the women’s department is partitioned
off, the attendance is larger, especially during Ramazan. Last year
I went dressed as a Turkish lady to the evening prayer during the
fast. It was a strange sight to me, and the excitement was increased
by the knowledge of the unpleasant consequences that would follow the
penetration of my disguise. The Turkish women seemed out of place there:
their levity contrasted markedly with the grave bearing of the men on the
other side of the partition. The view I thus obtained of the beautiful
mosque of Sultan Ahmet was singularly impressive. The Ulema, in their
green and white turbans and graceful robes, absorbed in the performance
of their religious duties; officers in bright uniforms, and civilians in
red fez and black coat, side by side with wild-looking dervishes and the
common people in the varied and picturesque costumes of the different
nations, all knelt in rows upon the soft carpets, or went through the
various postures of that religion before which all men are equal. Not
a whisper disturbed the clear melodious voice of the old Hodja as he
pronounced the Terravi prayers, which the congregation took up in chorus,
now prostrating their faces on the ground, now slowly rising: you could
fancy it a green corn-field, studded with poppies, billowing under the
breeze. Above were the numberless lamps that shone in the stately dome.
You can give no higher praise to a Turk than saying that he performs
his five prayers a-day. In right of this qualification young men of no
position and as little merit are often chosen as sons-in-law by pious
people. A Turk of the old school is proud of his religion, and is never
ashamed of letting you see it. So long as he can turn his face towards
Mekka, he will say his prayers anywhere. The Turks like to say their
_namaz_ in public, that they may have praise of men; and it is to be
feared that a good deal of hypocrisy goes on in this matter. This,
however, is on the decrease, because fewer Turks in all classes say their
prayers or observe the outward forms of religion than formerly. This is
no doubt partly due to the influence of “Young Turkey,” though other
causes are also at work.
But the orthodox Turk must do more than observe the prayers. The fast
of Ramazan is a very important part of his religious routine. Every one
knows this terrible month of day-fasting and night-feasting. It tells
most severely on the poor, who keep it strictly, and are compelled to
work during the day exactly as when not fasting. Women also of all
classes observe the fast religiously. But there are very few among the
higher officials, or the gentlemen who have enrolled themselves under
the banner of _La Jeune Turquie_, who take any notice of it, except in
public, where they are obliged to show outward respect to the prejudices
of the people.
This fast-month is a sort of revival-time to the Moslems. They are
supposed to devote more time to the careful study of the Koran and to the
minute practice of its ordinances. Charity, peacefulness, hospitality,
almsgiving, are among the virtues which they specially cultivate at this
time; and though the theory is not put in practice to the letter, and
hospitality not carried out as originally intended—the rich man standing
at his door at sunset, bringing in and setting at his table all the poor
that happened to pass by, and sending them away with presents of money—it
is still very largely practised.
I have often partaken of an _Iftar_, or Ramazan dinner. It is very
curious to observe the physiognomy of the _Terriakis_, or great smokers
and coffee-drinkers, who, as the moment of indulgence approaches, become
restless and cross, now sighing for the firing of the gun that proclaims
the fast at an end, now indulging in bad language to the people who
gather round and tease them. As the sun approaches the horizon, a tray
is brought in laden with all sorts of sweets, salads, salt fish, Ramazan
cakes, fruit and olives, contained in the tiniest coffee-saucers,
together with goblets of delicious iced sherbet. When the gun is fired
every one utters a _Bismillah_ and takes an olive, that fruit being
considered five times more blessed than water to break the fast with.
After the contents of the tray have been sparingly partaken of, dinner
is announced, and all gather round the _sofra_; few, however, eat with
appetite, or relish the dinner half so much as they do the cup of coffee
and cigarettes that follow.
During Ramazan night is turned into day, and the streets then remind one
of carnival time in Catholic countries. The wealthy sit up all night,
receiving and returning calls, giving evening parties, spending the time
in a round of feasts and entertainments. At Stamboul, when the prayer
of the _Terravi_—which is recited two hours after sunset—is over in
the mosque, all the people betake themselves to the esplanade of the
Sulimanieh, and hundreds of elegant carriages containing Turkish beauties
may be seen cutting their way through the dense crowd of promenaders.
The bazars are illuminated, and all the fruit and refreshment shops
are open. Eating, drinking sherbet, and smoking, is the order of the
evening, besides a great amount of flirtation. I cannot say that there is
much taste or refinement in this unusual but tacitly recognized passing
intercourse. The ladies all appear in high spirits, and tolerate, and
even seem amused by, the acts of gross impertinence to which they are
subjected by male passers-by. Some of the fast men and _mauvais sujets_
indulge in acts and language that would certainly obtain the interference
of the police in an orderly society.
I accompanied some friends, the family of one of the ministers, to this
evening entertainment. We had six servants round the carriage, but they
were no protection against the heaps of rubbish in the shape of lighted
cigarette ends, parched peas, capsicums, and fruit of all kinds thrown
into it, not to speak of the licentious little speeches addressed to us
by passing beaux. My friends advised me to be on my guard, as action
is often added to word, and the arms and hands of the occupants of
the vehicles made to smart from the liberties taken with them. Thus
forewarned, I took care to shut the window on my side of the carriage;
a little scream from my companions every now and then, when we found
ourselves in the densest part of the crowd, followed by a shower of abuse
from the negress sitting opposite us, showed that my precaution had not
been needless. The little respect paid to women in this indiscriminate
_mêlée_, where the dignity of the Sultana was no more regarded than the
modesty of the lowly pedestrian, struck me forcibly. It made the greater
impression upon me as it contrasted strongly with the respect paid to her
under other circumstances. In steam-boats, for example, an unattended
Turkish woman is seldom known to be insulted, even when her conduct gives
provocation.
Three hours before dawn, drums are beaten and verses sung through the
streets to warn the people to prepare for the _sahor_, or supper, after
which an hour’s leisure is accorded for smoking and coffee-drinking,
when the firing of a gun announces the moment for rinsing the mouth and
sealing it against food till sunset. All business is put off by the
wealthy during the day, which is filled up by sleep; while the poor go
through the day’s work unrefreshed.
Pilgrimages, though less practised now than formerly in Turkey, are
still considered the holiest actions of a Mohammedan’s life. The most
perfect is the one embracing the visit to the four sacred spots of
Islam—Damascus, Jerusalem, Mekka, and Medina; but the long journey that
this would entail, the dangers and difficulties that surround it, are
checks upon all but the most zealous of pilgrims, and only a few hardy
and enterprising individuals perform the duty in full. The pilgrims,
collected from all parts of the country, leave Constantinople in a body
fifteen days before the fast of Ramazan. The Government facilitates
this departure by giving free passages and other grants. Those pilgrims
that go _viâ_ Damascus are the bearers of the Imperial presents to the
holy shrines. Every Hadji on returning from Mekka bears a token of
his pilgrimage in a tattoo mark on his arm and between his thumb and
forefinger.
I cannot close a chapter on Islam in Turkey without referring to a belief
which, though but vaguely introduced into the original faith of Mohammed,
has come to mean everything to the Turk. I mean _Kismet_. It is not,
of course, the belief in an inevitable destiny that is remarkable: all
nations have their share in that, and modern Christianity has sometimes
carefully formulated the doctrine of the fatalist. It is rather the
intensity of the Turk’s belief, and his dogged insistance on its logical
results, that make it so extraordinary. Many people besides Turks believe
in destiny, but their belief does not prevent them from consulting their
doctor or avoiding infection. With the Turk all such precautions are
vain: if it is kismet that a thing shall happen, happen it will, and
what then is the good of trying to avert it? Everything in Turkey is
controlled by kismet. If a man suffers some trifling loss, it is kismet;
if he die, it is also kismet. He marries by kismet, and shortly divorces
his wife by the same influence. He succeeds in life, or he fails: it is
kismet. Sultans succeed one another—again kismet. Armies go forth to
conquer or to be conquered—Fate rules the event. It is useless to fight
against the decrees of kismet. That Fate helps him who helps himself is
a doctrine incomprehensible to the Turk. He lies passive in the hand of
destiny: it would be impious to rebel.
The effects of this doctrine lie on the surface. Not only are lives
constantly sacrificed, and wealth and happiness lost by this fatal
principle of passivity, but the whole character of the nation is
enfeebled. The Turk has no rightful ambition: if it is kismet he should
succeed, well and good; but if not, no efforts of his own can avail him.
Hence he smokes his chibouk and makes no efforts at all. Something might
be done with him if he would only show some energy of character; but this
doctrine has sapped that energy at the root, and there is no vitality
left.
This is the main disastrous result of fatalism: it has destroyed the
vigor of a once powerful nation. But every day brings forth instances
of lesser evils flowing from the same source. It is hardly necessary to
point out in how many ways a fatalist injures himself and all belonging
to him. One or two common cases will be enough. I have already referred
to the neglect of all sanitary precautions as one of the results of the
belief in kismet. This neglect is shown in a thousand ways; but one or
two instances that I remember may point the moral. Turkey is especially
liable to epidemics, and of course the havoc they create is terrible
among a passive population. In all district towns the Turks manifest the
greatest possible dislike and opposition to every species of quarantine:
they regard quarantine regulations as profane interference with the
decrees of God, and systematically disregard them. The doctor of the
first quarantine establishment at Broussa was assaulted in the street by
several hundred Turkish women, who beat him nearly to death, from which
he was only saved by the police. Small-pox is among the most fatal of
the scourges that invade the people, and Turkish children are frequently
victims to it; yet it is with the utmost difficulty that a Turk can be
induced to vaccinate his child, though, happily, the precaution is now
more practised than it used to be.
Separation in sickness is another of the measures Turks can never be
made to take. A short time ago a girl of fourteen, the daughter of our
_kavass_, was seized with an attack of quinsy. As soon as I heard of it
I begged our doctor to accompany me to the Mohammedan quarter and visit
the invalid. We found her lying on a clean _shelté_, or mattress, on the
floor, which was equally occupied by her young brothers and sisters,
who were playing round and trying to amuse her. The doctor’s first care
was to send away the children, and recommend that they should on no
account be allowed to come near her, as her throat was in a most terrible
condition. Both parents declared that it would be impossible to keep them
away; besides, if it was their kismet to be also visited by the disease,
nothing could avert it. The room occupied by the sick girl was clean and
tidy; the doors and windows, facing the sea, fronted by a veranda, were
open, and the house being situated in the highest part of the town, under
the ruins of the old walls, the sharp April air was allowed free access
to the chamber most injuriously to the invalid. On the attention of the
parents being drawn to the fact, they simply answered that the feverish
state of the child needed the cool air to such an extent that twice
during the preceding night she had left her room and gone down to the
yard to repose upon the cold stone slabs in order to cool herself!
In spite of every effort to save her, she died on the third night from
exhaustion caused by her refusal to take the medicines and nourishment
provided for her, and to be kept in her chamber, which she had abandoned,
taking up her quarters on the balcony, where we saw her on the last
day. On visiting the family after the sad event, we found the unhappy
parents distracted with sorrow, but still accepting it with fatalistic
resignation, saying that “her _edjel_ had come to call her away from
among the living.”
Our attention was next attracted by three of the children. The youngest,
a baby, appeared choking from the effects of the same complaint, and
died the same night. The other two, a boy and girl, also attacked,
were playing about, although in high fever and with dreadfully swollen
throats. The doctor begged that they should be sent to bed, to which they
both refused to submit, while the parents phlegmatically said that it
would be a useless measure, as they could not be kept there, and that if
it should be their kismet to recover they would do so. I am glad to say
they did recover, though I am afraid their recovery did not convert the
doctor and me to a belief in kismet.
Owing to this fatal and general way of treating sickness, the
prescriptions of physicians, neither believed in nor carried out, are
useless; besides, they are always interfered with and disputed by quacks
and old women, and the muskas, prayers, and blowings of saintly Hodjas.
When the patient survives this extraordinary combination of nursing, it
is simply stated that his _edjel_ or death-summons has not yet arrived.
If a man die away from his home and country, his kismet is supposed to
have summoned him to die on the spot that received his body.
Kismet thus being the main fountain whence the Mohammedan draws with
equanimity both the good and the evil it may please Providence to pour
forth upon him, he receives both with the stoicism of the born-and-bred
fatalist, who looks upon every effort of his own to change the decrees
of destiny as vain and futile. Hence he becomes _Moslem_, or “resigned,”
in the most literal sense. His character gains that quality of inertness
which we associate with the Oriental, and his nation becomes, what a
nation cannot become and live—stagnant.