influence in the Mohammedan world was declining. They have seen that
beyond their own dominions the Caliph has no real authority; that
whatever influence they have depends upon the strength of their own
empire. Abd-ul-Medjid and Abd-ul-Aziz seem to have had a pretty clear
conception of their weakness, and of the necessity of restoring the
vitality of the Ottoman empire, by the introduction of radical reforms.
There is no reason to suppose that the Hatt-i-houmayoun and the other
innumerable Hatts issued by these Sultans, were all intended simply to
blind the eyes of Europe. None knew better than they that the empire
must be reformed or lost. But they were Caliphs as well as Sultans, and
what they would do as Sultans they could not do as Caliphs. The very
nature of their claims to the Caliphate made them more timid. They could
not execute the reforms which they promised, without encountering the
opposition of the whole body of the Ulema, the most powerful and the
best organized force in the empire. If they could have saved their
empire by resigning the Caliphate, they might possibly have been willing
to do it; but they were made to believe that in surrendering the
Caliphate they would lose the support of the only part of the nation
upon which they could fully depend. So they hesitated, promising much
and doing little, raising hopes on one side which could never be
forgotten, and raising fears on the other which they could not allay;
seeing clearly the need of reform, but seeing no way in which to
accomplish it. They could decide upon nothing, and drifted on until
Abd-ul-Aziz was deposed and assassinated by his own ministers, and the
empire was on the verge of ruin.
The next Sultan was overwhelmed by the burdens which fell upon him, and
in a few months was deposed as a lunatic. Sultan Hamid came to the
throne under these trying circumstances, and it seemed for a time that
he might be the last of the Sultans. He was but little known, as he had
been forced to live in retirement, and it was supposed that he would
follow meekly in the steps of his predecessors; but it very soon became
evident to those about him that he had a mind and a will of his
own--more than this, that he had a policy which he was determined to
carry out. A Sultan with a fixed policy was a new thing, and to this day
Europe is somewhat sceptical about it; but it very soon became apparent
to close observers at Constantinople. Sultan Hamid was determined to be
first of all the Caliph, the Imam-ul-Mussilmin, and to sacrifice all
other interests to this. His education had been exclusively religious,
and in his retirement he had lived a serious life, associating much with
the Ulema, who, no doubt, pointed out to him the vacillating policy of
his predecessors, and the danger that there was that the Caliphate and
the empire would be lost together. He determined to strengthen his
empire by restoring the influence of the Caliphate, and rallying the
Mohammedan world once more around the throne of Othman. Judged from a
European standpoint, this policy is at once reactionary and suicidal. It
ignores the fact that the Ottoman empire is dependent for its existence
upon the good-will of Europe; that it has measured its strength with a
single Christian Power, and been utterly crushed in a year. It ignores
the principle that a government can never be strong abroad which is weak
at home. It ignores the history of the last hundred years. It may be
doubted whether it is a policy which can be justified from the
standpoint of Islam. Turkey is the last surviving Mohammedan Power of
any importance. Its influence depends upon its strength, and its
strength upon the prosperity of its people, and this upon a wise and
enlightened administration of the government. It would seem that the
best thing the Sultan could have done for Islam, would have been not to
excite the fears of Europe by the phantom of a Panislamic league, but to
have devoted all his energies to the reformation of his government.
But Sultan Hamid chose the path of Faith rather than of Reason, and,
however we may think the choice unwise, we are bound to treat it with
respect. It is easy to say that it was a mere question of policy, and
very bad policy; it certainly was, but I think we have good reason to
believe that the Sultan was actuated by religious rather than political
motives, that he is a sincere and honest Moslem, and feels that it is
better to trust in God than in the Giaour. I have a sincere respect and
no little admiration for Sultan Hamid. Had he been less a Caliph and
more a Sultan, with his courage, industry, and pertinacity, he might
have done for Turkey what he has failed to do for Islam. He might have
revived and consolidated the empire. It is possible that he may do it
yet, and should he attempt it he will have the sympathy of the world.
But thus far, having transferred the seat of government from the Porte
to the Palace, having secured a declaration from the Ulema that his will
is the highest law, and that as Caliph he needs no advice, he has
sought, first of all, to make his influence felt in every part of the
Mohammedan world, to revive the spirit of Islam, and to unite it in
opposition to all European and Christian influences. Utterly unable to
resist Europe by force of arms, he has sought to outwit her by diplomacy
and finesse. I know of nothing more remarkable in the history of Turkey
than the skill with which he made a tool of Sir Henry Layard. Sir Henry
could not be bought; but he could be flattered and blinded by such
attentions as no Ottoman Sultan ever bestowed upon any Ambassador
before; and to accomplish this object, the Sultan did not hesitate to
ignore all Mohammedan ideas of propriety. His demonstrations of
friendship for Germany is another illustration of his diplomatic skill.
But while ready to yield any point of etiquette to accomplish his ends,
he has resisted to the last every attempt to induce him to do anything
to repress or punish any development of Moslem fanaticism. All Europe
combined could not force him to punish the murderer of Colonel
Coumaroff, the secretary of the Russian Embassy, who was shot down in
the street like a dog by a servant of the Palace; nor, so far as I know,
has he ever suffered a Moslem to be punished for murdering a Christian.
His agents have done their best to rouse the Mohammedans of India and
Central Asia. He has armed the tribes of Northern Africa against France,
and encouraged them to resist to the end. He has given new life to
Mohammedan fanaticism in Turkey. The change from the days of Abd-ul-Aziz
is very marked. The counsellors of the Sultan are no longer the
Ministers, but the astrologers, eunuchs, and holy men of the Palace. No
Mussulman could now change his faith in Constantinople without losing
his life. Firmans can no longer be obtained for Christian churches, and
it is extremely difficult to obtain permission to print a Christian
book, even in a Christian language. The greatest care is taken to seize
books of every description in the Custom House. It is not long since the
Life of Mr. Gladstone was seized as a forbidden book. It is a curious
fact in this connection that the fanaticism of the Government is far in
advance of the fanaticism of the people. There is no fear of the people,
except as they are encouraged and pushed forward by those in authority.
If left to themselves, Turks and Christians would have no difficulty in
living together amicably.
The relation of the Sultan to the rebellion in Egypt is not perfectly
clear, and probably never will be. In one sense he was no doubt the
cause of it. It was a direct result of the agitation which his policy
had roused. But it was not intended by Arabi to strengthen the power of
a Turkish Caliph. It was originally anti-Turkish, and looked to the
revival of the Arab Caliphate, as well as to the personal advantage of
Arabi himself. The Sultan could not oppose it without exciting the
enmity of those whom he most wished to conciliate, so he sought to
control it and turn it to his own advantage. He gave Arabi all possible
aid and support. There is no reason to suppose that Arabi and his
friends were deceived by this; but it was for their interest to avoid a
conflict with the Sultan as long as possible, and to get what aid from
him they could. But for the intervention of England, Arabi would no
doubt have won the game against the Turk. He might even have caused the
downfall of the Sultan; for it is a well-known fact that so great was
the enthusiasm of the Moslems in Syria and Arabia for Arabi, that they
were with difficulty restrained by the Turkish authorities from breaking
out into open rebellion. This spirit had been fostered by the Sultan;
but it naturally turned, not to the Turkish Caliph, but to the
successful Arab adventurer. Even in Asia Minor and Constantinople the
enthusiasm for Arabi was universal, and had he been allowed to triumph
unmolested, it seems probable the Sultan would have been forced either
to unite with him in a crusade against Christendom, or to send an army
to put him down. Either of these courses would have been fatal; for no
Moslem army would have fought against Arabi under such circumstances,
and as against Europe the Sultan could have accomplished nothing.
It is no doubt perfectly legitimate for a Caliph, especially for one
whose title depends upon the strength of his sword, to stir up the
enthusiasm of his people and attract their attention to himself as their
leader. He cannot be blamed for improving every occasion to defend their
rights and interfere in their behalf. If he is strong enough to do so,
it is no doubt in full accord with the example and teaching of the
Prophet that he should lead them against the infidels. It is not strange
that a man of faith should be so dazzled by the possibility of such a
crusade as to forget his own weakness. As he sits in his palace
to-night,[7] and hears the roar of the guns announcing the great
festival of Courban Beiram, and thinks that more than two hundred
millions of the faithful are uniting with him in the sacrifice, and
confessing their faith in the Prophet of whom he claims to be the
successor and representative, it will be strange if he does not dream of
what might be if he could but rally them round his throne; strange if he
does not catch something of the inspiration of the Prophet himself, who,
with God on his side, dared alone to face all Mecca, and with a few
half-naked Arabs to brave the world. There is nothing in the Palace
unfavourable to such a dream as this, and there will be nothing in the
pomp and ceremony of the homage to be paid to him to-morrow morning to
recall him from it. What a contrast it will be to come back from such a
dream of universal dominion, and the triumph of the true faith, to the
discussion of the sixty-first Article of the Treaty of Berlin and the
rights of the Armenians! It is perfectly legitimate for a Caliph to have
such dreams, and perfectly natural for him to prefer to try to realize
them, rather than to give his attention to the reform of his empire; but
without blaming the Caliph we may well doubt whether it is altogether
wise for the Sultan of Turkey to indulge in such dreams.
I believe that it would be better not only for Turkey but for Islam
also, if the Sultan would give up his doubtful title to the Caliphate,
and pass it over to the descendant of the Prophet who is Shereef of
Mecca. As for Turkey, this is the only hope of the empire; and the
experience of the Pope of Rome has made it clear that the loss of
temporal power tends rather to strengthen than to weaken a great
religious organization. There is no inclination in any part of the world
to persecute Mohammedans, or interfere in any way with their faith. Only
a very small minority of them are under the government of the Sultan,
and those who are not enjoy as much religious liberty as those who are.
This is not from fear of the Sultan, but it is in accord with the spirit
of the age, and the manifest interest of other Governments. As a Caliph
cannot by any possibility restore the strength of the Ottoman empire, so
a Sultan of Turkey cannot be the spiritual leader of millions who are
not in any way under his control. I see no reason to suppose that the
transfer of the Caliph to Mecca would in any way weaken the faith of
Moslems or diminish their zeal. Mohammedans in India and in Russia show
no more inclination to abandon their faith than those who reside at
Constantinople under the shadow of the Caliph; on the contrary, there is
more unbelief in Constantinople than there. What is more, there is every
reason to believe that such a transfer would gratify the great majority
of Mohammedans, probably a majority of those living in the Turkish
Empire, certainly all the Arabic-speaking population. In one way or
another this change is sure to come, however it may be resisted by the
Sultan; the very effort that he has made to arouse the spirit of Islam
has made it more apparent than before that he is really powerless to
defend any Mohammedan country against aggression. He could do nothing
for Tunis against France. He could do nothing for Arabi against England.
The very encouragement that he gave in these cases was an injury to
them. The Arabs are all ready to assert their rights to the Caliphate
and defend them against the Sultan. If he does not surrender the title
voluntarily, sooner or later they will take it by force, and that part
of the empire along with it.
The Sultan complains of the interference of Europe in the affairs of his
empire; but, in fact, he owes not only his throne, but his continued
possession of the Caliphate, to their protection. Let it be known in
Mecca to-day that Europe would favour such a change and encourage an
insurrection in Syria and Arabia, and the new Shereef of Mecca would
celebrate the Courban Beiram as Caliph amidst such enthusiasm as has not
been known there for a hundred years.
In spite of all this, however, in spite of the imperfection of his
title, and the coolness or discontent of Mohammedans throughout the
world, in spite of the growing weakness of the empire and his failure to
defend those whom he has encouraged to resist Europe, it is not probable
that Sultan Hamid will voluntarily surrender the Caliphate. Abd-ul-Aziz
might have done it to save his empire, but Sultan Hamid is too religious
a man; he values his title of Imam-ul-Mussilmin too highly to give it up
without a struggle. It is safe to conclude that he will cling to it
until it is taken by force by a stronger man.
I have already mentioned incidentally the relation of Europe to the
Caliphate. England and France are most directly interested in this
question, and hitherto their policy has been to sustain the claims of
the Sultans. They seem to be quite as anxious to maintain the Caliphate
of Constantinople as the Sultans themselves, and its continuance has
been due in great measure to their protection. As the interest of France
in this question is only secondary, I will confine myself to the policy
of England. It is not strange that England, with her Indian Empire and
40,000,000 Mohammedan subjects, should be deeply interested in the
question of the Caliphate. It must be a question of vital importance to
her whether it is better for the peace of India to have the Caliphate in
the hands of a temporal sovereign at Constantinople or of a Shereef of
Mecca in Arabia. So long as she was in close alliance with the Sultan,
and her influence at Constantinople was supreme, there could not be any
doubt on this subject, for a Caliph at Mecca would be practically beyond
her reach; but since the Crimean war English influence has seldom been
paramount at Constantinople. Still, English statesmen have probably
reasoned that, even if he were decidedly unfriendly, it was better to
have a Caliph who had something to lose, and who, on occasion, could be
reached by a British fleet and bombarded in his palace, than one in the
deserts of Arabia, who could not be reached by pressure of any kind,
either diplomatic or military, who might proclaim a holy war without
fear of being called to account for it. There is always a great
practical advantage in dealing with a responsible person. Then, again,
the late Sultans have manifested no inclination to rouse the fanaticism
of Mohammedans against Christendom. They have been only anxious that
Christendom should forget them, and leave them to manage their own
affairs in their own way. Under these circumstances no English interest
has demanded the consideration of the question of the Caliphate. It is a
religious question which no Christian Government could wish to take up
unless forced to do so. Whatever the Turks may believe, it is certain
that no European Power has any inclination to enter upon a crusade
against the Mohammedan religion. Even the Pope of Rome, who in former
days decreed crusades against the Moslem, is now on terms of the most
friendly intimacy with the Caliph. England not only carefully protects
the rights of Mohammedans in India, but she has used all her influence
for years to strengthen the Ottoman Empire and discourage all agitation
against the Caliphate of the Sultan.
Such has been the policy of the past. But circumstances have changed,
and long-cherished hopes have been disappointed. The effort to reform
and strengthen the Turkish empire has failed chiefly because the Sultans
have been unwilling or unable to abandon the strictly religious
constitution of the Government, and to distinguish between their duties
as Caliphs, and their duties as civil rulers over a mixed population of
various sects. This failure has led to most unhappy complications in
Europe, to the dismemberment of European Turkey, and to a great
development of the influence of Russia, the Power most unfriendly to the
existence of the Turkish Empire. It is now clear to all the world that
Turkey cannot be reformed by a Caliph. In addition to this, the present
Sultan, departing from the prudent course of his predecessors, has
undertaken to rouse the hostility of Islam against Christendom, and to
encourage fanatical outbreaks, not only in Africa, but in Asia as well.
As Caliph he is no longer the friendly ally of the Christian Powers,
but, as far as he dares, is acting against them. Under these changed
circumstances the question must arise whether it is any longer for the
interest of England to defend the Caliphate of Constantinople. It is not
a question of deposing one Caliph and setting up another. This is not
the work of a Christian Power. It is for Mohammedans to settle this
question among themselves. If they prefer to continue to recognize the
Sultan as Caliph, they should be free to do so. But the policy of
England has not hitherto been one of neutrality. It has been the active
support of the Sultan. The question now is whether this support should
not be withdrawn, and the Arabs made to understand that if they prefer
an Arab Caliph at Mecca, England will not interfere to prevent it.
This is a very serious question, and the plan is open to the objection
already suggested of the inaccessibility of Mecca. It is also to be
considered that the Arabs are more fanatical and more easily excited
than the Turks. But, on the other hand, it may be doubted whether the
influence of the Shereef of Mecca would be greatly increased by his
assuming the title of Caliph. It would not be recognized by the Turks,
and Constantinople would be even more opposed to Mecca than it is now.
The nature of the new Caliph's influence would be the same that it is
now as Shereef of Mecca--a purely moral influence.
Another thing to be considered is the fact that this is only a question
of time. Sooner or later this change is sure to come. As the power of
the Sultan continues to decline, he will be less and less able to resist
the progress of this Arab movement. It is not easy to see exactly what
England will gain by postponing this change. Certainly not the
friendship of the Arabs. I cannot speak with authority of the feeling in
India; but it is understood that Indian Mohammedans sympathize with the
Arabs rather than the Turks. I cannot presume to give a decided opinion
on this question; but the new responsibilities assumed by the British
Government in Egypt, make it one of immediate practical importance. Are
the real interests of England with the Turk or the Arab?
FOOTNOTES:
[6] We have received this article from a valued correspondent, whose
name, for obvious reasons, is not given.--ED.
[7] The eve of Courban Beiram.
THE BOLLANDISTS:
THE LITERARY HISTORY OF A MAGNUM OPUS.
The majority of educated people have, from time to time, in the course
of their historical reading, come across some mention of the "Acta
Sanctorum," or "Lives of the Saints;" while but few know anything as to
the contents, or authorship, or history of that work. Yet it is a very
great, nay a stupendous monument of what human industry, steadily
directed for ages towards one point, can effect. Industry, directed for
ages, I have said--an expression, which to some must seem almost like a
misprint, but which is quite justified by facts, since the first volume
issued by the company of the Bollandists, is dated Antwerp, 1643; and
the last, Paris, A.D. 1875. Two hundred and forty years have thus
elapsed, and yet the work is not concluded. Indeed, as it has taken
well-nigh two centuries and a half to narrate the lives of the Saints
commemorated in the first ten months of the year, it may easily happen
that the bones of the present generation will all be mingled with the
dust, before those Saints be reached who are celebrated on the 31st of
December. Some indeed--prejudiced by the very name "Acta Sanctorum"--may
be inclined to turn away, with a contempt bred of ignorance, from the
whole subject. But if it were only as a mental and intellectual tonic
the contemplation of these sixty stately folios, embracing about a
thousand pages each, would be a most healthy exercise for the men of
this age. This is the halcyon period of primers, introductions,
handbooks, manuals. "Knowledge made Easy" is the cry on every side. We
take our mental pabulum just as we take Liebig's essence of beef, in a
very concentrated form, or as hom[oe]opathists imbibe their medicine, in
the shape of globules. I do not desire, however, to say one word against
such publications. The great scholars of the seventeenth century, the
Bollandists, Casaubon, Fabricius, Valesius Baluze, D'Achery, Mabillon,
Combefis, Vossius, Canisius, shut up their learning in immense folios,
which failed to reach the masses as our primers and handbooks do,
penetrating the darkness and diffusing knowledge in regions inaccessible
to their more ponderous brethren. But at the same time their majestic
tomes stand as everlasting protests on behalf of real and learned
inquiry, of accurate, painstaking, and often most critical research into
the sources whence history, if worth anything, must be drawn.
I propose in this paper to give an account of the origin, progress,
contents, and value of the work of the Bollandists, regarded as the
vastest repertory of original material for the history of mediæval
times. This immense series is popularly known either as the "Acta
Sanctorum" or the Bollandists. The former is the proper designation. The
latter, however, will suit best as the peg on which we shall hang our
narrative. John Bolland, or Joannes Bollandus as it is in Latin, was the
name of the founder of a Company which, more fortunate than most
literary clubs, has lasted well-nigh three centuries. To him must be
ascribed the honour of initiating the work, drawing the lines and laying
the foundations of a building which has not yet been completed. That
work was one often contemplated but never undertaken on the same
exhaustive principles. Clement, the reputed disciple of the Apostles
Peter and Paul, is reported--in the "Liber Pontificalis" or "Lives of
the Popes;" dating from the early years of the sixth century--to have
made provision for preserving the "Acts of the Martyrs." Apocryphal as
this account seems, yet the honest reader of Eusebius must confess that
the idea was no novel one in the second century, as is manifest from the
well-known letter narrating the sufferings of the martyrs of Lyons and
Vienne. Space would now fail us to trace the development of hagiography
in the Church. Let it suffice to say that century after century, as it
slowly rolled by, contributed its quota both in east and west. In the
east even an emperor, Basil, gave his name to a Greek martyrology; while
in both west and east the writings of Metaphrastes, Mombritius, Surius,
Lipomanus, and Baronius, embalmed abundant legends in many a portly
volume. Still the mind of a certain Heribert Rosweid, a professor at
Douai, a Jesuit and an enthusiastic antiquarian, was not satisfied.
Rosweid was a typical instance of those Jesuits, learned and devout, who
at a great crisis in the battle restored the fallen fortunes of the
Church of Rome. As the original idea of the "Acta Sanctorum" is due to
him, we may be pardoned in giving a brief sketch of his career, though
he was not in strictness a member of the Bollandist Company.