where the work of Turkish artists could be seen, Kadry Bey told them
of the bi-yearly exhibitions which are regularly held in Galata Serai
under the auspices of the Turkish Crown Prince. “His Highness Prince
Abdul Medjid Effendi, heir to the throne of the Sultans and future
Calif of the Muslims, is an accomplished artist himself,” said Kadry.
“He is one of our most active leaders and enjoys a reputation as a
painter even in France. His pictures have been often exhibited at the
Paris Salon and there also a Turkish artist has received the highest
recognition for his work. Only a, short time after the armistice one
of the pictures of our Crown Prince received the gold medal. This is
unquestionably a palpable proof of the artistic value of His Highness's
work as the Committee of the Paris Salon is composed of the greatest
living artists in the world. It is also a splendid illustration of the
saying that art has no country as French artists did not hesitate to
recognize publicly the value of this painting by our Crown Prince so
shortly after the war. If you are in town when the next exhibition is
held at Galata Serai I strongly advise you to visit it. You would see
there pictures by our most prominent artists, as O. Hikmet, M. Refet,
Tchalizade Ibrahim and others, whose works are as good as any of the
modern artists. Most of them follow the classical school and very few
indeed are the Turkish artists who practise post-impressionism and
other extreme styles. You probably would have an opportunity of seeing
at the exhibition the Crown Prince himself as His Highness goes there
practically every day and you would surely be interested in seeing the
democratic way in which he talks and jokes with the other artists.”
Our friends wanted to know something more about the Crown Prince. So
my wife and I told them of the time we had the privilege of hearing a
few of his compositions played by the orchestra of the Imperial Palace.
It was at a charity concert given for the benefit of the Turkish
refugees of Anatolia. Prince Abdul Medjid Effendi was there personally
and although his compositions were not included in the program, the
audience asked and insisted on having them, much to His Highness's
embarrassment. As a true artist the Prince hates publicity and his
activities as a painter or as a composer are not at all meant for
public consumption--as were those of the Kaiser--but simply for his own
satisfaction and for the pleasure of a few privileged friends.
Thus talking, we were visiting the different class-rooms of the
academy. Kadry Bey introduced us to some of the teachers and to one or
two of the most advanced pupils and as we finished our visit he asked
us into the reception room of the manager who, being absent for the
day, had asked him to have us to tea in his place.
As we had to cross the Museum we stopped on our way to admire once more
the famous sarcophagus of Alexander, which is said to have contained
the remains of Alexander the Great of Macedonia and which is the pride
not only of the Museum but also of all Turks. Hamdi Bey, the founder
of the Museum, unearthed it himself in the plains of Anatolia, not
far from Smyrna, and I remember his telling me personally that he was
so excited and exhilarated when he discovered this peerless jewel of
antique art that for two days and one night he and his assistants
worked consecutively without sleep, without food. Finally the second
night arrived and as the delicate work was not yet finished Hamdi Bey
fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, but lying close to the sarcophagus,
in the earth that had hidden it for so many centuries, so that he
could at least feel his priceless find during his sleep.
The present manager of the Imperial Museum is Hamdi Bey's brother and
succeeded him after his death. I had an occasion of meeting him only
a few days ago and the sight of the Sarcophagus of Alexander brings
back to me the recollection of this meeting. I was coming out of the
Sublime Porte with Izzet Pasha, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, when
we met the manager of the Museum, Halil Bey. Izzet Pasha stopped and
addressed him: “I have bad news to give you,” said he, “a powerful
foreign group has approached me to-day and has informed me that it was
willing to pay any price the Government wanted for the Sarcophagus of
Alexander.” Halil Bey was dumbfounded. The prospect of losing the most
cherished possession of his Museum, discovered by his own brother, was
too momentous, too enormous a blow. But his fears were put at rest by
Izzet Pasha when the Minister added with a smile. “I have answered them
that the loss of the Sarcophagus would be considered by the Imperial
Government as great a loss as that of the wealthiest province of the
Empire, Mesopotamia, the historic City of Bagdad and its rich oil
fields not excepted, and that therefore it could never entertain even
the possibility of selling the sarcophagus. No matter how poor we might
be the price to be paid for the possession of the sarcophagus will
always have to be reckoned in corpses on battlefields and not in money
on a counter”! This little incident gives a graphic idea of the degree
of appreciation in which the Turks hold their art treasures.
As we were having tea in the reception room of Halil Bey we talked of
his family and of how much the art renaissance in Turkey owed to them
all. Besides Hamdi Bey, who has left an undying name in the annals of
Turkish history both as the founder of the Imperial Museum and as the
creator of the Art Academy, besides the fact that his brother, Halil
Bey, has followed in his path and is continuing the work undertaken by
him, it is worth mentioning that Hamdi Bey's son is a distinguished
architect to whom is due the beautiful buildings of the Museum and of
the Academy. This distinguished family has unquestionably done more
for the revival of art in Turkey than any one family has done for art
in any other country and it was almost a pleasure that Halil Bey was
not present as we could more freely talk of his services and of those
of his family within the very walls which had been erected by them and
filled by them with treasures discovered through their own initiative
and work.
Our American friends admitted that this visit had thrown a different
light on their conception of art in Turkey and its appreciation by the
Turks, but as they were not satisfied until they had seen some other
art school I took them next day to the Darul-Elhan, the Turkish School
of Music for Girls and we had the good fortune to assist in a most
interesting concert. This school was founded and is being managed by
Senator Zia Pasha, who was Turkish Ambassador in Washington a few years
before the war. It is located in an old palace in the very heart of
Stamboul. Our American friends were quite impressed by the knowledge
that they were to hear and see, in the proper setting where their
ancestors had been recluses, free and emancipated Turkish girls playing
and singing for the benefit of strangers.
To the accompaniment of violins, lutes and longstemmed “tambours” these
Turkish girls with the full knowledge possessed only by accomplished
artists and with the soft, velvety voices so typical of the Orient,
sang and played a selection of the most complicated, classical music
as well as charming little folksongs. Zia Pasha was there himself and
as I introduced him to our friends he expressed the wish that more
foreigners would make it a point, when in Constantinople, to assist at
such concerts: “Perhaps,” said he, “if foreigners studied our music
better its reputation for weirdness and monotony would give place to one
of softness and melody. Perhaps foreigners would even be able to detect
in our music all the accords and measures they relish so much in modern
Russian music such as that of Rimsky Korsakoff, which after all is
nothing more or less than the orchestration of our Oriental music.”
XIII
A GLIMPSE OF ISLAM
The week following our visit to the Darul-Elhan and the concert which
was given there, I had an opportunity to arrange a meeting for our
American friends with the leader of one of our Muslim sects, Hassan
Effendi, who had been described to me as one of the most advanced and
broadminded theologians of Islam. A friend of mine who was a follower
of Hassan Effendi was to take us to his house and we were to go there
from our own home in Stamboul, as that was the most convenient place
where we could all meet.
On the appointed day and about an hour before the time fixed for our
audience with Hassan Effendi our American friends arrived. My wife was
delighted to see the genuine interest they were taking in the Turks and
in the Muslim religion and encouraged them in asking questions. She
believes, and I think rightly, that the more intimately the Turks are
known, the less credence foreigners can attach to all the malicious
accounts which are being circulated by interested propagandists.
She believes that the best way to find out if the Turks are really
terrible is to take the trouble to know them, the best way to prove
that they are not “unspeakable” is to speak about them.
Our friends were especially at a loss to explain why, as long as there
was such an active revival of art in Turkey, so few foreigners knew
about it, even among those who are in Constantinople. My wife explained
this:
“The trouble is,” she said, “that most foreigners who live in
Constantinople band together and will not mix with the people of the
country. They do not take the trouble to learn the language, they
do not bother to make friends with the people. They live in small,
self-sufficient groups. I am sure that if they only knew how much they
miss by doing this, they would revise their mode of living, and they
would find out that instead of its being a trouble or a bother to learn
Turkish and to make friends with the Turks it is, on the contrary,
a real pleasure. Of course the Turks are also somewhat to blame as
they--at least those who are not over-westernized, and they are the
best--do not make an effort to mix with foreigners or to Turkicize the
foreign elements who are established in their country. But after all I
understand their point of view as I know how we feel in America about
the foreigners who come to the States and do not assimilate and as
for “Turkicizing” even the foreign elements who are established here,
we must not forget that in all matters the world has two standards,
one for the western nations and the other for Turkey. When we, in the
States, endeavour to Americanize foreigners who have come to live with
us, the world admires us and calls America “the melting-pot”--but if
the Turks ever dare to try to apply the principles of equality of
all Ottoman citizens without distinction of race or creed, the whole
world jumps on them and claims that they are endeavouring to destroy
the rights of minorities. Anyhow, the reason why the revival of art
in Turkey is not much known by foreigners is because they have not,
so far, investigated with open heart and open mind the intellectual
activities now under way in Turkey. As soon as foreigners will give up
their self-sufficiency, as soon as they will mingle with the people
and will be willing to consider themselves as guests in the country,
they will be received with open arms in Turkish communities and then
probably someone will “discover” Turkish art and it will become
fashionable throughout the West, just as some years ago Russian art was
discovered and became fashionable in Europe and in America.”
Our friends wanted also to know how it was that, although Turkish
culture did after all antedate modern European culture, as it was the
continuation of the Arabic civilization of the middle ages, art--with
the exception of applied art--was only of a recent origin in Turkey.
I was glad to answer to this question, as it took us into the subject
which we wanted to investigate to-day, that of religion.
“Nearly seven hundred years before Protestant leaders forbade the use
of pictures and sculptures in their Church, the Prophet Mohamed had
similarly prohibited the reproduction of any human or animal form
within the walls of mosques. Ignorant people praying before the image
of a saint or of a prophet are liable to adore the material picture
or sculpture rather than the spirit it represents. I believe that
idolatry is a direct outcome of this human tendency. The worship of
idols in antiquity and of images in certain ignorant modern communities
is a deterioration of originally spiritual teachings. Therefore, to
prevent the repetition of a similar deterioration by his followers
Mohamed ruled that they should banish all images from places where they
prayed. But this restriction was originally placed on the use and not
on the production of images: silver money coined at the time of Mohamed
bears the effigy of the prophet. However, in the course of time his
successors went so far beyond his teachings and his example that they
altogether forbade even the creation of images. Thus the coins of all
Muslim rulers were made to bear their names instead of their likeness,
and for centuries Muslim artists, including the Turks, devoted their
genius to creating exclusively decorative art representing writings,
arabesque designs, or flowers. It was, therefore, only as education
spread among the people of all classes, it was only after even the
masses began to understand the true purpose of the restriction placed
on the use of reproductions of living beings, it was only about ten
or fifteen years ago that Turkish artists branched out into these
heretofore forbidden fields of art. Thus the delay in the development
of art in Turkey is due to religious reasons. But even at that I
consider it salutory; after all it is much better to have in its
infancy that branch of art which reproduces living beings than to
have religion stained by idolatry--especially as the other branches
of art were permitted to follow their natural development. No one can
say that the Muslims, the Orientals, have not a keen appreciation of
colour and design, no one can say that the restriction placed on art
has atrophied their sense of beauty.” As I was finishing these remarks,
my friend Emin Bey, who was to take us to Hassan Effendi, arrived and
we started on our way. Emin Bey speaks perfect French. He is one of
the high employees of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but he does not
know English and told us that neither Hassan Effendi nor probably any
one that we might meet at his house would speak English. So we decided
that I should be the translator and I told our American friends to ask
without reticence any question they might wish.
Hassan Effendi lives in Stamboul not far from the Mosque of Sultan
Soliman, but on a side street. So when we reached the square--in the
center of which has been built in recent years a monument to two “aces”
of the Turkish Aerial Fleet who died on the battlefield--we turned to
the right and entered a narrow street. We passed under the arches of
the old Roman Aqueduct, at the foot of which were built little wooden
shacks covered with tin plates which had been in other days Standard
Oil cans. These shacks are the temporary abode of many Turkish refugees
in Constantinople, people who have been left homeless either by the
war or by the numerous fires which have devastated the city in recent
years. Soon we reached the barren sides of a hill covered with ruins,
the very center of one of these fires. On the top of the hill and a
little to the left was a small group of houses clustering about each
other, a little mosque and a very old mausoleum. Here also was the
house of Hassan Effendi, on what used to be the corner of a street,
a tiny house with whitewashed bricks, an arched porch and a covered
gallery which gave on a miniature garden. Through the columns of this
gallery one could see two old trees--a fig tree and a cypress--two
giants which, with the climbing vines on the old walls, gave to the
whole place the aspect of the inner yard of a mediaeval cloister.
The inside of the house was meticulously clean. All the walls are
whitewashed and the floors are covered with white straw matting, with
no rugs or carpets, except in the corner of the central hall, where was
a folded prayer rug. Probably the master prays here when he does not
go to the mosque. On the windows are little curtains of white muslin,
hanging loose and straight. On the walls only a few framed writings
beautifully decorated. I translated them for the benefit of our
friends; one says: “Only God is eternal, all else is temporary”; the
other asked for Divine guidance, a third proclaimed the Oneness of God.
All around and against the walls are low divans, with pillows, covered
with silks of soft hues. This is the only furniture, the only luxury,
the only touch of colour in the room.
We were announced and immediately ushered into Hassan Effendi's room, a
room similar to the one we left. He advanced to greet us at the door.
He is an old man, a patriarch with a white beard and blue eyes which
have contemplated the infinite. He wore a white turban and a long
flowing robe of black silk. He shook hands with all of us and as I
tried to kiss his hand in sign of respect, he withdrew it hastily and
placed it on his breast, a token of gratitude. He asked us to sit down
and took himself a place in a corner, near the window from where he
could see the endless sky, the hills of Stamboul with all their mosques
and a strip of blue water, the Golden Horn. Under his windows are the
ruins of man-made buildings, ephemeral homes which were destroyed in
one night of terror, leaving their inhabitants without any earthly
possessions--their whole having been devoured by the flames. After
every one was seated the master saluted us with his hand, each one
separately: “Selamu' Aleykum--Peace be with you”!
Coffee was served and to make us feel at home Hassan Effendi asked
us to smoke. He does not smoke himself. He asked how our American
friends liked the Orient and what had interested them in Turkey. Upon
my telling him, at their request, that they were mostly interested in
education, especially religious education, and that they wanted to know
something about our religion, he turned to me and said:
“Tell them, my son, that education is one of the principal bases of
Islam. The Holy Book makes it obligatory for all Muslims to know at
least how to read and says that those who serve science, serve God.
The early Muslims practised this teaching so thoroughly that only a
few generations after the Prophet all the Arab nations of the world,
united under Islam, became the center of science and civilization.
Algebra, chemistry, astronomy and many other modern sciences still
bear the names given to them by their Muslim discoverers. The schools
of the Muslim world were so far advanced that even to-day the West
resounds with the fame of the great teachers of the Universities of
Bagdad, Cairo and Granada. The West had its dark age before it came in
touch with the East, and the European Renaissance started after the
first contact Europe had with the Orient. Whereas the East had its
dark age after it came into touch with the West, and decadence in the
Orient set in after its first contact with Europe. The crusaders took
away our knowledge together with the riches of Haroun-El-Rashid and of
Saladin and left us discouraged, despondent and demoralized. That it
has taken us such a long time to shake ourselves free from the evil
consequences of the invasions we suffered is of course a little our own
fault. But this is especially due to the fact that the crusades, that
is, the rush of the West into the East, has continued throughout all
these centuries, giving us no peace, no rest. Now that the Holy Lands
have been conquered by the West, let us hope that at last we will have
peace, let us hope that East and West will at last be able to work out
together the misunderstanding they have had for hundreds of years and
that they will be able to establish once for all the principles of
unity: Oneness of God, oneness of nature, oneness of mankind--without
which the basis of solid democracy in this world cannot be established.
“But tell our friends that they must not think that during all these
centuries the Muslim world has remained absolutely stationary and has
completely neglected education. The original Muslim educational system
has continued even if the teachers were not as learned, even if a
smaller proportion of people frequented the schools and universities.
“The Muslim educational system is based upon the Medressés or
theological colleges. There is no Muslim community in the world
which has not its own Medressé. These institutions are supported by
perpetual endowments which have been made from time to time by the
wealthy Muslims of the community, endowments representing mostly real
estate and properties whose income is used to keep up the Medressés
where students are housed and fed during all the years it takes them
to finish their courses in theological science. The Medressés are
absolutely free and their endowments are administered by the Evkaf
which is, after all, nothing else than an enormous trust company
whose duty is to take care of and develop the properties which have
been perpetually donated for all religious and charitable purposes.
Each deed of trust has been made for a special purpose and its
beneficiary is clearly mentioned. In this way all Medressés have
their own particular source of income as well as all the hospitals
and orphan asylums of the Evkaf. The system is excellent and could
not be improved. What could and what should be improved is first
the administration of the Evkaf trusts, which will thus allow the
modernization of all beneficiary institutions, and second after the
needed funds have been made available by such a reorganization, the
educational program of the Medressés.”
Our friends wanted to know if it would be possible to give the
reorganization of the Evkaf to some American business men whose
organizing skill had been demonstrated.
“In principle there would be nothing against this,” said Hassan
Effendi, “but I am afraid that in practise it would be impossible.
Despite all their profession of Christian love, westerners have never
undertaken anything in the East without its becoming soon apparent
that they had an ulterior motive. Look at all the different foreign
educational institutions in the Orient. Are they here just for the love
of spreading education or for trying to convert our children to their
own creed”?
As he was asked about the program of studies followed in the Medressés
Hassan Effendi explained that while the principal aim was the study
of religion Medressés were originally meant to teach all sciences.
The Koran contains not only the principles on which the laws and the
economic structure of Muslim countries have been built, but also the
principles of astronomy--which necessitates a deep knowledge of higher
mathematics--of natural history leading to the research of the species,
and of ancient history. Therefore, students of the Koran have also
to study all these sciences and, as the Holy Book orders them to go
as deeply as possible into all the subjects it mentions, the courses
of Medressés should really be equivalent to those of the highest
universities. We were all very much interested to hear that the Koran
explicitly states that the earth is round and that together with other
planets it revolves around the sun, that other solar systems are in
existence in the universe, that life originally started in water. Many
other theories which have been scientifically ascertained since the
time of the Prophet are also stated in the Koran although the theories
commonly accepted at that time were absolutely contrary to them.
Our American friends took advantage of the turn the conversation had
taken to ask a few questions on the Muslim religion. They wanted to
know the difference, if any, between Mahommedans and Muslims, what the
Muslim creed was, and what the title of Calif meant. Hassan Effendi
answered in detail all these questions and I will try to give below if
not word for word at least the summary of his answers.