CHAPTER VII.

A NEW COSTUME AND A NEW CAREER.

I adopt European dress--The standard of

civilisation--English clothes 'made in Austria'--European

dress first adopted under Sultan Mahmud--My vain

attempts to get an appointment--Requisite qualifications

for Government employment, bribery and espionage--The

only livelihood possible for educated men--I become a

lawyer--I penetrate high official quarters.

WHEN I had passed the final examination in the law college I began to

attend the Courts to see and learn the actual working of the forms of

the procedures. I now grew to dislike having to go to the Courts and

Government offices in the _Ulema_ costume, which I still wore. In fact,

even in my class at the college there were only a few persons belonging

to _madrassehs_, and they alone were attired in the semi-religious

dress, and the contrast between our appearance and the rest in the

class, who were attired in ordinary civilian dress, seemed to us to

make us look old-fashioned. So, like most of my countrymen, I was

seized with the ambition of appearing up-to-date, and of dressing in

the more modern manner; that is to say, European costume in all but

the fez. Before I could do this, however, and become, so to speak, an

ordinary layman, I had to leave the life of the _madrasseh_ altogether,

for the people in those ancient institutions regard the discarding of

the academical turban and long cloak, and the adoption of European

clothes, as a renunciation of the profession. Anyone who ventures to

do this forfeits his right to a lodging in the _madrasseh_. I did not

know where to go after leaving my _madrasseh_, as Turkish families

cannot take any stranger into their houses as a boarder, while to go

into a Greek or Armenian family would not do for a young Mussulman, for

many reasons. So I hired two rooms in an inn, which was as filthy as

these inns always are. I went to the European quarter of Constantinople

and bought a suit of clothes from one of the numerous clothiers, who

are mostly Austrian Jews, and who bring the clothes ready-made from

Austria. Their goods are ridiculously cheap, but the tailoring and the

material are extremely bad. It is a proverb in Constantinople that when

you buy a suit of clothes from these Austrian shops and put it on, it

will be worn out before you can cross over the Golden Horn Bridge back

to Stamboul. Curiously enough, some of these Austrians try to pass

their goods off as of English manufacture, as the English-made goods

have a better reputation than the Austrian even in Turkey.

But, bad though they were, I was well content with my new clothes,

as this was a step forward in satisfaction of my craze to dress as

the Europeans did. It is a fact that most people who adopt this form

of dress in the nearer East look upon those who have not adopted it,

or do not desire to adopt it, as incapable of acquiring 'civilised'

habits. Snobbish as it is, no doubt, this idea is not without reason.

A few years ago, when there was an anti-Turkish agitation in England,

I observed in some of the Radical papers remarks to the effect that,

while the Eastern Christians who had been liberated from the Turkish

yoke had adopted civilised methods, the Turks themselves seemed to be

incapable of progress or civilisation. In reality, these 'Europeanised'

Eastern Christians are no more civilised than the turbaned villagers of

Asia Minor; their imitation of civilised methods and habits is merely

superficial; but they manage to make themselves look like Europeans;

and the world passes its judgment on most matters by surface evidence.

Not long ago I saw an article in the Spectator, dealing with the

incapacity of dark races to adopt civilised manners, and, as one of

the examples, it was cited that the late Midhat Pasha used to hate

some aspects of European costume, especially evening dress. It was

a revelation to me that Midhat and his nation were included in the

category of the dark races, and it was also a surprise to me that the

Spectator did not remember that many Englishmen of perfectly civilised

habits and high culture hate some of the grotesque forms of European

costume. It was, however, this sort of feeling among the majority of

Europeans that made us wish to imitate them, at least outwardly, so

that we might not be accused of being unfitted for civilised ways. If

the Turkish Government would make the women of harems discard their

'barbarous' veils, and go about like European women, and urge all its

subjects to put on European costumes, and also hats instead of the fez

or turban, its action would doubtless be hailed in many quarters as the

real beginning of the civilisation of Turkey.

Sultan Mahmud II., the exterminator of the Janissaries, was the first

man who perceived this prejudiced feeling of Europe some eighty

years ago. He knew that the undying hostility of the nations of

Western Europe against his empire was simply because Turkey was not a

Christian State.[7] As he could not accept any form of the religions

of Christendom, he thought he would lessen the old hostility of

Europe which must be lessened if Turkey in Europe were to continue

to exist--by imitating, at least outwardly, the other peoples of

Europe. So he ordered all the officials of the State to adopt European

attire, and himself was the first to give up the old head-dress or

turban and the long robe, and to replace them by a modified kind of

European uniform. The most conservative and religious section of the

Turks raised a howl of protest against this measure, but they could

not support their case by any valid canonical law. The tradition that

"He who makes himself look like the infidels is one of them," which is

attributed to the Prophet, was proved to be spurious. But, in spite

of his innovations, Sultan Mahmud II. could not adopt the European

hat, as his fanatical opponents discovered that the Prophet explicitly

prohibited his followers from wearing the head-dress of unbelievers,

which was at that time three-cornered in shape, the comers signifying

the belief in the 'Trinity,' a belief which is repudiated by Unitarian

Mohammedanism. The objectors, moreover, maintained that a man could not

put his forehead on the ground in prostration during worship with any

form of European hat. So the Sultan, instead of taking the European

head-dress as well, adopted the fez, which was worn mostly by the

Greeks of the Mediterranean Archipelago.

I do not say that Mahmud II. did unwisely in discarding his

forefathers' turbaned crown and long, furred robe. But it was a great

pity that he did not retain the ancient national costumes for special

ceremonial occasions at least, if only for antiquarian interest. In

looking at pictures and drawings illustrating the olden days, one

cannot help admiring those gorgeous old Turkish dresses. Persons

of every class and profession had their big turban of a particular

shape, their long robe, wide trousers, and so forth, and in these

costumes looked not only picturesque, but also imposing and dignified.

Ever since the first change, people in Turkey have been adopting the

European style of costume, and those who now retain the old attire

are only the humbler class of people in the provinces, tradesmen,

peasants, and the class of the _Ulema_.

Following my example, four other men among the students of the law

college who came from _madrassehs_ also changed their costume. Of

course, they had also to leave their _madrassehs_ on account of their

conduct.

* * * * *

After I had secured my exemption from military service, and had got

over the protracted final examination in the law college, I found that

my real troubles in life were only just beginning, for the problem

of making a position for myself lay before me. I was now entirely

dependent upon my own labours to earn my bread. As I mentioned at

the beginning of the book, we had no longer any hope of recovering

our confiscated lands, and the little instalments advanced to me

periodically out of the revenue of those lands during our lawsuit with

the authorities, which lasted fifteen years, were now very irregularly

paid. In fact, I was becoming thoroughly disgusted by the fact that we

had to make the most humble entreaties to the arrogant officials of

the Sultan in order to persuade them to advance the small sums they

owed to us. I wished to obtain some appointment, either in the Courts

or the Ministry of Justice, but there seemed little chance of my doing

so. As I have been endeavouring to show throughout these chapters,

the administration in the reign of Abd-ul-Hamid has been the most

corrupt that our unfortunate country has ever known. No one, however

highly qualified he may be, can get any employment in any Government

department unless he is connected with some highly-placed creature

of the Sultan, or unless he is able to bribe high officials, or is

cunning enough to concoct some grave political charge against others

and denounce them to the tyrant at Yildiz Kiosk. Those who do this

last service are known as 'Palace spies.' I had no relation in the

Sultan's palace who might have obtained a Government appointment for

me; and had, of course, no money to lay out in bribery, and so purchase

an appointment, while the trade of a spy was entirely repugnant to

my feelings. I may be asked why, instead of striving to get official

employment, I did not try to find other work. The fact is that

official employment is nowadays the only way in Turkey in which persons

of any education can earn a livelihood. In order to explain this I

must give some account of the nature of officialdom under the Sultan's

bureaucracy.

As the Sultan has never relaxed his determination to crush the power

and the influence of the well-to-do families, an independent existence

has now been made impossible for them. Therefore everyone of birth and

education must depend upon a Government salary for his maintenance, and

so be at the mercy of the Sultan, who has gradually and systematically

obtained control of all the financial resources of Turkey. Strictly

speaking, there is no such thing in Turkey as a distinct aristocracy.

High titled officials of the State may impress foreign observers as

being members of an aristocracy, but in reality those officials can

be raised even from people of the lowest station in life. There have

always been, nevertheless, good old families in the provinces, who,

though they received the appreciation and respect of the masses, had

no pretensions to any actual superiority over their dependants. The

governing factions, who were appointed and promoted by the central

Government, were quite distinct from either the rich or the poor

populations of most Turkish provinces. This state of society existed

up to the beginning of the present reign. When Abd-ul-Hamid began to

establish his personal rule, and founded the present bureaucracy, he

saw a danger in the independent manner of life of the old families, and

in their democratic and friendly relations with the poorer classes.

At first he tried to demoralise those ancient families by conferring

upon them official titles and decorations, hoping thus to impress them

with an idea of rank, which would bring attendant jealousies, and make

them strive hard to gain higher rank and decorations than the rest

of their fellows. Besides this, the Sultan acquired large tracts of

land in the fertile districts throughout the empire, and, as a step in

his policy of wholesale acquisition, the lands and properties of the

local magnates were gradually taken possession of on some pretext or

other by the administrators of the Civil List. Thus it was that those

who had once been independent landowners received official titles,

and became part and parcel of the Palace official world. They now

depend almost entirely for their living upon salaries paid out of the

public treasury, which treasury is supplied for the most part by taxes

extorted from the poorer provincials and peasant proprietors.

At present there are only two ways in which Turkish subjects can obtain

a livelihood. Either they must be content to pocket their pride, and

labour as workmen, small tradesmen, ordinary craftsmen, farm labourers,

and so forth, or else they must somehow get a Government appointment A

man of education must make a Government salary his ambition in life,

and must direct all his energies to increasing it. It therefore follows

that the number of unnecessary officials in Turkey is enormous, and

consequently their salaries are small, and also constantly in arrears.

Even the payment of a salary due to an official is a matter for an

appeal to the Sultan's benevolence; any increase is naturally even

more so. Only those who are able to show loyalty to the person of the

Sultan get their salaries increased and their arrears paid. The best

form of showing the required loyalty for an official is, as before

stated, to spy upon others, and denounce them as intriguing against

his sovereignty. Those who cannot or will not show their loyalty in

this way are soon reduced to the point of starvation, if not exiled or

imprisoned, or condemned to death. There is no other means of earning

money for a Turk of education in his own country nowadays. No one

can venture to carry on any commerce or any legitimate money-making

enterprise independently, nor can he establish any business relations

with the outside world. He would be instantly harassed by the lying and

intriguing Palace spies, and denounced to the Sultan as carrying on

some treasonable negotiations, under the guise of doing business. All

kinds of industrial, commercial, and financial combinations are most

stringently forbidden to Turks. Even two men cannot make an association

for any innocent and reasonable business purpose, as such a proceeding

would doubtless be reported as the promotion of a conspiracy. If a man

is accused of doing such a thing, he has no chance of proving his

innocence. The spies have a perfectly free hand, and nothing they may

report is censured, however monstrous or improbable it may be; in fact,

the more extraordinary and unlikely it is, the more the spy who brings

it will be rewarded for his zeal.

There was therefore no way in which I could obtain official employment

But my diploma from the law college qualified me to practise as a

barrister, so to that profession I determined to devote my energies,

although even in this liberal profession no independence is possible,

on account of its being under the complete control of officialdom.

Among my fellow law students who received their diploma at the same

time as myself only a few contemplated practising at the Bar; the

remainder sought Government employment Those who wished to earn their

living as lawyers had not the necessary private means for starting in

that profession. I was, however, more fortunate than most. At this

period of my career, when I enjoyed much leisure, I used to attend at

the office of a well known Turkish publisher and littérateur, who has

now been exiled to Konia, in Asiatic Turkey, whose office was called

'Imprimérie Ebuzzia,' after his own name. There I read and corrected

proofs and contributed to his magazine. This was, of course, before

the Sultan's great literary persecution, which resulted in the closing

of several printing offices, the suppression of several journals, the

burning of many books, and the banishment of many persons connected

with the literary world. In this office I made the acquaintance of a

European, who was an old resident in Constantinople, and was acting as

correspondent to the _Times_. This gentleman and his European friends,

who had some business in the matter of concessions to settle with the

Turkish Government, occasionally entrusted me with the drawing up of

their Turkish documents, and with interviewing officials on their

behalf. The documentary work I received from them enabled me from time

to time to have access not only to several high officials appointed

by the Palace, but also to the Imperial Palace itself. I thus had

many opportunities of observing closely the way in which the ruling

clique in Constantinople performs its duties. I will now give some

description of the real centre of authority in the Turkish empire,

which, I fancy, has never been properly understood even by those

English politicians who are interested in the eternal Eastern Question.

The Diary of a Turk · 第 7 / 16 章