TURKISH WOMEN
IN the appearance and lot of Turkish women we see, perhaps, more
distinctly than in any other feature of life in Constantinople the
perpetuation of the ideas and usages which give to Turkish society its
peculiar character and physiognomy. The assertion is often made that,
according to the Moslem creed, woman has no soul. This is a mistake.
While man, indeed, is considered to be woman's superior on the ground of
his higher natural endowments and of his services as bread-winner, the
Koran, at the same time, recognises her spiritual nature and religious
capacity. "Verily," says that authority, "the resigned men and the
resigned women, the believing men and the believing women, the devout
men and the devout women, the truthful men and the truthful women, the
patient men and the patient women, the humble men and the humble women,
the charitable men and the charitable women, the fasting men and the
fasting women, the chaste men and the chaste women, and the men and
women who oft remember God, for them hath God prepared forgiveness and a
mighty recompense." Although the female companionship which forms one of
the delights of the Mohammedan Paradise will be furnished by the houris,
still earth-born women are also present in the abodes of bliss. Hence a
Turkish mother, mourning the loss of her little girl, can find comfort
in putting over the child's grave this epitaph:--"The bird of my heart
has flown from its cage to find a place in the gardens of Paradise." If
Moslem women do not attend public worship in the mosques, the reason is
not any spiritual disqualification, but the idea that the sexes should
associate as little as possible. Yet elderly women may be seen at their
devotions in a mosque out of the hours of public worship, while during
the religious season of Ramazan special services for women are held in
some of the great mosques of the city, as well as in the imperial harem
and in the harems of wealthy personages, such services being conducted
by popular preachers. But after all is said that can be said to prove
that honourable views concerning woman are cherished in a society
constituted by Moslem thought, it remains true that the fundamental
conception underlying the organisation of that society and forming its
dominant spirit is of an opposite character. That conception, we should
in justice remember, is not peculiar to Islam. On the contrary, it has
prevailed outside the Mohammedan world; it has contaminated even the
life of Christendom. Nevertheless, the view that man and woman are not
equals, that the latter is chiefly made to minister to the pleasure of
the former, and that they are morally dangerous to each other, has
nowhere been applied so consistently, on so large a scale, and for so
long a period in the very presence of a higher civilisation, as in
Moslem society. Such a view demands naturally and necessarily that men
and women should be kept apart as much as the conditions of human
existence permit. Where polygamy, concubinage, and easy divorce are
lawful social arrangements, woman must be put behind the shelter of a
jealous protection. She must be placed out of sight, secluded, guarded,
and, when she appears in public, veiled and forbidden to display her
ornaments. Men, on the other hand, must avoid looking at a woman they
meet abroad, remembering that "God will reward the Muslim who, having
beheld the beauties of a woman, shuts his eyes," and that, though the
first look is excusable, because often unavoidable, the next is
unlawful. The outward manifestations of these ideas are seen on every
hand in the Turkish life of Constantinople. Hence the division of a
Turkish home into apartments for men (selamlik) and apartments for women
(harem), into the former of which no Turkish lady enters, and into the
latter of which only the nearest male relatives are admitted. Hence also
the two doors leading from the street respectively to these divisions of
the house; hence the latticed screens outside the windows of the harem
to conceal the inmates from even the hurried glance of passers-by. If
you have occasion to call upon a Turk who keeps no man-servant, and a
woman comes to answer the door, she will, before opening it, inquire who
has knocked. If the caller is a man, and the master of the house is out,
she will refuse admittance in a tone which makes you feel happy to
depart; if the master is in, she will open the door ajar, leaving you to
open it wide, after you have given her time to announce your visit, and
retire from view. There is no such thing in Turkish life as a mixed
social gathering of ladies and gentlemen. For husband and wife to walk,
or drive, or boat together was unknown until quite recent times, and
when such proceedings occur they are regarded with disfavour. In tramway
cars, in trains, on steamers, in waiting-rooms, men and women occupy
different compartments. Should the ladies' cabin on the steamers which
ply between the city and the suburbs on the Bosporus or the Marmora be
unoccupied at starting by Turkish women, gentlemen are permitted to seat
themselves in it, and to keep their places so long as Moslem women do
not appear. But if a Turkish lady embarks at a station on the way, the
cabin must be forthwith vacated by its male occupants, who do not
present the air of the lords of creation as they wander to find other
seats. On one occasion a foreign lady and gentleman reached a certain
pier on the Bosporus some time before the arrival of the steamer, which
was to convey them to the city, and, finding the ladies' waiting-room
empty, seated themselves in it. Presently an elderly Turkish woman,
belonging to a somewhat humble class of society, appeared, accompanied
by her son, a lad some fourteen years old. According to strict etiquette
the gentleman should have left the room. But, as the lady he was
escorting wished him to remain, and as the Turkish woman looked a
motherly person and had her boy with her, he kept his seat, forgetful of
use and wont. Suddenly the lad in the hanum's company went out. As the
event proved, it was to bring the man in charge of the pier upon the
scene. The latter approached the gentleman, whom he knew well, and in
the politest possible manner whispered the information that the Turkish
woman opposite objected to the presence of a man. There was nothing to
be done but for the intruder to withdraw with as little awkwardness as
the situation admitted, and the matter seemed settled to the
satisfaction of all concerned. But the indignation of the foreign lady
at the discomfiture of her escort was too great for the troubled waters
to be calmed so easily. Rushing out after him, she begged him to protest
on her behalf against the presence of the Turkish lad in the ladies'
room when she was there. So the faithful man in charge of the pier
proceeded to eject the youth likewise, while the fair complainant
resumed her seat in order to maintain her point until the steamer came
up. How her Turkish sister felt under the circumstances does not appear,
but the incident illustrates the influence upon the native mind of the
idea that men and women should be kept strictly apart.
For a woman's hair to be exposed to public view is considered an extreme
humiliation. A poor Turkish woman on her way to an asylum threw herself
in a fit of wild excitement upon the ground, and, in doing so, threw off
the veil which covered her head. "Alas, alas," screamed the female
friends who accompanied her, "she is showing her hair!" as though that
exposure was the worst feature of the case.
It would be a mistake, however, to infer from what has been said that
the seclusion to which Turkish women are consigned deprives them of all
freedom and social influence. The reverse is true. Wealthy ladies
control their own property even after their marriage. Furthermore, if
seclusion denies women certain privileges, it wins for them certain
rights--the right, above all, to have their seclusion respected. It
secures for them the regard cherished for those who have a great public
duty to perform, and entitles them to all the support requisite for the
discharge of that duty. A highly educated Turk, upon hearing of the
annoyance given to some Turkish ladies by the inquisitive gaze of
certain foreigners, expressed his indignation in the following curious
fashion: "Such conduct towards European ladies would not be strange, for
they exhibit themselves to public view, and must take the consequences;
but to treat Turkish ladies thus, when they have the right to enjoy
perfect privacy, was intolerable impertinence." Although it is not
becoming for a Turkish lady to go out by herself, a company of Turkish
women may go anywhere, not only without fear of molestation, but without
attracting the slightest notice. Even the police shrink from interfering
with them. Sometimes Turkish women will refuse to pay toll for crossing
the bridges which span the Golden Horn, and defy all the attempts of the
toll-men to enforce payment. One has seen Turkish women embark on a
Bosporus steamer without tickets, and when challenged for doing so, take
off a slipper, strike the ticket-collector, and proceed on their way
none the poorer. Like a famous thistle, a Turkish woman cannot be
touched with impunity. Nor is it strange that a man's female relatives
should influence him in Turkey, as much as they do in other countries
and in similar ways. After all, men and women are everywhere much the
same, and no artificial arrangements can altogether prevent the
operation of natural forces. Indeed, a man is, perhaps, more liable to
be swayed by his female relatives when they are the only women he meets.
But be that as it may, women related to the great officers of State
exercise considerable political influence. The mother of the Sultan,
known as the Validé Sultana, is the first lady in the land, and, if a
woman of capacity, is a power behind the throne. It is reported that the
famous British ambassador, Sir Stratford Canning, had once occasion to
suggest to the Sultan of his day that in taking a certain course of
action the sovereign of the Empire was yielding to a mother's counsels.
"True," replied the monarch, "but she is the only friend I can perfectly
trust as sincerely devoted to me." Several years ago, delay in the
payment of salaries, no unfrequent occurrence in Constantinople, caused
great suffering among the humbler employees of the Government. Other
methods of redress having failed, the aggrieved parties betook
themselves to the weapon of female force. Accordingly, a large body of
women, mostly the wives of the poor men, but including professional
female agitators, invaded the offices of the Minister of Finance. They
filled every corridor, swarmed upon every stairway, blocked every door
they could find, and made the building resound with lamentations and
clamours for payment. The Minister managed to escape by a back entrance.
But the women would not budge. It was vain to call in the police or
soldiers to intervene. The indecorum of a public application of force in
dealing with the women would have created too great a scandal, and so
the authorities bowed before "the might of weakness," and made the best
terms they could induce the victors to accept. A more recent experience
of the power of Turkish women to interfere, in spite of their seclusion,
with the affairs of the outer world, may be added. The owners of a piece
of land adjoining a Turkish village on the Bosporus decided to enclose
their property with a substantial wall of stone and mortar. As the
ground had long been a pleasant resort for the women and children of the
village, especially on Fridays, where sitting on the ground under the
shade of trees they enjoyed the fresh air and the beautiful views on
every side, the villagers very naturally regretted the loss which the
erection of the wall would involve, and they determined to prevent the
execution of the work to the utmost of their power. The opposition first
assumed a legal form. It was urged that the wall would interfere with
the water-course which supplied the village fountain, and furthermore,
would include a piece of land belonging to the community. Both
objections were shown to be without foundation, and building operations
were begun. No difficulties were raised until the wall approached the
fountain and the land in dispute, when it became evident that if the
work proceeded farther the opposition would resort to violent measures.
In the hope of coming to a friendly understanding with the villagers by
additional explanations, work was suspended for some time, but the
negotiations to establish peace having failed, the erection of the wall
was continued. The work had not gone far, when a band of women appeared,
led by the principal female personage in the community, who enjoyed the
distinction of being both the widow of the late imaum of the village
mosque and the mother of the present incumbent of that office; a
dark-visaged dame, with a sharp tongue. Not a single man accompanied the
women. Armed with sticks and stones, the band of Amazons rushed upon the
workmen and drove them off. The intervention of the police obliged the
women to retreat, but, when the masons returned next morning to their
work, they found the women already upon the scene of action. The imaum's
widow with another woman had seated themselves in the trench and defied
the erection of the wall over their bodies! Again the police interfered,
and, after all methods of gentle moral suasion had proved useless, they
actually lifted the imaum's widow somewhat forcibly out of the trench.
She took the affront so much to heart that she kept her bed for several
days. There was a consequent lull in the storm. But soon the women
resumed the struggle, coming in the dark and tearing down a considerable
portion of the building. The wall had therefore to be guarded by the
police during the day, and by watchmen during the night. Still the women
would not abandon the contest, and, as a supreme effort, sent a long
telegram to the Palace, invoking the sovereign's aid and protection. In
reply, they were invited to send a deputation to the Police Court
connected with the imperial residence. The pasha of the Court was a
veteran official who, though he could not read, and knew to write only
his own name, had reached his responsible position by force of character
and the possession of common sense. He expounded the law to the women
before him, informed them that he intended to enforce it, and gave them
a tremendous scolding for the manner in which they and their sisters
had behaved; seasoning justice, however, with mercy, to the extent of
presenting them a small sum of money wherewith to meet the expense of
their visit to him and of their telegram.
The young imaum of the village was also summoned, and made to understand
that, unless his mother's influence was employed to keep the peace, he
should lose his place. Accordingly, the war stopped, but there were
threats that the two persons most concerned with the erection of the
wall would be stoned to death. The threats were so serious that even a
brave Croat, in the service of the proprietors of the enclosed ground,
advised the superintendent of the works to avoid a road which would
expose him to assault. "I am an old man," replied the latter, a Briton,
"it will not matter much if I am stoned to death." "But," answered the
Croat, "will it not be a shame to be killed by women?" It was an
ungallant remark to make, in view of the spirit displayed by the women,
yet a characteristic expression of that poor estimate of womanhood
against which the weaker sex has still to contend in the East--the
estimate which led Abimelech, long ago, when at the point of death by a
blow from a woman's hand, to beseech his armour-bearer to kill him, lest
men should say "a woman slew him."
[Illustration: THE SWEET WATERS OF EUROPE
A pleasure resort near the upper end of the Golden Horn much in favour
in the spring, when every Friday afternoon crowds of Turkish ladies with
their children flock there for recreation by the water-side.]
But the world moves, and Turkish women move with it. The last generation
has witnessed remarkable changes in their habits both in the capital and
in other great cities of the Empire. For one thing, there has been a
striking change in the matter of dress. The time was, when a Turkish
woman brought vivid colouring into every scene she adorned. Her yashmak,
enveloping head and face and neck in white gauze; her feredjé enfolding
her form down to the feet in red, green, blue, pink, or any other hue
she fancied; her yellow boots and yellow overshoes, worn like slippers,
made her as gay and bright as a butterfly or a flower. What wonderful
pictures did groups of women thus attired form, as they squatted on a
red rug spread on the green grass under the shade of cypresses or
plane-trees, beside the Sweet Waters of Europe and the Heavenly Waters
of Asia; or as they sat in long rows by the shores of the Bosporus to
drink in the salt air, to watch the blue waters and the hurrying to and
fro of boats and sails and steamers; or as they floated in a caïque over
the quiet sea. What a fantasia of colour they made as they went slowly
past, seated in a long, narrow wagon (arabah), its high sides bright
with painted flowers and gilded arabesque, under a scarlet awning edged
with gold fringe, drawn by white oxen, over whose heads heavy red
tassels, attached to rods fixed in the yoke, waved with every motion of
the creaking wheels!
[Illustration: THE YASHMAK
The veil is sometimes so transparent that it scarcely conceals the
features at all.]
But this feast of colour has ended, and the world of Turkish womanhood
has exchanged the brightness of summer for the sober tints of autumn.
The yashmak is now universally discarded, except by the ladies of the
imperial household who are still required to wear it, as well as a black
feredjé; the only bit of bright colour permitted being in the matter of
the headkerchief of tulle they wear under the yashmak. In the costume of
the mass of Turkish women, the feredjé has been replaced by the
charshaf, a mantle worn over the head and about the body down to the
feet, drawn in slightly at the waist. The material and the colour of the
garment differ according to the means and taste of the wearer, but the
colour is always quiet and subdued. To the portion of the charshaf above
the eyes a dark veil is attached, and this can be worn over the face, or
thrown back over the head, as the wearer pleases. When thrown back, a
Turkish lady's face is seen as plainly as that of her European sister.
The charshaf may also be made of two pieces of cloth in order to secure
a better fit, and although the garb might seem to defy artistic
arrangement and effect, it is often very becoming and graceful. It would
appear that the charshaf was the original dress of Turkish women, with
the important difference from the present fashion that the veil could
not be thrown back, and was furnished with two holes for the eyes, as
among Moslem women to-day in Persia and India. The yashmak, it is said,
came into vogue at the time of the Conquest, being an adaptation of the
veil worn then by women of the Christian peoples of the land. Its
abandonment for the sake of a style which permits greater freedom is a
sign of progress. But the change, which was made some thirty years ago,
roused considerable opposition. Merchants in the bazaars objected to it,
because a charshaf required less material to be made up than a feredjé,
and consequently injured trade. Others found fault with it simply
because it was an innovation; while others feared that when worn with
the veil down it might facilitate disguise in carrying on social or
political intrigues. Nay, imperial iradès denounced and forbade the new
mode. But all was in vain, for even in Turkey it is possible for women
to have their own way. Nor is it only in their out-door dress that
Turkish women have introduced alterations. They have done so likewise in
their dress when at home. The baggy trousers, the embroidered vest and
jacket, which constituted the costume in which a Turkish hanum reclined
upon her divan, have been replaced, in the progressive section of
Turkish female society, by garments after European fashions. A Turkish
bride belonging to a wealthy family wears a wedding dress like that
which adorns a young lady under similar circumstances in Western lands,
the only difference being that the former allows her hair to hang down,
and decorates it with long narrow streamers of tinsel, pieces of which
she presents to her young friends for good luck. Elegant tea-gowns and
the latest Parisian robes are worn in wealthy harems. Turkish ladies,
indeed, have yet to adopt the low-necked dress, but, not to be
altogether behind the times, they make their servant-maids don that
attire on great occasions. When the maids are dark-skinned daughters of
Africa, the effect is not flattering to the costume. But after all,
these changes are interesting chiefly as indications of the fact that
the spirit of Turkish women has come, to some degree, under the
influence of new ideas. Polygamy is on the decline. Greater attention
is now paid to the education of girls among all classes of the
community. In wealthy families it is common for the daughters to have
English or French or German governesses, and to be instructed in the
ordinary branches of education, even to the extent of doing something so
foreign as to learn to ride. In a few instances, Turkish girls attend
foreign schools, and it is a most significant sign of the times to see
the female relatives of such girls present at the public proceedings of
these institutions. Periodicals providing special literature for ladies
have appeared, and there are Turkish authoresses, some of whom enjoy a
great reputation among their countrywomen. As might be expected, this
upward movement meets with opposition, as upward movements always meet
wherever they occur. Such a thing has been known as an imperial iradè,
commanding all foreign governesses to be dismissed from Turkish homes,
because of teachers pernicious ideas. On the eve of Ramazan it is usual
to issue strict orders for Turkish ladies to keep their veils down. A
Turkish lady once attended, with her husband, an "At Home" in a foreign
house. Shortly thereafter, the police called upon the gentleman, late in
the evening, as the custom is in this part of the world, and informed
him that he was wanted at the police-court next morning on important
business. What that business was the police did not condescend to say,
preferring to make night uncomfortable for the couple, by keeping them
in suspense. Upon appearing at the court the husband learned that the
visit of his wife to a foreign house, on the occasion referred to, had
been noticed and duly reported to the authorities, and he was warned
(under threat of severe penalty) not to allow the offence to be
repeated. At public gatherings at the Sweet Waters of Europe and Asia,
the police watch the behaviour of Turkish ladies as though so many
naughty or helpless children were abroad. One has seen a policeman order
a lady to put up the window of her carriage, because she attracted too
much admiration. At another time, one has seen a company of respectable
Turkish ladies, who were enjoying a moonlight row on the Bosporus,
packed home by the police. The life of educated Turkish women is
rendered hard and humiliating by such restrictions. On the occasion of a
visit to a Turkish gentleman in his garden, it so happened that two of
his nieces, not knowing that any one was calling, came to greet their
uncle. Surprised at seeing a man with him, the young ladies started
back, as gazelles might start at the sight of a hunter. Their uncle,
however, summoned them to return, and with extreme courtesy introduced
them to his visitor, with the information that one of the young ladies
could speak English. Conversation in that language had not gone far,
when another gentleman was announced. Instantly the girls sprang to
their feet and darted away as for dear life. "See," said the uncle in
tones of mingled vexation and sorrow, "See what it is to be an educated
Turkish lady!"
[Illustration: THE SWEET WATERS OF ASIA
Another favourite pleasure resort much frequented by Turkish ladies in
summer.]
A Turkish gentleman of high rank wishing his daughters to enjoy the
advantage of a European education, but anxious to spare them as much as
possible the chagrin and ennui of being educated above the station of a
Turkish lady, hoped to attain his object by having his girls learn to
speak French without being able to read in that language. Such
experiences are disheartening. But, as the pale flowers which come ere
winter has wholly gone herald the spring and foretell the glory of
summer, so the recent improvements in the lot of Turkish women, however
slight they may appear meantime, warrant the hope of further progress
and final emancipation.