And now the time has come for me to return to my native land, I ask
myself what have been my final impressions of my life as a Turkish
woman. All these weeks, which have slipped by without my noticing their
going, I have felt like an actress seated in the theatre, watching
another play my part--indeed a restful sensation.
I came here with perhaps just a little of the “downtrodden woman of
the East” fallacy left, but that has now completely vanished. To me,
an Englishwoman, there are sides of this life which would irritate me
into open rebellion. That the customs of the country should have power
to make me wear a veil, whether I wished it or not, that I should be
forced to travel in a compartment reserved exclusively for women, that
I must always have the hood up when I drive in a carriage, that if I
chance to stray into a café of the people, I am served in a superior
kind of rabbit-hutch, separated by a grating from the opposite sex,
that if I go into a tea-shop where there are men, I will be requested
to leave, and last, but not least, that I should have to depend for
male society exclusively on my blood relations--Heaven indeed forbid!
A Turkish woman asked me once what it felt like to be able to mix
freely with men who are not blood relations. “I cannot _tell_,” I
answered; “it dates right back to the time when my big brother teased
me to tears, and his friend wiped them away. To ask me what it means to
mix freely with men is almost like asking what it means to have lungs.
I never stopped to think, but I know I should die without them.”
But then, after all, is not everything relative? Had I never known the
pleasures of male society, had not circumstances forced me to take my
life in my own hands and work out my own destiny, I should not perhaps
quarrel with what is part of a Turkish woman’s existence. If we in the
West possess what is known as the “joy of liberty,” have not so many
of us been denied the blessing of protection? The veiled Turkish woman
asks, Can you imagine how distressing it is to be willing to work and
for the conventions of the country not to allow it? Many of the poor
tired workers of my country might ask, Can you imagine what it is to
have to work and not to be able to find work?
All these weeks I have been leading a Turkish existence. I have really
tried to put myself in a Turkish woman’s place, but I cannot somehow
pity her. Is it that I have been too near the suffering heart of my
own countrywomen? “Our lives are so empty,” pointed out one woman.
“Really we do not have enough social distractions.” I close my eyes and
think of the women of my own country, worn out with a London season and
its festivities. In their moments of sincerity they would not tell you
they had expended their time and energy only to be bored; but social
obligations cannot be taken in moderate doses, you must swallow the
whole draught.
“Can you imagine what it is to have longed all your life to hear Wagner
and a full orchestra and not to be able?” said one woman; and another,
who is an exceedingly good musician, tells me she has no idea of her
own value as a pianist, seeing she never had an opportunity of hearing
professionals.
But all this is changing, and it is a passionately interesting study to
see them taking off the customs of ages to put on something different.
How will they appear when next I visit them?
I have called the Turkish woman an “onlooker.” She is at present, as it
were, only on the margin of the great life; she understands enough of
the game, however, to long to take a part. How will she play that part?
Is it absolutely necessary for her to come to us for assistance?
This is the question I have asked so many Turkish women. They must
think I argue almost like a reactionary. Yet I have not defended the
harem system. There is, however, so much in the Turkish home life which
is beautiful that I would prefer to see them progressing on the lines
of their own civilization, rather than becoming a poor imitation of us.
Let them come to us and learn to organize their studies; the rest they
can, if they will, manage for themselves.
But I have a feeling that, except for a very few, Turkish women will
not take too kindly to our civilization. When my charming English
friends, who reconcile me just a little to Pera, took me to the Dorcas
Ball I felt uncomfortable prickings of conscience, going to enjoy
myself and leaving my friends at home. I might have saved my regrets,
however, for it was they who were sorry for me, having to waste my time
dancing till the small hours of the morning with mere acquaintances.
And those Turkish women who have come to Europe? How well they have
adapted themselves to our civilization. When they were with us who
could have supposed they were wearing hats for the first time? Who
could suppose, to hear them speaking our language, to see them
threading their way in and out of the traffic of our big capitals, that
they had not lived with us all their lives? And yet how glad they were
to return to their own home life!
The Turk has always been most severely attacked in Europe on the manner
in which he treats his womenkind. He considers them, it is said, “mere
possessions.” But surely this is the case with the men of most nations.
On what but this is the woman’s rebellion based?
That the Moslem woman has no status, I most emphatically deny. If the
Moslem women are “possessions,” they are “cherished possessions” and
treated as such. Are Moslem women obliged to exercise the most hideous
of professions as are their Christian neighbours? Is there anywhere in
the East the terrible degradation of our poor Whitechapel women? It
is not because he despises her that the Turk has kept his womankind
screened from the world. Her rôle is maternity, therefore the cares and
temptations of the world must not be known to her, and nothing ought to
interfere with this supreme reason of her existence.
Quite recently a decision of the greatest importance and daring was
taken by the Ottoman Government. Without their having to ask, the
University was thrown open to women, and they are now attending
lectures on gynæcology, hygiene, woman’s rights, etc.
When I heard the news, much as I rejoiced, I could not help making a
comparison between the methods of the East and those of the West. Here
are these “unspeakable” Turks giving to women privileges for which they
have not asked, simply because they are theirs by right, and since
they are to take their place as workers in the world, they must be
educated. And yet, here in England, much as women have tried to work
along the lines of evolution they have been driven to revolution. Is
this sex antagonism of their asking? From the beginning of the woman’s
movement, every privilege has had to be bought with rebellion.
* * * * *
And now, with reluctance, I close the diary of my existence as a
Turkish woman. I have not attempted to give a careful and finished
picture of my life here; this is the age of impressions, and the
beautiful Eastern colouring would lose much of its warmth, were it
not put on fresh from the brush. My boxes are corded and ready, the
Messageries Maritimes steamer which brought me here will take me
back through the beautiful Sea of Marmora, where the setting sun
casts itself in such magnificence on to the water beneath it, and the
dolphins bathed in sunlight pop up to greet us as we pass along.
A little Turkish friend is going to Europe with me. Her first hat is in
readiness, and when the steamer has gone through the “Dardanelles” she
will put it on.
If only I could order the same calm sea which brought me here to take
me back again; but I must trust to Providence. All through my visit the
glorious sun of Eastern hospitality has been darting its beams upon
me--it has been a wonderful experience.
Ah! the beautiful unceremoniousness of the East, the absolute
sincerity, the liking of one’s friends for friendship’s sake
irrespective of position, and the true brotherhood and democracy of the
kindly Turk ... if these qualities must vanish in the inevitable march
of progress, then may I never see Turkey again; for, without these
qualities, it would no longer be the Turkey I have admired and loved.
AFTER-WORDS
It was Christmas 1913. The Balkan War was over, and Young Turkey had
begun with a patriotism born of humiliation to save what remained of
the poor mutilated Fatherland. (I have described my impressions of
Turkish life during this period.)
At the head of affairs were men who could accept responsibility. Seeds
of progress were being sown amongst the ruins. The leaders, who had
learnt their lesson from bitter experience and had accomplished so much
against terrible odds, could they not now steer the ship of State into
the calm waters of prosperity?
Talaat-Djavid and Djémal knew what they wanted. Though confronted with
international and internal problems, difficulties of race and religion
and financial chaos, yet they kept their heads, and then they made one
fatal mistake--that mistake was ENVER PASHA.
Only a year ago Enver was neither Pasha nor the Sultan’s son-in-law nor
Minister of War. He was lying seriously ill at the German hospital at
Constantinople, and only his great determination to serve his country
pulled him successfully through three terrible operations. He had
been fighting in spite of appendicitis, and in spite of all kinds of
internal complications and bullet wounds. He was brought almost dead
from the battlefield--even German surgery had given him up--and yet he
would not die. Enver struck one as a picturesque personage. His energy
and determination were such new features in Turkish civilization. A
fearless and reckless soldier, tall, handsome, a patriot certainly,
unintelligent but sincere, hated and loved in so many harems, his
picture was to be found draped in the Turkish flag: he was the best
selling of picture postcards.
Accompanied by Enver’s great friend and master, Djémal Pasha, I went to
visit the Turkish hero in the German hospital. It was then I discovered
what Djémal afterwards owned was true, that Enver was totally lacking
in initiative and imagination, and that he could only command when
he himself was commanded, but no one better than he could obey. “And
the revolution of 1908?” I asked. “How splendidly he carried out his
orders!” I was told. “He’s a magnificent fellow, and such a man is
_indispensable_ to our cause.”
Although weak, Enver discussed many political questions with us, but
in everything he agreed with his friend Djémal Pasha, whose sympathies
were entirely Franco-British, because, as he explained, and rightly
so, Britain and France were the two countries who had no interest to
work for Turkey’s destruction. Djémal detested Germany even more than
he detested Russia. He loved England, but more than England he loved
France and everything French, and French culture and thought, and he
once added, “_French money_.” Djémal’s policy was to allow Turkey
to be under the greatest obligations to England and France. If only
England and France would come forward and do this and that for us,
if France would offer us education, if England, as the ruler of our
co-religionists, would come nearer to us, where then would be German
influence?
The German Mission had just then arrived in Constantinople. My Turkish
women friends were much distressed, considering it a humiliation to
see their capital thus invaded by Teutons. Indeed, they requested me,
in their name, to ask the Government whether the Mission could not be
removed to Adrianople. Djémal could not understand the women’s anxiety
about Germany. “We have begun with German methods and we must go on,”
said he; “but the German mission has no political meaning....” Djémal
was always sincere. His god was power. He wanted power above everything.
And so Enver, as a useful _instrument_ of his colleagues, and
particularly Djémal, was appointed Minister of War. As their obedient
servant in his own reckless manner, he was to obey their orders; he
was to sweep out from the War Office old worn-out servants; to make
other drastic changes his friends found indispensable; but his rôle was
distinctly to obey, not to command. He fulfilled his mission; he _did_
obey, but he changed masters--he gave himself up body and soul, not to
his colleagues, but to the German Kaiser.
When Enver so emphatically denied to me the Germanophilism of which he
was accused, no doubt he was sincere. He was like a man in love. He,
as a soldier of an army suffering from lack of discipline, could not
help admiring the German organisation. Their arrogance also appealed
to him, and although, as a democrat and a man of the people, he tried
to persuade himself to the contrary, he was flattered by the Emperor
William’s attention. In Berlin, when military attaché, they, the
Germans, made a god of Enver; he left his heart in Germany, too, it is
said. He may have tried to escape from this German influence; he simply
could not: it was his destiny. He who loved to obey found his master
at Potsdam and his master’s representatives at Constantinople--the
Ambassador, Baron von Wangenheim, and General Liman von Sanders, head
of the German Mission. They took possession of him; he was powerless;
as powerless as his ex-master, Djémal, to take a firm stand once more
for Franco-British influence.
It was Christmas Eve a year ago. The Turkish heir to the throne
invited me _tout à fait sans cérémonie_ to his palace to coffee and to
talk to him about my country. Although he could perfectly understand
French, he could not speak it; consequently Djémal Pasha was good
enough to act as interpreter.
The Prince’s knowledge of everything connected with my country was a
pleasant surprise. He admired and loved England. “Whatever political
mistakes we may say England has made, however unjustly we may think she
has treated us,” said the Prince, “England is still our model. She’s a
clean, honour-loving nation, a nation of gentlemen.” These sentiments
were shared by the Grand Vizier.
The Prince was not as enthusiastic about France as Djémal Pasha. France
to him meant Paris, and Paris was a danger to Young Turkey. “Let our
men go to France afterwards, but let them first be sobered down in
England,” said he. “French learning may be fine, but England gives a
young man character.... English women make their sons men. We want
Turks to be men.” To our statesmen the Prince paid tribute; also to our
Court, our literature, and our architecture. “It is all aristocratic
and solid,” were his words....
The Turkish heir to the throne considered German influence something
that did not even come within the range of discussion. “Germany,” said
he, “is forty years old; she has yet to be tried.” Then he added,
“Britain has shed her blood for us--that we can never forget.”
Such is the opinion of the future Sultan of Turkey about Britain--now
Turkey’s enemy--and indeed, he meant every word he said.
And in the harems--does Germany even count? Right in the heart of Asia
Minor, they have heard of British honour, but who has heard of Germany?
and the name of Britain rests on a prestige which has stood the test
of time. That “_all right_” verdict which was given to the English
governess--that acceptance of the British word without contract--are
facts which count.
An ill-advised Government can lead its country to destruction, but the
mighty Kaiser himself cannot crush out this admiration born in the
Turks for England.
It is true England and France have never considered Turkey worth while,
as Germany has done. I said so to a British official. “We cannot send
out retrievers, as Baron Marschall does,” he answered. “We can only
offer a straightforward friendship. If the Turks cannot accept that....”
Yet Germany did send her finest diplomatists to Constantinople, and
also her picked officers; the Kaiser himself paid court to the Sultan,
and on his Eastern tour saw that Moslem feelings and customs were in
every way considered. He gave presents of great value to both the
Sultan and his Grand Vizier. Kiamil Pasha in his Konak has books of
priceless value given to him by the Kaiser, and yet evidently it was
of little value, for the veteran statesman of Turkey turned always to
England for sympathy. England was the country who could put everything
right, and one of his greatest sorrows was that England had not come to
Turkey’s assistance in her hour of need.
And Turkey’s quarrel in this case was certainly not with Britain. She
was still smarting under what she felt the injustice of giving Mitylene
and Chios to Greece. Day and night she was waiting for an opportunity
to get back her islands, and day and night she was in terror lest
Greece should strike before her Dreadnoughts--ordered in England--were
ready. Hakky Pasha, the ex-Grand Vizier of Turkey in London,
telegraphed and advised that in spite of Germany’s offer of assistance
against Greece, Turkey must remain neutral, and to attack Greece even
during the present war classed her at once as anti-British. But it was
not what any reasonable statesman wanted, it was what Germany wanted.
Turkey was clamouring for war with Greece; instead of this she found
that Germany in her name had bombarded an open Russian port! Germany
promised her Mitylene and Chios and even Cyprus. She staked her whole
fortune on German victory and German honour--and Germany promised
to free her from European interference. Now, it is not difficult to
calculate what Turkey has gained from the speculation.
It is hard to make out a good case for Turkey, but however bitter one
may feel against the foolish Enver and the Young Turkish Government,
the Turkish people are not to blame. A friend writing from Turkey
tells me Germany left no stone unturned to lead the Government into
difficulties. In Anatolia, she spread the false report that the Moslems
in the Caucasus were being ill treated by the Russians! Baron von
Wangenheim took possession of the press. Enver Pasha, led by Baron von
Wangenheim, made short work of those who under the eyes of their new
masters declared they had put up too long with this “mad Government.”
Djémal Pasha’s orders that the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_ should be
disarmed were totally disregarded; the German Admiral Suchon was master
of the situation, and refused to take on board the Turkish sailors sent
by Djémal. Turkey ceased to exist.
The rest of the story is known: the touching “Good-bye” which passed
between the British and French Ambassadors and the Grand Vizier, the
arrival of three million marks which was Germany’s first instalment of
a river of gold she had promised to her faithful Enver. Then a time of
waiting and the second instalment of gold--German paper!!! Turkey is
now quite aware of the treachery of Germany. But it is too late.
“There is no happiness and no salvation for the Turk,” a dear friend
writes me. “However much we try, whatever sacrifices we make, our lot
has always been, and always will be, to be sacrificed to the ambitions
of the European Powers. Once more Turkey has fulfilled her destiny....”
* * * * *
It was Christmas only a year ago. The land of Islam was wrapped in a
mantle of snow. To the quiet harem came Turkish friends from far and
near, and together we celebrated the birth of the Saviour of the World.
It was a beautifully pathetic Christmas, one of the most interesting
and wonderful I ever spent.
The celebration of Christmas in a Moslem home! As a little girl, I
longed and dreamed of the day when I should be privileged to tell the
Moslems the great and real meaning of Christmas.... And that day had
come.
We had a Christmas tree, we played at snapdragon and hunt the slipper
and musical chairs. We sang “Auld lang syne,” and to me it was the
beginning of a great understanding--a great wide brotherhood--and we
promised to spend this Christmas together in the same real Christmas
manner....
And that was Christmas a year ago. Could I ever have dreamed where I
would be this year? I, who had a year ago explained the beautiful real
meaning of Christmas, am here in a French hospital with English nurses
helping to repair the ills that Christian nations have done to one
another!
What a glorious example for the Moslem peoples! The hideousness of the
Christian’s warfare! Is there anything the East can now learn from the
West?
There are Christmas trees in all the hospital wards. The English nurses
have dressed them ... the bare walls are transformed into a fairyland
of ivy and candles and real good Christmas decorations. There are cakes
and sweets and fruits and British plum pudding....
Luncheon has ended. These splendid English nurses, who have responded
to the French appeal to come and help, ask me for a toast.
“There is only one toast for all thinking humanity,” I reply, and the
nurses understand.
The German prisoners are washing up the dishes on which we have eaten
our British plum pudding. Poor pathetic souls! Let us distinguish
between the criminal and his crime....
And this is the Christmas I promised to spend in Turkey--the land where
I have spent so many happy days of my life. And this is the result of
the world-famed Teuton _Kultur_.
Beside the crimes of Louvain and Rheims and the poor shivering and
hungry refugees who were first wrecked at Havre and then brought on
penniless and homeless here to Bordeaux, and all the other crimes
for which Germany must answer, I place the betrayal of Turkey. To
deliberately lead to destruction a people who made so brave a stand for
regeneration, whose patriotism I have so inadequately described, if
this is all that civilization can produce--if this is how we illustrate
the lessons we have learnt from Bethlehem to Gethsemane--how can we any
longer preach that wonderful gospel of peace and goodwill amongst men?
My companions urge this is the darkness before dawn. Behind the clouds
and battle smoke the sun is shining. Cruel platitudes in a hospital of
eleven hundred wounded soldiers. And when the war is over? Alas, the
unending sadness of my surroundings has killed for a while any hope of
happiness.
HOSPITAL MILITAIRE DE TALENCE,
BORDEAUX, _Christmas_ 1914.
INDEX
Abdul-Hak-Hamid (Turkish writer), 116
Abdul-Hamid (ex-Sultan of Turkey), 44, 48, 127, 145, 153
Ahmed Riza Bey, 81
Architecture, 188
Aristocracy of the Turks, 21
Baïram, 34
Baise-main ceremony, 33
Balkan War, 202
Bedford College, 67
Beds, 176, 182, 188
Belkis Chefket Hanoum, 82
Birth presents, 91
Bosphorus, 171, 176, 177, 187
Breakfast, 177, 178
British King and Queen, 21
British prejudice, 55, 152
Broussa Lycée, 142
Broussa Village, 148
Browne, Professor E. G., of Cambridge, 104-105
Cadines (Sultan’s wives), 92
Calfat, or slave, 10
Charms, 184
_Cherchez la femme_, 79
Cherif, Stay in the house of a, 192
Chocolate, Description of Miss, 24-25
Christian Church, Attitude of, towards women, 74
Christian Cross, the, 157
Christmas in a Moslem home, 210
Civilizations, Collision between old and young, 83
Classes for women, 78
Coffee, 171
Court ladies, 35
Court officials, 39
Dames de Sion, 118
Death, Natural attitude towards, 50
Divorce easy in Turkey, 85
Djémal Pasha, 31, 60, 61, 81, 202 _et seq._
Djemil Pasha, Prefect of Constantinople, 63
Djevdat Pasha, 110
Dresses, 172
East End of London, 72
Eminé Semié Hanoum, 113
Enver Pasha, 202 _et seq._
Eunuchs, Sale of, 26
Europe, Duty of, towards Turkey, 62
European furniture, 19
Eyoub, 162 _et seq._, 169
Fanaticism, 29, 30
Father of the people, 23
Fâtima Alié Hanoum, 109, 110, 191
Feminist meeting, 64
Feminist Turkish Government, 81
Fitzgerald, translator of Omar Khayyam, 105
Flowers, 185, 186
Football in Turkey, 161
Foreign languages, Knowledge of, 42
France, Anatole, 118
German influence, 204 _et seq._
German Mission, 204
_Goeben_ and _Breslau_, 209
Governments, Comparison between Turkish and British, 80
Grand Vizier, Prince Said Halim, 124
Green Mosque at Broussa, 124
“Hadgi,” 183, 184
Hadgi Vadt, 141
Hair (crowning glory of Turkish women), 86, 172
Hakky Pasha, 208
Halidé-Hanoum, 17, 18, 66, 69, 76, 107, 108
_Hamidieh_ (Warship), 82
Harem, Imperial, 43
Harem shopping, 31
Harem tea-parties, 94
Haremlik, 180, 191
Hasnadar Ousta, 39, 41, 46
Hind (writer), 112
Hospitality of Turks, 23, 173, 174
House, Turkish, 56, 57, 170, 180
Hugo, Victor, 118
Kadinlar-Dunyassi, 65, 114, 115
Kara Kheuz, 141
Kemal, 116
Key, Ellen, 107
Kipling, 118
Lady of Paradise, 111
Lazarists, 118
Leyla (poetess), 111
Leyla Hanoum (modern Turkish writer), 113
Liman von Sanders, General, 205
Loti, Pierre, 90, 118, 124, 125
Marriage, Turkish, 93, 95-8
Married Women’s Property Act in Turkey, 91
Marschall von Bieberstein, the late Baron, 207
Medressa, 126
Mehmeth V., 46
Melek, 116
Menus, Turkish, 59, 60
Messageries Maritimes, 13
Mihri (famous poetess), 112
Military College at Broussa, 83
_Mongal_, 188
Montagu, Lady Mary, 112
Mosque, Sultan Fathij, 167
Mothers-in-law, Turkish, 93, 95
Movement, “Turkey for the Turks,” 20, 68, 71
Navy League, Turkish, 85
Niguar Hanoum, 113
Order of Chefakat, 40
Patriotism, 84
Perote, 14
Photography and Moslem religion, 27
Picnic, A Turkish, 190 _et seq._
Place of honour, 22
Polygamy and Paquin, 57
Pope Leo XIII., 21
Proclamation of Constitution, its effect on
condition of Turkish women, 15
Purity of Turkish women, 109
Quakers, 134
Red Crescent Society, 16, 88, 89
Red Cross Society, 89, 114
Restaurant, Turkish woman’s first, 5
Roses, 185
Roses, Alexandra, 85
Rousseau, J. J., 117, 118
School of Arts and Crafts (Belgian), 161
Selamlik, 180, 189, 191
Selma Hanoum, 81
Servants in Turkish House, 158
Serving coffee, 54
Sèvres china in Imperial Harem, 43
Sheik-ul-Islam, 63
Shinasi Effendi, 115
Slaves, Sale of, 26
Soldiers, Wounded, 87
Suchon, Admiral, 209
Suffragette, Admiration for militant, 77
Sutanna, 128, 129, 132
Swedish drill, 61
Talaat Bey, 31, 61, 63
Talaat-Djavid, 202
Taqui, 173, 177, 178, 181, 185
Theatre, Turkish, 75
Tolerance towards all religions, 156
Turkish baths, 146
Turkish defeat, Reasons for, 144
Turkish language, Ignorance of, 66
Validé-Sultana, 92
Vatran, 116
Veil, Tyranny of the, 76
Veils no protection, 69, 70
Vigny, 118
_Visites de cérémonie_, 182
Voltaire, 118
Wangenheim, Baron von, 205, 209
Wells, H. G., 118
Wilhelm II. of Germany, 205
Womanhood, Society for elevation of, 64
Woman’s rôle according to the Koran, 68
Yali, on the shores of the Bosphorus, 187
Young Turkey, Unfair criticism of, 157
Zeyneb, 29, 90, 106, 116, 154, 155, 187, 188, 189
Zeyneb (professor at the University of Baghdad), 111
* * * * *
PRINTED BY
HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,
LONDON AND AYLESBURY.
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Footnotes have been moved to the end of each chapter and relabeled
consecutively through the document.
Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
mentioned, except for the frontispiece.
Punctuation has been made consistent.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
been corrected.
The source scans for this ebook do not include the two illustrations
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