CHAPTER X

TURKEY’S ABROGATION OF THE CAPITULATIONS--ENVER LIVING IN A PALACE, WITH

PLENTY OF MONEY AND AN IMPERIAL BRIDE

Another question, which had been under discussion for several months,

now became involved in the Turkish international situation. That was the

matter of the capitulations. These were the treaty rights which for

centuries had regulated the position of foreigners in the Turkish

Empire. Turkey had never been admitted to a complete equality with

European nations, and in reality she had never been an independent

sovereignty. The Sultan’s laws and customs differed so radically from

those of Europe and America that no non-Moslem country could think of

submitting its citizens in Turkey to them. In many matters, therefore,

the principle of ex-territoriality had always prevailed in favour of all

citizens or subjects of countries enjoying capitulatory rights. Almost

all European countries, as well as the United States, for centuries had

had their own consular courts and prisons in which they tried and

punished crimes which their nationals committed in Turkey. We all had

our schools, which were subject, not to Turkish law and protection, but

to that of the country which maintained them. Thus Robert College and

the Constantinople College for Women, those wonderful institutions which

American philanthropy has erected on the Bosphorus, as well as

[Illustration: THE MARQUIS GARRONI, ITALIAN AMBASSADOR TO THE SUBLIME

PORTE IN 1914]

[Illustration: M. TOCHEFF, BULGARIAN MINISTER AT CONSTANTINOPLE IN

1914]

[Illustration: THE AMERICAN SUMMER EMBASSY ON THE BOSPHORUS

Not far away, across the Strait, which is here only a mile wide, Darius

crossed with his Asiatic hosts nearly 2,500 years ago]

hundreds of American religious, charitable, and educational

institutions, practically stood on American territory and looked upon

the American Embassy as their guardian. Several nations had their own

post offices, as they did not care to submit their mail to the Ottoman

postal service. Turkey likewise did not have unlimited power of taxation

over foreigners. It could not even increase their customs taxes without

the consent of the foreign powers. In 1914 it could impose only 11 per

cent. in tariff dues, and was attempting to secure the right to increase

the amount to 14. We have always regarded England as the only free-trade

country, overlooking the fact that this limitation in Turkey’s customs

dues had practically made the Ottoman Empire an unwilling follower of

Cobden. Turkey was thus prohibited by the Powers from developing any

industries of her own; instead, she was forced to take large quantities

of inferior articles from Europe. Against these restrictions Turkish

statesmen had protested for years, declaring that they constituted an

insult to their pride as a nation and also interfered with their

progress. However, the agreement was a bi-lateral one, and Turkey could

not change it without the consent of all the contracting powers. Yet

certainly the present moment, when both the Entente and the Central

Powers were cultivating Turkey, served to furnish a valuable opportunity

to make the change. And so, as soon as the Germans had begun their march

toward Paris, the air was filled with reports that Turkey intended to

abrogate the capitulations. Rumour said that Germany had consented, as

part of the consideration for Turkish aid in the war, and that England

had agreed to the abrogation, as part of her payment for Turkish

neutrality. Neither of these reports was true. What was manifest,

however, was the panic which the mere suggestion of abrogation produced

on the foreign population. The idea of becoming subject to the Turkish

laws and perhaps being thrown into Turkish prisons made their flesh

creep--and with good reason.

About this time I had a long conference with Enver. He asked me to call

at his residence, as he was laid up with an infected toe, the result of

a surgical operation. I thus had an illuminating glimpse of the Minister

of War _en famille_. Certainly this humble man of the people had risen

in the world. His house, which was in one of the quietest and most

aristocratic parts of the city, was a splendid old building, very large

and very elaborate. I was ushered through a series of four or five

halls, and as I went by one door the Imperial Princess, Enver’s wife,

slightly opened it and peeked through at me. Farther on another Turkish

lady opened her door and also obtained a fleeting glimpse of the

Ambassadorial figure. I was finally escorted into a beautiful room in

which Enver lay reclining on a semi-sofa. He had on a long silk dressing

gown and his stockinged feet hung languidly over the edge of the divan.

He looked much younger than in his uniform; he was an extremely neat and

well-groomed object, with a pale, smooth face, made even more striking

by his black hair, and with delicate white hands, and long, tapering

fingers. He might easily have passed for under thirty, and, in fact, he

was not much over that age. He had at hand a violin, and a piano near by

also testified to his musical taste. The room was splendidly tapestried;

perhaps its most conspicuous feature was a daïs upon which stood a

golden chair; this was the marriage throne of Enver’s imperial wife. As

I glanced around at all this luxury, I must admit that a few

uncharitable thoughts came to mind and that I could not help pondering a

question which was then being generally asked in Constantinople. Where

did Enver get the money for this expensive establishment? He had no

fortune of his own--his parents had been wretchedly poor, and his salary

as a cabinet minister was only about $8,000. His wife had a moderate

allowance as an imperial princess, but she had no private resources.

Enver had never engaged in business, he had been a revolutionist,

military leader, and politician all his life. But here he was living at

a rate that demanded a very large income. In other ways Enver was giving

evidences of great and sudden prosperity, and already I had heard much

of his investments in real estate, which were the talk of the town.

Enver wished to discuss the capitulations. He practically said that the

Cabinet had decided on the abrogation, and he wished to know the

attitude of the United States. He added that certainly a country which

had fought for its independence as we had would sympathize with Turkey’s

attempt to shake off these shackles. We had helped Japan free herself

from similar burdens and wouldn’t we now help Turkey? Certainly Turkey

was as civilized a nation as Japan?

I answered that I thought that the United States might consent to

abandon the capitulations in so far as they were economic. It was my

opinion that Turkey should control her customs duties and be permitted

to levy the same taxes on foreigners as on her own citizens. So long as

the Turkish courts and Turkish prisons maintained their present

standards, however, we could never agree to give up the judicial

capitulations. Turkey should reform the abuses of her courts; then,

after they had established European ideas in the administration of

justice, the matter could be discussed. Enver replied that Turkey would

be willing to have mixed tribunals and to have the United States

designate some of the judges, but I suggested that, inasmuch as American

judges did not know the Turkish language or Turkish law, his scheme

involved great practical difficulties. I also told him that the American

schools and colleges were very dear to Americans, and that we would

never consent to subjecting them to Turkish jurisdiction.

Despite the protests of all the ambassadors, the Cabinet issued its

notification that the capitulations would be abrogated on October 1st.

This abrogation was all a part of the Young Turks’ plan to free

themselves from foreign tutelage and to create a new country on the

basis of “Turkey for the Turks.” It represented, as I shall show, what

was the central point of Turkish policy, not only in the empire’s

relations to foreign powers, but to her subject peoples. England’s

position on this question was about the same as our own; the British

Government would consent to the modification of the economic

restrictions, but not the others. Wangenheim was greatly disturbed, and

I think that his foreign office reprimanded him for letting the

abrogation take place, because he blandly asked me to announce that I

was the responsible person! As October 1st approached, the foreigners in

Turkey were in a high state of apprehension. The Dardanelles had been

closed, shutting them off from Europe, and now they felt that they were

to be left to the mercy of Turkish courts and Turkish prisons. Inasmuch

as it was the habit in Turkish prisons to herd the innocent with the

guilty, and to place in the same room with murderers, people who had

been charged, with minor offenses, but not convicted of them, and to

bastinado recalcitrant witnesses, the fears of the foreign residents may

well be imagined. The educational institutions were also apprehensive,

and in their interest I now appealed to Enver. He assured me that the

Turks had no hostile intention toward Americans. I replied that he

should show in unmistakable fashion that Americans would not be harmed.

“All right,” he answered. “What would you suggest?”

“Why not ostentatiously visit Robert College on October 1st, the day the

capitulations are abrogated?” I said.

The idea was rather a unique one, for in all the history of this

institution an important Turkish official had never entered its doors.

But I knew enough of the Turkish character to understand that an open,

ceremonious visit by Enver would cause a public sensation. News of it

would reach the farthest limits of the Turkish Empire, and it was

certain that the Turks would interpret it as meaning that one of the two

most powerful men in Turkey had taken this and other American

institutions under his patronage. Such a visit would exercise a greater

protective influence over American colleges and schools in Turkey than

an army corps. I was therefore greatly pleased when Enver promptly

adopted my suggestion.

On the day that the capitulations were abrogated, Enver appeared at the

American Embassy with two autos, one for himself and me, and the other

for his adjutants, all of whom were dressed in full uniform. I was

pleased that Enver had made the proceeding so spectacular, for I wished

it to have the widest publicity. On the ride up to the college I told

Enver all about these American institutions and what they were doing for

Turkey. He really knew very little about them, and, like most Turks, he

half suspected that they concealed a political purpose.

“We Americans are not looking for material advantages in Turkey,” I

said. “We merely demand that you treat kindly our children, these

colleges, for which all the people in the United States have the warmest

affection.”

I told him that Mr. Cleveland H. Dodge, President of the trustees of

Robert College, and Mr. Charles R. Crane, President of the trustees of

the Women’s College, were intimate friends of President Wilson. “These,”

I added, “represent what is best in America and the fine altruistic

spirit which in our country accumulates wealth and then uses it to found

colleges and schools. In establishing these institutions in Turkey they

are trying, not to convert your people to Christianity, but to help

train them in the sciences and arts and so prepare to make them better

citizens. Americans feel that the Bible lands have given them their

religion and they wish to repay with the best thing America has--its

education.” I then told him about Mrs. Russell Sage and Miss Helen

Gould, who had made large gifts to the Women’s College.

“But where do these people get all the money for such benefactions?”

Enver asked.

I then entertained him for an hour or so with a few pages from our own

“American Nights.” I told him how Jay Gould had arrived in New York, a

penniless and ragged boy, with a mousetrap which he had invented, and

how he had died, almost thirty years afterward, leaving a fortune of

about $100,000,000. I told him how Commodore Vanderbilt had started life

as a ferryman and had become America’s greatest railroad “magnate”; how

Rockefeller had begun his career sitting on a high stool in a Cleveland

commission house, earning six dollars a week, and had created the

greatest fortune that had ever been accumulated by a single man in the

world’s history. I told him how the Dodges had become our great “copper

kings” and the Cranes our great manufacturers of iron pipe. Enver found

these stories more thrilling than any that had ever come out of Bagdad,

and I found afterward that he had retold them so frequently that they

had reached almost all the important people in Constantinople.

Enver was immensely impressed also by what I said about the American

institutions. He went through all the buildings and expressed his

enthusiasm at everything he saw, and he even suggested that he would

like to send his brother there. He took tea with Mrs. Gates, wife of

President Gates, discussed most intelligently the courses, and asked if

we could not introduce the study of agriculture. The teachers he met

seemed to be a great revelation.

“I expected to find these missionaries as they are pictured in the

Berlin newspapers,” he said, “with long hair and hanging jaws, and hands

clasped constantly in a prayerful attitude. But here is Dr. Gates,

talking Turkish like a native and acting like a man of the world. I am

more than pleased, and thank you for bringing me.”

We all saw Enver that afternoon in his most delightful aspect. My idea

that this visit in itself would protect the colleges from disturbance

proved to have been a happy one. The Turkish Empire has been a

tumultuous place in the last four years, but the American colleges have

had no difficulties, either with the Turkish Government or with the

Turkish populace.

This visit was only an agreeable interlude in events of the most

exciting character. Enver, amiable as he could be on occasion, had

deliberately determined to put Turkey in the war on Germany’s side.

Germany had now reached the point where she no longer concealed her

intentions. Once before, when I had interfered in the interest of peace,

Wangenheim had encouraged my action. The reason, as I have indicated,

was that, at that time, Germany had wished Turkey to keep out of the

war, for the German General Staff expected to win without her help. But

now Wangenheim wanted Turkey in. As I was not working in Germany’s

interest, but as I was anxious to protect American institutions, I still

kept urging Enver and Talaat to keep out. This made Wangenheim angry. “I

thought that you were a neutral?” he now exclaimed.

“I thought that you were--in Turkey,” I answered.

Toward the end of October, Wangenheim was leaving nothing undone to

start hostilities; all he needed now was a favourable occasion.

Even after Germany had closed the Dardanelles, the German Ambassador’s

task was not an easy one. Talaat was not yet entirely convinced that his

best policy was war, and, as I have already said, there was still plenty

of pro-Ally sympathy in official quarters. It was Talaat’s plan not to

seize all the cabinet offices at once,

[Illustration: ENVER PASHA, MINISTER OF WAR

A man of the people, who, at 26, was a leader in the revolution

which deposed Abdul Hamid and established the new régime of the

Young Turks. At that time the Young Turks honestly desired to

establish a Turkish democracy. This attempt failed miserably and

the Young Turk leaders then ruled the Turkish Empire for their own

selfish purposes, and developed a government which is much more

wicked and murderous than that of Abdul Hamid. Enver is the man

chiefly responsible for turning the Turkish army over to Germany.

He imagines himself a Turkish combination of Napoleon and Frederick

the Great

]

[Illustration: SAÏD HALIM, EX-GRAND VIZIER

Saïd is an Egyptian prince, who provided campaign money for the

political activities of the Young Turks, and, as a reward, was made

Grand Vizier. In this position he was not permitted to exercise any

real authority. He was promised that when the Young Turks succeeded

in expelling England from Egypt, he should become Khedive

]

but gradually to elbow his way into undisputed control. At this crisis

the most popularly respected members of the Ministry were Djavid,

Minister of Finance, a man who was Jewish by race, but a Mohammedan by

religion; Mahmoud Pasha, Minister of Public Works, a Circassian; Bustány

Effendi, Minister of Commerce and Agriculture, a Christian Arab; and

Oskan Effendi, Minister of Posts and Telegraphs, an Armenian--and a

Christian, of course. All these leaders, as well as the Grand Vizier,

openly opposed war and all now informed Talaat and Enver that they would

resign if Germany succeeded in her intrigues. Thus the atmosphere was

exciting; how tense the situation was a single episode will show. Sir

Louis Mallet, the British Ambassador, had accepted an invitation to dine

at the American Embassy on October 20th, but he sent word at the last

moment that he was ill and could not come. I called on the Ambassador an

hour or two afterward and found him in his garden, apparently in the

best of health. Sir Louis smiled and said that his illness had been

purely political. He had received a letter telling him that he was to be

assassinated that evening, this letter informing him of the precise spot

where the tragedy was to take place, and the time. He therefore thought

that he had better stay indoors. As I had no doubt that some such crime

had been planned, I offered Sir Louis the protection of our Embassy. I

gave him the key to the back gate of the garden; and, with Lord

Wellesley, one of his secretaries--a descendant of the Duke of

Wellington--I made all arrangements for his escape to our quarters in

case a flight became necessary. Our two embassies were so located that,

in the event of an attack, he might go unobserved from the back gate of

his to the back gate of ours. “These people are relapsing into the

Middle Ages,” said Sir Louis, “when it was quite the thing to throw

ambassadors into dungeons,” and I think that he anticipated that the

present Turks might treat him in the same way. I at once went to the

Grand Vizier and informed him of the situation, insisting that nothing

less than a visit from Talaat to Sir Louis, assuring him of his safety,

would undo the harm already done. I could make this demand with

propriety, as we had already made arrangements to take over British

interests when the break came. Within two hours Talaat made such a

visit. Though one of the Turkish newspapers was printing scurrilous

attacks on Sir Louis he was personally very popular with the Turks, and

the Grand Vizier expressed his amazement and regret--and he was entirely

sincere--that such threats had been made.

Ambassador Morgenthau's Story · 第 10 / 29 章