Reply.

To the First Secretary of His Majesty.12

The inner meaning of the words “safeguarding the Sovereign rights” contained the pith and kernel of the conspirators’ views and intentions. It had direct reference to a clause which the Sultan desired to have inserted in the text of the Constitution, or rather (and the difference is very material) to a rider which he desired to be added to a clause (the 113th), referring to the declaration of a state of siege in disturbed districts. The purport and intention of the clause would naturally govern its different branches. It could not possibly be supposed to apply to Ministers themselves, inasmuch as the Constitution specially and elaborately provided for their trial and punishment in clauses 31, 32, and 34 of the text. In spite, however, of the provisions and safeguards which were to hedge and limit the exercise of this prerogative, Midhat had long combated the insertion of this rider to the 113th article. Anxious above all things, however, to get the Constitution promulgated not later than the first sitting of the Conference, and not as yet fully grasping the character of the man he was dealing with, he listened to the explanations and glosses offered with reference to this rider, and finally, though reluctantly, consented to its insertion in the text of the Constitution.

It is easy to see now that this was the second error of tactics committed by Midhat. “Put not your trust in princes” is an especially wise injunction when you do not know the character of the princes you are dealing with. If Midhat had forced the Sultan Hamid—as he might have done, if he had been less trustful and more strenuous—to observe strictly the terms of the treaty of Muslou‐Oglou that Prince Hamid had agreed to as a condition of his mounting on the throne at all, Midhat would never have been banished, and the Constitution would never have been strangled. Good men are rarely as determined and strenuous as bad men. It is a pity, for half the political ills of the world come from this weakness on their part.

CHAPTER V

SECOND GRAND VIZIERATE OF MIDHAT PASHA

On 19th December 1876, three months after the accession of Abdul Hamid to the throne, Midhat was appointed Grand Vizier. His nomination to this post was again welcomed with great rejoicing in Turkey, and gave Europe generally hopes of the accomplishment of some reforms. Sir Henry Elliot addressed the following despatch to Lord Derby:—

“Sir H. Elliot to the Earl of Derby.

“Constantinople, 19th December 1876.

Midhat pointed out to the Sultan, in a letter addressed to Saïd, the danger of the delay and procrastination that would be caused by too prolonged discussion on the text of the Constitution; further, that the text which had been submitted to the Sultan was such as had been decided upon by the Commission appointed by His Majesty himself, and that that text, after having been submitted to His Majesty as it came from the hands of the Commission, was now, together with His Majesty’s observations on it, being considered by the Ministers as a final stage, requiring at most three or four days’ deliberation, and that any longer delay before its actual promulgation would assuredly raise in the minds of the friendly Powers a doubt as to the sincerity of the Turkish Government in the work of the reform; and he insisted, finally, that, in order to convince them of this sincerity, it was essentially desirable that the promulgation of the Constitution should take place before the date fixed for the assembly of the Conference.

At the very first Ministerial Council under Midhat’s presidency as Grand Vizier, held at the house of Mahmoud Damad—a significant circumstance in itself—the conspirators showed their hand. When the subject of the Constitution and its promulgation came under discussion, Djevdet Pasha, Minister for Justice, and Mahmoud’s man, who had hitherto been “lying low” awaiting developments, suddenly sprang upon his colleagues the proposal that the whole question of the Constitution should be indefinitely adjourned, on the pretext that with the change that had taken place in the occupancy of the throne it was no longer necessary. The indignation and wrath of Midhat can easily be imagined at the audacity and perversity of this audacious proposition; he apostrophised his colleague in no sparing terms, and pointed out to him that the sole ground and justification of the solemn act of deposition to which they had lent their countenance was the necessity of having the Constitution promulgated; and he made Djevdet and Mahmoud, and any other weak‐kneed colleague who might be inclined to support their views, very clearly understand that he would throw up his office and retire into private life if the slightest hesitation was shown on their part with respect to this essential matter. By this uncompromising firmness he dispelled any illusion that might have been harboured that a frontal attack on the Constitution, with Midhat at the helm, could be of any avail, and the opposition feigned acquiescence in the Grand Vizier’s views. The incident, however, was not the less significant, and ought to have warned Midhat of what was secretly preparing in the councils of the conspirators.

It has been said, among other equally groundless and disingenuous criticisms, that “Midhat’s Constitution,” as it has been called, was a simple device to defeat the Conference that was about to assemble. One single fact, vouched for on an authority that will not be disputed, absolutely disposes of this calumny. Sir Henry Elliot, referring to these very matters, distinctly says that Midhat Pasha and his friends had informed him that they were working for the promulgation of a Constitution, and explained their views fully to him, twelve months before there was any question of a conference at all: “This was more than a year before its promulgation, when it was declared to have been invented to defeat the Conference then sitting at Constantinople!”14

That Midhat and his friends used the fact of the promulgation as a weapon to oppose the decisions of the Conference is likely enough; but this was perfectly fair dealing, and a legitimate weapon to make use of. Another proposition which is not true, and is proved to have been false, is that the Constitution was invented for the purpose of defeating the Conference. It is abundantly evident that if there had been no Conference at all, the Constitution would none the less have been elaborated and its promulgation insisted on.

Another disingenuous and captious criticism passed on the Constitution by its enemies is the implication contained in the expression “Midhat’s Constitution,” as if it was a “one‐man’s” Constitution, and not the work of what may be called the national mind—that is, the majority of the best minds in it. That Midhat had a great deal to say in its elaboration, and still more in its promulgation, in spite of the unconcealed opposition of the Sultan, and the Palace, and the whole phalanx of reaction behind them, there can of course be no doubt whatever, and to his eternal honour be it said; but that it was a “one‐man’s” work, in the sense that it was not the expression of the wants and wishes of the nation, is disproved by all the circumstances connected with it. Chakir Effendi, one of its warmest partisans, was one of the most learned, distinguished and highly esteemed Ulema at Constantinople; it was he who headed a deputation of Ulemas and doctors of the law, to congratulate Midhat immediately after the ceremony of promulgation was over. The most enthusiastic champions of both Midhat and the Constitution were the Softas, or body of students, numbering several thousands, of all the medresses (schools and universities) in Constantinople, the future generation of the educated mind of the nation. The provinces, without exception, were in favour of it. The important city of Adrianople sent a congratulatory address to Midhat, which the Sultan would not allow to be published in the papers. The instinct of the masses looked upon it as the one resource in the dire straits of the nation. The very fact that, with an opposing Sultan clinging to his “sovereign rights,” and a bitterly hostile and determined Palace clique, and in spite of all the means at the disposal of Turkey’s nearest and most powerful neighbour unscrupulously put into action, the Constitution ever saw the daylight, and actually lived for a twelvemonth in such an environment, is the very strongest evidence that can possibly be adduced of its inherent vitality, and an undeniable proof that it was something more than a “one‐man’s” Constitution.

The Constitution, although the principal, was not the only subject of contention between the new Sultan and his Vizier. There were questions of persons, questions of money, questions of education that divided them irreconcilably. The Sultan, who had no doubt fixed on Edhem Pasha as the pliable instrument that he would need after the Conference was over, and when the work of getting rid of Midhat had to be gone through, desired to elevate one who, in his opinion, “was not quite the person for a very high position,” to a post whence subsequent promotion to the very highest position would seem a little less incongruous. He accordingly selected Edhem Pasha for the post of President of the Council of State, the important office concerned with the elaboration of the laws of the country. Midhat’s candidate was Sadik Pasha, whose competency was beyond dispute. Damad Mahmoud Djelaleddin wished to have Djevdet Pasha, his faithful henchman—whom we have already seen at work—nominated to this post, but even the Sultan thought his knowledge and intellectual capacity altogether too circumscribed. The accompanying letter shows the strong insistence of the Sultan on his own intention. He had the great advantage over Midhat which conspirators always have, viz., of having his plan of campaign with a distinct aim already settled, and knowing therefore beforehand the strong position which it was necessary to occupy on the field of battle.

Midhat, ignorant of the game that was being played, sacrificed point after point in it, considering their importance with reference to public affairs secondary to that of having the Constitution promulgated as soon as possible.

The following letter makes these points clear:—

To Midhat Pasha, Grand Vizier.

Another and still more serious difference of opinion, relative to persons, arose concerning Zia Bey. This person, one of the most distinguished litterateurs and poets Turkey possessed, who had been appointed private Secretary of the Sultan Murad, and whose nomination to the same post by the present Sultan had been made an article of the treaty between Midhat and Prince Hamid at Muslou‐Oglou, was suspected of inspiring certain articles in the Turkish paper Istikbal which threw doubts on the Sultan’s sincerity with reference to the Constitution. These articles gave great offence at the Palace, and were considered of dangerous tendency. The Sultan determined not only to proceed against the paper, but also to remove Zia Bey, at any price, from the capital.

The accompanying letter will show the feelings of the Sultan on the subject:

To Midhat Pasha.

In the meantime the population of Constantinople, who have been represented by interested critics as indifferent about the Constitution and reform, hearing of the proposed exile of this champion of the Constitution and reform, determined to prevent his departure from the capital by electing him as one of their representatives in the new Parliament. Consternation is not too strong a term to describe the feelings that this proposal excited in the Palace. Zia Bey had an influence among the people of the capital. What if his presence among them in the Parliament should checkmate all the plans of a carefully hatched conspiracy? The following letter clearly reveals this consternation:—

To Midhat Pasha, Grand Vizier.

As the concluding passage of this letter shows, the Sultan, whilst banishing Zia Bey, determined, pour encourager les autres, to proceed with all possible vigour against the Press. There was to be no faltering in so grave a matter. For this purpose the Istikbal was to be suspended, and a Draconian law against the Press prepared “within three or four days,” although by Article 12 of the Constitution this matter ought to have been left to be dealt with by the Parliament.

The following letters speak for themselves:—

To Midhat Pasha, Grand Vizier.

To Midhat Pasha, Grand Vizier.

Two other subjects of grave difference were the cause of a good deal of fencing between Midhat and the Palace. The one was the position of Galib Pasha, Minister of Finance, whom Midhat was determined to remove from the post of Minister of Finance; the other had reference to mixed education in the State schools, a subject on which Midhat had always held very strong views. But as the foreign envoys in the capital were now demanding the convocation of the official meeting of the Conference, it was determined to postpone the final resolution on these subjects till after the Conference was over.

The preliminary difficulties being at last overcome, or at least their discussion postponed till after the Conference was over, the date for the proclamation of the Constitution, with the Sultan’s famous rider inserted in the text, like the fatal gift of the evil fairy in the fable, was finally determined on.

On the morning of the 23rd December, 1876, in the big open space in front of the Sublime Porte, facing the apartments reserved for the Sultan, a large platform was erected, profusely decorated with Turkish flags. Hither all the notabilities and Ulemas and Ministers were convoked to hear the promulgation of the new Constitution which, in the view of its promoters and supporters, was to inaugurate a new era for the sorely tried empire of the Osmanli. It might indeed have been a day marked in red, the greatest date in Turkish history. As it was, it was only the first act of a stupendous comedy.

The notabilities were now assembled, and in spite of a downpour of rain, an immense crowd of people came to witness and applaud the ceremony. The troops lined the road between Sirkedji and the Sublime Porte, and along it, at mid‐day. Saïd Pasha, the first Secretary to the Sultan, in full uniform, preceded by a military band, arrived at the Sublime Porte, bearing the Sultan’s letter (Hatti Humayun) of promulgation, addressed to the Grand Vizier Midhat Pasha, and the text of the Constitution. The letter ran as follows:—

Rescript (Hatti Humayun) of the Sultan promulgating the Ottoman Constitution.

The reading of the Hatti Humayun concluded, the First Secretary ceremoniously handed the Grand Vizier the text of the Constitution, after reverently raising it to his lips. The Grand Vizier received it with the like ceremony, and then handed it to the Grand Referendary,16 Mahmoud Bey, who read it to the assembled people, while thousands of fly‐leaves bearing the text of the Constitution were distributed in all directions.

After the text was read, Midhat made a speech, expressing gratitude to the Sultan for the graciousness of this act in promulgating the Constitution, the immense importance of which he proceeded to point out to the people. When he had concluded, the Mufti of Adrianople offered up a prayer, and all the people cried “Amen,” and a salute of 101 guns from the Seraskierate announced to the whole city that “the Constitution” was proclaimed.

The Ulemas with the Sheik‐ul‐Islam (Hairullah Effendi) at their head; the Christian clergy with their patriarchs; the Ministers; the learned and distinguished Chakir Effendi, followed by the Softas and students; the representatives of all the corporations, and the populace of the capital, with flags bearing the inscription “Liberty,” came to congratulate Midhat, at his own residence, on the new era of liberty. In the evening the mosques were illuminated, and the people, carrying torches, paraded the streets, crying, “Long live the Sultan and Midhat Pasha!” Telegrams of congratulation were received from all the provinces of the Empire, expressing the joy felt at this great event. In short, the whole populace was in a state of rejoicing; the Palace of Bechiktashe was the only place not illuminated. The Sultan was indisposed.

Although it was contrary to custom for a Grand Vizier to pay an official visit to the religious communities, Midhat Pasha went the following day to the Greek and Armenian Patriarchs and to the Jewish Chief Rabbi, to thank them for their expressions of rejoicing at the new Constitution. He was received with enthusiasm by the patriarchs, and the Christian populace threw flowers in his way. The Grand Vizier made speeches in which he declared that he recognised no distinctions between Mussulmans and Christians, as they were all children of the same country, urging that all should work together as brothers to promote the progress of their country, under one flag, and by the aid of the new liberty pronounced by His Majesty the Sultan.

CHAPTER VI

THE CONFERENCE AND MIDHAT’S EXILE

The day fixed for the first plenary meeting of the Conference of Constantinople was the same as that chosen for the promulgation of the Constitution. That there was a purpose in the simultaneous occurrence of the two events admits of no doubt; but to conclude from that fact, as has been disingenuously argued, that the Constitution was a mere device to defeat the ends of the Conference, is, of course, absurd, and has been conclusively disproved.

On the 23rd December (1876), accordingly, the envoys and plenipotentiaries of the Great Powers met in the handsome building of the Admiralty on the Golden Horn, in the large hall that had been prepared for their reception, to discuss with the Turkish envoys the condition of the Christian provinces of the empire. There were present, Count Zichy and Baron Calice representing Austro‐Hungary; Count Chaudordy and Count Bourgoing representing France; Baron Werther representing Germany; Lord Salisbury and Sir Henry Elliot representing Great Britain; General Ignatieff representing Russia, and Edhem Pasha and Safvet Pasha representing the Empire that was to be placed on the dissecting table.

Scarcely had the preliminary formalities been concluded, when from across the Bosphorus, at the Seraskierate, was heard the booming of the first gun that announced the proclamation of the new Constitution. Thereupon a somewhat dramatic scene—that, no doubt, had been arranged beforehand—was enacted. Safvet Pasha arose in his place, and, addressing the assembled plenipotentiaries, said: “Gentlemen, the cannon that you hear across the Bosphorus notifies the commencement of the promulgation by His Majesty the Sultan of a Constitution guaranteeing equal rights and constitutional liberties to all the subjects of the Empire alike; and in the presence of this great event, I think our labours become superfluous.”

This little speech of the Turkish Envoy was received by the assembly in chilling silence. The somewhat theatrical coup had evidently missed its effect. After a few moments’ dead silence, General Ignatieff moved that the Conference should proceed with the business of the day. The proceedings themselves were not lengthy. The envoys of the Great Powers had been a whole month in Constantinople holding unofficial meetings among themselves, from which the Turkish delegates were studiously excluded; and the programme to be followed and the policy to be enforced had all been arranged before the official meeting took place. The object of this somewhat unusual proceeding was clear. Turkey was to be given to understand that it had to do with a veritable Concert of Europe, which, however much it might minimise the demands made by one of the Powers interested, would insist unanimously on substantial concessions from the Porte, and that the latter must in consequence dismiss any hope or expectation of dissensions or jealousies breaking out between the Powers.

The achievement of this unanimity was intended as the master‐stroke of Lord Salisbury’s policy. He did not imagine then, though he probably has realised it since, that the rôle he was playing at Constantinople had been carefully prepared for him at Vienna, and that the success of his efforts was simply the triumph of Count Andrassy’s policy. What remained for the Conference to do was, not to discuss measures, but to formulate decisions. There was, at any rate, this advantage in such a summary method: the agony would not be prolonged. The business of the Conference began, like a Dutch auction, with a maximum opening bid on the part of the Russian envoy. He proposed the autonomy of the province of Bulgaria, the appointment of a Christian Vali, the formation of a national militia, and the confinement of Turkish troops within the limits of certain fixed fortresses. The Turkish envoys having declared these proposals entirely inadmissible and beyond the sphere of discussion, the proposal was modified to what General Ignatieff designated “un minimum extrême et irreductible,” viz., that Bulgaria should be endowed with a special privileged government, and with an international commission to watch the administration, and that the appointment of its Governor should be submitted to the approval of the Great Powers. To this proposal, again, the Turkish envoys demurred, pointing out that the examples of Servia and Roumania, to which special privileged governments had been conceded with the other special arrangements now proposed for Bulgaria, were not encouraging precedents for a repetition of a similar experiment in Bulgaria: that the Mahomedan population in the above‐named States had not been treated with the equality and liberality promised and stipulated for, but had found themselves under the necessity of emigrating en masse from those countries, and that even the extreme concessions made to these States, removing all shadow of pretext for complaint, had not deterred them from joining the enemies of the Empire, or intriguing against it whenever the opportunity occurred.

Eventually, after a heated and rather academical passage of arms between Edhem Pasha and Count Chaudordy, a further modification was made in the proposals, but not without a protest from General Ignatieff, who said: “You are plucking all my feathers out of me,” to which Count Chaudordy replied, with pregnant truth, “You will always have plenty left, General.” The finally irreducible minimum proposed was to the effect that a Consular Commission should be appointed to aid the local authorities, and that the Valis of the three provinces, Bulgaria, Herzegovina and Bosnia, should be appointed subject to the assent of the Great Powers, during the first five years.

The Turkish envoys, however, could not agree to this proposal either. They pointed out that the appointment of the Consular Commission was an infringement of the sovereign rights of the nation, which it was beyond their competence to acquiesce in, and that over and above this difficulty the proposal was open to the practical objection that an exceptional situation created for those provinces would cause discontent in all the other provinces of the empire, and lead to unrest, and probably disturbance, in some of them; and they again pointed out that the moment seemed singularly ill‐chosen for insisting on special privileges for a portion of the Empire, when the Sultan had just promulgated a charter containing the largest possible measure of liberty and equal rights to all his subjects without distinction throughout every portion of the Empire.

This declaration of non possumus on the part of the Turkish delegates was followed by a most violent speech from General Ignatieff, immediately after which the assembly broke up without even listening to the protest that the Ottoman delegates were prepared to make to the speech of the Russian envoy.

The last modified proposal was embodied in an Ultimatum delivered to the Porte by the envoys collectively, to which an answer was required within a week. At the expiration of that time, if the answer was not satisfactory, they declared their intention of quitting Constantinople.

On the news of what had occurred becoming known, the conduct of the Turkish delegates was generally approved of throughout the Empire. Christians and Mahomedans vied with each other in sending patriotic addresses to the capital, and a battalion of Christian volunteers was raised, at their own expense, and marched to the Servian frontier, where they distinguished themselves greatly, let it be said in passing, by their courage and devotion.

Midhat, in the meantime, by the Sultan’s order, had convened a Grand Council of 237 persons, composed of all nationalities and notabilities, to whom the final propositions of the Conference were submitted.

Midhat made a speech to the notabilities, in which he pointed out the consequences of the rejection of the terms in question, and told them clearly that unless they were prepared to face this ultima ratio, they had no alternative but to accept the terms of the Conference. After listening attentively to this speech, the Grand Council, by a practically unanimous vote, amidst very considerable enthusiasm decided on the rejection of the Ultimatum. The foreign envoys accordingly left the capital on 20th January (1877). So ended the Conference of Constantinople.

It is necessary here to recall the fact that Midhat during the Conference sent the patriot Odian Effendi to London to communicate to Lord Derby the occurrence which had recently taken place in his country, and to add that as the Powers had not insisted on the carrying out of the proposals formulated by Russia, which were found to be impracticable in the present condition of Turkey, it was hoped that the Powers would take the new Constitution under their protection, and see to its execution in practice. The following despatch from Lord Derby to Lord Salisbury and Sir H. Elliot shows the result of this step:—

The Earl of Derby to the Marquis of Salisbury and Sir H. Elliot.