As regards the religious question, the work of the Young Turks was made easy by the Sheikh-ul-Islam, who—so soon as he had administered to the Sultan the oath by which the latter swore to respect the Constitution—proclaimed to the faithful that constitutional government was not contrary to, but was in accordance with, the teaching of the Koran; he rebuked the fanatics who were preaching against the reforms as being anti-religious, and saw to it that the mosques were not used as centres of reactionary agitation and intrigue. For the reactionaries were not idle, and, in European as well as in Asiatic Turkey, their agents—often ex-Palace spies disguised as doctors of the sacred law and hodjas—were appealing to Moslem bigotry and denouncing the Constitution as the invention of the Evil One himself. To counteract this mischievous propaganda the Committee sent out its own missionaries all over the country, and doctors learned in the sacred law and others enlightened the people, supporting their arguments with quotations from the Koran, and in many cases preaching sermons that had been written for this purpose by the Sheikh-ul-Islam himself. It was also a great help to the cause that nearly all the Turkish press supported the Committee. Indeed, during the first few months of the new régime, a paper holding the unpopular opposite opinions would have had but few readers.
The Committee, having army, religion, and press on its side, was strong enough to dominate the Palace. It demanded of the Sultan the signing of Iradé after Iradé, and if the required Imperial decree was not immediately forthcoming, a threat that the Adrianople army would march upon Constantinople within twenty-four hours always produced the desired effect. Thus, within a few days after the proclamation of the Constitution, Abdul Hamid had to sign Iradés by virtue of which he granted a general amnesty, the release of all political prisoners, the abolition of the spy system, the inviolability of domicile, a free press, the abolition of the censorship, the liberty of the individual to travel in foreign countries, in short, all the privileges enjoyed by the citizens of free countries.
Then the Sultan was compelled to dismiss his favourites and principal advisers, including his hated secretary, Izzet Pasha, his old Arab astrologer, Abdul Houda, Tashin Pasha, and Ismail Pasha, the founder of the detestable military spy system. The Camarilla, that had all but destroyed Turkey, was broken up and scattered. Izzet and several other notorious people effected their escape to England and elsewhere—fortunately for some of them, who, had they remained, would probably have been torn to pieces by infuriated mobs, like the infamous Fehmi Pasha. But the Young Turks, as I have explained, despite the intense hatred which some of them must have nourished against the cruel oppressors and traitors to their country who had acted as the instruments of the Despotism, refrained from vengeance, and there were no reprisals. Penalties were only inflicted where the country’s good demanded these. Some of the worst ministers of the tyranny were imprisoned in the War Office, or confined in their own houses on Prinkipo Island in the Sea of Marmora, where many rich Turks have their summer residences. Some have undergone their trial, and have been compelled to disgorge the public moneys which they had embezzled. For the rest it was complete amnesty, and when the Constantinople mobs began to occupy themselves in hunting down men recognised to have been spies of the Palace, in order to carry them off to the prison of the War Office, the Committee, whose word had to be obeyed, peremptorily forbade this practice. On the other hand, if any man took advantage of this leniency to indulge in reactionary intrigue, sterner justice was administered. Ismail Pasha, for example, the inventor of the military spy system, for very good reasons was shot in Constantinople in December last by a young officer.
The Committee recognised that one of their first duties was to complete the pacification of Macedonia. They successfully accomplished this within a very short time, and without bloodshed. The Greeks alone were causing any difficulty; but the Greek bishops, clergy, and leaders of bands came to understand that the Young Turks would put up with no nonsense from them, and that the sympathy of Europe would not be with them if they resisted the new régime. So it was not long after the granting of the Constitution that the last Greek band came in, and for the first time for many years there was peace in Macedonia. The British Government, recognising that there was no longer any need for European intervention in that region, withdrew from the arrangement with Russia that had resulted from the Reval meeting, displaying a confidence in the Young Turks that won their deep gratitude. The Young Turks had a very keen appreciation of the sympathy that was displayed for them by the English. To Englishmen travelling in the country, at that time, the sincere and hearty friendship extended to them by the Turkish people was most gratifying and affecting.
It is one thing to make a revolution, but it is quite another thing to undertake to govern and administer a country after the successful revolution has swept away the old order. The Young Turks showed that they were wise enough to know their own limitations. There were few among them who had any knowledge of administration, public finance, and diplomacy; so they decided to make use of the existing machinery of government. They got rid of the notoriously corrupt among the high officials, but retained the services of the more capable and upright of the ministers, provincial governors, and others, even if they happened to be Pashas of the old-school, fanatical Mussulmans who hated European ways, looked askance at liberty, and regarded with horror the scheme for giving equal rights to Christians and Moslems. But these old servants of the State were kept under observation, and they were promptly ousted if they failed to exercise their authority on the lines laid down by the Constitution, and faithfully to hold aloof from reactionary intrigue. As many of these officials were honest patriots at heart, though narrow-minded in their views, the compromise worked well pending the training of a new school of administrators belonging to the Young Turk party.
Thus to the highest office of all, the Grand Vizierate, men of long administrative experience have been appointed. So soon as the Sultan had submitted to the will of the people, the then Grand Vizier, Ferid Pasha, and his ministers had to go, for they were too closely connected with the Hamidian system to be trusted; but the three Grand Viziers who have so far succeeded Ferid—Said Pasha, Kiamil Pasha, and Hilmi Pasha—have all taken a prominent part as servants of the State under the old régime, Said and Hilmi having already been Grand Viziers on several occasions. Said Pasha, the first Grand Vizier under the new régime, has been the Sultan’s friend and adviser—disgraced at intervals like the rest—from the commencement of the reign. First, as the Sultan’s secretary, he helped his master to overthrow Midhat Pasha’s Constitution and to destroy the power of the Sublime Porte. A few years later, as Grand Vizier, he encouraged the Sultan in his Pan-Islamic dreams, and in his effort to deprive the Christians in Turkey of their ancient privileges. He had proved himself an upright and strong man, and in his old age he had modified his views and recognised the evils of the despotic system which he had helped to build up, but he was scarcely the right sort of man to be Prime Minister under a constitutional government, and it is not astonishing that his term of office lasted for but a few days. His first mistake was in the execution of the Imperial Iradé that liberated all political prisoners. He took it upon himself to free all the criminals as well, letting loose upon the capital, at that critical time, a crowd of murderers and robbers. The ever-watchful Committee, mindful of Said’s career, suspected that he had acted thus in order to cause disorder in the city, and so injure the cause of the Young Turkey party in the interest of the reactionaries. A week later a discovery was made that precipitated the crisis. Said, while drawing up a statement of the principal points of the Constitution, to which the Sultan’s signature was to be appended in token of adhesion, had altered a clause so as to leave the appointment of the Ministers of War and Marine to the Sultan, instead of to the Grand Vizier, as had been laid down by Midhat’s Constitution. To leave the control of the army in the hands of the Sultan was to place more trust in his word than the Young Turks were willing to do. So the Committee, as guardian of the nation’s hard-won liberty, gave the word that has to be obeyed. Said had to resign, and his Ministers of War and Marine were at once placed under arrest, as a precautionary measure.
On August 6, 1908, Kiamil Pasha was appointed Grand Vizier, and was allowed to choose his own ministers; of the members of Said’s Ministry he retained but two, the Sheikh-ul-Islam and the Minister of Foreign Affairs. The appointment of Kiamil was universally acclaimed. Able, firm, and patriotic, with an honourable career behind him, he was a persona grata with men of all races and creeds, and was the most popular statesman in Turkey. He had always been the steadfast friend of the English, and has many friends in England. The gracious telegram of congratulation which King Edward VII sent on Kiamil’s appointment produced a wonderful effect and did much to tighten the cordial relations between the two countries.
Kiamil is now about eighty-seven years of age. Throughout his long career this wise old man has shown himself incorrupt and a hater of corruption, a lover of justice, an advocate of reform, but moderate, unwilling to force radical changes on a people yet unripe, a man of wide knowledge, free from fanaticism and friendly to Europeans, while ready to protect his country against the undue influence in her internal affairs which has been exercised with such callous selfishness, to their own advantage and to Turkey’s partial ruin, by certain Powers.
Six months before the outbreak of the revolution, Kiamil was holding the important office of Vali of the province of Aidin, of which Smyrna, the commercial centre of the Levant, is the capital. Here for thirteen years he had won the confidence and affection of people of every class by the justice and usefulness of his administration. But the Camarilla ever hated a just and honest man, and Palace intrigue arranged for his destruction. He was falsely accused of being in league with the brigands of Asia Minor; secret instructions were given for his arrest, and a steamer was sent to Smyrna to convey him as an exile to the island of Rhodes. Under the Despotism exiles died quickly, and Captain von Herbert, from whose description of the incident in the Fortnightly Review I have taken some of my facts, himself saw the canvas sack in which it was intended to drop Kiamil overboard during the voyage—the official account would doubtless have informed the world that the Pasha had died of sea-sickness. But fortunately Kiamil obtained knowledge of the order for his arrest, and on January 12 he hurried to the British Consulate at Smyrna, and there took refuge under the British flag. The Consul gladly received him, and got into telegraphic communication with London. Sir Edward Grey commanded that British protection should be extended to the Pasha, who as a native of Cyprus was technically entitled to claim it. The Consulate was surrounded by police and spies, the steamers in the port were closely watched; but, despite all the precautions that were taken, Kiamil was able to escape in the steam launch belonging to the well-known banking firm of the Whittals, and got safely on board a German liner bound for Stamboul. The steamer duly arrived at her destination; the British Ambassador guaranteed that Kiamil should have interviews with the Sultan at which none of the Camarilla would be present; and the Pasha landed in the capital, thus placing himself in the power of the Despot; which was a brave thing to do when one bears in mind the fate of Midhat and others. Kiamil had his private interviews with Abdul Hamid, and spoke to him boldly concerning the evils of his rule, the ruin that was threatening the Ottoman Empire, and the corruption and villainy of the Sovereign’s entourage. But the Camarilla still remained to exercise its mischievous power until the very end, though apparently it dared not interfere with one still nominally under the protection of England; for Kiamil did not disappear mysteriously. He kept outside public affairs and dwelt quietly in his house in Constantinople—no doubt under the close surveillance of spies—until the successful revolution brought him once again to the head of affairs.
During the first six months of the new régime, that very critical period when the Constitution was menaced by foes within and without, and even the integrity of the Empire was at stake—Kiamil, as Grand Vizier, steered the ship of State safely through many dangers, and his shrewd and cautious diplomacy greatly strengthened the position of Turkey. His ministers, among whom were one Armenian and one Greek, were men whose characters were above reproach, and they did much to reform the machinery of their respective departments. Kiamil stood his country in good stead, and Turkey has good reason to be grateful to him; but he, too, after six months of office, had to resign, though with no loss of honour to himself, at the bidding of the Committee; and, as in the case of his predecessor, Said Pasha, the question of the appointment of the Ministers of War and Marine was the immediate cause of the Cabinet crisis—a matter concerning which I shall say more in another chapter.
Kiamil’s successor to the Grand Vizierate, Hilmi Pasha, is another man of the old régime. I have already spoken of the part which he took in Salonica during the last days of the Despotism, when the Committee threatened him with death. Long before any one thought that there was a chance of Hilmi’s becoming Grand Vizier, he was described to me as being an honest and able man of strong character, with a good record behind him, somewhat fanatical, and with little sympathy with the Christian elements of the population. As Inspector-General in Salonica before the revolution, he obeyed the instructions given to him by the Palace, and obstructed as much as possible the reforms in Macedonia—dictated by the Great Powers—which it was his ostensible duty to superintend. But to stand in the way of European intervention was no grave fault in the eyes of the Young Turks. Though the officer of the Despotism, Hilmi’s sympathies were with the cause of the reformers, and he is now trusted by them.
From the beginning, therefore, the Young Turks have placed at the head of the Government, not advanced reformers, not ambitious men out of their own ranks, but experienced men of the old régime, who, so far, have done well, and have been able on occasions to check hasty and ill-considered changes. In other respects, too, the Young Turks have manifested their moderation and wise opportunism. Foreign intervention is the thing that they detest and fear most, for it has worked nothing but ill for the Empire; but these men are free from any anti-European feeling, and while anxious, as soon as possible, to get rid of the Capitulations and other fetters which the Powers have placed upon Ottoman independence, they welcome European assistance to place their house in order. Thus it was at the request of the Turkish Government that France lent Turkey the aid of the great financial authority, M. Laurent, to assist in the reorganisation of the finances of the country and the establishment of less wasteful methods of tax collection, and that England lent the services of Mr. Crawford to conduct the reorganisation of the Customs. Turkey has also asked for, and has obtained, the services of an English admiral and several naval officers to help her recreate the navy which was destroyed during the Hamidian régime, and Baron von der Goltz, who has already done so much good for the Turkish army, is to be entrusted with powers that will enable him to bring it up to a high state of efficiency. The Young Turks, anxious to develop the great natural resources of their country, have also borrowed from France excellent engineers to superintend the construction of irrigation works and the execution of other useful projects.
While what is best of the old régime still supplies the higher officialdom, nearly all the men belonging to the lower grades of the Civil Service, as I have already pointed out, had become adherents of the Committee of Union and Progress some time before the outbreak of the revolution. Most of these men, under the corrupt system that then prevailed, had to supplement their miserable pay, generally in arrears, by taking bakshish and by robbing the State in other ways. This general impurity of the officialdom was loathsome to many of those who were compelled to follow the almost universal practice in order to keep themselves and their families alive. Minor officials knew that what was wrung from the people in the form of taxation was not spent for the country’s good, but was for the most part appropriated by the Palace gang, and it was but natural that they helped themselves to a share. But the Turks, in their dealings between man and man, are among the most honest of people, and public sentiment regarding official corruption has been undergoing a remarkable change since the revolution. The newspapers preached public purity, and the servants of the State began to realise that for the future the misappropriation of public moneys would not be at the cost of the Palace gang as heretofore, but at the cost of their beloved country itself, which was in sore need of money to further its regeneration and to strengthen its defences against the formidable enemies that threatened its integrity. I have told the story of the patriotic civil servants in Salonica, who abandoned their claims to arrears of pay in view of their country’s necessities; I am assured that the same sense of civic virtue has led to a remarkable diminution of the corrupt practices in the various public departments. I have heard it maintained that the Turks cannot change their nature, and that Turkish administration always has been, and always will be, corrupt, whether the form of government be despotic or constitutional. One might as fairly have argued thus about England’s administration in India, or in the British Isles themselves, but a few generations ago. A people who, like the Turks, are honest as individuals, and intensely patriotic, are likely to arrive at the right moral sense in a matter like this. The Japanese, who, while being as patriotic as the Turks, are not remarkable for commercial probity, regard it as far more criminal to embezzle the country’s funds than to cheat the individual; but Japan is the only country which has attained this high ethical standard.
IT is not within the scope of this work to deal with the foreign complications which followed the Turkish revolution. Suffice it to say that the annexation of Bosnia and Herzegovina in the beginning of October had the effect of striking what might well have proved to be a deadly blow at the party of reform in Turkey. It was the old story of an ambitious Christian Power, fearing lest a reformed Turkey might become a strong Turkey, treacherously obstructing her path of progress. Austria’s action gave the reactionaries their last chance of bringing back the old order of things, and they fully availed themselves of it. “These Young Turks,” they were able to say to the people, “used the preservation of the integrity of the Empire as their watchword when they rebelled against the Padisha; and lo! the first thing that happens after they get the power is the complete separation from Turkey of Bosnia and Herzegovina, a declaration of independence on the part of the Bulgarians and a separatist movement in Crete!” These arguments produced a considerable effect upon the ignorant, who blamed the reformers for what had happened and clamoured for rulers strong enough to protect Turkey against her foreign foes.
The reactionaries were wholly unscrupulous in their methods and were prepared to plunge their country into a disastrous war if by so doing they could restore the Despotism. Ex-spies and other reactionaries made demonstrations in favour of war with Austria in some of the mosques of the capital; they posted placards on the walls of the city by night, calling upon Mussulmans to massacre the Christians; and everywhere they attempted to foment disorder so as to discredit the Young Turk rule as leading to a state of anarchy. But the Young Turks knew that the preservation of peace abroad and order at home was of vital importance, and they displayed a firmness that soon made their position stronger than it had ever been.
In the first place, so as to overawe the reactionary party and the untrustworthy Yildiz soldiery, they garrisoned the capital with a large force of Macedonian troops loyal to the Constitution, who could be relied upon to suppress a rising in the firmest manner. Loyal troops were also employed to police the city; all reactionary assemblies were stopped and the agitators were cast into prison.
The machinations of the reactionaries, however, produced some effect. For a considerable time Constantinople was in an overwrought and nervous condition, and various incidents inspired the Christian inhabitants with a great dread of impending peril. These Greeks, Armenians, Levantines, and others, timid of nature after their ages of oppression, suffered from an epidemic of panic, acute fits of which were daily brought about by very small causes. Thus, one day at about this time, as I was walking through the Grand Bazaar in Stamboul I witnessed the following incident which showed the jumpy condition of the population. A man, revolver in hand, chased by soldiers and others, suddenly appeared, running at full speed through the crowded lanes of the Bazaar. This was quite enough to start a panic. Like wildfire spread the report that the Moslem mob, stirred up by the Softas, had at last commenced the massacre of the Christians. The scene was indeed an extraordinary one. Men and women turned pallid, wrung their hands, wept and howled, and there was a general stampede for the shelter of the houses. People ran into their own or other shops, doors were bolted, bars were drawn, shutters were closed, and in a trice what had been a busy mart had become empty and silent as a city of the dead, and remained so until Sami Pasha, the Minister of Police, came down to reassure the frightened Greek and Armenian traders. It turned out that the origin of this widespread panic was merely the endeavouring of a vender of contraband tobacco to escape from the soldiers who had been sent to arrest him.
On another morning the terrifying rumour spread from end to end of the city that the Second Division of the Imperial Guard, stationed at the Tashkishla Barracks, outside the Yildiz Palace, had mutinied under the leadership of the reactionaries, and were engaged in a sanguinary struggle with the Constitutional troops from Salonica. The facts had been grossly exaggerated but the incident was significant enough. This Second Division of the Imperial Guard, about seven thousand strong, including the Sultan’s faithful Albanian Body-guard, had for its post the neighbourhood of the Yildiz Palace. These troops, officered by men risen from their own ranks, who protected the person of the Sultan, had been ever pampered and spoilt; their discipline was very slack, and their loyalty to the Constitution was doubtful. Consequently the Minister of War, who by virtue of a recent Iradé was empowered for the first time to despatch the regiments of this favoured Division to any part of the Empire, decided to remove by degrees from Constantinople some of the battalions of the Division and to replace them with loyal, well-disciplined troops from Salonica. So in the first place two battalions of the Yildiz Guards, to the great disgust of the men, were ordered to those disagreeable stations, the Hedjaz and Yemen, in distant Arabia, where they could work no mischief. Eighty-eight of the men, who had but three months more to serve with the colours, claimed their immediate discharge and clamoured to be sent to their homes. As this request was not granted they mutinied and, coming out of their barracks, fired upon the Salonica troops who had come to replace them. The fire was returned, three sergeants among the mutineers were shot dead, others were wounded, and the remainder were captured. The Commandant of the Guards Corps then called out several regiments of the Guards, formed them in a hollow square, and addressed them briefly, explaining to them that the Government, while determined to improve the lot of all Turkish soldiers, would punish severely any act of indiscipline. The prisoners, many of whom begged for mercy, crying out that they had been led astray by others, were brought within the square, and the Commandant told them that they would be tried by court-martial. The ringleaders were afterwards shot. The troops of the Imperial Guard on numerous previous occasions had displayed a similar mutinous spirit, but the timid authorities had always overlooked the most flagrant breaches of discipline and yielded to the clamour of the men. The prompt and firm action taken by the Minister of War on this occasion cut short what might have developed into a serious revolt, and reassured the timid civilian population. It was recognised that this was no time for those in power to display weakness.
The Palace troops had thus been taught a useful lesson, and the Committee of Union and Progress still further secured its position by seeing to it that the bulk of the Imperial Guards battalions were scattered in sections over different parts of the Empire. Moreover, the General commanding the Second Division, a friend of the Sultan’s, was forced to retire from the army, and the command was given to an officer known to be loyal to the Constitution. Steps were also taken to introduce a better class of officers into the remaining Yildiz regiments. The Committee showed that it was determined to be the master. The General commanding the Cavalry Division of Guards and several other officers were imprisoned for agitating against the proposed supersession of officers who had been promoted from the ranks by those who had passed through the military academies; and other officers of the Yildiz garrison were severely punished for attempting to cause disaffection among the rank and file in the interests of the reactionary party. The Committee won the admiration and confidence of all right-thinking men by the way in which it exercised its great power for the country’s good.
It was very interesting to be in Constantinople during that critical time and to watch the replacement of the old order of things by the new, to see constitutional government developing itself before one’s eyes within the space of days instead of centuries. Everywhere one could contemplate the old and new facing each other in strong contrast, and to attend, as I did on the Friday following the military mutiny, the Selamlik in the morning and visit the head-quarters of the Committee of Union and Progress in the afternoon, was to rush, as it were, on Mr. Wells’ “time machine,” from the Middle Ages to the twentieth century.
Every tourist who visits Constantinople has witnessed the Selamlik, the Sultan’s procession from the Yildiz Palace on each Friday to worship at the Hamidieh Mosque, and the ceremony has been described many times. This particular Friday’s ceremony had a special interest, and the spectacle was one to make one think. I joined the throng of foreigners at the gates of the Yildiz, and awaited the passing of the procession. Here, from the steep hill, there is a beautiful view which forms a wonderful setting to the solemn function. In the immediate foreground, but a couple of hundred yards or so distant, is the white mosque itself; to the right stretch the heights on which Pera stands; below is the gleaming Bosphorus; and beyond it are the misty mountains of Asia, forming a noble background to the scene. There was much of interest to look upon as one awaited the coming out of the Sultan—among other things the gathering of the picturesque Moslem crowd; the arrival of successive detachments of troops with bands playing and colours flying in the breeze; and the massing of the troops along the short line of route and on the open space beyond. A greater number of troops than usual, about eight thousand men, were brought out on this occasion, and after the ceremony they were paraded and marched to the Palace, at a window of which the Sultan stood and acknowledged their salute. I watched the troops of all arms march up to the Palace, the tough-looking, red-fezzed, blue-coated Infantry of the Line, Artillery, Cavalry, Marines, and Engineers. There were troops, too, from every part of the Ottoman Empire, including the fierce and faithful Albanians of the Prætorian Guard, in white uniforms fashioned after their national dress, with wicked-looking yataghans slung across their waists; and Arabian troops in queer uniforms and green turbans; and they looked like what they indeed are, as formidable as any soldiery in the world when properly trained and led. It was a sign of the times that the first regimental band to arrive on the scene began to play, not the National Anthem, but the “March of Liberty,” which had been composed specially for the troops of the new régime, and the sound of it must have been scarcely pleasing to some ears within the Palace walls.
At last the muezzin from the minaret of the mosque chanted the call of the faithful to prayer, and the procession, passing through the Palace gates, slowly proceeded down the steep road, between the troops, to the entrance of the mosque, the Sultan’s approach being announced by the blowing of a trumpet and the shouting by the soldiers “Padishahim chok yasha!” (“long live the Emperor!”). I need not describe the well-known scene; there were, as usual, the officers in gorgeous uniforms; high officials of the Palace and the Government, among whom one recognised some few of the old régime, but none of the notorious instruments of oppression and cruelty, or the corrupt advisers who had ruined their country (for, happily, all these had gone, some having fled from the people’s wrath to England, others living under close watch on the island of Prinkipo, and others prisoners in the Seraskeriat); the led saddle horses; the white-veiled Mohammedan ladies of the Palace in close carriages; the ungainly black eunuchs walking with folded arms, not so insolent as of old, and no doubt fearful as to what might happen to them under the new régime which had done away with their mischievous influence; and lastly, escorted by mounted troops, in an open carriage, with the Grand Vizier facing him, came he who is the head of the Moslem world, the nominal ruler of the Ottoman Empire, the Sultan Abdul Hamid himself, his face imperturbable as he acknowledged the salute and trained acclamation of his legionaries. But it was a procession in which one seemed to be looking at the shadow of that from which Turkey has now delivered herself; one felt that all this pomp was but the empty shell of that which is now a dead thing.
Then, in the afternoon, I visited the head-quarters of the Young Turk party in Stamboul. Having crossed the Golden Horn by the Galata Bridge, and traversed the intricate lanes of the Grand Bazaar, I came to a quiet street of somewhat mean appearance, and in an unpretentious house, almost bare of furniture, I found the temporary meeting-place of the Committee of Union and Progress, the virtual Government of the Ottoman Empire. Here there was no pomp or ceremony; one might have been in the offices of some struggling architect in a third-rate London suburb. There was a room in which members of the organisation met in an informal manner to discuss their plans, and to put forth those suggestions which had to be obeyed by the ministers. There were other rooms in which men awaited their turn to have interviews with members of the Committee, and chambers in which one might carry on long conversations, as I did on several occasions, with courteous Young Turks ready to impart all such information regarding this wonderful movement as it was not deemed inexpedient to divulge.
I found these young Mussulmans who had freed Turkey quite unlike the conventional conspirators and revolutionaries. These were well-educated and thoughtful men, keen and energetic, with the light of resolve and great hope in their eyes betraying the enthusiasm which lay under their Turkish reserve and phlegm. The more I saw of the Young Turks the more I was impressed by their patriotism, their manliness, and their sincerity. There are naturally some over-confident Chauvinists in the party, but the bulk are men of shrewd common sense, as has been made manifest to the world by their moderation after victory, and their tactful methods of conducting the government of a disorganised country, and maintaining order throughout the Empire in the face of tremendous difficulties of every description.
All the members of the Committee of Union and Progress with whom I came into contact, whether in the capital or in Salonica, whether soldiers or civilians, were enlightened men, most of whom had travelled and studied in Western Europe, and had assimilated what is best of Western culture. Thus among the civilian members of the Committee are men who would gain distinction in any country, such as Ahmed Riza, for many years the chief organiser of the Young Turk movement in Paris, the President of the Chamber; Djavid Bey, the professor; Aassim Bey, the strenuous editor of the Shura-i-Ummet, the official organ of the Committee, who took a leading part in preparing the revolution in Salonica; Rahmi Bey, a wealthy Salonican who was long in exile, a descendant of the Saracen warrior who conquered Thessalonica from the Latins five hundred years ago. The military members of the Committee, officers of the état-major, have passed through the military schools, or have been educated in France or Germany, and most of them, like the civilian members, speak foreign languages. Among them are distinguished men like Colonel Faik Bey, and Enver Bey, now the popular hero of the Turks. Another member of the Committee is Turkey’s ablest artillery officer, General Hassan Riza Pasha, an old friend of mine in a way, for I discovered, on talking to him, that he was with the Epirus army during the Greek war, and that it was under the uncomfortable fire of his guns that I remained with the eccentric, but harmless, Greek army on the heights of Arta, and on one occasion narrowly escaped being killed by one of his shells.
DURING the interregnum the most important task that had to be undertaken by the Committee of Union and Progress, and one that caused it a good deal of anxiety for a while, was the preparation of the country for the coming general election of the members of Turkey’s new Parliament. It could not but be a dangerous experiment thus suddenly to give self-governing institutions to the ignorant Ottoman masses, who had endured thirty years of the worst of despotisms. It would naturally take long to make the peasantry understand that under the new order of things taxation would not be as it was under the old, that the money supplied by the people would be spent in reorganising and developing the country to their own great benefit. All that they knew of taxation was that it had been wrung from them to enrich the ruling clique, that Constantinople swallowed up the huge sums which were collected in every part of the Empire, and that little had been done for the people. It was difficult to convince them that taxation could possibly be for their own good. To quote from an article which appeared at the time in a Constantinople paper: “Persuasion in this case will be of no avail. Acts must precede arguments. Let works of public utility, roads, railways, harbours, irrigation canals, be undertaken at once. Let the police be organised. Let the troops in the provinces receive their pay and be given their proper clothing and equipment as in the capital.” If they beheld these changes, so advantageous to themselves, the people would no doubt gradually lose their profound distrust of everything connected with the administration of the State and realise that the sacrifices entailed by taxation might mean the return to the taxpayers, in the form of various benefits, of ten-fold what they had contributed. When the elections did take place it was found that great numbers of the poorer and more ignorant peasants, though as taxpayers entitled to vote, refrained from exercising their right, for they suspected the needful registration of being in some way connected with the exaction of further taxation.
In the meanwhile, people, prejudiced against all outward form of government and wholly ignorant of the elements of economics, suddenly found themselves the free electors of a representative assembly. Many people looked forward to the opening of the Parliament with grave misgivings. It is rankest heresy in these days to give utterance to such a sentiment, but one could not help thinking last autumn, when the result of the elections was still in doubt, that it might have been better to have continued the rule of the country for some time longer through a Ministry selected by the Young Turk oligarchy, and not to have conferred self-governing institutions on the people until these had been to some extent educated by the object-lessons of good government presented to them—the suppression of corruption, the efficiency of public departments, the bringing of prosperity to the wasted land, the wise expenditure on public works.
But it had been decreed that the Parliament should meet as soon as possible, so the Committee of Union and Progress set itself to teach the electorate the duties of citizenship, to explain to them what constitutional government meant, and to employ its wide-reaching organisation to secure so strong a representation of its nominees in the Lower House as to give the Committee the control of affairs. The Young Turks were too wise to be over-confident. They realised the difficulties and dangers before them. They knew that the reactionaries were intriguing everywhere and would seize their chance when they got it. The Young Turks remained on their guard, determined that the liberty so hardly won should not be wrested from Turkey as it was in 1878, and that if the Turkish Parliament failed as the Russian Duma failed, it should not be to make way for the return of the Despotism.
It was recognised that, far from losing its raison d’être with the opening of Parliament, the Young Turk organisation would be needed more than ever for the protection of the country, and would have to continue its existence, with the army behind it as heretofore, for a long while to come. The Committee of Union and Progress therefore held a Congress in Salonica in October, at which measures were taken to strengthen and effect the closer knitting together of the Young Turk party. It was arranged that all the Deputies in the Turkish Parliament who were nominees of the Committee should pledge themselves to support in its entirety the programme laid down by the Committee. Arrangements were made for the establishment of close relations between the Committee and the Army. The secret Central Committee, the names of whose members are unknown to the outer world, was re-elected at the Congress, but it was decided that it should no longer have its head-quarters in Salonica and that it should not hold its meetings in Constantinople. It was to have no known or fixed habitation. The Young Turks, therefore, apparently deemed it more necessary than ever that strict secrecy should be observed as to who their real leaders were. By this time the Committee had largely extended its membership, its sworn associates numbering about seventy thousand—all that was best of the Ottoman manhood.
As the result of the electoral campaign conducted by the Committee of Union and Progress their nominees are in an overwhelming majority in the Turkish House of Commons, voting as one man on all important questions. The Constitution arranged for the creation of a Senate, or Second Chamber, composed of notables selected by the Sultan. The Committee saw to it that the Senate should not become the head-quarters of reaction. It presented a list of names to the Sultan, who was pleased to appoint as Senators the persons thus suggested to him. A parliament, the bulk of whose members are sworn to obey the bidding of a secret society, may not be an ideal form of government; but there can be little doubt that it was the best possible one for Turkey during the early days of the new régime, when it was necessary for the very existence of the Empire that one strong and patriotic party should dominate the House and present a united front to foreign foe and home reactionary. It was no time for parliamentary dissensions, for the raising of delicate questions concerning the future position of the various races, with their conflicting aspirations, or for the discussion of the schemes of thorough-going decentralisation advocated by the too broad-minded theorists who would grant home rule all round to Turkey’s various peoples.
The Turks were novices at political combination, whereas the Greeks were skilled in electioneering trickery of every sort and were determined to obtain as large an electioneering representation as possible in Parliament. The Greeks undoubtedly entertained the opinion that, representing the brains and commercial wealth of Turkey, they should take a leading place, above all the other elements of the population, in the administration of the country. The Committee of Union and Progress was not of this opinion, and under its guidance the votes of the Mussulmans, largely supported by the Armenian and Jewish vote, secured the ascendency of the ruling race in Parliament.
It is a fortunate thing for Turkey that the people who conquered this land will still maintain their political supremacy under the Constitution. The situation would be a dangerous one, indeed, were the Greek vote ever to swamp that of the Mussulmans at the elections. Another revolution, not of so bloodless a character as the last, would be the probable result. It is obvious that for the Caliph, the head of the Mussulman faith, to be under the direction of a Christian Government would be intolerable to the millions of fanatical Moslem subjects of the Porte in Asia, who already regard the Constitution with great suspicion. It is absurd to suppose, too, that the Young Turk party and the Mussulman Turkish army have overthrown despotism only to hand over the rule of the country to what, for centuries, have been the subject races. The Turks hold the inconsistent, but perfectly justifiable, point of view that all Ottomans, of whatever race and creed, shall have equal rights, but that the predominance of the Mussulman Turks must be safeguarded. This may not be logic, but it is common sense.
The opinions and misgivings of the Young Turks, while the elections were in progress, were expressed as follows, in an article which appeared in one of their organs in the capital: “The Mussulman element is the one which, above all others, works to maintain the Empire’s safety and integrity. The other elements have, more or less, other ends in view. If we now deliver the government of the country into the hands of the non-Mussulmans, who can suppose that these would have Ottoman interests as their one aim? It is evident, therefore, that under present conditions, if we wish to safeguard our national existence, we must keep the government in our own hands, and be on the watch lest the other elements snatch it from us. But it must not be gathered from the opinions which we have thus expressed that we intend to refuse to place the other elements on the same footing of equality as the Mussulman element—that we wish to deprive them of their political rights. To make sure of a majority in the Parliament is a question of life and death for the Turks. It will not do for us to take it for granted that the Turks are certain to obtain a majority in Parliament because they compose a majority of the population. We state it with regret, that the bulk of the Mussulmans, not realising the importance of the elections, have not even taken the trouble to vote, and that those who have voted have not come to an understanding with each other, and have, therefore, failed to send an adequate number of Deputies to the Chamber. It would be interesting to know what line of action we ought to adopt if we found ourselves in a Chamber containing a majority of non-Mussulman Deputies. The laws made by such a Chamber would not favour the dominant element. Let us suppose, for example, that the Greeks were in a strong majority in the Ottoman Parliament, and that the question of the annexation of Crete to Greece was under discussion. How many Greek Deputies would disapprove of that annexation? And again, if the Bulgarians had the majority, what would happen to Macedonia? The Turks, who conquered the country at the cost of a great sacrifice, have proved that, with regard to the position of the other elements, they are guided by the sentiments of equality, justice, and liberty, but they will not tolerate the formation of a State within a State. Our non-Mussulman compatriots, who desire to live as brothers with the Mussulmans, must calmly examine their hearts and consciences. Let them have the courage to tear from their hearts all ideas—if they entertain such—which are prejudicial to the interests of the Turkish rule, and let them, without fear, throw themselves into our arms. They have nothing to fear from us; all that is asked of them is that they make us believe in their sincerity. But, whatever may be said in this country, it is the Turks who compose, and who will always compose, the dominant element.”
The Committee, therefore, set itself diligently to work to secure the ascendency of its adherents in Parliament. It selected as its nominees the best men it could find, who commanded the respect of the people, for the most part professional men in towns, and landed proprietors in the country; and it undertook the education of the voters in the exercise of their new privileges. It sent missionaries throughout the country to preach the cause of the Constitution, and to confute the arguments of the reactionary agents. It founded schools of political instruction in the villages. Its lecturers addressed attentive crowds in city streets. Even the theatres were used for the dissemination of political doctrines, and both in Constantinople and Salonica I attended plays written with the object of showing the horrors of the Despotism and the blessings of liberty under constitutional government.
One night I visited a Turkish theatre in Pera, where a company of amateurs—Young Turks, several of whom were officers in the army, whilst the others had either recently been released from prison or had returned from exile—presented a patriotic play entitled “The Awakening of Turkey.” In this remarkable play, though fictitious names appeared on the programme, nearly all the characters impersonated were well-known men, creatures of the Palace, reformers, and others, and whenever an actor appeared on the scene so good was his make-up that the audience at once knew who was intended, and received him with warm applause or cries and groans of execration, as the case might be. The play opened with a sort of prologue—“the Pasha’s dream.” The curtain rose and disclosed a room in which a white-bearded old man was sleeping in an arm-chair. He was recognised by the audience as a well-known victim of the Despotism. The Pasha, as he slept, dreamt a vivid dream, which now unfolded itself before us. The back of the room faded away, and we looked into the interior of a luxuriously furnished chamber in the Yildiz Palace. And here, in dumb show, were enacted before us some of the evil doings of the Camarilla that is no more. There we saw, made up to the life, the Sultan’s hated secretary, Izzet Pasha, and to judge from his reception by the audience he is safer in his English house than he would be in Constantinople. There, too, were the Sultan’s aged astrologer, Abdul Houda, and other Court favourites. Spies came in with lists of denounced reformers, and orders for execution or for the oubliette were signed. The tyrants bethought themselves to seek recreation in the intervals of their cruel business, so the hideous and fawning black eunuchs were ordered to bring in a troupe of beautiful Armenian dancing girls. A young Turk in chains was led in, tortures were applied to him in vain to wring from him the betrayal of his associates; so he was put to death there and then by the Court executioner, in the presence of his wife, who was on her knees imploring for mercy, and frantic with grief, while the callous Court favourites, with scarce a side glance at the bloody deed, continued to gaze with gloating eyes at the dance of the slave girls. Then a messenger came in with news that was evidently of importance. He opened the box which he had brought with him, and to the joy of the courtiers drew out the bleeding head of the murdered Midhat Pasha.
Then the vision faded away, and the Pasha awoke from his nightmare. It had deeply affected him, and in a long speech he announced his intention of fleeing from Turkey to Paris in order that he might help to organise the revolution by which Turkey must be saved. His son entered, was delighted to hear the Pasha’s resolve, and agreed to accompany him. The scenes of the play itself were laid in Paris. We heard plots being arranged by spies in the Turkish Embassy in the French capital, and saw them circumvented by an attaché of the Embassy, who happened to be a secret adherent of the Young Turk party. We witnessed the deathbed of the Pasha, who had abandoned wife and property for the sake of his country, and who, in a long speech, urged his son to persevere in the good work. We were taken to a Mussulman burial ground, where an eloquent funeral oration was delivered over the remains of the dead patriot, and we witnessed his apotheosis when angels bore him upwards to Paradise. The final scene represented a somewhat extraordinary entertainment at the Turkish Embassy, where a good deal of champagne was being drunk; suddenly, in rushed a newsboy carrying a poster announcing the proclamation of the Constitution; and the curtain dropped on the group of revelling spies, now overwhelmed with fear and consternation.
It was a gloomy play, mainly made up of long and earnest monologues, lit up occasionally with flashes of grim humour, but its effect upon the audience was extraordinary. The actors who represented the friends of liberty delivered, with great oratorical power, eloquent speeches, in which they preached the righteousness of the cause, and the beauty of sacrifice of self for the fatherland. They swayed the audience as they willed; for these were not merely clever actors who felt their parts, but men who had done, and were still doing, in real life, the things that they represented upon the stage. The audience hung upon their words, warmly applauded the patriotic sentiments, and showed their detestation of the tyrants and their pity for the sufferers. There were tears in the eyes of many men present, to whom, no doubt, the play recalled bitter memories. The audience was mostly exclusively composed of Mussulman Turks—soldiers, theological students, turbanned hodjas, and others. In the higher-priced seats were many officers of the army and navy, and two near relatives of the Sultan were in the boxes.
FOR some time before the elections for the Turkish Parliament took place, the Committee of Union and Progress was at great pains to explain its programme as fully and clearly as was possible to the people. From the articles which appeared in the newspapers of the party and the conversations which could be had without difficulty with members of the Committee one was able to form a fairly complete conception of the principal aims of the reformers. The title of the Committee, “Union and Progress,” well sums up these aims. Turkey is to be made strong and free, respected by the nations, first by union—by the union of all natives of Turkey of whatsoever creed or race. They are to enjoy equal rights. No advantage is to be given to any religion. The Young Turks announced that this tolerance was not to be merely a passive one, that where Christian populations had no churches or schools these would be provided for them at the expense of the State, and that in these schools the teaching of such national languages as Albanian or Servian would be permitted. In the second place, Turkey is to be made strong by progress—the regeneration of a people whose energies have been sterilised by a long oppression, the restoration of prosperity to an impoverished land. The people are to be educated, and the vast resources of the country are to be developed.
Instead of dreaming of impossible social reforms, the Young Turks have very practical ends in view. In the first place, they recognise that it is essential to the existence of Turkey that she should possess a strong army, as otherwise her very progress may prove her ruin, arousing the cupidity of those of her neighbours who have already divided among them so much of her rich land. So Turkey, having no desire to sow that others may reap, is determined to create an army equal in strength to that of any of the great military Powers. To possess such an army the Turks are prepared to make great sacrifices. The exemption from conscription enjoyed by certain cities and districts will be withdrawn gradually. The Moslems will no longer bear the whole burden of the conscription; for the future the Christians also will have to serve in the army, and the view of the Turkish Generals with whom I have spoken is that there should be no formation of exclusively Moslem or exclusively Christian regiments, but that men of different creeds should be mingled in each unit. The Greeks, who want all the rights of Ottoman citizenship without its obligations, entertain a strong objection to service in the Turkish army.
But Turkey cannot maintain a great army without money, and money she can only obtain by developing her vast mineral and agricultural resources with foreign capital. Under the old régime, Court intrigue made all industrial enterprise precarious, and foreign capitalists were chary of ventures in a country where rights of property were so insecure. But by means of the good government which the Young Turks are introducing they hope to gain the confidence of foreign investors. They realise that, to quote from a Constantinople paper, “Turkey cannot have reform without money or money without reform; foreign capital she must have in order to carry out the reforms, and foreign capital will not come in until there is a satisfactory assurance that the reforms will be carried out, that the money provided will be spent properly and not be stolen and wasted as it was under the old régime.”
The programme of the more necessary reforms was set forth with some detail by the press of the Young Turk party during its electioneering campaign, and the abolition of the old corrupt system of administration, whereby bribery and bakshish had to supplement the inadequate pay—often years in arrears—of the servants of the State, was of course insisted upon. The following are among the more important of the projects recommended by the Young Turk party: (1) The construction of many thousands of miles of roads to open out the country; at the present time some of the railway lines are of very little service, as roads to bring to them the produce of the neighbouring country at moderate cost are wanting. (2) The construction of four thousand kilometres of railway; certain railways are urgently needed if the enormous mineral wealth of the country is to be developed by foreign capital; the difficulties of transport now prohibit mining enterprise in most richly mineralised districts. (3) The bringing under cultivation again of the formerly productive arable districts in the Vilayets of Salonica, Smyrna, etc. (4) The construction of commercial ports at Dedeaghatch, Samsoun, Mersina, etc. (5) The construction of irrigation works in Mesopotamia and elsewhere; there are thousands of square miles of uncultivated land in Turkey only awaiting irrigation to make them exceedingly productive. (6) The engaging of French engineers to make navigable waterways of the Vardar, Maritza, Boyana, and Kizil-Irmak. (7) The foundation of an engineering college, coupled with a scheme for sending students who have gained diplomas to Europe to gain practical knowledge. (8) The formation of navigation, commercial, and industrial companies, with the object of forwarding the prosperity of the country.
It is outside the scope of this book to deal with the complicated question of Turkey’s financial position, which, according to the experts, is not so unsatisfactory as was at first supposed; but there are, of course, immense difficulties to be overcome before Turkey can see herself fairly started on the road of progress. The late régime burdened her with obligations which stand in the way of all attempts at reform; but these obstacles might be removed by the co-operation of the Powers interested. Whenever some measure for Turkey’s good is proposed there seems to jump up some capitulation or some privileged interest of one Power or another to block it hopelessly. The Baghdad Railway concession, for example, with its kilometric guarantee, is like a mill-stone round the neck of Turkey.
The Young Turks recognized that if their country was to be regenerated and to take its place among the nations the revenues would have to be greatly increased with the least possible delay. As to ways and means, the following may be taken as summing up some of the views which I heard expressed by Turks and others whose opinion carries weight. In the first place (in view of the attitude taken by the more ignorant Parliamentary electors, who maintained that under the Constitution no taxes could be demanded of them) it may be impolitic to make any increase in the direct taxation of the country. The people, however, should be compelled to pay such direct taxes as are now in force until some better system has been devised, and the persons—and they are numerous—who by exercise of undue influence or otherwise have succeeded in avoiding the payment of their taxes should be forced to contribute like the others.
It is held, however, that whereas the direct taxes should be left as they are, reforms being made in the method of collection, several new sources of revenue could be tapped in the way of indirect taxation. In the first place, all the existing methods of raising indirect taxation should be maintained in their integrity, while the revenue derived from them should be largely increased by administrative reforms. For example, it has been calculated that the reorganisation of the Turkish Customs under the advice of the English expert, Mr. Crawford, will increase the revenue derived from the Customs by twenty-five per cent. Thinking men in Turkey recommend, not only the maintenance of the existing Customs tariff and other methods of indirect taxation, but also the imposition of still heavier taxation of this description until Turkey has been extricated from her present financial difficulties; and they also favour the creation of several new monopolies, to be preceded, naturally, by an amelioration in the conditions of the existing tobacco, salt, and other monopolies.
The very mention of monopolies is shocking to most economists, but political economy is not an exact science, and there are many exceptions even to the most widely accepted of its rules. Turkey must have money. The foreign capital necessary to develop her resources hesitates to come in, waiting to see its security. A monopoly affords that security and tempts capital as nothing else will. The English business men to whom I spoke in Turkey regarded the granting of monopolies for comparatively short terms as expedient under the present conditions in Turkey; for not only does this fostering of large industries provide employment for many people, but—what is of the utmost importance to Turkey at the present moment—it will also bring to the Turkish Government, without any expenditure on its part, an immediate and considerable revenue.
As the time for the Parliamentary elections drew near the Committee of Union and Progress published its political programme, and to this all candidates who were nominees of the Committee were bound to adhere. The following were among the more important of the Committee’s demands: that the Cabinet should be responsible to the Chamber of Deputies; that Turkish should remain the official language of the Empire; that the different races should have equal rights; that non-Moslems should be liable to military service; that the term of military service should be reduced; that peasants who had no land should be assisted to procure land, but not at the expense of the present land-owners; that education should be free and compulsory.
It was deeply interesting to be in Turkey during the elections, to watch the Young Turks zealously conducting their campaign to serve what they considered to be their country’s interests, and the people themselves puzzling out the meaning of this new Western innovation, the Constitution, and balancing the arguments of rival canvassers. The representatives of the Committee of Union and Progress were prepared to discuss patiently the intentions of the party with any group of electors that came to consult them, and while promising concessions to just demands, they did not attempt to catch votes by making wild promises which could never be fulfilled. Thus, when the Armenians—who have proved their loyalty to the Constitution and have not harassed the Government with unjustifiable grievances—asked that the lands which had been taken from the Armenians by the Kurds should be returned to the rightful owners, the Committee, realising that in practical politics there must be a law of prescription even for the raider, and not wishing to have a Kurd question added to the numerous other difficulties which were confronting Turkey, suggested that it would be wiser to leave the turbulent Kurds in possession of what they seized some time ago and to compensate the Armenians by giving them at least equally good lands in the once productive tracts which have long been lying fallow and deserted. On the other hand, the Committee could not assent to the proposal of the Arabians that the use of the Arab tongue should be permitted in the debates of the Chamber of Deputies. To Christians of all sects it promised that there would be no interference with their churches, language, education, and laws of marriage and inheritance; but refused to consider the question of complete administrative decentralisation, or of autonomy, for any portion of the Empire.
On the other hand, the agents of the reactionary party—the party of those who had fattened under the old régime of plunder and were loth to see the profitable abuses swept away—worked hard to influence the electors, but apparently with little effect in European Turkey and Asia Minor. Certain foolish agitators who were infected with some of the socialistic doctrines of Western Europe unwittingly helped the cause of the reactionaries by raising the election cry of “No more taxes for the people” and “Down with all monopolies.” I have explained that the more ignorant people thought that with the suppression of the late régime there would be an end of all authority. When they were enlightened on this matter by the Young Turks, and discovered that they would be compelled to pay their taxes as heretofore they felt some disappointment, and this afforded an opportunity to the reactionaries to point out to them that they would be no better off under the Constitution than they had been before, and that, at any rate, Turkey, under the old régime, had been a Mussulman State, whereas under the new order of things the government would be in the hands of bad Mohammedans, Christians, and Jews.
In Arabia and in other parts of Asia the efforts of the friends of the old régime, as might be expected, were attended with some success. The fanatical Arabs, who have never been reconciled to the Turkish rule, were impressed by the preachings of those who in the mosques denounced the Constitution, and declared that the Turks, who had ever been indifferent Mussulmans, had now abandoned the essential doctrines of Islam and were worse than the Christians and Jews with whom they associated.
But with the other races of the Empire it was still—in those early days of liberty—harmony, fraternisation, and enthusiasm; the racial and religious differences appeared to be forgotten for a while; one read of elections in which Christians were voting for Mussulman candidates or Mussulmans for Christian candidates. The optimistic Minister of the Interior, Haki Bey, made the following statement: “In our Parliament there will be no Turkish, Armenian, Greek, or Jew Deputies; they will all be Ottoman Deputies.” If one judged from the appearance of the surface one would have concluded that the proclaimed ideal of the Young Turk party—the union of people of all races and creeds within the Empire—was in a fair way to being realised.
The Turkish election law—which is now being revised—defines so vaguely the qualifications for a voter that a good deal of misunderstanding arose. Thus the Greek farmers in Epirus clamoured for the franchise, which had been denied to them on the ground that they were not taxpayers, the tithes being paid, not by them, but by the owners of the land. The Greeks maintained that, as this tax is calculated on the produce of the soil and not on the rent paid, the farmers were virtually the taxpayers and therefore entitled to vote. To decide what constituted a taxpayer in the eyes of the election law must have puzzled the brains of many a Turkish official at this time, especially when he had before him some cunning and plausibly argumentative Greek, determined to have his vote by hook or by crook. In an amusing case which was brought before my notice an importunate person was allowed to vote in his capacity as a taxpayer, though the only proof that he was such lay in the fact that he had on his back a coat made of a foreign cloth, which, if not smuggled, must have contributed to taxation in the form of Customs duties as it entered the country. The Turkish equivalents to English revising barristers had plenty of work to do in all the constituencies between Macedonia and Baghdad. It reminded one pleasingly of England to read of these things; but there were differences to be noticed here and there between the British and Turkish frame of mind during a General Election. For example, the Turkish electorate appears to be somewhat more exacting than the English, and it was announced that at Gumuldjina the imams, carrying the sacred banners from the mosques, assembled with ten thousand Mohammedans in front of the Municipality, to protest against the nomination as parliamentary candidates of “obscure and undistinguished individuals.”
The following are the more important features of the electoral regulations under the existing law. The elections are quadrennial. Roughly speaking fifty thousand voters are represented by one member of Parliament. There are two classes of electors; each group of about five hundred electors of the first class selects an elector of the second class, and the electors of the second class nominate and elect the Deputies. The following are among the qualifications for the franchise: An elector must be a male Ottoman subject, over twenty-five years of age; he must be a payer of direct taxes; he must have lived a year in the district in which he exercises his right of voting, and must produce a certificate from the moukhtar of his former place of domicile showing that he is entitled to vote; employés of the State and officers in the army, from the rank of lieutenant upwards, have the right to vote in whatever electoral districts they may happen to be during the elections; soldiers on furlough can vote in their own districts. A man is disqualified from voting if he has been condemned for a crime, if he is an undischarged bankrupt, if his character is notoriously bad, if he is acting as servant to another individual, if he has represented himself as being of other than Ottoman nationality. A Deputy must be over thirty years of age, must know the Turkish language, and must possess the qualifications of an elector. A good many of these regulations were not insisted on rigidly at the recent elections; for example, there are several Deputies who cannot speak Turkish.