The Ottoman Empire
In the period after the end of the Crimean War, the Turkish attitude to Western style reforms was crisply summed up by Stratford Canning, now Lord Stratford de Redcliffe:
European systems of government, European ideas, European laws or customs – no honest Turk will ever pretend to admire any of these… If ever Easterns (sic.) get imbued with Liberal ideas of government their own doom is sealed.1
Nevertheless, under the leadership of Mehmed Emin Ali, the ‘Tanzimat’ reformers did make considerable progress in bringing the Ottoman Empire’s institutions into the 19th century. The process was given a considerable boost by the Imperial Rescript of February 1856, with a pledge of a wide range of administrative reforms and racial equality. The more tolerant regime which this promised attracted refugees from Hungary and Poland, who brought with them new technical skills, imparting a new vitality and, it has been argued, the romantic nationalism of Central Europe.2
Among the practical problems faced by Ali and his reformist colleagues, however, was the extravagant spending of Sultan Abdul Mecid, who consumed a large part of the foreign capital which had been raised; in the end it led to Ali’s resignation. The foreign investment did bring some lasting benefit; the development of a railway system began in 1856 with the construction of a line from Varna to the Danube, and another line running back from Smyrna. The improvement of the lamentable communications system was an obvious priority, and spending on improvements to the road system and on the electric telegraph reflected this. Sir Charles Eliot sardonically observed the advantages which such rapid communication could bring:
It is no longer necessary to leave a province to the discretion of a governor, and trust that he will come home to be beheaded when that operation seems desirable. With the telegraph one can order him about, find out what he is doing, reprimand him, recall him, instruct his subordinates to report against him, and generally deprive him of all power.3
Although the Treaty of Paris preserved the Ottoman Empire from outside interference, in the decades that followed it effectively lost control over a significant part of its possessions. The nominal sovereignty over Serbia, Montenegro and the Danubian provinces was of less and less significance. It was, however, sufficient to embroil the Empire in a number of damaging disputes. So far as Serbia was concerned, there was a progressive retreat from the position of suzerainty. A settlement in 1862 resolved many of the issues that had arisen between the Serbs and the small Turkish minority; the civilian Turks were to sell their property and be removed from Belgrade; the Turkish military presence was confined to the occupation of their fortress at Belgrade and a number of river fortresses. In 1867 even these manifestations of Ottoman power were abandoned, and the garrisons were withdrawn.4
Relations between the Ottoman Empire and Montenegro had been equally stormy. In 1858 a Turkish attempt to invade Montenegro in yet another attempt to exercise some control over this tiny, mountainous and persistently rebellious principality ended in a crushing defeat at Grahovo. The Turks withdrew, and terms of settlement were negotiated by a conference of ambassadors at Constantinople. This settlement lasted only four years before Omar Pasha led another invasion of Montenegro, which was ultimately successful; the fighting ended with the Convention of Scutari.5
Egypt, which under the viceroyalty of Abbas Hilmi had behaved as a subject province of the Ottoman Empire at the start of the Crimean War, almost immediately reverted to practical independence after his death in 1864. His successor, Muhammad Said, still paid the annual tribute to Constantinople, but all important decisions, such as the approval of the Suez Canal project, were taken without reference to the Ottoman government.
The Danubian provinces, whose union the Congress of Paris had failed to achieve, were soon able to make significant progress towards this objective without the help of the Western Powers. Moldavia and Wallachia, holding separate elections, in 1859 each elected Alexander Couza as hospodar, an event for which the Congress of Paris had made no provision. The formal union of the provinces as the United Principalities of Roumania came about two years later; this was formally recognised by the signatories to the Treaty of Paris, who in fact had no choice. Although the Ottoman suzerainty was theoretically unaffected, the new state conducted its affairs without reference to Constantinople. In 1866, after the fall of Couza, Prince Charles of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen was elected ruler. The country’s independence was effectively acknowledged in 1877 at the time of the outbreak of the Russo Turkish War when the Turkish commanders sedulously avoided any operations that might amount to an invasion of Roumania.
Perhaps the most serious problem that the Sublime Porte had to deal with was to be found in the Levant. In May 1860 discord between the Roman Catholic Maronites of the Lebanon and the Muslim Druses began to lead to attacks by the latter. In July the situation deteriorated further with a violent assault by Muslims on the Christian quarter of Damascus, causing thousands of deaths. The Turkish authorities in Syria had done nothing to prevent it; if anything, they had encouraged the action. Even before the massacre began, Thouvenel, the French foreign minister, proposed that a European-Turkish commission be set up to investigate responsibility for the attacks which had previously occurred, to punish the guilty and take steps to prevent its repetition. Britain had dispatched a number of warships to the scene, and the French followed suit. With the worsening of the situation the Great Powers contemplated armed intervention, although there was enormous difficulty in getting agreement on this. Gorchakov, now the Russian foreign minister, was all for a very wide commitment that went well beyond what Britain, for instance, was prepared to accept.6
Ultimately an agreement on European intervention was cobbled together, and on August 22 four thousand French troops led by General Beaufort d’Hautpoul (who as a captain had been an adviser with Ibrahim’s army at Nisib in 1839) landed at Beirut, with a mandate for an occupation of six months. In fact, this proved insufficient time in which to restore stability, as a result of which there were further anguished negotiations to extend the occupation. In the end, terms acceptable to Napoleon having been negotiated, French troops departed in June, although the Anglo-French fleet remained to exert restraint upon the Turks.7
Prince Gorchakov, Russian Foreign Minister. (Hozier)
Napoleon’s willingness to intervene in the Ottoman Empire was not wholly altruistic; apart from increasing French influence in the Levant, it also enhanced France’s international prestige, which was extremely valuable to a ruler whose fertile brain was constantly devising schemes to rearrange the map of Europe. These not infrequently involved the Turkish provinces in Europe, which he was always prepared to use as a bargaining chip to resolve otherwise unrelated issues. One example had been the idea of allowing Austria to acquire the Danubian provinces in exchange for ceding Venetia to Italy; this idea was firmly crushed by the Russians. Another scheme involved a commercial approach; in 1861 he put it to Lord Cowley:
‘What would be more natural than to arrange a transaction of this nature – let Italy purchase Venetia of Austria and let Austria purchase Bosnia or Herzegovina of the Porte. Austria wants territory and the Porte wants money. Let Austria keep the half of what she obtains for Venetia and give the other half to the Porte.’8
He added, regretfully, that Britain would probably not consent and that in any case he knew that Russia would not.
The Serbian inhabitants of Bosnia would not have been amused to know of Napoleon’s ideas. The province was constantly on the point of coming to the boil, as it did in 1857, and as it would do so again in 1875. The idea that in due course Bosnia and Herzegovina would fall into Austrian hands did not go away; many of the schemes of rearrangement so energetically debated by diplomats during the two decades after the Congress of Paris reflected this.
Newspapers being read aloud in a Constantinople café. (The Graphic)
Although the Turkish representatives at the lengthy negotiations to deal with the problem of the Levant succeeded in avoiding the discussion of any specifically Syrian issues, there had been agreement on an international settlement of the situation in the Lebanon, which provided a structure that reflected the interests of the contending sects, on a district by district basis. With the centre of power thus localised, the inhabitants were spared the effect of remote maladministration from Constantinople.9
At the end of June 1861 Abdul Mecid, only thirty-eight years old, died of tuberculosis, and was succeeded by his half-brother Abdul Aziz. A huge man, weighing over sixteen stone, he was of a particularly autocratic disposition. He shared his predecessor’s extravagant tastes, and his general demeanour did not suggest a willingness to adopt Western liberal ideas. In spite of this, however, under the leadership of Emin Ali the Tanzimat reformers were able to introduce a number of measures that markedly improved the structure of provincial government; produced a reformed legal system; established a commercial code and, in due course a civil code. A lot of this reflected French culture and systems.10
The enormous British influence over Ottoman policy, as exerted by Stratford de Redcliffe, continued until he finally left Constantinople in 1858, when he was succeeded by Sir William Bulwer, a much less dominant personality. He shared with his predecessor a greater concern for the efficiency of the Ottoman government than for its adoption of liberal concepts. He was particularly concerned with reforms which provided opportunities for finance in an economic climate in which Western bankers, and their governments, actively supported investment in the Ottoman Empire. In his turn Bulwer was followed in 1865 by Sir Henry Elliot, whose views on the Ottoman Empire and what was permissible in its policies were in due course to be revealed to be entirely at odds with British public opinion.
Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria. (Illustrirte Geschichte des Orientalischen Krieges)
The reform process that continued in spite of the accession of Abdul Aziz did face intellectual opposition from a number of dissident writers who adopted a Muslim fundamentalist position. It has, however, been pointed out that in spite of opportunist support which they received from the son of Ibrahim Pasha, these intellectuals were loyal to the concept of the Ottoman state, and that they expressed a form of Turkish nationalism.
Abdul Aziz was looked on by Western governments favourably, not so much for his own views as for the apparent movement towards westernized institutions; he was received by Napoleon III at the ‘Great Universal Exhibition’ in Paris in 1867, by Franz Joseph in Vienna and by Victoria at Windsor. This tour of European capitals greatly stimulated the Sultan’s already considerable desire to possess more of the outward trappings of power and was, for instance, to lead to the rapid expansion of the Turkish fleet.
When Abdul Aziz came to the throne the influence of Emin Ali was the dominant force in Ottoman government. For eighteen years, during which he was Grand Vizier on five occasions, he had struggled, sometimes successfully and sometimes not, to maintain the reform process and to sustain the shaky finances of the Ottoman Empire. Much of the time his influence was sufficient to overcome the extravagant whims of both Abdul Aziz and his predecessor. When he died in 1871 it gave the Sultan the opportunity to choose Grand Viziers less ready to stand up to him; six took office in the first two and a half years after the death of Emin Ali, while the average length of term for a provincial governor was about four months.11
One of the strongest reformers was Midhat Pasha, who had been an extremely successful governor of the Danube vilayet; he became Grand Vizier in July 1872 but, unsurprisingly, lasted only three months, the Sultan taking exception to his proposals for a federal system of government, then to his establishment of an accounting department, and finally to his investigation of corruption within the Imperial Palace. Another Grand Vizier who was in due course to fall foul of the Sultan’s autocratic resistance to any encroachment on his power was the former commander in chief of the army, Hüseyin Avni, who served from February 1874 until April 1875. He was dismissed because of his efforts to divert funds from the imperial palace to the army.
Midhat Pasha, one-time Grand Vizier. (Ollier)
By now the Ottoman state was hopelessly insolvent. The series of loans from Western banks, the fruits of which had been squandered to a substantial extent on the whims of the Sultan, had left the Ottoman Empire with an enormous debt and consequently a huge liability for interest. In October 1875 the pro-Russian Grand Vizier Mahmud Nedim was forced to announce the government’s inability to meet the interest payments on the debt. The disastrous mismanagement of the state’s finances coincided with a series of internal events that were in due course to lead not only to the downfall of the Sultan but also, ultimately, to the fifth Russo-Turkish War of the century.
This progress towards disaster had small beginnings. The inhabitants of the little village of Nevesinje, some 25 miles from Mostar, in Herzegovina, protesting against the unreasonable tax assessments levied upon them, fled to Montenegro in February 1875. Prince Nicholas of Montenegro obtained leave for the refugees to return home, which they did, only to find that some of their homes had been burned. One thing led to another, the Turkish authorities displaying their accustomed brutality in dealing with the villagers’ protests; and finally the local population rose in revolt in July 1875. The rising quickly spread; Montenegrin rebels crossed the frontier, and other tax-related protests led to insurrection in Bosnia as well. The Turkish garrison, already struggling to contain the rising in Herzegovina, was unable to cope; the rebels received considerable encouragement from sympathisers within Austria-Hungary as well as Serbia, including shipments of arms; and it was soon clear to the Great Powers that these were events which would necessitate their diplomatic intervention. Ever since the Crimean War the Balkans had been seen as likely to provoke a serious international crisis.
Before, however, considering the events on the international stage, it is necessary to follow the course of events within the Ottoman Empire. As the risings in Bosnia and Herzegovina continued, they were matched by a rebellion in the villages of the Rhodope Mountains, in Bulgaria. In due course the brutal repression of this insurrection would prove the decisive event in the course of the descent into war; but for the moment it was a riot in Salonika in May 1876 that occupied public attention in Constantinople. This had been caused by the treatment by Greeks of a Bulgarian girl wrongly believed to have been a forced convert to Islam. In the ensuing riot, fanatical Muslems murdered the French and German consuls (the latter a British subject). The Great Powers, outraged at the failure of the Ottoman government to prevent the incident, protested violently; on the other hand, nationalist discontent about outside pressure brought thousands of theological students on to the streets of Constantinople to demand the removal of Nedim. The crisis gave Hüseyin and Midhat the opportunity they needed to plan the Sultan’s removal. In an attempt to preserve his position, Abdul Aziz appointed the former to his previous position of Commander in Chief. It was by no means enough; the situation in the capital continued to be so grave that the British government ordered the Mediterranean Fleet to Besika Bay. The moment for a coup had arrived; a fatwa of deposition was obtained from the Caliph, and Hüseyin ordered two battalions of infantry to surround the Dolmabahce palace.
There, on the night of May 29/30, Hüseyin presented the fatwa to Abdul Aziz who accepted his deposition. His nephew, the feeble and irresolute Prince Murad, was proclaimed as Sultan in his stead. He was, however, clearly not up to the task; a report in The Times of August 3 described him as sitting motionless on his sofa ‘meditating on his abdication and only wondering on which of his brothers may devolve the burden which is too much for his shoulders.’12
Sultan Abdul Hamid II. (Hozier)
Turkish troops in a village in Bulgaria. (Russes et Turcs)
His utter demoralisation had begun when Abdul Aziz was found dead on June 4, allegedly as a result of his suicide. It was accelerated by the assassination on June 14 of Hüseyin Avni and the Foreign Minister Rashid Pasha by the grieving brother of the former Sultan’s favourite wife, who had died on June 12 apparently in childbirth.
By August 17 Elliot was reporting on a visit by an Austrian neurologist to Murad, who had diagnosed ‘chronic alcoholism aggravated by the emotions he has gone though.’ It was evident to Midhat that the new Sultan must go; another fatwa of deposition was obtained on the basis of his insanity, and Murad was immured in the Ciragan Palace on the Bosphorus where he remained until his death in 1904.13
His place was taken by his brother Abdul Hamid II, who was proclaimed Sultan on August 31. Notwithstanding the immensely difficult situation which he had inherited, Abdul Hamid came to the throne determined to exert its power. Unlike his brother, he was a strong willed man with a clear idea of what he wanted to achieve. His elevation had only come about after the assurances he had given to Midhat as to his support for continued reform, and he duly appointed Midhat as Grand Vizier. Elliot reported that the new Sultan was of a ‘kindliness of disposition’ with ‘enlightened views,’ but that it was doubtful whether he would accept the restrictions which the reformers might seek to place on him.14