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IN S T IT U T E F O R M E D IT E R R A N E A N S T U D IE S

POLITICAL THOUGHT
AND PRACTICE
IN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE
Halcyon days in Crete IX
A symposium held in Rethymno
9-11 January 2015

E d ited b y
M a r i n o s S a r iy a n n is

C r e te U n iv e r s it y P ress
Rethymno 2019
 CRETE UNIVERSITY PRESS
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In memoriam Elizabeth A. Zachariadou (1931-2018)
 CONTENTS

Acknowledgements.................................................................................................................................X1
Abbreviations - Note on Transliteration..................................................................................... xiii

Introduction: Political Thought and Practice in the Ottoman Empire......................................... xv

PART ONE

INTRODUCING POLITICAL THOUGHT

I. M etin K unt, Ottoman Political Theory, Reality and Practice................................................. 3
L inda T. Darling, Ottoman Political Thought: Towards a Revised History............................... 9

PART TWO
WORDS AND CONCEPTS
H eather L. F erguson, Ottomans, Ottomanists and the State: Re-defining an Ethos
of Power in the Long Sixteenth Century........................................................................ 19
G ünes I siksel, « Le sultan des Deux Terres et des Deux Mers » :
représentations diplomatiques de l’espace politique ottoman au XVIe siècle................ 45
E lias Kolovos, Istimalet: What Do We Actually Know About It?........................................... 59
A ntonis Hadjikyriacou, Beyond the Millet Debate: The Theory and Practice
of Communal Representation in Pre-Tanzimat-Era Cyprus ......................................... 71
M arc A ymes, What’s In a Fake? Utterances of Late Ottoman Politicalness............................. 97

PARTTHREE
AUTHORS AND IDEAS
L inda T. Darling, Ottoman Political Thought and the Critique of the Janissaries.............. 117
Katharina Ivanyi, And the Question of Lands is Very Confusing:
Birgivî Mehmed Efendi (d. 981/1573) on Land Tenure and Taxation..................... 137
D erin T erzioglu, Power, Patronage, and Confessionalism: Ottoman Politics
as Seen through the Eyes of a Crimean Sufi, 1580-1593 ....................................... 149
X CONTENTS

Baki T ezcan, The Portrait of the Preacher as a Young Man:

Two Autobiographical Letters by Kadizade Mehmed
from the Early Seventeenth Century............................................................................ 187
M arinos Sariyannis, Ottoman Ibn Khaldunism Revisited:
the Pre-Tanzimat Reception of the Muqaddima, from Kinahzade to Çanizade............ 251
G ottfried H agen, The Prophet Muhammad as Model Leader - Ottoman Readings
of the Treaty of al-Hudaybiyya................................................................................... 287

PART FOUR
OBLIQUE VIEWS
K onstantinos M oustakas, Ottoman Greek Views of Ottoman Rule (15th-16th Centuries).
The Perspective of the Patriarchate Associates........................................................ 311
D enise K lein, Negotiating Power in the Crimean Khanate:
Notes on Tatar Political Thought and Practice (16th—18th c .) ................................. 319
A riel Salzmann, Between Saint-Domingue and the Sublime Porte:
A Caribbean Revolution, Ottoman Realpolitik, and the Inter-Hemispheric
Contingencies of Modern Political Thought............................................................ 349

PART FIVE
IDEAS IN PRACTICE
N icolas Vatin, Le pouvoir des Barberousse à Alger d’après
les Gazavat-i Hayreddin Paça.................................................................................... 391
E unjeong Y i , Atpazarî Seyyid Osman Fazli as Portrayed in Temamü’l-feyz:
a Sufi Text’s Relevance to Politics in Late Seventeenth-Century Istanbul.............. 417
V irginia A ksan, The Ottomans’ Military Manpower and Political Bargains, 1750-1850... 435
Y iannis S pyropoulos, Janissary Politics on the Ottoman Periphery (18th-early 19th c .)... 449
H. ÇOkrO Ilicak, The Greek War of Independence and the Demise
of the Janissary Complex: A New Interpretation of the ‘Auspicious Incident’........ 483
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

As th e editor OF this volum e , m y gratitude goes to:

Prof. Elizabeth A. Zachariadou, the initiator and for many years the soul o f the Hal­
cyon Days in Crete symposia, for her constant advice and support. Professor Zacharia­
dou an outstanding scholar, mentor and friend, passed away just a few months before the
publication o f this volume; she will be greately missed.
Prof. Christos Hadziiossif, Director o f the Institute for Mediterranean Studies at the
time the Symposium took place, for his support and constant encouragement.
My colleagues and long-time friends Antonis Anastasopoulos and Elias Kolovos, co­
organisers o f the symposium which brought forth this volume, who were always willing
to offer their experience and help in its editing.
The anonymous referees who contributed greatly with their insightful comments and
remarks.
Mr Geoffrey Cox, who copy-edited the texts with his usual meticulousness and con­
sistency.
Crete University Press and, in particular, Ms Dionysia Daskalou, for the excellent
work put into the publication process for almost 30 years now.
Ms Marina Demetriadou for her assistance in the organisation o f the symposium; Ms
Nesli Ruken Han and M r Ermolaos Karaklidis for their enormous help with checking the
proofs o f the proceedings. My colleague Yannis Spyropoulos for his assistance in some
aspects o f the editorial process.
M.S.

The Programme o f Turkish Studies

o f the Institute for Mediterranean Studies/FO.R.T.H.
gratefully acknowledges financial support received for the Ninth ‘Halcyon
Days in Crete’ Symposium from the Greek General Secretariat for Research
and Technology, in the context o f the project ‘OTTPOL: A History o f Early
M odem Ottoman Political Thought, 15th to Early 19th Centuries’, carried
out at the Institute within the action ‘Aristeia II’, funded by Greece and the
European Social Fund o f the European Union under the Operational Program
Education and Lifelong Learning (2007-13 Greek National Strategic Reference
Framework).
 ABBREVIATIONS

BOA: Baçbakanlik Osmanli Arsivi (Istanbul)

TSMA: Topkapi Sarayx Miizesi Arsivi (Istanbul)

ActOr Hung: Acta Orientalia Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae

ArchOtt: Archivum Ottomanicum
BSOAS: Bulletin o f the School o f Oriental and African Studies
EB: Études Balkaniques
IJMES: International Journal o f Middle East Studies
UTS: International Journal o f Turkish Studies
JAOS: Journal o f the American Oriental Society
JESHO: Journal o f the Economic and Social History o f the Orient
JTS: Journal o f Turkish Studies
NPT: New Perspectives on Turkey
OA: Osmanli Araçtirmalari - The Journal o f Ottoman Studies
RMMM: Revue du M onde Musulman et de la Méditerranée
ROMM: Revue de l ’Occident Musulman et de la Méditerranée
SF: Südost-Forschungen
SI: Studia Islamica
TD: Tarih Dergisi
TED: Istanbul Üniversitesi Tarih Enstitüsü Dergisi
THR: Turkish Historical Review
TSAB: The Turkish Studies Association Bulletin
TSAJ: The Turkish Studies Association Journal
VD: Vakiflar Dergisi
WZKM: Wiener Zeitschrift fu r die Kunde des Morgenlandes
El: E.J. B rill’s First Encyclopaedia o f Islam, 1913-1936
E f: The Encyclopaedia o f Islam. New Edition (Leiden 1960-2002)
iA: îslâm Ansiklopedisi (Istanbul, 1940-1979)
TDVlA: Türkiye Diyanet Vakfi Islâm Ansiklopedisi (Istanbul 1988- )

NOTE ON TRANSLITERATION
All terms and phrases originally written in non-Latin alphabets have been transliterated
into the Latin script. Transcription o f texts in Ottoman Turkish follows Redhouse Turkish-
English dictionary; for texts written in Arabic, a simple system o f transliteration has been
adopted. The editor assumes full responsibility for these choices.
No final - s- is added to plural nouns, such as ayan, ulema, and reaya.
 INTRODUCTION

POLITICAL THOUGHT AND PRACTICE

IN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE

M arinos S ariyannis *

I n the wake of th e ex tra ord inary em ph asis on ec o n o m ic and social history which
dominated Ottoman studies during most o f the second half o f the last century, other as­
pects of the Ottoman reality were neglected or under-studied.*1 Cultural history, one may
say, found its way from the early 1990s on, but political history and the history o f ideas
(or, as we prefer to say nowadays, intellectual history) were even later to regain the inter­
est they had been attracting in the pre-World War II period.
This was owing to a combination o f factors, including source availability and histo­
riographical fashion. Indeed, when the present author was entering the field, in the mid or
late 1990s, studying Ottoman history meant mainly studying archives. The Baçbakanhk
Osmanli Arçivi roared with scholars, local judicial registers and private document collec­
tions were the word o f the day, and tax registers were in their heyday; on the other hand,
if one had to consult an eighteenth-century chronicle or a travelogue, one had to spend
a disproportionally large amount o f time in locating and studying manuscripts, use old
faulty editions, or else confine oneself to very few sources. Only the fourteenth or fif­
teenth century expert had the privilege o f a solid corpus o f more or less fully studied and
analysed literary works, since archival documents for this period are just missing. Even
authors who relied heavily on archival material had started to speak o f ‘document fetish­
ism’ by the early 1990s, stressing the use o f documents at their face value regardless of
ideological considerations.2 On the other hand, what can be described as ‘narrative (or,
in a broader sense, literary) sources’, such as chronicles and historiography, biographies,
fiction, diaries, town descriptions, political essays and so forth, had been comparatively

* Foundation for Research and Technology-Hellas, Institute for Mediterranean Studies.

1 I wish to thank Prof. Efi Avdela for her advice and comments concerning modem European his­
toriography.
2 See H. Berktay and S. Faroqhi, New Approaches to State and Peasant in Ottoman History
(London 1992), 109ff. (on Berktay’s) and 235 (Faroqhi’s) criticism of “document fetishism”.
Berktay notes that “the illusion that historical truth can be seized simply by putting documents
together has reduced generations of students to document transcribers” (ibid., 157) - of course,
the same can be said about literary sources, although to a lesser degree.
XVI MARINOS SARIYANNIS

neglected for a long time.3 The relationship o f the neglect o f narrative sources (the “fear
o f the text”) with the lack o f interest in cultural history is very well expressed in a recent
essay by Dana Sajdi on the much-debated notion o f ‘Ottoman decline’:4

For a long time empirical research was obviated by the fact that the text, which delivered evi­
dence that was anecdotal at best and unreliable at worst, provided the main source for histo­
ry. The discovery of court records and other official documents was received with relief and
excitement, for these sources delivered vast pools of data... and allowed Ottoman history to
move from narrative and institutional history to scientifically ‘solid’ studies... Both Orientalist
scholarship and the related civilizationalist narrative had enshrined the text as the central piece
of scholarship... Thus, the associations between essentialist methods and the text may have re­
sulted in a general distaste for the latter. But it was not only the text that was disposed of; the
associated possibilities of discursive methods and cultural analyses were also ignored... Cul­
ture, in other words, seems to have had a bad name.

At any rate, during the last 20 years, grosso modo, there has been a remarkable turn­
ing o f attention towards Ottoman narrative sources.5 Again, this was a development
shared with world historiography, which witnessed (in the words o f Cemal Kafadar)6

a renewed interest in such sources, which were once seen as inferior to quantifiable records.
Turning the tables around, historians now indulge in the application of literary criticism or nar-
ratological analysis to archival documents, to even such dry cases as census registers, which
have been seen as hardly more than data banks in previous history-writing.

Indeed, a turn towards a new form o f historical narratives in European historiogra­

phy can be detected from the late 1970s onward, and it was natural enough that it was
accompanied by a revival o f the use o f narrative sources. Lawrence Stone attributed this

3 Back in 1989, Cemal Kafadar wrote of “the neglect, I might even say disdain, of narrative and
other literary sources, as well as of cultural and intellectual history in general”: C. Kafadar,
‘Self and Others: The Diary of a Dervish in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul and First-Person
Narratives in Ottoman Literature’, SI, 69 (1989), 121-150 at 123.
4 D. Sajdi, ‘Decline, Its Discontents and Ottoman Cultural History: By Way of Introduction’, in
D. Sajdi (ed.), Ottoman Tulips, Ottoman Coffee. Leisure and Lifestyle in the Eighteenth Cen­
tury (London and New York 2007), 1-40 at 28-29.
5 Cf. the introductory remarks by Nicolas Vatin and Gilles Veinstein in their Le Sérail ébranlé.
Essai sur les morts, dépositions et avènements des sultans ottomans, XlVe-XIXe siècle (Paris
2003), 11 : « L’ouverture des archives ottomanes a amené depuis un demi-siècle les spécia­
listes à accorder une importance de plus en plus exclusive aux sources d’archives. Sans sous-
estimer l’apport évidemment irremplaçable de celles-ci, nous voudrions contribuer pour notre
part, après d’autres, à redonner toute leur place aux chroniqueurs comme source de premier
ordre pour l’histoire de l’Empire ottoman. » Nicolas Vatin had also stressed the importance of
narrative sources for Ottoman history in N. Vatin, Etudes ottomans (XVe-XVIIIe siècle). Confé­
rence d ’ouverture, Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes, Section des sciences historiques et phi­
lologiques (10 novembre 2000) (Paris 2001), 58ff. See also C. Kirli, ‘From Economie History
to Cultural History in Ottoman Studies’, IJMES, 46 (2014), 376-378.
6 C. Kafadar, Between Two Worlds. The Construction o f the Ottoman State (Berkeley, Los
Angeles and London 1996), xiii.
 INTRODUCTION XVII

trend to “a widespread disillusionment with the economic determinist model o f histori­

cal explanation”, a new visibility for the role o f political power in history, and the ap­
parent shortcomings o f the once all-powerful quantification, as well as the “quite sud­
den growth o f interest in feelings, emotions, behaviour patterns, values, and states o f
mind”, he., what is known by the French term histoire des mentalités. Back in 1979,
Stone was stating that “yet historians... still seem a little embarrassed” when they turn
“back to the once despised narrative mode”, even though many now classic books in
this vein had already appeared.7 More than three decades later, one may say that ‘narra­
tive mode’ belongs steadily to the mainstream o f European historiography. Cultural his­
tory as well as political history - in a renewed form - both benefited greatly from and
contributed to this turn. Political history in particular, after being scorned as “histoire
événementielle” by the first Annales generations, regained its visibility as political an­
thropology, history o f structures o f power, legitimisation mechanisms, political move­
ments, and so forth.8
If political history began gradually to re-appear with a new sense o f interdependence
with social developments (especially Janissary rebellions, now studied in the light of
more general views on the transformation o f Ottoman politics in the longue durée),9 the
same - but perhaps to a lesser degree — happened with the history o f ideas. Again, Ot-
tomanists were late in following the trends o f Europeanist historiography, which from

7 L. Stone, ‘The Revival of Narrative: Reflections on a New Old History’, Past and Present, 85
(1979), 3-24. In his reply to Stone’s article, Eric Hobsbawm added as another factor in this his­
toriographical shift “the remarkable widening of the field of history” (E.J. Hobsbawm, ‘The
Revival of Narrative: Some Comments’, Past and Present, 86 (1980), 3-8). For a recapitula­
tion of the new trends in historiography, see the studies collected in P. Burke (ed.), New Per­
spectives in Historical Writing (Cambridge 2001 [2nd ed.]); G. G. Iggers, Historiography in
the Twentieth Century. From Scientific Objectivity to the Postmodern Challenge (Middletown
2005) and esp. 97ff. on Stone’s article.
8 Cf. Iggers, Historiography in the Twentieth Century, 137-139; J. Le Goff, ‘Is Politics still the
backbone of History?’, in F. Gilbert and S. Graubard (eds), Historical Studies Today (New
York 1972), 337-355 [reprinted in French as « L’histoire politique est-elle toujours l’épine dor­
sal de l’histoire? » in Le Goff, L ’imaginaire médiéval (Paris 1985), 333-349],
9 The first specimen would perhaps be R. Abou-El-Haj’s The 1703 Rebellion and the Structure
o f Ottoman Politics (Leiden 1984). Other examples include G. Piterberg, An Ottoman Trag­
edy: History and Historiography at Play (Berkeley and Los Angeles 2003) or the relevant part
in Baki Tezcan’s The Second Ottoman Empire. Political and Social Transformation in the Ear­
ly Modern World (Cambridge 2010). See also the special issue of the International Journal of
Turkish Studies, Vol. 8 (2002) and the studies collected in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), Political
Initiatives from the Bottom-Up in the Ottoman Empire (Halcyon Days VII: A Symposium held
in Rethymno, January 9-11, 2009) (Rethymno 2011), as well as a series of unpublished Ph.D.
theses: A. Stremmelaar, ‘Justice and Revenge in the Ottoman Rebellion of 1703’, unpublished
Ph.D. dissertation, Leiden University, 2007; A. Danaci Yildiz, ‘Vaka-yi Selimiyye or The Se-
limiyye Incident: A Study of May 1807 Rebellion’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Sabanci
University, 2008; S. Karahasanoglu, ‘A Tulip Age Legend: Consumer Behavior and Material
Culture in the Ottoman Empire (1718-1730)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Binghampton
University, 2009.
xv iii MARINOS SARIYANNIS

the 1960s onwards, with the ‘Cambridge school’ (Quentin Skinner, J.G.A. Pocock, Joh
Dunn, etc.), the French histoire des mentalités and Foucault’s critique, as well as the Ge
man conceptual history (Begriffsgeschichte), began to react to the traditional history c
ideas (as represented by, for example, Arthur Lovejoy, focusing on ‘great thinkers’ an
public debates) by emphasising the social and intellectual matrix from which individu:
thinkers emerged.10 As far as Ottoman studies are concerned, we should take note o f tih
new thrust and approach provided by Walter G. Andrews’ studies of lyric poetry;11 o f
very recent emphasis on Ottoman philosophy (especially its Arabic part);12 o f a series c
important ‘ intellectual biographies’ o f Ottoman scholars,13 and, last but not least, o f stuc
ies o f the circulation o f books and manuscripts and their intellectual context.14
Thus, both political history and the history o f ideas are now beginning to flourish an
are considered by Ottomanists an outstanding vantage point for observing social forces ;
work. In this context, it is perhaps striking that the history o f political ideas, which can b
described as a combination o f those two fields, was never out o f the focus o f social his
torians o f the Ottoman Empire (suffice it to remember the work by Çerif Mardin and N

10 See P. Burke, Varieties o f Cultural History (Ithaca 1997); V.E. Bonnell and L. Hunt (eds), Bt
yortd the Cultural Turn: New Directions in the Study o f Society and Culture (Berkeley 1999
D. McMahon and S. Moyn (eds), Rethinking Modern European Intellectual History for th
Twenty-First Century (Oxford 2014); cf. also K.W. Martin, ‘Middle East Historiography: Di
We Miss the Cultural Turn?’, History Compass, 12 (2014), 178-186.
11 W. Andrews, Poetry’s Voice, Society's Song: Ottoman Lyric Poetry (Seattle 1985); W. Andrew
and M. Kalpakli, The Age o f Beloveds: Love and the Beloved in Early Modern Ottoman an
European Culture and Society (Durham 2005). Ottoman poetry has been the object of impoi
tant studies in recent decades, e.g., by Edith Gülçin Ambros or Hatice Aynur. See E. G. Arr
bros, « Les recherches sur la littérature ottomane dans le monde occidental », in F. Emecei
I. Keskin and A. Ahmetbeyoglu (ed.), Osmanli ’mn izinde: Prof. Dr. Mehmet Ipsiirli Armagat
(Istanbul 2013), 1:119-139.
12 Kh. El-Rouayheb, ‘The Myth of the Triumph of Fanaticism in the Seventeenth-Century O
toman Empire’, Die Welt des Islams, 48 (2008), 196-201; idem, Islamic Intellectual Histc
ry in the Seventeenth Century: Scholarly Currents in the Ottoman Empire and the Maghre
(Cambridge 2015); L.W.C. van Lit, ‘An Ottoman Commentary Tradition on Ghazâlï’s Tahàfi
al-falâsifa. Preliminary Observations’, Oriens, 43 (2015), 368-413; E.L. Menchinger, ‘Fre
Will, Predestination, and the Fate of the Ottoman Empire’, Journal o f the History o f Ideas, 7
(2016), 445-466. Significantly, chapters concerning the Ottoman period have been included i
S. Schmidtke (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Theology (Oxford 2016).
13 C.H. Fleischer, Bureaucrat and Intellectual in the Ottoman Empire: The Historian MustaJ
Ali (1541-1600) (Princeton 1986); G. Hagen, Ein osmanischer Geograph bei der Arbeit. Eh
tehung und Gedankenwelt von Kâtib Celebis Gihânnümd (Berlin 2003); R. Dankoff, An Ottc
man Mentality. The World o f Evliya Çelebi, rev. edition (Leiden 2006); E.L. Menchinger, Tk
First o f the Modern Ottomans. The Intellectual History o f Ahmed Vâsif (Cambridge 2017).
14 N. Hanna, In Praise o f Books: A Cultural History o f Cairo’s Middle Class, Sixteenth i
Eighteenth Centuries (Syracuse 2003); N. Shafir, ‘The Road from Damascus: Circulation ar
the Redefinition of Islam in the Ottoman Empire, 1620-1720’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertatio:
University of California, 2016.
 INTRODUCTION XIX

yazi Berkes as early as the 1960s),15 nor o f the few early students of Ottoman intellectual
history.16 After all, political tracts were among the first Ottoman texts translated into Eu­
ropean languages.17 In the 1980s and 1990s, however, the rediscovery o f narrative sourc­
es and o f the importance o f political history also brought a wave o f pioneering works
studying political ideas. Studies o f particular works or genealogies o f specific ideas went
hand-in-hand with attempts at more general surveys o f Ottoman political thought, such
as Pal Fodor’s now classic article (supplemented by Virginia Aksan’s on the eighteenth
century).18 With the new millennium, the subject received a remarkable impetus; new ap­
proaches and methods o f analysis are constantly being applied in this field, as younger
and older scholars are turning their attention to this subject, arguably one o f the dominant
themes o f Ottoman studies nowadays.19 An emphasis on the legitimisation o f power has

15 Ç. Mardin, The Genesis o f Young Ottoman Thought: A Study in the Modernization o f Turkish
Political Ideas (Princeton 1962); N. Berkes, The Development o f Secularism in Turkey (Mon­
treal 1964).
16 M. T. Gôkbilgin, ‘XVII. Asirda Osmanli devletinde islâhat ihtiyaç ve temayülleri ve Kâtip Çele-
bi’, in Kâtip Çelebi. Hayati ve eserleri hakkinda incelemeler (Ankara 1991; 1st ed. 1957), 197-
218; B. Lewis, ‘Ottoman Observers of Ottoman Decline’, Islamic Studies, 1 (1962), 71-87.
17 W.F.A. Behmauer, ‘Hâgî Chalfa’s Dustûru’l-‘amal. Ein Beitrag zur osmanischen Finanzgesc-
hichte’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlândischen Gesellschaft, 11 (1857), 111-132; idem,
‘Kogabeg’s Abhandlung iiber den Verfall des osmanischen Staatsgebâudes seit Sultan Sule­
iman dem Grossen’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlândischen Gesellschaft, 15 (1861),
272-332; idem, ‘Das Nasîhatnâme. Dritter Beitrag zur osmanischen Finanzgeschichte’, Ze­
itschrift der Deutschen Morgenlândischen Gesellschaft, 18 (1864), 699-740; R. Tschudi (ed.),
Das Asafname des Liitfi Pascha, nach den Handschriften zu Wien, Dresden und Konstantino-
pel (Berlin 1910); I. von Karâcson and L. von Thallâczy, ‘Eine Staatsschrift des bosnischen
Mohammedaners Molla Hassan Elkjâfi ‘fiber die Art und Weise des Regierens”, Archiv fur
slavischephilologie, 32 (1911), 139-158. Cf. D.A. Howard, ‘Genre and Myth in the Ottoman
Advice for Kings Literature’, in V. Aksan and D. Goffman (eds), The Early Modern Ottomans:
Remapping the Empire (Cambridge 2007), 137-166 at 142-143.
18 R. Murphey, ‘The Veliyyuddin Telhis: Notes on the Sources and Interrelations between Koçi
Bey and Contemporary Writers of Advice to Kings’, Belleten, 43 (1979), 547-571; H. G. Ma-
jer, ‘Die Kritik aus den Ulema in den osmanischen politischen Traktaten des 16-18 Jahrhun-
derts’, in O. Okyar - H. Inalcik (eds), Social and Economic History o f Turkey (1071-1920)
(Ankara 1980), 147-155; P. Fodor, ‘State and Society, Crisis and Reform, in 15th-17th Centu­
ry Ottoman Mirror for Princes’, ActOrHung, 40 (1986), 217-240; A.Y. Ocak, ‘Osmanli siyasi
düçüncesi’, in E. ihsanoglu (ed.), Osmanli devleti ve medeniyeti tarihi, Vol. 2 (Istanbul 1988),
164-174; C.H.Fleischer, ‘From Çeyhzade Korkud to Mustafa ÂH: Cultural Origins of the Ot­
toman Nasihatname’, in H.W. Lowry and R.S. Hattox (eds), Illrd Congress on the Social and
Economic History o f Turkey. Princeton University, 24-26,h August 1983 (Istanbul, Washing­
ton and Paris 1990), 67-77; A. C. Schaendlinger, ‘Reformtraktate und -vorschlâge im Osma­
nischen Reich im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert’, in Ch. Franger and K. Schwarz (eds), Festgabe an
Josef Matuz. Osmanistik - Turkologie - Diplomatik (Berlin 1992), 239-253; V. Aksan, ‘Otto­
man Political Writing, 1768-1808’, IJMES, 25 (1993), 53-69.
19 C. Kafadar, ‘Osmanli siyasal düçüncesinin kaynaklan fizerine gozlemler’, in M.Ô. Alkan (ed.),
Modern Tiirkiye’de siyasi düfünce, Vol. 1, Cumhuriyet’e devreden düyünce mirasi: Tanzimat
ve Meçrutiyet’in birikimi (Istanbul 2001), 24-28; B. A. Ergene, ‘On Ottoman Justice: Interp­
XX MARINOS SARIYANNIS

to some extent prepared for this trend.20 To indicate the present blossoming o f the field
suffice it to note that only in the last five years four lengthy monographs appeared on thi
history o f Ottoman political thought in its more or less general aspects.21
Still, the features o f a ‘late starter’ and the heavy dependency on earlier questions o
socio-economic history are apparent in the disproportionate interest late sixteenth an<
early seventeenth-century authors have attracted in comparison to earlier or later ones
The real motive behind the rediscovery o f such authors as Mustafa Ali, Aziz Efendi, o
Koçi Bey was their crucial role in the creation (and the recent demolition) o f the ‘de
cline’ paradigm, which, as one may say, had been the central question in Ottoman stud
ies throughout the last decade o f the twentieth century.22 Thus, issues such the role o f th<
Persian tradition o f political philosophy, the ‘fundamentalist’ or, more correctly, ‘Sunna
minded’ trends of the seventeenth century, or the re-evaluation o f innovation and changi
from the late seventeenth century onwards have remained relatively unstudied, wherea:
even those ‘declinist’ authors mentioned above did not get their proper place in this his
tory, as the one side o f a debate which was much more than one-sided. Moreover, even a:
lesser works and authors are beginning to be studied and edited, the discussion remain:
centred on the major figures, who thus seem isolated from the ideological conflicts the}
were participating in and from the tradition they were following or responding to. Thi:
lack o f intellectual context is largely due to the splendour o f pre-Ottoman Islamic po
litical thought and the consequent view o f the post-medieval period as one o f intellec

retations in Conflict (1600-1800)’, Islamic Law and Society, 8 (2001), 52-87; C. Yilmaz, ‘Os
manli siyaset düçüncesi kaynaklan ile ilgili yeni bir kavramsallaçtirma: Islahatnâmeler’, Tür
kiye Araçtirmalari Literatür Dergisi, 1 (2003), 299-338; H. Yilmaz, ‘Osmanh tarihçiligindi
Tanzimat oncesi siyaset düçüncesine yaklaçimlar’, Türkiye Araçtirmalari Literatür Dergisi, \
(2003), 231 -298; D. A. Howard, ‘From Manual to Literature: Two Texts on the Ottoman Tima
System’, ActOrHung, 61 (2008), 87-99; L.T. Darling, ‘Political Change and Political Discour
se in the Early Modem Mediterranean World’, Journal o f Interdisciplinary History, 38 (2008)
505-531; H.L. Ferguson, ‘Genres of Power: Constructing a Discourse of Decline in Ottomar
Nasihatname’, OA, 35 (2010), 81-116.
20 See H.T. Karateke and M. Reinkowski (eds), Legitimizing the Order. The Ottoman Rhetoric o
State Power (Leiden and Boston 2005).
21 L.T. Darling, A History o f Social Justice and Political Power in the Middle East: The Circh
o f Justice from Mesopotamia to Globalization (New York 2013); H. Yilmaz, Caliphate Rede
fined: The Mystical Turn in Ottoman Political Thought (Princeton 2018); H.L. Ferguson, Thi
Proper Order o f Things: Language, Power, and Law in Ottoman Administrative Discourse;
(Stanford 2018); M. Sariyannis, A History o f Ottoman Political Thought Up to the Early Nine
teenth Century (Leiden 2018).
22 This debate may be said to have been inaugurated with Abou-El-Haj’s highly influential For
motion o f the Modern State. The Ottoman Empire, Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries (Nev
York 1991), together with a series of interventions by Suraiya Faroqhi; see e.g. S. Faroqhi
‘Part II: Crisis and Change, 1590-1699’, in H. inalcik with D. Quataert (eds), An Economi
and Social History o f the Ottoman Empire, 1300-1914 (Cambridge 1994), 411-636. For vari
ous assessments of the discussion see D. Quataert, ‘Ottoman History Writing and Changing At
titudes Towards the Notion of ‘Decline” , History Compass, 1 (2003), 1-10; Sajdi, ‘Decline, It
Discontents’.
 INTRODUCTION XXI

tuai decline for Islamic culture. On the one hand, students o f Islamic political thought
more often than not see Ottoman authors as mere imitators, who either engaged in ster­
ile reproduction o f Avicenna’s, al-Farabi’s, or Nasir al-Din Tusi’s ideas, or were restrict­
ed to very concrete advice on specific problems o f their own state without implying any
broader view o f political society.23 On the other hand, Ottomanists usually fail to take
into account the pre-Ottoman tradition (despite some efforts, such as by Halil inalcik on
Kinalizade Ali Çelebi),24 which leads either to texts being glorified as innovative when
they are merely adaptations o f earlier models, or to innovative breakthroughs to the older
tradition, which scholars cannot locate since they ignore the latter.25

* * *

This volume has the modest ambition o f contributing to this renewal of interest in Otto­
man political ideas and their function in practice. It mostly reproduces the papers read
in the Ninth Halcyon Days international symposium o f the Programme o f Ottoman His­
tory o f the Institute for Mediterranean Studies/FORTH, which was held in Rethymno on
9-11 January 2015.26 Ibrahim Metin Kunt was invited to be the symposiarch; when he
had to decline for health reasons, Linda T. Darling kindly agreed to take his place. Both
contributed the introductory texts constituting Part I o f the book, which the present short
introduction seeks only to supplement with a framework depicting the intellectual gene­
alogy o f the history o f Ottoman political thought. Metin Kunt, on his part, explores the
cosmological origins o f Islamic views o f political society, namely the theory o f the four
elements and the way it was applied in fields as different as cosmology, astrology, medi­
cine, psychology, the various arts, as well as political theory. As Kunt shows, the concept
o f four elements or pillars o f society which have to be kept in equilibrium was a con­
stant feature o f Ottoman political theories, and one that was combined later on with Ibn
Khaldun’s concept o f historical laws to produce a cyclical view o f history. Yet, as he cau­
tiously points out, there were other dominant distinctions in Ottoman worldviews, such

23 See, e.g., E.I.J. Rosenthal, Political Thought in Medieval Islam. An Introductory Outline (Cam­
bridge 1958), 224-233; A. Black, The History o f Islamic Political Thought. From the Prophet
to the Present (Edinburgh 2011 [2nd ed.]), 216-222, 259-280 (still, Black is to be credited for
having included issues such as the Sharia and Kanun conflict or the ‘Sunna-minded’ trend into
the field of study).
24 See, e.g., H. inalcik, ‘Capital Formation in the Ottoman Empire’, The Journal o f Economic
History, 19 (1969), 97-140 at 98-99; idem, ‘The Ottoman State: Economy and Society, 1300-
1600’, in H. Inalcik with D. Quataert (eds), An Economic and Social History o f the Ottoman
Empire, 44.
25 On various problems in the study of Ottoman political thought see the excellent essay by Yil-
maz, ‘Osmanh tarihçiliginde Tanzimat ôncesi siyaset düçüncesine yakiaçimlar’. I have also
tackled these issues more extensively than I do here in Sariyannis, A History o f Ottoman Po­
litical Thought, 1-14.
26 The Symposium also included papers by Sia Anagnostopoulou, Vasileios Syros, Ekin Tuçalp
Atiyas, and Hilseyin Yilmaz, who did not eventually submit them for publication. On the other
hand, Heather L. Ferguson, Katharina Ivanyi, and Eunjeong Yi did not participate in the Sym­
posium but were specially invited to contribute to the volume.
XXII MARINOS SARIYANNIS

as between reaya and askerî or between Muslims and infidels, which make the study of
political ideas more complex and interdependent with historical realities.
Linda Darling, in her turn, focuses on the study o f Ottoman political thought and its
pitfalls. After remarking that the field has to extend its subject beyond political literature
per se, she gives a summary outline o f trends in Ottoman political ideas, their genealo­
gies and developments, stressing the socio-political context which made authors support
‘declinist’ or ‘reformist’ theories. Furthermore, she puts a question which is at the very
centre o f this volume, namely how we can combine the study o f political theory with po­
litical practice, in other words, how to put questions in terms o f social and political histo­
ry - and conversely, how to interpret socio-political behaviour in Ottoman sources in the
light o f the use o f political arguments and mentalities. Still, as she carefully notes, one
has always to take into account the very strong tradition within which Ottoman authors
and statesmen were writing and acting.
Political ideas are, o f course, founded on basic concepts, often peculiar to a specific
culture which may or may not be confined to the territorial or even temporal borders o f a
state. These concepts, as shown by several studies, are not static: they change as society
changes, in an interaction with political practice.27 Papers in Part II o f this volume ex­
amine such concepts, emphasising their semantic shifts according to the political context
and the historical circumstances. Heather L. Ferguson takes up the relation (and confu­
sion) between socio-political realities and narratives about them, focusing on the concept
o f state. She points out that we should study such subjects having always in mind the his­
torical dimension o f the Ottoman formation, both in time and in its relationship within
the broader Eurasian context. After drawing a chart enumerating and interpreting theo­
ries o f modem historiography (Europeanist and Ottomanist) on state formation and de­
velopment, Ferguson explores a series o f Ottoman dynastic histories in order to seek the
various forms o f exceptionalism and universalism prevailing in different stages o f Otto­
man culture.
In his own contribution, Güneç Içiksel moves into another aspect o f the Ottoman
world image which is not unrelated to the exceptionalist and universalist claims we have
already mentioned: namely, the representation o f what we now call the Ottoman realm as
constructed by the Sultan’s chancellery. Taking as a starting-point the intitulatio o f inter­
national treaties and diplomatic correspondence o f the sixteenth century, Içiksel shows
that, far from being just a spatial description, this accumulation o f titles and places has
deep political connotations, since it implies a potential universal dominion, but also that
it is liable to changes serving different necessities, which stem either from diplomatic de­
velopments or specific needs o f the imperial propaganda.

27 See, e.g., G. Hagen, ‘Legitimacy and World Order’, in Karateke and Reinkowski (eds), Legiti­
mizing the Order, 55-83; Ergene, ‘On Ottoman Justice’; M. Sariyannis, ‘The Princely Virtues
as Presented in Ottoman Political and Moral Literature’, Turcica, 43 (2011), 121-144; idem,
‘Ruler and State, State and Society in Ottoman Political Thought’, THR, 4 (2013), 83-117;
idem, ‘Ottoman Ideas on Monarchy Before the Tanzimat Reforms: Toward a Conceptual His­
tory of Ottoman Political Notions’, Turcica, 47 (2016), 33-72.
 INTRODUCTION xx iii

The next two papers deal more particularly with specific terms and the various mean­
ings they acquired in time. Elias Kolovos examines the famous istimalet, considered (in
the meaning o f ‘winning over a population through concessions’) as a major tool o f Ot­
toman diplomacy and conquest as early as the beginnings o f the Ottoman state. By con­
ducting a meticulous study o f primary sources mentioning this term, Kolovos shows that,
contrary to what one would perhaps expect judging from the rich relevant historiography,
istimalet is rarely mentioned in early chronicles, whereas it has a frequent presence in lat­
er sources, where it is used in a wider sense as a policy against Ottoman officials or sol­
diers as well, far from being applied only to conquered populations. Thus, what was for
half a century conceived o f as a special policy tool facilitating conquest o f infidel popu­
lations proves to be a more conceptualised form o f what Ottoman historians refer to as
hiisn-i tedbir, soft measures aimed at winning over an opponent or a potential enemy.
Antonis Hadjikyriacou’s paper deals with another term which commonly forms a
subject o f heated debate - millet. The shifting meanings o f this term have attracted the
attention o f a good many scholars, all the more since (having eventually taken on the
meaning o f ‘nation’) it is closely connected with the transformation o f ethnic identities
into national communities during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Hadjikyriacou
proposes to explore the issue from the other end, that is, taking ethno-religious commu­
nities and their organisation as a starting-point. Focusing on the case o f Cyprus, and ben­
efiting from discussions o f other ambiguous terms as well (notably vekil), he reaches the
conclusion that institutional identity (and leadership) remained until late a flexible no­
tion, which was not consistently dependent on either religious or ethnic identities.
Finally, Marc Aymes moves into the late Ottoman Empire and the very notion o f poli­
tics, which he proposes to study through an examination of forgery and the laws concern­
ing it. After an overview o f the two terms relevant to politics, polîtika which came to mean
things pertaining to governmental affairs (and as such, something which was not to be dis­
cussed freely in public), and siyaset meaning eventually what pertains to the general pub­
lic, Aymes examines the act o f faking state documents and laws prohibiting forgery or the
circulation o f fake news. In this perhaps oblique way, he highlights the limits between the
public and the private sphere and explores the ways late Ottoman government tried to de­
lineate the extent of the subjects’ scope for potential interference in state affairs.
T he papers presented so far show the flexible and evolving character o f Ottoman con­
cepts, especially those present in Ottoman diplomatic or administrative practice and not
political theory p er se. Still, if confined to ideas, a student o f Ottoman political thought
may get the impression o f repetitive loci, commonplaces and tropes without any origi­
nality or development. Yet, if we focus in the use o f arguments, we will see that differ­
ent socio-political actors use a spectrum o f ideas and arguments as an inventory o f weap­
ons from which they select those best fitted to their own age in order to defend and pro­
mote different political demands. Aspects o f this procedure are illuminated in Part III of
the book, devoted to authors o f political tracts and the ideas they use: how they benefit
from earlier tradition, how they adapt to current situations, how they change these ideas
in order to render best service to their respective agendas. In her contribution, Linda T.
Darling takes as a starting-point one o f the most common and well-known topoi o f po­
XXIV MARJNOS SARIYANNIS

litical literature, that o f the critique o f the Janissaries and more particularly o f the intru­
sion o f non-devçirme recruits to their ranks. Juxtaposing these topoi o f advice texts (na-
sihatnames) with material from administrative documents and registers o f the late six­
teenth and early seventeenth century, she finds that “strangers” in the corps were not dif­
ferentiated at all in state paperwork, and, perhaps more importantly, that authors originat­
ing from devfirm e recruitment were much more adamant in their opposition to outsiders,
showing an internal factionalism expressed in political literature. As Darling remarks, it
is in government orders and actions that we ought to seek true (or, at least, dominant) Ot­
toman political thought.
The next three papers in this part deal with various aspects o f what has been named
“Sunna-minded” or, more particularly, “Kadizadeli” thought: a trend which spoke for a
re-assessment o f the Sunna and which played a major role in political discussion from
the early seventeenth century until the last decade o f the same century, if not later. It is a
commonplace that the ideological predecessor o f this trend was Birgivî Mehmed Efendi,
a major opponent o f Ebussuud back in the mid sixteenth century; yet scholarship debat­
ing the landholding experimentation in the late seventeenth century has been puzzled by
the absence o f the issue in Kadizadeli texts.28 Katharina Ivanyi shows that Birgivî, apart
from his insistent opposition to against cash-va/c/s and his emphasis on strict adherence to
the Sharia, had also dealt with this issue; he had denounced the legal stratagem used to le­
gitimise land tax from public land (mîrî) and was very sceptical about state ownership of
the land and the tapu system. Thus, Ivanyi’s study makes Gilles Veinstein’s argument on
the role o f Kadizadeli thought in the Kôprülü reform more convincing, as the main coun­
ter-argument was the absence o f ‘fundamentalist’ preoccupation with land and tax issues.
After Birgivî, ‘Sunna-minded’ thought re-emerged in the early seventeenth century,
yet it was by no means absent in the time-span between the two periods. In her paper, De­
rm Terzioglu focuses on ibrahim-i Kinmî, a Halveti sheikh corresponding with Murad III.
Terzioglu examines the corpus o f K inm î’s letters (heretofore attributed to Aziz Mahmud
Hüdayî), which contain a variety o f political advice; she shows the complex interplay o f
the author with the palace and harem politics, and highlights his possible relations with dif­
ferent factions as regards external policies. Through this careful analysis, Terzioglu ques­
tions both the presence o f marked ‘absolutist’ and ‘constitutionalist’ factions at the court29
and the understanding o f ‘confessionalisation’ as a clear-cut, top-down procedure.30

28 M. Greene, ‘An Islamic Experiment? Ottoman Land Policy on Crete’, Mediterranean Histori­
cal Review, 11 (1996), 60-78; G. Veinstein, ‘Le législateur ottoman face à l’insularité: L’en­
seignement des Kânûnnâme’, in N. Vatin and G. Veinstein (eds), Insularités ottomanes (Paris
2004), 101-106; E. Kenneli, ‘Caught in Between Faith and Cash: The Ottoman Land System
of Crete, 1645-1670’, in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), The Eastern Mediterranean Under Ottoman
Rule, Crete, 1645-1840: Halcyon Days in Crete VI: a Symposium Held in Rethymno, 13-15
January 2006 (Rethymno 2008), 17-48.
29 On this concept see B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire: Political and Social Transforma­
tion in the Early Modern World (Cambridge 2010); H. Yilmaz, ‘Containing Sultanic Authority:
Constitutionalism in the Ottoman Empire Before Modernity’, OA, 45 (2015), 231-264.
30 On ‘confessionalisation’, a term introduced into Ottoman studies by Tijana Krstic, see D.
 INTRODUCTION XXV

Baki Tezcan, in his turn, focuses on Kadizade Mehmed himself, the eponymous he­
ro o f the seventeenth-century movement. Like Terzioglu, he also takes as a point o f de­
parture a collection o f letters, written by the famous preacher in his youth. Having re­
constructed his early life (and also clarifying the authorship o f works attributed to a cer­
tain Kadizade Mehmed ilm î as probably belonging to his more famous namesake), Tez­
can studies the list o f books Kadizade records as having deeply influenced his thought,
and finds that, contrary to what we could expect, he maintained strong Sufi allegiances
and was even sympathetic and respectful towards Ibn Arabi, a major target of Kadizadeli
preachers later in the century. Tezcan proceeds to a re-assessment o f the movement, in­
terpreting the presence or absence o f certain issues in public debates in the light of their
own Sufi and palace connections.
Another author whose influence was more and more pronounced in Ottoman political
thought from the mid seventeenth century onwards was Ibn Khaldun, the Tunisian schol­
ar who arguably can be credited with the invention o f sociology. In my own article, I try
to explore the reception o f Khaldunist ideas in Ottoman political literature. This influ­
ence began earlier than thought, as I argue that it can be detected in parts o f Kinalizade
Ali Çelebi’s mid sixteenth century ethical treatise, but it became really important after
Kâtip Çelebi and then M ustafa Naima introduced his theory o f stages of rise and decline,
through which every dynasty or state must pass. I try to show that, later on, from the mid
eighteenth century, it was another part o f Ibn Khaldun’s perception o f history that be­
came more influential, namely the conflict between nomadic and settled life and the as­
sociation o f the former with war and victory.
This third part ends with Gottfried Hagen’s contribution, which focuses on a specif­
ic episode o f Islamic sacred history, the Treaty o f al-Hudaybiyya, and its uses in order to
legitimise temporary peace with the infidels. Studying a series o f prophetic biographies
and chronicles, Hagen explores various instances o f the Prophet being used as a ‘role
model’ for Ottoman policy-making. M aking use o f Thomas Bauer’s suggestion o f ambi­
guity as a constant feature o f pre-modem Islam, he shows that the Prophet’s vita could be
interpreted as an urging for w ar against the infidels, and Naim a’s famous treatment o f al-
Hudaybiyya as an argument for making peace. An argument coming from sacred history,
Hagen suggest, has not necessarily the same use when taken up by different authors with
different aims and in a different political situation.
The reader may have noticed that up to this point neither the present introduction
nor the papers presented have touched upon authors writing outside the imperial capital
(Kinmî may be considered an exception, but he was living in Istanbul for a long time and
his correspondence is very closely tied to palace politics) or belonging to the non-Mus­
lim part o f the imperial subjects.31 Indeed, scholars defining themselves as ‘Ottomanists’

Terzioglu, ‘How to Conceptualize Ottoman Sunnitization: A Historiographical Discussion’,

Turcica, 44 (2012-13), 301-38.
31 On the Greek (and Romanian) Phanariot political (often historical-cMiw-political or moral-cwm-
political) literature, see A. Duju, Les livres de sagesse dans la culture roumaine. Introduction à
l'histoire des mentalités sud-est européennes (Bucharest 1971 ); D. Apostolopoulos, ‘Quelques
XXVI MARINOS SARIYANNIS

more often than not tend to ignore the fact that Armenian, Greek, or Jewish populations
also formed an integral part o f not only the imperial subjects, but also o f Ottoman culture.
And it may be one o f the major challenges for future Ottomanist studies to incorporate
these populations into their vision (as the issue o f the present day is the incorporation of
Arab-speaking literary and scientific production into Ottoman intellectual history). True,
as far as politics (in theory more than in practice, o f course) is concerned, one may sug­
gest that Ottoman political thought is closely connected to the central government, which
was overwhelmingly Turkish-speaking and Muslim; still, every study o f Ottoman poli­
tics is surely incomplete if it confines itself to these circles. Part IV o f the volume is de­
voted to such ‘oblique views’ o f the Ottoman state, coming from its periphery, be it eth­
no-religious or geographical. Konstantinos M oustakas’ contribution takes up the view­
point o f the upper strata o f the Greek Orthodox population, and more particularly o f the
Patriarchate o f Constantinople, in order to examine their views o f Ottoman rule during
its early centuries. Analysing some texts and chronicles authored by high circles o f the
Patriarchate (including the first Patriarch, Gennadios Scholarios), Moustakas indicates
the ways in which these texts promoted the Sultan’s person as a legitimate ruler, charac­
terised by justice and (at least potential) impartiality, while sustaining a distinct identi­
ty o f the Orthodox flock as against the Ottoman Muslim establishment and population.
Through such techniques, one could suggest, the Patriarchate sought to establish its own
position both against co-religionists and Muslim antagonists.
M oving away from the Ottoman borders, Denise Klein examines political theory and
practice in a neighbouring and closely related state, one whose dynasty was often seen
as the only legitimate alternative to the House o f Osman,32 namely the Crimean Tatar
Khanate. Klein studies a series o f historiographical works produced in the Khanate, in
order to explore the political ideology emanating from them, in many ways reminiscent
o f (and influenced by) its Ottoman counterpart - and in other ways distinctly different (as
in the emphasis on the steppe tradition). Furthermore, Klein examines how these authors
bypass or justify Ottoman suzerainty, and analyses descriptions o f specific episodes of
Crimean history to highlight the interplay between historiography and factionalist poli­
tics at the Khan’s court.
Ariel Salzmann moves even further, at the same time staying at the very centre o f
the Ottoman Empire: taking as her point o f departure an Ottoman report on Toussaint
Louverture’s Haitian revolt, she proposes to study a global dimension o f Ottoman polit­
ical culture. Salzmann explores the role o f the Caribbean revolutions in the geopolitical
considerations early nineteenth century Ottoman administrators had concerning their Eu-

hypothèses pour l’étude des origines de la pensée politique grecque post-byzantine (1453-
1484). Le processus de transformation du concept de «Bien Commun» en rapport avec l’idéo­
logie née après la prise de Constantinople’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Sorbonne Univer­
sity, 1976; Ç. Costache, ‘Loyalty and Political Legitimacy in the Phanariots’ Historical Writing
in the Eighteenth Century’, SF 69/70 (2010/2011), 25-50; H.R. Shapiro, ‘Legitimizing the Ot­
toman Sultanate in Early Modem Greek’, JTS, 42 (2014), 285-316.
32 F. Emecen, ‘Osmanlx hanedanma alternatif arayiçlar üzerine bazi ômekler ve mülahazalar’, Is­
lam Araçtirmalari Dergisi 6 (2001), 63-76.
 INTRODUCTION XXVII

ropean alliances, showing that their view o f the world might be broader than we tend to
think. She also highlights similarities and analogies between the two hemispheres, call­
ing for a contextualisation o f Ottoman realities within the entangled histories o f a glob­
al dimension.
The papers presented so far study more or less varied aspects of political theory,
whatever meaning we choose to give the term (political ideas might be a more appropri­
ate term, since not all Ottoman works imply a coherent set o f ideas with a descriptive and
interpretative function for society). However, political practice is not only supplementary
to theory and vice versa; in fact, in order to fully grasp political imaginary and argumen­
tation we have to include political behaviour in it. Rituals, symbols, stories, and ‘scripts’,
or mental blueprints shaping social behaviour,33 should be seen as parts o f a ‘political
language’ or ‘political discourse’; and such discourses may be co-existing and in conflict
with other discourses at a given moment.34 Moreover, such conflicting discourses may
draw ideas, arguments, and non-textual elements from a common inventory, ascribing
different contents and using them for different aims. Furthermore, we should not think of
political thought as a privilege o f literate, educated scholars or informed Sufis. The very
existence o f ‘bottom-up’ political action, culminating in military revolts, is an eloquent
witness to the diffusion o f political ideas, i.e., visions for the Ottoman polity, to broader
strata o f the society.35 As a concrete example, one could cite the argument condemning
reforms as innovations (bid'at) and its appropriation by the Janissaries, against whom it
was first used - a process that must have begun by the end o f the seventeenth century and
which is fully attested one century later.36
Such issues, connecting theory and practice, are studied in Part V, the last o f this vol­
ume. In his contribution, Nicolas Vatin examines the narrative o f the Barbaras brothers’
rise to power in Algiers, as contained in a folk text intended as political propaganda. Va­
tin focuses in the period before Hayreddin Barbarossa joined the Ottoman forces, and
shows the various levels on which one can read this narrative, which seeks to conceal Al­
giers’ independent actions under an ex p o st facto superimposed imperial legitimacy. As

33 Such an array of sources (in a non-political context) is used by D. Ze’evi, Producing Desire.
Changing Sexual Discourse in the Ottoman Middle East, 1500-1900 (Berkeley, Los Ange­
les and London 2006). On the ‘scripts’ concept, Ze’evi quotes J. Gagnon, Human Sexualities
(Glenview 1977), 6; J. Weeks, Sexuality (London 1986), 57-58.
34 The concept of ‘political language/discourse’ is that of J.G.A. Pocock: J.G.A. Pocock, ‘The
Concept of a Language and The Métier d ’historien: Some Considerations on Practice’, in A.
Pagden (ed.), The Languages o f Political Theory in Early-Modern Europe (Cambridge 1987),
21-25; idem, ‘Concepts and Discourses: A Difference in Culture? Comment on a Paper by Mel­
vin Richter’, in H. Lehmann and M. Richter (eds), The Meaning o f Historical Terms and Con­
cepts. New Studies on Begriffsgeschichte (Washington 1996), 47-58. Cf. also Kafadar, ‘Os-
manli siyasal düçüncesinin kaynaklan’, 27-28.
35 On the broad array of such initiatives see E. Gara, M.E.Kabadayi, C. Neumann (eds), Popular
Protest and Political Participation in the Ottoman Empire: Studies in Honor o f Suraiya Fa-
roqhi (Istanbul 2011); Anastasopoulos (ed.), Political Initiatives from the Bottom-Up.
36 See Sariyannis, A History o f Ottoman Political Thought, 422-24 and 444-46.
x x v iii MARINOS SARIYANNIS

highlighted by this analysis, the virtues and charisma legitimising Hayreddin’s rule are
very similar to those used by the Ottoman Sultans in their own legitimising discourse:
victorious battles, piety, justice, and so forth. In addition, Vatin delves into the adminis­
tration o f pre-Ottoman Algiers by Hayreddin and illustrates the fine interplay o f individ­
ual virtues and geopolitical identities which eventually led to both the establishment of
the Ottomans in the Maghrib and the subsequent glorious career o f Hayreddin as an Ot­
toman admiral.
Eunjeong Yi brings us to one o f the instances where we can see in a certain detail
‘bottom-up’ action, and a non-military one to boot: the uprising o f large segments o f the
inhabitants o f Istanbul against the military regime which had followed Mehmed IV’s de­
position in 1688. Yi focuses on the biography o f Seyyid Osman Atpazan, a prominent
Sufi figure who played a major role in this uprising. She thus highlights the role played
by such figures as a sort o f natural leadership for the urban crowd; furthermore, the viv­
id description o f the events in A tpazan’s vita brings to the forefront the discourse and
political aims of this crowd, which seldom find their way into more official chronicles.
The rest o f the papers deal with the army, the constant protagonist both o f political
practice (as an actor, and a rebellious one to boot) and theory (as the usual object o f criti­
cism and potential reform). Virginia Aksan addresses a subject which was underlying all
reformist efforts o f the eighteenth and early nineteenth century: the apparent inadequacy
o f the existing army to wage a successful war and, more specifically, the difficulties of
mobilising military manpower at this period. She discusses the various forms this mobil­
isation took since the beginning o f the Ottoman state, always examining them in the con­
text o f the political structure o f the Empire. Aksan shows the close intermingling o f mil­
itary affairs and warfare with the development o f the central state and with its changing
relations with the periphery, not only in actual networks o f power and interdependence
but also in ideological representations.
The last two contributions in the volume focus on the same, late period o f the pre-
Tanzimat era and on the military corps which played the most prominent role in Otto­
man politics: the Janissaries. Earlier on, in her own paper, Linda Darling had shown that
the transformation o f the corps in the late sixteenth century had come in a swifter way
than we thought; Yiannis Spyropoulos, in his turn, studies the final stage o f this transfor­
mation into a military-c«OT-social-cww-economic-c«m-political organisation. Taking the
province o f Crete as a case study, he shows through a detailed study o f judicial archives
and registers that this process was equally, if not more, visible on the periphery as in Is­
tanbul, both in terms o f political participation and o f economic and social role. Further­
more, Spyropoulos suggests that the networks connecting Janissary units o f the various
port-cities o f the Eastern Mediterranean constituted a means for conducting trade and
credit activities. His image o f the Janissaries as an overwhelmingly provincial institution
by the early nineteenth century calls also for a new interpretation o f provincial politics
and a re-assessment o f socio-cultural exchanges within the Empire.
Finally, H. §ükrü Ilicak’s paper deals with the abolition o f the Janissary corps, the (in)
famous ‘Auspicious Event’ o f 1826. The angle from which he proposes to view this land­
mark o f Ottoman history is rather unusual, as he sees it as an implication, or at any rate as
 INTRODUCTION XXIX

partially a result, o f the Greek War o f Independence, which had erupted in 1821. Taking
as his main source British Ambassador Lord Strangford’s correspondence, Ilicak shows
that the events in Istanbul following the beginning o f the war were at the same time the
climax o f Janissary power and its destruction: whereas the Janissary leaders took extreme
measures in the capital against those viewed as Greek conspirators, the eventual failure
of all actions against the insurgency (including Janissary regiments sent to suppress it)
undermined the status and the prestige o f the corps and prepared the ground for a radical
reconfiguration o f the Ottoman political and military structure.
XXVÜi MARINOS SARIYANNIS

highlighted by this analysis, the virtues and charisma legitimising Hayreddin’s rule are
very similar to those used by the Ottoman Sultans in their own legitimising discourse:
victorious battles, piety, justice, and so forth. In addition, Vatin delves into the adminis­
tration o f pre-Ottoman Algiers by Hayreddin and illustrates the fine interplay o f individ­
ual virtues and geopolitical identities which eventually led to both the establishment of
the Ottomans in the Maghrib and the subsequent glorious career o f Hayreddin as an Ot­
toman admiral.
Eunjeong Yi brings us to one o f the instances where we can see in a certain detail
‘bottom-up’ action, and a non-military one to boot: the uprising o f large segments o f the
inhabitants o f Istanbul against the military regime which had followed Mehmed IV’s de­
position in 1688. Yi focuses on the biography o f Seyyid Osman Atpazan, a prominent
Sufi figure who played a major role in this uprising. She thus highlights the role played
by such figures as a sort o f natural leadership for the urban crowd; furthermore, the viv­
id description o f the events in Atpazari’s vita brings to the forefront the discourse and
political aims o f this crowd, which seldom find their way into more official chronicles.
The rest o f the papers deal with the army, the constant protagonist both o f political
practice (as an actor, and a rebellious one to boot) and theory (as the usual object o f criti­
cism and potential reform). Virginia Aksan addresses a subject which was underlying all
reformist efforts o f the eighteenth and early nineteenth century: the apparent inadequacy
o f the existing army to wage a successful war and, more specifically, the difficulties of
mobilising military manpower at this period. She discusses the various forms this mobil­
isation took since the beginning o f the Ottoman state, always examining them in the con­
text o f the political structure o f the Empire. Aksan shows the close intermingling o f mil­
itary affairs and warfare with the development o f the central state and with its changing
relations with the periphery, not only in actual networks o f power and interdependence
but also in ideological representations.
The last two contributions in the volume focus on the same, late period o f the pre-
Tanzimat era and on the military corps which played the most prominent role in Otto­
man politics: the Janissaries. Earlier on, in her own paper, Linda Darling had shown that
the transformation o f the corps in the late sixteenth century had come in a swifter way
than we thought; Yiannis Spyropoulos, in his turn, studies the final stage o f this transfor­
mation into a military-cMAw-social-cww-economic-cM/M-polideal organisation. Taking the
province o f Crete as a case study, he shows through a detailed study o f judicial archives
and registers that this process was equally, if not more, visible on the periphery as in Is­
tanbul, both in terms o f political participation and o f economic and social role. Further­
more, Spyropoulos suggests that the networks connecting Janissary units o f the various
port-cities o f the Eastern Mediterranean constituted a means for conducting trade and
credit activities. His image o f the Janissaries as an overwhelmingly provincial institution
by the early nineteenth century calls also for a new interpretation o f provincial politics
and a re-assessment o f socio-cultural exchanges within the Empire.
Finally, H. §ükrü Ilicak’s paper deals with the abolition o f the Janissary corps, the (in)
famous ‘Auspicious Event’ o f 1826. The angle from which he proposes to view this land­
mark o f Ottoman history is rather unusual, as he sees it as an implication, or at any rate as
 INTRODUCTION XXIX

partially a result, o f the Greek War o f Independence, which had erupted in 1821. Taking
as his main source British Ambassador Lord Strangford’s correspondence, Ilicak shows
that the events in Istanbul following the beginning o f the war were at the same time the
climax o f Janissary power and its destruction: whereas the Janissary leaders took extreme
measures in the capital against those viewed as Greek conspirators, the eventual failure
o f all actions against the insurgency (including Janissary regiments sent to suppress it)
undermined the status and the prestige o f the corps and prepared the ground for a radical
reconfiguration o f the Ottoman political and military structure.
 PART ONE

INTRODUCING POLITICAL THOUGHT

 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THEORY,
REALITY AND PRACTICE

I. M etin K u n t *

H o w d id m en lea r n in th e past , ho w d id th ey k n o w ? Usually by trial-error-trial-suc-

cess. Humankind had millennia o f experience; thousands of opportunities to try things,
note failures, try other things until success at last. People ate berries and mushrooms and
grasses and observed that some were good, some not so good, even poisonous. Some
helped with headaches or stomach aches. This lore was handed down from generation to
generation.
But this knowledge is not sufficent for the inquiring mind. Humankind is not only
erectus but also sapiens. We have a brain and we use it to understand things. Knowing
was not enough for our clever ancestors; they also needed to know why things were the
way they were, why some herbs are good and some not, why some plants helped with
certain illnesses. Thinking about such things, wise men came up with ideas to explain the
observed reality. One type o f such effort at giving meaning to natural phenomena was
spiritual or religious. Some believed that spirits animated things, rocks, or trees, and that
some natural beings had a special relationship with particular groups o f people, tribes,
or settlements, becoming their totems. Others believed in supernatural beings, gods and
goddesses having powers over different aspects o f life. They also believed that some of
these gods or goddesses, rather like the totems, had a special relationship with groups of
people, tribes, and settlements or people o f professions and crafts. The idea developed
that towns or guilds had patron saints or protecting angels.
There were also attempts at making rational sense o f things. In different regions of
the world different theories were expounded. In East Asia, where the therapy technique
of acupuncture was discovered, how it works, and indeed the whole theory o f medicine,
was explained by the concept o f yin and yang. Beyond medicine, too, all phenomena
were conceived in terms o f this basic duality.
In our own region o f the Eastern Mediterranean, the theory o f four basic elements was
developed. According to this theory, all matter was made up of earth, air, fire, and water. In
the field o f medicine, a plant observed to be useful in terms of an ailment was deemed to

*
Professor (retired), Sabanci University.
4 I. METIN KUNT

be so because o f its dominant nature. Fever in a person obviously indicated the imbalance
o f the elements in a body with excessive fire. A plant whose main characteristic was water
would counteract the fire o f fever. Some elements, water and earth, were cool, heavy, and
dense by nature, whereas air and fire were hot, they were also fluid and subtle; air and
water were wet, but fire and earth were hot. Again, in medical theory, the human body
had four types o f functions and fluids corresponding to the elements: fire and the digestive
system, yellow bile; air and breathing, blood and mucus; water and the urinary system;
earth and the dense parts o f the body, bones and nails. In a further elaboration o f the body
and the four elements, the idea developed that the elements corresponded to four bodily
fluids and the chief organs: blood, air and spleen; yellow bile, fire and liver; black bile,
earth and spleen; phlegm, water and brain. A physician would treat the body in terms of
these substances and organs and the natural plants corresponding to or counteracting them.
Furthermore, the basic bodily fluids were also known as the humours correspond­
ing to temperaments. So not only was it physical well-being but also psychology which
could be explained in these terms. An excess o f blood in a person meant warm and moist,
a sanguine temperament, therefore a courageous, hopeful, playful, carefree person; yel­
low bile corresponded to a choleric temperament, and therefore an ambitious, leader-like,
restless, easily angered person; black bile corresponded to a melancholic temperament
and a despondent, quiet, analytical, serious person; phlegm to a phlegmatic and a calm,
thoughtful, patient, peaceful person.
Finally, the four elements and their characteristics also corresponded to the cosmos as
a whole and therefore to the pseudo-science o f astrology. The 12 signs o f the zodiac were
divided into four groups o f three according to their essential characteristics: Aries, Leo,
and Sagittarius were fire signs; Libra, Aquarius, and Gemini corresponded to air; Cancer,
Scorpio, and Pisces were watery; Capricorn, Taurus, and Virgo were earthy. With these
basic correspondences an astrologer could work out the fortunes o f people according to
their zodiac signs.
In this sense we can say that the theory o f the four elements is truly a theory o f ev­
erything, from medicine to psychology to the stars and fortunes. Nor is it a theory o f the
past. In medicine we may now believe in different explanations, as we do in psychology.
We now have different classifications o f personality types and different causalities for
medical conditions. Yet th,e four elements and humours theory o f everything has been so
strong that millions o f people still read their astrological fortunes in their daily papers.
The theory captured the artistic imagination to such a high degree that in the arts too the
four elements and humours have continued to inspire master works in music and in paint­
ing throughout the ages, all the way up to the twentieth century. We find allegorical rep­
resentations o f the Four Elements in the works o f painters such as the Italian Arcimboldo
and Flemish Beuckelaer in the sixteenth century to the ‘Aryan’ four elements o f Ziegler
in twentieth-century Germany. The four humours or temperaments are also represented
in twentieth-century music in the works o f o f Sibelius, Nielsen, and Hindemith, and
made into a ballet by Balanchine. The theory o f the four elements has been discarded in
all the sciences, in physics, chemistry, astronomy, and biology, and so the persistence of
the concept in the arts is all the more amazing.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THEORY, REALITY AND PRACTICE 5

You may well wonder what all this has to do with Ottoman political theory. The thing
is that the theory o f the four elements was such a powerful tool o f explanation that it also
involved social and political theory. Society was conceived o f as being made up o f four
groups, o f course corresponding to the four elements. These were not classes or castes
and did not form a hierarchical organisation as in the Hindu system. In Ottoman Turkish
they were referred to as the four riikn, the erkân-i erbaa, that together supported the edi­
fice of society. These were the soldiery, the so-called men o f the sword; learned men, men
of the pen; artisans and traders, men o f negotiation; and, finally, peasants, agricultural
producers, tillers, and animal breeders. These four social groups corresponded to the four
humours and the four elements and had their characteristics.
This elaboration o f the four elements/humours in the social sphere is an Ottoman
inheritance from earlier Islamic thought, which in turn was based on the Greco-Roman
heritage o f the Mediterranean basin. In the mid sixteenth century, Kmahzade Ali used
the concepts in his Ahlâk. Towards the end o f the century there appeared treatises on the
causes o f the perceived decline in state and society. In the seventeenth century, Kâtip
Çelebi explained Ottoman decline in a theoretical framework in terms o f the imbalance
in the body politic: as illness in humans was conceived as an imbalance o f the four hu­
mours, so, Kâtip Çelebi wrote, the problems in the Ottoman body politic were due to an
imbalance because o f the inordinate increase in the size o f the military. The correct treat­
ment, not by a physician in this case, but by a strict ruler, a sahibii’s -seyf in his words,
a forceful wielder o f the sword o f discipline, would be to reduce the military to regain
balance. He also added a further feature to his analysis: that at different ages the body
had different balances o f its humours. In the old age o f a body politic it was inevitable
that there would be more military than in younger days. In his view, the Ottoman Empire
was heading into old age and so the size o f the military could not be brought down to the
levels o f earlier times.
This idea that the body politic ages as the human body does brings up a further elabo­
ration, another view o f history, that o f cyclical changes in the fortunes o f states. As a
human body is bom, develops, gets older, and eventually dies, so does the body politic.
Cornell Fleischer demonstrated many years ago that Ottoman political writers arrived at
this idea before they were aware o f the writings o f Ibn Khaldun, the great historian of
the Maghreb, who developed his idea o f history as a preamble, the Prolegomena to his
historical study. The cyclical view o f history is now firmly associated with Ibn Khaldun,
but Ottomans too had arrived at this idea. Like Shakespeare’s seven ages o f man, this
was indeed a widespread conception. In Kâtip Çelebi this appears as three stages in the
life cycle o f a state. By the early eighteenth century, Ottoman intellectuals had read Ibn
Khaldun himself, and adopted his cycle o f five stages. They were so impressed by the
Prolegomena that the circle o f intellectuals around Ahmed III (r. 1703-1730) and his
Grand Vezir, Ibrahim Pasha o f Nevçehir, which has lately been likened to a royal acad­
emy similar to the British and French Royal Societies o f a generation earlier, decided that
Ibn Khaldun’s work should be translated into Ottoman Turkish. The task was taken up by
the scholar, later §eyhiilislam, M ehmet Sahib Efendi (1674-1749). This translation was
completed only in the following century and published in Istanbul; by then, Mehmet Sa-
6 I. METIN KUNT

hib’s contemporary Gianbattista Vico (1668-1744) had also published a work influenced
by Ibn Khaldun.
Already in the seventeenth century, Kâtip Çelebi thought that the Ottoman Empire
was in old age; the historian Naima, writing in the early decades o f the eighteenth cen­
tury, was also o f that opinion. Some people lived longer, so did some political structures,
with clean living and the care o f a good physician, but demise was inevitable. But by the
nineteenth century, Ottoman political disourse changed: the state was now called ‘devlet-
i ebed-m iiddef, the eternal state. It is a phrase redolent o f alliteration and musicality, but
no more true than the ‘thousand-year Reich’. What is the state in this expression? It is
not a realm like China or Iran where dynasties come and go but the ’devlet-i aliyye-i Os-
m a m ’, the great Ottoman state. Once the dynasty goes, so does the state. Did nineteenth-
century Ottomans believe their state could be eternal? Can this notion be considered
political theory? Or was it simply propaganda? What is the difference between political
theory and propaganda? Who was the target audience? Were Ottomans fooling them­
selves, or were they attempting to fool others, their bureaucrats, their people or outsiders?
Whatever the political ideas, theory, or propaganda, whether there is a cyclical view
o f history or belief in the durability o f the Ottoman state, there is a basic problem with
the notion o f the four elements and four humours as an explanation o f Ottoman reality.
The truth is that there were two different kinds o f cleavages in Ottoman society much
more important than the four pillars. One was that in fact the Ottomans conceived of
their society as being composed o f two groups, those that produced and paid taxes, and
those who administered and were remunerated. The Ottoman terms for these two groups
were askerî for the members o f the state and reaya for the tax-paying subjects. The lit­
eral meaning o f these terms is instructive: askerî means the military and reaya means
the flock. Military, in this context, does not mean strictly fighters but any state officials,
including bureaucrats, lawyers, and teachers. They together tend their flock, the subjects.
The imagery might have been the same as in the Christian clerical hierarchy, but here it
was the horsemen, the original military who were the shepherds. Two o f the four pillars
o f society, according to the political theory, the fighters and the learned men, made up
the askerî group, while the two others, artisans and farmers, were the Ottoman reaya. In
reality, the four pillars were not equal at all. The other cleavage does not even get a men­
tion, but it is at least as serious and in fact in time it became perhaps the more important
division. This has to do with religious identity. The four-pillars model does not take
into account that there were many non-Muslims in Ottoman society, perhaps as many as
there were Muslims. The distinctions in both cleavages were so serious that members of
different groups were expected to wear different clothing. In the case o f non-Muslims,
this is well known, under the rubric o f sumptuary laws: different religious groups were
to wear different colours in their clothing so they could be immediately identified. These
expectations may have been only sporadically observed, in fact more often breached,
nevertheless the expectation remained and was renewed in fermans from time to time.
It is less well known that there was also an expectation that subjects should not wear
opulent clothing. This is in fact the primary meaning o f the term ‘sumptuary laws’, that
opulence and ostentation should be curbed. The notion is quite universal; it is observed
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THEORY, REALITY AND PRACTICE 7

in many periods o f history and in many regions. The most striking example in Ottoman
history was when Sultan Suleiman, him self famous as the ‘Magnificent’, was greeted by
the burghers o f Bursa when he visited in 1538. To welcome the Sultan to their city, the
leading people o f Bursa rode out in their holiday best, but they were shocked when the
Sultan was not delighted to see them at all, but was outraged, and berated them for their
rich clothing and horses. Such opulence was for his officers and officials, he said, not for
the commoners. An Ottoman subject could be prosperous but never ostentatious.
How could Ottoman theorists make do with a theory that ignored the askeri-reaya
distinction and left out half its subjects? What practical conclusions could they draw
from their theory to help with practical policies? There was in fact another formulation
which may have influenced the behaviour o f Ottoman rulers and the ruling elites. This is
known as the ‘circle o f equity’ and places the four pillars in relationship with each other.
The soldiers protect society, the learned men provide education and the judicial system,
with their protection the subjects produce goods and pay taxes, which support the sol­
diery and the men o f learning. In other words they all need each other. The ruler was seen
as the centre o f this circular relationship, the axle o f the social wheel. The Sultan needed
to be a just ruler, which meant not only that he should provide justice for all his subjects,
but that justice was also keeping the social balance. The different elements should be in
equipose, none should gain ascendancy over the others. Here once again the subjects
were not differentiated according to religious identity, but this was a positive neglect of
confessional reality: the Sultan was the ruler o f all and he had to be a just ruler to all.
The idea o f the ju st ruler was taken seriously in political commentaries and at least some
Sultans tried to live up to this expectation, that he should protect all his subjects and be
just to all. To know to what extent they succeeded, one needs to consider not only what
Muslim authors wrote, but also what the Christians and Jews thought about their Sultan,
whether they considered him their rightful and righteous ruler.
I am confident that the papers presented at this conference will be o f great help in an­
swering such fundamental questions. In human history, theory may have followed reality,
but once it took hold o f people’s imagination, it in turn had an impact on reality. This
interplay is an eminently worthy theme.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT:
TOWARD A REVISED HISTORY

L inda T. D a rling *

O t toman po litical t h o u g h t h a s lo n g been v iew ed in contrast with that o f Europe.

European studies o f political thought have concentrated mainly on the questions o f the
development o f concepts o f democracy and limited monarchy, and the reasons why
such ideas did not develop in other world areas.*1 European writing on Ottoman political
thought has targeted the dependence o f sultanic autocracy on Islamic or Persian political
ideas, the failure o f political thinkers in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries
successfully to ‘reform’ Ottoman governance, and the adoption o f Western political con­
cepts during and after the Tanzimat.2
In recent years, however, interest in Ottoman political thought has escalated in many
disciplines and periods. Its significance now extends outside Ottoman history, as world
historians and students o f empire include the Ottomans in their comparative purview,
and as the perennial appeal o f mirrors for princes intensifies.3 Scholars now go beyond
the standard literature and the standard narrative to study neglected works, revise the
narrative, and compare it or connect it with narratives o f European and Eastern political
thought.4

* University of Arizona.
1 For example, J. G. A. Pocock, Virtue, Commerce, and History: Essays on Political Thought
and History, Chiefly in the Eighteenth Century (Cambridge 1985). For the Middle East see A.
Black, The History o f Islamic Political Thought: From the Prophet to the Present (New York
2001).
2 C. H. Fleischer, Bureaucrat and Intellectual in the Ottoman Empire: The Historian Mustafa Ali
(1541-1600) (Princeton 1986); B. Lewis, The Emergence o f Modern Turkey (Oxford 1961); N.
Berkes, The Development o f Secularism in Turkey (Montreal 1964; rpt. New York 1998).
3 P. F. Bang and D. Kolodziejczyk (eds), Universal Empire: A Comparative Approach to Impe­
rial Culture and Representation in Eurasian History (Cambridge 2012); V. Syros (ed.), Well
Begun Is Only Half Done: Tracing Aristotle’s Political Ideas in Medieval Arabic, Syriac, Byz­
antine, and Jewish Sources (Tempe 2011); P. Crone, God’s Rule: Government and Islam (New
York 2004); A. al-Azmeh, Muslim Kingship: Power and the Sacred in Muslim, Christian, and
Pagan Polities (London 1997).
4 B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire: Political and Social Transformation in the Early
10 LINDA T. DARLING

As a number o f the papers in this volume show, however, our concept o f Ottoman
political thought needs to be based not only on the thinking o f elite political writers but
also that o f rulers and their mostly non-literate subjects, as far as it can be determined
from their actions.5 For this we need sources beyond formal political literature. Too much
reliance has been placed on the literature o f advice, which represents only the opinions o f
a minority faction within the elite and not the directions taken by the state. One o f the in­
triguing things about these papers, as well as much o f the recent work on Ottoman politi­
cal thought, is the way they expand the source base. Beyond the traditional histories, mir­
rors for princes, and literature o f advice, political thought is being traced in documents,
law codes, poetry, miniatures, petitions, architecture, and a host o f other types o f sources.
Different genres o f writing served different functions and reflected the political ideas o f
different social groups. Moving outward from the traditional literary sources enables us to
study the political thought o f state officials and o f wider groups in society.
Ottoman political thought often appears reactive, a response to circumstances per­
ceived as threatening the status quo, which caused a re-assertion or a rethinking o f in­
stitutions, relationships, and what we would today call ideologies which were taken for
granted most o f the time. Much o f the earliest Ottoman political literature was an ad­
aptation o f the works and ideas o f the past, and it was apparently when the Ottomans
faced new challenges that they engaged in original political thought. Thus, to be properly
understood, works o f political thought must be contextualised in their historical setting;
also significant are the authors’ personal concerns and position in society, as well as the
works’ relationship to one another. The detailed study o f individual works, therefore,
must be accompanied by efforts to construct and refine a broader history o f Ottoman
political thought. Such an effort is outlined here.6
The Ottomans worked within apolitical tradition inherited from the Seljuks and Ilkha-
nids which was composed o f three interpenetrating strands; one may be called Islamic,
in that it was drawn from the experience and writings o f the early Muslim community;
another Near Eastern, the inheritance of the pre-Islamic empires o f the Middle East and
Persia, developed further by the Umayyads, the Abbasids, and their successors; and the
third Turco-Mongol, founded on steppe tribal governance and law.7 To this inheritance

Modern World (New York 2010); H. Yilmaz, Caliphate Redefined: The Mystical Turn in Ot­
toman Political Thought (Princeton 2018). Comparisons with other literatures often encoun­
ter severe difficulties; see L. T. Darling, ‘Mirrors for Princes in Europe and the Middle East:
A Case of Historiographical Incommensurability’, in A. Classen (ed.), East Meets West in the
Middle Ages and Early Modern Times: Transcultural Experiences in the Premodern World
(Berlin and Boston 2013), 223-242.
5 On this subject see further L. T. Darling, A History o f Social Justice and Political Power in the
Middle East: The Circle o f Justice from Mesopotamia to Globalization (London 2013).
6 The essay which follows is based on L. T. Darling, ‘Ottomans (1299-1924)’, in G. Bôwering,
P. Crone, W. al-Kadi, D. Stewart, and M. Q. Zaman (eds), The Princeton Encyclopedia o f Is­
lamic Political Thought (Princeton 2012), 402-403.
7 H. inalcik, The Ottoman Empire: The Classical Age, trans. N. Itzkowitz (London 1973), 65-69;
Darling, Social Justice and Political Power.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT 11

they added elements o f Byzantine political thought, acquired through a long period of
interaction and conquest and especially relevant after their conquest o f Constantinople
jn 1453. The Ottomans, like the Mongols, saw world conquest as the main purpose of
rule. Despite rhetorical differences, this purpose was generally in harmony with Islamic
monotheism’s goal o f world domination and conversion as well as Near Eastern royal
authority and bureaucratic governance. Like the Ilkhanids and other Mongol polities,
they also found that ruler’s law and the practice o f justice, reconciled with Islamic law
and implemented in state courts, could create a political community that went beyond
the Muslims to include the ruler’s subjects o f all faiths. By the sixteenth-century reign
o f Sultan Süleyman (1520-1566), the author Kinalizade and many others apparently be­
lieved that the Ottomans had succeeded, or were about to succeed, in creating the just
and virtuous government recommended by the Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle.8
Two major tensions modified this fairly straightforward development. First, the initial
Ottoman conquests were made in Byzantine territory, and for over two centuries Mus­
lims were in the minority in the empire o f the Ottomans. Gaining non-Muslim loyalty
and co-operation was necessary for survival and growth, and early rulers allied with
Christian powers, created non-Muslim military units, and brought non-Muslims into the
palace and the central administration.9 Many o f these non-Muslims converted to Islam,
but nevertheless some Muslims blamed them for the ostensible ‘corruption’ that they
introduced into supposedly pure ‘Islamic’ politics.10 For such critics, the assimilation o f
ideas and institutions from non-Ottoman, non-Turkish, or non-Muslim sources became
an excuse for the rejection o f state policies. As in earlier Muslim politics (the Abbasid
period is an example), an opposition strain developed in Ottoman politics which used
Islamic piety and an abhorrence o f outside influences to critique the state and condemned
rulers’ pragmatic politics o f incorporation as the source o f all political problems besetting
the Empire. This opposition strain re-appeared again and again in different forms.
The other main tension within political thought derived from the Ottomans’ transi­
tion from the conquest state and expanding economy o f the early centuries to the stable
geography and challenged economy o f the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and then
to the shrinking Empire and modernisation efforts o f the eighteenth and nineteenth centu­
ries. The turmoils and re-adjustments generated by these changes were seen as a decline
from an initial state o f purity and obedience, when the Ottoman gazis under the early
Sultans created and expanded the Empire.11 In European Orientalist thought this became
a decline from a strong, successful state to a weak and decadent state, a reduction o f the

8 Kmahzade Ali Çelebi, Ahlâk-i Alâî (Bulaq H. 1248/1832), 2:105-106.

9 See H. W. Lowry, The Nature o f the Early Ottoman State (Albany 2003); C. Isom-Verhaaren,
Allies with the Infidel: The Ottoman and French Alliance in the Sixteenth Century (London
2011).
10 For example, F. Giese, Die altosmanischen anonymen Chroniken = Tevarih-i Al-i ‘Osman: Text
und Übersetzung, pt. 2 (Leipzig 1925), 27-33.
11 See C. Kafadar, ‘On the Purity and Corruption of the Janissaries’, TSAB, 15 (1991), 273-274;
idem, ‘The Question of Ottoman Decline’, Harvard Middle Eastern and Islamic Review, 4
(1997-1998), 43.
12 LINDA T. DARLING

Empire’s original potential for world conquest (thankfully!) and a growth o f corruption
and inefficiency.12 This change, however it should be interpreted, generated a literature
o f advice and repair o f the state that became the most prominent strand o f Ottoman po­
litical thought, especially in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, and was
among the earliest types o f literature to be published and translated in the West.13 On the
basis of these works, both Ottoman thinkers and later scholars concentrated on decline
and decline consciousness, paying little or no attention to aspects o f Ottoman history and
society that pointed in other directions.
These works o f advice, the nasihatnames, are often taken as equivalent to Ottoman
political thought, although, as has been pointed out, they represent the thought o f only
one class o f Ottomans, the literate elite.14 The history o f political literature, however, is
broader than these advice texts. The earliest Turkish and Ottoman political works, ap­
pearing in the fourteenth century, were translations and adaptations o f Seljuk and Ilkha-
nid mirrors for princes. The first original works were composed in the fifteenth century
within that literary tradition, but in varied genres.15 In addition to mirrors for princes, his­
tories and historical epics, poems, letters, and ethical works also conveyed their authors’
attitudes toward the state, individual rulers, and specific policies. In the early sixteenth
century, the Ottoman prince Korkud and the Grand Vizier Littfi Pasha wrote political
works in new styles outside the mirror for princes, Korkud in the genre o f Islamic argu­
ment, and Liitfi Pasha in the new manner o f candid political advice.16
Several o f these works, even some o f the earliest, exhibited a theme that would be­
come characteristic o f Ottoman political writing: the greatness and virtue o f government
in the past (the Ottoman past or even the distant Muslim past) and its sad decline in the
present. This theme has nothing to do with what has come to be known as ‘the decline o f
the Ottoman Empire’, although it has often been taken as a representation o f it. Writers
in the first decade or so o f the fifteenth century, such as Ahmedi, Yah si Fakih, and the
anonymous author ofth e recently-discovered gazaname o f Murad I (1362-1389), already
sounded this note, claiming that the ‘Byzantine’ administrative complexity introduced by
Bayezid 1 (1389-1402) corrupted the purity o f the nomad conquerors and caused them

12 B. Lewis, ‘Some Reflections on the Decline of the Ottoman Empire’, SI, 9 (1958), 111-127.
13 B. Lewis, ‘Ottoman Observers of Ottoman Decline’, Islamic Studies, 1 (1962), 71-87.
14 R. A. Abou El-Haj, ‘The Expression of Ottoman Political Culture in the Literature of Advice
to Princes (Nasihatnameler): Sixteenth to Twentieth Centuries’, in R. K. Bhattacharya and A.
K. Ghosh (eds), Sociology in the Rubric o f Social Science: Professor Ramkrishna Mukherjee
Felicitation Volume (Calcutta 1995), 282-292.
15 Ahmedî, Iskendernâme, trans. K. Silay, ‘Ahmedi’s History of the Ottoman Dynasty’, JTS, 16
(1992), 129-200; Çeyhoglu, Kenzü’l-Küberâ ve Mehekkü’l-Ulemâ, ed. Kemal Yavuz (Anka­
ra 1991); Ahmed b. Hüsameddin el-Amasî, Mir'atü’l-Mülûk, MS Siileymaniye Esad Efendi
1890; Sinan Paça, Maarifnâme, ed. L H. Ertaylan (Istanbul 1961).
16 N. Al-Tikriti, ‘Çehzade Korkud [ca. 1468-1513]’, in K. Çiçek (ed.) Pax Ottomana: Studies in
Memoriam Prof. Dr. Nejat Gôyünç (Haarlem and Ankara 2001), 659-674; M. S. Kütükoglu,
‘Lütfi Paça Asafnâmesi (Yeni Bir Metin Tesisi Denemesi)’, in Prof. Dr. Bekir Kütükoglu ’na
Armagan (Istanbul 1991), 49-99.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT 13

to lose divine favour, permitting the defeat by Timur in 1402.17 Each subsequent era was
seen as worse than the one before, even that o f Süleyman the Magnificent, despite the
eulogistic gloss o f the official histories. Measured against the ideal state o f these writers’
imaginings, real political life repeatedly demonstrated the validity o f this theme.
This argument suddenly became politically relevant in the disturbed conditions o f the
late sixteenth and early seventeenth century, when Sultans were young, uninterested, or
mentally deficient, and governance was in the hands o f palace personnel and women. No
longer just an antiquarian musing on the past, it became a weapon for factional infighting
in the form o f a veritable outburst of political writing in the new style o f ‘honest advice’
introduced by Liitfi Pasha. Officials and administrators, such as Mustafa Ali, Koçi Bey,
Kâtip Çelebi, and others less well known or still unpublished, censured the government’s
inability to cope with drastic climatic, economic, technological, and geopolitical changes
and blamed it on a loss o f administrative ethics and a collapse o f the social structure.18
They wanted either to restore the governing effectiveness o f the Siileymanic period or to
impel the Sultan to seize the reins o f government and eliminate bureaucratic corruption
and the crossing o f social class lines by force. Meanwhile, the Kadizadeli opposition,
mainly critics in religious positions, complained in Islamic terms about sins and ethical
deviations in the body politic, such as Sufi worship, coffee and tobacco consumption,
and peace with Christian states.19 They wanted to convert the ruler and his entourage
to a more pious and traditional Islam and thus activate G od’s approval in support o f the
Ottomans on the world stage. The Ottoman defeat at Vienna in 1683 ended the debate
between these two positions as to the real cause o f the Empire’s woes in favour o f the for­
mer position. The question was not really resolved, however, as evidenced by eighteenth-
century governmental efforts to address both sets o f concerns through military-political
reform and the preaching o f Islam. In that century, politics also spread beyond the elites;
a popular politics o f artisans, urban migrants, and their Janissary and ulema protectors
developed in the cities, and at the same time a politics o f rural notables and tax-farmers
emerged in the provinces. Our consideration o f Ottoman political thought needs to take
account o f this broadening o f the politically relevant population, which undoubtedly had
political ideas as well.

17 See Ahmedî, iskendernâme; D. J. Kastritsis (ed. and trans.), The Tales o f Sultan Mehmed, Son
o f Bayezid Khan (Cambridge 2007), 1-39; A$ikpa$azade, 'Âshikpashazâdeh Ta’rïkhï: A His­
tory o f the Ottoman Empire to A.H. 833 (AD 1478), ed. Ali Bey (Istanbul 1914; rpt. Westmead
1970), 54, 70.
18 The classic works are: Mustafa Ali, Nushatü s-selâtin, ed. and trans. A. Tietze as Mustafa ‘A ll’s
Counsel for Sultans o f 1581: Edition, Translation, Notes, 2 vols (Vienna 1979, 1982), hereaf­
ter Mustafa Ali, Counsel for Sultans; Koçi Bey, Koçi Bey Risalesi, ed. A. K. Aksiit (Istanbul
1939); idem, Koçi Bey Risalesi, ed. Y. Kurt (Ankara 1994); Kâtip Çelebi, Düstûrü’l-amel li-
islahi 1-halel, in Ayn-i Ali Efendi, Kavânin-i Âl-i Osman der hülâsa-i mezâmin-i defter-i dîvân,
ed. M. T. Gôkbilgin, 119-140 (Istanbul 1979); trans. A. Can as Bozukluklarin diizeltilmesinde
tutulacakyollar (düstûru’l-amel li-islahi’l-halel) (Ankara 1982).
19 M. C. Zilfi, ‘The Kadizadelis: Discordant Revivalism in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul’, Jour­
nal o f Near Eastern Studies, 45 (1986), 251-269.
14 LINDA T. DARLING

Nineteenth-century European political ideas appeared to offer a way out o f this

endless spiral through their assumptions about progress and development. They were
therefore embraced with enthusiasm, especially by Tanzimat officials responsible for the
Empire’s survival. These officials instituted regulatory changes backed by ruler’s law,
with provisions treating non-Muslims equally with Muslims and bringing them into the
government. The Islamic tradition also offered traditional ideas re-interpreted to support
aspects o f modernisation, such as protection o f the Empire’s subjects, the Sultans’ power
as Caliph o f the Muslims to order society and government for the benefit o f his people,
adherence to law, especially Islamic law, and fairness o f taxation. An opposition strain
dismissed European ideas as one more foreign intervention or wielded Islamic concepts
in rejection o f the ‘corruption’ o f Westernisation. While reforming officials laboured to
implement bureaucratic modernisation, the Young Ottomans generated a new political
literature advocating limited monarchy and individual rights, often with Islamic ideas as
justification. In turn, the Hamidian period saw Islamic concepts used to justify top-down
modernisation and sultanic absolutism. All these ideas prepared the way for the republi­
can government and popular politics o f the twentieth century.20
Would a history o f political thought based on practice rather than precept have the
same trajectory? The papers in this volume are part o f an effort not only to expand our
understanding o f Ottoman political thought, but also to interpret it in the light o f O t­
toman political behaviour. We must do intellectual history with social history always
in view. Even with respect to political ideals, and still more so regarding reports o f
political actions, we need to ask, out o f what situation and social configuration did this
work arise and what effect did it have on Ottoman political and social life? Did people
believe these statements and did they attempt to act accordingly? Is there any way to
check what the political writers reported about the conditions o f their day? The ques­
tion o f what specific terms m eant usually means ‘in political argument’, but we also
ought to try to determine what they meant in Ottoman society more broadly. We should
investigate how a specific w ork interacted with other works; did it agree or disagree
with those written before or after it? We also ought to look for its role in society, who
read it and how it was used. M ost o f the authors were members o f the political elite, in
or out o f office, successes or failures, satisfied or disgruntled, often unhappy with what
was going on around them. As has been pointed out, they all had their personal agendas,
and we cannot interpret their works rightly without knowing those agendas.21 Even
though they wrote in general terms, they were often addressing specific conditions, and
to understand those conditions we need to read the chronicles and study the archival
documents and other sources that reveal the political thought o f those who did not write
literary works.

20 H. inalcik, ‘The Nature of Traditional Society: Turkey’, in R. E. Ward and D.A Rostow (eds),
Political Modernization in Japan and Turkey (Princeton 1964), 42-63; Darling, Social Justice
and Political Power, 158-166, 171-177.
21 R. A. Abou-El-Haj, Formation o f the Modern State: The Ottoman Empire, Sixteenth to Eigh­
teenth Centuries (Albany 1991), 22.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT 15

Most importantly, we need to free ourselves from the standard narrative o f political
thought and from the temptation just to add more details without rethinking the whole.
Those who wrote the texts o f Ottoman political thought wrote within an extremely robust
tradition that shaped and limited what they said and how they said it. Attention to politi­
cal practice, to the ideas o f those who did not write or could not write, or who wrote what
is not commonly considered political literature, enables us to bypass the stereotypes and
understand Ottoman society afresh.
 PART TW O

W ORDS AND CONCEPTS

 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE:
RE-DEFINING AN ETHOS OF POWER
IN THE LONG SIXTEENTH CENTURY

Heather L. F erg u so n *

S ch olars attentive to O tto m a n tr en d s in h isto ry writing over the past decade have
produced rich, and richly illustrated, analytical frameworks for assessing the linkages be­
tween historical narratives, political ideologies, and the operations o f the Ottoman estab­
lishment.*1 One consequence o f this newly-defined research agenda has been a reassess­
ment of the Ottoman state as an object o f historical inquiry. Thus, from the early attempts
to invest Osman’s dynasty with legitimacy,2 to the seventeenth-century controversies that
led to new manuscript production agendas and ultimately disseminated competing vi­
sions o f Ottoman authority,3 this wellspring o f scholarship on history and statehood has
all but re-defined the field o f Ottoman studies. In part, this is due to a generalizable ef­
fort to delineate Ottoman state dynamics in relation to discourse, and to the way in which
structures o f thought and modes o f practice play a role in both defining and dispensing

* Claremont McKenna College.

1 Emine Fetvaci’s masterpiece demonstrates this trend: Picturing History at the Ottoman Court
(Bloomington 2013). I would like to thank Marinos Sariyannis for his patient and gracious
guidance through the publication process. The inspiring and productive comments from the
anonymous reviewer also enabled me to reframe some of the arguments presented here and for
this I am also grateful. Of course, all errors of fact and judgment are my own. I should also note
that my effort here to reflect on the interplay between state and state also formed the theoreti­
cal backdrop to my book The Proper Order o f Things: Language, Power and Law in Ottoman
Administrative Discourses (Stanford 2018). For a slightly different approach to the historio­
graphic topics and historical personages addressed here, see the introduction and chapter four.
2 See the oft-cited, C. Kafadar, Between Two Worlds: The Construction o f the Ottoman State
(Berkeley 1995).
3 For a less obvious example, consult J. Pfeiffer, ‘Confessional Polarization in the 17th Century
Ottoman Empire and Yüsuf ibn Ebï ‘Abdü’d-Deyyân’s Keçfü’l-esrâr fi ilzàmi’l-Yehüd ve’l-
ahbàr’, in C. Adang and S. Schmidtke (eds.), Contacts and Controversies between Muslims,
Jews and Christians in the Ottoman Empire and Pre-Modern Iran (Würzburg 2010), 15-55.
Further, the collected essays in H. E. Çipa and E. Fetvaci (eds), Writing History at the Ottoman
Court: Editing the Past, Fashioning the Future (Bloomington 2013) indicate the expansive co­
hort of scholars attentive to the intersection between narrative and historical processes.
 20 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

authoritative claims and positions across the imperial domains. However, as this essay
seeks to demonstrate, Ottoman studies as a whole still grapple with a basic conundrum
that often undermines even the most innovative scholarship: how should Ottomanists as­
sess the difference, if indeed there is one, between narratives about the state (referenced
here onward as ‘state’, in scare quotes) and the state in itself {referenced as state, in ital­
ics, so as to simplify the methodological distinction between the two).4
Like most conundrums, this ‘state'/state distinction and its varied entangled prob­
lematics possess many, often hidden, internal complexities that shadow research into
Ottoman imperial dynamics. Only four o f these complexities will be fully addressed in
the sections below, with the intent first to provide a distillation o f trends and then to serve
as a potential stimulus for future discussion. First, questions concerning the ‘statC/state
require a reassertion o f commensurate AfroEurasian histories, a point Marshall Hodgson
definitively made in the 1970s, but one which Ottomanists often lost sight o f when delv­
ing into the intricacies o f politics and administration under the auspices o f the House o f
Osman.5 Second, within the shared environment o f centralizing early modern courts,
the relationship between absolutist and universalist claims o f rulers and the quite obvi­
ously mediated and fragmented nature o f their rule, also requires careful disambigua­
tion. Third, and perhaps most purposefully, attention should be paid to the conjuncture
between the methods by which scholars and bureaucrats conceptualized imperial power
and prescribed formal rubrics for articulating political thought and the varied modes o f
administrative practice adhered to within Ottoman domains. This last point also draws
attention to the intersection between a potentially ‘Ottoman’ mode o f understanding and
practice and the efforts by ‘Ottomanists’ to assess these dynamics in current scholarship.
Hence the essay’s title and intent to identify efforts by both Ottomans and Ottomanists
to measure and define a political ethos associated with the ‘state’ and with state-making
projects within the imperial domain. Finally, discernable within each o f these three points
are the questions o f periodization that remain unresolved despite the post-declensionist
nature of Ottoman imperial scholarship.6 Lacking a clear substitute for the ‘post-classical’
framework established by the doyen o f the field, Halil înalcik, this essay adopts a trick
o f the trade, by elongating the timescape o f analysis. While the “long sixteenth century”
may seem glib, the titular small gesture is also purposeful: it connects the centralizing
.trends o f the sixteenth century with discourses o f imperial power and the reformulation

4 Gabi Piterberg pointedly asserted this problematic in his cursory, yet pithy, foray into seven­
teenth-century chronicle writing: G. Piterberg, An Ottoman Tragedy: History and Historiogra­
phy at Play (Berkeley 2003).
5 M. G. S. Hodgson, The Venture o f Islam: Conscience and History in a World Civilization, 3
vols. (Chicago 1974); and E. Burke (ed.), Rethinking World History: Essays on Europe, Islam,
and World History (Cambridge 1993).
6 The literature germane to these opening claims will be addressed in detail below; however,
it bears noting that two of the most significant efforts to address problems of periodization
are now decades old: J. Hathaway, ‘Problems of Periodization in Ottoman History: The 15th
through the 18th Centuries’, TSAB 20, (1996), 25-31, and L. Peirce, ‘Changing Perceptions of
the Ottoman Empire: The Early Centuries’, Mediterranean Historical Review, 19 (2004), 6-28.
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 21

o f administrative structures extending into the new geopolitical environments o f the mid­
seventeenth century.7 The essay thereby presumptively moves beyond approaches that
suggest ruptures and/or continuities, or amorphous ‘transformations’ as decline alterna­
tives. The section which follows delineates how each o f the above conundrums become
intertwined in both historical and historiographic treatments o f the Ottoman ‘stat e ’/state.

Contrapuntal Histories: Alternate Pathways to the ‘State ’8

Cornel Fleischer’s customarily portentous insights into the “Ibn Khaldunism” o f Otto­
man litterateurs provides a superb framework for integrating Ottomans with Ottomanists,
political thought with administrative practice, the House o f Osman with surrounding
dynastic and monarchical lineages, and epochal with synchronic methodologies.9 De­
bates concerning how Ibn Khaldun’s (d. 1395) cyclical universalism traversed Ottoman
intellectual domains continue, yet notable indeed is how the self-trained polymath Kâtip
Çelebi came to embrace a life-cycle approach to assessing historical change.10 His short
tract, Düstûrü ’l-amel li-islahi ’l-halel or the Guiding Principles fo r the Rectification o f
Defects, singularly condenses a range o f concerns pertaining to the presumed ‘corrup­
tion’ o f the Ottoman state in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, and pro­
poses a reformist goal to ensure the continued durability of the Ottoman Empire.11 He
does so by placing the Ottoman establishment within Ibn Khaldun’s life-cycle mapping

7 After writing this article and completing final updates to footnotes and commentary, I fortu­
nately happened upon Kaya Sahin’s superb review essay K. Sahin, ‘The Ottoman Empire in the
Long Sixteenth Century’, Renaissance Quarterly, 70 (2017), 220-234. This coincidence in an
‘elongating effort’ indicates a clear trend toward unseating ‘rise and decline’ tropes in the field.
8 “Contrapuntal” as a mode of critical analysis derives from E. Said’s effort in Culture and Im­
perialism (New York 1993), 51 to form what might be termed a ‘simultaneity of analysis’ be­
tween literary works produced in the metropolis and those in the colonies. This simultaneity of
analysis, and the productive dissonance and revelatory insights achieved through interweaving
sources, timescapes, and cultural zones, can arguably be adapted to address potential intersec­
tions between Ottoman scholar-bureaucrats and Ottomanist practitioners in the present
9 C. H. Fleischer, ‘Royal Authority, Dynastic Cyclism, and ‘Ibn Khaldûnism’ in Sixteenth-Cen­
tury Ottoman Letters’, Journal o f Asian and African Studies, 18 (1983), 198-220.
10 See Marinos Sariyannis’ contribution to the present volume and comprehensive assessment
of key shifts in conceptual and political treatments of state and statecraft in Ottoman Politi­
cal Thought up to the Tanzimat: A Concise History (Rethymno 2015). My historiographic ar­
guments owe much to the work of N. Sigalas, ‘Devlet et état: du glissement sémantique d’un
ancien concept du pouvoir au début du XVlIle siècle ottoman’, in G. Grivaud and S. Petme-
zas (eds) Byzantina et Moderna: Mélanges en l ’honneur d ’Hélène Antoniadis-Bibicou (Athens
2007), 385-415.
11 There are several preserved manuscripts of this pamphlet. The Siileymaniye Library contains
four: Esad Efendi, No. 2067-1; Hidiv ismail Paça, No. 142; Hamidiye, No. 1469; Lala Ismail,
No. 343. There is also one held in the Nuruosmaniye Library, No. 4075. A printed copy of the
pamphlet was also appended to two works of Ayn-i Ali Efendi, Kavanin-i Al-i Osman der hiil-
âsa-i mezamin-i defter-i divan and Risale-i vazife-horân ve meratib-i bendegân-i Al-i Osman.
This manuscript is also contained in the Siileymaniye Library, îzmirli ismail Hakki, No. 2472.
22 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

o f imperial trajectories, and thus within the legacy o f late antique and Islamicate phi­
losophies o f the ‘embodied’ politic. Kâtip Çelebi ultimately identifies strategies so as to
extend the Empire’s ‘age o f m aturity’ and in the process articulates a distinct notion o f
Ottoman power, separate from the Sultan yet evocative o f a hierarchical state ecology.
Scholars o f the Ottoman Empire have also long sought to understand the ‘middle years’
o f the dynasty, when victorious battles could no longer serve as signposts for imperial
success. They have further debated the nature o f Ottoman power, its relationship, or
lack thereof, with contemporaries, and the best means to articulate a narrative o f state
transformation from conquest to consolidation. Confusion over how best to characterize
the relationship between centralized courts, the population they managed, and the tactics
deployed to ensure longevity is not unique to the Ottoman case. In fact, one o f the most
compelling debates in historical studies concerns the relationship between state forma­
tion and standards for periodization. Triggered by Norbert Elias’s The Civilizing Process,
a broad analytical effort to re-define court politics in the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries
also foregrounded a historiographical ‘middle period’ between fragmentary medieval
kingdoms and the formation o f the modern state.12 The coincident creation o f central­
ized courts with established seats o f power across Eurasia was dramatic, and inspired
historiographical efforts to assess a comparative politics o f state-making that began in
the fifteenth century. The list is geographically diffuse, with the Ming Yongel Emperor
(r. 1402 1424), Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II (r. 1444-46 and 1451-81) joined by Philip
the Good (r. 1419-67) and Charles the Bold (r. 1467-77) in Burgundy, Matthias Corvinus
in Hungary (r. 1458-1490), along with Louis XI (r. 1461-1483) in France, Henry VII (r.
1485-1509) in England, and Ferdinand o f Aragon (r. 1468-1516) with Isabella o f Castile
(r. 1468-1504) laying claim to ever more territory in the Iberian Peninsula. The trend
continued in the early sixteenth century, with the establishment o f the Safavid (1502) and
Mughal (1526) Empires. Deemed by Randolph Stam “the early modem muddle”, initial
efforts to characterize the period tended toward developmentalist models that presumed
the teleology o f the nation-state and reinforced Eurocentric narratives o f modernity.13

This printed manuscript copy was also published in the late nineteenth century, Kavanin-i Al-i
Osman der hülâsa-i mezamin-i defter-i divan (Istanbul 1864), 119-140.
12 N. Elias, The Civilizing Process (New York 1978).
13 R. Stam, ‘The Early Modem Muddle’, Journal o f Early Modern History, 6 (2002), 296-307.
Dipesh Chakrabarty, in a more recent review of the politics and biases of periodization, sug­
gests the term acts as a form of intellectual laziness, although he is more troubled by the dis­
tinction between modernization and modernity than by the ‘early modem’ compound phrase,
‘The Muddle of Modernity’, The American Historical Review, 116 (2011), 663-675. The spe­
cial issue of Daedalus devoted to early modernities includes scholars who argue for the im­
portance of terms like state, nation, community, and public sphere for the sixteenth and sev­
enteenth centuries across the political and geographical range of Eurasia, such as Tokugawa
Japan, Korea, Ming China, Spain, France, and India. See ‘Early Modernities’, Daedalus, 127
(1998). Kathleen Davis applies the most trenchant critique of historiographical assumptions
contained in periodization schemes and categories such as ‘early modem’ and ‘feudal’ in K.
Davis, Periodization and Sovereignty: How Ideas o f Feudalism and Secularization Govern the
Politics o f Time (Philadelphia 2008).
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 23

Norbert Elias suggested that the court served as an agent and expression of monarchi­
cal absolutism, as it sublimated the nobility to play a high-stakes game for favor within
the ambit o f absolutist courts. He further argued that this game, and the military, fis­
cal, and ethical norms associated with it, marked a transitional phase between feudal,
decentralized politics and the democratic centralization of the modem liberal state. He
insisted that the formation o f an established court, polite culture, and bureaucratic rule in
combination yielded an alliance between an emergent bourgeoisie and the princely ruler,
and was the key conjuncture leading toward the development o f a modem nation state.14
Perry Anderson, by contrast, understood the absolutist states o f the sixteenth-eighteenth
centuries as transitional phenomena, allowing for the growth o f the bourgeoisie while
concentrating feudal power and privilege in the state apparatus.15 Eugene Rice and An­
thony Grafton sum up this approach by rather blandly stating that before the early mod­
em period European states were more feudal than sovereign and after it more sovereign
than feudal.16 While for Elias, the “transformation o f the nobility from a class o f knights
into a class o f courtiers” was a prime example o f the “civilizing process”, for more re­
cent analysts, the court was neither a monolithic entity, nor an instrument o f autocracy,
and Louis X IV ’s Versailles, often proffered as the ultimate site o f domestication, stands
instead as an exemplar o f its ambiguous and porous existence.17
This move, from absolutist and centralized to ambiguous and porous, also marked
a shift in the field o f Ottoman Studies from idealist and developmentalist models o f the
1970s and 80s to a new literature that emphasized the way in which the state was itself
historically constructed. The most influential historian o f the Ottoman state in a devel­
opmentalist mode is Halil inalcik, whose sweeping work on The Ottoman Empire: The
Classical Age, 1300-1600 remains a landmark in the field, inalcik depicted the state as
a set o f autonomous institutions that were intentionally generated, revelatory o f an ideo­
logical essence, and clearly divided between an imperial core and a provincial periph­
ery.18 This state also had a before and after, a ‘classical age’ defined by an expansionary
ethos heralded by campaigning Sultans and loyal servants who defended the realm and
produced systematic cadastral surveys o f incorporated regions. It further had a post-
Süleymanic era characterized by weak Sultans, rebellious officials, palace factions, and
a land regime in disarray, inalcik’s ‘classical age’ thus spawned a ‘middle child’ out of

14 Elias, The Civilizing Process.

15 P. Anderson, Lineages o f the Absolutist State (London 1974).
16 E. F. Rice and A. Grafton, The Foundations o f Early Modern Europe, 1460-1559 (New York
1994), 110.
17 Elias, The Civilizing Process, 236; J. Duindam, Myths o f Power: Norbert Elias and the Early
Modern European Court, (Amsterdam 1994). For an excellent comparative perspective, con­
sult J. Duindam, T. Artan and M. Kunt (eds.), Royal Courts in Dynastic States and Empires:
A Global Perspective (Leiden 2011); and S. Subrahmanyam, Courtly Encounters Translating
Courtliness and Violence in Early Modern Eurasia (Cambridge 2012).
18 H. Inalcik, The Ottoman Empire: The Classical Age, 1300-1600 (New York 1973). The anal­
ysis which follows is indebted to G. Piterberg’s historiographical review in Chapter Seven -
‘The Early Modem Ottoman State: History and Theory’ of his An Ottoman Tragedy, 135-162.
24 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.19 This ‘middle child’ in turn produced histo­
riographical assumptions o f imperial decline, when the Empire presumably no longer
exhibited the ‘classical’ coherence o f the early state, but also was not yet a part o f the
nineteenth-century generation o f reforms that re-defined its management o f human and
material resources. These historiographical assumptions ignored the rather inconvenient
truth that authors such as Kâtip Çelebi had themselves reified the state and generated
this vision o f corruption from an ideal. Ironically, then, a nostalgia o f both Ottomans and
Ottomanists alike for a coherent, idealized state haunts the work even o f those scholars
intent on eschewing developmentalist models.
Alternative periodization schemas and approaches to imperial processes o f man­
agement and control now provide new baselines for the “early modem muddle”. Halil
Inalcik him self quickly became uncomfortable with the declensionist assumptions inher­
ent in ‘classical age’ treatments. His research on the fiscal and military transformations
o f the seventeenth century reinforced mono-causal explanations o f the price revolution,
yet also emphasized the ‘naturalness’ o f the crisis and the innovative efforts to link tech­
nological and administrative reforms.20 Jane Hathaway, in an article that pointedly set a
new agenda for seventeenth and eighteenth-century Ottoman studies, also highlighted
the ways in which Inalcik’s research quite early drew attention to Süleyman’s rule as a
golden age constructed in retrospect.21 Laws dedicated to Siileyman had actually been
part o f his predecessor’s campaigns o f legal codification, and political factions in the
court had already acquired enough power in the sixteenth century to secure the execution
o f the popular Crown Prince Mustafa.22 Leslie Peirce demonstrated that these palace fac­
tions emerged when dynastic reproduction strategies shifted from fratricide to seniority
owing to exigent circumstances o f youthful princes in the late sixteenth century. This
move toward seniority also accompanied the transfer o f female quarters to the internal
domain o f the Topkapi Palace. The elaborate hierarchical structures, accumulation o f
wealth, and dispersion o f power achieved from within these quarters together yielded a
new set o f parameters for advisorial influence. Therefore, when a succession o f young
Sultans threatened the realm ’s stability at the turn o f the seventeenth century, these com-

19 “Middle child” is Piterberg’s term for this persisting method of periodization: An Ottoman
Tragedy, 147.
20 H. Inalcik, ‘Military and Fiscal Transformation in the Ottoman Empire, 1600-1700’, ArchOtt,
6(1980), 283-337.
21 J. Hathaway, ‘Problems of Periodization in Ottoman History’, 25-31. For other key efforts to
re-set Ottoman historiographical agendas, see H. Islamoglu and Ç. Keyder, ‘Agenda for Otto­
man History’, Review, 1 (1977), 31-55, and L. Peirce, ‘Changing Perceptions of the Ottoman
Empire: The Early Centuries’, Mediterranean Historical Review, 19 (2004), 6-28.
22 inalcik addresses these dynamics in a series of works; H. inalcik, ‘Suleiman the Lawgiver and
Ottoman Law’, ArchOtt, 1 (1969), 105-138; idem, ‘State, sovereignty and law during the reign
of Süleymân the Second and his time’, in H. inalcik and C. Kafadar (eds), Süleymân the Second
and His Time (Istanbul 1993), 229-248, and idem, ‘On the Social Structure of the Ottoman
Empire, Paradigms and Research’, in idem, From Empire to Republic, Essays on Ottoman and
Turkish Social History (Istanbul 1995), 17-60.
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 25

bined spatial and political factors shaped successive reigns.23 Peirce thus challenged dis­
criminatory aspersions against the rising power o f women, acting as wives, concubines,
and mothers o f Sultans, by both Ottomans and Ottomanists alike, and also undermined a
scholarly norm that equated Ottoman strength with a decisive sultanic decision-maker.24
Hathaway also noted that priorities necessarily shift when expansion was no longer
the primary mechanism for the dispersal o f wealth and duties. While the Ottoman realm
“continued to expand for some time [after Stileyman’s reign], yet a sprawling world
empire could be expected to have different priorities from those o f a gazi state” .25 Baki
Tezcan and Guy Burak both published monographs that argued for a second period of
formation in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. This second formation
generated new bureaucratic and jurisprudential orthodoxies capable o f shaping the re­
sponsibilities o f a mature state. Perhaps the most striking attempts to re-think the ‘middle
years’ therefore attend to the dynamics o f this transition, and to the enumeration of al­
ternating state priorities. Initially, this meant exploring the vagaries o f decision-making
practices within the Imperial Council {Divan).26 However, this trend still characterized
the state as an autonomous actor, with identifiable intentions that were enacted on the
inhabitants o f the realm. Efforts to manage intermediaries and create legible adminis­
trative structures for the incorporation o f conquered territories were thus explained as
unidirectional: the state ‘acting upon’ the provinces. Three trends emerged to counter
this rigid distinction between state and society: regional studies that highlighted diversity
and contestation; analyses o f the ‘center’ that attended to the, often distressed, claims to
legitimacy and authority by the Ottoman regime as a whole,27 and models for interdepen­
dencies that fitted established courts, imperial representatives, provincial elites, and ideo­
logical productions into a composite and evolving mechanism that secured state stability.
Regional case studies offset state-centric biases, deployed alternative archival re­
cords such as those from local sharia courts, and emphasized the particular over the

23 L. Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire (New York
1993), 81-97.
24 See also Hathaway, ‘Problems of Periodization’, 40.
25 Ibid., 27.
26 C. E. Farah, Decision Making and Change in the Ottoman Empire (Kirksville 1993).
27 Significant edited collections include H. T. Karateke and M. Reinkowski, (eds), Legitimizing
the Order: The Ottoman Rhetoric o f State Power (Leiden 2005); B. Tezcan, K. K. Barbir, and
N. Itzkowitz, (eds), Identity and Identity Formation in the Ottoman World: A Volume o f Essays
in Honor o f Norman Itzkowitz (Madison 2007). For other key examples or significant chapters
within these collections, see: S. Faroqhi, ‘Political Activity among Ottoman Taxpayers and the
Problem of Sultanic Legitimation (1570-1650)’, JESHO, 35 (1992), 1-39; B. Tezcan, ‘The De­
finition of Sultanic Legitimacy in the Sixteenth Century Ottoman Empire: The Ahlâk-i Aid ’l of
Kmahzâde Ali Çelebi (1510-1572)’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Princeton University, 1996; G.
Hagen, ‘Legitimacy and World Order’, in H. T. Karateke and M. Reinkowski (eds.), Legitimiz­
ing the Order: The Ottoman Rhetoric o f State Power (Leiden 2005), 55-83; O. Todorova, ‘The
Ottoman State and Its Orthodox Christian Subjects: The Legitimistic Discourse in the Seven­
teenth-Century ‘Chronicle of Serres’ in aNew Perspective’, THR, 1 (2010), 86-110.
26 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

imperial.28 Authors o f the particular pointed to the myopia o f state-generated documents

and their inability to reveal ‘facts on the ground’ in daily provincial lives. Together,
they argued that the Sultan and the imperial apparatus may have punctuated provin­
cial life through processes o f revenue-extraction and defense, but often resembled more
o f a shadow than a spotlight o f authority. These concerns in turn swayed scholars of
the ‘center’ away from the decision-making processes o f the Sultan or o f his council,
and toward the tenuous nature o f imperial control. In the early to mid-1990s, Huricihan
islamoglu, Linda Darling, and Karen Barkey each contributed powerful reconfigurations
o f the relationship between the Ottoman state and the regions it governed during the Em­
pire’s middle years.29 They moved beyond solely materialist explanations o f state power,
and, to varying degrees, argued instead for an interdependent nexus between ideology,
revenue extraction, and state stability. Each referenced the ‘circle o f equity’ as the ideo­
logical ground o f the Ottoman state, and linked sultanic power to the dynast’s position
as the arbiter o f justice and protector o f the tax-paying subjects. islamoglu and Barkey
drew attention to the way in which the state capably crafted a hegemonic discourse of
interdependency and redistribution o f resources that agriculturalists and regional elite
alike invoked as their medium for dissent. As a result, according to their presentation of
Ottoman state dynamics, rebellious actions did not seek to disrupt the ideological claims
or legitimacy o f the state, but rather the means to influence its proportional dispersal o f
gifts, rewards, and resources. “The viability o f the Ottoman state”, as Tosun Ancanli and
Mara Thomas suggested in the clearest articulation o f this trend, “was due to the conver­
gence o f the interests o f the participants o f the distributive game at a locus demarcated
by the state. There was a common interest in participating in the redistributive process as
opposed to being excluded from it. Rebellions developed on arguments over shares and
not principles.”30 A “shares not principles” approach, however, focuses analysis on the
scrabble for resources and leaves unattended the principle that purportedly gives shape to
the game as a whole. This tendency may be observed in the early work o f Linda Darling,
who traces in intricate detail transformations in financial accounting and revenue-raising

28 Dina Khoury’s analysis of Ottoman Mosul remains one of the strongest examples of this trend:
D. Khoury, State and Provincial Society in the Ottoman Empire: Mosul, 1540-1834 (Cam­
bridge 1997). For other representative studies, see A. Singer, Palestinian Peasants and Otto­
man Officials: Rural Administration around Sixteenth-Century Jerusalem (Cambridge 1994);
D. Ze’evi, An Ottoman Century: The District o f Jerusalem in the 1600s (Albany 1996); and C.
L. Wilkins, Forging Urban Solidarities Ottoman Aleppo 1640-1700 (Leiden 2010).
29 H. islamoglu, State and Peasant in the Ottoman Empire: Agrarian Power Relations and Re­
gional Economic Development in Ottoman Anatolia During the Sixteenth Century (Leiden
1994); K. Barkey, Bandits and Bureaucrats: The Ottoman Route to State Centralization (Ithaca
1994); L. Darling, Revenue-Raising and Legitimacy: Tax Collection and Finance Administra­
tion in the Ottoman Empire, 1560-1660 (Leiden 1996).
30 T. Ancanli and M. Thomas ‘Sidestepping Capitalism: On the Ottoman Road to Elsewhere’,
The Journal o f Historical Sociology, 7 (1994), 39. See Bogac Ergene’s rebuttal of this ap­
proach, also referenced below, for a more in-depth assessment of this historiographical trend
in B. Ergene, ‘On Ottoman Justice: Interpretations in Conflict (1600-1800)’, Islamic Law and
Society, 8 (2001), 70-71.
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 27

practices o f the Ottoman state, yet places these against an assumed ideological backdrop
o f justice, provisionalism, and protection o f the weak.31
Even as regional and revisionist studies o f the Ottoman state challenged easy divi­
sions between state and society, or center and province, these binaries were still invoked,
and remained the implicit scaffolding upon which the analyses depended. Moreover,
ideology was itself deployed as a static indicator o f state legitimacy rather than as a spe­
cific production with its own historical genealogy. Barkey, for example, proposed: “in the
Ottoman Empire, legitimacy was based on the notion o f a normative order that produces
concrete and reproducible relations between the ruler and his subjects” .32 Legitimacy
generated a sense o f belonging, and “was imagined and maintained by the Ottomans”
through a particular conceptual rubric o f a well-ordered realm (nizam-i âlem) and repro­
duced through a reciprocal vision o f justice. She characterized this normative order as a
“compact” and a “foundational component o f rule” deployed by “the sultans who con­
solidated the empire” who also “fashioned an explicit content to the normative order”.33
This static vision o f a normative order with the Sultan as the ultimate architect con­
trasts with Barkey’s overarching goal o f explaining Ottoman state longevity. She linked
longevity to flexibility, defined in the introduction as “not getting locked into enduring
forms, being able to change according to circumstances, and maintaining a certain de­
gree o f elasticity o f structure”.34 However, she assumed the existence o f an “ideological/
cultural form o f legitimation” and then assessed efforts to manage cultural diversity and
appropriate resources against the backdrop o f this normative order. As a result, Barkey
subordinated processes to structures and thus re-inserted an analytic divide between state
and society, and collapsed ideology and legitimacy into one thing.35
In the past two decades, the field has shifted away from reductive analyses o f the Ot­
toman state as a ‘thing in itself’ and toward the textual projects that produced and reified
its history. R ifa'at Abou-El-Haj issued a clarion cry for revisionist narratives and casti­
gated twentieth-century scholarship on the Ottoman Empire for treating the ‘state’ “as if,
regardless o f the passage o f time, the state had remained essentially the same” before the
heyday o f publishing in Ottoman studies had even fully materialized.36 Gabi Piterberg,
in perhaps the m ost radical response to this cry, proposed that the ‘state’ itself “is a con­

31 Both Barkey and Darling dedicated future projects to re-working relationships between state
projects and subject populations. Barkey placed the state management of difference at the heart
of imperial projects, and Darling turned precisely toward the ‘ideological backdrop’ in a mas­
terly historical genealogy of the circle of equity: K. Barkey, Empire o f Difference: The Otto­
mans in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge 2008); L. T. Darling, A History o f Social Justice
and Political Power in the Middle East: The Circle o f Justice From Mesopotamia to Global­
ization (New York 2013).
32 Barkey, Empire o f Difference, 100-101.
33 Ibid., 101, passim.
34 Ibid., 14.
35 Ibid.
36 R. A. Abou-El-Haj, Formation o f the Modern State: The Ottoman Empire, Sixteenth to Eigh­
teenth Centuries (Syracuse 2005), 11—18.
28 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

structed reification” .37 In more subtle forms, scholars who turned once again to questions
o f legitimacy propelled the field further away from normative and static treatments o f the
‘state’, and also proposed the most fruitful alternatives to oppositional frameworks of
state! society and center/periphery. Hakan Karateke summarized the import o f these stud­
ies in his contribution to a significant collection of essays on ‘state’ legitimacy: “Legiti­
macy is a mutual relation” between a governing body that asserts claims to rightful rule
and a subject population that confers authority by virtue o f their submission.38 While he
too relied on the presence o f an Ottoman “normative legitimacy”, Karateke’s move from
ideology to legitimacy also precipitated one from structure to practice. Legitimacy’s
‘reach’ through literary productions, ceremonies, public works, monument building, and
welfare projects took center stage in his analysis. These activities constituted a “factual
legitimacy”, according to Karateke, that reinforced a “normative legitimacy” constructed
primarily by state elites. The two in tandem “habituated” both rulers and subjects to
a particular structure o f power.39 Karateke thus provided a partial answer to his own
question “was legitimacy in pre-modem society a kind o f luxury good” by suggesting
that perhaps the normative construct was, but the facts on the ground entailed a more
diverse and differentiated project.40 Gottfried Hagen’s essay on the trope o f world order
(nizam-i âlem) focused directly on the “luxury good”. He too identified legitimacy as a
“continuous negotiation between m ler and ruled”, but suggested that this process o f ne­
gotiation reaffirms a polarized construct o f state and society and belies the emergence of
“a discourse within the central power” concerning order and governance in the Ottoman
world.41 Hagen pivoted from legitimacy conceived as either structure or practice toward
legitimacy as a discourse, produced through the meaningful participation o f many actors
in both the Ottoman chancery and scholarly debates o f the period. “World order”, in his
telling, is neither “realistic” nor “idealistic”, but rather a historically contingent project
o f the intellectual elite. This elite silenced the subject population and deprived them o f
agency even as they themselves challenged the authority o f the ruler. While Hagen traced
the historically contingent nature o f a legitimating discourse, and emphasized the desper­
ate need for attentive analyses o f intellectual developments in the Ottoman context, he
also foregrounded a new chasm: between intellectual and administrative venues. Hagen’s
analysis concluded where Karateke’s began, in a presumed divide between elite concep­
tual discourse and administrative practice.
Bogaç Ergene’s incisive critique o f a static vision o f “normative order” provides a
possible bridge across this divide. A regional specialist himself, he combined insights

37 Piterberg, An Ottoman Tragedy, 161.

38 H. T. Karateke, ‘Legitimizing the Ottoman Sultanate’ in H. T. Karateke and M. Reinkowski,
Legitimizing the Order: The Ottoman Rhetoric o f State Power (Leiden 2005), 15.
39 Ibid., 16, 18 and 34. Karateke also draws upon two works of Rodney Barker in order to build
his theory of legitimacy as a mutual relationship: R. Barker, Political Legitimacy and the State
(Oxford 1990); idem, Legitimating Identities: The Self-Presentations o f Rulers and Subjects
(Cambridge 2001).
40 Karateke and Reinkowski, Legitimizing the Order, 4.
41 Hagen,‘Legitimacy and World Order’, 55-57.
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 29

born out o f provincial research with a robust theoretical assessment o f how the ideologi­
cal principle o f justice was neither unitary nor stable.42 Like Hagen, he represented Otto­
man ‘state’ order as a contentious ideological field. However, drawing simultaneously on
the imperial divan-issued rescripts o f justice (adaletname) and on treatises produced by
statesmen and littérateurs, Ergene argued that administrative practice was precisely the
domain o f ideology creation. The “Ottoman ‘official’ ideology” in Ergene’s alternative
reading, was “specifically associated with the realm o f revenue raising” and thus with the
personal benevolence o f the ruler.43 Ergene depicted the protective relationship between
the Sultan and the agriculturalists as one premised on a discursive “misrecognition” that
transformed a material aim o f revenue extraction into the symbolic capital o f a just sov­
ereign equitably redistributing resources. He thus drew from subaltern theorists attentive
to ‘cracks’ in hegemonic constructs o f authority and Pierre Bourdieu’s conviction that
economic capital is converted into symbolic capital by a deceptive artistry. In this guise,
both the dominant agent (ruler) and the coerced subject “misrecognize” violence for
munificence.44 This misrecognition shapes both imperial edicts and subjects’ petitions
for redress, and evinces not false consciousness, but rather the generative process that
produces (and reproduces) an imperial system.
However, Ergene insisted that an “uncritical appropriation o f this “official” definition
o f justice”, and thus o f imperial order, predicated on revenue extraction, reproduces a
state-generated hegemonic discourse in Ottomanist historiography. This statist approach
then leads to the “loss o f voices o f those ‘dissidents’ who did not necessarily conform to
the official definition o f justice”.45 Ergene shifted attention instead toward armed rebels
or scribal critics o f absolutism who rebuked the sultanate for abandoning its obligations
within a reciprocal administrative order o f loyalty and reward. In this framework, justice
served to mark “the proper order and stratification o f society” and thus to perpetuate clear
divisions between imperial servants, agriculturalists, and merchants.46 Yet, it is important
to note that these two forms o f justice, and thus o f ideology production, are not so easily
distinguished from each other. Ergene’s examples o f “dissident voices” included regional
power-brokers, courtiers, and bureaucrats such as Kalenderoglu Mehmed, Evliya Çelebi,
and Mustafa Ali, who each played a role in re-shaping both administrative strategies
and ideological constructs.47 While Kalenderoglu Mehmed was a famous rebel com­
mander who orchestrated many victorious campaigns between 1592 and 1610 against
Ottoman forces during the so-called Celali rebellions, he had also been co-opted into

42 B. Ergene, Local Court, Provincial Society, and Justice in the Ottoman Empire: Legal Practice
and Dispute Resolution in Çankiri and Kastamonu (1652-1744) (Leiden 2003).
43 Ergene, ‘On Ottoman Justice’, 64.
44 Ibid., 69.
45 Ibid., 70.
46 Ibid., 75.
47 For references and book-length studies on each of the men referenced by Ergene, consult: R.
Dankoff, An Ottoman Mentality: The World o f Evliya Çelebi (Leiden 2006), and C. H. Fleisch­
er, Bureaucrat and Intellectual in the Ottoman Empire: The Historian Mustafa Ali (1541-1600)
(Princeton 1986).
30 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

positions o f regional governorship and repeatedly crossed the threshold between loyal
servant and armed dissident.48 This threshold mobility re-affirmed the basic outlines of
.state-servant obligations and placed a battle over resources at the ‘center’ o f imperial
affairs. Likewise, both Evliya Çelebi and Mustafa Ali were directly connected to the im­
perial court, the former through lowly scribal positions and shifting patrons with whom
he journeyed on military and diplomatic campaigns, and the latter as a significant bu­
reaucrat within the imperial chancery. Evliya Çelebi’s voluminous compendium o f travel
narratives inscribed regional affairs into moral and social hierarchies generated from
within an Istanbul-centric vision o f imperial order.49 As for Mustafa Ali, he served as an
establishment bureaucrat, yet simultaneously censured the abuse o f power by particular
dynasts and wrote what is commonly believed to be the first nasihatname that adopted a
newly critical mode.50 Each o f these men actively produced a threshold between state-
centric principles o f hierarchical order and potential challenges to its reproduction. This
threshold moment should provoke an analytical response, as it potentially steers focus
away from justice as an inherent or static principle and toward the tactics by which that
principle was produced and affirmed as the natural order o f the state.

Debating Historical Praxis:

Ottoman Dynastic Genealogies and Political Critique
“The natural order o f the state” should now read as a potential trompe l ’oeil, tricking the
eye o f both Ottoman and Ottomanist into perceiving a described detail as a ‘living’ object
with attributes and agency. However, image production was a key component o f early
modem composite courts, which pivoted around the scripts and ceremonials that gov­
erned protocol both inside the palace walls and the formulae o f administrative strategies
beyond. W hile these composite courts relied on patronage networks - carefully delin­
eated circuits o f obligation and reward so as to sustain and disperse establishment power
across large territorial domains —they were also dependent on the fashioning o f its mlers

48 W. J. Griswold, The Great Anatolian Rebellion (Berlin 1983; Bristol 1992 [2nd ed.]), 357.
Griswold’s work was long a standard for late sixteenth-century provincial upheaval, but inter­
ventions by Sam White and Oktay Ôzel have redefined the parameters of the period and set
new guidelines for future research attentive to intersections between administrative, environ­
mental, and demographic transformations. See, respectively, S. White, The Climate o f Rebel­
lion in the Early Modern Ottoman Empire (Cambridge 2011); and O. Ôzel, The Collapse of
Rural Order in Ottoman Anatolia: Amasya 1576-1643 (Leiden 2016).
49 An abridged version of the 10 volumes can be found in R. Dankoff and S. Kim (eds and trans.),
An Ottoman Traveller: Selections from the Book o f Travels o f Evliya Çelebi (London 2011).
See also Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi Beçir Aga 448-452 (Vols 1-10 and Pertev Paça 458-62
(Vols 1-10).
50 A. Tietze, Mustafa ‘A lt’s Counselfor Sultans o f 1581 (Vienna 1979). The arguments in the pag­
es which follow were originally formed from work on the manuscript copy of Mustafa Ali’s
Kiinhii’l-ahbar accessed at the Süleymaniye Library (Nuruosmaniye 3409), in addition to Jan
Schmidt’s edited copy, Mustafa ‘A lt’s Kilnhii ’l-Ahbar and Its Preface According to the Leiden
Manuscript (Leiden 1987).
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 31

as idealized embodiments o f absolute power. Thus a nexus consisting o f the intersection

between palatine courts, image-production, and administered imperial domain became
one o f the singular features o f courtly establishments reliant on co-opted intermediar­
ies yet intent on broadcasting universalist sovereign claims. Within the Ottoman con­
text, this nexus was partially realized in the emergence o f ‘scholar-bureaucrats’, whose
administrative duties and institutionalized status served as the crucible for their varied
intellectual productions.51 As some o f these scholar-bureaucrats fashioned a historical
narrative o f the dynasty, they also inscribed a set o f expectations for its proper rule.
Two strikingly opposed Ottoman literary elites cum establishment figures illustrate the
ways in which history, critique, and efforts to define the state coalesce. Seyyid Lokman’s
Quintessence o f Histories and Mustafa A li’s Essence o f History produced competing
narratives o f Ottoman ancestral paths and dynastic glory, yet both definitively positioned
history as the locus o f interpretive intervention into the nature o f state power.52
Both works were tied to broader institutional changes within the Ottoman court, to
the appointment o f court historians, §ehnamecis (or historiographers, a truer label for
their role as fashioners o f an imperial genealogy), and to the emergence o f a distinctly
‘Ottoman’ professional cadre and literary style. O f the five men who held the post of
çehnameci from approximately 1555 to 1605, Seyyid Lokman’s lengthy tenure in office,
from 1569 to 1596/1597 virtually defined both the position and the stakes involved in
definitions o f history and historical legacies at the Ottoman court. And Mustafa Ali (d.
1600), acclaimed litterateur and member o f a newly re-fashioned bureaucratic cadre,
typifies an intellectual and political world that was in part shaped by the increased at­
tentiveness within palace artisanal workshops to the language and depiction o f dynastic
history. The court historiographers produced a total o f fifteen works, including campaign
and court chronicles, general world histories, and specialized dynastic accounts. They
originally followed the Persian epic tradition established by Ferdowsi (d. 1025), who
conjoined early Persian and Islamicate histories into a new historical lineage for the Sa-
manid and Ghaznavid courts, but gradually transitioned into stylized Ottoman verse and
prose, and used historical narrative to shape a unique imperial courtly tradition.53 Argu­
ably then, just as scribal cohorts gradually transitioned from diverse regional and intel­

51 First foregrounded by Kafadar in Between Two Worlds, ‘scholar-bureaucrat’ has now become
commonplace in the field. See A. Atçil, Scholars and Sultans in the Early Modern Ottoman
Empire (Cambridge 2017).
52 Baki Tezcan juxtaposed these two scholar-bureaucrats in his prescient reading of the two texts:
B. Tezcan, ‘The Politics of Early Modem Ottoman Historiography’, in V. H. Aksan with D.
Goffman (eds), The Early Modern Ottomans: Remapping the Empire (Cambridge 2007), 167-
98. His summary provides a useful departure for the arguments presented concerning history
and political thought presented here.
53 However, a simple transition from Persian to Ottoman Turkish is no longer a tenable argument
concerning shifts in literary style during the early modem period. Instead, regional dialects,
mixed genres and vocabularies, and shifts in register indicate a wide diversity of forms and pat­
terns. For a summary of these trends see: C. Woodhead, ‘Ottoman Languages’, in C. Woodhead
(ed.), The Ottoman World (London and New York 2012) 143-158.
32 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

lectual backgrounds into a self-generating professional Ottoman bureaucracy, so too did

the language deployed as a marker o f status.54 The former prestige o f Arabo-Persianate
models was gradually eclipsed by the formalization o f court and courtly aesthetics that
culminated in the reign o f Süleyman (1520-1566). The sixteenth century, with its newly
configured Ottoman conquest of territories throughout Greater Syria, Egypt, Iraq, and the
Mediterranean, can also be viewed as a linguistic conquest. The emphasis on Ottoman, as
distinct from Turkic nomadic roots or rival imperial histories, marked a conscious effort
to fashion a unique textual representation o f the imperial establishment and o f the elite
culture it both depended on and consciously fostered.
The position o f the çehnameci was directly tied to this history o f territorial and lin­
guistic displacement, as his role was to ensure the supplanting o f past rivals with the
Ottoman present, and to disseminate the dynasty’s new claims to imperial universal-
ism.55 Cornell Fleischer argued that the çehnameci position, created around 1555, was
an “attempt by the dynasty to assert direct control o f the literary expression o f historical
ideology and imperial image”.56 But Baki Tezcan cautioned against this depiction, and
suggested instead that the Sultans did not fully control the competitive visions o f impe­
rial ideology or the historical image-production shaped by those appointed in this role.57
Further, as every court was remade anew upon the accession o f the next Sultan, the
establishment could not mask the variability inherent within the very structure o f the sul­
tanate itself.58 Thus, even in an effort to exert control over image production, tendencies
toward multiplicity and diversity abounded. This multiplicity is well represented in the
Quintessence and Essence, as Lokman reinforced the triumphant narrative and palace­

54 Woodhead, ‘Ottoman Languages’; T. Artan, ‘Questions of Ottoman Identity and Architectural

History’, in D. Arnold, E. A. Ergut, and B. T. Ozkaya (eds), Rethinking Architectural Histori­
ography (London 2006), 86-109.
55 For key texts that address the links between conquest, scribal cohorts, and courtly languages,
see H. E. Çipa, The Making o f Selim: Succession, Legitimacy, and Memory in the Early Mod­
ern Ottoman World (Bloomington 2017); K. Çahin, Empire and Power in the Reign o f Suley­
man: Narrating the Sixteenth-Century Ottoman World {New York 2013); and J. Shinder, ‘Early
Ottoman Administration in the Wilderness: Some Limits on Comparison’, IJMES, 9 (1978),
497-517.
56 C. H. Fleischer, ‘The Lawgiver as Messiah: The Making of the Imperial Image in the Reign of
Süleyman’, in G. Veinstein (ed.), Soliman Le Magnifique et Son Temps, Actes Du Colloque de
Paris (Paris 1992), 172.
57 The classic treatments of the çehnameci can be found in C. Woodhead, ‘An Experiment in Of­
ficial Historiography: The Post of Çehnâmeci in the Ottoman Empire, c. 1555-1605’, WZKM,
75 (1983), 157-182; E. Fetvaci, ‘Office of the Ottoman Court Historian’, in R. G. Ousterhout
(ed.), Studies on Istanbul and Beyond (Philadelphia 2007), 7-21.
58 Selim II (r. 1566-74) exemplifies this ‘remaking’ process in the breach, as the strained conditi­
ons of the treasury meant that he was barely capable of paying the necessary donatives to en­
sure loyalty amongst his own attendants, much less the military corps who were dependent on
these ‘gifts’ to replenish their salaries or their stalled revenue extraction from land grants. Ho­
wever, for one of the best examples of scholarship devoted to the Ottoman dynast’s immense
efforts to first achieve the sultanate and then sustain his authority, consult E. Çipa, The Making
o f Selim: Succession.
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 33

centric goals o f his later patron, Murad III (r. 1574-1595), and Mustafa Ali continued
his protracted critique o f profligate power and the misalignment o f order within the late
sixteenth-century dynastic court. Tezcan, him self dedicated to a critique o f the label ‘ab­
solutist’ for the early modern Ottoman establishment, argues instead for a gradual deper­
sonalization o f rule and expansion o f elite influence.59 Ironically, in Tezcan’s treatment,
the Ottoman state, while failing to control sixteenth and seventeenth-century image pro­
ductions, widely succeeded in doing so during the eighteenth, where a near monopoly of
voices was achieved.60 He therefore suggests that impersonal rule lends itself to hege­
monic power, rather than undermining it, a point historians o f the modern state might do
well to contemplate.61 The official position o f the court historiographer was short-lived,
phased out by the beginning o f the seventeenth century. Yet the remaining sections o f this
essay suggest that the courtly status o f history that the post initially enshrined, and the
role that historical vision played as a dynamic forum for bids to power and grandeur in a
competitive early modem political environment did indeed endure, as did the Empire its
practitioners sought to see triumph even when later adopting a critical mode.
Lokman’s Quintessence o f Histories (Z übdetü’t-tevarih) is actually a ‘copy’ o f sorts:
three codices produced from a scroll, the Tomar-i hiimayun (the Imperial Scroll) com­
pleted during the reign o f Siileyman.62 The codices were probably not finalized until
the 1580s, under the tutelage o f the court historiographer Seyyid Lokman along with
calligraphers and painters during Murad I ll’s (1574-95) tenure. The most dramatic dif­
ference between scroll and codex inheres in the visual imagery: the Lokman workshop
turned illustrated Q ur’anic quotations into scenes from the lives o f prophets and early
Muslim companions, and included portraiture for the corpus o f Ottoman Sultans.63 The
scroll and the codices position Osman’s dynastic house within a genealogical history that
begins with a cosmological chart o f the w orld’s origins, and then sketches parallel con­
nections o f prophets and kings in ancient Persian and pre-Islamic dynasties emanating
out from the first humans, Adam and Eve. This remains a highly selective genealogy,

59 Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire; idem, ‘Lost in Historiography: An Essay on the Reasons
for the Absence of a History of Limited Government in the Early Modem Ottoman Empire’,
Middle Eastern Studies, 45 (2009), 477-505.
60 This is ironic, as historians of the Empire tend to equate the eighteenth century with the rise
of provincial notables and with the escalating influence of ‘Western’ imperialist intervention,
and hence with the collapse of centralized state authority. Classic examples of this approach
can be found in: A. Hourani, ‘Ottoman Reform and the Politics of Notables’, in W. R. Polk and
R. L. Chambers (eds), Beginnings o f Modernization in the Middle East: The Nineteenth Cen­
tury (Chicago 1981), 36-66; E. R. Toledano, ‘The Emergence of Ottoman-Local Elites (1700-
1900): A Framework for Research’, in I. Pappé and M. Maoz (eds), Middle Eastern Politics
and Ideas: A History from Within (London 1997), 145-162. Only recently has this vision been
revised, to reflect the ‘partnerships’ that all but defined Ottoman rule: A. Yaycioglu, Partners
o f the Empire: The Crisis o f the Ottoman Order in the Age o f Revolutions (Stanford 2016).
61 Tezcan, ‘Ottoman Historiography’, 169.
62 E. Fetvaci, ‘From Print to Trace: An Ottoman Imperial Portrait Book and its Western European
Models’, The Art Bulletin, 95 (2013), 243-268.
63 W. G. Andrews, Poetry s Voice, Society s Song: Ottoman Lyric Poetry (Seattle 1985).
34 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

however, as only Muhammad and the first four successors receive detailed enumeration,
and even the early Ottoman rulers up until Mehmed II were merely listed, rather than
fully described. M ehmed II alone punctuates this summary treatment with the title “emir
o f emirs, khan o f khans, and qaysar o f Rum”, but not until Siileyman does any copious
detail re-emerge. Although this genealogical map places the Ottomans within diverse lin­
eages, and uniquely also traces the chains o f transmission (silsiles) o f religious scholars
and Sufis, with the arrival o f the Ottoman dynasty, all contemporary rivals disappear. The
scroll introduces Suleyman’s reign with an adapted Q ur’anic quotation from 3:110: “O f
all the communities raised among men you are the best, enjoining the good, forbidding
the wrong”.64 Tezcan suggested that the scroll and the Quintessence created a monumen­
tal world in which Siileyman’s exploits paralleled G od’s creation o f the universe. As the
preambles o f both scroll and codices explain: “G od’s creation o f the heavens and earth
starts the text, and Siileyman’s conquests were to end it”.65 The suggestion that the Otto­
man dynasty possessed no parallels (imagistic or textual) reinforced Lokman’s presenta­
tion o f Osman’s genealogy as a “final world order”.66 All hierarchy was now subsumed
within the auspices o f sultanic grandeur, and Siileyman’s actions set the parameters of
just and proper governance.
M ustafa A li’s the Essence o f History (K ünhü’l-ahbar), stands in stark contrast to
Lokman’s projection o f the Ottoman state. M ustafa Ali fiercely criticized Lokman and
disparaged his literary abilities, but the conflict between them was as much ideological
as it was stylistic: Lokman confabulated the Ottomans as the end o f history, while Ali
forewarned o f the Empire’s end. Left incomplete when he died in 1600, it joins a corpus
o f his works (Council fo r the Sultans and Seasons o f Sovereignty) that together embodied
a rising discontent among elite scholars with sultanic rule. Mustafa Ali devotes the pref­
ace o f the Essence, unlike the entire text o f the Quintessence, to a more comprehensive
account o f previous Muslim dynastic courts and their legacies, including the Safavids
o f Persia, Mughals o f India, and the Uzbeks o f Central Asia. In fact, A li’s Seasons was
almost entirely devoted to past dynasties that had once triumphantly ruled, but had now
disappeared without a trace. Fleischer adroitly reads the significance o f this choice: “the
moral o f this arrangement o f material is clear: the Ottoman state, placed in a compara­
tive historical context, was subject to the same historical cycles as other states, and could
fall apart as quickly as it had risen”.67 Jan Schmidt, however, cautions against a strong
reading o f Mustafa A li’s comparativism and provides a reminder that the intersection
between narrative devices and political agendas must be analyzed, not assumed.68 Easy

64 B. Tezcan, ‘Ottoman Historical Writing’, in J. Rabasa, M. Sato, E. Tortarolo, and D. Woolf

(eds), The Oxford History o f Historical Writing, Vol. 3 (Oxford 2015), 192-211.
65 Ibid., 208.
66 Ibid., 174.
67 Quote from C. H. Fleischer, Bureaucrat and Intellectual in the Ottoman Empire: The Historian
Mustafa Âli (1541-1600) (Princeton 1986), 178. Cited by Tezcan, 177.
68 J. Schmidt, Pure Water for Thirsty Muslims: A Study o f Mustafa ‘Â lï o f Gallipoli’s Kiinhii
l-Ahbâr (Leiden 1991). Thanks go to the anonymous reviewer for bringing this point to my at­
tention.
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 35

renderings o f the relation between the two can, as Christine Woodhead has argued, lead
scholars astray, particularly with regard to the rather mysteriously short-lived yet criti­
cal post o f the çehnameci,69 Hence, Woodhead’s careful consideration of the import and
potential impact o f the §ehnameci as an institution leads toward a broader assessment o f
the meaning o f history as an Ottoman courtly practice. On the one hand she notes that
çehname manuscripts functioned in part “to establish an acceptably ‘correct’ Ottoman
historical record”.70 Yet Woodhead also suggests a rather limited, palace-centric audience
for this stylized image and emphasizes that these commissioned histories acted more as
objets d ’art than propagandistic pamphlets. As “literary-historical texts which seem to be
neither one thing nor the other and not to lead anywhere”, these works confound simplis­
tic interpretations.71 They also, however, lead directly toward the discursive possibilities
outlined above, wherein the textual and the political are o f a piece, rather than distinct
fields acting upon each other. In this case, the ‘audience’ is perhaps less important than
the ‘act’ of production itself, along with the forms and structures adopted so as to show­
case the Ottoman rulers in a period o f pronounced military achievement and diplomatic
success.
It is possible to clarify this observation by returning to the juxtaposition o f Lokman
and Mustafa Ali. These two texts embody overlapping interpretive conflicts for the Otto-
manist: how to assess the relationship between elite literary productions and the sultanate
as the ultimate patron, and how to understand what role ‘history’ played in these stylized
itineraries o f dynastic power. With regard to patronage, it is perhaps sufficient here to
think briefly o f commensurate courtly practices across Eurasia, wherein the position o f a
royal historiographer, the production and collection o f embellished and illustrated manu­
scripts, and the link between stylized verse and dynastic myth had become part o f a shared
vocabulary o f sovereignty by the seventeenth century.72 As for the meaning o f history
within these literary productions, Lokman and the gehname genre more generally em­
bodies a performative mode while Mustafa Ali writes from within an evaluative posture.
Lokman thus adopts the panegyric and performs Ottoman exceptionalism, while Mustafa
Ali invokes a form o f imperial comparativism that ultimately lends itself to a more criti­
cal stance even if he too seeks to sustain a vision o f Ottoman greatness. Thus, although
Lokman’s text drew on the comparative tactics o f historians such as Ibn Khaldun, he re­
mained wedded to an internal genealogy o f power, and therefore to the reproduction o f a

69 C. Woodhead, “Reading Ottoman ‘Çehnames’: Official Historiography in the Late Sixteenth

Century’, SI, 104 (2007), 67-80.
70 Ibid., 68.
71 Ibid.
72 Woodhead draws attention to comparative practices as well. See especially pages 76-78. For
broader discussions of commensurate courtly practices attentive to language, see the introduc­
tion to R F. Bang and D. Kolodziejczyk (eds), Universal Empire: A Comparative Approach to
Imperial Culture and Representation in Eurasian History (Cambridge 2012); and J. S. A. Ad­
amson (ed.), The Princely Courts o f Europe: Ritual, Politics and Culture under the Ancien Ré­
gime, 1500-1750 (London 1999).
36 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

distinctive Ottoman imperial glory.73 Lokman’s selective use o f comparative indices sets
him apart from Ibn Khaldun’s critical historical agenda, one that gradually seeped into the
conscious labors o f Ottoman scholar-bureaucrats.74 In his Muqaddima, or prolegomena
to a new historical vision, Ibn Khaldun criticized the absence o f evaluative labor in most
practitioners o f ‘history’ (tarikh): “Other historians, then, came with too brief a presenta­
tion (of history). They went to the extreme o f being satisfied with the names o f kings,
without any genealogical or historical information, and with only a numerical indication
o f the length o f their reigns.”75 Evinced here is the indictment o f a narrow vision o f the
historical craft, framed within the Ottoman context as tahrir ü tasnif. ‘tahrir ’ indicating
the simple act o f recording, based on what one has witnessed, or based on reports (akh-
bar) either heard o f or read, and ‘ta sn if’designating the classifying and ordering o f things
both past and present.76 Neither, however, draws on a particular philosophy or rationale
through which names, dates, and reported speech or acts might be organized. True, tarikh
inherently called for an organizational practice, and thus for a textualized vision o f order,
but Ibn Khaldun aspired to something more than either chronological ordering or the
mere classification o f reported speech or events. He insisted that the true craft o f his­
tory moved beyond “parroted” or obsequious speech, and toward a comparative analysis
that weighed principles o f human and cultural behavior along with reported action. Only
through history as a methodical disciplinary practice, according to Ibn Khaldun, might
we avoid “stumbling and slipping”. He indicts those who “trust historical information
in its plain transmitted form” and those who have “no clear knowledge o f the principles
resulting from custom, the fundamental facts o f politics, the nature o f civilization, or the
conditions governing human social organization”.77 History-writing, in this mode, entails
historiographical thinking - an intervention into the density o f the past and the politics
o f the present. It was arguably this interpretive intervention via historical writing that
Mustafa Ali and other reform-minded scholar-bureaucrats o f the long sixteenth century
adopted as a means to assess the nature o f the Ottoman state in an era o f perceived crisis,
to then locate this crisis within a disordered conceptual and political realm, and finally to
seek a restorative mechanism so as to affirm Ottoman longevity.78

73 Ibn Khaldun played an influential role in the formation of an Ottoman critical mode. Here I am
attentive not to his vision of cyclical history, but rather to his emphasis on historical praxis it­
self.
74 As previously referenced, Fleischer traced this influence in ‘Royal Authority, Dynastic Cy-
clism, and ‘Ibn Khaldûnism’ in Sixteenth-Century Ottoman Letters’.
75 Ibn Khaldun, The Muqaddimah; An Introduction to History, ed. F. Rosenthal (New York 1958),
7.
76 See also S. Buzov’s ‘History’ in J. J. Elias, Key Themes for the Study o f Islam (London 2014),
182-199.
77 Ibn Khaldun, The Muqaddimah, 11.
78 Gottfried Hagen and Ethan L. Menchinger propose that “a full-fledged philosophy of history
as a distinct field of inquiry has never developed in Ottoman letters”. Rather, they clarity, Otto­
mans worked within the “pragmatics of historiography” and despite a “highly variegated body
of historical writing”, produced “remarkably homogenous” works. See ‘Ottoman Historical
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 37

Thus, within the works o f those such as Mustafa Ali and later Kâtip Çelebi (d. 1657),
this notion o f interpretive and interventative ordering, as among the duties incumbent
upon the writer o f history, came increasingly to represent a critical assessment o f Otto­
man sovereignty set against a standard o f proper order and justice. This model o f order
and justice, cumulatively defined by the varied branches o f jurisprudence, philosophy,
and theology, together shaped an ideology o f just government deployed increasingly as
a new historical criticism.79 Idris-i Bitlisî, in an oft-cited formula, evoked this notion
during a period when he him self was co-opted into an emergent Ottoman bureaucracy.
In his Qanûn-i shehinshâhî he draws on an aphorism in Arabic: ‘The justice is in placing
everything in its proper place’.80 Here it is worth noting that Bitlisî’s explicit linking of
justice and proper order arose from within a particularly volatile competitive terrain. As
the Osman confederacy sought to eclipse disparate trans-regional Eurasian rivals and
formalize its own nascent institutions, scribal personages and traditions became a kind
o f battleground on which new sovereign claims took distinct textual form. Bitlisî serves
as a harbinger for a new politics o f the text, in which mechanisms for ordering and orga­
nizing imperial affairs produced in the chancery contained within them both a concep­
tual mapping o f power and a mechanism for administrative practice. Rescripts o f justice
(,adaletname), legal protocols (kanunname), and registers o f sultanic edicts (miihimme
defter 1eri) dispersed this combined map and mechanism, a form o f ‘textual habitus’,
across Ottoman domains and beyond.81 These textual forms are components o f an active
imperial archive, a textual repository that guided the dynastic establishment, Ottoman

Thought’, in Pr. Duara, V. Murthy, and A. Sartori (eds), A Companion to Global Historical
Thought (West Sussex 2014), 92-106. Quoted passages can be found on page 93. Here I aim to
identify the ‘uses’ of history as a potential political mode and leave aside the question of his­
tory as a theoretical or philosophical quest.
79 For general surveys of these varied intellectual strands and their lineages, see G. Cooper, ‘Med­
icine and the Political Body: A Metaphor at the Crossroads of Four Civilizations’, unpub­
lished paper delivered at the Healing Arts across the Mediterranean: Communities, Knowledge
and Practices Symposium, Rutgers University, 2014; D. Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Cul­
ture: The Graeco-Arabic Translation Movement in Baghdad and Early Abbasid Society (2nd-
4th/8th-10th Centuries) (London 1999); and M. Shefer-Mossensohn, Science Among the Otto­
mans: The Cultural Creation and Exchange o f Knowledge (Austin 2015).
80 O. Baçaran, ‘idris-i Bitlisi hakkmda bazi yeni bilgiler’, Journal o f Academic Studies, 4 (2002);
H. Tavakkolî, idrîs-i Bitlisi’nin Kanun-i Çehinçahî’sinin Tenkidli Neçri ve Türkçeye Tercümesi
(Istanbul 1974). Christopher Markiewicz composed a definitive statement of the conflicting
loyalties and identities of the Timurid-Ottoman context of idris-i Bitlisî’s patronage: C. Mar­
kiewicz, ‘The Crisis of Rule in Late Medieval Islam: A Study of Idris BidllsI (861-926/1457-
1520) and Kingship at the Turn of the Sixteenth Century’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Uni­
versity of Chicago, 2015.
81 ‘Textual habitus’ adapts Pierre Bourdieu’s notions of field and habitus as structured and ‘en-
structuring’ sets of relationships between agents, individuals, and modes of knowledge-making
with Brinkley Messick’s identification of a legal textual terrain peculiar to Islamicate forms of
jurisprudential authority. See P. Bourdieu, Outline o f a Theory o f Practice (Cambridge 1977)
and B. Messick, The Calligraphic State: Textual Domination and History in a Muslim Society
(Berkeley 1996).
38 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

scholar-bureaucrats, and Ottomanist researchers alike in their quest to define the state.
They thus also serve as the embodiment o f an ‘Ottoman w ay’, a point the conclusion o f
this essay will engage with below.
As one example o f how Ottoman scholar-bureaucrats engaged with the textual repos­
itory o f imperial action, Mustafa Ali transposed notions o f justice, order, and the text into
a new analytical position. This analytical mode, in which critics cum historians gradually
moved from characterizing the Sultan as just to identifying systems o f just governance,
thereby also inspired a shift from defining the state via the personhood o f the ruler to
locating it within the mechanisms o f administrative action.82 Even if the Sultan remained
as the nominal guarantor of a just system, M ustafa Ali epitomized the sense that it is the
historian or critic who places the volatility o f the past and present into a proper order, and
even divines what that order entails. In so doing, history becomes a particular praxis, or
rather, it becomes historiographical, interpretive, and thereby a mode o f political action.
Thus, Mustafa Ali looked precisely for the essence ikünK) o f chronological order (ah-
bar), sifting through materials compiled by other historians and yet arguing not, like ibn
Khaldun, for a new philosophy or science o f history, but rather for a reformed vision o f
political theory. Ali described the erosion o f impartiality, meritocracy, morality, and loy­
alty within the Ottoman realm and interpreted them as the consequential loss o f an inher­
ent order o f things. Within this rubric, Lokman’s opposition to Mustafa Ali was not just in
his affirmation o f absolutism, but also in his emplacement o f the Ottoman Sultans within
a genealogy o f order untouched by the interpretive intervention o f the historians’ craft.
If, according to Lokman, the Sultans joined a chain o f transmitted genealogies (nasab),
and were thus lifted outside o f tim e and into the sphere o f tradition, accepted by faith and
presumed sacred, then historical judgm ent would lack standing, and sovereignty itself
be removed from critique. Alternatively, within Mustafa A li’s form o f political theory
and criticism, justice may form the primary criterion o f order, but therein sovereignty
itself should be defined, and potentially curtailed by, ju st order. The codices and scroll
produced under Lokman’s supervision suggested that proper order inhered within the
dynasty itself. For Mustafa Ali, that order resided not only in just governance, but also in

82 Careful consideration of the vocabulary of ‘statC/state in Ottoman historical writing contin­

ues to yield invigorating discussions that address the relationship between textual and territo­
rial claims to power. For examples of key works that also argue for the gradual disentangle­
ment of the ‘state’ from the personhood of the Sultan over the course of the long sixteenth cen­
tury see: H. Yilmaz, ‘The Sultan and the Sultanate: Envisioning Rulership in the Age of Sul­
eyman the Lawgiver (1520-1566)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 2004,
and M. Sariyannis, ‘Ruler and State, State and Society in Ottoman Political Thought’, THR, 4
(2013), 83-117. Einar Wigen pushes these discussions further to suggest that while state may
have played a key role in Ottoman intellectual and bureaucratic circles, it remains unclear as to
whether or not we can assume any coincidence across terms for ‘empire’ in Ottoman v. Otto­
manist usages: E. Wigen, ‘Ottoman Concepts of Empire’, Contributions to the History o f Con­
cepts, 8 (2013), 44-66.1 also address notions of empire and the variable uses of the term devlet
and the intersection between justice, state, and sovereignty in H. L. Ferguson, The Proper Order
o f Things: Language, Power and Law in Ottoman Administrative Discourses (Stanford 2018).
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 39

proper critique, which potentially served as a standard against which any Sultan should
be judged. Critique was premised on juxtaposition with past forms and experiences, and
thus on history. The critic cum historian thereby constructed an ideal ‘state’ so as to im­
prove the Empire’s current state o f affairs.
These debates concerning the nature o f historical praxis within an expanding Otto­
man literary and conceptual sphere, serve to re-situate questions that attend to the nature
o f sovereignty, its limits and its heritage, in a broader intellectual terrain circumscribed
by Ottoman statesmen and elite producers themselves. The historiographical arguments
concerning early modern courtly politics and the state that opened this essay can thus
be addressed from within this evolving practice o f political analysis and critique itself.
The categories deployed by Mustafa Ali and Lokman, and the strategies made available
to them by a rich cultural tradition intent on demarcating the nature of just governance
within dynasties ruled by self-professed Muslims, constitute their own basis for analy­
sis and interpretation. These categories, and this cultural tradition, further provide an
alternative rubric for assessing the Ottoman imperial narrative: the role that categories
for order and classification played as simultaneously strategies o f governance and frame­
works for critique. This rubric reffames any discussion o f the ‘long sixteenth century’ as
one o f a persistent struggle over the categories o f sovereignty, the nature o f just rule, and
the principles o f ordered administration. History and history-writing was one o f the key
domains in which these struggles transpired.

The Vulnerabilities o f O ttom an Im p e ria l P ow er:

V icissitudes o f H isto ry a n d H isto rio g ra p h y

Lokman and M ustafa A li’s disparate use o f dynastic genealogies enabled an alternate as­
sessment o f conceptual paradigms for the Ottoman state, one that positioned institution­
alized courtly politics and formulae as components o f ‘state’-making achieved through
history-writing. Both authors, despite the dramatic oppositions outlined above, produced
chronicles and treatises intent on capturing the broad sweep o f chronological patterns and
locating the Ottoman dynasty within this diachronic arc. This section turns instead to a
çehname treatise composed within a particular moment, the opening years o f the long war,
or fifteen years’ war, with the Habsburgs in Ottoman-occupied Hungary (1591/2-1606).
The treatise demonstrates that the use o f history-writing as a potential mode o f political
critique traversed genres and personages and may also have shaped later court-produced
rescripts o f Ottoman dynastic history. One o f the more significant treatises o f the opening
events o f this campaign, Talikizade’s (d. 1599) Sehname-i hümayun, placed these military
encounters within a broader commentary on the vicissitudes o f Ottoman imperial power.83

83 Christine Woodhead provided a critical commentary and edition of this text in Ta ’lïkïzâde s
Sehnâme-i Hümâyün, A History o f the Ottoman Campaign into Hungary 1593—94 (Berlin
1983). She further outlined the larger stakes involved in the position of court historian in
Woodhead, ‘An Experiment’. For a comprehensive study of manuscript production and image
management at the Ottoman court during the period, see E. Fetvaci, Picturing History at the
40 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

His treatise, though stylized as a campaign history (gazaname), also exemplifies the de­
velopment o f insa prose, with its hybrid linguistic and lyrical forms, in the second half of
the sixteenth century. It thus showcases the glory o f the Empire, both through the literary
virtuosity o f its statesmen, and in the narrative o f its challenges and accomplishments.
Talikizade was first a court scribe and then the fourth sehnameci (serving from 1591-
1600). He had also served as a census registrar (tahrir katibi) and campaign clerk (sefer
katibi) before becoming a fixture in the imperial divan, first simply as a copyist for daily
transactions o f the council, and then as a stylist for the court itself84 His interaction with
the textual habitus o f the Ottoman establishment thus traversed forms intended to record
and document administrative practice, and those intended to transform those practices into
a literary declamation o f imperial might. Talikizade’s Sehname tracks the opening years
o f the long war, and concentrates on the 1594 siege o f Yamk (Gyôr). Christine Woodhead
suggested that the campaign served only as the scaffolding for his literary display, as there
was very little focus on the minutiae o f the military venture itself.85 However, at three
critical points in the text— in the panegyric opening, in reports concerning the council of
war with Sinan Pasha as the campaign commenced, and upon news o f the accession of
Mehmed III (r. 1595-1603)— Talikizade showcased the fundamental structure o f the Otto­
man state and the sultanate. At these moments the campaign treatise breaks to enumerate
the organizational structures o f the Empire, comment on its history, and thereby transform
the larger imperial project into an object o f representation and, subtly, o f criticism.
In the opening, he references a previous work, the §emailname (Book o f Disposi­
tions) in which he had outlined the features o f sultanic rule deemed “admirable” and
essential to the strength and vitality o f the Ottoman dynasty.86 Seemingly, Murad III
criticized this text when he reviewed its pages and Talikizade left for the campaign in
Hungary deeply disturbed that he had incurred sultanic disfavor.87 The Semailname’s

Ottoman Court (Bloomington and Indianapolis 2013); a shorter version of her arguments con­
cerning the significance of patronage in the composition of official historical narratives can be
found in eadem, ‘Office of the Ottoman Court Historian’, in R. G. Ousterhout (ed.), Studies on
Istanbul and Beyond: The Freely Papers, Vol. 1 (Philadelphia 2007), 7-21.
84 Woodhead,‘Taliqizade Mehmed’.
85 Woodhead, Ta’lTkïzâde’s Sehnâme-iHümâyün, 3 and 68-70.
86 The first Çemailname -i Âl-i Osman was produced during Seyyid Lokman’s tenure as sehnameci
and during the viziership of Sokullu Mehmed Pasha, who invested heavily in the textual icon-
ization of Ottoman imperial history and power. The first copy was dated 1579, and gave rise to
a number of manuscripts that followed its formal elements: illustrated portraits of the Sultans,
carefully crafted genealogies of their claim to dynastic legitimacy, and descriptions of both the
physical and moral attributes of a just and wise sovereign. Fetvaci, Picturing History at the Ot­
toman Court, 139-141. On the emergence of a trans-regional focus on portraiture and display
as part of a performance of imperial power see the essays by G. Necipoglu, ‘Word and Image:
The Serial Portraits of Ottoman Sultans in Comparative Perspective’, and J. Raby, ‘From Eu­
rope to Istanbul’, in S. Kangal (ed.), The Sultan’s Portrait: Picturing the House o f Osman ’(Is­
tanbul 2000), 22-61 and 136-163.
87 Woodhead, ‘Reading Ottoman Sehnames’, 72. Woodhead argues that Talikizade himself indi­
cated this purported disfavor by crafting a defense of the text within the re-organized compila-
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 41

purported emphasis on Murad Ill’s renowned poetic and intellectual talents may have
played one role in gamering the Sultan’s scorn.88 The post o f the çehnameci during Mu­
rad Ill’s reign was tasked with countering an outpouring o f critical literature in the guise
o f advice manuals typified by Mustafa Ali. His accusations directed both implicitly and
explicitly at Murad III suggested that the sultanate had departed from the ideal and be­
come a profligate court, one that had abandoned just governance and campaigning for
personal indulgence and lavish entertainment behind palace walls. Thus, poetic talent,
no matter how great, may not have been the image best captured within the pages o f the
§emailname. In fact, when Talikizade composes his §ehname and includes a rescript of
the “admirable qualities” listed in the §emailname he abandons poetry for the idealized
image o f dynastic legitimacy and grandeur. He thus repeats a full list o f 20 qualities,
including adherence to Sunni Islam and the Hanafi legal school, continuous dynastic suc­
cession, guardianship o f the holy cities and dominion o f both land and sea, the diversity
and prosperity o f the Empire’s inhabitants, the extension o f a system o f just rule, adher­
ence to the sharia, cultivated behavior o f the Sultans themselves (adab), the enforcement
o f law, the maintenance o f a solvent treasury, and respect for freehold property.89 While
presumably attached to the personhood o f Murad III, they also come to identify a trope
o f sovereign authority which is thus also implicitly attached to the sultanate rather than
to any individual Sultan.
The Çehname visibly deploys this sleight o f hand, or slippage from Sultan to sul­
tanate, within the ensuing pages. First, the 20 attributes become the framework from
within which he shaped the episodic narrative o f the campaign. Almost immediately,
they form an implicit critique o f conditions reported to the current Grand Vezir, Sinan
Pasha, concerning Ottoman administrative tactics in the Hungarian occupied territories.
Local complaints concerning the Ottoman establishment’s neglect o f fortress defenses,
the increased numbers o f soldiers too inexperienced to adequately police borders, lapsed
attention to securing just rule over the population that had increased the likelihood of
complaint and rebellion in combination meant that the loyalty o f the region as a whole to
the Ottoman sovereign was fragile and must be restored.90 The narrative Talikizade con­
structed suggests that while the military campaign might secure the borders and reassert
territorial control, the larger questions o f allegiance could only be resolved with a full
commitment to proper governing strategies.
Toward the end o f the text, upon the accession o f M ehmed III, Talikizade breaks from
the vaguely chronological flow of the narrative to compose the traditional formal tribute

tion of sultanic attributes subsequently presented in his Çehname. See The Present ‘“Terrour of
the World”? Contemporary Views of the Ottoman Empire C1600’, History, 72 (1987), 20-37;
and Woodhead, Ta’lïkîzâdes Sehnâme-i Hümâyün 17-19, and 114-33.
88 For an additional effort to trace these potential criticisms and their meaning for both the post
of the sehnameci and the role of sultanic patronage, see C. Woodhead ‘Murad III and the His­
torians: Representations of Ottoman Imperial Authority in Late 16th Century Historiography’,
in Karateke and Reinkowski (eds), Legitimizing the Order, 85-98.
89 Woodhead, Ta’lïkïzâdes Sehnâme-i Hümâyün, 17-19, and 114-133.
90 Ibid., 15b-20a, and 143-154.
42 HEATHER L. FERGUSON

and advice-giving that marked the consecration o f a new Sultan. He composed 382 verses
that included praise, counsel, and a record o f past glories so as to outl ine future hopes for
the Empire. Contained within this praise, however, was a reckoning in which he enumer­
ated the contemporary woes that plagued the dynasty.91 These woes had become part of
a new critical voice amongst statesmen and literati such as Mustafa Ali concerned by
shifts in the fortunes o f the Empire, and would reach a fevered pitch in the first decades
o f the seventeenth century.92 Through the organization o f the Çehname, Talikizade cata­
pulted the woes o f the street into the pages o f a text shaped within the palace workshop.
Talikizade first reasserts the importance o f the proper ordering of society, and the role of
the Sultan in bringing harmony to the disparate elements o f the realm. He references all
the typical concerns: lapsed boundaries between the military and the productive classes;
the breakdown o f the traditional backbone o f the Ottoman forces, the sipahi cavalryman,
who were deserting their duty to appear readily equipped for war; the rampant abuse of
power amongst state agents and insistence on personal reward rather than replenishing the
imperial treasury; the increased distance o f the Sultan from administrative and military
affairs, with the result that tyranny abounded and justice faltered, and dismay that officials
whose job it was to administer justice across the realm (especially the kadi, in Talikizade’s
judgment) were not adequately appointed or were transferred too often to fully perform
their duties.93 Talikizade concludes this section with a customary posture o f humility, in­
dicating that the Sultan knew best, and yet simultaneously asserting that the sanctity and
felicity o f the realm depended on the sovereign’s ability to take wise counsel.94
Talikizade’s treatise therefore ends not in triumphant expectation o f future sultanic
glory, but rather in the chaos accompanying Sinan Pasha’s dismissal from office, and the
failures o f his successor, Ferhad Pasha, to deal with a revolt in Wallachia and Moldavia
or to prevent the loss o f the key fortress o f Esztergom. The re-appointment o f Sinan Pa­
sha, and plans for a new campaign season led by the Sultan himself in 1596, referenced
in the final folios o f the treatise, ultimately bore fruit in Mehmed Ill’s conquest o f Eger.
However, the mixed success o f Ottoman efforts to control invaded territories, and to as­
sert continuous rule over a region with independent political forces and ideological narra­
tives, ultimately led not to universalist power, but, in Talikizade’s estimation, a weakened
authority tempered by political infighting, inconsistent management, and improper adher­
ence to the principles o f governance. Talikizade’s gehname cum gazaname thus embod­
ied a bricolage o f textual genres: chronicle (tarih), reportage and classification o f events
0tahrir ü tasnif), treatise on etiquette and proper comportment (adab), and advice manual
(nasihatname). Consequently, it also blended varied authoritative voices typical o f these
genres to sustain his portrait o f both campaign and Empire: Q ur’anic citations, references
to the hadith, poetic conventions quoted or invented, and traditions o f kingly virtues and
attributes actively propounded within Arabo-Persianate and Türkmenid contexts such as

91 Ibid., 62 and 105a-119a; 366-411.

92 Fleischer, Bureaucrat and Intellectual in the Ottoman Empire, 3-5.
93 Woodhead, Ta’lïkîzâde’s Sehnâme-i Hümâyün, 109a-113b, and 380-397.
94 Ibid., 113b, and 397.
 OTTOMANS, OTTOMANISTS AND THE STATE 43

the circle o f equity (daire-i adalet). This bricolage o f styles and voices was brought to
bear on one pivotal question posed within the folios o f the Sehname: in the midst of war
and potential imperial crisis, what are the foundational principles o f the Ottoman state
and how might they be enacted so as to secure present borders and future fortunes?
The framework for this question, one that seeks principles in the past to safeguard
the present and ensure the durability o f the Empire, places the scholar-bureaucrats and
çehnamecis briefly surveyed here within a larger corpus o f actors engaged in reflective
analysis. Seyyid Lokman, Mustafa Ali, and Talikizade may have differed in their agen­
das and positions within the Ottoman establishment, but in combination they embody
an obsessive focus on the state, and thus generated part o f a textual web that defined its
power. This power, across these perhaps idiosyncratic representatives of a more general­
ized shift during the Tong sixteenth century’, was more vulnerable and even fabricated
than absolute. Lokman, who foregrounded the Sultan and staunchly defended his abso­
lute discretionary power, in actuality oversaw the production o f a scroll and codices that
focused instead on the courtly establishment: viziers, scribes, dignitaries, and servants
o f the realm. In other words, the court itself replaced the Sultan, for whom the elaborate
apparatus o f text and image had been intended to sacralize and enshrine. Mustafa Ali
projected an idealized past, an ‘Ottoman w ay’ or kanun against which the perceived
present crisis was measured.95 Even more pressing, he suggested that absolute power
was in itself a corrupted goal. And Talikizade turned panegyric into critique, by insert­
ing attributes o f ju st rule into a §ehname/cdmçmgn chronicle that narrated intrigue and
disorder. Each o f these actors was him self part o f a ‘way-making’ or fernwn-making es­
tablishment, and thus traversed boundaries between conceptual and administrative map­
pings o f the dynasty and its imperial domains. While this ‘Ottoman way’ may have been
retrospectively constituted, even as it drew from kanun-making activities o f the imperial
council, it suggests a clear sense that the Ottoman state was a thing that must be made,
or rather, constantly re-made, through the combined activities o f sword and pen. The vul­
nerability o f the state, then, also highlights the vicissitudes o f ‘state’-making, or rather,
o f historiographical efforts to affix statehood within an analytical rubric. Ottomans and
Ottomanists alike strained in their effort to achieve this goal. As present practitioners of
the craft, we thus also strive to avoid parroted speech or a derivative re-transmission of
past knowledge, and engage instead an analysis that weighs principles against practice
so as to define structures o f knowledge and methods o f knowledge-making peculiar to
the period o f study.

95 A phrase now key to the field since Fleischer’s discussion in Bureaucrat and Intellectual in
the Ottoman Empire where he also linked it to an emerging “bureaucratic consciousness” that
Mustafa Ali typified. See esp. pages 214-231 and Guy Burak’s reference to the importance of a
“Rumi way” that frames the legal activities of the Ottoman establishment as well in G. Burak,
The Second Formation o f Islamic Law: The Hanafi School in the Early Modern Ottoman Em­
pire (New York 2015), 99-100.
 « LE SULTAN DES DEUX TERRES ET DES DEUX MERS » :
REPRÉSENTATIONS DIPLOMATIQUES DE L’ESPACE
POLITIQUE OTTOMAN AU XVIe SIÈCLE

Güneç I çiksel *

A partir des an nées 1550, les dignitaires ottomans prennent davantage conscience des
limites géographiques et culturelles du monde qui les entoure. La consolidation des fron­
tières existantes de l’empire devient alors la priorité. Cependant, à une majeure exception
près, il n ’existe aucune tentative de redéfinition ou de représentation émique détaillée,
écrite ou visuelle, de cet espace politique au seizième siècle, bien qu’il y existe un déno­
minateur commun : les « Pays bien-gardés » (memalik-i mahruse)*1. Ce groupe nominal
ne se prête pas à une interprétation immédiate et ces « pays » demeurent souvent indéfi­
nis. Néanmoins, la titulature du sultan, insérée au protocole initial des actes les plus offi­
ciels offre un cadre de lecture.
Dans cet article, notre intention est non seulement d’analyser les façons de représen­
ter les « Pays bien gardés » au xvie siècle dans les actes sultaniens, mais aussi d’inter­
préter les instruments tant diplomatiques que stylistiques qui permettent à la chancelle­
rie ottomane de transmettre les messages politiques aux différents destinataires de ces
documents2. Parmi ces actes, nous avons choisi les ahdname concédés aux Impériaux et

* Istanbul Medeniyet University.

1 Le chef d’œuvre inachevé de Celalzade Mustafa, Tabakâtü’l-memâlik ve derecâtü’l-mesâlik
devait comprendre une description détaillée du territoire ottoman : P. Kappert (éd.), Geschichte
Sultan Süleyman Kanunis von 1520 bis 1557 (Wiesbaden 1981 ). Sur cet auteur et son projet: L
K. Çahin, Empire and Power in the Reign o f Süleyman: Narrating the Sixteenth-Century Otto­
man World (Cambridge 2013).
2 Pour des tentatives similaires, cf. H. înalcik, « Power Relationship Between Russia, Ottoman
Empire and Crimean Khanate as Reflected in Titulature », dans: Ch. Lemercier-Quelquejay,
G. Veinstein, S. Enders Wimbush (éd.), Turco-Tatar Past Soviet Present: Studies presented
to Alexandre Bennigsen (Paris 1986), pp. 175-211; D. Kolodziejczyk, « Khan, Caliph, Tsar
and Imperator: the Multiple Identities of the Ottoman Sultan », dans P. Fibeger Bang et D.
Kolodziejczyk (éd.), Universal Empire. A Comparative Approach to Imperial Culture and Rep­
resentation in Eurasian History (Cambridge 2012), pp. 175-193. Dans son livre récent, Pal­
mira Brummett évoque les données territoriales dans les actes sultaniens, sans pour autant les
analyser : Mapping the Ottomans: Sovereignty, Territory, and Identity in the Early Modern Me­
diterranean (Cambridge 2015), p. 78.
46 GUNE$ IÇIKSEL

au Royaume de Pologne qui constituent une série considérable -quatre documents origi­
naux, pour chacun des cas - et qui comprennent une titulature plus élaborée par rapport
à celle insérée dans les capitulations octroyées aux autres États européens3. Il serait inté­
ressant d ’analyser également la titulature du sultan telle qu’elle s’affiche dans les actes
adressés aux souverains orientaux, mais dans ceux-ci, pour des raisons encore à élucider,
les mentions territoriales font défaut.

L a ch a n cellerie e t l ’im a g e su lta n ien

La chancellerie est le lieu destiné à l’élaboration, à la publication et à la conservation
des actes issus du monarque ottoman. Le niçanci, son directeur, contrôle tant leur élabo­
ration et leur rédaction que leur expédition4. Les scribes pratiquent une écriture à usage
politique et administratif, capable de démontrer leur maîtrise de procédés littéraires et
syntaxiques, tels que l’emploi de la prose rimée, la composition de préambules grandi­
loquents et l’usage averti de références et de citations5. Il leur faut donner l’image d ’un
pouvoir qui ordonne, gère et commande de façon efficace. Ce respect formel est un tra­
vail long, délicat et indispensable : le chancelier et le grand vizir n ’hésitent pas à refuser
un texte s’il ne correspond pas aux normes de précision et d ’exactitude qu’ils réclament.
Tous ont conscience que pour transmettre un message, le document doit être clair dans
l’exposé ainsi que dans les dispositions et injonctions. Il faut que les documents soient
formellement parfaits afin de refléter une image positive du sultan, mais ils doivent aussi
être irréprochables sur le fond afin de garder toute leur efficacité. C ’est dans cette double
optique que le chancelier conçoit les actes. Le sultan se doit d ’afficher l’image d ’un
pouvoir magnanime et magnifique pour rassurer ses sujets et pour impressionner les mo­
narques, et les productions écrites doivent être à l’image de ces principes.
La titulature - la section sans doute la plus élaborée des actes sultaniens - fait partie
du protocole initial. Elle est constituée par la suscription (intitulatio, unvari) dans laquelle
on trouve une formule qui précise les titres et qualités de l’auteur de l’acte. Celle-ci est
suivie par l’adresse (inscriptio, elkati), puis par la formule de salutation (chia) qui est
modelée en fonction du titre, du rang et de la confession du destinataire. La titulature
sultanienne et l’adresse ci-dessous est tirée de la traduction contemporaine en français
d ’un ahdname concédé par Selim II (1566-1574) aux Impériaux, en 1574.

3 Dans les capitulations accordées aux rois de France au xvie siècle, la titulature sultanienne est
sommaire. Dans l’acte de 1569, le sultan est décrit uniquement en tant que le maître de la mer
Blanche et de la mer Noire ainsi que de la Roumélie, de l’Anatolie et de l’Arabie. BNF, ms.
tur. 130, fol. 3 r°. Dans les capitulations anglaises, la titulature sultanienne n’est pas introduite
du fait que ces documents sont stylés comme des nifan auguste. Cf S. Skilliter, William Har-
borne and the Trade with Turkey, 1578-1582 (Londres 1977), pp. 232-236.
4 J. Matuz, Das Kanzleiwesen Sultan Suleymans des Prachtigen (Wiesbaden 1974); C. H.
Fleischer, « Preliminaries to the Study of the Otoman Bureacracy», JTS, X (1986), pp. 135-
141; TDVÎA, «Niçanci» (E. Afyoncu).
5 TDViA, « Kâtip » (Erhan Afyoncu, Recep Ahiskali); Ch. Woodhead, « From Scribe to Littéra­
teur: The Career of a Sixteenth-Century Ottoman Katib», British Society for Middle Eastern
Studies Bulletin, 9/1 (1982), pp. 55-74: 58.
 « LE SULTAN DES DEUX TERRES ET DES DEUX MERS » 47

Moi qui suis seigneur des seigneurs, et seigneur des royaumes des Romains, Arabie & Perse,
Roy des Roys, et des royaumes de Tyr (sic !) et Hait et Lim (sic !), puissant subjugateur, vic­
torieux dominateur et triomphant de tous exercices, occupant et possédant les royaumes du
Monde, roy des seigneuries et royaumes qui naguère ont esté sous les Césars ; et de ce temps
souverain monarque de la victorieuse couronne de ce siècle et empereur des régions et des
provinces ... [leur liste extensive, infra] ... encores plus oultre des autres principaux royaumes
qui sont occupez par nostre victorieux et heureux glaive, très resnommez royaumes et chas-
teaux qui sont possédez par notre Cesarée puissance. Suis Empereur Sélim Han, fils de Sul­
tan Suleiman Han, fils de Sultan Sélim Han [...] lesquels avec l’aide de Dieu très bon, très
grand et très puissant, ont estably l’ordre très heureux de la Monarchie sous ma puissante
main et glaive triomphal. Il est concédé et confirmé à mon bras fort d’occuper et de dominer
aux royaumes de ce Monde et par moy est possédée et assurée tout la largeur de la Terre [...]
À présent toy qui es honoré et esleu du peuple romain & empereur des Royaumes des Ger­
mains et des royaumes des Bohème, Croatie et Sclavonic et Roy et dominateur d’autre prin­
cipaux Royaumes [...]6-

Les titres honorifiques soigneusement attribués que la chancellerie employait en

s ’adressant aux dignitaires, aux vassaux ainsi qu’aux souverains et ambassadeurs étran­
gers et qui correspondaient à Yinscriptio de la pratique diplomatique européenne, étaient
un instrument tant pour rendre officielle la hiérarchie internationale dans laquelle le sul­
tan sans se justifier se place au sommet que pour définir la relation entre les épistoliers,
et le lieu où se met en place une hiérarchie entre les interlocuteurs. Le « dispensateur des
couronnes » était, au demeurant, la source des honneurs, et la forme précise dans laquelle
ils étaient décernés devait être rigoureusement respectée.7 Ainsi, le nom du destinataire
était suivi souvent par la salutation libellée en fonction de son rang (voir l’annexe II).
Uinscriptio se termine souvent par la formule de bénédiction (dua) hutimet ‘avakibuhu
b i’l-hayr (que sa vie ici-bas s’accomplisse dans le droit chemin). Les considérations sur
la hiérarchie entre les interlocuteurs visent à définir la tonalité de l’ensemble de la lettre.
Par ailleurs, les formules de bénédiction sont prises très au sérieux par la chancellerie.
Dès l’époque de M ehmed II, il s’est établi tout un système de gradation. Les münçi
(épistolier) semblent avoir constitué tôt des listes des bénédictions (dua) d ’autant plus
nécessaires que les différences de rang sont devenues de plus en plus subtiles où à chaque
lâkab correspond une dua précise8.

6 La traduction contemporaine française: Paris, Bnf. ms. fr. 7093, fol. 28 v°- 35 r°. Ne serait-ce
qu’inexacte dans quelques passages - à dessein ou simplement par l’incompréhension des tra­
ducteurs comme dans le cas de Türk ve Deylem (littoral méridional du Caspien)- cette traduc­
tion reflète la perception européenne de la titulature sultanienne. Pour la description de l’acte
original: E. D. Petritsch, Regesten der Osmanischen Dokumente im Ôsterreichischen Staatsar-
chiv. Band 1: 1480-1574 (Vienne 1991), p. 253.
7 Kotodziejczyk, « Khan, Caliph, Tsar and Imperator », pp. 178-180.
8 Yahya b. Mehmed, Menâhicü'l-inçâ, Ç. Tekin (éd.) (Cambridge 1971) ; Tacizade Sa’di Çelebi,
Mün$eât-i S a ’di Çelebi, N. Lugal et A. Erzi (éds) (Istanbul 1956). Voir aussi, B. Kütükoglu,
« Münçeat mecmualannin Osmanli diplomatigi bakimmdan ehemmiyeti », Tarih boyunca pa-
leografya ve diplomatik semineri-Bildiriler (Istanbul 1988), pp. 169-176.
48 GÜNEÇ IÇIKSEL

L ’évo lu tio n des m en tio n s territo ria les d a n s les a ctes su ltaniens

Nous n ’analyserons pas ici toutes les parties de la titulature, mais nous pencherons
sur les notions territoriales qu’elle comprend. Néanmoins, il faut insister sur quelques
points. La langue hyperbolique, typique des actes sultaniens du XVIe siècle, évoque
immédiatement un jeu d ’idées et d ’émotions dont la construction demande peu ou pas
d’explication au destinataire. Ces images sont parlantes dans un contexte culturel com­
mun aux protagonistes. Par exemple, la chancellerie associe souvent les sultans aux rois
mythiques, à l’instar de Chosroes, qui représente la magnificence, ou les désigne en tant
qu’ « Alexandre de leur temps ». Ainsi, lorsque la chancellerie ottomane se réfère au « roi
biscornu » - c ’est-à-dire à Alexandre le Grand - , c’est en vue de promouvoir l’idée de la
suprématie des Ottomans sur leurs pairs ; suprématie que l’on retrouve également à tra­
vers d ’autres usages, comme l’énumération dissymétrique de l’espace politique dominé.
En effet, l’usage de titres et d ’épithètes qui se réclament d’une domination exten­
sive sur le « quart habité du monde », est fréquent dans la rhétorique des chancelleries
orientales, et ce, depuis l’Antiquité910. Un moyen commode de le suggérer est d’affirmer
l’autorité du souverain sur un monde perçu comme une unité indifférenciée, par exemple
le titre de « roi de l’univers ». L’épithète âlempenah (refuge du monde) et ses formes
adjectivales en sont un exemple particulièrement récurrent. Mais le plus souvent, la tota­
lité gouvernée est considérée, a fortiori, comme administrativement structurée. D ’où la
liste ouverte où sont énumérées une kyrielle d’unités simples (souvent des régions admi­
nistratives), afin de donner l’impression d’un immense ensemble dont est revendiqué
un contrôle unique - ou, du moins, une ambition dans ce sens. La présentation de cette
«liste ouverte» est certainement moins exhaustive pour décrire le contrôle sur le monde
entier: elle laisse penser qu’une autre région pourrait toujours être ajoutée ou qu’un autre
pays reste encore à soumettre. Bien que moins catégoriques, ces listes ouvertes peuvent
s’avérer plus utiles à des fins de propagande. Une telle liste peut également être organisée
selon un m otif structurel (par exemple, en opposant les régions orientales et occidentales)
afin de démontrer que les unités géographiques énumérées ne sont pas seulement nom­
breuses, mais se distribuent d ’une manière équilibrée dans le monde entier. Dans certains
cas, l’hyperbole prolonge l’idée de puissance suprême et, sans l’expliciter, suggère la
suprématie du souverain sur les frontières du monde habité. Dans le cas ottoman, cet
effet est créé par l’ajout final de la mention « ve sair nice vilâyetin (ainsi que beaucoup
d ’autres régions) »t0.

9 T. Gnoli, The Interplay o f Roman and Iranian Titles in the Roman East (Vienne 2007), pp. 33-
40. Cet élément a aussi sa place dans les actes adressés par des potentats musulmans à des pu­
issances étrangères. Par exemple le souverain mamelouk était entre autres sultan des Arabes,
des Persans et des Turcs et roi des deux mers : M. Dekkiche, « Le Caire : carrefour des ambas­
sades. Étude historique et diplomatique de la correspondance échangée entre les sultans mam-
louks circassiens et les souverains timourides et turcomans (Qara Qoyunlu-Qaramanides) au
XVe s. d’après le BnF ms.ar. 4440 », thèse de doctorat non publiée, Université de Liège, 2011,
p. 37 et seq.
10 L’énumération des régions soumises est une pratique également répandue dans les chancelleri-
 « LE SULTAN DES DEUX TERRES ET DES DEUX MERS » 49

Latitulature sultanienne ainsi que les donnés géographiques qu’elle comprend appa­
raît, au XVe siècle, sous une forme rudimentaire. Dans ses actes, Mehmed II se présente
en tant que sultan des Deux Terres et des Deux Mers (berreyn ve bahreyn).11 Sous le
règne de Bayezid II, l’autoreprésentation du sultan à travers l’évocation des pays domi­
nés se régularise et la liste des beylerbeylicats ottomans commence à devenir un élément
stable de la titulature sultanienne12. Cependant, la chancellerie de l’époque de Soliman
le Magnifique étoffe cette liste, tout en établissant des usages rhétoriques qui exposent la
puissance infinie du padichah. Ainsi, dans le bulletin de victoire (fetihname) de Bagdad
(1535), à l’intention du roi de France, le sultan se présente comme le maître « de la mer
Blanche et de la mer Noire, de la Roumélie et de l’Anatolie, des pays de la Caramanie
et du Roum, du Dulkadiriye, du Diyarbakir, du Kurdistan, de l’Azerbaïdjan, du pays des
Tatars, de Damas, d ’Alep et du Caire, de la Mecque la vénérée, de Médine la très illu­
minée, de Jérusalem, et de Djedda, des [pays] arabes en totalité, du pays perse (Acem),
de Bagdad, séjour de la paix, de Basra, du pays de Mu§a’§a, de Luristan, des territoires
du Levant et des pays du Couchant » 13. Selon la norme qui s’imposera au fil des actes

es médiévales occidentales. Par exemple, dans sa lettre au sultan datant de 1533, Charles-Quint
fait une longue liste comprenant, entre autres, l’épithète du « roy de Hiérusalem » et terminée
par une mention à'et cetera: Charles Ve de ce nom par la grâce de Dieu empereur des Roma­
ins tousiours auguste, roy de la Germanie, Hispaigne, Castille, Léon, Arragon, des deux Sid­
les, Hiérusalem, Hungrie, Dalmatie, Croatie, Granade, Tollède, Valence, Galice, Maillorque,
Sicille, Sardigne, Cordua, Corsica, Murcia, Algarby [Djerbe], Gibraltar, Canaries, Indes, et
terre ferme, mer océane, Archiducq d ’Austhrice, ducq de Brabant, Stirie, Carinte, Carniole,
Limbourg, Gheldre, Athines, Wittemberghes, comte de Flandre, Habsbourg, Tirol, Barchelone,
Arthois et Bourgogne, palatin de Hesnault, Hollande, Zélande, Namur, Rossillon, Cerdagne et
Zutphaine, lantgrave d ’Elsace, marquis de Bourgogne, Oristain, Hotiain et du Saint-Empire de
Rome, prince de Suèbe, Cathalane, et Biscaye, Seigneur de Frize, Marche, Slavonie, Wealines,
Salines, Tripoli et Malines etc. Cf. A. von Gevay, Urkunden und Actenstücke zur Geschichte
der Verhaltnijfe zwischen Oesterreich, Ungarn und der Pforte im 16. u., t. II, 1, (Vienne 1841),
pp. 106-107. L’analogie entre les titulatures habsbourgeoise et ottomane est tentante : pourrait-
on déduire pour autant un cas de mise en chère dans les longues listes ottomanes qui apparaît
à partir des années 1530 au moment où l’antagonisme avec les Impériaux atteint son niveau le
plus élevé ?
11 M. Çelik (éd), Fatih Sultan MehmedDônemi Ferman ve Arçiv Belgeleri (Gebze 2015).
12 D. Kolodziejczyk, Ottoman-Polish Diplomatie Relations, I5th-18th Century: An Annotated
Edition o f ‘Ahdnames and Other Documents (Leyde 2000), p. 210. Dans le traité de 1489,
le sultan Bayezid est uniquement : « Asie, Grecie Imperator » : op.cit., p. 200. Dans celui de
1494, « Imperator ambarum terrarum, Asiae atque Europae et marium Magnus Sultanus » :
op.cit., p. 202. Sept ans plus tard, le même sultan est « Imperator Grecie, Assie atque Europe
et marium »: ibid., p. 208. Quant à son successeur, Selim 1er, il est le « Grande imperator di
Constantinopoli, di Asia Europa Persia Soria et Egipto », ibid., p. 218.
13 Bibliothèque Nationale de France, ms. supplément turc, n° 835. Dans la lettre à Frédéric II de
Mantoue, préparée en 1526, la titulature sultanienne est également sommaire et similaire. Ain­
si, le sultan est le sultan et padiçah des de la mer Blanche et de la mer Noire, de la Roumélie et
de l’Anatolie, des pays de la Caramanie et du Roum, du Dulkadiriye, du Diyarbakir, du Kurd­
istan, de l’Azerbaïdjan, de la Perse (Acem), de Damas, d’Alep et du Caire, de la Mecque, de
Médine, de Jérusalem, de tous les pays arabes, du Yémen ainsi que beacoup d’autres pays. Cf.
50 GUNEÇ IÇIKSEL

ultérieurs, la chancellerie égraine, à quelques exceptions près, le chapelet des beylerbey-

licats en fonction de leur ancienneté. Ainsi, ceux de Roumélie et d ’Anatolie, créés dans
la seconde moitié du XIVe siècle, sont cités en premier. Ils sont suivis des beylerbeylicats
créés à l’époque de Mehmed II: la Caramanie et le Roum. Ensuite, comme nous allons le
voir, la logique interne des listes se complique.
Force est de constater que ces énumérations d’éléments géographico-administratifs
au XVIe siècle comportent de nombreuses irrégularités. Cela s’explique d’abord par la
nature des actes faisant partie de notre échantillon. Nous avons privilégié les ahdname,
du fait qu’ils sont plus riches et éloquents en ce qui concerne la liste de régions. Ces
listes changent non seulement en fonction du destinataire que des rapports de force entre
ce dernier et le sultan au moment de la rédaction des actes, mais également en fonction
du contexte politique14 : la conquête de nouvelles régions va souvent de paire avec un
nouvel agencement de l’énumération. En outre, ces textes ne sont pas issus du même
niçanci : les styles de Celalzade (en poste entre 1534-1556 ; 1566-1567) et de Feridun
Bey (1573-1577), peuvent différer dans le détail et les blocs territoriaux, bien qu’ils
conservent une cohérence interne, comme on le verra, s’alternent.
Ainsi, dans les lettres adressées aux monarques occidentaux au XVIe siècle, les sul­
tans ne font pas appel à leur titre de « serviteur des deux saints sanctuaires »; mais se
présentent comme les détenteurs des villes saintes, dotées de leurs épithètes respectifs.
Ainsi, La Mecque est vénérée, Médine est illuminée et Jérusalem, noble. La position de
ces villes saintes - toujours regroupées dans la même hiérarchie - n ’est pas stable au sein
de la liste globale. Elles sont citées tantôt en tête, avant les autres unités géographiques,
et tantôt à la suite des trois éléments territoriaux et culturels constitutifs de l’identité otto­
mane, à savoir les pays de Roum, Arab et Acem, et des deux mers, que sont la Méditerra­
née et la mer Noire. Elles se voient parfois rétrogradées au niveau des provinces arabes.
Quant aux trois capitales historiques (Istanbul, Edime et Bursa), elles sont rarement évo­
quées dans Yintitulatio au XVIe siècle. La seule attestée parmi celles-ci est Istanbul, une
fois dans le cadre d ’une lettre au tsar Ivan IV, et deux fois dans ceux de deux traités avec
le roi de Pologne en 1519 et en 1577. Dans la lettre au tsar, la ville capitale est qualifiée
de « l’objet de la convoitise des monarques »15.
Une dernière remarque s ’impose ici. Ces énumérations ont aussi bien de similitudes
que de différences par rapport aux registres de tevcihat. À quelques exceptions près, les
noms des beylerbelicats se coïncident et correspondent dans ces deux types de docu­
ments. Cependant, dans les tevcihat, ni les principautés clientes ni même les régences
barbaresques, sont évoquées (voir l’annexe II).

C. Rômer, « Apropos d’une lettre de Soliman le Magnifique à Federico Gonzaga II (1526) »,

dans : G. Veinstein (éd.) Soliman le Magnifique et son temps (Paris 1992), pp. 455-463.
14 inalcik, « Power Relationship », pp. 176-177.
15 Feridun Bey, Mecmua-i münçeatü’s-selâtin (Istanbul 1858), t. II, 465 ; Kolodziejczyk, Otto-
man-Polish Diplomatie Relations, p. 272.
 « LE SULTAN DES DEUX TERRES ET DES DEUX MERS » 51

La liste des domaines ottomans dans les ahdname Habsbourgeois, 1550-1575

Dans les premiers traités signés avec les Impériaux, l’énumération des beylerbeylicats
suit l’ordre chronologique de leur création.16 La liste commence avec la Roumélie, sui­
vie de l’Anatolie, du Roum et de la Caramanie. Ensuite, la chancellerie mentionne les
régions situées sur la frontière safavide: Erzurum, Diyarbakir, le Kurdistan, le Luristan,
l’Azerbaïdjan, la Perse. La Dulkadiriye assure la transition vers les provinces arabes,
que sont l’Égypte, la Syrie, Alep ainsi que l’Arabie « en totalité » (külliyen), précédée
des trois villes saintes. L’énumération se poursuit avec les provinces moyen-orientales
créées à l’époque de Soliman le Magnifique: Bagdad, Basra, Aden et le Yémen. Sont
ensuite dénombrées les entités politiques et les régions « vassales » : le Pays tatar et les
steppes kiptchak. Néanmoins, la question de savoir si la chancellerie ottomane désigne
par « Pays tatar » le khanat de Crimée ou les possessions ottomanes dans les péninsules
de Taman et Kertch, ou bien les deux à la fois, reste en suspens. Le dernier toponyme,
dans les actes de 1547 et 1554 est le « trône de Bude » (Budin tahti).
Dans les dernières capitulations du règne de Soliman le Magnifique accordées aux
Impériaux, il y a des continuités mais aussi de ruptures. Les quatre premiers localités - la
Méditerranée, la Mer Noire, la Roumélie et l’Anatolie - citées dans Yintitulatio des der­
niers ahdname solimaniens - les actes de 1559,1562 et 156517..sont les mêmes que dans
les lettres adressées aux États européens dans la première partie du XVIe siècle. Après
une référence aux « Deux Terres » (berreyn) et aux « Deux Mers » (bahreyn), la liste
continue avec les régions conquises sur les Mamelouks par Selim Ier, y compris les villes
saintes de l’Islam. Après, l’Arabie - appelée cette fois uniquement en tant que « Arabis-
tan » - arrivent les beylerbeylicats d ’Asie Mineure (Caramanie, Roum et Dulkadiriye).
Enfin, le sultan procède à une énumération de termes géographiques correspondant aux
régions conquises sous son règne, à l ’exception de Caffa (conquise par M ehmed II en
1475), qui s’étendent de Van à Temeçvar. Curieusement, pour 1559, on constate que la
chancellerie omet de citer la « Tartarie » et les steppes kiptchak parmi les régions sous
suzeraineté ottomane. On ne trouve en effet que Caffa, l’unité administrative la plus
importante de cette zone.
Notons deux changements importants dans les actes de 1559, 1562 et 1565. Le pre­
mier est la revalorisation des unités administratives arabophones par rapport aux do­
maines ruméliotes et anatoliens. Le deuxième concerne la présentation des territoires
trans-danubiens sous l’emprise ottomane : les principautés roumaines, à commencer par
la Valachie, puis la Moldavie, sont ordonnées en fonction de l’ancienneté de leur statut de
tributaire ; suit le « trône » de Bude. Force est de constater que le beylerbeylicat de Bude
est mentionné souvent sous différentes formes. On le voit sous l’appellation du « trône
de Bude » dans les premier documents, puis simplement « Bude » en 1559. Dans les

16 Feridun Bey, Mecmua-i münçeatü ’s-selâtin, t. II, 76-78. A. C. Schaendlinger, (éd.), Die Schre-
iben Süleymans des Prâchtigen an Karl V, Ferdinand 1. und Maximilian U. aus dem Haus-,
Hof- undStaatsarchive zu Wien (Vienne 1983), pp. 59-65.
17 Schaendlinger, (éd.), Die Schreiben Süleymans des Prâchtigen, pp. 61-1A', pp. 87-94.
52 GUNEÇ IÇIKSEL

actes de 1562 et 1565, il est attesté dans la forme « Üngürüs », appellation qui ne désigne
toutefois pas exactement Bude. 11 n ’est pas exclu que la chancellerie désigne à la fois les
beylerbeylicats de Bude et de Temeçvar - ce dernier n ’est évoqué qu’en 1562-, afin de
rappeler au destinataire les prétentions de la Porte sur la totalité de l’ancien royaume de
la Hongrie, malgré le tracé des frontières.
Dans les traités ratifiés par les successeurs immédiats de Soliman le Magnifique, la
chancellerie développe davantage ses procédés stylistiques. Elle se sert de l’allitération,
par les retours des sons et par l’emploi anaphorique des génitifs. Les groupements rimant
ensemble ont très souvent entre eux un rapport de sens étroit. Un souffle poétique court
dans ces phrases. Il est aisé de constater l’extension d ’un énoncé qui se complaît dans
le détail, la thématique d ’une majesté. Force est de constater que si la répétition en écho
de synonymes ou quasi synonymes crée l’effet de solennité, elle sacrifie souvent, l’idée
à la figure et le sens à l’apparence. La prose est parfois rendue sciemment obscure par
l’emploi de mots rares et par la profusion d’allusions érudites. Ainsi, dans l’acte de 1568,
les épithètes se suivent en cascade, donnant lieu à une énumération à la Prévert :

Moi qui est le sultan des sultans de Rum, de l’Arabie et de Perse et khakan des khakans de
Chine, de Cathay, de Turkestan et de Daylam. Le chevalier par excellence des champs de
bataille et le monarque des climats et pays. [Je suis] celui qui donne des ordres aux césars de
l’âge et de l’époque; le maître de la heureuse constellation et la personne que les deux victoires
se rassemblent. Je suis le maître des villes de grande renommée aux parages de la Méditerranée
et des forteresses aux alentours de la mer Noire. Notre Seuil Sublime est le refuge des grands
sultans du monde et notre Noble Excellence, est l’abri des khakans de l’époque18.

La surenchère qui marque ce document est évidente19 : dans les textes antérieurs, la
nature de la souveraineté ottomane sur les deux mers était formulée assez vaguement.
Or, dans celui-ci, la chancellerie la précise, sans pour autant remporter la conviction.
Ensuite, la chancellerie énumère les domaines à l’aune des actes de 1562 et 1565. La
liste des localités correspond généralement aux beylerbeylicats. Les gouvemorats orien­
taux et arabophones sont évoqués en priorité, suivis des beylerbeylicats anatoliens avant
d ’énumérer les unités administratives et les entités politiques vassales situées près de la
frontière Habsbourg, qui forment la partie occidentale de l’Empire.20

18 Pour la référence archivistique de l’acte : E. D. Petritsch, Regesten der osmanischen Dokumen-

te im Osterreichischen Staatsarchiv. Band 1: 1480-1574 (Vienne 1991), pp. 187-188.
19 Nous ne pouvons interpréter cette formulation, qui est unique dans les correspondances sul-
taniennes du XVIe siècle, sans la comparer à une autre, beaucoup trop ambitieuse, que l’on
trouve dans une lettre de Murad III à Maximilien II. Au lieu de proposer une liste des territoires
sous l’emprise ottomane, la chancellerie y offre une description chimérique de la domination
politique de la Porte : « la surface de la Terre, en long et en large, de la Chine jusqu’aux confins
du monde.... la totalité du quart habité et les sept climats sont sous mon autorité. » Baçbakanhk
Osmanli Arçivi, Mühimme Defteri, XXVII, p. 256. Ici, la réalité géopolitique s’éclipse au profit
d’un leitmotiv idéologique.
20 Voici la liste des domaines dans l’acte de 1568 : Akdeniz etrafinda olan bilâd-i sipihr-irtifanm
ve Karadeniz cevanibinde bulunan kilâ ü buk ’amn ve nadire-i asr olan Misir ve Sa ‘îd-i a 'lânin
 « LE SULTAN DES DEUX TERRES ET DES DEUX MERS » 53

La présentation de ces régions limitrophes subit encore de changements d ’un docu­

ment à l’autre dans les actes issus des chancelleries de Selim 11 (1566-1574) et Murad
III (1574-1595). Les seuls éléments qu’on retrouve régulièrement dans notre échantillon
sont les principautés-clientes de la Valachie et la Moldavie. Une irrégularité importante
concerne le cas de la Transylvanie. Cette principauté est omise dans les ahdname de
1559, 1562, 1565 et de 1568, soit dans les années où cette principauté était aux mains
du prince Jean II Sigismond Zapolya (1540-1570). Elle ne fait sa réapparition qu’après
la mort du dernier, dans Y ahdname de 1574, et quand le pays est vassalisé, à l’instar des
deux autres principautés danubiennes.21 Quant au beylerbeylicat de Bude, il n ’est même
pas évoqué subrepticement ni dans l’acte de 1568 ni dans celui de 1574, tout comme
celui de Temesvar.

L a titula tu re d u su lta n d a n s les ah d n am e a u x rois d e P ologne, 1525-1577

Nous avons sélectionné quatre ahdname à l’intention des rois de Pologne. Les deux pre­
mières datent de l’époque de Soliman le Magnifique ; le troisième, du règne de Selim II
et le dernier, de celui de Murad III22. Les premières régions citées dans les trois premiers
documents sont les mêmes : la Méditerranée, la mer Noire, la Roumélie et l’Anatolie.
Ensuite, on retrouve le bloc des quatre unités administratives orientales conquises avant
le règne de Süleyman, qui subit de légers changements dans la hiérarchie de l’énuméra­
tion : la Caramanie, le Roum, la Dulkadiriye, le Diyarbakir, suivies du Kurdistan et de
l’Azerbaïdjan. À partir de 1553, Damas et Alep sont citées respectivement en cinquième
et sixième places. La place des trois villes saintes varie dans chaque ordre. Les nouveaux
beylerbeylicats créés à l’époque de Süleyman (ceux de Yémen, de Van, de Buda, de
Temesvar, de Bagdad et de Basra) figurent toujours à la fin de ces trois documents, avec
des changements dans l ’ordre de leur énumération. Les « pays roumains », c ’est-à-dire
les principautés-clientes de la Valachie, la Moldavie et la Transylvanie ainsi que la Tarta-
rie et les steppes kiptchak, sont toujours absents dans la titulature sultanienne des lettres
à l’intention de rois de Pologne. Et cela, pour cause : ces régions étaient l’objet d ’une
rivalité intense entre les deux États dès le XVe siècle, et la Porte s ’abstient de les évoquer
dans les lettres dont l’objet principal était de raffermir l’amitié.

ve Bagdad-i darü s-selâm ve bilâd-i Haleb ve §am 'm ve Bender-i Cidde ve Beytü ’llahi 7-
Haram’in ve Medine-i münewere ve Kuds-i §erif-i lâzimü’l-ihtiramin ve vilâyet-i Yemen ve
Aden ve San ‘a 'nm ve memalik-i Habe$ ve Basra ve Lahsa 'nin ve Kürdistan ’in ve Gürcistan ’in
ve Lûristan ’m ve Van ’in ve De$t-i Kipçak ve diyar-i Tatar ’in ve külliyen vilâyet-i Anadolu ve
Zü ’l-kadriye ve Karaman ’in ve umumen memalik-i Rumeli ve Eflâk ve Bogdan ’in [hakimi].
21 Sur cette procédure, notamment du point de vue diplomatique : S. Papp, Die Verleihungs-, Be-
kràftigungs- und Vertragsurkunden der Osmanenfur Ungarn und Siebenbürgen: Eine quellen-
kritische Untersuchung (Vienne 2003). Pour Yahdname de 1574, c f : Petritsch, Regesten, pp.
253-254.
22 Kolodziejczyk, Ottoman-Polish, pp. 222-224 (1525), pp. 234-238 (1553), pp. 265-268 (1568)
et pp. 270-274 (1577). Cet auteur fait une première analyse de l’énumération territoriale entre
les pages pp. 17-20.
54 GLTNEÇ IÇIKSEL

Par rapport aux traits quasi-réguliers de ces trois actes, adressés aux rois Jagellon,
celui de 1577 apporte un changement23. Désormais, la liste presque stable des actes de
trois premiers quarts du XVIe siècle, en moyen vingt unités d’administration, est consi­
dérablement révisée et augmentée. Dans ce document, la liste commence par la mention
des trois villes saintes, suivies des beylerbeylicats dans la frontière avec les Safavides.
Ensuite la chancellerie évoque les provinces anatoliennes. Après la mention isolée et
unique de l’île de Rhodes, l’interprétation de l’énumération devient difficile. Dans cet
amas jaspé, les localités aussi diverses que la capitale ottomane et la forteresse de La
Goulette sont mentionnées les unes après les autres. Nous pouvons cependant repérer
dans ce recensement désordonné les conquêtes récentes de l’époque de Selim II (Chypre,
Tunis, La Goulette). La grande nouveauté de l ’ahdname de 1577 est l’apparition, dans
cette liste, des steppes kiptchak, de la Valachie, de la Moldavie, ainsi que de la Transylva­
nie à la fin de l’acte. En effet, leur apparition fait sans doute écho que le Roi de Pologne
Étienne Bathory (1576-1586), destinataire de l’acte, est un ancien vassal de la Porte en
qualité de Voïévode de Transylvanie (1571-1576).24

F in s p o litiq u e s e t su b tilités d ip lo m a tiq u es

L’analyse de la titulature dans les actes à l’intention des Habsbourg et des Jagellon révèle
que la composition des listes de pays varie en fonction aussi bien du destinataire que du
contexte et ce, selon des règles bien établies. La comparaison montre que ces différences
sont plus marquées dans la présentation des provinces et vassaux ottomans d ’Europe. La
chancellerie évite de mentionner dans les ahdname les localités susceptibles d ’irriter le
destinataire. Ainsi, le beylerbeylicat de Bude apparaît bien dans les actes à destination
des rois de Pologne, mais ne figure pas dans le document adressé aux Habsbourg. De
même, les steppes kiptchak, le pays de Tatars, la Valachie et la Moldavie font partie des
« Territoires bien gardés » dans la correspondance avec l’empereur, mais disparaissent
dans les ahdname concédés aux Jagellon. Dans les actes adressés aux souverains mi­
toyens en Europe, les représentations des « Pays bien-gardés » commencent par l’énu­
mération des régions orientales - qui donne également à voir le caractère musulman de
l’entité politique ottomane - et aboutissent à un point final avec la mention des frontières
partagées avec le destinataire - ce qui n ’est pas sans rappeler l’esprit de g a za - tout en
omettant pour autant les régions conflictuelles.
En guise de conclusion, nous permettons d’insister à nouveau sur le protocole initial
des actes. Le protocole initial ne consiste pas d ’une formule stéréotypée à la phraséologie
redondante qui ne contiendrait que des idées générales, voire des banalités sans rapport
avec l’objet du dispositif. Les différentes parties de ce protocole initial expriment une
certaine philosophie du pouvoir. L’ordre et le choix des mots ainsi que les emphases

23 Kolodziejczyk, Ottoman-Polish, pp. 270-274.

24 Sur l’élection du dernier au trône de Pologne, on consultera K. Beydilli, Diepolonischen Kô-
nigswahlen und Interregnen von 1572 und 1576 im Lichte osmanischer Archivalien (Munich
1976).
 « LE SULTAN DES DEUX TERRES ET DES DEUX MERS » 55

et jeux rhétoriques sont aussi bien de signifiants que des signifiés. Ainsi, nous pouvons
proposer que la diplomatique est loin d ’être une forme d ’érudition stérile voire obsolète.
Si ce n ’est pas faux quand ces opérations intellectuelles restent purement descriptives, ce
n ’est plus vrai quand la description n ’est qu’une première étape pour passer à l’interpré­
tation. En effet, les formes diplomatiques expriment une vision politique.
En somme, la suscription des actes constituent un aspect important du système de
représentations dont le document est le produit. Ces éléments protocolaires éclairent les
circonstances de la préparation du document et les rapports de force entre le destinateur
et le destinataire. Ces formules fournissent surtout des indices précieux pour l’interpréta­
tion des conceptions sultaniennes de l’espace adm inistratif au seizième siècle. Autrement
dit, ils laissent à voir comment les Ottomans inventoriaient, ordonnaient et cherchaient
à présenter leur empire. Il faut enfin se rappeler que les lettres impériales ne sont pas
écrites uniquement à l’intention d’un monarque étranger. Elles sont souvent recopiées et
préservées dans les recueils épistolaires qui se diffusent dans les chancelleries provin­
ciales et les cercles littéraires. Par ce biais, elles deviennent un instrument de propagande
impérial et un vecteur majeur de l’autoreprésentation politique et territoriale des « Pays
bien-gardés ».

A nnexe I : L’inscription dans les actes pour l’empereur dans les ahdname
du troisième quart du XVIe siècle

L’année de La teneur de l’inscription

l’ahdname

1565 L’honneur des éminents émirs des fidèles de lésus, l’élu parmi les notables de
la nation du Messie, le roi Maximilien, tu es honneur et gloire du peuple romain
et l’empereur des pays allemands et le roi et le prince des pays tchèques, slaves,
croates ainsi que d’autres pays.
1568 Toi, qui es l’honneur des éminents émirs des fidèles de Jésus, l’élu parmi les
grands de la nation du Messie, celui qui veille sur les affaires publiques et la
paix de Nazaréens, celui qui déploie la traîne de la magnificence et de la pompe,
légataire de la gloire superbe, le roi Maximilien, honneur et gloire du peuple
romain et l’empereur des pays allemands et le roi et le prince des pays tchèques,
slaves ainsi que d’autres pays.
1574 Toi, qui es l’honneur et la gloire du peuple romain et l’émir des pays allemands
ainsi que du taifa des tchèques, slaves et croates, la fierté des éminents émirs
des fidèles de Jésus, l’élu parmi les grands de la nation du Messie, celui qui
veille sur les affaires publiques et la paix de Nazaréens, celui qui déploie la
traîne de la magnificence et de la pompe, légataire de la gloire superbe, le roi
Maximilien, que sa vie ici-bas s’accomplisse dans le droit chemin !

Nous constatons que la titulature du « roi de Vienne » développe dans la seconde

moitié du XVIe siècle, au fur et à la mesure que les relations entre les Habsbourg et les
56 GÜNEÇ IÇIK.SEL

Ottomans se stabilisent comme le montre l’inscriptio de Maximilien II. Par rapport à

Vinscriptio du dernier ahdnâme octroyé à l’époque de Süleyman Ier, celle des actes de
1568 et de 1574 est plus élaborée. Il est vrai que Yelkab de Maximilien II est le plus
développé parmi les souverains chrétiens à l’époque de Selim II. Cependant, dans cette
titulature très longue nous constatons l’omission systématique d’un titre, celui du roi de
la Hongrie. En outre, la formule de bénédiction hutimet 'avakibuhu b i’l-hayr, habituelle
dans la correspondance avec les monarques chrétiens n ’apparaît qu’en 1574. Dans ce
dernier document, l’« octroi » de la formule de bénédiction est “compensé” par la dégra­
dation du titre de kral et hakim des pays tchèques, slaves, croates à celui du simple émir.
La titulature de rois de France est succincte par rapport à celle de l’empereur. Cependant,
malgré l’économie dans les louanges, on constate l’attribution le titre d u padichah au roi
de France, une grande distinction car, hormis certains monarques asiatiques - comme
le sultan de Aceh - , ce titre est généralement réservé par la chancellerie ottomane pour
désigner le sultan.

A nnexe II. Trois différentes représentations territoriales des années 1570

Les unités Le registre des L ’ahdname de L ’ahdname du roi

administratives et tevcihat 1568- l’empereur des de Pologne, en
vassales 157425 Habsbourg en 1574 1577
Rumeli X X X
Anadolu X X X
Rûm X X X
Karaman X X X
Diyarbekir X _2ô X
Haleb X X X
Çam X X X
Misr X X X
Zulkadriye X X X
Erzurum X _27 X
Bagdad X X X
Yemen X X X
Budin X _28 X
Basra X X X

25 D’après le sancak tevcihat defteri publié par Metin Kunt: Sancaktan eyalete (Istanbul 1978),
pp. 133-149.
26 Mentionnée dans les ahdname des Habsbourg jusqu’en 1565.
27 Mentionnée uniquement dans l ‘ahdname de 1549.
28 Cf. supra.
 « LE SULTAN DES DEUX TERRES ET DES DEUX MERS » 57

Van X X X
Temeçvar X _29
X
Lahsa X X X
Habeç - X X
Trablus-i garb - _30
X
Kibris X - X
Cezayir-i Bahr-i Sefid X __31
-
Luristan - X X
Kürdistan - X X
Cezayir-i Garb - X X
Gürcistan - X __3 2

Eflak - X X
Bogdan - X X
Erdel - X X

S’il est facile d’expliquer l’absence d ’entités clientes dans le registre des tevcihat
qui n ’ont pas de gouverneurs désignés par le centre comme les pays roumains, géor­
giens ou kurdes. Il en est moins quant à interpréter l’omission de Régences barbaresques
et l’Abyssinie qui avaient, au XVIe siècle leurs beglerbeg. Pour ce qui est l’absence
des beylerbeylicats de Diyarbekir et d’Erzurum ainsi que du Chypre dans Vahdname
de Maximilien II de 1574, la réponse parait être que leur absence dans l’acte de 1568
à partir duquel le copiste a du préparer le nouveau - le Chypre a été conquis de jure en
1573. Nous pouvons en conclusion asserter que la représentation territoriale ottomane se
constituait, au XVIe siècle, des beylerbeylicats (merkezî et salyaneli) en base et des prin­
cipautés clientes. Cet amas était reconfiguré en fonction du destinataire et de la conjonc­
ture politique.

29 Cf. supra.
30 Mentionnée dans l ‘ahdname de 1559.
31 Evoqué antérieurement dans l’épithète du maître des « deux Mers ».
32 Absent également dans les actes antérieurs.
 ISTIMALET:
WHAT DO WE ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT IT?

Elias K olovos *

I s t i m a l e t is A t e r m used v ery frequ ently in O tto m a n ist historiography in order to

describe the Ottoman policy toward their non-Muslim subjects during their early con­
quests, aiming at winning them over.*1 In this paper, I would like to revisit the term,
through research into its exact use/s, and discuss its place and history in the Ottoman po­
litical vocabulary.
The policy o f istimalet has been described by Halil inalcik in 1991, in his paper on
‘The Status o f the Greek Orthodox Patriarch under the Ottomans’ as follows:

... It is now a commonplace that in the early period of their expansion, the Ottomans pur­
sued, primarily in order to facilitate conquest, or to make the indigenous population favorably
disposed, a policy called istimalet. It was intended to win over the population, peasants and
townspeople, as well as military and clerics, by generous promises and concessions, some­
times going beyond the limits of the well-known, tolerant stipulations of Islamic Law concern­
ing non-Muslims who had submitted without resistance. Within this policy of istimalet, the
Ottomans especially during the first transition period, maintained intact the laws and customs,
the status and privileges, that had existed in the pre-conquest times, and what is more unusual,
they incorporated the existing military and clerical groups into their own administrative system
without discrimination, so that in many cases former pronoia-holders and seigneurs in the Bal­
kans were left on their fiefs as Ottoman timar-holders. But the most fundamental and perhaps
the most effective component of the istimalet policy was, from the beginning, the recognition
of the Orthodox church as part of the Ottoman state.. ,.2

For this paragraph, inalcik makes a reference to his seminal paper on the ‘Ottoman
Methods o f Conquest’, published in 1954, where, interestingly, the same historical phe-

* Department of History and Archeology, University of Crete and Foundation for Research and
Technology-Hellas, Institute for Mediterranean Studies.
1 I would like to express my gratitude to Elizabeth Zachariadou, Marinos Sariyannis, and Ekin
Tuçalp Atiyas for their invaluable help in the compilation of this paper.
2 H. Inalcik, ‘The Status of the Greek Orthodox Patriarch Under the Ottomans’, Turcica, 21-22
(1991), 409. Emphasis is mine. Halil inalcik had already written a page concerning the istima­
let in his entry on IA, s.v. ‘Türkler/Osmanhlar’ (H. inalcik)
60 ELIAS KOLOVOS

nomena are described; however, there is no mention o f the policy o f istimalet. inalcik
used then only the term “assimilation”, in order to describe the Christian sipahis who had
entered Ottoman service.
Heath Lowry, in his Nature o f the Early Ottoman State (published 2003),3 expanded
the use o f the term istimalet in his analysis o f an early Ottoman syncretic reality:

Clearly, fifteenth-century Ottoman peasant reality was a far more syncretic and dynamic one
than that seen in the sixteenth century and thereafter. It was typified by an accommodationist
stance vis-à-vis the majority of Christian population, one in which religion was only margin­
ally a barrier to either military or administrative advancement. The present study has suggested
that this policy of istimalet may well have stemmed from the speed of the Ottoman conquests
placing serious strains on the supply of trained military and administrative power. It was a
need which accounted for the large-scale utilization of both Christian peasants and their former
rulers in the expanding Ottoman administration. Typified by a flexible tax system which pre­
served earlier practices, the ensuing new Ottoman order must have looked particularly attrac­
tive to a Christian peasantry long abused during the preceding centuries of Byzantine decline.
It may well have been this accommodationist, indeed syncretic fifteenth-century Ottoman re­
ality, rather than the abundance of an overgrowing influx of Turks, to which we must look for
an explanation of Ottoman success in embracing the multitude of peoples divided by culture,
language, religion, and history.4

Karen Barkey, in her Empire o f Difference (2008), has also theorised the concept of
istimalet as a “strategy for the stabilization o f power”.5
In an encyclopedia entry on Istimalet, written by Mücteba îlgürel for the Diyanet
Vakfi îslâm Ansiklopedisi,Nol. 23 (2001)6, istimalet is defined as follows: “ [the] name att­
ributed to the accommodationist policy o f conquest the Ottomans applied [Osmanhlar’m
uyguladigi meylettirici ve uzlaçtircici fetih siyaseti için kullamlan tabir]”. îlgürel used
the following terms, following, as he says, the Ottoman chronicles, in order to explain is­
timalet: “halki ve ôzellikle gayri müslim tebaayi gôzetme, onlara karçi hosgôrülü davran-
ma, raiyyetperverlik” (love for the reaya). It is interesting to note that îlgürel attributes
the origins o f the Ottoman policy o f istimalet in the Holy Q ur’an, where the expression
“bringing hearts together [for Islam]” (but expressed as müellefe-i kulûb) was used for
the expenditures o f alms to the new converts to the faith (9:60):7

3 H. W. Lowry, The Nature o f the Early Ottoman State (Albany 2003), 91-92.
4 Ibid., 112. Istimalet is the central analytical tool of Heath Lowry in his Fifteenth Century Otto­
man Realities: Christian Peasant Life on the Aegean Island o f Limnos (Istanbul 2002).
5 K. Barkey, Empire o f Difference: The Ottomans in Comparative Perspective (New York 2008),
87-88; she refers to the paper by H. inalcik on ‘The Status of the Greek Orthodox Patriarch un­
der the Ottomans’.
6 TDVIA, s .v. ‘Istimalet (M. Ilgürel) with extensive bibliography; however, Ilgürel fails to make
a reference to Halil inalcik’s description of istimalet in the ÎA. ilgürel had written a little earlier
on ‘Osmanli Siyasetinde istimalet Siyaseti’, XII. Türk Tarih Kongresi, Vol. 3 (Ankara 1999),
941.
7 For this understanding of the Qur’anic term, see Dictionary o f Qur ’anic Usage, ‘q-l-b’ (E. M.
Badawi and M. A. Haleem), Brill Online, 2014.
 iSTlMALET 61

Zakah expenditures are only for the poor and for the needy and for those employed to collect
[.zakah\ and for bringing hearts together [for Islam] and for freeing captives [or slaves] and
for those in debt and for the cause of Allah and for the [stranded] traveller - an obligation [im­
posed] by Allah.8

Before moving to an examination o f the actual sources concerning istimalet, let us

look also at the meanings given to the word in the dictionaries. According to Redhouse,
istimale means 1) leaning, inclining; 2) gaining goodwill, coaxing. (According to the
New Redhouse: “a trying to persuade; a gaining goodwill, a coaxing”). According to
Zenker, istimalet means (in French) “action de se pencher, de s’incliner vers q. ch.; de
chercher à se concilier, à se rendre favorable q. qn.; caresse, flatterie, conciliation, conso­
lation”; istimalet etmek or vermek: “se pencher, être porté vers q. ch. ou q. qn., chercher
a se concilier, a se rendre favorable q. qn., caresser, flatter q. qn.”. Meninski, in the se­
venteenth century, had explained istimalet (vermek) as following (in French): “caresser,
consoler, foulager, donner des bonnes paroles, encourager”.9
Moving now from the dictionaries and historiography to the actual sources, I can lo­
cate the earliest reference to istimalet in the Ottoman chronicles o f the fifteenth century,
which, however, describe the practice already in connection with the first Ottoman con­
quests o f the fourteenth century. Actually, when describing the very first Ottoman con­
quest in Europe, the conquest o f Tzymbe, Oruç Bey narrates that the Ottomans did not
harm the infidels o f the neighbouring areas in the peninsula o f Gallipoli; on the contrary,
they won them over as allies, promising that they and their families would be safe and
sound (pi yôrenün kâfilerini incitmediler, istimaletler virdiler. Emn ü eman içinde oldilar.
Hatunlarim ve dahi oglanlarim ve kizlarmi be-gayet ho§ dutdilar. Cimnik k a l’asinun
kâfirleri bu gazilere miiteffik oldilar).10 In the Tzymbe narrative o f Açikpaçazade, there
is no reference to istimalet, but to the possibility that the Ottomans provided them with
benefits (hisari aldilar kâfirlerini incitmediler belki kâftrlerine dahi ihsanlar etdiler).
In their narratives o f early Ottoman history, all the Ottoman chronicles o f the fifteenth
century include a lot o f similar examples o f political practices o f ‘carrot’ as opposed to
political practices o f ‘stick’; however, with the aforementioned exception o f Oruç Bey
and some other exceptional references,11 they do not use the word istimalet. In the light

8 Halil Inalcik, in his paper ‘Osmanli dôneminde Balkanlar Tarihi üzerinde yeni araçtirmalar’,
read at the Conference of Dil ve Tarih-Cografya Fakiiltesi in 1996, published much later in
GAMER I, 1 (2012), 1-10, also makes a reference to the policy of telif-i kulûb in the Holy
Qur’an as identical to the policy of istimalet.
9 Franciscus à Mesgnien Meninski, Thesaurus Linguarum Orientalium (Istanbul 2000), 202.
10 Oruç Beg Tarihi, ed. Necdet Ôztürk (Istanbul 2007), 20.
11 In the case of another conquest episode in Thrace, Açikpaçazade narrates that after the
demolition of a fortress (named afterwards Tanri Yikdugi), the Ottomans left the neighbouring
people in their places again with promises (halkim girii istimaletleyerinde kodular). Die altos-
manische Chronikdes 'Âçikpaçazâde, ed. F. Giese (Leipzig 1929), 55. Cf. also Anonim Osman­
li Kronigi (1299-1512), ed. Necdet Ôztürk (Istanbul 2000), 31: Murad Han Gazi ol hisarun
kâfirleriyle ahdleçüp, avrati ve oglanlariyla istimalet virdi. Girii yirlerine gônderdi. §imdi ol
hisara Tanri Yikdugi dirler. Oruç explains in connection with the same episode that the people
62 ELIAS KOLOVOS

o f this observation, it should be discussed whether we are justified in using the term isti-
malet as a term o f early Ottoman political thought.
On the other hand, and contrary to what one would expect as a reader o f the historiog­
raphy on istimalet, the word is actually very frequently used in the later Ottoman sources.
Two hundred years after Tzymbe, during the war for the conquest o f Cyprus, an order
from the Miihimme Defterleri (the Imperial Registers o f Important Affairs), dated 18 Zil-
kade 911 HA April 1570, refers in detail to the istimalet hiikmi given to the reaya o f the is­
land by Sultan Selim II, promising them that, if they did not side with the Venetians, they
would keep their properties (including their timars) under the Ottomans (cezire-i mez-
bureniin reayasina istimalet içün mukaddema gônderilen hiikm-i çerifüm mukarrerdür.
Buyurdum ki: Vardukda, bu babda tamam tedarük üzre olup sabika gônderilen istimalet
hiikmi mucebince cezireniin reayasina girii kendü canibünden mektublar gônderüp her
birineyeni istimalet viriip §ôyle ki; “diiçmen tarafma meyilleri ve muavenetleri olmayup
Südde-i Sadetiim canibine togrihk iizre tevecciihleri mukarrer ola, inçaallah fethi miiyes-
ser oldukda her birisi m utasarrif olduklari timarlari ve evleri ve sayir emlâki ile m u a f u
miisellem olup bir nesneleri ellerinden almmayup...).12 In this case, it is obvious that is­
timalet has developed to be clearly a political term, which described a carefully designed
political practice, with legal expression also in a document o f safety (istimalet hiikmi).
It is perhaps no coincidence that the Ottoman bureaucrat Feridun Bey included in his
Miinçeatü ’s -selâtin, the treatise par excellence on Ottoman chancellery practice (present­
ed to Sultan Murad III in 1575), a list o f imperial documents categorised as istimaletnam-
es.13 These documents were addressed to semi-autonomous leaders such as the Sharif of
Mecca, the Han o f the Crimea, Kurdish leaders like Çeref Han, and other people in power
in Azerbaijan, Dagestan, Georgia, and Transylvania, as well as to Ottoman pashas on
campaign such as Ôzdemiroglu Osman Pasha, the Governor o f Damascus Hasan Pasha,

were held as prisoners and then were liberated as allies (varup ol hisari goriip esirlerini alup
aghyla, kiziyla, dahi mallariyla cem idüp getiirdiler. Amma hisarun halkmi ahd ii peyman ile
azad idüp, girü yerlü yerine gônderdiler). Oruç Beg Tarihi, 27.
12 12 Numarab Miihimme Defteri (978-979/1570-1572), Ankara 1996, No. 19. According to are-
port of the beylerbey of Egypt, quoted in an order of 1 Rebiytilevvel 967/1 December 1559, the
reaya of Egypt were comforted with a promise of tax justice in the near future (Hele bu sene
üzerinüzde maktu olan mall eda idün; sene-i âtiyede açaga virilmesi lâzim olan ziyadeler ber-
vech-i adalet gôrile diyü istimalet virilmekle reaya müteselli-i hâtir oldilaf). 3 Numarali Mii­
himme Defteri (966-968/1558-1560), Ankara 1993, No. 541. In another case, the sancakbey of
Semendire comforts the reaya with the promise that the oppressive taxmen will be reported to
the Sultan (ba ‘zi haracîler ve koyun hakcilar reayadan ziyade alup zulm ü taaddi eyledükleri
ecilden reaya perakende olup; “Taife-i mezbure arzolunsun. ” diyü istimalet virmekle karar it-
dürilüp). 7 Numarali Mühimme Defteri (975-976/1567-1569), Ankara 1999, No. 2019.
13 These document samples from the Münçeatüs ’selâtîn were republished separately by Vey-
sel Ôz, ‘Ferîdûn Bey’in Münçeât Mecmuasi’nda Bulunan îstimâletnâmeler ve Osmanli’da
Istimâlet Siyaseti’, Yiiksek Lisans Tezi, Marmara Üniversitesi, Istanbul 2002. This thesis inc­
ludes extensive quotations as to the uses of the word istimalet in Ottoman historiography. Ho­
wever, the author does not make any distrinction in his analysis between Ottoman history and
historiography.
 ÎSTlMALET 63

the Governor o f Diyarbekir Derviç Pasha, the Grand Vizier Mehmet Pasha, or the Vizier
Sinan Pasha.14 The existence o f documents named as such is corroborated by entries in
the contemporary Mühimme Defter 1eri: Sultan Selim II, for example, was ordered by his
father, Siileyman, to send istimalet letters (istimalet-gûne ahkâm-i §erife) to the Gover­
nors o f Van, Diyarbekir, and Baghdat, as well as to the beys o f Kurdistan, in order to sa­
feguard the passes in their districts (hâliyâ Van ve Diyârbekr ve Bagdâd beglerbegilerine
ve anlara tabi olan cümle Kürdistân begleri kullaruma miiekkid istimalet-gûne ahkâm-i
çerife yazilup her biri sancaklarmda vaki olan derbendleri ve sair mürur u ubur olmcak,
mevâzi ‘i onat vechile hifz idüp anun gibi isyan üzre olan ehl-i fesaddan bir canibe ha-
reket olur ise her biri d e f ü refinde ve geregi gibi haklarindan gelinmek babinda enva-i
mesai-i cemile zuhûra getiireler).15
It is interesting to note that istimalet, as a policy o f ‘carrot’, was, o f course, replaced
by the ‘stick’ when the subjects did not fall for it: during the Cyprus War, in another
example from the Mühimme Defteri, when revolts erupted in the Western Balkans, the
beylerbey o f Rumelia was ordered to try to quiet down the Albanians with promises and
coaxing (istimalet ü müdara ile: ‘the carrot’);16 but if they do not fall for it, he should
eliminate five to ten villages in order to make all the others quieten down (‘the stick’) (Ar-

14 For these ‘marginal’ provinces of the Ottoman Empire and their rulers in relation to the Otto­
man administration, see the excellent study by Suraiya Faroqhi, The Ottoman Empire and the
World Around It (London and New York 2004), 75-84. The foreign policy of the Ottomans,
and especially the foreign policy of Selim II, has recently been thoroughly examined by Güneç
Içiksel in his doctoral dissertation: G. Içiksel, ‘La politique étrangère ottomane dans la seconde
moitié du XVIe siècle : le cas du règne de Selîm II (1566-1574)’, unpublished Ph.D. disserta­
tion, École des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales, n.d. The issuing of istimaletnames might
have been already a practice from the reign of Selim I. See esp. p. 125, fn. 6 concerning the
issuing of 30 istimaletnames by the reisülkiittab Haydar Çelebi addressed to the Kurdish beys.
However, the source of this information is again Feridun Bey’s Münçeat.
15 3 Numarah Mühimme Defteri (966-968/1558-1560), Ankara 1993, No. 329. Cf. a similar order
granting istimalet to the beys of Kurdistan, quoted by Güneç Içiksel, ‘La politique étrangère ot­
tomane’, 67, fh. 10 (source: KK 888, fol. 157).
16 Definitions of müdara in the dictionaries: J. Th. Zenker, Türkisch-Arabisch-Persisches Hand-
wôrterbuch (Hildesheim 1967), 830: “Mudârât, mudârâ: action de flatter, de cajoler; affection,
soumission simulée, douceur feinte, manière doucereuse; dissimulation; Mudârât etmek: flat­
ter, cajoler, dissimuler”; Meninski, Thesaurus Linguarum Orientalium, 4504-4505: “Müdara:
Humilitas, humanitas, civilitas, mollis ac blanda tractatio; dissimulatio; müdara etmek: dissi-
mulare, blandiri; ol vilayetün kâfiri ile müdara ile zindegânî eyler idi: Cum infidelibus subditis
illius regionis blande vitam ducebat, seu dissimulanda & leniter eos tractando vivebar; Müda-
rat: Concordia, blandi mores, lenitas, assabilitas, seu lenis & benigna tractatio; Acht. Dissimu­
latio; müdarat etmek: dissimulare; au tut Gol. Circumvenire, faller, & benigne, comiter, leni-
terque tractare, blandiri. (French:) dissimuler, feindre, traiter doucement, à l ’amiable”. Further
research is necessary on the use of terms synonymous with istimalet in the Ottoman political
vocabulary, like müdara. Keith Hopwood, in his paper on ‘Mudara’, in A. Singer and A. Cohen
(eds), Aspects o f Ottoman History: Papers from CIEPOIX, Jerusalem (Jerusalem 1994), 154-
161, think that as a political term mudara must have been “the creation of the later chronicler,
including Açikpaçazade and Neçri” (p. 160).
64 ELIAS KOLOVOS

navud taifesi istimalet ü müdara ile islah olunmayup aralarinda be§-on pare karyenün
haklarindan gelinürse sayirleri iskât olunurdi)}1 A similar practice was registered again
in a case of another village in Albania: if they quiet down, handle them with istimalet, if
not, suppress them (karye-i mezbure ahalisi istimalet ile itaat ü inkiyad iizre olup isyan
u tugyan iizre olmadart feragat idiip islahi miimkiin olursa onat vech ile istimalet viriip
itaat ii inkiyad itdüresin. §ôyle ki; istimalet ile itaat ü inkiyadlari miimkiin olmaz ise,
müçariinileyhün karye-i mezburede sakin olan akriba vil taallûkatin ihrac ittiikden sonra
emr-i sabikum muktezasinca haklarindan gelesin.)]i
So far, I have observed that istimalet as a word was used systematically not in early
but rather in later Ottoman history; moreover, the sources examined below will show that
istimalet as an Ottoman policy of ‘carrot” was not restricted, as we would expect, only
to the non-Muslim subjects of the Sultans: the Ottomans had often to apply an accom-
modationist policy towards their Muslim subjects as well.
Mustafa Selanikî, for example, in his narrative of a Celali rebellion which had erupted
in Anatolia in 1596, writes that the imperial government had sent orders in order to win
over the local population, against the rebels, “with goodwill” (hiisn-i rey ii tedbir ile
memleket halkina istimalet ile ahkâm yazilup gônderildi).19 Kâtip Çelebi also describes
how the famous Celali rebel Tavil had been appointed as beylerbey, in order to win him
over (reis-i eçkiya olan Tavil’e istimalet içün beylerbeyilik emri irsal olunmagin kabul
eyledigi haberi geldi).20 According to Naima, the bandit Katircioglu was persuaded by
promises (istimaletiyle) to stop attacking the caravans on their way for the Hajj and side
with the Ottomans (istim aletiyleyam m iz ahp çerrin iimmet-i M uham m ed’den d e f eyledik
‘sen bir bahadir yigitsin rehzenlik Sana ayiptir, padiçahimizdan senin için bir §ey rica
edelim ').171892021 Naima, again, describes how some troublemakers in Anatolia after the death
of Fatih Mehmet were pardoned (afv ü istimalet) and assigned new posts in the military
(Giinahlarimiz ajv olunur ise hizmet-i padiçahîde damen dermiyan ederiz ” deyii arzihal
ettikleri paye-i serir-i alâya arz zimmnda “Meza ma meza afv u istimalet olunmak mii-
nasibdir ” deyii kelimat-i çefaatamizi derc etmegin, afv buyurulup miiteayyin olanlarin

17 12 Numarali Miihimme Defteri, No. 182 (17 Çevval 978/14 March 1571). For the revolts, see
Phokion Kotzageorgis, ‘E7iava0xaxiKd Kivijpaxa axqv EkA-Tyvnci) xspaôvriao xov 16o aicbva kou
OGcopaviKéç ïrnyéç: pia 7cp(bxr| 7tpoasyyicjTi [Revolutionary movements in the Greek mainland
in the 16th century and Ottoman sources]’, K 0 ' IlaveXkrpuo laxopmô Nvvèôpio, 16-18 Maîov
2008 & KH' naveXXrjvio IcrtopiKÔ Zvvéôpio (Mépoç B ), 25-27 Maîov 2007, llpaKnK& [29th
Panhellenic History Conference, 16- 18 May 2008 & 28th Panhellenic History Conference
(Part B), 25 - 27 May 2007, Proceedings], Thessaloniki 2009, 21-31. For other cases of asso­
ciation between istimalet ü müdara see 6 Numarali Mühimme Defteri, 972/1564-1565 (Anka­
ra 1995), Nos. 1130 and 1132; 7 Numarali Mühimme Defteri, 975-976/1567-1569, III (Ankara
1999), Nos. 2553, 2558, 2588, and No. 2763.
18 6 Numarali Mühimme Defteri (972/1564-1565), 1:410.
19 Selânikî Mustafa Efendi, Tarih-i Selânikî, ed. M. ipçirli (Istanbul 1989), 581.
20 Fezleke, fol. 110b.
21 Naîmâ Mustafa Efendi, Târih-i Na ‘îmâ, ed. M. ipçirli (Ankara 2007), III: 1228. Quoted by Oz,
‘Osmanh’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 77.
 iSTÎMALET 65

ba'zina bôlük agaliklari tevcih olunup hil'atler ile istimaletten sonra....illetlerin izale-
den sonra cümlesin iki kisim ettiler ba ‘zisin Kütahya ’da Nasuh Pa§a ya gônderdiler).22
In another example, according to a Miihimme order dated 28 Çevval 1040/30 May 1631,
after a raid by pirates on the island o f Midilli (Gk. Mytilene) and a revolt by the soldiers
and the people o f the island, the kapudan pa§a and the kadi were ordered to give every­
body promises (istimalet), in order to quieten down the revolt (her birisine istimalet
virüp def-i ihtilâl eyleyesiz).23
In some cases, we can see that the policy o f istimalet was applied through the distri­
bution o f robes o f honour (h il’at): Ibn Kemal, for example, narrates that Prince Mustafa,
the son o f Mehmed the Conqueror, during an expedition to Karaman, distributed to the
tribal leaders o f the area very precious robes of honour (h il’at) and promised a lot to the
leaders o f his army in order to persuade them to fight (boybeylerini... doylayub her birine
fa h ir hil ’atler verdi; ceri çeribaçlarina lu tf ile sôyleyüb savasta kandurdi vafir istimaletler
verdi).24 On 5 Rebiyiielevel 967/5 December 1559, in another example, from the Mii­
himme Defterleri, the Imperial Council ordered Turgud Pasha, the beylerbey o f Trablus
in Libya, to persuade the Arab tribes in his province to form an alliance. More specifi­
cally, robes o f honour were sent with imperial orders to every Arab Shaikh “as a sign
o f goodwill (istimalet) ” (meijayih-i Urbana her birine mufassal istimalet için ahkâm-i
çerife ile hil ’at-i hümayimum gônderilmiçtir).25 M ustafa Selanikî, again, mentions in his
Chronicle that the Ottomans sent to the Han o f the Crimea Gazi Giray an istimaletname
together with a robe o f honour and a decorated sword ( Tatar Han-i Gazi Giray Han ve
serdar-i âli hazretlerine $em§ir-i zerrin ve hil'at-i fahire ve istimaletname ile gidiip...).2627
And Hezarfen Hiiseyin Efendi explains in his Memoir (Telhisii ’l-beyan) that “presents”
(,istimaletler) were necessary especially for the governors o f the frontiers; the Sultans
should sent every year to them robes o f honour, swords, and horses, in order to reinforce
the allegiance o f the Muslim armies (serhadlerde olan beglerbeglere riayet ve istimalet
lâzimdir. Faraza sene be sene taraf-i padiçahîden hil ‘at ve kiliç gônderilüp, birkaç at
gônderilse asker-i islâma k u w e t olup ve âdaya zaaf-i kalb hâsil olurdu).21
Moreover, the sources show that istimalet was also - and maybe more than anything
else - a policy o f gentle persuasion o f the Ottoman soldiers. The history o f Oruç Bey
describes how, for example, during the Hungarian invasion o f 1443, the volunteers of
Rumelia did not show up at the critical battle because their leader Tur(a)han Bey had
tried to persuade them gently (istimalet) to participate in the campaign, giving them the

22 Târih-iNa'îmâ, ed. îpçirli, 11:715. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 78.
23 85 Numarah Mühimme Defteri, 1040-1041 (1042)/1630-1631 (1632), Ankara 2002, No. 493.
24 Ibn Kemal, Tevârih-i Âl-i Osman, VII. Defter (tenkidli transkripsyori), ed. Çerafettin Turan,
(Ankara 1957), 327.
25 3 Numarali Miihimme Defteri, 966-968/1558-1560 (Ankara 1993), No. 579. Cf. also Fezleke,
51 a, where robes of honour are sent together with an istimaletname. Robes of honour to the Ot­
toman conquerors of Chania in ibid, 260a.
26 Tarih-i Selânikî, ed. ipçirli, 769. Quoted by Qz, ‘Osmanh’da istimalet Siyaseti’, 45.
27 Hezarfen Hiiseyin Efendi, Telhîsü’l-Beyân Fî Kavânîn-i Âl-i Osmân, ed. S. tlgürel (Ankara
1998), 113. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanli’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 45.
66 ELIAS KOLOVOS

false impression that they would encounter only a small bunch of infidels; this, however,
resulted in their not showing up for the battle at all (Turhan Begyoldayhk itmeyüp akinci-
lara istimalet virüp cevablayup didi kim: Bunlar bir avuç kâftrdür, bunlari tagidup sonra
varup her birinüz çiftünüz süregidüp varun diyiip, akmcilara bu istimaleti virüp akincilar
ve tovcalar bu haberi iyidüp varamayup Kasim Paya yalunuz kalup).2i The same history
o f Oruç Bey narrates, in another example, that during the siege o f Moton (Gk. Methoni)
in 1500, the beylerbey Sinan Bey proclaimed to his soldiers that the Sultan promised
them a permission (istimalet) to plunder in the name o f God and the Prophet. “On hearing
this promise, the Muslim soldiers marched to the battle” (beglebegi Sinân Beg münadi
idüp çagirdi kim, padiyah b ap içün Allah yolina ve Hazret-i Risalet sallâllahu aleyhi ve
sellem aykina yagm a diyüp, münadiler her tarafdan çagirdilar. Ehl-i îslâm leykeri dahi
bu istimaleti iyidüp yürüdiler).2829 According to Neçrî, Sultan Murad I, during his campa­
ign against Karaman, made “good promises” (va ‘de-i hasene) o f istimalet to every one
o f his soldiers, in order to persuade them to fight for him (hünkâr dahi leykerine istimalet
idüp, her birine va ‘de-i hasene idüp, cümle gaziler dahi ikdam-i belig gôsterüp, hünkâr a
i ‘tikad virdiler).30 Promises o f istimalet were also given by the Ottomans to the soldiers
o f their enemies, as in the case o f the conquest o f the fortress o f Viçegrad, when Ibrahim
Pasha by this method persuaded the soldiers o f the enemy to fight with the Ottoman side
(Sabika Ibrahim Paya istimaleti ile asker-i Islâma mülhak olup agir ulûfeler ile mer ‘i
olan Frenkleri gôrüp bunlar dahi béni nev ‘ine ittibaen gelip padiyaha bende oldular).3132
Counter-promises o f istimalet were also given by the opponents o f the Ottomans. It is
interesting to note that in the same passage concerning the siege o f Moton we examined
above, Oruç mentions that the Christian priests had spread the following words o f en­
couragement (istimalet) to the defenders o f Moton: “Do not fear. Nobody can conquer
this fortress” (keyiyleri, batrikleri, kasisleri, ruhbanlan istimalet virüp korman diyü bu
kal ’ayi kimesne alimaz diyü sôylerlerdî)?2
In some cases, istimalet meant that the soldiers were promised salary increases. For
example, when Sinan Pasha was enlisting in 1568 soldiers in Egypt in preparation for his
Yemen campaign, he gave them, according to his report to the Sultan, promises o f salary
increases (terakki vü istimalet) in order to persuade them to enrol (atlu vü piyade bin

28 Oruç Beg Tarihi, 63-64. Cf. also ibid., 74 and 116, with the same meaning of ‘permission’.
29 Oruç Beg Tarihi, 201. Cf. an order dated 16 Çaban 972/17 February 1565 to an akmci bey in
Rumelia to prepare his enlisted soldiers for the campaign, encouraging them to raid the terri­
tory of the infidels and look for booty (hidmetde veyoldaylikda bulunalar ve zikrolunan akmci
kullaruma geregi gibi istimalet viresin ki, kefere vilâyetine akin salinup toyumluklar olunmaga
niyet olunmiydur), 6 Numarah Miihimme Defteri (972/1564-1565) (Ankara 1995), No. 816.
30 Mevlânâ Mehmet Neçrî, Cihânnümâ (6. Kisim: Osmanli Tarihi (687-890U288-1485), ed. N.
Ôztürk (Istanbul 2008), 104. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 70.
31 Târih-i Na'imâ, 1:293, quoted in Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da îstimâlet Siyaseti’, 74.
32 Oruç Beg Tarihi, 201. Cf. Tarih-i Selânikî, ed. Ipçirli, 121 (promises given to the Ottoman sol­
diers of Ozdemiroglu Osman Paça by his opponents in the Caucasus [asker-i islâma istimalet-
ler ile nüvaziyler idüp}). Also, cf. Fezleke, 259a, referring to Venetian istimaletnames given to
the besieged Ottomans in Chania.
 ISTÎMALET 67

nefer mikdari ancak yazüup terakki vü istimalet virmekle gitmege razi olup).33 Naima,
in his History, describes this practice as “promise o f money” (bezl-i mal ile istimalet):
this is how the Vizier Mere Hiiseyin Pasha had tried to quieten down his officers who
were preparing for mutiny (ye kul taifesinden istiç 'ar ettikçe anlardan ba ‘z i bi-edeb hane
hareket his eyledikçe iç-hazineden bezl-i mal ile istimalet gôsterirdi. Bu suretle Yeniçeri
oda-baçilarindan ba ‘zi miiteayyin zorbalari kendine tabi edip...) .34Naima, again, narra­
tes that it was through the spending o f money that Abaza Pasha o f Erzurum tried to enrol
soldiers in his cause after the execution o f Sultan Osman II (Abaza dahi K alavun’un
leçkerini istimalet ve bezl-i mal ile kendiye tabi ve leçkerine zam eyledi).35
In the same vein, Kâtip Çelebi, describing an argument between the Istanbul and
the provincial sipahis concerning who was going to have the right o f collection o f the
gulamiye (the collecting fee for the cizye) in 1603/4, gives a definition o f istimalet as an
“important thing during a campaign, in order to keep the soldiers in hope for victory”
(Çün ôbür tarafda kesret olup ve seferler esnasinda istimalet mühim idi, iktiza eyledi ki,
ekser içün hiikm-i kiill vardir diyii galib tar afin memulüne miisaade oluna.)?6 Further
down in his book, Kâtip Çelebi mentions an istimaletname as a document promising help
to the defenders o f the fortress o f Istolni Belgrad in Hungary (Serdar miisavereden sonra
Istolni-Belgrad’da tabur üzerine gitmegi mukarrer idiip, “dônüçde imdada yetiçirüz”
diyii istimaletname virdi).3738
In the light o f the above references, I would argue that the word istimalet was used
primarily to describe more generally ‘encouragement’ o f the soldiers by promises and
concessions, in order to persuade them to fight. In the summer o f 1565, for example, dur­
ing the M alta campaign, the Imperial Council in Istanbul issued an order asking Vizier
M ustafa Pasha to send information about the siege. In the final clauses of the dispositio,
the Vizier was ordered the following: “to encourage the Islamic zeal o f the army and
drive the Muslim gazis to victory against the infidels” (dîn gayretine ve îslâm hamiyetine
geregi gibi istimalet viriip guzat-i miislimini kefere-i fecereye tegaliib itdürüp)?%A few
days later, Mustafa Pasha informed the Imperial Council about his success in capturing
the fort o f St Elmo, Turgut Reis dying as a martyr in the battle. According to the ferman,
Mustafa Pasha was ordered “to encourage with promises” his generals, the janissaries,
and the other soldiers (ümerayla yeniçeri kullaruma ve sayir asakir-i fevz-m e ’s eriime
geregi gibi istimalet viresin).39

33 7 Numarali Miihimme Defteri (975-976/1567-1569) (Ankara 1999), No. 2248 (19 Rebiyülahir
976/11 September 1568).
34 Târih-iNa'îmâ, 11:509. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da îstimâlet Siyaseti’, 51.
35 Târih-i Na ‘îmâ, 11:548. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 51.
36 Fezleke, fol. 92b; copied in Târîh-i Naima, 1:377-379.
37 Fezleke, fol. 61b.
38 6 Numarali Mühimme Defteri (972/1564-1565) (Ankara 1995), No. 1423 (17 Zilhicce 972/16
July 1565). Cf. Fezleke, vr. 33b: Mukabele-ipadiçahîde duran viizera ilerii varup safari tertib
ve askere istimalet ü gayret virmekle cenge tahriz ü takrib itdikden sonra girii geliip padi^ah-i
Islâm ’a ahvali i ‘lâm iderlerdi.
39 6 Numarali Miihimme Defteri (972/1564-1565), Vol. II (Ankara 1995), No. 1479 (issued on 29
68 ELIAS KOLOVOS

According to Naima, before the battle o f Mezôkeresztes (1596), the viziers in the en­
tourage o f the Sultan were sent around the camp to encourage the soldiers with istimalet
(Giderek ceng kiziçip mukabele-i padiçahîde olan vilzera ileriye vanp saflari tertip ve
askere istimalet ve gayret vermekle cenge tahriz u tergib ettikten sonra gelip Padi$ah-i
îslâm 'a ahvali i ‘lâm ederlerdi).40 Similarly, during the siege o f Baghdat, Hafiz Pasha
went around the trenches to encourage the soldiers with istimalet (Hafiz Pa$a metrisde
[siper] yatip kalkip askere in ‘am u ihsan ederdi. Ve zâbitlere ve nefere hadden efzun isti-
maletler ve riayetler eylerdi).41 Murad IV him self also encouraged his soldiers during the
siege o f Erevan, at the same time opening his purse for those who fought bravely or had
lost their horses during the battle (.Revan Muhasarasi cenginde padiçah hazretleri bizzat
ayak üzere damen dermiyan durup altin ve guruç keselerin agzi açilip meydana dôkülüp
ba§ getirenlere kirkar guruç, ati helâk olanlara elliçer filori bahçiç verip ‘Koman kurd-
larim gayret vaktidir çehbazlarim ’deyi istimaletler verip in ‘am u ihsam ebr-i nisan gibi
mebzul-i firavân etmiçler idi).42
Neçrî uses istimalet with the meaning o f ‘encouragement’ when referring to the
speeches o f Mehmed I before his battle against Kara Yahya (sultan yam ndaki serverler-
ine istimalet idüp, eyitti ki: Ey beniim yigitleriim! Vaktidiir ki bunlari, kara karga misai
tagidup, askerin helâk idelüm: “My braves! The time has come to disperse their soldiers
like black crows and kill them”), and before the battle against his brother Isa (Sultan,...
Rum serverlerine istimalet idüp, ‘ha merdanelerüm! Gôreyim sizi ne vecihle hareketler,
§ecaatler gôsterürsüz ’diyüp, istimaletler virdi: “My braves: Let me see now how you are
going to fight and show your valour”).43 According to Oruç, Sultan Murad I encouraged
the volunteering raiders who did not want to fight the infidels in Thrace with the follow­
ing words o f istimalet'. akmcilara istimalet virüp cevablaçub didi kim: Bunlar bir avuç
kafirdür, bunlari dagidup sonra varup her biriniz çiftünüz süregidün diyüp: “These are
only a bunch o f infidels, let’s disperse them and afterwards you can go to your lands and
continue to cultivate them”.44
Kâtip Çelebi cites the exact content o f an istimalet speech o f Hasan Pasha, delivered
in order to encourage his soldiers before a battle o f the Long War with the Habsburgs:

He encouraged everybody with a speech: “Hey, Gazi$\ Do not be afraid of the numbers of
the infidels. God’s favour is on our side. Whenever the infidels tried to light the flame of dis-

Zilhicce/28 July). In the same vein, istimalet was also used again during the Cyprus War, when
the Sultan ordered the Vizier Mustafa Pasha to do his best “for the conquest of the island, for
the defeat of the enemies, and for the order of the army of Islam, his zeal for istimalet, gaza and
cihad (cezirenün feth u teshiri ve âdanun kahr u tedmiri ve asakir-i îslâm ahvalinün nizam u
intizami ve hiisn-i istimalet ve gaza vü cihada tergibi babinda enva-i mesai-i cemileniiz vücûda
getürile). 12 Numarah Mühimme Defteri, no. 34 (22 Ramazan 978/17 February 1571).
40 Târih-i Na ‘îmâ, 1:114. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da îstimâlet Siyaseti’, 70.
41 Târih-iNa'îmâ, 11:581. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da Istimâlet Siyaseti’, 70.
42 Târih-i Na'îmâ, 11:815. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 71.
43 Neçrî, Cihânnümâ, 169 and 196. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 71.
44 Oruç Beg Tarihi, 201. Quoted by Ôz, ‘Osmanh’da istimâlet Siyaseti’, 72.
 ISTiMALET 69

order amongst the Muslims, Almighty God put out that flame himself. Let me see you: let’s
fight bravely for the pride of Religion. Our casualties will be happy martyrs. All of you! Get
ready and prepared, with your rifles, guns, and all your instruments of war. When the miser­
able infidels start marching against us, fight them bravely. I hope that our plans will prevail!”
(ve her birine istimâlet viriip, "ey gaziler! Küffarin çoklugundan üçenmen. Inçaallahfursat bi-
zimdir. Her bar ki küffar ehl-i islâm üzerine nar-i fitne ikad itse Hak te ‘alâ kendi lûtfundan ol
âteçi sôyündürür. Gôreyim sizi. Din ugruna dilirane duruçup ceng idelim. Olenlerimiz çehid
ve gaziler saiddir. Her biriniz kollu kolunuzda hâzir-baç olup top ve tüfeng ve edevat-i cengle
müheyya durum. Küffar-i hâksar yürüdükde merdane deprenin. Ümiddir ki, bu tedbirleri dahi
rast gelmeye " diyü sôyledi).45

A final example, again from Kâtip Çelebi, shows how istimâlet was actually addres­
sed both to the soldiers and the prospective subjects o f the Ottomans during the Cretan
War. Deli Hüseyin Pasha, the general o f the Cretan campaign, had gently persuaded his
soldiers to follow him into the conquered fortress o f Merambello, where he granted pri­
vileges to the conquered reaya:

When Hüseyin Pasha leamt the news of the conquest [of the fortress of Merambello], he moved
very fast from Rethymno to Candia, in three days. After making promises [and/or presents] to
his soldiers, he marched to the aforementioned fortress [of Merambello] in four days. There, he
made promises [and/or gave protection] to the reayas. The infidels had a fortress on an island
called Spinalonga, located in the sea between the aforementioned fortress [of Merambello] and
Candia; they used to move their animals for pasture on to the land opposite with boats. The Pa­
sha sent some mounted soldiers to kick the animals out. And the reayas of that district asked
for forgiveness. There was also a salt pan dependent of that fortress [of Merambello] near the
sea [mod. Elounda]. The soldiers conquered the salt pan and 60 villages. On the request of the
reayas, the Pasha appointed officers and 150 janissaries under Açci Ali Aga to guard the for­
tress [of Merabello]. (Haber-ifetih Hüseyin Pasa’nm mesmû'i oldukda sebükbar Resmo’dan
üç gunde Kandiye ’y e varup askere istimâlet virdikden sonra dort menzilde mezbur hisara va-
rup içine asker kodi. Ve reayaya istimâlet virdi. Zikr olunan kal 'a He Kandiye arasinda derya
içinde küffarin Riçpalanka nam ada içinde bir kal ‘asi olup davar ve koyunlarm kayiklar ile ka-
raya çikarup otlatmagla pa§a-yi zî-kerem birkaç atlu gônderüp davarlarm sürdürdi. Ve ol etraf
reayasi dahi émana gelüp hisar-i mezbura tabi leb-i deryada bir azîm tuzla olup altmiç pare
kôy ile mezbur tuzla dahi zabt olundi. Ve reaya talebi ile yasakçilar ve yüz elli nefer yeniçeri ile
A$çi Ali Aga zabtina ta ‘y in olundi.)

In conclusion, I would like to argue that istimâlet seems to have been a much more
widely used term in the Ottoman political vocabulary, and it was not only a policy to­
wards the zimmis/reayas (raiyetperverlik), as historiography has described it so far. I
think that the few uses o f the term istimâlet in the narratives o f early Ottoman history do
not fully justify its use as a term (not as a practice) o f early Ottoman political thought. In
any case, I believe that we might want to be very careful before we apply such sweeping
generalisations.
When we actually look for istimâlet in the sources, it strikes us with its polysemy.
In this vein, as a term o f the political vocabulary o f the Ottomans, it seems, I think, that

45 Fezleke, vr. 63b.

70 ELIAS KOLOVOS

istimalet was much more than a ‘method o f conquest’: it was also a policy for encourag­
ing the army, and, last but not least, an accommodationist policy for handling dissent
(def-i ihtilal). After all, the army and dissent were the major problems o f the Ottoman
imperial government, at least during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries: to follow
a pragmatic policy o f sweet talk (uzubet-i lisan, dil-ho§hk) and ‘carrot’ was especially
important, if not essential. It is a subject for further research to align this practice with
other ideas in the Ottoman political vocabulary.
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE:
COMMUNAL REPRESENTATION
IN PRE-TANZIMAT-ERA CYPRUS

Antonis H a d jik y r ia c o u *

T h e m i l l e t debate is currently receiving ren ew ed attentio n . After several years of

sporadic contributions,*1 there is a sustained interest by, and critical mass o f recent studies
that revisit one o f the most fundamental debates in Ottomanist historiography.2 Millet de­

* Bogaziçi University. I would like to express my gratitude to Marinos Sariyannis and the anony­
mous reviewer for their perceptive comments and helpful suggestions. This essay has benefited
greatly from exchanges during the various workshops of the Re-imagining Democracy project
directed by Joanna Innés and Mark Philp. Research was financially supported by the European
Commission’s 7th Framework Programme Marie Curie Actions, as part of the Mediterranean
Insularities project (reference ID: 630030) hosted at the Institute for Mediterranean Studies,
Foundation for Research and Technology-Hellas between 2014 and 2016. Elizabeth Zachari-
adou had listened to a very early version of this essay at the Skilliter Centre for Ottoman Stud­
ies in Cambridge, back in 2007, and her comments and feedback were instrumental. As this
volume was about to go to the press, 1 received the news of her death. I would like to dedicate
this essay to her memory.
1 The debate was initiated by B. Braude’s 1982 essay ‘Foundation Myths of the Millet System’,
in idem and B. Lewis (eds), Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Empire: The Functioning o f
a Plural Society, Vol. 1: The Central Lands (New York 1982), 69-88. Braude challenged the
conventional wisdom of an unchanging ancient millet system that regulated relations between
religious communities and the Ottoman state, and he was soon followed by several scholars to
become what constituted a major paradigm shift in Ottomanist historiography. For two thor­
ough historiographical overviews see M. van den Boogert, ‘Millets: Past and Present’, in A. S.
Roald and A. N. Longva (eds), Religious Minorities in the Middle East (Leiden-Boston 2011),
27-45; 27-30 and E. Gara, ‘Conceptualizing Interreligious Relations in the Ottoman Empire:
The Early Modem Centuries’, Acta Poloniae Historica, 116 (2017), 57-91, at 66-72.
2 K. Barkey and G. Gavrilis, ‘The Ottoman Millet System: Non-Territorial Autonomy and its
Contemporary Legacy’, Ethnopolitics, 15 (2016), 24-42; K. Barkey, Empire o f Difference:
The Ottomans in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge 2008), 115-116, 132-153; Van den Bo­
ogert, ‘Millets’, 27-45; A. Lyberatos, ‘The Application of the Tanzimat and its Political Effects:
Glances from Plovdiv and its Rum Millet’, in I. Pàrvev, P. Mitev, M. Baramova and V. Rache-
va (eds), Power and Influence in Southeastern Europe, I6th-I9th Centuries (Münster 2013),
109-118; V. Kursar, ‘Non-Muslim Communal Divisions and Identities in the Early Modem
Ottoman Balkans and the Millet System Theory’, in ibid., 97-108; E. Kermeli, ‘The Right to
Choice: Ottoman, Ecclesiastical and Communal Justice in Ottoman Greece’, in C. Woodhead
72 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

notes religious community, and the semantic controversies arise when the word is associ­
ated with the system that allegedly regulated the organisation o f and interaction between
different confessional groups, as well as their relations with the Ottoman state. My usage
o f the term is confined to this context, i.e., with reference to a system explicitly or implicit­
ly suggesting an institutionalised and/or hierarchical structure that followed or reflected re­
ligious organisation. In the case o f the Christian Orthodox, this was the Orthodox Church.
Scholars differ over the historical origins o f this system, the degree o f its institu­
tional nature, as well as how consistently and uniformly it was applied. The traditional
view highlights its ancient roots, emphasising how at key moments o f conquest the Ot­
toman Empire integrated non-Muslim populations by bestowing their spiritual leaders
with fiscal and administrative jurisdiction, while at the same time facilitating the exer­
cise o f religious functions.3 This view was challenged from the 1980s onwards, when
more focused studies demonstrated how the term millet came to acquire any institutional
character pertinent to communal organisation in the context o f the nineteenth-century
Tanzimat reforms.4 The argument here, somewhat provocatively articulated by Braude,

(ed.), The Ottoman World (New York 2011), 347-359; a longer version of this essay under the
same title is available in Journal o f Semitic Studies, 52 (2007), 165-211; B. Masters, ‘Chris­
tians in a Changing World’, in S. N. Faroqhi (ed.), The Cambridge History o f Turkey, Vol. 3:
The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603-1839 (Cambridge 2006), 272-279; M. Rozen, ‘The Otto­
man Jews’, in ibid., 256-271 ; M. Aymes, A Provincial History o f the Ottoman Empire: Cyprus
and the Eastern Mediterranean in the Nineteenth Century (London 2014), 21 -32; T. Papadem-
etriou, Render unto the Sultan: Power, Authority and the Greek Orthodox Church in the Early
Ottoman Centuries (Oxford 2015); M. Ueno, ‘For the Fatherland and the State’: Armenians
Negotiate the Tanzimat Reforms’, IJMES, 45 (2013), 93-109; dem, ‘Religious in Form, Po­
litical in Content? Privileges of Ottoman Non-Muslims in the Nineteenth Century’, JESHO,
59 (2016), 408-441; A. Koçunyan, ‘The Millet System and the Challenge of other Confes­
sional Models, 1856-1865’, Ab Imperio, 1 (2017), 59-85; D. Stamatopoulos, ‘Rum Millet be­
tween Vakifs and Property Rights: Endowments’ Trials of the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s Mixed
Council in the Late Ottoman Empire (19th—20th c.)’, Endowment Studies, 2 (2018), 58-81; H.
Çolak and E. Bayraktar-Tellan (eds), The Orthodox Church as an Ottoman Institution: A Study
o f Early Modern Patriarchal Berats (Istanbul 2019)..
3 H. A. R. Gibb and H. Bowen, Islamic Society and the West: A Study o f the Impact o f West­
ern Civilization on Moslem Culture in the Near East, Vol. 1, pt 2 (London 1950), 211-212; S.
Runciman, “‘Rum Milleti”: The Orthodox Communities Under the Ottoman Sultans’, in J. J.
Yiannias (ed.), The Byzantine Tradition After the Fall o f Constantinople (Charlottesville and
London 1991), 1-15 ; idem, The Great Church in Captivity: A Study o f the Patriarchate o f Con­
stantinople from the Eve o f the Turkish Conquest to the Greek War o f Independence (London
1968), 167-168; H. inalcik, ‘Ottoman Archival Materials on Millets’, in idem (ed.), From Em­
pire to Republic. Essays on Ottoman and Turkish Social History (Istanbul 1995), 91-103; idem,
‘The Status of the Greek-Orthodox Patriarch Under the Ottomans’, Turcica, 21-23 (1991), 407-
436; T. Papadopoullos, ‘Orthodox Church and Civil Authority’, Journal o f Contemporary His­
tory, 2 (1967), 201 -209; idem, Studies and Documents Relating to the History o f the History o f
the Greek Church and People Under Turkish Domination. (Aldershot 1990 [2nd ed.]); E. Cey-
lan, ‘The Millet System in the Ottoman Empire’, in J. Upton-Ward (ed.), New Millennium Per­
spectives in the Humanities (Istanbul and Provo 2002), 245-266.
4 D. Goffman, ‘Ottoman Millets in the Early Seventeenth Century’, New Perspectives on Tur-
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 73

is that there “were neither millets nor a system” for most o f the Empire’s existence,
although he conceded that ‘a considerable, but by no means absolute, degree o f com­
munal autonomy existed’.5 According to this view, pre-nineteenth century arrangements
between the Ottoman state and non-Muslim religious communities were largely ad hoc,
and Istanbul-based religious leaders may have claimed Empire-wide authority, but this
was very limited and fluctuated over time.
Michael Ursinus shifted the debate by pointing out the sporadic use o f the word millet
in the pre-Tanzimat period. The term denoted religious community, with its earliest refer­
ence going back to 1697.6 Implying a more institutional character and cohesive nature
o f the millet as religious community from the mid eighteenth century onwards, Ursinus
acknowledges, however, that the term ’s usage was limited to the miihimme defterleri,
reflecting an imperial rather than local vision o f collective organisation.7 Thus, the term
did not appear in local administrative or legal sources such as the sharia court records,
where one would expect to find it in cases pertinent to different confessional communi­
ties. He thus accepts that local communal organisation may have taken different forms,
but insists that “in the perspective o f the central government [local communities] were
seen as parts o f religious and juridical communities which, under the leadership o f their
(ecclesiastical) heads, ideally had an empire-wide dimension” .8
In a recent contribution, Vjeran Kursar identifies 1626 as the earliest date o f an Ot­
toman document employing the term millet for non-Muslims, although not in a fashion

key, 11 (1994), 135-158; R. Clogg, ‘The Greek Millet in the Ottoman Empire’, in Braude and
Lewis (eds), Christians and Jews, Vol. 1, 185-207; Braude, ‘Foundation Myths’, 69-88; idem,
‘The Strange History of the Millet System’, in K. Çiçek (ed.), The Great Ottoman-Turkish Civ­
ilization, Vol. 2 (Ankara, 2000), 409-418; idem, ‘Introduction’, in idem (ed.), Christians and
Jews in the Ottoman Empire: The Abridged Edition with a New Introduction (Boulder 2014),
1-49; A. Cohen, ‘On the Realities of the Millet System: Jerusalem in the Sixteenth Century’,
in Braude and Lewis, Christians and Jews, Vol. 2, 7; Ueno, ‘For the Fatherland and the State’,
95; P. Konortas, OOcopaviKéç Qempr\aeiç yia to OiKovpsvmo Ilmpiapxeio. Bspmia yia mvç
itpoKaOrjpsvovç rrjç Msyâltjç EKKlr/maç (17oç-apxéç 20oé aicova) [Ottoman perspectives on
the Ecumenical Patriarchate: Berats concerning the Leaders of the Great Church (seventeenth-
early twentieth century)] (Athens 1998); idem, ‘From Tâ’ife to Millet: Ottoman Terms for the
Ottoman Greek Orthodox Community’, in D. Gondicas and C. Issawi (eds), Ottoman Greeks
in the Age o f Nationalism: Politics, Economy, and Society in the Nineteenth Century (Princeton
1999), 169-179; E. Balta, ‘The Exploitation of Otherness in the Economic Advancement of the
Rum Millet’, O Epavicmqç, 24 (2003), 139-160; D. Stamatopoulos, ‘From Millets to Minorities
in the 19th-Century Ottoman Empire: an Ambiguous Modernization’, in S. G. Ellis, G. Hâlfda-
narson and A. K. Isaacs (eds), Citizenship in Historical Perspective (Pisa 2006), 253-273; M.
Kenanoglu, Osmanli Millet Sistemi: Mit ve Gerçek (Istanbul 2004).
5 Braude, ‘Strange History’, 410.
6 See the transcribed document in A. Refik, Onikinci Asr-i Hicrinde Istanbul Hayati (1689-1785)
(Istanbul 1988), 21 (document 34).
7 EP, s.v. ‘Millet’ (M. Ursinus), 61-64; for an expanded version of the text in German see M. Ur­
sinus, ‘Zur Diskussion um “millet” im Osmanischen Reich’, SE, 48 (1989), 195-207.
8 Ursinus, ‘Millet’, 63.
74 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

that suggests a system.9 Hidemitsu Kuroki supported Ursinus’s position by demonstrating

that since 1813 there had been local usage o f the word millet indicating a consciousness
o f sorts in Aleppo.10 Conversely, Paraskevas Konortas has pointed out the significance of
the use o f the term taife (group, community, class, tribe) as a precursor to millet during
the eighteenth and early nineteenth century.11 This term, however, is also used in Ottoman
bureaucratic nomenclature to denote professional, military, or ethnic groups regardless of
religion. Overall, and issues o f dating notwithstanding, less clear in all these formulations,
and perhaps the source o f disagreement between Braude and Ursinus, is the degree o f in­
stitutionalisation which would in turn determine whether the term ‘system’ is applicable.12
This debate is important because, regardless o f the position one assumes, there seems
to be an inherent agreement that millet was the catalyst that transformed pre-modern reli­
gious communities into modem, national ones. It is for this reason that the millet system
is a particularly popular, if erroneously used, analytical category among historians, politi­
cal scientists, sociologists, or anthropologists studying nation-state-building processes in
the post-Ottoman lands.13
While scepticism about the temporal omnipresence o f the millet system has now be­
come the consensus among most Ottomanists, certain contributions have pumped new
blood into the debate. Marc Aymes questioned the genealogical connection between mil­
let and nation, asserting that nothing predisposed the former to evolve into the latter. In
this sense, Aymes shifts the stakes away from the modemist-developmentalist paradigms
o f nation-state formation, questioning the inherent teleology behind the transformation
o f religious into national identity.14 From the other end o f the debate, Karen Barkey has
recently re-articulated the primordial argument for the millet system, which she sees as
the cornerstone o f Ottoman tolerance and the multiculturalism that characterised Otto­
man rule.15 Defining it as “a loose administrative set o f central-local arrangements”,16 she
emphasises that it was a system nevertheless, and one that had ancient origins. Reflect­
ing her broader theory o f the Ottoman state, Barkey sees a millet system characterised
by institutional flexibility. Yet, her analysis and more detailed accounts indicate that the
Ottoman state Barkey perceives is more institutional than flexible.17

9 Kursar, ‘Non-Muslim Communal Divisions’, 104.

10 H. Kuroki, ‘The Orthodox-Catholic Clash in Aleppo in 1818’, Orient: Report o f the Society for
Near Eastern Studies in Japan, 29 ( 1993), 1-18.
11 Konortas, ‘From Tâ’ife to Millet’, 169-179. This is corroborated by cases from the present
study: Baçbakanhk Osmanli Arçivi (BOA), C.ADL. 3535; C.ADL. 879; all archival references
are from BOA unless otherwise noted.
12 Braude, ‘Strange History’, 418, note 3.
13 For one such typical example see R. Hirschon, ‘Dismantling the Millet. Religion and National
Identity in Contemporary Greece’, A. Aktar, N. Kizilyürek and U. Ozkmmli (eds), National­
ism in the Troubled Triangle: Cyprus, Greece and Turkey (London and New York 2010), 61-75
at 61-62, 67-69.
14 Aymes, A Provincial History, 21-32
15 See a critique in Gara, ‘Conceptualizing Interreligious Relations’, 68-69.
16 Barkey, Empire o f Difference, 125.
17 Ibid., 70-71, 109-123, 132-153.
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 75

In discussing the Greek Orthodox communities, Barkey relies heavily on Theodore

Papadopoullos, whose work was published in the 1950s.18 Predominantly based on docu­
mentation from ecclesiastical sources, Papadopoullos reproduces the image clerical in­
stitutions were projecting for themselves as the exclusive intermediary between state and
society - reifying the notion o f a millet system inaugurated in 1453 upon the conquest
o f Constantinople. Importantly, Papadopoullos’ handling o f primary sources had already
been criticised in Anglophone bibliography since 2001.19
These are issues that go beyond historiography: they affect current understandings
o f politics and inform popular discussions on inter-communal relations throughout the
post-Ottoman world. Indicative is the case o f Cyprus. One o f the (several) points of
convergence between the two competing nationalist imaginations o f the historical past
o f the island is the effective equation o f the non-Muslim communal organisation with
the Orthodox Church. Following either the above-mentioned Ottomanist paradigm of an
unchanging millet system under the ‘natural leadership’ o f the higher clergy, or the Greek
Cypriot narrative o f a Church monopolising the political, economic, and cultural realm
in Ottoman Cyprus, both models reproduce the idea o f an almighty Church. The same is
true o f scholars to the left o f the political spectrum, who reify the image o f the Church
as an omnipotent institution at the centre o f all aspects o f life, if by adopting a critical
stance.20 The overall narrative remains unchanged as far as the main historical actor is
concerned.
The operative term here is institution, and at stake is conceptualising the logic of
representation, devolution o f power, endowment o f authority, and the administrative ar­
rangements that emerged through the negotiation between centre and province. In this
context, the religious community appears to have had a unified and homogeneous struc­
ture, devoid o f social hierarchies and competitions both within and across the religious
divide. This precise feature o f the economy, society, and politics o f the communities
which composed the millet, real or imagined, has escaped the discussion at either end of
the historiographical spectrum. In the words o f Yaron Ayalon, “the social world o f many
people comprised more circles than just the religious community” .21
This is how I propose to go beyond the millet debate: by focusing on the nuts and
bolts o f communal organisation. Local differentiations and social complexity o f religious
groups were the collateral damage o f almost four decades o f discussing whether a millet

18 Papadopoullos, Studies and Documents. The book was originally published in Brussels in
1952.
19 A. G. Papademetriou, ‘Ottoman Tax Farming and the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate: An Exami­
nation of State and Church in Ottoman Society (15-16th Century)’, unpublished Ph.D. disserta­
tion, Princeton University, 2001,21-23. See also Papademetriou, Render Unto the Sultan, 37-
38.
20 M. N. Michael, ‘An Orthodox Institution of Political Authority: the Church of Cyprus’, in
idem, M. Kappler and E. Gavriel (eds), Ottoman Cyprus: A Collection o f Studies on History
and Culture (Wiesbaden 2009), 209-230.
21 Y. Ayalon, Natural Disasters in the Ottoman Empire: Plague, Famine and Other Misfortunes
(Cambridge 2015), 168.
76 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

system imposed upon confessional communities from above existed. In addressing this
issue, I explore the extent to which communities were rigidly delineated, whether they
were organised as a cohesive and undifferentiated social group,22 and show some snip­
pets o f inter-confessional co-existence (which included both co-operation and competi­
tion, as well as many other forms o f interactions).23 The following episode eloquently
addresses these issues.

Communities in the Ottoman world

In 1707, the archbishop and the janissary commander o f Cyprus, some monks, priests,
and “certain other individuals” were exiled to Rhodes. They were found guilty o f oppres­
sion and exploitative taxation. By claiming to have been “representatives o f the reayas”
(.reaya vekiliyiiz deyu), they managed to collect more than 100,000 kurus over a period
o f four to five years by manipulating the maktu system o f collective tax assessment and
collection.24 Their activities were so detrimental to the local economy and society that
they resulted in a tide o f peasant emigration. In turn, this forced the Ottoman state to take
urgent measures for the restoration o f stability which included tax breaks and discounts
for those willing to return to their “old homelands” (evtan-i kadime), as well as a range
o f administrative and fiscal reconfigurations with regard to the distribution o f political
power in the province.25
Such descriptions o f corruption no longer raise the eyebrows o f Ottomanist histori­
ans. Yet, one facet deserves further consideration and is relevant to the present discussion
o f communal representation: the title “representative” (vekil) is frequently encountered
in Ottoman bureaucratic parlance on Cyprus from the 1770s onwards. While reaya usu­
ally refers to the tax-paying subjects o f the Sultan irrespective o f religion, in this instance
it is confined to the non-Muslims o f the island.26 Historians take this title to exemplify

22 For a similar approach see Ivanova, ‘Armenians in Urban Order and Disorder’, 260.
23 Gara, ‘Conceptualizing Interreligious Relations’, 79-80.
24 This system was based on the assessment of the community as a whole rather than of individual
taxpayers. This gave communal leaders a considerable degree of independence through the dis­
tribution of the burden according to the needs of the community. The dark side of this system,
however, was that inherent were opportunities for handsome profit for those responsible for the
distribution. See below.
25 C.ADL. 833; H. F. Alasya, Kibns Tarihi (M.E. 1450-M.S. 1878) ve Belli Bash Antikleri (Nico­
sia 1939), 66-67; I. P. Theocharidis, KarâXoyoç OOm/uavucœv Eyypâtpcov rrjç EOviKrjç BifiXioQr\-
Ktjç Trjç Zôtpiaç [Catalogue of Ottoman Documents in the National Library of Sofia] (Nicosia
1984), 37 (document 9).
26 The term reaya has multiple usages in Ottoman texts. In earlier periods it was used to denote
subjects or peasants irrespective of religion. In the documentation I have examined primar­
ily concerning eighteenth-century Cyprus, the term is used as a juxtaposition in order to sep­
arate non-Muslim from Muslim taxpayers. The latter are usually defined as ahali. For exam­
ple: ahali ve reaya (C.BH. 8864); miXslim ve reaya (HAT. 25303); ehl-i Islâm ve reaya (C.ML.
3801); ehl-i islâm and ehl-i zimmet reayalar (C.ML. 6251). However, this also is not an ex­
clusive term, and can also mean 'people', irrespective of religion. On the polysemous nature of
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 77

the extensive degree o f independence granted to the leadership o f a communal organisa­

tion. It is therefore rather odd that the title appears as early as the 1700s. To appreciate
the importance o f this detail, it is necessary to delve into the evolution o f the fiscal and
administrative functions associated with communal organisation throughout the Ottoman
world. This will allow us to scrutinise the assumption that the office o f representative o f
the non-Muslims had a corporate character as the head o f a hierarchical and bureaucra­
tised communal structure, which was in turn instrumental in subsequent nation-building
processes, as the millet narrative has it.
Communal representation neither had an unchanging ab antiquo structure, nor did it
follow a straight and consistent evolutionary path leading to nationhood. Reflexive as­
sumptions about the nature o f communal representation o f the empire’s Orthodox com­
munities often lead to opposite conclusions, and are frequently based on the image such
informal institutions were projecting for themselves. As Eleni Gara reminds us,

[i]t would be a mistake to expect that communal institutions developed in a linear way from a
rudimentary to an elaborated form. It would be equally erroneous to assume that they did not
evolve over time, but had always been the same as they were when they attracted the attention
of outside observers in the nineteenth century.*
27

An important new corpus o f studies on communities throughout the Ottoman Empire

has shed considerable light on the mechanics o f collective representation and communal
organisation.28 At the centre o f these discussions is the well-known legal principle o f the

the term, as well as the temporal changes in its content, see A. Fotic, ‘Tracing the Origin of a
New Meaning of the Term Re ‘âyâ in the Eighteenth-Century Ottoman Balkans’, Balcanica, 48
(2017), 55-66.
27 E. Gara, ‘In Search of Communities in Seventeenth Century Ottoman Sources: The Case of the
Kara Ferye District’, Turcica, 30 (1998), 135-162, at 140.
28 Ô. Ergenç, ‘Toplumsal Düçünce Açiklama Kanali Olarak “Cemm-i Gafir ve Cem‘-i Kesir’”, in
XVI. Tiirk Tarih Kongresi, 20-24 Eyliil 2010, Ankara. Kongreye Sunulan Bildiriler, Vol. 4, part
2: Osmanli Tarihi (Ankara 2015), 1063-1071; A. Anastasopoulos, ‘Imperial Institutions and
Local Communities: Ottoman Karaferye, 1758-1774’, unpublished Ph.D. Thesis, University
of Cambridge, 1999, 53-93; idem, ‘Centre-Periphery Relations: Crete in the Eighteenth Cen­
tury’, in B. Forsén and G. Salmeri (eds), The Province Strikes Back: Imperial Dynamics in the
Eastern Mediterranean (Helsinki 2008), 123-136, at 37-47; idem, ‘Political Participation, Pub­
lic Order and Monetary Pledges (Nezir) in Ottoman Crete’, in E. Gara, M. E. Kabadayi and C.
Neumann (eds), Political Protest and Political Participation in the Ottoman Empire: Studies
in Honor ofSuraiya Faroqhi (Istanbul 2011), 127-142. For a comparative examination of the
rich Greek and Bulgarian historiography on communities, usually linguistically inaccessible to
most Ottomanists, see Gara, ‘In search of communities’, 135-161 and Lyberatos, ‘The Applica­
tion of the Tanzimat’, 109-118. See also A. Yaycioglu, Partners o f the Empire: The Crisis o f the
Ottoman Order in the Age o f Revolutions (Stanford 2016), 117-156; M. Pylia, ‘Aeixoupyieç Kai
Aoxovopia tcov Koivoxijxcov xpç nsXoJtowf|aou Kara xr) Ashxsp'n ToupKOKpaxia (1715-1821)
[Functions and autonomies of the communities of the Peloponnese during the second period of
Turkish rule (1715 - 1821)]’, Mvqpcov, 23 (2001), 67-98; S. D. Petmezas, ‘Christian Commu­
nities in Eighteenth- and Early Nineteenth-Century Ottoman Greece: Their Fiscal Functions’
78 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

Hanefî school o f Islamic jurisprudence whereby corporate entities are not recognised.
In this context, legal arrangements had to take place between individuals, i.e., private

in M. Greene (ed.), Parallels Meet: New Vistas o f Religious Community and Empire in Otto­
man Historiography, special issue of Princeton Papers, 12 (2005), 71-127, also published as
eadem (ed.), Minorities in the Ottoman Empire (Princeton 2005); S. D. Petmezas, ‘Aia%s(pi-
ap xo)v K oivotikmv OiKovopiKcbv kou K oivotiki) Kupiapxla. H Srpccrnyucfi xarv IfpouxovTcov:
Zayopâ 1784-1822 [Management of communal finances and communal sovereignty. The strat­
egy of the notables: Zagora 1784-1822]’, Mvr\pmv, 13 (1991), 77-102; B. A. Ergene, Local
Court, Provincial Society and Justice in the Ottoman Empire: Legal Practice and Dispute
Resolution in Çankiri and Kastamonu (1652-1744) (Leiden and Boston 2003); H. Canbakal,
Society and Politics in an Ottoman Town. ‘Ayntab in the 17th Century (Leiden and Boston
2007), 125-177; eadem, ‘Vows as Contract in Ottoman Public Life (17th-18th centuries)’, Is­
lamic Law and Society, 18(2011), 85-115; D. Papastamatiou, ‘Tax Farming ifltizam) and Col­
lective Fiscal Responsibility (Maktu) in the Ottoman Southern Peloponnese in the Second Half
of the Eighteenth Century’, in E. Kolovos, P. Kotzagiorgis, S. Laiou and M. Sariyannis (eds),
The Ottoman Empire, the Balkans, the Greek Lands: Toward a Social and Economic History.
Studies in Honor o f John C. Alexander (Istanbul 2007), 289-305, 298-305; idem, ‘OiKovopi-
KOKOivcoviKol Mpxaviapot kou. to Ilpooxovi:lK° d’aivogevo (Tnyv OOcopavucij neXo7c6wri0o: H
nsp(7rao0T| tod navayuoxT) M nsvaK p [Socio-economic mechanisms and the phenomenon of
the notables in the Ottoman Peloponnese: the case of Panaghiotis Benakis]’, unpublished Ph.D.
Thesis, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, 2009, 129-159, 186-197; idem, ‘KoppctxiKéç 1>a-
xpÎEç ©rpv nposîtavacnmiKri neZomrvvTiao (1807-1816). O Pôkoç raw «ToupKaA.(3avcov» too
AaXâ coç IJapâyovxaç IIoXixiKijç Âia(popojKHT|OT|ç [Party factions in the pre-Revolution Pelo­
ponnese (1807-1816). The role of the Turco-Albanians of Lala as a factor in political differen­
tiation]’, Immp, 10 (1997), 185-233; E. Balta, ‘A m xo «Eopokoyuco TsKpr|pio crrryv AypoTucf)
OiKovopra: Oi KaA.A,iépysteç axp Xavxoplvn xov 18° Aitova [From the taxation presumption to
the agricultural economy: the farms on Santorini in the 18th century]’, Ta Ioropucâ/Historica,
5 (1988), 283-314; J. A. Reilly, A Small Town in Syria: Ottoman Hama in the Eighteenth and
Nineteenth Centuries (Oxford and New York 2002), 55-68; M. Çizakça, ‘Cash Waqfs of Bursa,
1555-1823 ’, JESHO, 38(1995), 313-354; G. Veinstein, Tnalcrk’s Views on the Ottoman Eight­
eenth Century and the Fiscal Problem’, in K. Fleet (ed.) The Ottoman Empire in the Eighteenth
Century, special issue of Oriente Moderno, 17 (79) (1999), 4-9; B. Doumani, Rediscovering
Palestine: Merchants and Peasants in Jabal Nablus, 1700-1900 (Berkeley and Los Angeles
1995), 143-149,172-180; C. Wilkins, Forging Urban Solidarities: Ottoman Aleppo 1640-1700
(Leiden 2009), 19-112; K. Sakul, ‘An Ottoman Global Moment: War of Second Coalition in
the Levant’, unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, Georgetown University, 2009, 310-331; S. An-
agnostopoulou, MmpâAoia, 19oç ai.-1919: Oi EAArivopOôôo&ç Koivôxr\xeq. A m to piAXérrcov
Pwpicbv cno EAArjviKÔ éOvoç [Asia Minor, 19th century - 1919: The Greek Orthodox commu­
nities. From the millet of the Romii to the Greek nation] (Athens 1998), 318-373; J. C. Alex­
ander, ‘Some Aspects of the Strife Among the Moreot Christian Notables, 1789-1816’, Enexrj-
plç Etaiplaç EzepeoeXkaôiKcbv MeAezœv, 5 (1974-75), 473-504; S. I. Asdrachas, ‘î>opokoyiKéç
kou 7tgpioptaxiKÉç keixoupyîsç xcov Koivoxijxcov ©rpv ToupKOKpcma’ [Taxation and restrictive
functions of the communities under Turkish rule], 45-62; idem, ‘Nrioiamicéç koivôxtixsç: oi
cpopokoyiKéç ksixoupyisç (I)’ [Island communities: the taxation functions (I)], Ta laxopucôJHis-
torica, 5 (1988), 3-36; idem, ‘N tiouoxikéç koivôxt|t8ç: oi <popo7.oyncéç keixoupyleç (II)’ [Island
communities: the taxation functions (II)], Ta lmopiKÔJHistorica, 5 (1988), 229-258; A. Ozil,
Orthodox Christians in the Late Ottoman Empire: A Study o f Communal Relations in Anato­
lia (London and New York 2013); S. Joseph, ‘Communicating Justice: Shari‘a Courts and the
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 79

legal entities. Traditional scholarship which tended to restrict itself to social interactions
as they were reflected in legal texts took the absence o f institutional arrangements for
granted.*29 In short, this legal framework was taken at face value, and it was assumed that
institutions were unable to formally develop. Taken a step further, this line o f interpreta­
tion concluded that the lack o f corporate legal status accounted for the Ottoman Empire’s
inability to match the development o f institutions encountered in Europe during the early
modem period. This assumption is baseless, however, and similar conditions from the
point o f view o f legal theory existed widely in Europe at the time.30
Moreover, legal practice as evidenced in the sharia court proceedings points to the
opposite conclusion. Cases involving collective representation in one form or another
abound in court records, indicating that there was ample legal space for the recognition
o f this corporate status. The legal assumption rationalising this was that every member
o f the collectivity verbally authorised its representative.31 In other words, Ottoman bu­
reaucrats and legal scholars proved flexible enough to work round the conundrum o f cor­
porate identity - as with so many other cases o f reconciling legal theory and practice.32
Moreover, Ôzer Ergenç has identified the existence o f a lexicon referring to collective
entities at various levels as early as the end o f the fifteenth century.33 In this context, the
evolution o f structures o f representation largely took place along the grey zone that lies
between formally recognised and actually functioning modes o f communal organisation
that may transgress legal principle either in letter or spirit.
Communal organisation was closely connected to fiscal administration. This was par­
ticularly the case from the seventeenth century onwards, when the system o f lump-sum
(maktu) tax-collection proliferated. Part o f the Ottoman state’s push towards monetisa­
tion, this system was based on collective, rather than individual (household), taxation.
In its more institutionalised and standardised form, the individual household distribution
o f taxes was based on the tevzi (apportionment) system.34 O f interest is also the empire-

Christian Community in Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Ottoman Greece’, Islam and

Christian-Muslim Relations, 20 (2009), 333—350.
29 J. Schacht, An Introduction to Islamic Law (Oxford 1964), 155. For a critique of traditional
views see A. Cohen, ‘Communal Legal Entities in a Muslim Setting, Theory and Practice: The
Jewish Community in Sixteenth-Century Jerusalem’, Islamic Law and Society, 3 (1996), 75-
90; H. Gerber, Islamic Law and Culture, 1600-1840 (Leiden, Boston and Koln 1999), 1-22.
30 F. W. Maitland, State, Trust, and Corporation, D. Runciman and M. Ryan (eds) (Cambridge
2003); G. Post, ‘Plena Potestas and Consent in Medieval Assemblies: A Study in Romano-
Canonical Procedure and the Rise of Representation, 1150-1325’, in Studies in Medieval Le­
gal Thought: Public Law and the State 1100-1322 (Princeton 2015), 31-162.
31 Gara, ‘In Search of Communities’, 136-140; H. Canbakal, Society and politics in an Ottoman
town. 'Ayntab in the 17th century (Leiden and Boston 2007), 125-177.
32 L. Peirce, Morality Tales: Law and Gender in the Ottoman Court of Aintab (Berkley, Los An­
geles and London 2003), 1-2, passim.
33 Ergenç, “‘Cemm-i Gafîr ve Cem‘-i Kesîr’” , 1063-1071.
34 H. inalcik, ‘Military and Fiscal Transformation in the Ottoman Empire, 1600-1700’, ArchOtt,
6 (1980), 335-337; for an extensive analysis of the multiple functions of the tevzi system see
generally Yaycioglu, Partners o f the Empire.
80 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

wide 1691 reform concerning the non-Muslim cizye tax, which was until then collected
on the basis o f flat-rate assessment. This practice was deemed contrary to Islamic law,
and the new system followed the sharia-sanctioned tax brackets o f high (aid), middle
(evsat), and low (edna) on the basis o f wealth.35
Ostensibly, this shift was ideologically driven. Nevertheless, Marinos Sariyannis has
illustrated how contemporary sources also point to a process o f bureaucratisation and
rationalisation o f fiscal administration.36 Moreover, the actual application o f this reform
was not uniform, and an analysis o f its implications reveals a more complex picture. By
discarding flat-rate, and therefore individual, household tax assessment and collection,
this reform essentially allowed local communities to internally distribute taxation ac­
cording their own specific requirements. This is the same fiscal logic behind the maktu
system that was widely employed during this period. It is difficult, if not impossible, to
document a link between the two developments; but the similarities at the level o f collec­
tive taxation are striking. Intentional or not, the 1691 cizye reform effectively legitimised
and further embedded local communal autonomy in fiscal administration. Such was the
degree o f autonomy communities had that they could blatantly ignore the canonical three
classes, distributing taxation along seven tax brackets.37 This was the case o f Patmos,
even on the morrow o f the application o f the reform itself,38 thus annulling the jurispru­
dential premise upon which the reform was based on before it was even applied. At the
same time, communal self-governance did not necessitate the equitable distribution of
taxes: the largest o f the seven groups paid the highest amount.39 This not only suggests a
pre-existing de fa cto practice, but more importantly that it was the internal balance based
on social hierarchies rather than any ideas o f justice that determined the distribution of
the tax burden.
Ali Yaycioglu has recently shown how during the eighteenth century the monetisation
o f governance and the shifting o f balance in favour o f local contractors meant that “ [t]he
empire was reintegrated through these fiscal ties, and provincial administration became
a business”. A concomitant localisation o f governance constituted “one o f the structural
trends that changed the dynamics o f the Ottoman provinces”.40 In this scheme, the com-
munalisation o f authority was central. The latter process is o f particular relevance here,

35 S. Faroqhi, ‘Crisis and Change, 1590-1699’, in H. inalcik with D. Quataert (eds) An Economic
and Social History o f the Ottoman Empire (Cambridge 1994), 411-636, at 546.
36 M. Sariyannis, ‘Notes on the Ottoman Poll-Tax Reforms of the Late Seventeenth Century: The
Case of Crete’, JESHO, 54 (2011), 39-61, see 40-42 for the extensive bibliography on the is­
sue.
37 Asdrachas, ‘«fiopoXoyiKÉç kcw7tspiopuytiKéç A-EvroopyiEç’, 54.
38 The reform was originally applied in Crete and the Aegean islands in 1670-71 before it was
universally applied throughout the Empire. Sariyannis, ‘Notes on the Ottoman Poll-Tax’, 39-
61.
39 Asdrachas, ‘cDopoT-oyiKÉç kou TrspiopiaxiKÉç XeiToupylsç’, 54.
40 Yaycioglu, Partners o f the Empire, 79-80, 117-156; idem, ‘Provincial Power-holders and the
Empire in the later Ottoman World: Conflict or Partnership?’ in Woodhead (ed.), The Ottoman
World, 436-452, at 447-448.
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 81

since it forged mutual bonds o f dependency between Ottoman subjects at the local level
through the collective liability for taxes. Summarising this process, Fikret Adanir has
observed that

[b]y means of mutual warrants and guarantees the individual was compelled to act in solidar­
ity with others of his [j / c] group, and by belonging to a corporate community, the members of
which were collectively liable to fulfil common duties, he [sic] acquired civil status. [The out­
come of these processes was that] the relationship between the state and the taxpayer became
more fluid.41

Taxation occupied an important role in the Ottoman discourse o f legitimacy and

conception o f politics. One fundamental component was the well-known notion o f the
‘Circle o f Justice’. Put simply, it was through justice that a sovereign legitimised the ex­
traction o f taxes. Justice (adalet), alongside order (nizam), were not just empty words in
a state-legitimising nomenclature: these were the key concepts Ottoman subjects repeat­
edly used and challenged the Sultan to uphold in their petitions and complaints.42 This
language concerned not only centre-province relations. Justice and order were central
to the internal organisation o f communal authorities, for they were regularly employed
when the legitimacy o f communal leadership was challenged.43 As a result, communal
authorities were (at least theoretically) expected to uphold these legitimising concepts
both from above and below.

Communal administration in Ottoman Cyprus:

problems and perspectives o f interpretation
It was within this context that the institutional development o f communities took place.
Despite the lack o f a legal framework defining corporate status, some sort o f institu­
tional continuity was necessary for various state functions - taxation, fiscal functions,
collective responsibility, or the administration o f justice. Yet, communal organisation
did not follow a consistent and coherent model according to which a single institution,
whether the Church or other lay officials, was endowed with authority by the Ottoman
state as o f old. W hile such agents were confident in projecting an image o f corporate
identity, and to a large extent functioned in such a way,44 the reality vis-à-vis the Otto­
man state was different. N either justified nor entirely arbitrary, the institutional reality

41 F. Adanir, ‘Semi-autonomous provincial forces in the Balkans and Anatolia’, in S. N. Faroqhi

(ed.), The Cambridge History o f Turkey, Vol. 3 (Cambridge 2006), 162, 167.
42 B. A. Ergene, ‘On Ottoman Justice: Interpretations in Conflict (1600-1800)’, Islamic Law and
Society, 8 (2001), 52-87.
43 See the ample evidence for the extant documentation of various Greek Orthodox communities
in Giorgos D. Kontogiorgis, Koivcovuaj ôvvapiKrj k m h o X itikti a m o ô io iK r \o r ] : o i eXXrjviKÉç k o i -
vôrr/zeç xrjç mvpKOKpanaç [Social dynamic and political self-governance: the Greek communi­
ties under Turkish rule] (Athens 1982).
44 The institutional identity of the office of reaya vekili was becoming increasingly more substan­
tial at the turn of the nineteenth century, primarily because of the activities of dragoman Hadji-
82 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

o f these processes was that they were situated somewhere between the de fa cto and the
de jure.
Conventional wisdom has it that the formation o f communal representation in Cy­
prus took place sometime in the 1660s. The source for this is Kyprianos, a contempo­
rary historian and cleric. Acknowledging the obscure nature o f this affair, he speculates
that during that period the prelates were “recognised as the main custodians and rep­
resentatives o f the reayas on fiscal m atters”,45 emphasising the fiscal over the political
in this early engagement with public affairs. Kyprianos then marks a qualitative shift
and a decisive turning point in 1754, when the taxes o f Cyprus would be collected by
lump sum (maktu, in fact this would be a return to this system). According to Kypri­
anos, a sultanic command was issued officially recognising the prelates as “kocabaçis
or custodians and representatives o f the reayas”, authorised to communicate freely with
Istanbul on the problems o f the island.46 This implies broader, political and adminis­
trative jurisdiction alongside the fiscal one. Based on this, clichés as to the ‘natural’
essence o f the leadership o f the Church abound not only in Greek, but also Turkish
historiography.47
However, as far as the institutional nature o f the Church as head o f the communal
organisation is concerned, the earliest arrangement which was akin to such a legal status
occurred in 1830.48 Even the late-eighteenth-century office o f “representative o f the non-

yorgakis Komesios and archbishop Kyprianos. Ironically, this increasing ‘institutionalisation’

was on a personal basis.
45 H Plopxa va eyvcopitjei among mplmg STxunâxaç Kai smxponovg rnv payiâ eig za pacnAim xéXrj,
Archmandrites Kyprianos, Ioxopia xpovoXoyiKrj xrjg vr/cron Kvizpov. 'Ekôooiç ixaXXiyewrjmag
[Chronological history of the island of Cyprus] (Nicosia 1971 [Reprint of 1788 ed.]), 313.
46 EXafiov Kai oi xêaaapeç Apyiepeig xtjg Kvnpov wio zm BeÇvpi va eivai Kai va yvmpiÇovxai zoo
Payiâ zrjç Nrjaon KoxQxpicâmôeç site Emoxâxai Kai Enizpoicoi, Kai ôiâ xmv avxmv tpopœv va
xtcoflâXXovmv apéacoç eiç xqv v\pr\Xr\v Tlôpxav xa Çijxjpaxa Kai xaç TCpocncXavoeig xov avxoé Pa­
yiâ eiç xâOs tcaipôv âtpofta, Ibid., 315-316.
47 To quote just one example: “the Orthodox Church that was the natural representative of the
Rums”. In this case, Rum can be translated as either Christian Orthodox or Greek-Cypriot. A. E.
Ozkul, Kibris’in Sosyo-Ekonomik Tarihi, 1726-1750 (Istanbul 2005), 32-93. For some exam­
ples of the use of the millet paradigm as a traditional, unchanging feature of the Ottoman Em­
pire, without any attempt at a definition or elaboration, see Çevikel, Kibris Eyaleti, 30; idem,
‘An Aspect’, 129, 132; see also Papadopoullos, ‘Orthodox Church’, 201-209; idem, Studies
and Documents, 8.
48 M. Aymes, ‘Reform Talks: Applying the Tanzimat to Cyprus’, in M. N. Michael, M. Kappler
and E. Gavriel (eds), Ottoman Cyprus: A Collection o f Studies on History and Culture (Wies­
baden 2009), 107-116, at 110; for an analysis ofthese changes see K. D. Louis, ‘H Aiaxelpurri
xmv <t>opo7.oyiKü>v Aoyaptaopmv xov Koivofi xqç Kimpoi) aroi> xqv Kevxpucij AppoyspovTSia
(1830-1839/40)’ [The management of the tax accounts of the Koinon of Cyprus by the cen­
tral council of the elders (1830-1839/40], Enexnplôa, 28 (2002), 175-211; idem, ‘Twiokoyia
Kai Aopi) OiKovopiKcov KaTaoxlyoiv ApxiEmcjK07tijç Kfijcpou (1800-1839/40)’ [Typology and
structure of the financial registers of the Archbishopric of Cyprus (1800-1839/40), in G. V.
Mendilaras (ed.), AisOvéç avvéôpio apxsiaKcbv. Ap/eia Kai jcpoomiKÉç axri vsaxiXiexla. Kvnpog,
4-6 Maïov 2000 [International Archivists’ Conference. Archives and prospects in the new mil­
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 83

Muslims” {reaya vekili) was not exclusive to clerics, contrary to what most historians
assume.
Ottoman documentation does not entirely back up Kyprianos’s assertion that this title
was inaugurated in 1754.49 While several Ottoman documents further elaborate on the
nature o f the socio-political background o f these administrative reconfigurations, there is
absolutely no mention o f the title “representative o f the non-Muslims” in the documenta­
tion.50 What the Ottomans described in 1751 as a “new order’ {nizam-i cedid), a series of
changes designed to remedy many o f the administrative and fiscal problems o f the island
matching what Kyprianos described, surely would have mentioned the inauguration of
such a title if this was part o f it (nizam-i cedid here is not to be confused with Selim Ill’s
reform programme). At stake here is not dating this event, but the absence o f any appoint­
ment process. The term appears only in a taxation register from that year, with no further
elaboration.51 While I was unable to locate any reference to when the title was officially
inaugurated, if it ever was, the next time it appears is in 1760.52 The term is used again in
1768 in a petition in Greek by the prelates stating that

a Christian named Francescos from the town of Lamaca became the yazici [secretary, lit.:
scribe] of the mîrî [taxes] of the town of Lamaca with the power of the muhassih [tax-farming
governors] and zâbits [local officers], -without our consent, who are the representatives o f the
reaya [my emphasis].53

The passage insinuates, but does not assert, that a certain kind o f authority attached to the
‘representatives o f the reaya’ was questioned and challenged. Most importantly, this was
done with the support o f powerful Muslim officials —a common practice as we previ­
ously saw. Only after the 1770s is the consistent use o f the title observable.54

lennium. Cyprus, 4-6 May 2000] (Athens 2001), 255-279; T. Stavrides, ‘Cyprus 1750-1830.
Administration and Society’, in M. N. Michael, M. Kappler and E. Gavriel (eds), Ottoman Cy­
prus, 89-106, at 102; Çiçek, ‘Zimmis’, 59.
49 Kyprianos, laxopia, 315-316.
50 C.ML. 18969, c. 8 Zi’l-hicce 1164/28 October 1751; C.ML. 6251, c. 23 Rebiü’l-ahir 1204/10
January 1790; C.ML. 6949, c. Zi’l-hicce 1176/June-July 1763.
51 D.BÇM.KBE.1/20557, c. Zi’l-kade 1165/September-October 1752.
52 C.ADL. 4934, 4 Rebiü’l-evvel 1174/14 October 1760. The document concerns the accusations
against archbishop Paisios, of which he was later acquitted. The accusers were the Peloponne­
sian resident of Istanbul Konstantinos Korodaras (?), a certain Petrakis, Andrikos, Nikolas, and
another Petrakis. See also Kyprianos, Icnopia, 316-317. Elif Bayraktar Tellan also sheds light
on this incident from a relevant document using the same terminology. Elif Bayraktar Tellan,
‘The Archbishopric of Cyprus in the Context of the Eighteenth Century Ottoman Orthodox In­
stitutions: The Evidence From the Archbishop Berats (1732-1767)’, ArchOtt, 32 (2015), 83-
100, at 90-91.
53 'Evaçxpianavôç ovôpaxi tppavxÇémcoç anô mv Kaoaitâv mv Xapvmcov, o onoioçpe xrjv ôvvapiv
xcov povyaaiXaScov Kai xcov fanrjxâôcov yivexai ypappaxiKÔç anâvco eiç xo prjpiv xov Kaaam xov
Xapv&KOX), ycopk xo déXrjpa tjpcbv xcov PsKKrjXiôœv xov payiâ. KBM 1/14, f. 2, undated, c. 14
Çevval 1768/4 March 1768.
54 The usual formula encountered in the usage of the title reaya vekili is always used in conjunc-
84 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

Given the lack of documentation confirming such a radical change, i.e. an official rec­
ognition o f wide-ranging administrative and representative authority, available evidence
points to a rather gradual process which did not entail a de ju re recognition at one specific
point in time, but rather the normalisation o f a de facto situation. On a different level,
tax-farming, in a strict sense, does not appear to be part o f the appointment to the office
in available documentation. Finally, as far as the discrepancy with Kyprianos’ statement
is concerned, in all probability he projected the title and content o f ‘representative’ as it
was used in the 1780s when he wrote his book, assuming that the meaning and signifi­
cance were the same in the 1750s. Indeed, projecting the meaning o f terms backwards is
extremely common phenomenon in any discussion o f communal organisation.

Projecting an institutional identity:

from guarantor fk efi X) to representative (V ekilj

By the final third o f the seventeenth century certain informal structures o f communal
responsibility were already established. I stress informal, for regardless o f the degree
o f sophistication, hierarchical structure, or effective nature communal organisation may
have had, it developed within a specific framework circumscribed by the sharia, custom­
ary law, and day-to-day administrative considerations. These boundaries were not inflex­
ible, and the meanings o f words and titles were stretched or shrunk according to specific
circumstances.
Communal representation is most notably visible in tax-collection.55 Certain sharia
court register entries from 1677 illustrate this point. Twice, delegations o f non-Muslims

tion with the other title of the person or persons it is attached to, e.g., “dragoman of Cyprus
and representative of the reayas” (Kibris terciimani ve reaya vekili), “the archbishop and rep­
resentative of the reayas” (baçpiskopos ve reaya vekili), or “the four bishops who are the rep­
resentatives of the reayas” (reaya vekilleri olan dort nefer piskoposlar). This illustrates that
the meanings of such titles were not consolidated yet, and their use should not be taken as a
clear-cut recognition of an institutional position. Papastamatiou reaches the same conclusion,
arguing for a ‘semi-officialisation’ of titles and functions during the second half of the eight­
eenth century in the Morea. Papastamatiou, ‘OiKovopiKOKOivœviKoi Mtix“ vkt|j.o1kou to IIpou-
XOvxiKO cDaivopsvo axpv OOcogavnaj FlEA-OTiowTiao: H nspfaraocrn tod navayuaxT] Mjtsvmcn’
[Socio-economic mechanisms and the notables in Ottoman Peloponnese: the case of Panayi-
otis Benakis], unpublished Ph.D. thesis, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, 2009, 195-196.
For the formulaic constructions used when referring to bishops and the lack of any titles akin
to institutional positions, see C.ADL. 1321, undated; C.ADL. 2218, c. Rebiü’l-evvel 1144/
September-October 1731; C.ADL. 2729, 2 Safer 1121/13 April 1709; C.ADL. 4396, middle
days ofCemaziü’l-ahir 1200/11-20 April 1786; C.ADL. 4538, c. Cemaziü’l-ahir 1144/Novem-
ber-December 1731; C.ADL. 4934, 4 Rebiii’l-ewel 1174/14 October 1760; C.ADL. 5067,
17 Rebiii’l-ewel 1214/19 August 1799; C.ADL. 5137, c. Muharrem 1214/June-July 1799;
C.ADL. 5895, c. 1759.
55 This is not the sole function of communities, as the vast literature suggests. For an example of
how communal organisation contributed to the administration of justice, see the case when the
representatives of the inhabitants of Famagusta testified in court with reference to an accident
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 85

presented themselves to the court offering to undertake tax-collection and deliver the
amounts to the appointed collectors. Claiming to represent the community, the delega­
tions offered their know-how to the collectors.*56 Importantly, these were private arrange­
ments between the delegations and the collectors, for which the court merely gave its
approval. In other words, this was neither an institutionally-sanctioned arrangement, at
least as far as the law was concerned, nor was it legitimised on the grounds o f consuetude
or ancient local practice.
One specific phrase is particularly revealing o f the nature o f this arrangement: “arch­
bishop Kigalas [...] guarantor (kefil) o f the communal affairs o f the non-Muslims o f the
island o f Cyprus”.57 He was appointed to this role by 31 named individuals and an un­
specified number o f unnamed persons from all over the island. The first point that stands
out concerns those who appointed Kigalas to the position o f guarantor: a list o f names
o f those who were inhabitants o f the various districts (kazas) o f the island, presumably
representing their local communities, and then a vague reference to “others” . Such a
formulation corresponds to the logic behind the legal fiction o f corporation, whereby
the verbal consent o f each and every member o f the community is presumed - in this
case, the verbal consent is supposed to have been given to the delegates who presented
themselves to the court.
Secondly, the archbishop was not considered by the Ottoman state as the natural
leader o f the non-Muslims by virtue o f any primordial millet system, but as what this
excerpt explicitly states: the guarantor o f communal affairs, appointed by the people on
that specific occasion. While the specific reference to communal affairs (cem l- i umur)
clearly implies that a de fa cto communal administration o f sorts was in place, the passage
makes no reference to any legal status that the Ottoman state recognised. This should be
no surprise, for in this case the court was not interested in the internal organisation of the
non-Muslims.58 What the court was interested in was the assumption o f responsibility
by someone who would guarantee the payment o f taxes for the whole o f the community.
Any authority that Kigalas had was not granted by Istanbul, but by the individuals who
appointed him (nasb) as their guarantor (kefil), and the court merely accepted the legality
o f this arrangement.

for which the alaybeyis of Nicosia and Famagusta were accused of being responsible. Theo-
charides, KazàXoyoç, 91 (doc. 217). Here we can differentiate the more ‘mundane’ and day-to-
day aspects of communal organisation expected in any kind of organised society, and the more
official or semi-official character that the leadership of communities took on in becoming po­
litical entities much later.
56 Hadjianastasis, ‘Bishops, Agas and Dragomans’, 121-125; 276-279.
57 Cezire-i Kibris reayasi cem 1 umurlarma kefil nasb eyledikleri bay piskopos Cigala, ibid., 277.
‘Cigalas’ is the phonetic transcription of the name from Cypriot Greek into Ottoman. There is
no documented relationship with Cigalazade Sinan Paça.
58 In this case, and throughout the period, there is no distinction between bishops and priests, and
all are described as ‘papa’. (Marios Hadjianastasis, personal communication, 18 June 2010).
This is in sharp contrast with the eighteenth century.
86 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

The connotations o f the term guarantor {kefil) are in some ways in contrast with those
o f representative {vekil), which is prevalent in post-1770s documentation. The former is a
legal function, the latter is (also) a title. The usage and context o f representative suggests
an official recognition and a certain degree o f authority. Moreover, it is taken to denote
leadership over the community more clearly and explicitly: representative o f the non-
Muslims. However, the meanings o f the terms guarantor and representative are neither
fixed nor absolute. Indeed, from other examples in the Empire it may even be possible to
argue that the terms have overlapping meanings, depending on the context.59
It is, however, possible to broadly delineate certain ‘official’ semantic boundaries.
The term guarantor, used in earlier periods, concerned fiscal functions with lending con­
notations.60 The usage o f this term is limited to the function o f someone guaranteeing
the collection o f taxation - in other words, undertaking the responsibility o f paying in
case o f default. On the other hand, while ‘representative’ may include the function of
guaranteeing the tax amount, as we will see later, it also implies broader administrative
and representative jurisdictions. The subsequent usage o f vekil indicates how the term
gradually developed fiscal qualities, and was eventually projected (with a certain degree
o f arbitrariness) as a political-administrative title.
It is important to highlight that both terms originated from the legal nomenclature
o f the court.61 In the case o f vekil,62 the legal concept o f representation (one’s deputy,
plenipotentiary, or representative in court) was redeployed and reconceptualised in such
a way as to acquire a new content alluding to or connoting fiscal, administrative, and/or
political representation. This may or may not have had any official Ottoman sanctioning,
despite and tacit approval in practice.
This polysemy notwithstanding, my observations concern this specific context and
the meanings the terms convey as revealed by the patterns o f political praxis: ‘guarantor’
is used in an era when communal representation is unofficial, and representative when
it is on its way towards institutionalisation, but still has a malleable nature. Neither term
entails an officially recognised hierarchy, particularly so before the 1770s.
The gradual development o f practices and notions o f representation were observable
elsewhere in the Empire. Other communities used a variety o f titles but essentially per­
formed similar functions.63 Regardless o f the title used, it covered a broad range o f levels

59 Anastasopoulos, ‘Imperial Institutions’, 86.

60 In a strictly legal context, the term refers to the guarantor of debtors. C.ML. 24254, c. Muhar-
rem 1170/September-October 1756; C.ADL. 5293, 3 Çaban 1172/1 April 1759.
61 See the concepts of wakïl and wakàla in W.B. Hallaq, Shari'a: Theory, Practice, Transforma­
tions (Cambridge 2009).
62 For the term vekil in particular, see R. C. Jennings, ‘The Office of Vekil (Wakil) in 17th Century
Ottoman Sharia Courts’, SI, 42 (1975), 147-169.
63 Kontogiorgis, Koivcovucr/ Swapncrj, 427, 469-481, 519-520; N. Stavrinidis, ‘O Oeapôç xcov
FpappaxiKcov xqç nôpxaç axT]v Kprixp’ [The institution of Secretaries of the Porte in Crete], in
Ileitpaypsva too A ’Siedvovç KprjxoloyiKov avveSpiov [Acta of the 4th International Cretan Stud­
ies Conference, 4 vols (Athens 1980-81), 111:397-401; M. Sotiropoulos and A. Hadjikyriacou,
‘Patris, Ethnos and Demos: Representation and Political Participation in the Greek World’, in
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 87

o f representation: the collectivities involved may be a small village outside Karaferye, a

neighbourhood in Antep, the four non-Muslim religious communities in Aleppo,64 or an
entire province, as with the office o f Mora vekili.65 What is more, the political employ­
ment o f the term vekil has a much longer history: M ehmet II delegated authority to his
Grand Viziers as ‘absolute deputies in all affairs (vekil-i m utlaky.66
In this context, the introduction o f the idea o f representation as part o f political and
administrative parlance was part o f larger trends observable throughout the Empire.
Evocative o f these developments are the concomitant shifts in the meaning and patterns
o f usage o f the term wakll (from the Arabic original o f the Turkish vekil) which are also
to be found in Iran during exactly the same period. Christoph Werner highlights the

polysémie character of the term vakil in its usage during the 18th and early 19th century in Iran.
The sources do not only use this term to denote quite different offices, but also as an honorary
title. A vakil can therefore assume the identity of a highranking provincial official (similar to or
replacing a provincial vizier or mustawfi), of a financial administrator of lower rank or an ap­
pointed arbitrator in urban society. But nevertheless the basic meaning of vakil as ‘representa­
tive’ or ‘attorney’ is always present in these definitions, creating a situation where meaning is
continuously oscillating between its basic level and its concrete shapings.67

It was during this period that Karim Khan Zand in Iran refused to assume the title of
§ahin§ah (king o f kings), opting for that o f wakll-e ra ’àyâ, whereby popular representa­
tion was a central tenet o f his legitimacy.68 This is o f course not to compare the content o f
this title with the ones examined in the Ottoman context. But it would indeed be worth­
while to speculate whether this constituted a Eurasian shift in political thought and ideas

J. Innés and M. Philp (eds), Re-imagining Democracy in the Mediterranean (Oxford 2018), 99-
124 at 102-106.
64 B. Masters, Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Arab World: The Roots o f Sectarianism (Cam­
bridge 2001), 64-65.
65 Antonis Anastasopoulos highlights a very similar case from the eighteenth century in a village
outside Karaferye, when a priest is appointed (nasb) as their representative (vekil) with regard
to tax-collection. Anastasopoulos, ‘Imperial Institutions’, 75. Canbakal, Society and Politics,
175; M. V. Sakellarios, H nsÀomwrjaoç icazâ zrjv ôevzépav zovpKOKpazlav (1715-1821) [The
Peloponnese during the second period of Turkish rule (1715-1821 )](Athens 1939), 94-96; A. T.
Photopoulos, Oi KozÇapTrâarjôsç zr\ç TleXo%owr\aov icazâ zrj âevzepr/ zovpKoxpazia (1715-1821)
[The kocabaçis of the Peloponnese during the second period of Turkish rule (1715-1821)]
(Athens 2005), 59-75.
66 T. Stavrides, The Sultan o f Vezirs: The Life and Times o f the Ottoman Grand Vezir Mahmud
Pasha Angelovic (1453-1471) (Leiden 2001), 70; H. Ydmaz ‘Containing Sultanic Authority:
Constitutionalism in the Ottoman Empire before Modernity’, OA, 45 (2015), 231-264 at 236.
67 C. Werner, ‘Ambiguity in Meaning: The Vakil in 18th and early 19,h-Century Iran’, in C. Mel­
ville (ed.), Proceedings o f the Third European Conference o f Iranian Studies Held in Cam­
bridge, 11th to 15th September 1995, part 2: Medieval and Modern Persian Studies (Wies­
baden 1999), 317-325, at 317.
68 J. R. Perry, Karim Khan Zand (Oxford 2006), 118-119.
 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

o f government during this conjuncture,69 even if the agency o f the appointment did not
rest with those represented. Be that as it may, such an inquiry requires an examination
beyond the present scope, and may be part o f another research agenda.
As far as Cyprus is concerned, available evidence is more lucid on the projections
o f leadership and authority over the community, rather than the specific substance and
content o f the term. If this was the case, then what is the meaning o f the episode from
1707, where the archbishop, the janissary commander, and other locals claimed to have
been “representatives o f the non-M uslims” when such an office did not exist? Clearly,
the claim was arbitrary, and the individuals concerned, incidentally both Muslims and
non-Muslims, projected a specific institutional identity that they did not possess in order
to justify the collection o f taxes at more than twice the prescribed rate. While the claim
may be revealing o f a certain consciousness by those using the title, the fact o f the matter
was that it was used as a means for exploitative taxation under a veneer o f officialdom.70

The politics o f communal authority in early eighteenth-century Cyprus

Contrary to what is often explicitly and implicitly assumed, the relationship between
non-Muslim lay and clerical office-holders was not always an easy one. This was par­
ticularly the case during the closing decades o f the eighteenth century, when boundaries
o f jurisdiction were being redrawn, and different officials (dragoman, archbishop, or tax­
farming governor) were striving for increasing their share o f sultanic authority and local
power.71
Conventional wisdom has it that lay non-Muslim office-holders were hand-in-glove
with, if not under the thumb of, the clerical hierarchy. While there is indeed evidence of
close co-operation between bishops and secular officials, this was not always the case.
There are many indications o f the independent and separated role they had, as well the ten­
sions and antagonisms between lay and clerical officials who occupied different functions
in the constantly-changing organisational chart o f communal administration. Depending
on circumstances, their relationship fluctuated between co-operation, conflict, toleration,
or co-optation.72 Despite this wide spectrum o f interactions, I will focus here on instances
o f conflicting agendas to illustrate the need to conceptualise these actors as distinct, rather
than unified, poles o f authority. This way, one can fully appreciate the complex and multi­
layered nature o f quasi-institutional structures o f communal organisation.
Particularly in earlier parts o f the eighteenth century, the offices o f sarraf (financier)
and yazici (scribe, secretary) entailed fiscal functions, in co-operation with that o f the

69 For European developments, H. F. Pitkin, The Concept o f Representation (Berkeley and Los
Angeles 1967).
70 C.ADL. 833, last days of Ramazan 1118/2-12 July 1706.
71 N. Çevikel, Kibns Eyaleti: Yônetim, Kilise, Ayan ve Halk (1750-1800). Bir Degifm Donemi-
nin Anatomisi (Famagusta 2000), 134, 140-141,198-200.
72 Stavrides, ‘Administration and Society’, 91-98; Bayraktar Tellan, ‘The Archbishopric of Cy­
prus’, 83-100.
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 89

dragoman.73 Moreover, such functions were performed together with Muslim officials.
In 1709, a petition informed Istanbul that the dragomans and sarraf, assisting the pashas
o f the island were oppressive, and the hitherto unknown dragoman Yerolemos was con­
sequently dismissed.74
There is currently very little information on the precise separation o f jurisdiction (or
the extent thereof) between these three secular offices and their role within the commu­
nity. What is certain is that the lines between them were somewhat blurred; yet that all
three were involved in fiscal matters. In one incident from 1743 a certain Yannis who was
performing the duties o f sa rra f and yazici had fled the island after having embezzled an
amount o f 5,522 kuru§. To remedy the situation, dragoman Christofakis had guaranteed
(tekeffiil) the payment o f taxes to the concerned tax-farmers, and Yannis was consequent­
ly removed from these two offices, the duties o f which were transferred to Christofakis.75
In 1745, Christofakis was found guilty o f oppressive and unjust behaviour after sev­
eral petitions were sent against him. He was removed from the position o f sa rra f and ya ­
zici and a certain Anastasis was appointed in his place.7678A year later, in 1746, a document
states that “due to the abuses o f those performing the services o f dragoman, sarraf, and
yazici, and because o f the annulment o f these offices, nobody is granted a b e ra f’.71 While
the office o f yazici does not appear in subsequent documentation, and the office o f sarraf
resurfaces in the early nineteenth century, the position o f the dragoman seems to have
continued nevertheless, since Christofakis had been dragoman upon his death in 1750.
More important than the events these documents are describing is the ambiguity about
the offices involved. The first two o f these documents are entries in the sharia court regis­
ters, and are respectively entitled “Dragoman Christofakis’ berat (appointment deed) for
the dragomanship” and “The new dragoman’s berat".78 Despite these misleading titles,
a description o f the functions o f the dragoman are nowhere to be found, as it is the case
with berats. The only description o f functions or offices are those o f the sa rra f and ya ­
zici, who were atatched to “the court o f the muhassil". This is interesting because such a

73 C.ADL. 5293, 3 Çaban 1172/1 April 1759; C.ML. 29407, 12 Cemaziii’l-evvel 1215/1 October
1800; C.ML. 21122,11 Muharrem 1266/27 November 1849; G. Mariti, Travels in the Island of
Cyprus. With Contemporary Accounts o f the Sieges o f Nicosia and Famagusta', C. D. Cobham,
ed. and trans. (Cambridge 1909 [2nd ed.), 7; Ôzkul, Kibns’in Sosyo-Ekonomik Tarihi, 74-78,
282; T. Papadopoullos, ‘To Acypa rtov Aieppijvscov’ [The song of the interpreters], Kxmpiaxal
ZnovSal, 45 (1981), 55-141, at 79-80.
74 C.ADL. 2729, 2 Safer 1121/13 April 1709.
75 Ôzkul, Kibris ’in Sosyo-Ekonomik Tarihi, 418-420.
76 Ibid., 77. For the document see II. Mahmud Kütüphanesi, Nicosia, Kibns Çeriyye Sicilien,
17/16-1, 24 Safer 1158/28 March 1745.1 would like to thank Ali Efdal Ôzkul for sharing the
document with me.
77 C. DH. 6328, 16 Muharrem 1159/8 February 1746. This eight-page document is unfortunately
unavailable for consultation because of its fragile condition. The information comes from the
summary in the Cevdet Dahiliye catalogue.
78 Tercümân Hristofaci’nin tercilmanlik beratidir and Terciiman-i cedidin beratidir respectively.
II. Mahmud Kütüphanesi, Nicosia, Kibns §eriyye Sicilien, 15/215-3 29 Zi’l-kade 1155 and
17/16-1, 24 Safer 1158/28 March 1745.
90 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

qualification is not to be found in subsequent documentation from the second half o f the
eighteenth century onwards.
The kadi's slip o f the pen in entitling the entries as “the dragoman’s beraf' despite the
fact that the appointments concerned different positions was no simple mistake: it reveals
how intertwined the positions o f dragoman, sa rra f and yazici were at the time. Thus,
these documents testify to the fluid nature o f the functions and duties o f these three offic­
es and the changing nature o f the distribution o f authority in the mid eighteenth century.
During the first half o f the eighteenth century, these non-clerical functionaries were
part o f the (informal) local bureaucratic apparatus, involved in fiscal and political mat­
ters as much as anyone else. Some o f the laymen who occupied these positions were
closely connected to the clerical authorities.79 Nonetheless, it should neither be auto­
matically assumed that all o f them were part and parcel o f the same structure, nor that
they always acted in harmony by virtue o f their common religion. Conflict between lay
and clerical high-ranking officials is observable as often as co-operation, while these
were not mutually exclusive characteristics o f relations between the two groups.80 For
example, the close links that Christofakis had with the bishops indicate that both the
dragoman that he deposed, and the one who briefly interrupted his own dragomanship
in 1745, opposed the interests that united Christofakis and archbishop Philotheos.81
The constant power struggles manifested through the many accusations against various
prelates and attempts to replace them indicate the existence o f competing groups, and
neither alliances nor conflicts were characterised by consistency as far as confessional
identities were concerned.82

79 The most notable case is Christofakis, who also bore the ecclesiastical title of rhetor. P. M.
Kitromelides, K oivcovikéç oxèoeiç m i vooxponieç oxr/v Rbitpo xov ôÉKaxov ôyôoov aiœva [So­
cial relations and mentalities in eighteenth-century Cyprus] (Nicosia 1992), 21. He is often to
be found in the relevant documentation acting in concord with the bishops, usually as a guaran­
tor of an outstanding loan, or an accomplice in over-taxation. See A.DVNS.AHK.CZRK. 1, 34,
htlkin (order) to the muhassil of Cyprus and naib of Nicosia, middle of Rebiii’l-evvel 1160/13-
22 March 1747; A.DVNS.AHK.CZRK. 1,65, hiikm to the muhassil of Cyprus and naib of Nic­
osia, first days ofÇewal 1160/6-15 October 1747; A.DVNS.AHK.CZRK. 1, 189, te 'te to th e
naib of Nicosia and muhassil of Cyprus, last days of Ramazan 1163/23 August-2 September
1749; Ôzkul, Kibns 'in Sosyo-Ekonomik Tarihi, 77.
80 For example see A.DVN.KBM. 1/14, f. 2, c. 14 Çevval 1181/4 March 1768, when the bishops
complained against Francesco, the yazici of the town of Lamaca. For the tensions between the
bishops and Hadjiyorgakis see E. Rizopoulou-Egoumenidou, Totopiicfi Map-rupla Icoawou
Kopvâpou tod Kprixôç’ [Historical testimony of Ioannis Comaros the Cretan], in eadem and
C. Hatzichristodoulou (eds), Nsa eixova m i toxopiKij papwpia lœâvov Kopvâpov xov Kpri­
xôç [New picture and historical testimony of Ioannis Comaros the Cretan] (Nicosia 2000), 19-
46, at 32-33. For the seventeenth-century case of dragoman Markoullis see M. Hadjianastasis,
‘Cyprus in the Ottoman Period: Consolidation of the Cypro-Ottoman Elite, 1650-1750’, in
Michael, Kappler and Gavriel (eds), Ottoman Cyprus, 63-88; idem, ‘Crossing the Line in the
Sand: Regional Officials, monopolisation of state power and ‘rebellion’. The case of Mehmed
Aga Boyacioglu in Cyprus, 1685-1690’, Turkish Historical Review, 2(2001), 155-176,163-64.
81 Ôzkul, Kibris 'in Sosyo-Ekonomik Tarihi, 73-14.
82 There are several known examples that need not be repeated here. See, indicatively, T.
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 91

Kyprianos, the previously-mentioned author o f a 1788 history o f Cyprus, was par­

ticularly close to archbishop Chrysanthos and was unequivocal about his political opin­
ions. While the information he provides is generally accurate, his opinions on historical
and contemporary developments are heavily loaded, projecting a very specific world­
view and essentially setting the boundaries to acceptable knowledge.83 Kyprianos liber­
ally uses negative adjectives against anyone who deviates from what he considers as the
official church line, and never misses an opportunity to condemn as malevolent (koke-
vrpexeiç) those who complained against the prelates.84 Such adjectives are in fact the

Stavrides, OiKovpeviKÔ nazpiapxeio k m Kvjzpoç: za naxpiapxiKâ éyypaipa zœv ezcbv 1600-1878

[Ecumenical Patriarchate and Cyprus: the patriarchal documents of the years 1600-1878] (Nic­
osia 2001), 31-73. For documentation from the Ottoman archives seeC.ADL. 2218, c. Rebitt’l-
evvel 1144/September-October 1731; C.ADL. 2554, 8 RebiüT-ahir 1225/11 July 1810; C.ML.
3568, 2 Rebiii’l-ahir 1172/3 December 1758; C.ML. 4538, c. Cemaziü’l-ahir 1144/November-
December 1731; C.ML. 5067, 17 Rebiii’l-evvel 1214/19 August 1799; C.ML. 5137, c. Muhar-
rem 1214/June-July 1799; C.ADL. 5895, c. 1759; C.ML. 5293, 3 Çaban 1172/1 April 1759;
HAT. 17754, undated; MAD. 9726, p. 288, 19 Receb 1226/9 August 1811; A.DVNS.AHK.
CZRK. 1, 19-20, hiikm to the muhassil of Cyprus and naib of Nicosia, middle days of Muhar-
rem 1159/2-12 February 1746. Stavrides, ‘Administration and Society,’ 96. For some of the
many cases of co-operation between Muslim and non-Muslim officials as one facet of this is­
sue, see A.DVN.KBÇ. 1/15, 4 Cemaziii’l-evvel 1191/10 June 1777; C.ADL. 833, last days of
Ramazan 1118/2-12 July 1706; 3568; C.ML. 3132, 25 Cemaziü’l-ahir 1204/12 March 1790;
HAT. 24651, c. 17 Çaban 1224/27 September 1809; Theocharides, KazàXoyoç, 92 (doc. 220);
idem, ‘AvskSotoi OOcapavuca 'Eyypoupa yia to Apayopâvo tt\ç Kimpou XaxÇqyecopyciKTi Kop-
véaio [Unpublished Ottoman documents on the dragoman of Cyprus Hadzigeorgakis Komesi-
os]’, in EvppeiKxa Apayopavmâ trig Kvicpov [Miscellaneous dragoman documents of Cyprus]
(Ioannina 1986), 34-38, 45-47, 55; P. Hidiroglou (ed.), OOmpavma éyypatpa zr\g ev Kimpm po-
vr/gKvKKov [Ottoman documents of the Kykkos Monastery in Cyprus] (Nicosia 1973), 31-32,
97-99, plate II (doc. 2); 34-35, 102-104, plate IV (doc. 4); 41-44, 109-113, plates VII-IX (docs.
8-9); 67-72, 137-142, plates XXI-XXII (docs. 11-12); N. G. Kyriazes, ‘npoÇsviKct'Eyypoupa.
Aâveia tcov ©povcov Kbrcpou [Consular documents. Loans of the thrones of Cyprus]’, Kvjzpta-
K&XpoviKâ, 12 (1936), 104-123; N. Çevikel, ‘An Aspect of History of Muslims and Non-Mus­
lims in the Late 18th Century-Ottoman Province of Cyprus \Belleten, 72:263 (2008), 123-140,
at 132; F. Zannetos, lozopla zr/g vr\oov KvTipov a m zrjç ayyXiKrjg Kazoy^jgpéxpi ar\pepov pszâ ei-
aaycaytjg KspiXapf8avovar\g (Spayeiav mpiypatpriv zrjg 6Xr\g lazopiag avxpg [History of the island
of Cyprus from the British conquest up to the present with an introduction including a brief
history of this whole history], 2 vols (Nicosia 1997 [2nd ed.]), 1:1112; A. Drummond, ‘Drum­
mond’ in C. D. Cobham (ed.), Excerpta Cypria: Materialsfor a History o f Cyprus (Cambridge
1908), 271-305, at 280; K. 1. Myrianthopoulos, XazQr\yea>pyaKiç Kopvémoç. O ôiepprjvevç zrjg
Kvnpov, 1779-1809 rjzoi ovpfoXai eigzr;v lozoplav zrjgKvizpov azizovpKoxpaziag (1570-1878)
[Hatzigeorgakis Komesios. The Interpreter of Cyprus 1779-1809 or contributions to the his­
tory of Cyprus under Turkish rule] (Nicosia 1934), 50K. Çiçek, ‘Zimmis (non-Muslims) of
Cyprus in the Sharia court: 1110/39 A.H./l698-1726 A.D.’, unpublished Ph.D. thesis, Univer­
sity of Birmingham, 1992, 165; Mariti, Travels, 8; Ôzkul, Kibns’m Sosyo-Ekonomik Tarihi,
74-76, 85, 282.
83 For an assessment see George Hill, A History o f Cyprus. Vol. 4; H. Luke (ed.), The Ottoman
Province, The British Colony (Cambridge 1952), 99.
84 Kyprianos, lozopla, 329
92 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

Greek equivalents to terms to be found in contemporary Ottoman documents describing

internal tensions.
Such tensions are evident in the issue o f financing episcopal sees. The appointment of
bishops and archbishops was confirmed with the payment o f an amount o f money (mîrî
piykey) for the issuing o f a her at. Just as with the Patriarchate o f Istanbul, where this pro­
cedure occurred on a much larger scale, competition between candidates raised the stakes
considerably, and correlatively the amounts that had to be paid. Financing these appoint­
ments was contingent upon laymen who lent money to candidates. It is reasonable to
assume that the expectation was that these debts would be serviced through taxation or
other extra-ordinary contributions from the community subsequent to the appointment.
There are several instances o f complaints against bishops for outstanding debts in the
historical record. While these grievances were recorded as financial, in at least some
cases there were also political dimensions. Moreover, either because the capital could
not be found in Cyprus, or to avoid local political implications, lenders were sought in
Istanbul.85 For example, archbishop Chrysanthos had such high-profile lenders as the
sa rra f o f the Grand Vizier.86
Finally, cases o f Muslim and non-Muslim officials collaborating while discharging
fiscal duties abound. Apart from the seven episodes mentioned above, one can add a case
in 1732 when archbishop Sylvestros, the bishop o f Lamaca Ioannikios, and the muhassil
were summoned to Istanbul to be investigated following certain complaints against their
conduct.87 In another episode o f cross-confessional collaboration, dragoman Christofa-
kis, archbishop Philotheos and the alaybeyi o f Cyprus Abdiilgafur were accused o f ex­
cessive taxation in 1745.88
The bigger picture o f communal politics o f representation indicates that during the ear­
lier parts o f the eighteenth century, fiscal and administrative functions were performed by
several lay office-holders, namely the dragoman (interpreter), the yazici (secretary), and
the sarraf (financier). The participation o f other individuals should not be excluded, while
we also notice the engagement o f Muslim officials in affairs that should be considered as
exclusive to the non-Muslim community - or at least they become so in other instances.

85 C.ADL. 1321, undated; A.DVNS.AHK.CZRK. 1, 19-20, hükm to the muhassil of Cyprus and
naib of Nicosia, middle days of Muharrem 1159/2-12 February 1746; A.DVNS.AHK.CZRK.
1, 34, hükm to the muhassil of Cyprus and naib of Nicosia, middle of Rebiü’I-evvel 1160/13-22
March 1747; A.DVNS.AHK.CZRK. 1, 65, hükm to the muhassil of Cyprus and naib of Nico­
sia, first days of Çewal 1160/6-15 October 1747; A.DVNS.AHK.CZRK. 1, 189, hükm to the
naib of Nicosia and muhassil of Cyprus, last days of Ramazan 1163/23 August-2 September
1749; F. M. Emecen, ‘Some Notes on the Defters of the Kaptan Pasha Eyaletf, in E. Zachari-
adou (ed.), The Kapudan Pasha: His Office and Domain (Rethymno 2002), 253-261, at 259-
261; J. M. Kinnier, ‘Kinnier’ in Cobham (ed.), Excerpta Cypria, 414-418, at 416.
86 C.ADL. 4396, middle days of Cemaziii’l-ahir 1200/11-20 April 1786.
87 Bayraktar Tellan, ‘The Archbishops of Cyprus’, 86.
88 G. Dinç, ‘Kibris Saray Terciimanhgi Kurumu (1779-1816)’, in XVI. Turk Tarih Kongresi, 20-
24 Eylül 2010, Ankara. Kongreye Sunulan Bildiriler, Vol. 4, part 1 (Ankara 2015), 423-437, at
424; Ôzkul, Kibris’in Sosyo-Ekonomik Tarihi, 77.
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 93

These functions were performed in collaboration with the higher clergy. Such a configura­
tion o f both Muslim and non-Muslim, as well as lay and religious officials, required a cer­
tain balance o f interests and a degree o f consensus. Often, this was not achievable. More
important, this consensus, or the lack thereof, was the result o f the convergence or diver­
gence o f different interests represented by non-Muslim agents, as well as Muslim ones.
During the second half o f the century, and its final quarter in particular, we see the rise of
more consolidated forms o f authority, concentrated in the hands o f particular individuals.
The final part o f the essay addresses this issue, with reference to the means o f projecting
institutional identity as the .sole source o f imperial authority in communal affairs.

Projecting an institutional identity: the dragoman as re a y a v e k ili

It should not be assumed that towards the end o f the eighteenth century an institutional
identity had been consolidated and officially recognised by the Ottoman state to create
an office with clearly defined jurisdiction. Even though the title “representative of the
non-Muslims” {reaya vekili) was consistently used, the concept was still ill-defined. Any
corporate nature that its use in Ottoman documentation may convey was not part o f a
teleological process, but the result o f a case-to-case basis evaluation - indeed a personal­
ised affair. An incident from 1788/89 is particularly enlightening in that respect.
Upon the death o f a muhassil, a dispute had arisen regarding the collection o f non-
Muslim taxes. Hadjiyorgakis Komesios, the dragoman o f Cyprus (Kibris tercümam) sent
a petition asserting that

in accordance to the ancient tradition of the country since the imperial conquest, [the collec­
tion of the taxes of the non-Muslims] has been entrusted to [...] the dragoman and representa­
tive of the non-Muslims.89

He then described this process, whereby a bond was issued in the name o f the dragoman,
who made the payment on behalf o f the taxpayers and thus undertook the right o f collec­
tion. The community then requested that the payment be made in interest-incurring in­
stalments; basically a debt to the dragoman. Interestingly, the community was described
in a non-institutional manner as “the people, the rich traders, and the merchants”.90 In
the meantime, emin efendi, the deceased muhassiFs deputy, had an imperial command
issued authorising him to collect the taxes. Since, according to the dragoman’s petition,
this was in contravention o f ancient practice, the dragoman requested the cancellation of
this order and the (re-)affirmation o f his right o f collection.91

89 Ehl-i zimmet reayalarmin iizerlerine edasi lazim gelen cizye-i $er ‘iye ve emval-i minyeleri
feth-i hakaniden berii kaide-i belde tercüman ve reaya vekili marifetiyle tevdi ve taksim. C.ML.
629, undated, c. 1203/1788-89. See a similar description in C.ML. 6251, c.23 Rebiii’l-ahir
1204/10 January 1790.
90 Gah reayadan ve gah agniya-i tticcar ve banrgân [sic: bazirgân] taraflarmdan. C.ML. 629,
undated, c. 1203/1788-89.
91 For further documentation on this affair see C.ML. 20157, 15 Cemaziix’l-evvel 1203/11 Febru­
ary 1789 and HAT. 57178, undated, c. 1206/1791-92.
94 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

According to the petition, the right o f collection o f non-Muslim taxes had always
been delegated to the dragoman since the conquest. This is clearly an exaggeration, as
appeals to ab antiquo rights in such documentation usually are. While we know that since
the seventeenth century dragomans had had the right to tax-collection, this was certainly
neither an exclusive right, nor an institutionalised practice. Archbishops or lay function­
aries were also awarded this function.92
There are multiple layers o f complexity in this incident. First o f all, the echoes of
guarantor (kefif) are abundantly clear. Secondly, the position of Hadjigeorgakis as the
tax-collector by virtue o f his position as ‘representative o f the non-Muslims’ was not
uncontested. Thus, there was no legal guarantee o f the right o f collection, which seems to
have been awarded more on a case-to-case basis rather than in a fully consistent fashion.
Custom, to which Hadjigeorgakis is appealing, could be sufficient legal grounds to ar­
gue for at least a quasi-institutional position.93 Yet, this is more about the projection o f an
institutional identity than its reality. Just as the Church was accustomed to making such
projections, so was Hadjigeorgakis. For despite his argument that the right o f collection
belonged to the dragoman since the conquest, this was a false claim.94
Equally revealing is the way this affair was treated by the Ottoman bureaucracy.
While Hadjigeorgakis’s request was granted, the choice o f words shows how acutely
aware the Ottomans were o f such subtle issues o f institutional identity. Istanbul’s re­
sponse neither refuted nor confirmed the dragoman’s claim o f having the right o f col­
lection since the conquest: “according to custom, the dragoman and representative of
the non-Muslims Hadjiyorgakis” undertook the debt for the taxes, and has the right of
collection.95 A strict interpretation is that the lack o f reference to the conquest regarding
the dating o f the custom means that the claim was not confirmed. In other words, this was
a practice specifically associated with Hadjigeorgakis. Thus, customary law is entirely in
line with the principles o f Islamic law in not recognising corporate entities in the form
o f an office-holder, but only individuals. On the other hand, the ambiguous usage o f the
term “custom” is loose enough to allow for another interpretation confirming Hadjigeor-
gakis’s claim: “custom” is temporally vague, and may or may not stretch back to the
conquest. The circle was thus squared, and all sides could project the image they would
like on the basis o f what we could define as constructive ambiguity.

92 The inconsistency of the system of delegation of tax-collection is also evident in a case from
1800. This time, Hadjigeorgakis and Hadjidavid, the financier of the province (vilayet sarrafi),
were delegated the right of tax-collection. This is one of the rare cases when the involvement of
a sarraf is recorded in the second half of the eighteenth century. C.ML. 29407, 12 Cemaziü’l-
evvel 1215/1 October 1800. Conversely the involvement of sarrafi is much more frequently
documented during the first half of the eighteenth century.
93 On customary law (orf), see Gerber, Islamic Law and Culture, 105-115; for the use of prec­
edent as an argument see S. Faroqhi, ‘Political Activity among Ottoman Taxpayers and the
Problem of Sultanic Legitimation (1570-1650)’, JESHO 35 (1992), 1-39, at 5-6.
94 On appealing to ancient custom to legitimise a claim, see Faroqhi, ‘Political Activity’, 5-6.
95 Ber-mûtad terciiman ve reaya vekili Aci Yorgakiden aldigi deyn temessiikii. HAT. 57178, un­
dated, c. 1206/1791-92.
 BEYOND THE M IL L E T DEBATE 95

Conclusion
Whatever the millet system may have been, it is overrated. At most, if it functioned as
anything resembling a centralised and institutionalised system, it did so from the second
half o f the nineteenth century onwards - a few decades that were a mere fraction o f the
six centuries o f Ottoman existence.96 Projecting the mid-nineteenth century experience,
in the case o f millet, or the eighteenth-century functions o f the ‘representative o f the
reayas’, back to an immemorial past was a legitimation tool that claimed historical depth,
institutional status, and the legal weight o f custom and tradition. The historical record,
however, does not back these claims.
What did exist in lieu o f system? Structures o f communal organisation had great re­
gional variation in their development and evolution over time and space. Local custom,
difficult as it is to legally codify, played a much more important role in the political and
administrative practices than is immediately apparent. Equally underestimated is the role
o f Islamic law and legal traditions in the development o f communal structures. This is
not because it had no room for corporate legal entities, but because it allowed an in-
between condition: the carving o f a quasi-institutional space that in effect permitted the
existence o f legal entities without violating the letter o f the law. These complexities are
lost in the millet system model and national(ist) historiographical trajectories.
Focusing on the institutional development o f structures o f representation in pre-Tan-
zimat-era Cyprus, this essay questioned the social cohesion of, and inquired into conflict­
ing interests within the community. It shows that there was nothing predetermined about
the leadership o f the communal organisation. Religion was neither the sole marker of
identity nor did it guarantee communal homogeneity and cohesion. The path to the for­
mation o f communal institutions was not straight; it was one full o f twists and turns, with
no consistent and uniform evolutionary character o f its own. The formation o f quasi-
institutional structures o f communal leadership entailed a great deal o f experimentation,
the stretching o f the meanings o f titles, and arbitrary declarations. The examination of
these issues reveals a great deal about what it meant to imagine oneself as the head of
a collectivity, but also the complex ways in which such collectivities were constructed.
Examining the development o f quasi-institutional forms o f communal representation
and leadership reveals the non-linear forms that jurisdiction and delegation o f authority
from above and from below took. By the eighteenth century, the representative o f the
non-Muslims in Cyprus (and regardless o f the form such a title took elsewhere in the
empire, the content was essentially the same) was someone who:

• was appointed and recognised by the sovereign in that position because

• that person was in possession o f enough political, social, and economic capital to
perform fiscal and administrative functions in the name o f the community, which,
in turn

96 Dimitris Stamatopoulos is correct in his hypothesis that “[mjaybe one could even speak of a
fundamental reinvention of religious communities in the 19th century, especially during the
second phase of Tanzimat reforms”. See his ‘Rum Millet’, 58-81 at 60n.
96 ANTONIS HADJIKYRIACOU

• directly or indirectly consented to the maintenance o f order and the payment of

taxes, something that
* implied anything between ensuring the economic prosperity o f the community to
its bare sustainability, and the latter case would jeopardise the political-economic
system.

This schematic representation o f delegation and representation at the communal level is

strongly reminiscent o f the circle o f justice.
The creation and manipulation o f semantic ambiguities with reference to the content
o f titles were, perhaps unsurprisingly, fairly common strategies in projecting an institu­
tional identity that claimed an undisputed and historically rooted leadership and author­
ity over the community. The development o f structures o f representation did not follow
a consistent and coherent model according to which a single institution, whether the
Church or the dragoman, was endowed with authority by the Ottoman state as o f old.
While such agents were confident in projecting an image o f corporate identity, and to a
large extent functioned in such a way,97 the reality vis-à-vis the Ottoman state was dif­
ferent. Local representative structures kept either foot within the realms o f the de facto
and the de jure, manipulated this ambiguity, adapted themselves to changing conditions,
and strove for further imperial authority. At stake is understanding the way institutional
identity was constructed, projected, and contested within the context o f the struggle for
legitimacy characterised by asymmetrical relations o f power. Most importantly, target
audiences were not only the tax-paying population o f the time or the imperial capital, but
also future students o f those events and processes.

97 The institutional identity of the office of reaya vekili was becoming increasingly more substan­
tial at the turn of the nineteenth century, primarily because of the activities of Hadjigeorgakis
Komesios and archbishop Kyprianos. Ironically, this increasing ‘institutionalisation’ was on a
personal basis.
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE?
UTTERANCES OF LATE OTTOMAN POLITICALNESS

M arc A ym es *

T hinking a b o u t po l it ic s , as m uch as th e pra ctic e th ereo f , is determined by the search

for an ordering o f worldly affairs - hence, in the Ottomans’ phraseology of ruling, the om­
nipresence o f nizams o f all sorts. Just as ‘politics’ may be defined as “the sphere where
collectively binding decisions are taken for the whole o f a given social group”,*1 it also in­
volves an institutionalised framework that pre-ordains the appearance o f things consid­
ered political, by authorising certain utterances and forbidding others from going public.
Meanwhile, politics is shaped at least as much by the inability to corral the ‘body
politic’ and exert control over the ‘room for debate’. As distinguished from political po­
licing, other forms o f ‘politicalness’ may be characterised as indeterminate, ambiguous,
and open-ended ways o f engaging in public debate. Thoughts and practices may there­
fore be considered political not only when complying with the imprimatur o f the powers
that be but also when overriding it.
To this extent, fakes and forgeries appear very much to be (both thoughtfully and
practically) political. As Alessandro Stanziani puts it, “fraudsters and forgers know the
norm and stick to it, even though they do not respect it”.2 Those who utter counterfeit or
forged currencies indeed do so out o f an eager desire to be embodied and embedded in
the order o f institutional rule - while at the same tim e managing to preserve their out­
sider status vis-à-vis the latter. Many a forger would readily admit to the legitimacy of
official currencies, only to pose a challenge to the ruler’s legal credibility when it comes
to controlling their utterance.
In sum, the linkage o f the forger’s act to ‘politics’ has to do with both state-building
and bottom-up social initiatives. On the one hand, forgeries permeate the realms o f insti-

* Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (Paris), Centre d’Études Turques, Ottomanes,

Balkaniques et Centrasiatiques.
1 In J. Büssow’s terms, Hamidian Palestine: Politics and Society in the District o f Jerusalem
1872-1908 (Leiden and Boston 2011), 9.
2 A. Stanziani, Histoire de la qualité alimentaire (XIXe-XXe siècle) (Paris 2005), 9: « Le frau­
deur ou le falsificateur connaît et applique la norme, même s’il ne la respecte pas » (ail transla­
tions are mine unless otherwise noted).
 MARC AYMES

tutional politics, wherein they induce a dynamics o f normativity and lawfulness associ­
ated with their repression. On the other hand, forgeries prompt a sense o f ‘politicalness’
insofar as their parasitical presence implies a fierce, if muffled, criticism o f the very in­
stitutions that host them.3 Using nineteenth and early twentieth-century Ottoman sources,
the present essay aims to follow each o f these two paths. Yet before setting off, let us for
a while stay put where the road forks: to begin with, how do we know what the Ottomans
meant when they referred to ‘politics’?

I. Talking (about) p o lîtik a

Judging by present-day conceptions o f politics, things or events deemed ‘political’ are

those that prompt public debate. Focusing on utterances (be they linguistic or otherwise)
is a way to ascribe some extent o f analytical relevance to this premise: politics is about
in which terms as well as under which terms matters for debate may (or may not) gain
currency. The same in / under distinction is also to be found in the grammatical nuance
that separates ‘talking about politics’ from ‘talking politics’. If a predicate being talked
about, politics refers to the content o f discourse; turned into an adverb, it encompasses
both content and form. Uttering is therefore not only about producing abstract ideas but
also about linking ideas to statements. At this point political thought and practice merge
into the actual performance o f talking (about) politics.
Using a few revealing utterances as a sample, let us then first see how the Ottoman
authorities, when talking about politics, also took care to talk politics. One such utterance
occurs in the law that came into force in 1865 concerning “the printing and circulating o f
administrative and political news by all sorts o f newspapers and brochures printed and
circulated at the Abode o f Felicity or within the royal domains” .4 These regulations have
been considered to be “inspired by the French press law” in force at the time.5A compari­
son o f its initial clause with that o f the ‘Organic Decree on the Press’ issued in France on
17 February 1852 bears sufficient testimony to this family resemblance.

3 On criticism as a key to the study of Ottoman political thought see M. Sariyannis, ‘Ottoman
Critics of Society and State, Fifteenth to Early Eighteenth Centuries: Toward a Corpus for the
Study of Ottoman Political Thought’, ArchOtt, 25 (2008), 127-150.
4 BOA, Y.EE. 112/26, “dersaadetde ve memalik-i çahanede tab ü neçr olunan her nev’i gazete
ve evrak havadis-i mülkiyye ve polîtikiyye tab ü neçri hakkmda bu kere tanzim olunan nizam-
namedir”, printed text with handwritten annotations, dated 2 §ab‘an 1281 / 19 Kânun-i Evvel
1280 [31 December 1864], Article 36 specifies that “the present law shall come into force as
of January 1st, 1865”. Cf. Düstür, I, 2 (Istanbul 1289 [1872-1873]), 220-226. On Ottoman leg­
islation affecting the press prior to the 1865 law see A. Ayalon, The Press in the Arab Middle
East: A History (New York and Oxford 1995), 111-112; F. Demirel, IL Abdülhamiddôneminde
sansiir (Istanbul 2007), 30-31.
5 Encyclopaedia o f the Ottoman Empire, s.v. ‘Newspapers’ (O. Kologlu), 433. As is the case with
several other laws issued by the Ottoman government in that period, the text was simultane­
ously promulgated in a French version, which will on occasions also be quoted below: BOA,
Y.EE. 112/26, ‘Loi sur la presse’, printed text.
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? 99

1852 French ‘Organic Decree on the Press’: 1865 Ottoman Press Law:
Art. 1. — No newspaper or periodical dealing Art. 1. — No newspaper or periodical dealing
with political matters or social economy, be it with political or administrative matters, be it
issued regularly on a fixed day or by irregular issued regularly on a fixed day or by irregular
deliveries, may be established and published deliveries, and whatever its language, may be
without the government’s prior permission.6 established and published without permission.7

Resemblance is no similitude though: as one crucial difference shows, the Ottoman did
not merely make a tracing o f the French text, but adapted its terminology to their own
standard operating procedure. Hence their replacement o f the reference to “économie
sociale” with a mention o f run-of-the-mill “administrative matters”. When conflating
“political matters” and “social economy”, the 1852 decree paid tribute to the vigour of
socialist thought (and practice) in post-1848 French politics. The Ottoman re-wording
switches over to a quite different logic, whereby “administrative” (miilkiyye) and “politi­
cal” {polîtikiyye) topics are dealt with as parts o f one and the same set.
Ottoman legalese thus merges ‘politics’ and ‘administration’ into one sole and ex­
clusive realm o f government, to the point o f making the two terms sound quasi-synony-
mous. This again occurs in the revised ‘Press Law’ drafted by the Istanbul authorities in
June 1874, although a careflil reading also reveals slight differences in phrasing:

1865 Ottoman Press Law: 1874 Ottoman Press Law (draft):

Art. 9. — It is prohibited to introduce and cir­ Art. 9. — It is prohibited to introduce into the
culate in the royal domains newspapers or other royal domains newspapers or other periodicals
periodicals printed in foreign lands with a view printed in foreign lands with the express pur­
to meddling in and antagonising the Sublime pose of breeding resentment and antagonism to­
State with regard to political and administrative wards the Sublime State, on account of politics
matters.8 or administrative matters.9

6 Quoted in J.-J. F. Rolland de Villargues, Code des lois de la presse interprétées par lajurispru­
dence et la doctrine (Paris 1863), 260: « Aucun journal ou écrit périodique traitant de matières
politiques ou d’économie sociale, et paraissant soit régulièrement et à jour fixe, soit par livrai­
sons et irrégulièrement, ne pourra être créé ou publié sans l’autorisation préalable du gouver­
nement ».
7 BOA, Y.EE. 112/26, loc. cit.: her kangi lisanda olur ise olsun mevadd-i polîtikiyye ve mül-
kiyyeyi çamil olmak üzere gerek suret-i muntazama ve evkat-i muayyenede ve gerek cüz cüz ve
evkat-i gayr-i muayyenede gazete ve sair evrak-i mürettebe istihsal-i ruhsat olunmaksizin ih-
das ü ne$r olunamayacakdir. The French text reads: « Aucun journal ou écrit périodique trai­
tant de matières politiques ou administratives, en quelque langue que ce soit, et paraissant soit
régulièrement et à jour fixe, soit par livraisons et irrégulièrement, ne pourra être créé ou publié
sans l’autorisation du Gouvernement impérial ».
8 BOA, Y.EE. 112/26, loc. cit.: mevadd-i polîtikiyye ve mülkiyyeyi çamil olmak üzere devlet-i
aliyyeye taaruz ve husumet efkâriyla memalik-i ecnebiyyede tab etdirilen gazete ve evrak-i
mürettebe-i sairenin memalik-i çahaneye idhal ü neijri memnudur. The French text reads:
“L’introduction et la circulation de tout journal ou écrit périodique traitant de matières poli-
100 MARC AYMES

Ten years on, what sounded like conflation in 1865 here becomes more clearly (if slight­
ly) dissociated. Yet Ottoman lawmakers still lump together ‘politics’ and ‘administrative
matters’ in one class. Implicit in this phrasing is a definition o f ‘politics’ as nothing more
than a circumscription upon which administrative power may exert its authority.
This in turn, rather than pointing to a supposedly Ottoman-specific ‘mentality’ or
‘culture’, may be paralleled in how, starting in the years before the 1852 decree, French
courts arbitrating press disputes came to define ‘political matters’.910 More often than
not, these definitions merged “everything related to government or the administration
o f cities and states”, and thus encompassed both ‘general politics’ and ‘issues of general
administration’.11 In a way, then, the Ottoman conflation o f mevadd-i polîtikiyye ve mii-
Ikiyye remains in line with this reasoning, which it only makes more explicit. According­
ly, conceiving o f ‘politics’ implies relating it to the regulatory purview o f administrative
bodies. Political thought thus ends up being little more than a praxeology o f public order.
Besides what may surface in officially encoded legal regulations, thoughts about poli­
tics are also to be found permeating more immediately practical documents.12 Such is,
for instance, the case in the report sent to the Grand Vizier in May 1868 by the Governor-
General o f the Mediterranean Islands, Ahmed Pasha. In it, he disparagingly recommends
that Tayyib Pasha, currently posted to Cyprus as a governor, be dismissed right away:
“He certainly says and writes nice and fine words, yet his discourse does not tally with his
deeds, and he spends his time as if on vacation: for more than four years since he took up
office, he has done absolutely nothing that could have provided the state or people with
benefits and favours” .13 As a replacement, Ahmed Pasha continues,

tiques ou administratives et qui serait publié à l’étranger dans un but d’hostilité et d’agression
contre le Gouvernement Impérial, sont interdites dans les États de S.M. le Sultan”.
9 BOA, Y.EE. 112/9, amended draft version of the ‘Press Law’ (matbuat nizamnamesi), 17 Re-
biii’I-ahir 1291 / 21 Mayis 1290 [2 June 1874]: devlet-i aliyye aleyhinde gerekpolîtika ve ge-
rek mevadd-i millkiyyeden dolayi icra-yi garaz il husumet kasdiyla memalik-i ecnehiyyede tab
etdirilmiç olan gazete ve evrak-i mevkute-i sairenin memalik-i çahaneye idhali memnudur.
10 Cf. A. Rubin, Ottoman Nizamiye Courts: Law and Modernity (New York 2011), 7 (emphasis
in the original): “in the late nineteenth century, everyday judicial manifestations of modernity
took various forms in France as much as they were uneven in the Ottoman Empire. [...] New
ideas and practices that came to be associated with modernity emerged roughly at the same
time in many parts of the world in the course of the nineteenth century”.
11 Jurisprudential gloss provided by Rolland de Villargues, Codes des lois, 261-265: « Les expres­
sions : matières politiques doivent s’entendre par leur généralité de tout ce qui a trait au gouver­
nement ou à l’administration des villes et des États » (§2, 6). « Elles embrassent non-seulement
la politique générale, mais encore tout ce qui se rattache à la science du gouvernement et de
l’administration de la cité » (§2,7). « A tout ce qui est relatif soit à des faits, soit à des questions
d’administration générale ou à des actes de l’autorité locale ou municipale » (§2, 9).
12 Here drawing on M. Reinkowski, Die Dinge der Ordnung: Eine vergleichende Untersuchung
über die osmanische Reformpolitik im 19. Jahrhundert (Munich 2005), 32.
13 BOA, i.§D. 5/284, report (tahrirât) from the Governor-General of the Mediterranean Islands
Es-seyyid Ahmed Pasha, 17 Muharrem 1285 / 28 Nisan 1284 [10 May 1868]: güzel giizel
lâkirdilar sôyler ve yazar ise de kavli fiiline gayr-i muvafik olarak ve vaktini eyyam-i ta ‘til
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? 101

circumstances make it necessary [...] that the felicitous Said Pasha, currently serving as Gover­
nor of Mytilene, be appointed. For evident is his ability to multiply the prosperity and improve
the administration of the aforesaid island [Cyprus] as per the requirements of its capacity; and,
evident as well is his cognisance of the rules of politics, so that he will prevent the govern­
ment’s claims from falling into the oppressive hands of foreigners.14

In commenting on this short quotation, two remarkable implications may be em­

phasised. First, politics is tightly knit to a phraseology that makes it part and parcel of
a judicial normativity and legality framed by Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh). The ‘rules
o f politics’ (usûl-i polîtïkd) here come as a substitute for usül al-fiqh, and ‘the govern­
ment’s claims’ (hukuk-i hükûmet) as a supplement to ‘claims o f God’ (huqûq Allah) and
‘claims o f m en’ (huqüq al- ‘ibâd), which constitute the distinctive nomenclature o f this
very fiqh. Politics thus gets confined to the realms o f government, that is, an institution­
alised business o f state. Meanwhile, its tacit definition draws on an analogy between how
sovereigns make decisions at state level and how judges return verdicts or give rulings
in court.
Second, knowledge o f ‘politics’ means, as Ahmed Pasha makes clear, being able to
deal with the claims and encroachments o f ‘foreigners’. Here, as above, the Ottoman
Turkish word for ‘politics’ is polttika. Starting with its Romance etymology, it straight­
forwardly relates to the ‘oppressive’ presence o f non-Ottoman subjects within the Sul­
tan’s domains. Thus in the early and mid 1860s, the Damascus and Aleppo Govemors-
General were flanked by a ‘political officer’ (polttika memuri), also known under the
title o f ‘Director o f Foreign Affairs’ (umur-i ecnebiyye miidiri), whose alleged duty was
“to deal with the foreign consuls in the country” .15 We lack an elaborate description of
this official’s job so far, and Ahmed Pasha’s report shows that governors themselves also
were expected to know what polttika was about. Tayyib Pasha did not: under his tenure
“some foreigners got spoiled by over-indulgence and thus even found themselves in a
position to call the tune on all matters”.16 At least this confirms that Ottoman officials
tended to equate ‘politics’ with the dealings o f ‘foreign affairs’— or should we say, as was
common usage at the Sublime Porte, ‘external affairs’ (hariciye)?
Debates held in the Council o f State in Istanbul during the preparations for yet an­
other Press Law in 1874 shed some further light on the underpinnings o f this notion of

gibi geçirerek dort seneyi miitecaviz olan müddet-i memuriyetinde devlet ii milletce fevaid ii
muhassenâta mucib hiç bir çeyyapmamiç.
14 Ibid.: cezire-i mezkurenin kabiliyeti icabinca tezyid-i ma'muriyeti ile islah-i idaresine kudreti
ve hem de hukuk-i hükûmeti ecnebilerin eyadi-i tagallübüne virmeyecek suretde usûl-i poltti-
kaca ma’lûmati derkâr olan Midillii mutasarrifi saadetlii Said Pa$a’nm ta'yini [...] mevkii
icabindan olub.
15 M. Ma’oz, Ottoman Reform in Syria and Palestine, 1840-1861: The Impact o f the Tanzimat on
Politics and Society (Oxford 1968), 220. Cf. M. Ade, Picknick mit den Paschas: Aleppo und
die levantinische Handelsfirma Fratelli Poche (1853-1880) (Beyrouth and Würzburg 2013),
180-186.
16 BOA, i.ÇD. 5/284, loc. cit.: bazi ecnebiler dahi çimarub her içde sôzlerini etdirmekde bulun-
duklari.
102 MARC AYMES

politics. After a first draft had been submitted by an ad hoc committee, deliberations
ensued in plenary session. At some point

the question of where to attach the Press Administration came up: all concurred that, with re­
gard to the right course of affairs, it was most necessary to have its premises located within the
Sublime Porte. Some nevertheless put forward the view that since permissions issued for the
publication of newspapers as well as proceedings taken because of their contents appertain to
internal affairs, there could be no suitability in affiliating the aforesaid Administration to the il­
lustrious Ministry of External Affairs. Under the Sublime Sultanate, however, the Ministry of
External Affairs has not been confined to foreign affairs only: since time immemorial some of
the chancery business has been referred thereto. Besides, what newspapers publish about poli­
tics is eminently related to the aforementioned Ministry. Hence it was judged fit and proper to
maintain the Press Administration’s current affiliation.17

This debate, although condensed into a few lines in the minutes, provides us with re­
vealing insights into how the identification o f ‘politics’ with ‘external affairs’ played
out in practice. Eventually, the Council o f State resolved that ‘external affairs’ ought not
to be confused with ‘foreign affairs only’ (sir f umur-i ecnebiyye). All kinds o f issues,
be they related to foreign countries or not, were indeed subsumed under this heading,
which thus also encompassed some degree o f ‘chancery business’ (mesalih-i divaniyye).
On reflection, it seems that handling ‘external affairs’ meant making decisions at the
state’s top levels, whereas, by contrast, ‘internal affairs’ hinged upon routine proce­
dures o f administrative control, such as issuing permissions for and taking proceedings
against publishers. This differentiatipn between the ‘interior’ o f administration and the
‘exterior’ o f politics already framed Ahmed Pasha’s argument above: “cognisance of
the rules o f politics” was only one o f the duties to be fulfilled by Cyprus governors,
the other being the “ability to multiply the prosperity and improve the administration
[idare \ o f the aforesaid island”.
Talking (about) politics thus involved, on the part o f Ottoman officials, endorsing
an all-pervasive topology o f rule. On the inside, undisturbed toil and smooth tax collec­
tion were in order. On the outside were unpredictable utterances, fickle claims made by
spoiled foreigners or op-eds circulated by Ottoman subjects. This symbolic dichotomy

17 BOA, Y.EE. 112/9, report of deliberations held in ‘plenary session’ (heyet-i umumiyye) of the
Council of State ($ura-yi devlet) following recommendations submitted by the latter’s Board
of Re-organisations (daire-i tanzimat), 17 Rebiii’l-ahir 1291 / 21 Mayis 1290 [2 June 1874]:
matbuat idaresinin ne tarafa merbut olmasi iktiza edecegi meselesi der-miyan kdmarak ifbu
idarenin bab-i âli dahilinde bulunmasmm maslahaten elzem oldigindan reyler ittifak etmek-
le beraber gazete neçri içün ruhsat i ‘tasi ve gazetelerin miindericatindan dolayi lâzim ge-
len muameldtm ifasi umur-i dahiliyyeden olmak hasebiyle idare-i mezburenin hariciye ne-
zaret-i celilesine merbutiyeti münasib olamayacagi bazi dra tarafindan irad edilmiç ise de
saltanat-i seniyyede hariciye nezareti sirf umur-i ecnebiyyeye münhasir olmayub mesalih-i
divaniyyeden bazilari mine 'l-kadim oraya muhavvel edügüne ve gazetelerin polîtikaya miite-
allik neçriyati haysiyetiyle nezaret-i müçarünileyhaya cihet-i münasebeti bulundigina nazaren
idare-i matbuatm merbutiyet-i hdziresinde ibkasi [...] bi’t-tensib. For more on how the Press
Administration’s affiliation fluctuated in this period see Demirel, Sansiir, 44.
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? 103

contrasts with the usual ‘domestic’ v. ‘foreign policy’ allotment. Politics is not always
where one would expect it to be.
Such preliminary remarks are meant to light up a warning signal: in Ottoman history
as elsewhere, the business o f relating words to concepts and concepts to contexts remains
a tricky one. This caveat becomes even more relevant when one sets out to unravel what
curious links could exist between ‘political’ practice and the forger’s act.

II. Fakes at the stake, fo r s i y a s e t ’s sake

By studying in and under which terms politics could be conceived of, one is led to trace
the lineaments o f a complex connection between the utterance o f counterfeit currencies
and the logic o f Ottoman ‘politics’. For fakes and forgeries intriguingly straddle the in/
out topology outlined above. As an appropriation o f the fiduciary currencies o f the legal
order, they circumvent the routine operations o f administrative control and certification.
Meanwhile, their utterance also questions the authenticity o f the sovereign’s very de­
crees, thereby infringing the chief symbols o f government authority - which is why the
repression o f forgeries often goes hand in hand with upgrades in lèse-majesté jurispru­
dence. Counterfeits are thus simultaneously, as Ottoman officials would put it, “political
and administrative matters” (mevadd-i polîtikiyye ve miilkiyye). Coping with their utter­
ance is as much an ‘external’ affair as it is an ‘internal’ one.
Starting in the mid nineteenth century, the Ottoman authorities engaged in a large-
scale fabrication and circulation o f printed documents. Forms o f all kinds proliferated.
Bills and bonds multiplied. This mechanical reproducibility o f the governmental written
toolkit allowed rulers keen on a ‘reformed’ notion o f state control to multiply and disem­
body their technologies o f administration. Yet it also trivialised the experience o f forging
the state’s currencies. Once in circulation, look-alikes implied the wholesale cancellation
o f originals and costly replacement procedures. Such was the case in particular with pa­
per money. Thus in late 1855

twenty-five hundred thousand and fifteen bills of exchange [lit. ‘cash documents’] without in­
terest, amounting to eighty-four thousand, two hundred purses, were newly printed at the Privy
Purse, so as to be substituted for the ancient ones. Right after two batches of eighteen hundred
and fifty-eight thousand pieces had been exchanged, some counterfeiters imitated them. It was
then required by sublime order that the rest of the aforementioned circulated documents, con­
sisting in two hundred thousand and fifty-seven thousand pieces, be cancelled, and that sheets
of a new kind be printed instead. The High Council [of Judicial Ordinances] therefore deliber­
ated whether or not to have the Ministry of Finance send the aforementioned cancelled docu­
ments, as well as the exchanged eighteen hundred and fifty-eight thousand pieces of the an­
cient kind, to the Sublime Porte, along with officials in charge of them. There these documents
would be burnt before the High Council, as is being done in similar cases.18

18 BOA, 1.MVL. 345/14946, minutes from the High Council of Judicial Ordinances (meclis-i
vâlâ-yi ahkam-i adliyye), late Rebiii’l-evvel 1272 [early December 1855]: [...] atîkiyle tebdil
olunmak iizere hazine-i hassa 'da miiceddeden tab olunan seksen dort bin ikiyiiz kiselikyigirmi
beçyük on be$ bin adedfaizsiz evrak-i nakdiyyeden iki kalem on sekizyiik elli sekiz bin adedi-
104 MARC AYMES

While their euphemistic phrasing here allows the High Council secretaries to meet
the requirements o f standard rhetorical humility, it should not be taken at face value: un­
der the guise o f ‘deliberations’, the report clearly states a resolute recommendation to the
Sultan. The plan put forward is that cancelled fakes meet the same fate as obsolete origi­
nals. All ‘cash documents’ deemed improper have to be destroyed, whatever the reasons
that make them unfit for circulation. It makes little difference whether annulment results
from forgery or from antiquity. What counts is that irregular documents do not impair the
state’s regulatory control over money matters. Here, then, the repression o f forgery ap­
pears motivated by the administrative necessity to keep the country’s legal tender under
control. In this respect it may be described, using the officials’ terminology highlighted
above, as an ‘internal’ operation.
Meanwhile, these measures dovetail with yet another Ottoman conception o f politics.
Instead o f polîtika above, ‘politics’ is now being conceived o f in terms o f siyaset— name­
ly, punishment for reasons of expendiency.19 A supplement to sharia penalties in matters
canon law did not cover, siyaset generally meant, according to Uriel Heyd’s Studies in
Old Ottoman Criminal Law, “severe corporal punishment in various forms”.20 One o f
these was the amputation of a hand, which, apart from being featured in the legal doctrine
o f the kadi’s ‘discretionary punishment’ (to ‘zir), was also put to good use by jurisconsults
who codified sultanic law (kanun). Most noticeably, it became a retribution “for habitu­
ally forging decrees or legal certificates. As an administrative punishment (siyaseten),
it was inflicted also for counterfeiting as well as for clipping (kirmak) coins”.21 Siyaset-
wise, forgeries o f all kinds thus appear to have been o f great concern to those who de­
fined the contours o f ‘political’ lawfulness.
At its harshest, siyaset could also refer to capital punishment, again inflicted for reasons
o f expediency - what Ottoman officials themselves used to call ‘execution for political
motives’ (siyaseten katl).22 Uttering false coins or forging state documents could at times

nin atikiyle tebdil olundigmi miiteakib ban sahtekârdan buna taklid etmeleriyle evrak-i mer-
kumeden salifiX ’z-zikr ne$r olunandan maadasi olan iki yiik elli yedi bin adedinin battal ediler-
ek ve yerine eczali olarak bir nev 'i evrak tabi mukteza-yi irade-i seniyyeden bulunmagla zikr
olunan battal evrak ile tebdil olunan on sekiz yiik elli sekiz bin aded evrak-i atîkenin emsali
vechile meclis-i vâlâ piçgâhinda hark olunmak iizere memurlariyla evrak-i merkumenin bab-i
âli’y e gônderilmesi hususunun nezaret-i mii$ariinileyhaya [= maliye nezaretine] havalesi me-
clis-i vâlâ ’da tezekkür kilmmif.
19 R. Peters, Crime and Punishment in Islamic Law: Theory and Practicefrom the Sixteenth to the
Twenty-First Century (Cambridge and New York 2005), 196. This translation itself, however,
remains a matter of expediency, which does not militate against a more inclusive perspective
on the historical semantics of siyaset: cf. B. Lewis, ‘Siyâsa’, in A. H. Green (ed.), In Quest of
an Islamic Humanism: Arabic and Islamic Studies in Memory o f Mohamed al-Nowaihi (Cairo
1984), 3-14.
20 U. Heyd, Studies in Old Ottoman Criminal Law, ed. V. L. Ménage (Oxford 1973), 264.
21 Ibid., 265.
22 A. Mumcu, Osmanli devletinde siyaseten katl (Ankara 1963). Cf. EP, s.v. ‘Capital punishment’
(C. Lange), URL : http://referenceworks.brillonline.com/entries/encyclopaedia-of-islam-3/
capital-punishment-COM_25344 (accessed 26 November 2015).
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? 105

count as part o f such ‘political motives’.23 In the 1855 document quoted above, nothing
was said o f the sentence pronounced on the counterfeiters themselves. Strikingly, though,
the treatment inflicted upon unreliable bills matched a similarly ‘political’ framework of
suppression. Beyond its practical efficiency, their destruction by fire was meant to be a
symbol-laden measure, all the more so since it was to take place “before the High Coun­
cil”, an institution where top dignitaries discussed virtually all issues regarding govern­
ment policy at the time.24 Bills were thus intended to be quite officially (if not publicly) ex­
ecuted. Withdrawing and cancelling them did not suffice: they had to be burnt at the stake.
Documents, not only people, could thus be executed for political motives. Arguably,
such executions may be better understood against the backdrop o f the increasing circula­
tion o f printed documents that took place throughout the Sultan’s domains at that time.
Printed matter was an effective tool o f legal consistency, yet a menace to the symbolic
tenets o f sultanic legitimacy, inasmuch as it substituted the lacklustre artificiality o f bu­
reaucratic wheelwork to the charismatic aura o f the ‘calligraphic state’.25 While enhanc­
ing the ‘internal’ reliability o f administration, they upended public trust in the ‘external’
transcendence o f the government’s aegis. On this account, the need smoothly to adminis­
ter the circuits o f monetary exchange only marginally accounts for the recommendation
that counterfeit or obsolete currency be “burnt before the High Council”. More crucially,
the staging o f this ‘execution’ reveals how very much ‘political’ an annihilation it was:
all that usurped the symbols o f sultanic power, or even bore witness to the possibility of
such an usurpation, deserved punishment for reasons o f state.
Forgery politics therefore aims at a symbolic significance that exceeds the daily exi­
gencies o f administration. Similarly to polîtika above, the realms o f siyaset reach beyond
the confines o f ‘internal’ matters. What is political about money (and its counterfeiting)
is that, issues o f legal tender status notwithstanding, it replicates the key emblems of
the sovereign’s authority. Forgery not only upsets the due course o f administrative pro­
ceedings, it furthermore threatens the ruler’s rights to govern— something close to what
Ahmed Pasha called “the government’s claims” (hukuk-i hükûmet) in the 1868 report
quoted above. The same holds true o f other types o f offence subject to siyaset punish­
ment. As stressed by Uriel Heyd,

punishable with death are many offences against public order and security, the possession of
fire-arms by civilians (in Egypt), serious violations of market regulations, counterfeiting, acts
of disobedience against the Sultan and the spreading of calumnies about him, the illegal sale of
grain and export of arms to foreign (Christian) countries, etc.26

23 Mumcu, Siyaseten katl, 53: “Kalpazanlik, devlet evrakmda sahtekârhk cürmünü içleyenler, si-
yaseten katledilebilirler”.
24 M. Seyitdanhoglu, Tanzimat devrinde Meclis-i Vâlâ, 1838-1868 (Ankara 1994).
25 B. Messick, The Calligraphic State: Textual Domination and History in a Muslim Society
(Berkeley, Los Angeles and Oxford 1993). Cf. S. Deringil, The Well-Protected Domains: Ideol­
ogy and the Legitimation o f Power in the Ottoman Empire 1876-1909 (London and New York
1998).
26 Heyd, Studies, 261. Also see El2, s.v. ‘Djazâ’ - ii. Ottoman Penal Law’ (U. Heyd).
 106 MARC AYMES

However eclectic this listing might seem, on the whole it clearly appears that Ottoman
sultanic law recommended the death penalty for all those who unduly appropriated the
sovereign’s claim to rule. Political punishment, in sum, applied not so much to legality
breaches as to infringements o f the Sultan’s legitimacy.27
Here the linkage between acts o f forgery and ‘politics’ latches on to a definition of
‘politics’ as state monopoly. Forgeries are political inasmuch as they partake in the con­
tentious process through which sovereign states come to assert their prerogatives. This
in particular holds true of monetary policies. As stressed by studies o f early modem
state formation, the struggle against forgers offered “a means to establish the rule o f law,
which itself implied political lawfulness”.28 Enduring parasites upon the realms of law
and order, counterfeits in their turn obliged the authorities to carry out constant mainte­
nance checks, even when (even more so since) coinage monopolisation obtained. In sum,
“the forger’s experience steered a path for the state’s experience”.29
This does not imply that fakes and forgeries prompted a political treatment that was
designed specifically for them. As shown by the 1855 report, all ‘cancelled’ documents
were indiscriminately executed. Yet such an equality o f punishment ought not to dis­
suade us from looking for meaningful differences. The reasons why obsolete bills had
become irrelevant were obviously not similar to the rationale behind the suppression of
counterfeit money. The former was legitimate currency only recently turned into a thing
o f the past, whereas the latter was illegitimate through and through. Out-of-date money
had to disappear as per the Sultan’s instructions, while counterfeits resulted from an
unauthorised usurpation, an intentional violation o f the sovereign’s rights. In sum, there
were different motives behind their similar punishment. These questions o f meaning and
intention remain to be addressed here. They point to yet another way in which the utter­
ance o f forgeries may be deemed political, a way that shifts our attention from politics as
state monopoly, and looks rather for it in relation to social initiatives.

27 C. Rorner and N. Vatin draw similar conclusions in their ‘Faux, usage de faux, faux témoi­
gnage, accusation mensongère et usurpation d’identité à la fin du règne de Soliman le Magni­
fique’, in J. Zimmermann with C. Herzog and R. Motika (eds), Osmanische Welten: Quellen
und Fallstudien. Festschriftfür Michael Ursinus (Bamberg 2016), 509-561.
28 O. Caporossi and C. Lastécouères, ‘Pour une histoire sociale et européenne du faux mon­
nayage’, Revue de Pau et du Béarn, 34 (2007), 211 : « la répression du faux monnayage s’im­
pose d’emblée aux yeux du pouvoir souverain comme un moyen de construire la norme judi­
ciaire et, à travers elle, la légalité politique ».
29 O. Caporossi, ‘Traces, sources, savoirs : la monarchie hispanique et le faux monnayage (1530-
1921 )’, Revue de Pau et du Béarn, 34 (2007), 230: « l’expérience du faux conduit l’expérience
de l’Etat ». While dealing with commercial issues rather than with currency policy, Peter An­
dreas’s argument that “smuggling [...] has been as much about building up the American state
as about subverting it”, so that “illicit trade and related activities therefore not only challenged
but also empowered the new American state”, bears certain similarities to this approach: P. An­
dreas, Smuggler Nation: How Illicit Trade Made America (Oxford and New York 2013), xi and
7.
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? 107

III. ‘P olitical business ’in the forging

Coping with counterfeit official currencies was undoubtedly, as highlighted above, “at
the core o f the state-building process” that delineated the history o f early modem and
modern politics.30 Yet one should avoid assimilating political thought and practice to
a by-product o f state-building endeavours. ‘Politics’ also - and more crucially perhaps
- involves groups or activities not directly related to statecraft issues.31 To be sure, ‘po­
litical initiatives from the bottom u p ’ usually find themselves compelled to manoeuvre
vis-à-vis the claims staked by government officials. Yet in so doing they establish a criti­
cal interference with state-centred normative topologies, thereby contributing to resetting
the political agenda for their own purposes.32
The sources adopted for the present study, drawing on archives compiled as per of­
ficial instructions, allow but a sparse description o f such unruliness. Clearly forgery and
its punishment are being approached here from the perspective o f law- and decision­
makers. Further studies would be in order so as to gain insight into whether and how
forgery issues pervaded wider social spheres. Still, some documents show, even if in a
partial manner, how disturbingly political the activities o f forgers could become to the
powers that be.
Although related to a political, military, and judicial context whose discussion would
go beyond the scope o f this piece, a document dated late February 1922 deserves quota­
tion here. In it a man described as a “first lieutenant serving as second-class reservist”,
Ahmed Zühdî Efendi, is said to stand trial “on suspicion o f various offences: he has been
busy with politics, he made up and used forged bonds”.33 These few well-chosen words
show that Ziihdi Efendi’s judges considered his ‘political business’ (siyasetle içtigal) an
offence in itself, thus acknowledging it to be political in the first place. This recognition
would have been unlikely had they yet again referred to siyaset as the realm o f state af­
fairs where the hoi polloi may not intrude (whatever ‘state’ may have meant in that year
1922). Here, then, one has to suppose that a rival understanding o f siyaset was brought
into play: one that meant ‘politics’ in the broadest sense o f the term, as something which
occurs wherever and whenever people manage to voice opinions and publicly debate

30 Caporossi, ‘Traces’, 229: « Entre 1530 et 1921, les déséquilibres et la discontinuité de la ré­
pression de la criminalité monétaire sont véritablement au cœur de la construction de l’État ».
31 Büssow, Hamidian Palestine, 10, thus suggests adopting Pierre Bourdieu’s conception of ‘poli­
tics as a “field” of social activity’, so as to stress that it “includes both the explicit rules of the
political game, such as those laid down in state laws, and the implicit rules political actors may
follow, such as those prescribed by kinship or patronage” (emphasis in the original).
32 See A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), Political Initiatives ‘from the Bottom Up’in the Ottoman Empire.
Halcyon Days in Crete VII: A Symposium Held in Rethymno 9-11 January 2009 (Rethymno
2012). P. Clastres’s work remains a defining read in this respect: La Société contre l ’État. Re­
cherches d ’anthropologiepolitique (Paris 1974), trans. R. Hurley and A. Stein, Society against
the State: Essays in Political Anthropology (Cambridge MA 1987).
33 BOA, I.DUiT 178/84, sultanic order dated 1 receb 1340 (28 February 1922): ceraim-i muhtelife
ile tazannun olarak siyasetle içtigal ve sahte vesika tasni ve istimal eylemesi. Elsewhere in the
same document the suspect is described as ikinci sinif ihtiyat mülâzim-i ewelî.
108 MARC AYMES

them.34 This disturbing sense o f politicalness lingered within and beyond officially cor­
doned politics. As much as he contravened the rules o f the latter, Zühdî Efendi showed
he could readily practise the former. His ‘business’ could do without official sanction,
therefore remaining an unlegitimised (if not illegitimate) one. Formally accredited po­
litical authorities took offence, but recognised this disturbance as something political all
the same.
Lacking further explanation or background, Zühdî Efendi’s incrimination makes it
difficult to flesh out what exactly he was taken to court for. But more than the pursuit
o f a tentative contextualisation what I find interesting here is to take note o f the kind of
‘collocation’ that could be established between ‘politics’ and forgery in that case. As a
matter o f fact, it does not take a stretch o f the imagination to hypothesise why the fabrica­
tion and circulation o f ‘bonds’ (vesika) should be related to ‘political business’ at large.
Insofar as they impacted on trust in currency, they were bound to cause concern to the
general public (siyaset #2) if not to the state authorities themselves (siyaset# 1). Already
in the early 1840s, the Ottoman Minister o f Finance Saib Pasha stressed that “while such
spurious bonds may cause no harm at all to the Treasury, they do injure God’s servants
and subject them to loss and baseness”.35 Chronologically distant as they may appear,
these two utterances o f fake bonds confirm that forging had to do with politics in more
than one respect.
Mutatis mutandis, the appearance and circulation o f false news in the press may also
appear a way o f ‘doing politics’ in this unofficial (and therefore somehow offensive)
manner. It therefore might be useful (though again partial) to read further what the Otto­
man lawmakers had to say in this regard. They too, after all, were practitioners: abstract
as they may sound, their writings aimed at organising the realms o f practice. Or to be
more precise: they provided the outline o f a theory o f practice. Let us get back, for in­
stance, to the 1865 Press Law:

Art. 26 - Newspaper publishers who intentionally and for some wicked purposes print false
news, run off fabricated documents and certificates, or insert news and documents of this kind

34 El2, s.v. “Siyasa - 1. In the sense of statecraft, the management of affairs of state and, eventu­
ally, that of politics and political policy” (C. E. Bosworth), 694: “in Ottoman Turkish, whereas
siyaset had been almost exclusively used in regard to physical punishment for offences against
the state (as, e.g. in the kanunname of Mehemmed II), during the course of the 19th century it
began to acquire the meaning of “politics”, with Ottoman reformers of the mid-19th century
now demanding hukuk-i siyasiyye, so that the old sense of “punishment” rapidly disappeared.”
Contra the latter assertion see Ç. Mardin, ‘Center-Periphery Relations, a Key to Turkish Poli­
tics?’, Daedalus, 102 (1973), 173: “Today, siyaset means politics in Turkish, and siyaseten katl
means condemnation to death for reasons o f state, but in earlier official parlance siyaset (poli­
tics) was also a synonym for a death sentence imposed for reasons of state. This grim connota­
tion is the one which siyaset still retained for peasants in a study carried out in 1968 and 1969.”
35 BOA, i.DH. 30/1412, #1, memorandum from the Minister of Finance Saib Pasha, n.d. [~ 1256
/ 1840-41]: egerçe isbu kalb kaimelerden hazine-i maliyyeye bir gûnezarar terettüb etmez ise
de bu maddede ibadullah mutazarrir ve mübtelâ-yi hasar olmalari.
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? 109

from other papers, shall be punished with six-month to one-year imprisonment, or with a ten-
to fifty-gold fine.36

Be they untruthful ideas, documentary fabrications, or unverified sources, all kinds of

misleading utterances could thus easily be lumped together as variations on a single
theme. Content and form were thus jointly liable to the same treatment of forgery as
political disturbance.
Key to this notion o f politicalness is the issue o f intentions. The utterance o f forgeries
deserves punishment only if done “intentionally and for some wicked purposes” (taam-
müden ve bir sû-i niyete mebni kasderi). The law’s emphasis on this aspect provides a
marked contrast with the document quoted above, where punishment for political mo­
tives was meted out indiscriminately to all improper ‘cash documents’, be they obsolete
or counterfeit, regardless o f intentionality issues. As shown above, such treatment rested
on the idea that ‘politics’ was at the ruler’s sole discretion. It was therefore virtually
inconceivable to engage in ‘political business’ on one’s own initiative: only by virtue
o f the sovereign’s ruling would one’s business be hallmarked as ‘political’. As per this
conception o f politics, the utterance o f counterfeit money implied no more political pre­
meditation than the circulation o f obsolete currency. The politicalness o f forgeries could
only (if ever) be pronounced after the fact, without its perpetrators’ will. It occurred more
by accident than design.
The 1865 Press Law, by contrast, turns siyaset into something else. Politics is what
matters to the general public. It is by definition something ordinary people may inten­
tionally engage in. Hence the possibility that the forging o f documents may be part of
one’s ‘political business’. This politicalness has its roots not in the sovereign’s will to foil
lèse-majesté but in the forger’s premeditated endeavour to gnaw away at publicly trusted
currencies. On this account, the utterance o f counterfeit money has much in common
with the publication o f false news or fabricated documents by newspapers editors. All are
political by design, not by coincidence.
Here as above, reference to the 1852 French ‘Organic Decree on the Press’ is in order
when attempting to further unpack this politics o f ‘wicked purposes’ with regard to its
theoretical and practical contexts:

Art. 15. - The publication or reproduction of false news, fabricated, forged or misleadingly at­
tributed documents, shall be punished with a 50- to 1,000-franc fine. If publication or repro­
duction are carried out in bad faith or in a manner likely to disturb the public peace, the penalty
shall be a one-month to one-year imprisonment, and a 500- to 1,000-franc fine. The maximum

36 BOA, Y.EE. 112/26, loc. cit. : bir gazeteci taammüden ve bir sû-i niyete mebni kasden havadis-i
kâzibe ve yahud evrak ii senedat-t musanna tab ider veya bu makule havadis ii evraki diger
bir gazeteden naklen derc eyler ise bir aydan bir seneye kadar habs ve yahud on altundan elli
altuna kadar ceza-yi nakdl ahziyla mücazat idiliir. The French text reads: « La publication ou
la reproduction, faites avec intention et de mauvaise foi, de nouvelles fausses, de pièces fabri­
quées ou falsifiées, sera punie d’un emprisonnement d’un mois à un an, ou d’une amende de
dix à cinquante livres. »
 110 MARC AYMES

penalty shall be applied whenever publication or reproduction is both likely to disturb the pub­
lic peace and carried out in bad faith.37

As will again be apparent here, Ottoman lawmakers closely followed the French decree’s
wording when drafting the 1865 legislation. But significantly enough, they chose to skirt
around the issue o f what was ‘likely to disturb the public peace’, preferring to lay empha­
sis (in typically redundant style) on notions akin to ‘mauvaise f o i '. On first reading, this
would seem to imply that they ruled out the sense o f politicalness that explicitly perme­
ated the French text. I would rather contend to the contrary: Ottoman lawmakers actually
generalised and systematised the political implications o f press forgeries. In their view,
any intentional falsity, if reported in the press, was intrinsically disturbing public peace.
To them it therefore went without saying that when it came to the forging o f public opin­
ion, ‘wicked purposes’ inevitably involved ‘political business’. This also explains why
they felt no need to institute a sliding scale o f crime and punishment the way the French
did. All in all, one may conclude that to those who drafted the 1865 Ottoman Press Law,
politics sprang from the insincerity o f statements rather than from their general tenor.
What was being said counted only in relation to the (un)trustworthiness o f the utterance.
Content was not to be dissociated from intent.
Still, inferring intent from content was no easy task. Formal compliance, ‘nice and
fine words’, made it arduous to pronounce on trustworthiness.38 Conversely, it could end
up more practical to label certain utterances ‘treacherous’ or ‘treasonous’, a convenient
topos when it comes to excluding members from the body politic. More often than not,
the practice o f politics therefore came down to dealing with the ambiguity o f expres­
sions.39 In this regard, it had much to do with close-reading.
This could be more acutely experienced a few decades later when, following the
1908 constitutional revolution, freedom o f the press became openly debated within the
Ottoman realms.40 In early 1909, lawmakers started working on an updated set o f press
regulations, which took its final shape in the aftermath o f the counter-revolutionary coup
attempt of 13-27 April 1909.41 Admittedly, the bill that the Unionist-dominated Chamber

37 Quoted in Rolland de Villargues, Code des lois, 276-277: « La publication ou la reproduction

de nouvelles fausses, de pièces fabriquées, falsifiées ou mensongèrement attribuées à des tiers,
sera punie d’une amende de 50 fr. à 1,000 fr. Si la publication ou reproduction est faite de mau­
vaise foi, ou si elle est de nature à troubler la paix publique, la peine sera d’un mois à un an
d’emprisonnement, et d’une amende de 500 fr. à 1,000 fr. Le maximum de la peine sera appli­
qué si la publication ou reproduction est tout à la lois de nature à troubler la paix publique et
faite de mauvaise foi. »
38 Again here borrowing from BOA, Î.ÇD. 5/284, loc. cit.: giizelgiizel lakirdilar.
39 On the ‘productivity of ambiguity’ in revolutionary constitutionalist context(s) see N. Sohrabi,
Revolution and Constitutionalism in the Ottoman Empire and Iran (Cambridge 2011), 26-27.
40 See L K. Yosmaoglu, ‘Chasing the Printed Word: Press Censorship in the Ottoman Empire,
1876-1913’, TSAJ, 27 (2003), 31 sqq.\ O. Kologlu, 1908 Basin Patlamasi (Istanbul 2005);
A. Tamer Torun, “‘Matbuat hiirriyetimiz var mi yok mu?” 1908 sonrasi basin ôzgürlügü ve
Matbuat Kanunu tartiçmalan’, Kebikeç, 40 (2015), 93-118.
41 On the ‘31 March incident’ (as the event was dubbed according to the Julian calendar) and its
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? Ill

o f Deputies passed on 29 July 1909 did not explicitly deal with matters o f ambiguity.42
Neither did earlier drafts ( lâyiha) or deliberation reports (<mazbata) made available by
later publications.43 And yet the ‘Yildiz Papers’ kept at the Ottoman Archives in Istanbul
reveal that an alternative (much longer) version was formulated at some point during
the drafting process. Significantly enough, one o f its final clauses states the necessity to
criminalise forms o f equivocal language for public order’s sake:

Art. 49. - Where it can be firmly inferred that written words replete with enigmatical and am­
biguous expressions have been used by means of the press against a personality or a constituted
body, or in contravention of public civility, legal action shall be taken against the manager in
charge [of the press] on account of the situation as ascertained. The court will pronounce sen­
tence on him as per the penalties carried by the present law.44

What was lacking in the 1865 law above is being explicitly articulated: aspersions cast
on personalities (zat), constituted bodies (heyet) or public civility (âdab-i umumiyyè) at
large indeed come as an elaborate equivalent for what in the 1852 French antecedent
was said to be “disturbing the public peace”.45 Hence the passage quoted here provides

repercussions see Sohrabi, Revolution, 224-267. Cf. A. Kansu, Politics in Post-Revolutionary

Turkey, 1908-1913 (Leiden, Boston and Cologne 2000), 77ff Both renderings of the events
place great emphasis on the press both as a historical source and as a protagonist.
42 Original text available in Düstür, II, Vol. 1 (Istanbul 1911), 395-403. Strong emphasis has
again been laid on the text's strong resemblance to the French Law on the Freedom of the Press
of29 July 1881: foradetailed comparison see Ô. Türesay, ‘Être intellectuel à la fin de l’Empire
ottoman. Ebüzziya Tevfik (1849-1913) et son temps’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Institut
National des Langues et Civilisations Orientales, 2008, 418-422.
43 Several such documents are provided (in the Latin alphabet) in the Meclis-i Mebusan Zabit
Ceridesi, first term, 69th session (28 April 1325, according to the Ottoman financial calendar),
as an appendix to the meeting’s proceedings. See also S. R. îskit, Türkiyede Matbuat Rejimleri
(Istanbul 1939), ‘archive section’ (arçiv kismt), 17-67. For an insightful analysis of parliamen­
tary proceedings see A. -I. Moroni, ‘Une nation impériale. Construire une communauté poli­
tique ottomane moderne au lendemain de la révolution de 1908’, unpublished Ph.D. disserta­
tion, École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, 2013, 408-418.
44 BOA, Y.EE. 31/9, printed draft version (lâyiha) of the new Press Law (matbuat kanuni), anno­
tated in pen, n.d. [dated 6 Rebiii’l-ahir 1327 / 27 April 1909 in the archives catalogue]: Kirk
toquzunci madde matbuat vasitasiyla bir zat veya bir heyet aleyhinde ve âdab-i umumiyye
hilâfmda rümuz ü ihamat ile yazdan sôzler karine-i kat’îyye He anlaçüdigi takdirde mahke-
mece tebeyyiin edecek hale gôre miidir-i mes 'uli hakkmda i$bu kanunun ta ‘yin etdigi ceza hiik-
mii icra olunur.
45 Arguably, the wording chosen by Ottoman lawmakers is not void of ambiguity here, since ‘per­
son’ would be as fit a translation of ‘zat’ as ‘personality’. Still, whenever other such zevat (to use
the plural form of zat) make an appearance elsewhere in the 1909 law, they always come up as
people endowed with official capacities and prerogatives. Articles 35 and 38 of the same draft
version thus respectively deal with “defamation” (zem) and “invective” (kadh) against “minis­
ters, viziers, ulema, sheikhs of high rank, spiritual leaders, officials of the Sublime State, and
person(alitie)s acting in their capacity as public servants (vükelâ ve viizera ve ulema ve kibar-i
mefayih ve rüesa-yi ruhaniyye ve me ’murin-i devlet-i âliyye ve me ’murin sifatiyla hareket etmi$
 112 MARC AYMES

us with a condensed generalisation o f the precepts analysed above. It does so in three

respects at least:

1. First, it bespeaks the maintenance o f a conceptual continuum between institution­

al and public politics: deference towards ‘personalities’ and ‘constituted bodies’
refers to the former, while respect for ‘public civility’ hints at the latter.
2. Second, norms o f civility come up as a touchstone o f licit circulation o f ‘written
w ords’ in print: the law implies that even when politics got out o f the sovereign’s
hand, as became a general rule after the 1908 revolution and even more so in the
aftermath o f the ‘31 March incident’, public tranquillity could and should still
obtain, provided that contention and disagreement abided by the art o f fair dis­
putation.46 As the law ’s final draft rephrased it (Art. 25): “criticism, if within the
limits o f civil debate, may never constitute a crime” .47
3. Finally, trustworthy debate by definition requires forbearance from using veiled
terms and two-edged insinuations: only if couched in all genuineness are argu­
ments to be considered licit. Forty years on, the 1909 lawmakers’ worry about
“enigmatical and ambiguous expressions” thus reiterated the 1865 Press Law’s
intentionalist rationale. Fleeting as it may seem, this anxiety to rid politics of
ambiguity shows that not only deliberate forgeries but many other sorts o f hidden
transcripts could appear politically disturbing.

* * *

Approaching ‘thought’ in conjunction with ‘practice’, as this volume’s main title sug­
gests, implies combining the universalist potential o f concepts with the historical speci­
ficity o f in situ practical endeavours. To the extent that politics is both thought o f and
practised, our understanding o f it needs to rely on a double-edged contextualisation. On
the one hand, one may posit that context is what historically determines the conditions
o f possibility o f a given action; on the other, it may also be approached as what imparts
conceptual relevance to interpretations o f this action. The search for meaning may con­
cur with the girdle o f facts, yet it remains exposed to the meddling o f other realisations.

olan zevat hakkinda)”. In the law’s final draft, Articles 18 and 25 more clearly spell out the dis­
tinction between ‘persons’ (kimse) and ‘personalities’: Düstiir, II, Vol. 1, 399-400.
46 In this respect, the present mention of âdab may be taken as an indirect reference to theories of
scholarly argumentation earlier subsumed under the label ‘âdab al-bahs’. On how this and re­
lated notions permeated literary debates in late nineteenth-century Istanbul see M.K. Karabela,
‘The Development of Dialectic and Argumentation Theory in Post-Classical Islamic Intellec­
tual History’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, McGill University, 2010,245-253. For an outline
of Ottoman conceptions of âdab at the time—in relation to ‘morality’ (ahlâk) and ‘bourgeois
sociability’ - see E. Wigen, ‘The Education of Ottoman Man and the Practice of Orderliness’,
in M. Pemau, H. Jordheim et al., Civilizing Emotions: Concepts in Nineteenth-Century Asia
and Europe (Oxford 2015), 115-125.
47 Düstür, II, Vol. 1,401: âdab-i münazara dairesinde tenkid hiç bir vakit cürm teçkil edemez.
 WHAT’S IN A FAKE? 113

The present essay has been an attempt to spark o ff one such realisation. To put it in a
nutshell, one has come to the conclusion that the occurrence o f forgery provided Ottoman
officials with a blueprint for delineating the realms o f legitimate politics at a time when
sultanic authority ceased to exercise a monopoly.48 This came as a result o f multiple
tensions in their conception o f the link between politics and forgery itself. Insofar as the
Ottoman topology o f rule reigned supreme, the forger’s act could remain confined within
the ‘internal’ realms o f ‘administrative matters’, only collaterally verging on politics
whenever lèse-majesté was at stake. Yet ju st as ‘political matters’ were all but uncoupled
from social initiatives, so did the transcendent aura o f the ‘government’s claim s’ only
partially relate to the morals of public civility in society at large. The less politics relied
on the ruler’s decree, the more acumen it demanded in discriminating between sincere
subjects and deceptive postures. The way Ottoman lawmakers strove to codify it, the
intentional spreading o f deceptive currencies provided them with a generic framework
for conceiving o f threats to public peace. In sum, they placed a forger’s scheme o f things
at the core o f their notion o f politicalness.
This conclusion carries implications that exceed by far the localised case study of
the present essay. In times and spaces distant from nineteenth-century Ottoman his­
tory, conceptions o f politics in theory and practice have called forth assumptions that
may come as analogous to (if dissimilar from) those highlighted above. N ot only do
such conceptions balance the ‘police’ o f institutional order against the unsanctioned
‘politics’ o f public dissent, they also put forth a notion o f politicalness as something
that breaks the code o f an established ‘distribution of the sensible’, hence disturbing
the pre-ordained allotment o f public time and space frames.49 To some, this amounts to
defining politics as an ‘art o f not being governed’.50 Mutatis mutandis, late nineteenth-
century Ottomans made a significant contribution to this debate. Their linkage o f politi­
cal concerns to counterfeit matters makes it clear that to them doing politics necessarily
combined policing the Sultan’s subjects with a commitment to the sincerity o f publicly
voiced opinions. Hence the monitoring o f so-called ‘state conversations’ (devlet sohbet-
leri) in Istanbul coffeehouses both fulfilled the needs o f police control and made for a
legitimisation o f ‘popular lies’, thus prompting the authorities, as Cengiz K irh argues,
to ‘discover “public opinion’” .51

48 Cf. I. Moroni, ‘Continuity and Change in the 1909 Constitutional Revision: An Ottoman Impe­
rial Nation Claims its Sovereignty’, in N. Lévy-Aksu with F. Georgeon (eds), The Young Turks
and the Ottoman Empire: The Aftermath o f the 1908 Revolution (London and New York 2016),
273-279.
49 J. Rancière, The Politics o f Aesthetics: The Distribution o f the Sensible, trans. G. Rockhill
(London and New York 2004).
50 J. Scott, 77ze Art o f Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History o f Upland Southeast Asia (New
Haven and London 2009). Cf. M. Aymes, ‘Defective Agency’, in M. Aymes with B. Gourisse
and E. Massicard (eds), Order and Compromise: Government Practices in Turkey from the
Late Ottoman Empire to the Early 21st Century (Leiden and Boston 2015), 42-43.
51 C. Kirh, Sultan ve kamuoyu: Osmanli modernleçme sürecinde "Havadis Jurnalleri” (1840-
1844) (Istanbul 2009), 25. Cf. M. Çiviloglu, The Emergence o f Public Opinion: State and So­
114 MARC AYMES

While adopting the circumscription o f a certain historical setting (that o f the Otto­
man nineteenth and early twentieth centuries), this essay has been an attempt at showing
how thoughts or practices that occurred within the presumed limits o f this ‘context’ may
also end up exceeding them. The question, in other words, cannot just be that o f how
‘Ottoman political thought and practice’ relate to a given time and place frame, but also
whether they could contribute to shaping our general understanding o f politics, and vice
versa. Impractical as they may seem, Ottoman ‘political’ documents indeed splice two
layers that many a theorist has tended to keep separate. Their take on politicalness makes
reasons o f state and public opinion parts o f one and the same art o f dealing with elusive
utterances, one that demands philological training together with dialectical thinking.

ciety in the Late Ottoman Empire (Cambridge and New York 2018), 4 fn. 5, warning against
possible amalgamations of'public opinion' with 'popular opinion' here.
 PART THREE

AUTHORS AND IDEAS

 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT
AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES

L in d a T. D a rlin g *

O tto m an po l it ic a l t h o u g h t is o ften co n sid er ed to be well represented by the lit­

erature o f advice (nasihatnames) written between 1580 and 1653 by a series o f authors
from governmental, scribal, or judicial positions. This literature identified problems in
the functioning o f the Ottoman Empire and its various groups and classes and gave ad­
vice to the rulers about how to rectify them. For a long time these works were admired
in the West as candid assessments o f the Empire’s weaknesses; they were among the ear­
liest works published and translated into European languages.*1 A closer examination of
some o f their complaints regarding the tim ar system, however, indicated that their claims
about the granting o f timars to outsiders in preference to the sons o f timar-holders were
not upheld by the information in the Ottoman timar documentation.2 The proper opera­
tion o f the timar system, however, was at the heart o f Ottoman imperial integrity for most
o f the askeri elite, and the idea that outsiders holding timars were proliferating threatened
that integrity.3 The present paper deals with another o f the chronic issues in the advice lit­
erature, the ‘corruption o f the Janissaries’ by the admission o f outsiders (ecnehi) into the
corps. In this case, we know that the government gradually replaced the boys recruited
through the devoirme with men from Muslim families, so that at some time in the sev­
enteenth century the dev,•firme was more or less abandoned. But the changes in Ottoman
political thought on this problem have yet to be traced.
This study presents an overview o f the advice literature’s pronouncements on the
issue o f outsiders in the Janissary corps and a comparison o f the advice writers’ views

* University of Arizona.
1 B. Lewis, ‘Ottoman Observers of Ottoman Decline’, Islamic Studies, 1 (1962), 71-87.
2 L. T. Darling, ‘Nasîhatnâmeler, Icmal Defterleri, and the Ottoman 7ww<ar-Holding Elite in the
Late Sixteenth Century’, OA, 43 (2014): 193-226; eadem, ‘Nasîhatnâmeler,; icmal Defterleri,
and the Ottoman 7?mar-Holding Elite in the Late Sixteenth Century: Part II, Including the Sev­
enteenth Century’, OA, 45 (2015), 13-35.
3 D. A. Howard, ‘The “Ruling Institution”, Genre, and the Story of the Decline of the Ottoman
Empire’, Grand Rapids, unpublished paper, 1992.
118 LINDA T. DARLING

on this subject with those found in governmental sources. It is part o f a larger project on
the role o f the advice literature and cannot be considered the final word on the question.
Ottoman political thought on the Janissaries has two branches: the ideas o f writers o f the
advice literature, and the ideas o f the government as expressed in its edicts and actions.
The advice writers disparage outsiders in the Janissary corps and see them as the cause
o f military failure and governmental chaos; the government finds it not only useful but
quite legitimate to staff the corps with outsiders. The state did not produce treatises on its
decisions, but its understanding o f the Janissaries and the status o f outsiders in their midst
is represented in regulatory works on the Janissaries.

The Janissaries in Ottoman Regulatory Works

The near absence o f complaints about the Janissaries in the early advice works suggests
that in the late sixteenth century the changes in the Janissary corps were not widely
viewed as problematic. A chronological review o f Ottoman political literature reveals
that the political works o f that period, such as Hirzü 'l-mülûk, Mustafa A li’s Counsel for
Sultans, or Akhisarî’s Usûlü’l-hikem fi nizami’l-âlem, barely mentioned the Janissaries,
despite the changes the Janissary institution was already experiencing.4 Not until Veysî’s
Hâbnâme o f 1608 do we get a brief complaint about Janissary rebellion; Veysî saw it as
the cause o f a decline in sultanic authority, but other complaints took up more space in
his book.5 Consideration o f outsiders in the Janissary corps was more visible in works
on the regulatory side, such as the anonymous Kavanin-i yeniçeriyân o f 1606 and edicts
in several o f the miihimme registers. The Kavanin-i yeniçeriyân was completely devoted
to the Janissaries’ history, organisation, and conditions, and the miihimme registers re­
ferred frequently to the Janissaries and recorded orders about their activities, as they
were essentially part o f the Sultan’s household. These works enable us to historicise the
complaints about outsiders and to investigate the relationships o f the advice works both
among themselves and with writings in the genre o f kanun.6
The genre o f kanun had a regulatory rather than an advisory function. Pal Fodor pro­
posed that the Kavanin-i yeniçeriyân should be viewed as an advice work, and indeed,

4 Anonymous, Hirzü’l-mülûk, in Y. Yiicel (ed.), Osmanli devlet teskilâtina dair kaynaklar (An­
kara 1988), 145-207 + text; Mustafa ‘Ali, Mustafa ‘A ll’s Counsel for Sultans o f 1581: Edi­
tion, Translation, Notes, 2 vols, ed. and trans. A. Tietze (Vienna 1979-1982); Hasan Kâfî al-
Àqhisârî, Usül al-hikam f i nizâm al- ‘âlam, ed. N. R. al-Hmoud (Amman 1986); Turkish trans.,
M. Ipsirli, ‘Hasan Kâfî el-Akhisarî ve devlet düzenine ait eseri Usûlü’l-hikem f l nizâmi’l-
âlem\ TED, 10-11 (1979-80), 239-278; French trans., M. Garcin de Tassy, ‘Principes de sag­
esse, touchant Part de gouverner’, Journal Asiatique, 4 (1824), 213-226, 283-290.
5 P. Fodor, ‘State and Society, Crisis and Reform, in 15th-17th Century Ottoman Mirror for Princ­
es’, ActOrHung, 40.2-3 (1986), 228; see Veysî, Khab-Name (Kniga Snovideniia), ed. F. A. Sa-
limzianovoi (Moscow 1976).
6 Kavânîn-iyeniçeriyân, A. Akgündüz (ed.), Osmanli Kanunnâmeleri ve hukukî tahlilleri, Vol. 9
(Istanbul 1996), 127-367 (cited by page and paragraph number); I. A. Petrosian (ed.), Mebde-i
kanun-i yeniçeri ocagi tarihi (Moscow 1987). For the mühimme registers see later footnotes.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 119

the complaints made in it sound very similar to those o f Koçi Bey.78The composition and
purpose o f the kanunname, however, differ from those o f the nasihatname. Advice works
were addressed to the ruler, whereas regulatory works were addressed to those being reg­
ulated. Unlike the nasihatnames, penned mainly by scribes, the Kavanin-i yeniçeriyân
was compiled from sultanic edicts and chronicles by a long-time Janissary who had been
on many campaigns and was now in what might be called the ‘Geezers’ Ocak’ (pir-i dana
ocagi)* He states that his grandfathers had been in the service o f the Janissary Corps
since the time o f the conquest o f Constantinople; we must take this reference to grandfa­
thers as metaphorical, as establishing his expertise.9 On the other hand, he mentions ‘one
grandfather’, Saka Mahmud, as having served under Sultan Süleyman as istanbul Agasi
for 14 years; taking this reference literally would make him one o f the beneficiaries ofthe
regulation allowing Janissaries’ sons to enter the corps.10 Like Ayn-i A li’s Kavanin-i Al-i
Osman o f 1609, the anonymous kanunname o f the Janissaries was compiled for Ahmed I
( 1603-1617), who came to the throne quite young and without having spent any time as a
provincial governor to learn how to rule.11 He attained power at a time when the Empire
faced enormous military and economic challenges; old certainties were rapidly vanish­
ing, and Ottoman society and institutions were undergoing transformation. The kanun-
names functioned both to codify and selectively legitimise certain changes that were
occurring in the military corps and to assert the continuity and essential unchangingness
o f the Empire despite these modifications. In contrast to Mustafa Ali, who decried change
as corruption and pleaded for a return to the past, the kanunnames treated limited change
as adaptation, as incorporation o f the past into the present.
The Kavanin-i yeniçeriyân in particular aimed to establish the legitimacy o f Janissary
practices existing at the beginning o f the seventeenth century and to delegitimate some
o f the changes that had been recently introduced. It is organised as a series o f definitions,
grouped into categories, each with a heading posed as a group o f questions: what is this
aspect o f the institution and how does it operate? For the most part, the text codifies the
organisation and promotion patterns o f the different types o f Janissaries and their offi­
cers. Occasionally it gives the history o f some custom or regulation. It legitimises these
regulations with the words ‘kanun budur’, this is the law.12 Sometimes, as in the case

7 P. Fodor, ‘Bir nasihat-name olarak Kavânïn-i yeniçeriyân’, Behind Milletler Arasi Tiirkoloji
Kongresi, Tebligler III. Turk Tarihi, Vol. 1 (Istanbul 1986), 217-224.
8 Kavânîn-i yeniçeriyân, ed. Akgündüz, 131 #2.
9 Ibid., 130 #2.
10 Ibid., 149 #100.
11 On the Kavânîn-i Âl-i Osman see Akgündüz (ed.), Osmanh Kanunnâmeleri, 9:24-126; D. A.
Howard, ‘Genre and Myth in the Ottoman Advice for Kings Literature’, in V. H. Aksan and
D. Goffman (eds), The Early Modern Ottomans: Remapping the Empire (Cambridge 2007),
137-166; idem, ‘From Manual to Literature: Two Texts on the Ottoman Timar System’, ActOr-
Hung, 61 (2008), 87-99. See also Y. Beyazit, ‘Efforts to Reform Entry into the Ottoman ilmiyye
Career towards the End of the 16th Century: The 1598 Ottoman ilmiyye KanunnamesV, Turci­
ca, 44 (2012-2013), 201-218.
12 See, for example, Kavânîn-i yeniçeriyân, ed. Akgündüz, 143 #70; 145 #83; 146 #86.
120 LINDA T. DARLING

o f the number o f Janissaries and Janissary marriages, it explains that the regulation has
changed; in days o f old it was one way, but that regulation was abrogated in the time of
such-and-such a Sultan, and now the kanun is this.13
The main problem the author is trying to correct is outsiders entering the Janissary
corps, particularly in exchange for bribes. The two traditional routes to Janissary sta­
tus were the pençik, the one-fifth o f prisoners o f war allocated to the Sultan, and the
devçirme, the levy o f non-Muslim boys within the Empire. By the time o f the Kavanin,
however, the definition o f Janissary insiders had narrowed to a single category; the au­
thor mentions a pençik kulu, but he does not even discuss prisoners o f war; he calls the
devçirme boys pençik oglanlari and implies that the devçirme, for a long time the main
source o f Janissary recruits, was the only valid means o f entry.14 The kanunname’’s atti­
tude towards outsiders, however, is divided, regarding some as legitimate and others not.
By the time o f the kanunname, the Janissary corps had enacted several exceptions, le­
gitimising the status o f different sets o f outsiders who did not become Janissaries via the
traditional route. One exception was the recruitment o f inhabitants o f newly conquered
areas who were supposed to be exempt from the devçirme, such as Bosnian Muslims,
who were recruited during the reign o f Mehmed II despite the prohibition on enlist­
ing Muslims (kanun oldugundan maada) and who had to be carefully inspected so that
Turks did not sneak in through this route; or the inhabitants o f Trabzon, which had been
exempted from the devçirme since its conquest but were recruited in the time o f Selim I,
for which the Sultan had to issue a new kanun.15Another was the sons o f Janissaries, the
kuloglus, who were supposedly barred from entry because as Muslims they could not be
enslaved. Since, according to the kanunname, the Sultan’s serving kuls could not marry,
theoretically only former Janissaries (some retired and some transferred to different posi­
tions) would have had sons who could even consider joining the corps.16 The miihimme
registers for the mid-sixteenth century, however, mention a number o f married Janissar­
ies living with their families in villages across the Empire; indeed, scholars have found
Janissaries in active service in the provinces who were marrying and having sons from
the mid-fifteenth century onwards.17 According to the kanunname, the sons o f Janissar­

13 Ibid., 135 #19-20; 151-52 #104.

14 Kavânîn-iyeniçeriyân, ed. Akgündüz, 137 #35, 139#49, 151-52 #104. This may be an attempt
to justify the devçirme on the basis that the subject populations had been defeated in war and
their sons were therefore part of the pençik, an idea that is already present in Açikpaçazade; G.
Ydmaz, ‘The Economic and Social Roles of the Janissaries in a 17th Century Ottoman City:
The Case of Istanbul’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, McGill University, 26. For more on the
devçirme, including its legality, see eadem, ‘Becoming a Devçirme: The Training of Conscript­
ed Children in the Ottoman Empire’, in G. Campbell, S. Miers, and J. C. Miller (eds), Children
in Slavery through the Ages (Athens, OH 2009), 119-134.
15 Kavânîn-i yeniçeriyân, ed. Akgündüz, 141-43 #57-#65.
16 Ibid., 157 #121, 173 #217; i. H. Uzunçarçih, Osmanh devleti teçkilatindan Kapukulu ocaklari,
Vol. 1 (Ankara 1942), 31-33.
17 Cv. Georgieva, ‘Organisation et fonctions du corps des janissaires dans les terres bulgares du
XVIe jusqu’au milieu du XVIIIe siècles’, Études Historiques, 5 (1970), 319-336 (from kadisi-
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 121

ies were entitled to part o f their fathers’ salaries. When they grew old enough, such boys
could be registered for salaries o f their own and serve on the horse boats that brought
soldiers across the Bosporus or supplies and wood to the palace. They were then treated
the same as devçirme boys, despite their Muslim origins; they were no longer considered
outsiders and could become regular Janissaries after nine to ten years o f service. They
entered a special unit that was established just for them, the Kul Ogullari, and they served
under the sekbanba§i.li
By the time o f the kanunname, in the early seventeenth century, these sons o f Janis­
saries were seen as having been in the corps from time immemorial, kadimii ’l-eyyamdan
beri, and kanun budur, this is the kanun} 9 But how and when did it become the kanun!
According to the indices in the published registers, the first order in Mühimmes 5, 6, or 7
(covering the period 1564-1569) to mention kuloglus is in Mühimme register number 7,
an order (#789) issued by Selim II (1566-1574) on 3 Saban 975/2 February 1568:

“An order to Vezir Mustafa Pasha: since it is made known that the Janissaries of Damascus
number fewer than one thousand, whether those going with you [to Egypt and then Yemen] or
whether those serving in Damascus or in Aleppo in service to the Treasury, in order to increase
their number to 1,000 men, I order that when this arrives, you enrol Janissaries from among
suitable brothers of kuls and sons of kuls and bring their number up to 1,000 men. But among
those enrolled let there not be Persians [Tat, probably Kurds] or Arabs; let them be brothers of
kuls and sons of kuls.”181920

For some time the kuloglus had been trickling into the regular regiments as individuals
without authorisation; this was their first enlistment as a group, and with a sultanic edict.
It was not a general edict legitimising kuloglus in the Janissary corps; it only commanded
the enlistment into the regular Janissaries o f a particular group o f non -dev§irme recruits
in the province o f Syria. Apparently, however, it was taken as a precedent elsewhere for
the acceptance o f numbers o f kuloglus and kul kardeçleri, including possibly the author’s
family. Forty years later, these outsiders were discussed in the kanunname as if they had
always been legitimate.21

cilleri); L. T. Darling, ‘Crime Among the Janissaries in the Ottoman Golden Age’, in A Histo­
rian o f Ottoman War, Peace, and Empire: A Festschrift in Honor o f Virginia Aksan, ed. F. Cas-
tiglione and V. Çimçek (Leiden forthcoming), from mühimme defterleri.
18 Kavânîn-iyeniçeriyân, ed. Akgündüz, 146#87, 151 #104, 153 #106.
19 Ibid., 146 #86-87, 199 #369.
20 7Numarali Mühimme Defteri (H.975-976/1567-1569), Ozet- Transkripsiyon - indeks (Ankara
1998), 381 #789. Cf. Uzunçarçili, Kapukulu Ocaklan, 1:20-21, an order of Siileyman not to en­
rol “Russians, Persians, Gypsies, and Turks”. In 1572, another order came to eliminate Arabs
and Persians from the local recruits: 12 Numarali Mühimme Defteri (H.978-97971570-1572),
Ozet - Transkripsiyon ve Indeks (Ankara 1998), 161 #1008. This insistence on purity would
change with the change in the Janissaries’ roles. Not mentioned here are the Circassians and
Georgians, whose availability as slaves must have reduced the need for Balkan devçirmes.
21 Their legitimacy is called into question, however, by the idea that in 1620 it supposedly still
took a bribe for a Janissary to enrol his son in the corps; G. Yilmaz, ‘Economic and Social
Roles of the Janissaries’, 80.
122 LINDA T. DARLING

Later in the kanunname, the author states that Janissaries could not be other than
devçirme or kuloglu (although o f course there had once been prisoners o f war), but it
then goes on to say that when a prince becomes Sultan, he can add his provincial military
troops to the Janissary corps. Ordinarily this would involve a few hundred men, prob­
ably from his father the Sultan’s palace troops. When Selim II became Sultan in 1566,
however, he made the people o f the sancak he had ruled as a prince into Janissaries,
and although it was irregular and exceptional, because the Sultan had ordered it, it was
kanun and therefore legitimate.22 This must be a reference to the assimilation into sul-
tanic service o f the large army Selim recruited while still a prince to defeat his brother
Bayezid. This army amounted to some 8,000 provincial men, most o f whom were o f
Anatolian peasant background, and they were housed in the Janissary barracks vacated
by the regular army’s departure for the siege o f Szigetvar. Their entry caused a massive
personnel shift; the trainees in the palace school and gardener ( bostanci) corps graduated
to make room for them in Istanbul’s training regiments, and many older Janissaries were
retired in order to create vacancies for those being promoted. Their invasion o f the palace
precincts was vehemently resented by the well-educated, largely Balkan, Janissaries and
palace troops, and the bad feeling they aroused and the epithets (such as uncouth, dogs,
common criminals, and murderers) used against them by the insulted devçirme men were
later transferred to other outsiders entering the corps.23
Ironically, the backgrounds o f these Anatolian peasant soldiers were probably not
very different from those o f the Janissaries recruited through the devoirme except for
their religion and language. Since the devçirme boys from non-Muslim backgrounds
were now Muslims, they could not denigrate the Anatolians on the ground o f religion,
so to distance themselves from the Anatolian troops they exaggerated and maligned their
unpolished and improper behaviour. The author o f the kanunname is in a difficult posi­
tion: on the one hand, he wants to condemn the entry o f people from non -devçirme ori­
gins who had come in through the new channels that were opening up, but, on the other,
he needs for the sake o f his own legitimacy to approve the admissions policies o f Selim

22 Kavânîn-i yeniçeriyân, ed. Akgündüz, 199 #369.

23 i. M. Kunt, ‘Turks in the Ottoman Imperial Palace’, in T. Artan, J. Duindam, and M. Kunt
(eds), Royal Courts in Dynastic States and Empires: A Global Perspective (Leiden 2011), 302-
306. Kunt raises the question whether Selanikî’s designation of these men as sekbans in the
sense of mercenaries was anachronistic. Examination of the milhimme registers reveals that
while Selim II was still a prince, an order regarding the murder of one of his miiteferrikm stat­
ed that the first to be questioned were his sekbans Kara Mustafa and Dervi?: 6 Numarah Miih-
imme Defteri (H.972/1564-1565), Ozet - Transkripsiyon ve indeks (Ankara 1995), 6 #7. An­
other order begins with the testimony of Dergah-i Muallâm yeniçerilerinden Gani, who states,
“Kütahiyye ’de sekbanlarumdan iken 7 Numarali Mühimme Defteri, 39 #76. Other or­
ders in the same register mention sekbans who received timars (41 #79, 46 #91, 265 #541 ), and
there is one about reaya with firearms pretending to be sekbans (225 #453), which suggests
that Selim’s sekbans carried firearms (cf. Kunt, ‘Turks’, 306). The introduction of Selim IPs
provincial troops, then, may actually have caused the shift of meaning whereby the name for
a specific type of soldier came to designate mercenaries in general. It also suddenly increased
the number of retired Janissaries.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 123

II, which included not only the marriage o f Janissaries and the entry o f their sons into the
corps but the admission o f other outsiders as well.24 He implies but does not say that what
makes those others, who are not devfrme or kuloglu, true outsiders is that no kanun was
issued legitimising their entry.25
The entry into the Janissary corps o f men other than kuloglus who had non -devçirme
backgrounds may not have been authorised by kanun, but it had been occurring for some
time, and by the time o f the kanunname it was institutionally organised. The companies
o f aga çiragi, the agha’s apprentices, and ferzend-i sipahi, the sons o f sipahis, had been
formed to house such recruits.26 The kanunname also speaks about a unit o f ferzend-i
çavuç, sons o f çavuçes, which apparently began under Selim II as well,27 in addition to
units o f ferzend-i çaçnigir, sons o f tasters, and ferzend-i bevvab, sons o f kapicis (were
they not all eunuchs?), that were abolished before it was produced.28 In the mid-sixteenth
century, in other words, the Janissary corps, with the partial authorisation o f the Sultan,
made institutional provision for the recruitment o f new members from a number o f dif­
ferent sources, not all from the devfrme. H alf a century later, the author o f the kanun­
name seeks to delegitimise their entry, saying that through these companies ‘ Tiirk miirk’
had become acemi oglans and Janissaries.29 Other Türk miirk, he claims, adopted non-
Muslim names and were made Janissaries in return for bribes, 25 gold pieces being the
specified amount, and urban Muslim artisans were smuggled in with the claim that they
were relatives o f members o f the corps.30 Sons o f sipahis, the author says, should become
sipahis, sons o f çavuçes çavuçes, sons o f kapicis kapicis', in other words, this practice
does not ruin the corps so much as it offends his social sensibilities! He calls that, with
some exaggeration, “disrupting the order o f the world”.31
The author o f the kanunname represents the problem as the desire o f all sorts o f peo­
ple to become Janissaries, obtain salaries, and wear turbans.32 But this problem o f growth
was not limited to the Janissaries; in the same period, other categories o f government
service also expanded, such as the scribal service, the çavu§ or messenger service, and
the ulema. It was a period o f population growth both in the countryside, where farmed
land did not expand as fast as the farming population, and in the cities, where migration

24 This partial delegitimation of outsiders was paralleled by the exclusion from the timar kanun-
namesi of anyone but the sons of timar-holders, even though many other groups regular­
ly gained timars, such as men at arms, retainers of officials, provincial military forces, and
men from auxiliary military groups; their omission reinforced the sense that timars should be
awarded only to sons of previous timar-holders, although that was never practised; Kavânîn-i
Al-i Osman, 64-66; Darling, ‘Nasîhatnâmeler, 193-226; eadem, ‘Nasîhatnâmeler II, 3-35.
25 Kavânîn-i yeniçeriyân, ed. Akgündüz, 145 #84.
26 Ibid., 211 #437.
27 Ibid., 145 #84-85, 151-52 #104, 157 #121,173 #217.
28 Ibid., 152 #105.
29 Ibid., 240 #590, 253 #649.
30 Ibid., 145 #84, 252 #643, 156 #114.
31 Ibid., 152 #104; 155 #111.
32 Ibid., 157 #123.
124 LINDA T. DARLING

from the countryside added to the increase o f artisans and the unemployed.33 Life as a
Janissary, despite its drawbacks, was probably more secure and certainly more profitable
than eking out a living as an independent craftsman. But in addition, the state needed
more Janissaries at this juncture: garrison forces were expanding, and on the battlefield
Janissaries were becoming not ju st the Sultan’s bodyguard but the core Ottoman troops,
especially as siege warfare became more important. Janissaries were also being given
greater responsibilities in tax collection and administration. So there was a pull as well
as a push driving more men into the Janissary corps. If so many men were anxious to
get in, there was less need to alienate the non-Muslim population by taking away their
sons.34 Since many o f the new entrants were Turks or had grown up in Istanbul, the long
period when the recruits learned Turkish and became Muslims would be unnecessary;
the years o f training could be shortened and the recruits could become more immediately
useful. The reasons why non-M uslims’ children had originally been preferred over Turks
(to subordinate and incorporate the conquered people, to prevent the substitution o f a
new ruling family) were no longer urgent, and the system changed. The disapproval of
the devftrm e class was unhelpful, even obstructive, and their advice was carefully scru­
tinised and usually discarded.
In official registers such as salary registers, the origins o f Janissaries are indicated
by descriptive terms or by place-names and patronymics. The miihimme registers for the
period between 1558 and 1570 contain numerous orders regarding Janissary assignments,
salaries, promotions, crimes, and punishments, but they show little interest in the Janis­
saries’ origins, usually not even indicating whether a Janissary is from the devsirme or
the son o f a Muslim. The word ecnebi is used only in connection with timar-holders,
castle garrisons, or villages.35 Miihimme register 82 (1616-1617), covering the last year of
Ahmed I’s reign, may be seen as a measuring stick for the condition o f the Janissary corps
in the decade after the composition o f the kam nname. The orders concerning Janissaries
in this volume, which similarly ignore their origins, cover only two topics. One is people
pretending to be Janissaries or acemi oglans (Janissary apprentices), which would allow
them to carry guns, pay no taxes, and be immune to local punishment for crimes. The other
is the estates o f deceased Janissaries, indicating both the existence o f Janissaries’ families
and their prosperous economic condition. In this volume the word ecnebi does not appear
at all, and outsiders do not appear as a problem. Since the subsequent advice works still
complain about them, they have clearly not disappeared; therefore, the absence o f orders
against them can be interpreted as indicating that their presence was not an ‘important af­

33 L. T. Darling, Revenue-Raising and Legitimacy: Tax Collection and Finance Administration in

the Ottoman Empire, 1560-1660 (Leiden 1996).
34 It may also be that the devsirme simply could not supply enough men: H. Inalcik, ‘Military and
Fiscal Transformation in the Ottoman Empire, 1600-1700’, ArchOtt, 6 (1980), 288.
35 3 Numarah Miihimme Defteri (H.966-968/1558-1560), Ozetve Transkripsiyon (Ankara 1993),
no entries; 5 Numarali Miihimme Defteri (H.973/1565-1566), Ozet ve indeks (Ankaral994),
#202, #223, #256, #1229; 6 Numarali Miihimme Defteri, #18, #1185, #1458; 7Numarali Miih­
imme Defteri, #40, #91, #323, #341, #541, #974, #1066, #1937;12 Numarali Miihimme Deft­
eri, #439, #601.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 125

fair’, which amounted to an unofficial acceptance o f their enlistment in the corps.36 The
absence o f discussion about the Janissaries’ roles cannot mean they had no roles to play;
rather, it probably indicates that their tasks were not considered remarkable enough to be
worthy o f notice in the “registers o f important affairs”; they had become routinised.

Two Disagreeable Books o f Advice: Kitâb-i müstetâb a n d K oçi B ey s Risale

The failure o f the Polish campaign o f 1621, attributed to the lacklustre performance o f the
Janissaries, called the kanunname’s validity into question only 15 years after its compila­
tion. The Kitâb-i müstetâb, written for Osman II (1618-1622), expressed harsh opposi­
tion to measures that the kammname took in its stride or condemned more mildly.37 The
anonymous author was probably a devçirme recruit, educated in the palace school.38 His
nasihatname exhibits a much stronger attachment to the old, proper ways o f doing things
than does the kanunname, which is only to be expected from an author defending himself
and his group and looking for scapegoats towards whom criticism might be deflected.
The book harks back to the mythical days o f Osman Gazi (1299-1326?), when Sultans
governed with justice and in accordance with sharia and kanun, the Sultan’s orders were
in force throughout the Seven Climes, and what they conquered they held. This idealis­
tic portrait o f the past took no account o f defeats, setbacks, or the fragmentation o f the
Empire by Timur, nor did it envisage the kanun as something the Sultans enacted over
time and that had for centuries existed in somewhat uneasy relation to the sharia. Like so
many other Ottoman literary works, the book creates an ideal image of the Empire’s past
against which to set the inadequate present.39 The description o f the current time must
be regarded as equally unrealistic: everything is wrong, nothing is right; all officials are
unjust and corrupt, all peasants oppressed, all the military rebellious, and as a result, the
order o f the world is overturned and the foundations o f the dynasty are crumbling. The
actual facts, that the world continued on and the dynasty remained in power, are irrelevant
to this lament, which stresses the seriousness o f the situation and the blamelessness o f the
devsirme element. “The first distortion to appear was outsiders mixing in the kul taifesi.”40
The common understanding is that this work was written in the aftermath o f the Pol­
ish campaign o f 1621 to critique the Janissaries’ failures. The book does not mention the
Polish campaign, but if it was written for that purpose, it was not a critique o f the Janis­
saries but a defence o f the ‘real’ Janissaries against the failures o f the interlopers and a
critique o f the high officials who accepted bribes and allowed imposters and ignoramuses

36 82 Numarali Miihimme Defteri (1026-1027/1617-1618) <Ozet - Transkripsiyon - Indeks ve

Tipkibasim> (Ankara 2000).
37 Abou-El-Haj, Formation o f the Modern State, 24.
38 Yücel (ed.), Osmanli devlet teçkilâtma dair kaynaklar, xx.
39 See the literature on the Ottoman trope of decline: D. A. Howard, ‘Ottoman Historiography and
the Literature of “Decline” of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries’, Journal o f Asian His­
tory, 22 (1988), 52-77; H. Ferguson, ‘Genres of Power: Constructing a Discourse of Decline in
Ottoman Nasihatname\ OA, 35 (2010), 81-116.
40 Kitâb-i müstetâb, in Y. Yücel (ed.), Osmanli devlet teskilâtina dair kaynaklar, 2.
126 LINDA T. DARLING

to infest the military corps. It did not provide useful suggestions for reform but played
on the reader’s emotions, twisting the heartstrings on behalf of the devçirme recruits and
against the newcomers. As we know, Osman II was not taken in by this ploy, and decided
to eliminate the Empire’s dependence on the Janissaries, devçirme or not, a plan which
did not succeed. Nevertheless, recruitment through the devoirme was all but abandoned,
becoming less frequent throughout the seventeenth century in favour o f the recruitment
o f Muslims with, apparently, little or no attention to ethnicity. Miihimme register 83, cov­
ering the years 1626-1628, contains few sultanic orders, reflecting the relative incapacity
o f the neurotic Mustafa I (1622-1623) and the child Murad IV (1623-1640), and those
few are concerned only with assigning and paying the Janissaries garrisoning the forts on
the Danube.41 The quarrel over their origins was not treated as an important affair o f the
Empire, and the concerns o f the writers o f advice literature were marginalised.
The Kitâb-i müstetâb begins with two chapters dealing with the award o f timars and
dirliks to outsiders and the granting o f offices and salary increases in return for bribes,
in which the Janissaries are included only by implication. In the third chapter, it directly
addresses the problems o f the Janissary corps. The author gives a recipe for producing
what the author calls a healthy kul taifesi by describing in detail the career o f a devçirme
boy, including the process o f collecting boys through the dev§irme, their assignment to
different career paths according to appearance and ability, and their promotion through
a series o f offices up to the level o f vizier, which was supposed to allow deserving can­
didates to become viziers knowledgeable about the whole Empire and all the ranks of
service.42 Rather than the definitions o f the kammame, the nasihatname focuses on the
life cycle o f the candidates. The detailed descriptions o f the sufferings o f those learning
to be Janissaries sound like personal experience, and so it should not be surprising that
the author resents the award o f salaries and promotions to those who had not spent “many
years cold and enduring a master, their hearts bleeding” and encountering “beatings in
the palaces, distress, fatigue, and imprisonment” .43 According to him, the less successful
had career paths o f their own which purportedly could also lead to the top offices.44 In
reality, men from the bottom ranks did not gain the highest offices, but it was comforting
to think that they could.
But now, complains the author, outsiders have entered the ocaks, doubling and tri­
pling the number o f soldiers; salaries have increased, and the former pay scales are not
being adhered to.45 The reason for the salary increase was, o f course, monetary inflation,
but it is represented as a great transgression. If this is what the author meant by his phrase
“destruction o f the old customs”, then perhaps their destruction was worthwhile. Schol­

41 83 Numarali Miihimme Defteri (H.1036-1037/1626-1628) <Ozet—Transkripsiyon-tndeksve

Tipkibasim> (Ankara 2001).
42 Kitâb-i müstetâb, ed. Yücel, 6.
43 Ibid., 7, 8.
44 Ibid., 7.
45 For discussions of the effect of growing commercialisation and monetisation on Ottoman orga­
nization and political thought see Ferguson, ‘Genres of Power’, and Tezcan, The Second Otto­
man Empire.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 127

ars rejecting the declensionist narrative acknowledge that the expansion o f the Janissary
corps was affected by a number o f factors, including the military revolution, the stabilisa­
tion and garrisoning o f the Empire’s borders, unrest in the provinces and the garrisoning
o f cities, and the monétarisation o f the economy; additional contributing factors must
have been the greater unification o f this vast empire, better integration o f the provinces,
the expansion o f the government’s reach, and the increased bureaucratisation o f its op­
erations, all o f which generated more paperwork, a need for more managers and messen­
gers, and for enhanced security provisions. The miihimme registers o f the time pay more
attention to inspecting, paying, and addressing the needs o f Janissaries than to regulating
entry into the corps (although a significant number o f orders still deal with the problem
o f people pretending to be Janissaries).
The author also complains that since places in the corps could be purchased with
money, people with no prior service could become fully-fledged Janissaries and from
there be promoted to other offices.46 This author does not seem to be bothered by the
corps o f aga çiragi,ferzend-i sipahi, or ferzend-i çavu§, but by the entry and promotion
o f men with no background at all in the Janissary corps. This phenomenon was not even
in evidence when the kanunname was written, but by 1621 it had become the foremost
problem in the advice w riter’s eyes. The difficulties he adduces are the ignorance o f the
purchasers o f office, who do not understand the Empire’s problems or know what orders
to give, and the drain on the treasury (which he persists in calling “the beytii 'l-mal o f the
Muslims”, for an obvious propaganda effect) from the growth in salaries. The granting
o f positions without supervision from the centre, which used to occur only on the actual
battlefield in the presence o f the men’s commanding officers, now takes place over the'
whole time from the departure from Istanbul to the arm y’s return to the city, allowing the
award o f offices without any demonstration o f military prowess, and by this means (he
says) all sorts o f unqualified people enter the corps.47 The miihimme registers o f this pe­
riod, in contrast, make no distinction between different types o f Janissary recruits, which
could easily have been done had the state had a reason to do so. This suggests that the
anxiety about outsiders was not pervasive but was confined to men of dev§irme origin,
several o f whom wrote advice works in a futile effort to hold back the tide o f change.
The nasihatname defines kanun in a different way from the kanunname, pairing
kanun and sharia in a way that makes adherence to the kanun the political equivalent of
submission to God.48 This idea appears earlier, in M ustafa Ali: “to obey [the Sultan’s] or­

46 Kitâb-i müstetâb, ed. Yücel, 8-10, 13-14.

47 Ibid., 3-4.
48 For the corollary, the aversion to innovation, see Ferguson, ‘Genres of Power’, 99. On the rela­
tionship between kanun and sharia in the Ottoman Empire, see G. Burak, ‘The Second Forma­
tion of Islamic Law: The Post-Mongol Context of the Ottoman Adoption of a School of Law’,
Comparative Studies in Society and History, 55.3 (2013), 579-602; idem, ‘Between the Kânün
of Qâytbây and Ottoman Yasaq: A Note on the Ottomans’ Dynastic Law’, Journal o f Islamic
Studies, 26.1 (2015), 1-23; idem, The Second Formation o f Islamic Law: The Hanafi School in
the Early Modern Ottoman Empire (Cambridge 2012)
128 LINDA T. DARLING

ders should be equal to worship and to performing a religious duty.”49 Rather than some­
thing made by living Sultans, in these texts kanun, like sharia, is eternal in the heavens.
According to the ancient law, income covers expenses; this is not a law that a Sultan can
decree.50 Kanun in this view is no longer a regulation to be obeyed or disobeyed, retained
or altered; instead, it embodies the ideal order o f the world, to be loyally conformed to
or rebelled against, with consequences for the cosmic order.51 Several times the author
states: “Thus, in this way the ancient law was enforced and by this means the world was
ordered and regularised.”52 But now, “The kul taifesi has left its old ways . . . The ocak
o f Haci Bektaç has left the ancient law.”53 According to this author, “It is because the
kanun o f the House o f Osman has been broken and the innovation of sipahi and silahdar
and then Janissary agha going on campaign with the viziers has existed. It is because o f
this that we have had two wars with Iran and Europe, and that in Anatolia the Celalis
have arisen and villages are ruined and income does not meet expenses and money had
to be drawn from the Inner Treasury, and still salaries remained unpaid, and there are not
enough soldiers fit for campaign.”54 Kanun in the Kitâb-i müstetâb is the magic mirror;
when it is broken all the ills o f the world pour forth. The kanunname, in contrast, even
though it idealises a particular moment in the history o f Janissary development, and,
like the Kitâb-i müstetâb, embodies a competition between the men o f the devçirme and
Janissaries o f other origins, presents a view o f kanun that belongs to the real world.
In the advice writings o f Koçi Bey, the view o f the kanun and the kul taifesi as guaran­
teeing the order o f the world already sounds like a hackneyed trope, even though he wrote
his first Risale for Murad IV only nine years after the Kitâb-i müstetâb. Koçi Bey was a
devfir me recruit employed in the palace all his life, and he may have been surrounded
by people in government repeating that idea over and over as they promoted their own
interests. He had much the same complaints as the author o f the Kitâb-i müstetâb, includ­
ing the expansion o f the corps, the growth in salary payments, and the entry o f outsiders,
“upstarts, those who said ‘there is profit here’”, city boys, and peasants.55 In order to be
convincing, he provides from the müçaherehorân registers the numbers o f personnel in
all the salaried corps o f the palace: military, scribal, and craft, omitting only the harem.
According to these figures, between 1574 and 1630, the salaried staff tripled in size from
36,153 to 92,206, with the biggest growth in the müteferrika, çavu§, kapici, Six Bôlüks
(palace cavalry), and Janissary corps.56 In an era o f rapid inflation and monetary instabili­
ty this was certainly cause for concern for financial reasons, but it was not the overturning

49 Mustafa Ali, Counsel for Sultans, 20.

50 Kitâb-i müstetâb, ed. Yücel, 14.
51 On the political/cosmic order see H. T. Karateke and M. Reinkowski (eds), Legitimizing the
Order: The Ottoman Rhetoric o f State Power (Leiden 2005); Fleischer, Bureaucrat and Intel­
lectual.
52 E.g., Kitâb-i müstetâb, ed. Yücel, 3, 7.
53 Ibid., 4, 10.
54 Ibid., 17.
55 Koçi Bey, Koçi Bey risalesi, ed. Y. Kurt (Ankara 1994), 12.
56 Ibid., 41-42.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 129

o f the world order that he proclaimed it to be. Like the author o f the Kitâb-i müstetâb, he
also complains about those who entered the corps without training. Some office-holders,
he says, sell their offices to outsiders, saying they are their relatives; veledeç (‘his son’)
thus became the term for an outsider holding a sinecure. Moreover, he states, 5,000-6,000
o f these men have titles and receive pay but do not work and do not go on campaign.57
He attributes this development to Ôzdemiroglu Osman Pasha allowing outsiders into the
bôlüks and Koca Sinan Pasha allowing them into the garrisons in the last decades o f the
sixteenth century. Others cite different dates and events, and it becomes clear that the
process o f attribution is not a historical one that seeks a real culprit, but a myth-making
one defining the good guys and the bad guys in Ottoman factional contestation.58 The
devçirme, like the tim ar system, has become an element in the ideal kanun-regulated
state, compared with which the real state can only appear as a sordid disaster calling for
immediate and drastic remedial action.
On the following page, Koçi Bey tells a story o f origins that differs from this and also
from the tale in the Kitâb-i müstetâb. Here he claims that the first outsiders to enter the
Janissary corps were the firefighters, who in 1582 under Ferhad Aga were all granted the
status o f Janissaries.59 After that, courtiers and boon companions (nedims and mukar-
rebs) entered under his auspices as well and were placed in a separate troop, later named
the agha’s apprentices, aga çiragi.60 Subsequently, the ferzend-i sipahi were created,
and then the innovation o f becayi§, place-switching, arose, until finally city boys, Turks,
gypsies, Persians, Kurds, foreigners, Laz, Yürüks, muleteers, cameleers, porters, syrup-
sellers, brigands, pickpockets, and other sorts o f people could hold office or become
Janissaries. As a result, he thinks, they dominate the state, and rebel, and they no longer
fear the Sultan.61 To reform the Janissary corps, he offers recommendations as unrealistic
as his plan to restore the timar army. He wants to cancel the innovations to the Six Bôlüks
and promote Janissaries to the vacancies once every seven years. The new troops should
be eliminated, officers should be kept in the same positions for seven-eight years, and
only men from the devoirme (and the kuloglmV) should be recruited.62 Along with the

57 Ibid., 42-43.
58 Ôzdemiroglu Osman Pasha and Koca Sinan Pasha were enemies and rivals. Ôzdemiroglu in
1584 became the first Circassian Grand Vizier, thus breaking a hundred-year string of Bal­
kan Grand Viziers, plus a few Turks. Circassians became more frequent under Mehmed IV
(1648-1687); E. Fetvaci, Picturing History at the Ottoman Court (Bloomington 2013), 242;
E. Radusev, ‘The Ottoman Ruling Nomenclature in the 16th-17th Centuries (Monopoly of the
“Devçirmes” - First and Second Stages)’, Bulgarian Historical Review 3-4 (1988), 68-71.
59 Koçi Bey risalesi, 44. The usual story tells it the other way around, that the Janissaries were
employed to fight fires; see, e.g., 12 Numarali Miihimme Defteri, 105 #125.
60 Ibid., 45. The aga çiragi, according to Uzunçarçih, was established by Bayezid II in the late
fifteenth century: Î. H. Uzunçarçih, Osmanli Devleti Teçkilâtindan Kapikulu Ocaklari, 2 vols
(Ankara 1943; repr. 1984), 162-171.
61 Ibid., 31-32, 40. Becayiç already appears as a term for transfers in a register of 1580, BOA
MAD 7168.
62 Ibid., 71.
130 LINDA T. DARLING

creation o f permanent governorships and a hereditary timar-holding class, this is a recipe

for stagnation, not for reform. The advice was not followed; in fact, the practices decried
by the advice-writers were, or resulted from, the decisions o f the state.6364Government
policy moved in the direction o f discontinuing the devçirme, which was performed only
infrequently after the early seventeenth century. Although Osman II was not successful in
eliminating the Janissaries, subsequent Sultans completely altered their character, creat­
ing a corps somewhat like the one Osman had planned, drawn from the Anatolian Turkish
population and other groups rather than the devoirme.

Som e A uthors with One F oot on the Ground

The disapproval o f the authors above had virtually no effect on the shape o f Janissary
recruitment. The units which were the subject o f contention remained in place, and by the
reign o f Murad IV, Aziz Efendi in his Kanunname-i sultanî describes the aga çiragi and
ferzend-i sipahi as having become acceptable, although he does not mention a kammM
He blames their creation for the increase in Janissary numbers and what he calls the
destruction o f their ancient customs and the invasion o f the Sultan’s palace by “low,
undesirable types and city boys”.65 Nevertheless, he says, the entry o f these people into
the system in the era o f Murad III was “capable o f being borne” (that is, it did not in
actual fact destroy the corps, although it changed some o f its practices) because these
new recruits were required to work as acemi oglans for a number o f years and were only
accepted into the regular regiments after receiving sufficient training and, presumably,
becoming socialised in the Janissary outlook. According to Aziz Efendi, the entry o f real
outsiders into the corps without prior service or training began only in 1623, after the
execution o f Osman II.66 Aziz is wrong about that, however, since the Kitâb-i müstetâb
had already complained about them in 1621.67 Why would he contradict the earlier work
in this way, unless he was trying to exonerate the older outsiders for the defeat in Poland,
for which the author o f the Kitâb-i müstetâb had blamed them so harshly?68 We perhaps
see here an echo o f the conflicting factions in the Ottoman administration, contending
over where to draw the line o f acceptability for the non -devprme recruits.69

63 R. A. Abou-El-Haj, ‘The Nature of the Ottoman State in the Latter Part of the XVIith Century’,
in A, Tietze (ed.), Habsburgisch-osmanische Beziehungen, (Vienna 1985), 181.
64 Aziz Efendi, Kanûn-nâme-i sultânî li 'Aziz Efendi, Aziz Efendi’s Book o f Sultanic Laws and
Regulations: An Agendafor Reform by a Seventeenth-Century Ottoman Statesman, ed. R. Mur-
phey, Sources of Oriental Languages and Literatures 9 (Cambridge, MA 1985), 6. Neverthe­
less, he wanted them abolished, from which it can be deduced that they had never been legiti­
mated by kanun; ibid., 10.
65 Ibid, 6.
66 Ibid, 7.
67 Kitâb-i müstetâb, ed. Yiicel, 8-10, 13-14.
68 Did these authors not read each other’s work? Perhaps they did not, and the phrases that sound
as if they were copied from one another represent instead a common oral culture of abuse of
outsiders that was current among the devfrme recruits and palace society.
69 The intimate court factions of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries have begun
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 131

Aziz Efendi, writing in 1632- 1633, was not o f devçirme origin but a scribe, probably
in the divan, with access to imperial orders and registers.70 Like the Kitâb-i müstetâb and
the Kavanin-iyeniçeriyân, his work was written in the aftermath o f a military failure for
a young Sultan in need o f advice. And like his predecessors, Murad IV appears to have
disregarded this particular bit o f unsolicited advice.71 We hear much about his reform of
the timar system but little or nothing o f a reform o f the Janissaries. Godfrey Goodwin
describes two dev§irmes carried out in 1637 and 1638, which in his eyes amounted to a
reform.72 The second o f these is attested by Naima, but he does not imply that it was part
o f a reform; rather, its purpose was to replace 5,000 acemi oglam who had graduated
from the palace school and gardens to go on the Baghdad campaign o f 163 7.73 Other
historians do not mention a Janissary reform in this period, and for that there may have
been a political reason. The Janissaries were the main prop for the power o f Kosern, the
Valide Sultan who exercised power intermittently from her husband’s death in 16 17 until
her own death in 1651. She would not have favoured any reduction o f Janissary numbers,
salaries, or privileges that risked the loss o f their support. Murad IV, as her son, may well
have been guided in his Janissary policy by his m other’s interests, and indeed, they may
have been his own as well.
Koçi Bey (?) composed a second treatise in very simple language for the newly en­
throned Sultan ibrahim (1640-1648), but at the same time an anonymous author, perhaps
aspiring to rival him, wrote another treatise on how the good order o f the Ottoman army
and society had been broken.74 This work, Kitâbu mesâlihi’l-müslimîn ve Menâfi’i ‘1-
mü ’minîn, was written for the reforming Grand Vizier Kemankcç Kara M ustafa Pasha
(1639-1644), apparently by someone close to him, hypothetically a bureaucrat with a
non-Turkish background (judging by the mistakes in his Turkish).75 His book is supposed

to be studied: Fetvaci, Picturing History at the Ottoman Court, G. Bôrekçi, ‘Factions and Fa­
vorites at the Courts of Sultan Ahmed I (r. 1603-17) and His Immediate Predecessors’, unpub­
lished Ph.D. dissertation, Ohio State University, 2010. Patronage and factionalism, however,
spread widely throughout the ruling class, in the provinces as well as at the capital: D. Ze’evi,
An Ottoman Century: The District o f Jerusalem in the 1600s (Albany 1996); J. Hathaway,
The Politics o f Households in Ottoman Egypt: The Rise o f the Qazdaglis (Cambridge 1997);
M. Nizri, Ottoman High Politics and the Ulema Household (Basingstoke 2014). Grasping its
effects, and understanding what happened with the appointment of Kôprülü Mehmed Pasha,
demands detailed investigation of the social networks among both the greater and the lesser
elites, including social network analysis of the chronicles, the tax records, and literary and
ulema circles, as well as attention to the circulation and activities of provincial elites and the
appointment and salary registers.
70 Aziz Efendi, Kanûn-nâme-i sultânî, vii.
71 “The author has again made bold to importune your majesty with his effrontery”, ibid., 4.
72 G. Goodwin, The Janissaries (London 1994), 35. There are no references for these descrip­
tions.
73 Naîmâ Mustafa Efendi, Târih-i Na'îmâ, ed. M. ipçirli (Ankara 2007), 2:859, 881.
74 Anonymous, Kitâbu mesâlihi’l-müslimîn ve menâfi’i'l-mü’minîn, in Yücel (ed.), Osmanli dev-
let teçkilâtina dair kaynaklar, 91-141 + text.
75 Yücel (ed.), Osmanli devlet teçkilâtma dair kaynaklar, 62.
 132 LINDA T. DARLING

to have provided advice for the Vizier’s reforms, but the part on the Janissaries seems
somewhat frivolous. For example, after a forthright disquisition about what Janissaries
ought to wear, its main complaint is that young and bribable yayabaçis, at the behest
o f some great men (whose factions they probably belonged to, although the book does
not say so) were being sent in place o f old and upright yayabafis to head the devfirme.
Seeing this, peasants would sell their fields in order to raise the money to bribe these of­
ficials not to take their sons. The peasants then had no homes and emigrated from their
registered locations, to the detriment o f the tax revenue.76 In actuality, such an event must
have been exceedingly rare, especially in an era when the frequency o f the dev firm e
was rapidly decreasing. If this is the worst the author can find to say about the Janissar­
ies, things had apparently improved considerably since Koçi Bey’s treatise was written.
While the book’s world view and concept o f social structure are largely the same as those
o f the other nasihatnames, it apparently did not share their pessimism, since it has been
analysed as demanding change in the laws and it specifically separated kanun from reli­
gious obligation.77 The bureaucrat author seems here to be distancing him self from the
dev fir me point o f view represented by Koçi Bey.
By this time the Janissaries had many functions in addition to fighting, and their
number had increased accordingly, along with that o f other salaried staff, such as scribes
and ulema. In order to balance the budget, Kemankeç Kara Mustafa did cut the number
o f Janissaries back to its 1574 level, but this policy was reversed after his death, suggest­
ing that these men may not have been as useless as the advice works make them sound.
In mühimme register 90 (1646/47), which contains orders sent primarily to the provinces
soon after Kara M ustafa’s death, Janissaries are most often found in an administrative
capacity, petitioning the Porte on behalf o f officials or residents in various parts o f the
Empire and reporting crimes. A number o f entries show Janissaries solving crimes, en­
forcing laws, and escorting ambassadors, and one Janissary in this register acts as a
moneylender.78 In Istanbul, where they have been studied most intensively, the Janis­
saries’ roles in supplying the palace and the corps itself had led them into occupations

76 Kitâbu mesâlih, ed. Yücel, 98-100.

' l l K. Inan, ‘Remembering the Good Old Days: The Ottoman Nasihatname [Advice Letters] Lit­
erature of the 17th Century’, in A. Gémes, F. Peyrou, and I. Xydopoulos (eds), Institutional
Change and Stability: Conflicts, Transitions and Values (Pisa 2009), 120.
78 Mühimme 90 (7 out of 22 entries); see entries 64, 74, 75, 96, 128, 141, 157, 219, 264, 268,
271, 330, 334, 366, 370, 389, 421, 423, 433, 439, 492. There is one complaint of Janissaries
being taxed, one of a Janissary oppressing the peasants, and one of a Janissary being arrested.
Two Janissaries are robbed, one is almost killed by bandits, and one has a merchant father who
is killed and robbed. One entry concerns people pretending to be Janissaries. One Janissary
is married with a son, and two die leaving estates. In the first half of the seventeenth century,
about half the Janissaries of Istanbul were married; G. Yilmaz Diko, ‘Blurred Boundaries be­
tween Soldiers and Civilians: Artisan Janissaries in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul’, in S. Fa-
roqhi (ed.), Breadfrom the Lion s Mouth: Artisans Strugglingfor a Livelihood in Ottoman Cit­
ies (New York 2015), 175-193.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 133

that also supplied the city with food, fuel, and raw materials.79 They were increasingly
active in tax collection, credit, and moneylending.80 As their economic activities multi­
plied, they developed associations with more and more guilds; by the mid-seventeenth
century about half the guilds that had cases in the Istanbul court registers had military
associations; examples are the kebab-sellers, hozo-makcrs, tanners, metalworkers, can­
dle-makers, butchers, coffee-house owners, and barbers.81 Janissaries took up similar
occupations throughout the Empire where they were stationed as fortress garrisons in the
cities or on the frontiers. As they adopted civilian pursuits, civilians (many in the same
occupations) acquired Janissary status, which gave them protection and freed them from
taxation. Janissaries obtained economic monopolies, especially in the provinces, which
provided most o f their wealth and gave them a certain autonomy from the state and its
representatives.8283
In terms o f imperial policy, the main problem with the Janissaries at this point was
not their identity or fitness for battle but the financial difficulty o f paying their salaries.
This is in fact the only complaint that Kâtip Çelebi makes about the Janissaries in his
1653 treatise, Düstûrü'1-amel li-islahi’l-halelP Like phlegm in the body, he says, the
military is necessary for the health o f the state, but too much o f it indicates some sick­
ness or imbalance o f the humours. He gives the following list o f figures for the salaried
military forces (mainly the Janissaries and palace cavalry); these differ somewhat from
Koçi Bey’s figures but sound equally horrifying.

DATE NUM BER OF TROOPS TOTAL OF SALARIES

970/1562 41,479 1223 yiik o f akçes
55
974/1566 48,316 1264
55
997/1588-89 64,425 1782
55
1004/1595 81,870 2512
55
1018/1609 91,202 3800
Osman & Mustafa 100,000 ?
55
Murad IV 59,257 (Janissaries 30,000+) 2631
(under Mehmed, Bayram, and Kara Mustafa Pashas)

79 Yilmaz, ‘The Economic and Social Roles of the Janissaries’, 197-200.

80 Darling, Revenue-Raising and Legitimacy, 169; Yilmaz, ‘The Economic and Social Roles of
the Janissaries’, 208-243.
81 E. Yi, Guild Dynamics in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul: Fluidity and Leverage (Leiden 2004),
139.
82 E. Kostopoulou, ‘Cretan Janissaries in the Ottoman Army, 1750-1826’, a review of TheSocial,
Administrative, Economic, and Political Dimensions o f the Ottoman Army: Cretan Janissaries,
1750-1826 (in Greek), by Y. Spyropoulos, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Crete,
2014, http://www.dissertationreviews.org/archives/12097, accessed 25 October 2015. See also
Spyropoulos’ contribution in the present volume.
83 Kâtip Çelebi, Bozukluklarm düzeltilmesinde tutulacak yollar (düstûru ’l-amel li-islahi ’l-halel),
trans. A. Can (Ankara 1982), 26-27.
134 LINDA T. DARLING

The treasury, the empty stomach o f the body politic, was unable to meet so large an
expenditure, said Kâtip Çelebi, and the Empire needed a “man o f the sword” who could
reduce the toll o f salaries and corruption by force. Kôprülü Mehmed Pasha (1656-1661)
took this literally; when he came to power, he is supposed to have dismissed or executed
10,000 o f the elite, replacing them with his own followers. In this way he seems to have
gained control o f the ballooning expenditures and created an entirely new set o f condi­
tions among the military elite, to which the political literature o f the second half o f the
seventeenth century responded.

Conclusion
On the issue o f the Janissaries, the nasihatnames written by men o f the devçirme take the
most extreme position, vociferously demanding the elimination o f all Janissaries who
were not, like themselves, dev$irme recruits or sons o f devçirme recruits. The kanun-
name takes the same position, and its author belongs to the same group, but by virtue
o f its genre and its early date it is more moderate in tone. The nasihatnames authored
by men o f other origins take intermediate positions: Aziz Efendi, a bureaucrat, recom­
mends elimination o f the outsiders but recognises that they are both more acceptable and
less pernicious than other writers have said, while the scribal author and Kâtip Çelebi
have few complaints beyond the expense o f their salaries. For the miihimme registers,
however, the question o f Janissary origins is a complete non-issue; governmental edicts
on the Janissaries are concerned with their assignments, their salaries, their discipline,
and their well-being. When discussing individuals, these edicts never mention how they
became Janissaries or who their fathers were.
The issue o f outsiders in the Janissary corps, to which the advice writers devoted
so much anguished rhetoric, was never treated as problematic in actual state policy.
As Kafadar put it, “the administrations o f Selim II (r. 1566-74) and Murad III (r.1574-
95) chose to be more flexible on the incorporation o f new elements into the standing
army”.84 The Sultans themselves ordered the enlistment o f men outside the devçirme,
and their officials created the additional units to which outsiders belonged. Reforms o f
the Janissary corps had to do with reducing the cost o f their salaries for the treasury
rather than discharging Janissaries on the basis o f their origins or eliminating the new
recruitment methods. Indeed, it was the old recruitment method, the devfirme, that was
eliminated, and as Yilmaz argues, this must have been a conscious policy adopted to
control the elite as much as to deal with conditions o f the early seventeenth century.85

84 C. Kafadar, ‘Janissaries and Other Riffraff of Ottoman Istanbul: Rebels without a Cause?’
IJTS, 13.1-2(2007), 116.
85 Yilmaz, ‘Becoming a Devçirme’, 130; she discusses a mistrust of the devçirme that arose ow­
ing to their rebellions, which may have contributed to their defensiveness. Radusev notes that
the curtailment of the devçirme coincides with an escalation of conversions to Islam and won­
ders if the cause of the conversions is partly Balkan men not wanting to lose their opportunity
for upward mobility; Radusev, ‘The Ottoman Ruling Nomenclature’, 66.
 OTTOMAN POLITICAL THOUGHT AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE JANISSARIES 135

It struck hardest at those who complained the loudest. The rhetoric o f the few devçirme
recruits who remained grew more shrill as they saw their numbers diminish and their
advice ignored. We can hardly consider their complaints as representing the mainstream
o f Ottoman political thought. It was the actions o f the government, about which no
advice works or even kanunnames were written, that truly represent Ottoman political
thought at this juncture. This cannot be discovered by reading only what is commonly
considered political literature; the nasihatnames are no shortcut to the political thought
o f this period.
Treated as representing a minority view, however, these works, in conjunction with
other sources, do provide insight into issues of contention among the elites and the terms
on which their battles were fought out. If they were not manuals o f political thought, the
nasihatnames nonetheless represent a political position. The question then arises, did
their authors speak for a consistent minority faction, or did they re-combine in different
groupings over different issues? Comparing the writers’ positions on different questions
may allow us to see the extent to which their alliances shifted or remained stable. Bring­
ing their works into dialogue with other forms o f literature— chronicles, laws, registers,
poetry— will assist in the identification o f genre-specific and period-specific features, as
well as further alliances among the elite, or the conditions with which changes in state
institutions can be associated. If the nasihatnames represent minority views, we need to
identify ways to discern the dominant political views, since literary arguments for them
seem to be absent. Moreover, the writing o f a nasihatname was itself a political act, and
that act must be situated in the political context o f the moment when it occurred, and sur­
rounding acts by others must be identified.
Armed with this knowledge, we can return to the chronicles and miihimme registers
and reassess the decisions and actions recorded there to uncover the concepts behind the
actual political directions taken by the Empire. The majority view in Ottoman political
thought was apparently that the devoirme was unnecessary, that the Janissaries were use­
ful for many purposes other than fighting, and that the benefits o f intensifying patronage
outweighed the disadvantages. The state in which these positions made sense was not
the declining state depicted in the nasihatnames but a state that was becoming less o f a
military machine and was experiencing economic and social change and even growth.
As several scholars have pointed out, the anxiety o f the devçirme men arose from a
shift towards a commercialised and monetarised society, with its consequences for men’s
relations to each other and to the state. The analysis in the advice literature attributes
these changes to the personal ethics o f the individuals involved or to specific conditions
in Ottoman institutions, but they were part o f a global transformation that had similar
effects in Europe and China. The study o f Ottoman political economy in a comparative
context will greatly illuminate the cultural manifestations o f this shift; by the same token,
greater attention to the actual political culture and not just the complaints o f a few will
further illuminate the economic and social consequences o f the commercialisation of
society. And what were the effects o f each country’s experts thinking that the problem lay
within their own country alone? The study o f the Ottoman nasihatnames as symptomatic
o f social changes undesired by some can thus contribute to the understanding o f the intel­
136 LINDA T. DARLING

lectual responses to the ‘seventeenth-century crisis’ on a larger scale. At the same time,
uncovering the ideas that actually guided the state will radically change our assessment
o f Ottoman politics in this period.
 “AND THE QUESTION OF LANDS IS VERY CONFUSING”:
BiRGiVÎ MEHMED EFENDI (D. 981/1573)
ON LAND TENURE AND TAXATION

K atharina I vany T

T h e l eg a l status of la n d ow n ersh ip a n d taxation was a topic o f heated debate

among Ottoman ulema o f the early modem period. This paper will focus on Birgivî
Mehmed Efendi’s discussion o f the question o f lands in al-Tarïqa al-muhammadiyya, a
popular manual o f exhortation (yva'z) and advice (nasïha).' One o f the most vociferous
conservative dissidents in the negotiation o f Islamic orthodoxy o f the sixteenth century,
Birgivî was involved in a number o f debates concerning questions o f great political, ethi­
cal and socio-economic import. These included the debate over the so-called cash w aqf
the question o f whether or not Muslims should receive payment for the performance of
communal duties, the relative status o f imperial law vis-à-vis the sharia, and so on.*12
The fact that the question o f land ownership and taxation would feature in a manual of
popular ethics, devoted to the cultivation o f personal piety in everyday life, is significant.
Indeed, as this paper will argue, for Birgivî the cultivation o f a pious self, which included
the eradication o f vices such as anger, envy, and arrogance, was intimately connected to
issues o f larger economic and political concern. Since the believer was not isolated from
the world at large, he had to understand the implications o f his economic relations— in
the widest sense o f the word— for salvation or damnation after death, respectively. In
fact, it was not only individual virtue, but societal virtue that mattered. The question of
state revenues, including the legal status o f land ownership, was one of the most funda­

* Independent scholar.
1 Birgivî, al-Tarïqa al-muhammadiyya wa ‘l-sira al-ahmadiyya, ed. A. S. 'All (Cairo 1937). For
a detailed discussion of the work and secondary literature, see K. Ivanyi, ‘Virtue, Piety and the
Law: a study of Birgivî Mehmed Efendl’s al-Tarïqa al-muhammadiyya’, unpublished Ph.D.
dissertation, Princeton University, 2012.
2 For the cash waqf, see J. E. Mandaville, ‘Usurious Piety: The Cash Waqf Controversy in the
Ottoman Empire’, IJMES, 10 (1979), 289-308. For an excellent recent appraisal of the debates
relating to the question of imperial kanun vs. the sharia and the development of Flanafi legal
discourse in the early modem Ottoman Empire more generally, see G. Burak, The Second For­
mation o f Islamic Law (Cambridge 2015). For some of the other debates, see Ivanyi, ‘Virtue,
Piety and the Law’, 31-32 and 48-63.
138 KATHARINA IVANY1

mental issues when it came to the establishment o f societal virtue to begin with. Indeed,
it could not be ignored. Just as in the case o f the cultivation o f individual virtues, such as
forbearance, temperance, or generosity, the point o f departure in Birgivî’s discussion in
economic matters was personal obligation. Thus, it was not so much the case o f a move
from ‘private’ to ‘public’ that we witness in Birgivî’s discussion, but rather a question
o f the adherence to the laws o f God, as understood by man, through the process offiqh.
The five ahkâm o f Islamic Law and the proper interpretation and understanding o f the
situation at hand ( 'ilm al-hat) were thus central to the establishment o f societal virtue.
As Colin Imber and others have argued, Ebussuud’s tenure as çeyhülislam saw the
radical re-interpretation (in legal terms) and practical systematization o f what was a
patchy and complex field o f administration.3 Indeed, Snjezana Buzov has convincingly
shown that it was following Grand Vizier Ibrahim Pasha’s (d. 942/1536) failed attempt
to ‘purify’ the kanun o f its un-Islamic characteristics that Ebussuud embarked upon his
project o f providing a harmonizing legal framework for the status and administration of
lands under Ottoman dominion.45What Ebussuud did was to, in effect, justify many o f the
pre-existing, customary practices o f the lands that had come under Ottoman rule in terms
o f Hanafi doctrine. According to Imber, “it was above all this redefinition which gained
[Ebussuud] the reputation o f having reconciled the kanun with the sharia.”s Indeed, “his
statements on Ottoman [land] tenure and taxation came to occupy a central position in
the Ottoman legal canon.”6
This was a thorn in Birgivî’s side, since he considered Ebussuud’s re-interpretation o f
the law on land tenure and taxation not only misguided, but actually contrary to the origi­
nal intent o f the sharia, as expressed by the earliest authorities. Indeed, Birgivî would
proceed to contest Ebussuud’s pronouncements regarding the status o f land as passion­
ately as he fought the cash waqf. In the last part o f the Tarîqa we thus find a section on
the question o f land tenure and taxation that is worth investigating in some detail.7

3 For a good introduction to Ebussuud’s legal doctrines regarding Ottoman land, see C. Im-
ber, Ebu’s -suud: The Islamic Legal Tradition (Edinburgh 1997), 115-138; for post-classical
Hanafi theories of the legal status of land, with particular reference to Mamluk and Ottoman
Egypt, see B. Johansen, The Islamic Law on Land Tax and Rent: The Peasants' Loss o f Prop­
erty Rights as Interpreted in the Hanafi Legal Literature o f the Mamluk and Ottoman Periods
(London 1988).
4 For Pargah ibrahim Pasha, also known in the sources as both makbul (“the favorite”) and mak-
tul (“the one who was executed”), see ÎA, s.v. ‘ibrahim Paça’ (T. Gôkbilgin), 908-915. For his
H.936/1530 CE kanunname of the Bosnian sancak, as well as that of the Vlachs of Hersek, and
the ultimate failure of his ‘purge’, see S. Buzov, ‘The Lawgiver and His Lawmakers: The Role
of Legal Discourse in the Change of Ottoman Imperial Culture’, unpublished Ph.D. disserta­
tion, University of Chicago, 2005, 46-75. For Ebussuud’s preamble to the kanunname of Buda
as well his fatwas on land questions (later compiled under the title Kanun-i Erazi), see ibid.,
82-100.
5 Imber, Ebu s-su 'ud, 51, and, in similar terms, p. 136.
6 Ibid., 51.
7 Birgivî, al-Tarïqa, 213-215. See also M. Mundy and R. Saumarez Smith, Governing Proper­
ty, Making the Modern State: Law, Administration and Production in Ottoman Syria (London
 “AND THE QUESTION OF LANDS IS VERY CONFUSING' 139

Birgivî begins by stating that “the question o f land (amr al-arâdï) is very confusing
(,mushawwash jiddan) in our age.” This is, he says,

“Because those who hold [land] (ashâbahâ) act as if they were the actual owners (mullâk), in
terms of selling, renting, cultivating, and so on; and they pay the [different forms of| kharâj
to the military (muqâtila) or other persons appointed by the Sultan (mimman ‘ayyanahu al-
sultan). But if they sell [it], then the person appointed by the Sultan to collect the taxes takes
part of the price. And if they die, and if they leave sons, only they inherit the land, to the exclu­
sion of the rest of the heirs; and his debts are not demanded, nor are the bequests [of the one
who had held the land] executed. Otherwise [if there are no sons], the person appointed by the
Sultan sells the land.”8

According to classical Hanafi jurisprudence, ownership o f land was originally vested in

the individual, arising from a recognition by the imam o f those who possessed lands at
the time o f the conquest.9 The religious status o f the owners at the time o f conquest de­
fined the nature o f the tax that had to be paid; (i) ‘ushr in the case o f Muslims, (ii) kharâj
in the case on non-Muslims. The status o f kharâj lands remained fixed, however, even
when the owners later converted to Islam or when the lands were sold to Muslims. Thus,
from a relatively early stage, the initial connection between the legal status o f the owner
and land was severed.10 Also, while Hanafi doctrine provided for the possibility o f the
ruler designating conquered land as w a q f property or as property o f the treasury, this was
treated as an exception, rather than as the rule, as both Mundy and Johansen have pointed
out.11 The basic understanding was thus one o f individual ownership, not ownership by
the state.
Under the Mamluks, however (and possibly also in Central Asia, in a parallel de­
velopment), a new principle was formulated in post-classical Hanafi legal theory which
understood land ownership to be lodged in the treasury (bayt al-mâl). The argument was
that, while ownership had indeed originally been vested in the individual, over time, as
the original owners and their descendants had died, the land gradually passed into the
hands o f the treasury.12 Thus, an ew strand o f Hanafi jurisprudence, as represented in the
works o f Ibn al-Humam (d. 861/1457) and Ibn Qutlubugha (d. 879/1474), for example,
came to see state ownership o f land as the norm, rather than individual ownership.13 In

2007), 17-18. Mundy and Saumarez Smith have translated and analyzed large parts of this sec­
tion and I am greatly indebted to their efforts. The translation offered here is my own.
8 Birgivî, al-Tariqa, 213.
9 See Mundy and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 11, and Ô. L. Barkan, ‘Miilk topraklar
ve sultanlann temlik hakki’, in the posthumously published collection of his essays, Türkiye 'de
toprak meselesi (Istanbul 1980), 231-247.
10 Cf. Mundy and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 12.
11 Ibid, and B. Johansen, The Islamic Law on Land Tax and Rent, 18.
12 See B. Johansen on the ‘death’ of the kharâj-payer, The Islamic Law on Land Tax and Rent, 82-
85.
13 Opening up another potentially important avenue in the study of the development of Hanafi
doctrine, Mundy and Saumarez Smith argue (on the basis of al-Fatâwâ al-tâtârkhâniyya) that
140 KATHARINA IVANYI

this scheme, the right to cultivate lands was delegated by the ruler to the cultivators, in
various kinds o f arrangements, with middle-men administrators, usually military tax-
farmers, assigned the duty o f collecting taxes.
Ottoman administrative practice seems to have followed this basic understanding of
treasury ownership from the beginning. Thus, upon conquest, the Ottomans would usu­
ally designate new lands as m îrî (i.e., ‘o f the ruler’), and confirm, by way o f a kanun-
name, the tax arrangements that had previously governed the province in question. Thus,
the feudal structure o f much o f the old system o f land tenure in the Balkans, for example,
remained unchanged, with taxes paid by the cultivators (i.e., the lessees) as before, while
the land itself came to be designated as property o f the treasury (mîrî).u
Indeed, as Halil inalcik has argued, “[...] in the Balkan countries the peasantry in
general had never been proprietors o f the soil which they worked, and this state o f things
facilitated the Ottoman policy o f establishing there a régime o f state property. It simply
replaced the old native aristocracy and the small Balkan states in the proprietorship of
lands. Now a universal state succeeded to the feudal lords and the old practices persisted,
it must be pointed out that in this way many instances o f bid'a, that is innovation, slipped
into the Ottoman legislation.”1415 Birgivî could not have agreed more.
In fact, it was the changes brought about by the Balkan conquests, in particular, and
later that o f Hungary (with the kanunname o f Buda, issued in 948/1541), which guided
much o f the legal debate. For while Ottoman administrative practice did recognize the
category o f mixlk land (i.e., personal property that could be sold and bequeathed, as clas­
sical Hanafi doctrine envisioned), the great majority o f Ottoman lands were understood
to be mîrî, i.e., state lands (arazi-i memleket), belonging to the treasury.16
In Birgivi’s view, this was the first fundamental aberration in the land tenure system
as it pertained, although it is not one that he addresses in the above excerpt directly.
Rather, he deals with the complicated and often contradictory legal consequences the
doctrine o f treasury ownership entailed for those who cultivated the lands. Since those

“there may have been a second Central Asian genealogy for this doctrine.” See Governing
Property, 240, fin. 8.
14 For a very useful discussion (including an overview of some of the extensive literature) on the
use of the term ‘feudal’—much debated even in its European context—with regard to Ottoman
history, see J. Matuz, ‘The Nature and Stages of Ottoman Feudalism’, Asian and African Stud­
ies, 16 (1982), 281-292.
15 H. Inalcik, ‘Land Problems in Turkish History’, The Muslim World, 45, 3 (1955), 221.
16 Different Ottoman jurists of the sixteenth century tried to justify or explain this new doctrine of
state ownership in different ways. Kemalpaçazade, for instance, adopted a historical argument
similar to the ‘death-of-the-ttarq/-payer’ argument of Ibn al-Humam in Egypt, saying that the
original presumption of individual ownership was superseded by historical events. Ebussuud,
on the other hand, gives two main explanations for treasury ownership: (i) the ‘Sawâd argu­
ment’, (ii) an argument on the basis of practicability and public interest. For both, see Mundy
and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 15 and 242f., fn. 30. For the malikâne divanî as per­
sonal property in the sixteenth century (not to be confused with the malikâne of later centuries),
see N. Beldiceanu, Le timar dans l ’État ottoman (début X IV-début XVIe siècle) (Wiesbaden
1980), 33.
 “AND THE QUESTION OF LANDS IS VERY CONFUSING” 141

who cultivated the land were not its owners, the kharâj could not actually be demanded
o f them. Furthermore, if they were not the actual owners, common legal transactions
pertaining to property, such as ‘sale’, ‘inheritance’, or ‘the right to pre-emption’ could not
apply either. Nonetheless, Birgivî complains, the lessees “act as if they were the actual
owners”, not only “in terms o f selling, renting and cultivating”, but also in that “they pay
the kharâj [...] to the military or other persons appointed by the Sultan”.
According to the earlier Mamluk interpretations, what cultivators owed when land
was owned by the treasury was not a tax, but rent ( ijâra). This idea was taken up in
modified form in the Ottoman context, too, as when Ebussuud first described the rela­
tionship between cultivators and the treasury as one o f “defective rental” {ijârafâsida) . 17
However, the problem was that in order for a contract o f rental to be valid according to
the law, the duration o f the lease had to be specified, which was not the case here.18 In­
deed, as opposed to Mamluk jurists, Ebussuud in his later years prefers to avoid the term
ijâra altogether, as Mundy has shown, instead arguing that the relationship between the
treasury and cultivators was one o f “delegation” (Tr. tefviz, Ar. tajwld) o f the use-right
or ‘object utility’ {manfa ‘a) o f the land, while the ownership (raqaba) remained with the
treasury, much as in a rental agreement, but without the actual rental. At other points he
also speaks o f the relationship as a “loan” (Tr. ariyet, Ar. ‘âriya), or he explains the land
to be “an object held in trust” (Tr. vedia, Ar. wadi a).19
In whichever way the relationship between cultivators and the treasury was con­
ceived, there were two aspects o f the Ottoman land system that would complicate any
strictly Islamic appropriation (i.e., any straightforward justification in terms o f Hanafi
fiqh). First, there was the so-called tapu fee {resm-i tapu), which was a fee collected by
administrators, generally sipahis, whenever a new cultivator took over mîrî land (i.e.,
when land was passed on from an old cultivator to a new one).20 Often interpreted as an
‘entry-fee’, it is what Birgivî refers to when he says that “if [those who hold the land]
sell it, then the person appointed by the Sultan [...] takes part o f the price”. No such ar­
rangement could exist if the proper Hanafi terms o f a rental contract {ijâra) were adhered
to, nor indeed in the case o f either a ‘delegation’ {tafwld), a ‘loan’ ( ‘âriya), or a ‘deposi­
tion as a trust’ {wadj. Indeed, Ottoman jurists before Birgivî, such as Kemalpaçazade,
for instance, had already argued that the tapu fee could not be justified in terms o f the
sharia, but derived from imperial kanun alone. Ebussuud, however, argued that the fee
was valid in Hanafi terms, representing an “advance on rent” (Tr. ücret-i muaccele, Ar.
ujra mu 'ajjala).21 Like the idea o f a ‘defective rent’, this was an interpretation Birgivî
was to vehemently reject.

17 Mundy and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 16.

18 Birgivî speaks of it in terms of tawqît.
19 Mundy and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 16.
20 See EP, s.v. ‘Tapu’ (S. Faroqhi), 209-210.
21 See H. Inalcik, ‘Islamization of Ottoman Laws on Land and Land Tax’, in C. Fragner and K.
Schwarz (ed.), Festgabe an Josef Matuz: Osmanistik—Turkologie—Diplomatik (Berlin 1992),
102.
142 KATHARINA IVANYI

The second aspect o f the tapu system that was difficult to defend in terms o f the sharia
was the practice by which land conferred by tapu deed could only be inherited by sons
(in some cases, brothers) o f the deceased cultivator. This, o f course, ran blatantly counter
to sharia provisions o f inheritance for both male and female heirs, including wives and
daughters. Hence Birgivi’s comment that “if they die, and if they leave male children,
only they [i.e., the sons] inherit the land, to the exclusion o f the rest o f the heirs”.
This was not the only thing unlawful according to the sharia, however. Indeed, Birgivi
continues to lament that “his debts [i.e., the debts accrued by the deceased cultivator] are
not demanded”, either. For according to Hanafi fiqh, all o f a deceased person’s debts had
to be paid before any property or possessions could be passed on to the heirs. This was
not the case with tapu land, however, which— since it was understood as belonging to the
treasury— was ‘sold’ on to new cultivators for usufruct if there were no male descendants
o f the previous cultivator to take over.
Birgivi embarks upon a detailed analysis and critique o f the consequences o f the tapu
system in a discussion that, as M artha Mundy has argued, would “prove utterly damning
for the legality o f the Ottoman land regime”.22 Birgivi offers two possible approaches
to the problem, as he saw it. First, he says, the issue could be tackled from the ‘classi­
cal’ point o f view, which considered ownership o f land to be vested in the individuals in
whose ‘hand’ it actually was (i.e., those who cultivate it): “If we consider the question o f
actual possession (fa-idhâ i ‘tabarnâ bi-l-yad)'\ he says, “we would say that the land is
owned by the individual who has possession o f it {anna al-ard mulk li-dhï al-yad), which
means that it must be inherited by all o f the heirs, after deduction o f debts and bequests
{ba'd an tuqdà minhâ duyünuhu wa-tunfadh wasàyâhu). To deprive [rightful heirs] other
than sons, and to fail to honor [payment o f debts and the execution o f special bequests
o f the deceased] constitutes injustice (zulrri). But if [only the male heirs] dispose o f it, or
those appointed by the Sultan, if no male children exist, this represents disposal o f prop­
erty by a third party [who has no right to dispose o f it], the result o f which is reprehen­
sible (khabïth).”23 Furthermore, “if the person appointed by the Sultan takes all or part
o f the price o f sale o f the land, it is unlawful (haramj’. That is to say, Birgivi explicitly
says that the tapu fee, which was collected by the administrator when land deeds were
transferred, was illegal.
After laying out the fundamental problems o f the issue at hand in such a clear way,
Birgivi next addresses the argument according to which individual ownership o f land
came to be replaced by state ownership. For even when the assumption o f state owner­
ship was conceded, many o f the details o f the system were still unlawful. “If we assume”,
Birgivi says, “that the lands are not owned by those who hold them {anna al-aràdïlaysat
bi-mamlükatin li-ashâbihâ), but that their ownership (raqaba) belongs to the treasury, as
is the understanding in our age {al-ma ‘hüdf i zamanina), and as our fathers and grandfa­
thers knew it, that the Sultan, when he conquered a place, did not divide its lands among
those entitled to take booty— this is permissible, because the imam can choose between

22 Mundy and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 17,

23 Birgivi, al-Tarïqa, 213.
 “AND THE QUESTION OF LANDS IS VERY CONFUSING’ 143

dividing [the land among those entitled to booty] and keeping it for the Muslims until the
Day o f Resurrection, by stipulating a tax (bi-wad ‘kharâj). Then those who are on it have
the right to cultivate it (wa-yakün tasarruf dhîal-yadfihâ).”24 Birgivî thus reiterates the
classical doctrine that the ruler had the right to choose to either divide conquered lands
among his army, or “keep it for the Muslims until the Day o f Resurrection” .
“This”, he says, “can happen in one o f two ways [...]: They are either considered as in
the position o f owners ( iqâmatuhum maqâm al-mullâk), in terms o f cultivating and pay­
ing the kharâj-, or [they pay] rent ( ijâra) equal to the value o f the kharâj, in which case
what is taken from them is kharâj for the ruler, but rent for them. In either case, neither
sale, gift, the right o f pre-emption, the foundation o f a waqf, inheritance, or the like are
possible.”25 That is to say, the cultivators who ‘hold’ the land (i.e., in whose ‘hands’ it
is) cannot sell it, bequeath it as a gift, endow it as waqf, or inherit it. This is because they
are not the rightful owners; they just stand in the place o f owners. They are like owners
for cultivation and tax-paying purposes, but nothing more, since the state (or rather the
treasury, to be more precise) is the true owner.
As for the second possible interpretation o f the status o f cultivators, namely as ten­
ants who pay rent, Birgivî believes that “it is less in contradiction with the law and less
harmful to people” than arguing that they are stand-in owners. While it should thus be
preferred to the first option, he also stresses that it is “clear that the sale [of such land by
them] is invalid ( bâtiÎ), and the price paid a bribe (rishwa)”.2627That is to say, the ‘sale’
or transfer o f state land from one cultivator to another (under the legal term ‘sale’) was
not legally valid for Birgivî, nor was the tapu fee, which he argued constituted an illegal
‘bribe’.
What was happening, on a practical level, was that cultivators would exchange lots of
mîrî land between themselves according to sharia prescriptions o f ‘sale’. Indeed, asM un-
dy and Smith have argued, “there was a kind o f market wherein cultivators exchanged
their rights to lots and drew up contracts governing factors o f production, such as plough­
ing, weeding and harvesting. Yet this was a market heavily conditioned by administrative
control over permanent exchanges o f lots, subject to a tapu fee extracted by the timari.”21
Thus, in order to transfer a given lot, for example, the incumbent cultivator, the timarl
administrator, and the person who was aspiring to secure the lot for himself composed a
contract stipulating the ‘sale’ o f the deed from the incumbent to the aspiring cultivator,
with the tapu fee being paid to the timari for official recognition.
According to Suraiya Faroqhi, “conditions o f holding a piece o f land by tapu showed
certain common features throughout the Ottoman Empire [...] 'fapii-hdd land consisted
o f fields, and was in principle leased to the cultivator in perpetuity, as long as the latter
cultivated the land. Land left fallow for three years [...] could be taken from the holder
and turned over to another. According to the kanunname o f Vize, it did not matter if the

24 Ibid.
25 Ibid.
26 Ibid.
27 Mundy and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 19.
144 KATHARINA IVANYI

original holder o f the land had been the one who had first brought it under cultivation;
once the land was reassigned, he had lost all rights to it.”28
Even though Birgivî disgruntledly accepted the idea o f state ownership and the as­
sumption that cultivators could be interpreted as ‘renters’, he reiterates at several points
in his discussion that he accepted this assumption only out o f necessity and that there was
“great corruption” in this. For while those who cultivated the lands were supposed to be
considered ‘renters’ (i.e., as paying ‘rent’— rather than ‘tax’— in exchange for the right
to cultivate), the tapu deeds that were drawn up in the exchange o f lots were drafted in
a language o f ‘sale’. “Rental”, however, Birgivî argues, “cannot be contracted with the
words denoting a sale (al-ijâra la tun ‘aqid bi-lafz al-bay,) ” .29
Meticulously seeking out the many inconsistencies and contradictions (from the
point o f view o f Hanafi fiqh) in the arguments o f those who supported the tapu system,
Birgivî’s discussion is long and detailed, and sometimes not devoid o f inconsistent rea­
soning itself. For example, although he initially agreed (albeit disgruntledly) to interpret
the money cultivators paid to the state as ‘rent’, he later focusses on the fact that it is “rent
only from their point o f view”, not from “the point o f view o f the owner”, i.e., the state,
for which it is ‘tax’. Thus, at some later point he reverts to saying that what they pay “is
in fact a tax [...] not a true rent” .30 This lets him include a number o f direct attacks on
Ebussuud, whose classification o f the relationship as one o f “defective rent”, he explic­
itly rejects as “very corrupt” {fasidjiddan). The same verdict is meted out on Ebussuud’s
interpretation o f the tapu fee as “an advance on rent”.31 Indeed, time and again, Birgivî
will return to what he regarded as the clear illegitimacy o f the tapu fee, in one instance
even arguing that it would be more logical for the ‘seller’ to have to pay a fee rather than
the ‘buyer’.32
Finally, what preoccupied him most, apart from the tapu fee, was the fact that only
direct male descendants could ‘inherit’ a tapu deed— a practice that ran directly counter
to Islamic provisions on inheritance. With regard to this problem, in particular, however,
Suraiya Faroqhi has pointed out that “in the course o f time, the impact of §er 1 rules of
inheritance was felt to an increasing degree” .33 Indeed, from the late sixteenth century on

28 Faroqhi, ‘Tapu’, 209.

29 Birgivî, al-Tarïqa, 215. In fact, Mundy and Saumarez Smith have noted, with great perception,
that “the legal vocabulary in which the rights of the cultivator were expressed was composed
of the terms governing rights to office”, not those governing personal property. Thus, “the de­
volution of the cultivator’s plot from father to son followed the model of devolution of office”.
And while Ottoman fiqh treated the cultivator like a quasi-office-holder, social and ideological
requirements necessitated the restriction of the category of ‘office’ to the elite, leading to con­
fusion—as Birgivî rightly laments—when it came to the peasantry. See Mundy and Saumarez
Smith, Governing Property, 19.
30 Birgivî, al- Tarïqa, 215.
31 Ibid.
32 Ibid: “Thus, if what is paid is considered as part of the tax, then the seller [i.e., the incumbent]
should pay, not the buyer, what he received as part of the tax due.”
33 Faroqhi,‘Tapu’, 210.
 “AND THE QUESTION OF LANDS IS VERY CONFUSING” 145

(and certainly so from the seventeenth), wives, daughters, and even mothers came to be
included among those entitled to ‘inherit’ tapu deeds from a deceased cultivator. Despite
significant regional variation in actual practice (in some provinces women were excluded
up until the nineteenth century), there can be no doubt that it was pious legal criticism
such as B irgivf s that must have contributed to this change.
With regard to the question o f the designation o f lands, too, criticisms like that of
Birgivî gradually made themselves felt over the course o f the next century. The Cretan
kanunname o f 1080/1670, for instance, has long been argued to represent a deliberate
departure from Ebussuud’s interpretation o f the status o f lands. More consciously in
line with classical Hanafi legal theory, the Cretan kanunname rejected Ebussuud’s inter­
pretation o f land as mîrî (‘o f the ruler’), instead adopting a concept o f lands as private
property on which tax was due in the form o f kharâj. Considering the “possible con­
nection between the land regime imposed on Crete and the Kadizadeli movement”, as
Molly Greene has argued, a century after Birgivî formulated his critique o f the Ottoman
land regime, his influence was clearly being felt.34 Gilles Veinstein, too, believes that
Kadizadeli influence must have played a significant role in the promulgation o f the Cre­
tan kanunname?5
The fact that Birgivî served as a direct inspiration for a number o f active members
o f the Kadizadeli movement is undisputed. However, by the seventeenth century, he and
his work had taken on somewhat o f a life o f their own, becoming the focus o f contention
between those o f Kadizadeli leanings and their opponents. Irrespective o f that, what is
certain is that even in his own time, Birgivî was not the only one criticizing the Ottoman
land regime for being “confusing” or not in agreement with the percepts o f classical
Hanafi fiqh. Mundy and Saumarez Smith, for instance, have found an anonymous fatwa,
possibly dating from the era o f Süleyman I, that is surprisingly similar to B irgivfs in its
critique.3637Indeed, four decades before Birgivî formulated his criticism o f contemporary
land practices in the Tarîqa, Pargali Ibrahim Pasha had already attempted to ‘purify’
the kanun by imposing, among other things, the jizya on Vlachs and Martoloses in the
preamble to the Bosnian kanunname?1 Thus, the ideas Birgivî expounded regarding the
status o f lands, the illegality o f the tapu fee, and the restriction o f ‘inheritance’ to male
descendants only were clearly in the air at the time.

34 M. Greene, ‘An Islamic Experiment? Ottoman Land Policy on Crete’, Mediterranean Histori­
cal Review, 11 (1996), 61.
35 G. Veinstein, ‘Le législateur ottoman face à l’insularité: L’enseignement des Kânûnnâme’, in
N. Vatin and G. Veinstein (eds.), Insularités ottomanes (Paris 2004), 104. Veinstein explains
this influence in tenns of the connection between Vanî Efendi, the famous Kadizadeli preacher
of the third (and last) wave of the movement, and Grand Vezier Kôprülü Fazil Ahmed Pasha.
For a detailed discussion of the debate, see E. Kermeli, ‘Caught in Between Faith and Cash:
The Ottoman Land System of Crete, 1645-1670’, in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), The Eastern
Mediterranean under Ottoman Rule, Crete, 1645-1840: Halcyon Days in Crete VI: a sympo­
sium held in Rethymno, 13-15 January 2006 (Rethymno 2008), 17-48.
36 See Mundy and Saumarez Smith, Governing Property, 16 and 244, fn. 42.
37 See Buzov, ‘The Lawgiver and His Lawmakers’, 50, and above, fn. 111.
146 KATHARINA IVANYI

In fact, pious conservative opposition to Ottoman legal and administrative practices

was nothing new. Over half a century prior to Birgivî, for instance, we find Çehzade
Korkud voicing severe criticism o f what he regarded as the illicit nature o f funds ac­
cumulated by the Ottoman beytii ’l-mal.3i Indeed, pious opposition to Ottoman fiscal and
administrative policies often found itself at the very helm o f the Ottoman religious hi­
erarchy, as in the case o f çeyhülislam Çivizade.3839 As in the case o f the cash w a q f (which
was the main bone o f contention between Çivizade and Ebussuud), Ebussuud’s inter­
pretations regarding the status o f land did not go unchallenged either, and Birgivî was
certainly not the only one to confront him.
Birgivî’s call for a narrow interpretation of the law when it came to the question
o f land tenure shows the great gap he conceived between ideal and reality— a gap that
needed to be overcome, or at least narrowed, for virtue to be established. As in the case
o f the cash waqf, or the problem o f how to remunerate individuals for the performance
o f religious services on behalf o f the community, Birgivî understood the land system of
his day to be falling seriously short o f the standards articulated in the classical texts o f
Hanafi/a/A40 Dissecting the inconsistencies and internal contradictions o f everyday land
practices (such as the exchange o f lots between cultivators, payment o f ‘entrance’ fees
and so on), in mostly dispassionate legal language, Birgivî’s discussion is successful in
conveying the difficulties the Ottoman land system would have posed to the pious man
in practical terms. Societal virtue, ju st like individual virtue, could only be established
through correct practice, which in the case o f land included the implementation o f ca­
nonically valid taxes and the avoidance o f innovation (bid'a) such as ‘entrance fees’.
Indeed, the individual believer had to be on his guard not to implicate him self in un­
lawful practices and in general to “abstain from doubtful financial schemes (al-shubuhât
al-mâliyyd)”, as Birgivî warns.41 The connection between individual virtue and wider
economic and social questions was clear. For the “uprightness o f the body” (qawarn al-
badari) and “the orderliness o f one’s livelihood” ( intizâm al-ma ‘ash) were both achieved,
he reiterates, “by way o f coins, grain and other things like it produced by the earth”
( bi-l-nuqüd wa-l-hubüb wa-nahwihimâ mimmâ yakhruj min al-ard).42 The body, as the
“pack animal” that carried m an’s virtue (matïyat al-fadâ’il) was thus intimately linked
to the earth, the things produced by it, and the way these were put to use. Moreover,

38 See. C. Fleischer, ‘From Çeyhzade [^/c.] Korkud to Mustafa Âli: Cultural Origins of the Otto­
man Nasihatname’, in H. W. Lowry and R. S. Hattox (eds.), Illrd Congress on the Social and
Economic History o f Turkey (Istanbul 1990), 67-77. The most detailed survey of the contents
of Çehzade Korkud’s nasihatname has been made by N. al-Tikriti, ‘Çehzade Korkud (ca. 1468-
1513) and the Articulation of Early 16th Century Ottoman Religious Identity’, unpublished
Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 2004, Chapter 5 (“Every soul tastes death”), 193-
233.
39 See Mandaville, ‘Usurious Piety’, 297-304.
40 For the question of remuneration for the performance of religious services, see Ivanyi, ‘Virtue,
Piety and the Law’, 31-32 and 258-262.
41 Birgivî, al-Tartqa, 216.
42 Ibid., 213.
 “AND THE QUESTION OF LANDS IS VERY CONFUSING’ 147

as with ritual practice, the rules governing the acquisition and expenditure o f worldly
wealth were clearly laid down by G od’s law. To make these rules as widely accessible
as possible, as Birgivî saw it, to propagate right practice in the economic arena just as
in the area o f ritual practice, was thus an integral part o f his overall project o f nasihat
al-muslimm. For “the w a q f and the treasury”, as Birgivî says, “when the conditions of
the law are respected regarding the two, there is nothing better in terms o f goodness. But
when they are not respected, there is nothing worse in terms o f evil.”43

43 Ibid., 210.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM:
O T T O M A N P O L IT IC S T H R O U G H T H E E Y E S O F A C R IM E A N SU FI,
1580-1593Î

D erin TERZiOGLU*

T he re is a pa rad ox in h er en t in late m edieval and early modem Sufism:* 1 even though

its practitioners believed this world to be nothing but an apparition, and aspired to esc­
hew it in their pursuit o f divine reality, Sufi masters who had fully detached themselves
from this world were also thought to be in possession o f tremendous power in the here
and now. Even if the rise o f more powerful territorial empires - most notably, those of
the Ottomans, Safavids, and Mughals - reined in the political ambitions o f the Sufis in
the early modem era, charismatic Sufi leaders continued to use their spiritual authority
and worldly connections to weigh in on a variety o f political matters in the new imperial
contexts also. Because o f a narrow conceptualisation o f early modem Ottoman politics as
the affairs o f an increasingly bureaucratised state, however, Ottomanists have paid only
scant attention to the political roles o f Sufis after the fifteenth century.2

f I dedicate this article to the memory of my dear friend Vangelis Kechriotis. He was a brilliant
historian, a kind-hearted person, and a true embodiment of the Aristotelian idea of “man as a
political animal”.
* Bogaziçi University.
1 The results of the present article are based on research funded by the European Research Coun­
cil under the European Union’s Seventh Framework Programme (FP/2015-2020)/ERC Grant
Agreement 648498, ‘The Fashioning of a Sunni Orthodoxy and the Entangled Histories of
Confession-Building in the Ottoman Empire, 15th- 17th centuries’. I wrote the final version of
the article as a visiting researcher at the Institut fur Islamwissenschaft at the Freie Universitât
in Fall 2016.1 would like to thank Gudmn Kramer for having made this affiliation possible. I
would also like to thank Denise Klein, Gülru Necipoglu, Günhan Bôrekçi, Helen Pfeifer, Peter
Campbell, and Tijana Krstic for reading over and offering comments on this article. Needless
to say, I remain responsible for all remaining errors and deficiencies.
2 On the Sufi input in Ottoman political thought in the sixteenth century, see H. Ydmaz, ‘The
Sultan and the Sultanate: Envisioning Rulership in the Reign of Süleymân the Lawgiver ( 1520-
1566)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 2005; B. Flemming, ‘Sâhib-kirân
und Mahdï: Türkische Endzeiterwartungen im ersten Jahrzehnt der Regierung Süleymâns’,
in G. Kara (ed.), Between the Danube and the Caucasus: Oriental Sources on the History of
the Peoples o f Central and Southeastern Europe (Budapest 1987); eadem, ‘Der Garni' iil-
Meknünât: Eine Quelle ‘Âlïs aus der Zeit Sultan Süleymâns’, in H. R. Roemer and A. Noth
150 DER1N TERZÎOGLU

The present article aims to contribute to a more nuanced understanding o f both the
politics o f Sufism and the practice o f politics in the Ottoman Empire in the late sixteenth
century through a contextual study o f the collection o f letters written by the Halveti she­
ikh ibrahim-i Kirimi (d. 1593) to Murad III (r. 1574-1595). This was a period when Sufis
became especially prominent in Ottoman courtly politics thanks, in no small part, to the
strong interest Murad III took in Sufism. In the earlier scholarship, M urad’s infatuation
with Sufism was linked with his purported lack o f interest in politics and was mentioned
among the factors that contributed to the onset o f Ottoman ‘decline’ in his reign. Today,
however, this approach no longer finds favour, as the decline paradigm has been rejected
as a useful framework for understanding Ottoman history after the sixteenth century, and
as religion and politics are no longer seen as having represented separate and competing
spheres o f activity in the early modern Ottoman world. Instead, the most recent study on
the topic has argued that Murad turned to Sufism not to withdraw from politics, but to
fashion him self as a ruler who combined in his person the highest spiritual and temporal
authority as part o f his efforts to transition to a more ‘absolutist’ mode o f government.*3
Curiously, however, even as Ottomanists have reconsidered the political dimensions
o f M urad’s Sufi entanglements, they have paid little attention so far to the politics o f the
Sufis who attached themselves to his court.4 This omission stems from a rather one-sided
understanding o f the relationship between the Ottoman Sultan and the Sufis in his court,

(eds), Studien Zur Geschichte und Kultur des Vorderen Orients: Festschrift fiir Bertold Spuler
zum siebzigsten Geburtstag (Leiden 1981), 79-92; C. Fleischer, ‘The Lawgiver as Messiah:
the Making of the Imperial Image in the Reign of Süleymân’, in G. Veinstein (ed.), Soliman
le Magnifique et son temps, Actes du colloque de Paris, Galeries nationales du Grand Palais,
7-10 mars 1990 (Paris 1992), 159-179; idem, ‘Ancient Wisdom and New Sciences: Prophe­
cies at the Ottoman Court in the Fifteenth and Early Sixteenth Centuries’, in M. Farhad and
S. Bagci (eds), Falnama: the Book o f Omens (London 2009), 232-243; N. Clayer, ‘Quand
l’hagiographie se fait l’écho des dérèglements socio-politiques: le Menâkibnâme de Münîrî
Belgrâdî’, in G. Veinstein (ed.), Syncrétismes et hérésies dans l ’Orient seldjoukide et ottoman
(XlVe-XVIIIe siècle): Actes du Colloque du Collège de France octobre 2001 (Paris 2005), 363-
381; for explorations of Sufi political thought in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, see
D. Terzioglu, ‘Sufi and Dissident in the Ottoman Empire: NiyazT-i Misri (1618-1694)’, un­
published Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 1999, 277-354; eadem, ‘Sunna-Minded Sufi
Preachers in Service of the Ottoman State: the Nasïhatnâme of Hasan Addressed to Murad IV’,
ArchOtt, 27 (2010), 241-342; M. Tabur, ‘ismail Hakki Bursevi and the Politics ofBalance’, un­
published M.A. thesis, Bogaziçi University, 2011 ; and B. Tezcan’s contribution in this volume.
3 Ô. Felek, ‘(Re)creating Image and Identity: Dreams and Visions as a Means of Murad Ill’s
Self-Fashioning’, in Ô. Felek and A. D. Knysh (eds), Dreams and Visions in Islamic Societies
(Albany 2012), 249-272; eadem (ed.), Kitâbü’l-menâmât: Sultan 111. Murad’m riiya mektupla-
ri (Istanbul 2014).
4 For a rare exception, see J. J. Curry “The Meeting of the Two Sultans”: Three Sufi Mystics Ne­
gotiate with the Court of Murâd III’, in J. J. Curry and E. S. Ohlander (eds), Arrangements o f
the Mystical in the Muslim World, 1200-1800 (London and New York 2014), 223-242. See also
A. Niyazioglu, Dreams and Lives in Ottoman Istanbul: A Seventeenth-Century Biographer’s
Perspective (Abingdon 2017), Chap. 3, for a discussion of Sufi and scholarly perspectives on
the Ottoman bureaucracy in this period.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 151

not to mention the dynamics o f court relations more generally. As the voluminous scho­
larship by early modem Europeanists has shown, the growing importance o f royal courts
as centres o f power and patronage after the late sixteenth century did not necessarily
bring about the eclipse o f other power groups; rather, the royal courts became the new
settings in which a variety o f powerful individuals and groups strove to exert ‘influence’
over royal policy.5 While Ottomanists have only recently begun to explore the politics
o f patronage, faction, and court, a number o f pioneering studies have also demonstrated
the significance o f court factions in the making o f Ottoman domestic, and even more so,
foreign, policy in the second half of the sixteenth and the seventeenth centuries.6
Even though the Sufis are yet to be integrated into the aforementioned scholarship,
we know o f at least one area o f policy-making that was o f direct relevance to them, and in
which some Sufis began to have a greater say in the second half o f the sixteenth century:
namely, religious and, especially confessional, politics. Here 1 have in mind primarily the
Ottoman promotion o f Sunnism as the only acceptable form o f Islam and the policies o f
Sunnitisation which were implemented by the state authorities, and secondarily, various
steps undertaken to demarcate the confessional boundaries between Muslims, Jews, and
Christians o f various denominations living under Ottoman rule.7 In this article, I use the

5 For key studies on court, faction, and patronage in early modem Europe, see S. Kettering,
Patrons, Brokers and Clients in Seventeenth-Century France (New York and Oxford 1986); R.
Mettam, Power and Faction in Louis XIV's France (Oxford 1988); R. G. Asch and A. M. Birke
(eds), Politics, Patronage and the Nobility (Oxford 1991); R Campbell, Power and Politics
in Old Regime France, 1720-1745 (London and New York 1996); M. Fantoni, The Court
in Europe (Rome 2012); for a comparative perspective on royal courts, see J. Duindam, T.
Artan and M. Kunt (eds), Royal Courts in Dynastic States and Empires: A Global Perspective
(Leiden and Boston 2011).
6 For studies that explore the sixteenth-century Ottoman royal court from diverse perspectives,
see i. M. Kunt, ‘Sultan, Dynasty and the State in the Ottoman Empire’, The Medieval History
Journal, 6 (2003), 217-230; idem, ‘Turks in the Ottoman Imperial Palace’, in J. Duindam, T.
Artan and M. Kunt (eds), Royal Courts, 289-312; B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire: Po­
litical and Social Transformation in the Early Modern World (Cambridge 2010); G. Borekçi,
‘Factions and Favorites at the Courts of Sultan Ahmed I (r. 1603-17) and his Immediate Pre­
decessors’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 2010; E. Fetvaci, Pic­
turing History at the Ottoman Court (Bloomington and Indianapolis 2013). For studies on the
importance of court factions for policy-making, see G. Casale, The Ottoman Age o f Explora­
tion (Oxford 2010), Chap. 4; E.S. Giirkan, ‘Espionage in the Sixteenth-Century Mediterranean:
Secret Diplomacy, Mediterranean Go-Betweens and the Ottoman-Habsburg Rivalry’, unpub­
lished Ph.D. dissertation, Georgetown University, 2012; idem, ‘Fooling the Sultan: Informa­
tion, Decision-Making and the Mediterranean Faction (1585-1587)’, OA, 45 (2015), 57-96.
7 On Ottoman Sunnism and Ottoman policies of Sunnitisation in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, see H. Sohrweide, ‘Der Sieg der Safaviden in Persien und seine Rtickwirkungen auf
die Schiiten Anatoliens im 16. Jahrhundert’, Der Islam, 41 (1965), 95-223; M. Dressier, ‘In­
venting Orthodoxy: Competing Claims for Authority and Legitimacy in the Ottoman-Safa-
vid Conflict’, in H. T. Karateke, M. Reinkowski (eds), Legitimizing the Order: the Ottoman
Rhetoric o f State Power (Leiden 2005), 151-173; Nabil al-Tikriti, ‘Kalam in the Service of
State: Apostasy and the Defining of Ottoman Islamic Identity’, in ibid., 131-149; D. Terziog-
152 DERIN TERZÎOGLU

term ‘confessionalism’ to highlight the new centrality o f doctrinal and ritual conformity
to social and political forms o f belonging in the early modem era - a phenomenon that
cut across boundaries o f confession and state in a vast geography extending from the
Atlantic to the Indian Ocean.8
Because Sufis were a rather heterogeneous group in their religious, social, as well as
political orientations and affiliations, their experiences in the Ottoman age o f confessiona­
lism also varied substantially. In the late fifteenth and the sixteenth centuries, it was mostly
the antinomian Sufis with Alid tendencies and questionable political loyalties who tended
to find themselves at the receiving end o f a variety o f punitive and disciplinary measures.
Sufis who were, or who were perceived to be, sharia-abiding, on the other hand, largely
preserved their place within the religious mainstream, and some o f the Sufis in the second

lu, ‘How to Conceptualize Ottoman Sunnitization: A Historiographical Discussion’, Turcica

(2012-2013): 301-338. On the demarcation and reinforcement of boundaries between Mus­
lims, Jews, and Christians in the early modem Ottoman Empire, see N. Al-Qattan, ‘Dhimmis
in the Muslim Court: Legal Autonomy and Religious Discrimination’, IJMES, 31 (1999), 429-
444; B. Tezcan, ‘Ethnicity, Race, Religion and Social Class: Ottoman Markers of Difference’,
in C.Woodhead (ed.), The Ottoman World (London and New York 2012), 159-170; K. Barkey,
Empire o f Difference: the Ottomans in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge 2008), 109-153.
8 I prefer the term ‘confessionalism’ to ‘confessionalisation’, because it allows us to recognise
the importance of confessional identities for early modem forms of social and political belong­
ing without positing a strong causal link between confessional differentiation, state-building,
and social disciplining. It seems to me that while the first phenomenon is broadly attested in
different parts of the Eurasian world, the evidence for the second is rather patchy especially
outside the German-speaking areas. While the literature on this debate is huge, for a sampling
of some of the more important studies, see T. A. Brady, ‘Confessionalization - The Career of
a Concept’, in J. M. Headly, H. J. Hillerbrand and A. J. Papalas (eds), Confessionalization
in Europe, 1555-1700: Essays in Honor o f Bodo Nischan (Aldershot 2004), 1-20; U. Lotz-
Heumann, ‘The Concept of ‘Confessionalization’: A Historiographical Paradigm in Dispute’,
Memoriay Civilizaciôn, 4 (2001), 93-114; A. Pettegree, ‘Confessionalization in North West­
ern Europe’, in J. Bahlcke and A. Strohmeyer (eds), Konfessionalisierung in Ostmitteleuropa:
Wirkungen des religiôsen Wandels im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert in Staat, Gesellschaft und Kul-
tur (Stuttgart 1999), 105-120; R. C. Head, ‘Catholics and Protestants in Graubunden: Confes­
sional Discipline and Confessional Identities without an Early Modem State?’ German His­
tory, 17 (1999), 321-345; P. Benedict, ‘Confessionalization in France? Critical Reflections and
New Evidence’, in The Fate and Fortunes o f France’s Huguenots, 1600-85 (Aldershot 2001),
309-325; T. M. Safley (ed.), A Companion to Multiconfessionalism in the Early Modern World
(Leiden and Boston 2011). For discussions on the applicability of the paradigm o f ‘confession­
alization’ to the Ottoman context, see T. Krstic, ‘Illuminated by the Light of Islam and the Glo­
ry of the Ottoman Sultanate: Self-Narratives of Conversion to Islam in the Age of Confession­
alization’, Comparative Studies in Society and History 51,1 (2009), 35-63; eadem, Contested
Conversions to Islam: Narratives o f Religious Change in the Early Modern Ottoman Empire
(Cambridge 2011); Terzioglu, ‘Where flm -i Hal Meets Catechism: Islamic Manuals of Reli­
gious Instruction in the Ottoman Empire in the Age of Confessionalization’, Past and Present
220 (2013), 79-114; eadem, ‘How to Conceptualize’; G. Burak, ‘Faith, Law and Empire in the
Ottoman ‘Age of Confessionalization’ (Fifteenth-Seventeenth Centuries): the Case of ‘Renew­
al of Faith”, Mediterranean Historical Review, 28 (2013), 1-23.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 153

category even began to lend their support to the campaigns o f religious and moral indoct­
rination in the middle decades o f the sixteenth century.9 It was also these politically loyal
and religiously conformist Sufis who benefited most from elite and royal patronage and
who found new opportunities to shape public opinion, and even royal policy as mosque
preachers, army sheikhs, and royal companions, during the reign of Murad III.
The Sufi writer whose letters to Murad III are examined in this article, ibrahim-i
Kirimî, was also one o f these politically-connected and confessionally-minded Sufis.
Specifically, he belonged to the Muslihuddin Nureddinzade branch o f the Halveti order,
which was perhaps the most active o f the ‘Sunnitising’ Sufi groups and which was es­
pecially well-represented in Istanbul and the European provinces o f the Empire. While
Kirimî him self hailed from Crimea and retained his ties to his land o f origin in later years,
he also spent most o f his adult life in eastern Rumelia and Istanbul, where he built up for
him self a wide social and political network while serving as Sufi sheikh, preacher, and,
ultimately, royal companion.
Kirim î’s letters to Murad III span the years 1580 to 1593, and provide fascinating in­
sights into the religious and political issues that preoccupied a Sufi in court circles. These
issues covered a wide range from the affairs o f the ulema to the affairs o f the Imperial
Harem, and from state policies towards nonconformist Muslims living under Ottoman
rule to military and diplomatic relations with Safavid Iran, Muscovy, and Poland-Lithu-
ania. On most o f these issues Kirimî articulated views that were strongly informed by
the rampant Sunni confessionalism o f the time, but which were nevertheless also quite
distinctive, owing to his Sufi beliefs, personal ties, and group loyalties.
Despite their rich contents, however, K inm î’s letters have not yet received the critical
attention that they deserve. In fact, K irim fs name barely surfaces in Ottomanist scho­
larship, while his letters to Murad III have been widely (but erroneously) attributed to
a more famous Sufi: the Celveti master Aziz Mahmud Hüdayî (d. 1628). Remarkably,
this misattribution has not been corrected either by the numerous Hüdayî scholars, who
have used the letters to add fanciful elements to this m aster’s biography, or by Mustafa

9 For a general treatment of the issue, see D. Terzioglu, ‘Sufis in the Age of State-Building and
Confessionalization’, in C. Woodhead (ed.), The Ottoman World (Abingdon and New York
2012), 86-99; cf. R. Ôngôren, Osmanlilar’da tasawuf: Anadolu’da sûfîler, devlet ve ulemâ
(XVI. Yiizyil) (Istanbul 2000); on Ottoman policies directed at Sufi groups deemed ‘hereti­
cal’, see A. Tietze, ‘A Document on the Persecution of Sectarians in Early Seventeenth-cen­
tury Istanbul’, Revue des études islamiques, 60 (1992), 161-166; S. Faroqhi, Der Bektaschi-
Orden in Anatolien: vom spâten fünzehnten Jahrhundert bis 1826 (Vienna 1981); A. Y. Ocak,
Osmanli toplumunda zindiklar ve mülhidler (15.-17. yüzydlar) (Istanbul 1998), Z. Yürekli, Ar­
chitecture and Hagiography in the Ottoman Empire: The Politics o f Bektashi Shrines in the
Classical Age (Birmingham 2012); A. Karakaya-Stump, Vefailik, Bektafilik, Kizilbafiik: Ale-
vi kaynaklarmi, tarihini ve tarihyazimim yeniden düçünmek (Istanbul 2016); on ‘Sunnitizing’
Sufis, see N. Clayer, Mystiques, état et société: les Halvetis dans l'aire balkanique de la fin
du XVe siècle à nos jours (Leiden 1994); J. J. Curry, The Transformation of Muslim Mystical
Thought in the Ottoman Empire: the Rise o f the Halveti Order, 1350-1650 (Edinburgh 2010);
and Terzioglu, ‘Sunna-Minded Sufi Preachers’.
154 DERIN TERZiOGLU

Salim Giiven, who prepared a modem Turkish transcription o f the letters in his unpublis­
hed M.A. thesis.10 Even the Ukrainian scholar Mykhaylo Yakubovych, who has recently
published an informative article on another work by Kinmî, does not seem to be aware
o f his letters to Murad III.11
This article, then, represents essentially the first attempt to situate the letters o f Kirimî
in their proper historical context. In the first section o f this article, I shall present the
evidence for K in m fs authorship o f the letters, and provide a brief biographical sketch of
the author. Readers who are willing to take me at my word can skip this section and pro­
ceed directly to the next two parts, in which I examine the letters (in dialogue with other
sources from the period) to gain insight into K in m fs politics. In the second section, my
aim will be primarily to analyse K inm î as a participant in Ottoman court politics. Close
attention will be paid in this regard to his relations with the Ottoman Sultan as well as a
number o f other Ottoman and Crimean political players. The social, political, and cul­
tural codes that informed these relations and the ways they are represented in the letters
will also be analysed. Then, in the third part, I will examine the interplay between religi­
on and politics, and between ideology and personal and group interests, in K irim fs advi­
ce about which policies to follow towards ‘heretics’ and ‘infidels’. The uses and limits o f
Sunni confessionalism will be a major focus o f this discussion. Finally, I will conclude
by considering some o f the broader implications o f the letters regarding Ottoman court
and confessional politics and the place o f Sufis in it at the turn o f the sixteenth century.

The authorship o f the letters: a correction

There is a simple reason why modern scholars have, until now, unanimously identified
Aziz Mahmud Hüdayî as the author o f the Tezakir, as the letters o f Kirimî are known.
While the author does not mention his name in the individual letters, in all o f the 14 ex­
tant manuscript copies o f the epistolary compilation, he is identified either by the copyist
or by a later reader as Aziz Mahmud H üdayî.12 Before we review the textual evidence

10 For the principal biographical studies which use the letters to reconstruct Hüdayî’s life, see
Z. Tezeren, Seyyid Azîz Mahmûd Hüdâyî, 2 vols (Istanbul 1984-1985), and K. Yilmaz, Aziz
Mahmûd Hüdâyî: Hayati - Eserleri - Tarikati (Istanbul 1990); for a modem Turkish transcrip­
tion of the letters, see M. S. Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle Azîz Mahmûd Hüdâyî’nin mektuplari’,
unpublished M.A. thesis, Marmara University, 1992.
11 M. Yakubovych, ‘A Neglected Ottoman Sufi Treatise from 16th century: Mawâhib al-Rahman
f i bayân Marâtib al-Akwân by Ibrâhîm el-Qirîmï’, OA, 45 (2015), 137-160.
12 Thirteen of these manuscript copies are located in diverse public libraries in Turkey: Ha-
ci Selim Aga Ktp. (hereafter HSAK), Hüdayi 251 (copied in H.1225/1810); HSAK, Hiida-
yi 260 (copied in H. 1271/1854); HSAK, Hüdayi 277; Süleymaniye Ktp. (hereafter SK), Fa­
tih 2572 (copied before 1748-1749); SK, Haci Mahmud Efendi 2508; SK, Kasidecizade 323
(copied in H.1288/1871); SK, Yazma Bagiçlar 213/1; Arkeoloji Müzesi 141/1, lb-84b (copi­
ed in H. 1273/1856); Topkapi Sarayi Müzesi Ktp. (hereafter TSMK), Hazine 269 (copied in
H.1265/1849); Bayezid Ktp. 3497 (copied in H. 1252/1837); Istanbul Üniversitesi Ktp. (here­
after IÜK), T.Y. 447 (copied in H. 1241/1825); IÜK, T.Y. 6444 (copied in H.1285/1868); IÜK,
T.Y. 9927. The fourteenth manuscript copy, which belongs to a private collection, forms the ba­
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 155

that suggests otherwise, it might be worth pointing out that the earliest extant manusc­
ript copy o f the Tezakir was made at least a century and a half after the original letters
were written. We learn from a reader’s note that prefaces one o f the later copies that the
original letters remained in the form o f loose sheets in a chest in the Imperial Treasury
until the reign o f Mahmud I (1730-1753), and came to light only after this Sultan ordered
all loose tracts iresail) and letters (tezakir) in the palace collections to be collected, re­
arranged, bound, and deposited in the library that was to be constructed adjacent to the
recently rebuilt Fatih Mosque in 1749.13
While the whereabouts o f the original letters remain unknown, it is almost certain
that MS. Fatih 2572 is the earliest extant manuscript copy o f the original letters. The ma­
nuscript in question was previously part o f the manuscript collection of Mahmud I at the
aforementioned library, and appears under the title Kitab-i Tezakire-i Hüdayî Mahmud
Efendi in the library’s first catalogue, prepared in H.1162 (1748/9).14 Despite this entry,
neither the individual letters compiled in MS. Fatih 2572 nor the manuscript as a whole
bears a title that identifies the text as the work o f Aziz Mahmud Hüdayî. The latter’s
name is mentioned only in the final notes appended to folio 303b by a later reader. This
suggests that the original letters also bore no trace o f their author’s name, and that the
letters were attributed to Hüdayî only after this compilation was made, though no later
than the mid eighteenth century.
As we shall presently see, the attribution to Hüdayî is actually not supported by textu­
al evidence, and can only be explained by the fact that when the letters were rediscovered
in the mid eighteenth century, memory o f their actual author had faded, while Hüdayî
was remembered as the most famous o f the Sufis to have hobnobbed with the Ottoman
Sultans a century and a half earlier. Once the letters were connected with Hüdayî, mo­
reover, this, in effect, created a ready readership for the letters, as Hüdayî enthusiasts,
many o f them Celvetis, rushed to make their own copies o f the letters as a relic from this
beloved Sufi.15 This dynamic seems to have been especially evident in the nineteenth
century, when most o f the dated manuscript copies were made.

sis of the modem Turkish transcription made by Güven. Even though this manuscript copy was
copied at the relatively late date of H.1258/1842, it actually closely follows the earliest extant
manuscript copy, which is SK, Fatih 2572 (Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 33-36). I have myself
checked all thirteen of the publicly available manuscript copies, but will make references here
to Güven’s transcription, as it is more readily accessible to modem readers than the manuscript
versions. References will be given to the manuscript copies only when they contain an additi­
onal remark not found in Güven’s transcription.
13 [Kirimî], Tezakir, iÜK, T.Y. 447, ib-iva.
14 Defter-i Atîk-i Sultan Mahmud-i Evvel, SK, Yazma Bagiçlar 242, 36b. The same manuscript is
mentioned with the same attribution in a later catalogue, dated H. 1284/1867: Fatih Cami'i Kü-
tüphanesinin Kadim Defteri, SK, YB 252, 29b.
15 For instance, Seyyid Salih Mehmed, who made the abovementioned note about how the letters
were originally discovered in the reign of Mahmud 1, also relates how he learned of the letters’
existence from the Celveti sheikh Ali Efendi in his hometown of Ilbasan in Albania and how
he remained restless until he obtained a copy for himself ([Kirimî], Tezakir, ÎÜK, T.Y. 447, ii-
ia-iva.). Quite possibly, the three manuscript copies of the letters preserved in the library of the
156 DERIN TERZtOGLU

Because Hüdayî was known to have been particularly close to Sultan Ahmed I (r.
1603-1617), in several o f the manuscript copies, the addressee o f the letters is identified
as Ahmed I.16 In other manuscripts, however, no such identification can be found, while
at least one Ottoman reader was careful enough to note the references to the Hijri year of
1001 (1592/93) and to conclude on this basis that the letter(s) must have been written in
the reign o f Murad III.17 Interestingly, even though modem scholars have found further
evidence linking the letters to Murad III, they have not entirely given up on the idea that
at least some o f the letters could have been addressed to Ahmed 1.18
In fact, however, there is overwhelming textual evidence that the Tezakir brings to­
gether letters addressed to one Sultan, and that is Murad III. Apart from the references
to the new millennium, Murad is mentioned by name in at least three other letters.19 In
numerous other letters, we find references to well-known officials who served under the
same Sultan, including the royal tutor Hoca Sadeddin (d. 1599), the çeyhülislams Bostan-
zade Mehmed (d. 1598) and Bayramzade Zekeriyya (d. 1593), Dilgmecizade, the Chief
Justice o f Rumelia, Hizir Pasha, the Beglerbegi o f Rumelia, and Hafiz Ahmed Pasha,
the Governor-General o f Cyprus, and later, Egypt.20 The letters also contain references
to various events that took place during the reign o f Murad III, including Ferhad Pasha’s

Hüdayî lodge in Üsküdar were also reproduced by such Celveti devotees. In fact, it is explicitly
stated in the colophon of one of these manuscripts that a certain Hâfiz Halil ibrahim of Üskü­
dar made this copy and then gave it as a gift to the Hüdayî lodge in the same neighbourhood
([Kinmî], Tezakir, HSAK, Hüdayî 251, ib).
16 [Kinmî], Tezakir, HSAK, Hüdayî 251, ib; SK, Haci Mahmud Efendi 2508,1 a; TSMK, H.K. 269.
17 [Kinmî], Tezakir, Bayezid Ktp. 3497, ia.
18 See Bayezid Ktp. 3497, ia for a reader’s note which reads: “The ninth folio contains congratu­
lations on account of the arrival of the year H. 1001/1592, which shows that the text should da­
te not from the time of Sultan Ahmed but from the time of Murad III”. Among the more recent
scholars to address the topic, Güven has argued that while many letters can indeed be shown
to have been addressed to Murad III, the possibility cannot be discarded that others were ad­
dressed to Ahmed I, and even Mehmed III, Osman II, and Murad IV, the latter also being rulers
who ruled when Hüdayî was alive. The only piece of evidence that Güven presents in support
of his argument about Ahmed I being the addressee is a letter in which the author interprets a
dream of the Sultan about a meeting with the Prophet, and mentions the mystical properties
of the letters in the name ‘Ahmed’. However, since Ahmed was also one of the names of the
Prophet Muhammad and since the said passage discusses the esoteric meaning of the name
Ahmed to draw a link between the sighting of the Prophet (Ahmad) and the sighting of God,
literally the One (Ahad), I am inclined to read the name here as a reference to the Prophet, and
not to the Sultan. (‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 37-39; for the letter referred, see 139-140.) In any case,
whether one finds Güven’s reading or mine to be more convincing, the fact remains that the
letters contain no other reference to Ahmed I or to events in his reign.
19 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 56, 177, 186.
20 For Kinmî’s remarks on Hizir Pasha, who served served as Beglerbegi of Rumelia between
Çaban H.997/June-July 1589 and Rebiü’l-ahir H.999/January-February 1591, see ibid., 57-59;
for the beginning and end of the tenure of Hizir Pasha as Beglerbegi of Rumelia, see Selanikî,
Tarih, 222-223, 231. References to the specific passages discussing the other names and events
will be given when discussing them in greater detail below.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 157

entry into Tabriz (1586), Âdil Giray’s capture and execution by the Safavids (1579), and
the banishment o f the royal astronomer Takiytiddin (1580). These references, together
with the thematic continuities and cross-references between the different letters, indicate
that the vast majority o f the letters were written during the reign o f Murad III.
There is nevertheless one clear exception to this rule, and it is a letter addressed to
Selim II (r. 1566-1574). The main subject o f this letter (or at least the part that is extant)
is the §eyhiilislam Ebussuud (d. 1574), who is referred to as “deceased” and who is pra­
ised as a high-ranking official who served “Islam, Muslims and the padishah o f Islam”,
a scholar who authored a highly commendable Q ur’an commentary during “the serene
days o f your reign” ( eyyam-i saltanat-i selimelerinizde) [note the pun on the name o f
Selim, meaning ‘serene’] and a Sufi-like figure who is “possessed o f God-fearingness
(takva) and gnosis and who is the son o f a Sufi sheikh (feyhzade), who brings together
in his person the sharia, the Sufi path ( tarikat) and divine truth (hakikat) and who has
reached the state o f sainthood [literally, the state o f one who can be asked for succour
( istimdadmakamindadur)]"?l The letter must have been written sometime in the second
half o f the year 1574, after the death o f Ebussuud in August and before the death o f Selim
in December. Interestingly, the letter lacks a proper ending, and a marginal note made by
the copyist in the earliest extant manuscript copy, MS. Fatih 1572, and which reads “I
have copied this letter until this point”, suggests that it was left incomplete on purpose.2122
Even though it is theoretically possible that the Tezakir brings together the letters o f
more than one Sufi, there is compelling evidence that all the letters addressed to Murad
III were penned by the same writer. The letters begin and end in the same stylised man­
ner, make use o f the same turns o f speech, evoke the same concepts, evince interest in the
same types o f issues, and contain many autobiographical passages which were clearly the
product o f the same pen. Below are the facts that we can ascertain about the author in the
light o f these autobiographical passages:

1) The author completed his education during the reigns o f Süleyman I and Selim II.23
2) He became a disciple o f Muslihuddin Nureddinzade (d. 1573), a Halved sheikh at
the dervish lodge o f Küçük Ayasofya in Istanbul, and lived in the same lodge two
years before the Szigetvar campaign (1565-1566).24
3) At an unspecified point, the author moved to Babaeski (called Baba in the text),
where he lived until shortly after the “martyrdom” o f his beloved patron, the Crime­
an kalga, Âdil Giray, in Safavid captivity (1579). While in Babaeski, the author also
clashed with some o f the local Muslims, whom he characterises as Shiites (rafizî),
Kizilbaç, and Simavnîs (i.e., followers o f the teachings o f Sheikh Bedreddin).25
4) Apart from Babaeski, the author was also familiar with and had contacts in a num­
ber o f other places around the Black Sea and the region o f Thrace, including Bender

21 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 35-36.

22 [Kmmî], Tezakir, SK, Fatih 2572, 53a.
23 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 80.
24 Ibid., 80, 167-168.
25 Ibid., 58-59, 61.
158 DERIN TERZÎOGLU

(Bendery) in present-day Moldova, Akkirman (Bilhorod-Dnistrovskyi), and Kili

(Kiliya) in present-day Ukraine, Dobruja in present-day Romania, Zagra (Stara Za-
gora) in present day Bulgaria and Yanya (Ioannina) in present-day Greece.
5) The author visited Istanbul twice during the reign o f Murad III. It was already du­
ring his first visit (which he dates in one passage to H.985/1577-1578 and in another
to circa 1579) that he established a close relationship with the royal tutor Hoca Sa-
deddin (d. 1599), who tried unsuccessfully to persuade him to stay in Istanbul.26 He
then came to Istanbul for a second time, “seven years ago”, and this time he ended
up staying there, when Sadeddin and several other high dignitaries once again insis­
ted that he stay. Since the author wrote this note shortly after the establishment of
peace with the Safavids (1590), his second arrival at Istanbul must have taken place
around 1583.27
6) Five months into his second stay in Istanbul, the royal tutor, the Agha o f the Porte
(.kapu agasi), and Hafiz Ahmed Aga/Pasha, who was “previously chief storekeeper
(kilercibaçî) and currently governor o f Cyprus”, helped secure the author the positi­
on o f sheikh at the lodge of Küçük Ayasofya, which had fallen vacant upon the death
o f the previous sheikh.28
7) The author accompanied the Ottoman army led by Ferhad Pasha when it entered
Tabriz (H.994/1586).29
8) The author was still sheikh in the Küçük Ayasofya lodge at the time o f his writing.
He also writes o f having been appointed preacher in the Sultan Mehmed Mosque
“this year”.30
9) One o f the author’s works was about the twelve modes o f spirituality that are ex­
hibited by the spiritually “perfect” in twelve regions o f the world, which are iden­
tified as follows: 1) the Black Sea, Crimea and what is around them; 2) Istanbul;
3) Antioch; 4) Cairo; 5) the tomb o f Moses and its environs; 6) Jerusalem and its
environs; 7) the tomb o f Abraham and Mecca; 8) Medina; 9) Damascus; 10) Basra
and Baghdad; 11) Qazvin and its environs, and 12) Bukhara and its environs. The
author wrote this work in instalments. He had already completed the part on the five
manners when he came to Istanbul seven years previously, but he finished the rest
o f the work around the time peace was concluded between the Ottomans and the
Safavids following the long-drawn-out wars in Transcaucasia (i.e., circa 1590).31
10) Sometime during his residence in Istanbul the author also completed the commen­
tary that his master Nureddinzade had begun to write on the Nusus o f Sadreddin-i
Konevî and presented it to Murad III.32

26 Ibid., 16-19.
27 Ibid., 80.
28 Ibid., 150-151.
29 Ibid., 59-61.
30 Ibid., 119-120, 132, 167-168.
31 Ibid., 80-81; see also 105-106 for a letter that was composed prior to the completion of the
work, and which mentions that three chapters still remained to be written.
32 Ibid., 80.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 159

11) The author also mentions various other tracts that he had recently completed and
submitted or was about to submit to the Sultan for his approval. These consist o f a)
a tract titled Merâtib-i kulûb ve menâzil-i ‘izzeti ’l-guyub;33 b) a tract on the staff of
Moses;34 c) a tract about the esoteric meaning o f the the Q ur’anic verse al-Qalam
68/1 ;35 d) a tract on the night o f Kadir;36 e) a tract which was a reworking o f one of
his sermons about the esoteric meaning o f the stories o f Zachariah, John (Yahya),
Mary, and Jesus,37 and f) a tract titled Feth-i medain ve ke§f-i menazil u meyadin,
which was inspired by one o f his dreams.38

When we compare these snippets o f biographical information with the facts that we
can ascertain about Hüdayî based on his certified writings and the entries about him in
the earliest biographical sources, a number o f incongruities become apparent. To begin
with, items 3 ,4 , and 9 above indicate that the author o f the Tezakir was a man with strong
connections to both Crimea and Rumelia, whereas no such strong connections can be
documented for Hüdayî.39 Secondly, neither Hüdayî nor any o f his contemporary and
near-contemporary biographers mentions his having attached him self to Nureddinzade
in any period o f his life.40 Even if we presumed, as have several modern scholars, that
Nureddinzade had been one o f several sheikhs with whom Hüdayî had associated prior to
his attachment to the Celveti sheikh Üftade, we could hardly explain how he could omit

33 Ibid., 167-168.
34 Ibid., 10.
35 Ibid.
36 Ibid., 130-131.
37 Ibid., 135.
38 Ibid., 62, 88, 100.
39 Hüdayî had spent the early years of his life in Koçhisar and Sivrihisar in Central Anatolia;
then as an aspiring scholar and junior member of the judiciary he had lived briefly in Edime
(H.978/1570-1571), Damascus, and Cairo, before moving to Bursa in H.981/1573, where he
attached himself to the Celveti master Üftade and devoted himself entirely to Sufism; and fi­
nally, as a Sufi sheikh in his own right, he had first spent a few years back in the region of his
birthplace as well as Bursa and then settled and spent the rest of his life in Üsküdar on the Asi­
an side of Istanbul.
40 Tezeren, SeyyidAzîz Mahmûd Hüdâyî, 1:19-21; and Yilmaz, Azîz Mahmûd Hüdâyî, 49-52. The
most reliable source of information about Hüdayî is, of course, his own writings, particularly
the diary that he kept in Arabic during the period of his spiritual training, Kalimât ‘an tibr al-
masbük al-mushtamilu ‘alâ mâ jarâ bayna hâdhâ al-fakïr wa hadrat al-shaykh f i athnd al-
sulük (Words of gold which were exchanged between this poor one and the venerable master
during initiation), also known as Wdki ‘at (Occurrences), and another autobiographical piece,
in Turkish, which brings together the dream visions that he had after the completion of his trai­
ning and which is known by the title Tecelliyât (Manifestations). Important complementary in­
formation on his life can be found in the biographical dictionaries of Atayî and Muhibbî as well
as in the commentary written by Abdulgani Nablusî on the Tecelliyât and in the Silsilename-i
Celveti by Ismail Hakki Bursevî. For a brief but nonetheless reliable piece that reconstructs
Hüdayî’s life on the basis of these sources and not the Tezakir, see I. Beldiceanu-Steinherr,
‘HüdàT, El2.
160 DERIN TERZÎOGLU

mention o f his final and beloved master and instead identify him self as the disciple of
Nureddinzade as late as 1592-1593. Likewise, there is no indication in any o f Hüdayî’s
own writings or in those o f his contemporary and near contemporary biographers that he
lived for any period in Babaeski, or that he was sheikh in the Küçük Ayasofya lodge in
Istanbul. N or do we find among his numerous works any tracts that bear a resemblance
to the texts the author o f the Tezakir mentions as his own.
By contrast, the autobiographical information provided in the letters matches remar­
kably well the information which we can gather about îbrahim-i K inm î from his own
writings as well as from several Ottoman and Tatar biographical and historical sources.41
The full name o f this Sufi was Sheikh Ibrahim b. Hak Muhammed el-Kirimî, but he was
also popularly known as the ‘Tatar Sheikh’. As his epithets indicate, Kinm î was a Tatar
by descent, and a Crimean by birth, though his father, Hak Muhammed Efendi, had origi­
nally come to Crimea from Desht-i Qipchak, namely the steppes north o f the Black Sea.42
Kinm î is presumed to have received his early education in Bahçesaray, where, according
to the Tatar historian Gulnara Abdullaeva, he also made the acquaintance o f the Crimean
Khan Devlet I Giray (r. 1555-1577).43
Eventually, however, Kinm î left Crimea for the lands o f Rum, where his path seems
to have crossed that o f the ‘Sunnitising’ Sufis o f Rumelia. Both the Ottoman and Tatar
sources report that once in Istanbul, K inm î attached him self to the Halveti master Mus-
lihuddin Nureddinzade at the lodge o f Küçük Ayasofya, who, it will be remembered, is
none other than the master mentioned in the letters. In his Mawâhib al-rahmân f i bayân
marâtib al-akwân (The Gifts o f the Merciful in the Exposition o f the Cosmic Hierarchy),
Kinm î further relates that he also spent some time in Sofia, where he stayed in the lodge
o f his m aster’s master, Sofyali Bâlî (d. 1552).44
The eighteenth-century Tatar historian Seyyid Mehmed Riza reports that after a while
Kinm î returned to Crimea, where he stayed until certain unjust and unlawful incidents
that he witnessed led him to return to the lands o f Rum.45 Yakubovych dates K inm î’s
second sojourn in Crimea to between the death o f his master Nureddinzade in 1573 and

41 The earliest Ottoman biographical sources are Atayî, Hadâi’ku’l-Hakâi’k f i Tekmïletü’ç-

§akâ ’ik in A. Ôzcan (ed.), §akaik-i Nu 'maniye ve Zeyilleri, 5 vols. (Istanbul 1980), 111:370, and
Belgradî, Silsiletü’l-mukarrebm ve menâkibu’l-muttekm, SK., MS. Esad Ef. 105a-105b; for the
modem Turkish transcription, see T. Bitiçi, ‘Münîri-i Belgrâdi ve Silsiletü’l-mukarrebm adh
eseri’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Marmara University, 2001, 188. Some information on Kinmî
can also be found in Bursali Mehmet Tahir, Osmanh müellifleri, 3 vols. (Istanbul 1975), 1:118.
The earliest Tatar history to mention Kinmî, Seyyid Mehmed Riza’s (d. 1755/56) Es-seb’ü ’s-
seyyarfl ahbar-i mülûk-i Tatar) (Kazan 1832), was actually written considerably later, in the
early eighteenth century; nevertheless, this text makes use of some earlier written and oral sour­
ces, and is generally considered the most important Tatar source on the history of the Khanate.
42 Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb ’ü ’s-seyyar, 152.
43 Gulnara Abdullaeva, Zolotaya epoha Krymskogo hanstva (Simferopol 2012), 143-148, cited in
Yakubovych, ‘ANeglected Ottoman Sufi Treatise’, 140-141.
44 Kinmî, Mawâhib al-rahmân f ï bayân marâtib al-akwân, cited in Yakubovych, ‘A Neglected
Ottoman Sufi Treatise’, 142.
45 Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb 'ü ’s-seyyar, 153
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 161

the death o f his patron Devlet Giray in 1577.46 If Yakubovych’s reconstruction of this
period o f K irim fs life is correct, it might have been in this period that the Sufi sheikh de­
veloped an attachment to Âdil Giray, who was one o f the eight sons o f Devlet Giray and
who became kalga (the second highest rank after the khan) after the latter’s death. While
neither the Ottoman nor the Tatar sources mention K inm î’s link with Âdil Giray speci­
fically, a particularly important Ottoman writer, Münirî-i Belgradî, who was a disciple
o f Nureddinzade and a contemporary o f Kirimî’s, confirms that the Crimean Sufi spent
some time in Babaeski, where, it will be remembered, the author o f the Tezakir mentions
having been when he learned o f the news o f Âdil G iray’s death. Since Babaeski was a
region with a significant Crimean Tatar presence since at least the late fifteenth century, it
is quite likely that it was once again his Crimean connections that had led Kirimî there.47
Interestingly, the Tatar historian Seyyid Mehmed Riza also mentions K inm î’s sojourn in
“the mountain o f Baba”, which he attributes to the latter’s divine mission to fight against
heresy and rebellion.48
However long he stayed in Babaeski, Kirim! also seems to have had a foot in Istanbul
between the years 1577 and 1580. In an autobiographical passage o f the Mawâhib, he
writes that he was already in Istanbul at the beginning o f H.985/1577, the same year that
is identified in the Tezakir as the date o f his first visit to the capital during the reign of
Murad III. From the same text we learn that while in Istanbul, the Sufi sheikh stayed in
the lodge o f Koca Mustafa Pasha, where he may have briefly attached him self to the post-
niçin and Halveti sheikh Yusuf Sinaneddin (d. 1581), to whom he refers as “my master”
(§eyhina). Since Sheikh Yusuf actually left Istanbul as Çeyhü ’l-harem in the same year,
however, K inm î’s discipleship to the latter must have been o f short duration; in any case,
he does not refer to it in his other writings.49
As we have seen above, the author o f the Tezakir dated his second and final trip to
Istanbul to 1583, adding that it was five months after his second arrival in the city that
his highly-placed patrons arranged for him to be appointed sheikh at the lodge o f Küçük
Ayasofya. That Kirimî eventually settled in Istanbul and served as sheikh at the lodge of
Küçük Ayasofya is also corroborated by both the Ottoman and Tatar sources. This was,
o f course, the lodge where K inm î’s one-time master Nureddinzade had once been sheikh.
Upon Nureddinzade’s death, the office had fallen to his eldest son, Sheikh Mahmud, who
had in turn died in 1583, clearing the way for Kirimî.50 The biographical sources confirm
that in addition to serving as postni.pn at the Küçük Ayasofya lodge, Kirimî also began to

46 Yakubovych, ‘ANeglected Ottoman Sufi Treatise’, 142.

47 On the settlement of Crimean Tatars in general and some members of the Giray family in par­
ticular in Babaeski, see H. Kinmli, Tiirkiye ’deki Kirim Tatar ve Nogay kôy yerleçimleri (Istan­
bul 2012), 8-9.
48 Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb ’il ’s-seyyar, 153.
49 For a discussion of the passage, see Yakubovych, ‘A Neglected Ottoman Sufi Treatise’, 155.
It seems that a slightly different version of the same passage circulated as a free-standing text,
and it is from this version that the reference to Yusuf Sinaneddin is taken. See Kirimî, [Kizil-
baçlik hakkmda risale], SK, H. Hüsnü Paça 132a-133b.
50 For information on Sheikh Mahmud, see Bitiçi, ‘Münîri-i Belgrâdi’, 188, and BOA, Mühimme
162 DERIN TERZÎOGLU

double as a mosque preacher. He seems to have served first in more minor mosques like
the Cerrah Mosque, but eventually made his way to the prestigious Fatih Mosque, where
the author o f Tezakir also mentions having preached.51
At least one early Ottoman source, Belgradî, mentions that the Crimean Sufi became
sheikh and advisor to Murad III at this period.52 Corroborating evidence comes from
another piece by Kinm î, a short text that he seems to have composed to preface the let­
ters that he had received from Sultan Murad, but which are missing from the only known
manuscript copy. In this text, Kirimi writes that he became Murad’s sheikh only after the
latter’s first master Sheikh Stic a died in H.996/1587-1588. He also claims to have been
completely taken by surprise when the Sultan invited him to become his “companion”.53
However, we need not take him at his word on this matter. In all likelihood, he wanted
to represent the beginning o f his attachment to Murad III in a manner that would fit the
time-honoured ethos o f the ideal man o f religion, who would be courted by, rather than
court the company of, Sultans. In fact, judging by the datable letters in the Tezakir, he was
already addressing letters to Murad III a decade earlier, during his first stay in Istanbul.54
However, these letters are relatively few in number, and there is a long hiatus between
them and the next and much larger corpus o f letters, dating from circa 1590 and 1593.
This suggests that even if Kirimi started to seek the audience o f Murad III from the time
o f his first visit to Istanbul in the late 1570s, it was only after the death o f §iica that the
Sultan returned the attention that Kirimi had been lavishing on him, and chose the Cri­
mean Sufi as his master.
It is clear that Kirimi had become a political player o f considerable significance du­
ring the early 1590s. This was a particularly turbulent period, characterised by monetary
instability and military rebellions, and it was also a military revolt that tested K inm i’s
skills as a power-broker. The military revolt in question broke out on 23 RebiiiT-ahir
1001/27 January 1593, when members o f the imperial cavalry, in protest at being paid
in defective coins, demanded the heads o f the Grand Vizier Siyavus Pasha, the Treasurer
Emir Efendi, and the Imperial Stewardess (Kethüda Kadrn). Kirimi and another Hal­
ved sheikh and preacher, Emir Efendi, rushed to the scene with Q ur’ans in their hands
and pleaded with the rebellious soldiers to give up their demands. The angry soldiers,
however, were clearly not at all impressed with these appeals to the Q ur’an and Islam,
and mocked the sheikhs, saying that they (the soldiers) had become infidels and were

Defteri 25, entry no. 2024, dated 3 Ramazan H.982/1574. This seems to have been the year that
Sheikh Mahmud replaced his father as sheikh at Küçük Ayasofya.
51 For references to his appointments as preacher, see Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb’ii’s-seyyar,
154 and Bursah, Osmanli müellifleri, 1:118; for the relevant passage in the Tezakir, see fn. 29.
52 Bitiçi, ‘Münîri-i Belgrâdi’, 188. Note that the Tatar historian Seyyid Mehmed Riza also stres­
ses Murad Ill’s strong love for and faith in Kirimi when describing the appointment of his son
Afifiiddin as miiderris to a Dahil medrese (Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb’ii’s-seyyar, 154-155).
53 Kinmî, [Sultan Murad’a dair bir risale], SK, H. Htisnii Paja 763/19, 103b-llib. The specific
reference is from folios 103b-104a.
54 See, for instance, Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 92, 162; and Kinmî, [Kizilba^hk hakkmda risa­
le], SK, H. Hüsnü Pa?a 763/23, 132a-133b.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 163

not even beyond slaying Hasan and Htiseyin, if it came to that. In the end, it was only a
bloody counter-attack by the imperial gatekeepers which prevented the cavalrymen from
entering the Imperial Harem and from taking the lives o f the targeted officials with their
own hands.55
Even though Kirimî was not able to prevail upon the rebellious cavalry on this oc­
casion, his efforts in this direction did not damage his standing at the Ottoman court,
and possibly even enhanced his reputation as a loyal servant o f the Ottoman house, for
when he died a few months later, on 13 Cumadelûlâ 1001/15 February 1593 according
to Selanikî, or in the month o f §evval/July according to Atayî, his funeral was held at
the Fatih Mosque and was attended by “all men o f the state, viziers and ulema dignitari­
es”. Selanikî, in his obituary, memorialised the sheikh as “the elect o f the ulema and the
sheikhs” (muhtarü’l-ulema ve’l-me$ayih) as well as “the ascetic o f the age, a singular
worshipper, a teller o f truths and preacher to the people” (zâhid-i zemane, âbid-i yegâne,
natik-i hakaik, vaiz-i halaik).56
This, then, sums up the story o f K irim î’s life, which as we have seen, matches remar­
kably well with the biographical information provided in the Tezakir. There is also a sig­
nificant degree o f matching between the certified works o f Kirimî and the texts that the
author of the Tezakir mentions as his own. At least four texts mentioned in the Tezakir can
be identified as K inm î’s. They are: 1) Risâla f i bayân asrâr asâ Müsàwayadd al-baydâ
[Treatise explicating the secrets o f the staff o f Moses and the white hand];57 2) Kitâbfath
marâtib al-kulûb wa kashfmanâzil ‘izzat al-guyüb [Book on the conquest o f the degrees
o f the heart and the discovery o f the way-stations o f the glory o f the unknown], which
appears in the Tezakir under the slightly abbreviated title Merâtib-i kulûb ve menâzil-i
izzetii ’l-guyûb;58 3) Madârij al-malik al-mannân f i bayân ma ‘ârij al-insân [The paths
o f the beneficent ruler in explication o f the stages o f ascent o f the human], which was
originally written as a work that associates the seven stages or circles o f the soul (el-
devâ ’ir el-seb ‘a, or el-epâr el-seb ‘a) with the seven climes, and 4) Mawâhib al-rahmàn
f i bayân marâtib al-akwân, which was originally written as a work that discusses the five
stages o f descent (niizul) as part o f the 12 stages o f the cycle o f existence. Later, however,
Kirimî combined these last two pieces in a single work which discusses the 12 stages of
the cycle o f existence in connection with the 12 regions o f the world. The longer work,
dealing with all 12 stages, can be found listed under either title in various manuscript
collections o f Turkey. Both works are described in the Tezakir, albeit without mention
o f the title, as a work on the 12 modes o f spirituality that are prevalent in the 12 regions
o f the world. The dates o f composition given in the letters are also identical with those

55 Selanikî, Tarih-i Selânikî (H.971-1003/1563-1595), ed. M. Ipçirli, 2 vols., Vol. 1 (Ankara 1999
[2nd ed.]), 302.
56 Ibid., 306-7 and Atayî, Hadâi ’k, 370. In contrast to Selanikî and Atayî, Belgradî erroneously
gives H.999/1590 as the date of Kinmî’s death. See Bitiçi, ‘Münîri-i Belgrâdi’, 188.
57 Kinmî, Risâla fi bayân asrâr 'asâ Müsâ wa yadd al-baydâ, SK, Laleli 1512/5, 46b-51a.
58 Kinmî, Kitâb fath marâtib al-kulûb wa kashf manâzil ‘izzat al-guyüb, SK, H. Hüsnü Paça
763/5, 43b-49a; Carullah 2079/11, 68-82.
 164 DERIN TERZIOGLU

mentioned in the preface o f the actual work: accordingly, Kirimî started writing this text
in H.991/1583-4 and completed it in Çaban H.998/June-July 1590.59 In addition to these,
Kirimî also authored many short treatises on the esoteric meaning o f various verses o f the
Q ur’an, and further examination o f these texts, which are often untitled, might enable us
to match them with the untitled exegetical pieces referenced in the Tezakir.
In the light o f all the evidence presented above, we can now safely conclude that the
letters wrongly attributed to Aziz Mahmud Hüdayî were, possibly with a single excepti­
on (the letter addressed to Selim II), authored by îbrahim-i Kirimî. This discussion has
also revealed several facets o f K inm î’s background, which will be o f central importance
to us when we examine his political entanglements. These include his life-long links to
Crimea and its political elites, his membership o f a circle o f Rumelian Sufis known for
their strong advocacy o f Sunni Islam, and the close relationship he cultivated with the
Ottoman Sultan Murad III, as well as various other figures in his court. In the next two
sections, we shall see how Kirimî negotiated these three dimensions and reconciled the
contradictory demands they made upon him when he sought to comment on and steer the
direction o f Ottoman politics.

Sufi as courtier: negotiating power and patronage at the Ottoman court

As is well known, politics, even high politics, in the late sixteenth-century Ottoman Em­
pire was not restricted only to the Ottoman Sultan and members o f the Imperial Council.
Some o f the ulema dignitaries, Sufi sheikhs and preachers, royal women, and even some
wealthy Jewish and Christian merchants and bankers with court connections could also
have a say in it. At the same time, o f course, there were unwritten rules o f protocol that
governed who could say what, when, and in what ways. We primarily learn o f these
unwritten rules o f protocol when they became the subject o f debate. In the late sixteenth
century, members o f the scribal service and military administration frequently expressed
exasperation at mosque preachers, because they thought that the latter were exceeding
their formal duties by discoursing on state matters. Critics like the bureaucrat and man
o f letters M ustafa Âli (d. 1600) argued that the duty o f preachers was simply to recite
and expound the Q ur’an and hadiths, and not to opine about matters about which they
had little experience and knowledge. To Âli, preachers who “interferefd] in the business
o f state and (...) compete[d] at arrows with vezirs and sancak beyis” represented “the
height o f impertinence”.60 It was considered less objectionable if a preacher informed a

59 For copies of manuscripts, listed under the title MadSrij al-malik al-mannân f î bayân ma ‘ârij
al-insân, see SK, Bagdath Vehbi 699/1, lb-195a; Reisülküttab 1135 (copied in H.1088/1677);
Musalla Medrese 120; for works listed under the title Mawâhib al-rahmânfï bayân marâtib
al-akwân, see Kastamonu il Halk Ktp. MS. 3649. For a recent study of the longer work, based
on Kastamonu il Halk Ktp. MS. 3649, see Yakubovych, ‘ANeglected Ottoman Sufi Treatise’,
137-160. More research is needed to reconstruct the short and early versions of the text and to
establish the relationship between the extant manuscripts. For the passage in the Tezakir, see
fn. 32.
60 Mustafa Âli, The Ottoman Gentleman o f the Sixteenth Century: Mustafa Âli s Mevâ ’idii ’n-
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 165

grandee o f his views on politics in private, but even in this case, a considerable degree
o f delicacy was expected. In a telhis to Murad III, the Grand Vizier Koca Sinan Pasha
complained extensively about the above-mentioned Halveti master and preacher, Emir
Efendi, because the latter was constantly commenting on state affairs and statesmen in
his sermons, writing letter upon letter to Murad III and giving him political advice, and
as if all this was not enough, he was adding insult to injury by reading the Sultan’s letters
to others to show off.61
This raises the question o f how K inm î him self managed to write so many letters of
advice to Murad III, and to guide and steer him on not just religious but also political
matters. It is easiest to account for the letter-writing. Writing was the primary medium
o f communication between Murad and the outside world, because he had taken the Ot­
toman custom o f royal seclusion to a new high, and was spending nearly all his time in
the inner sanctuary o f his palace, refusing to go on campaigns, and towards the end of
his reign, even failing to present him self to the public for the Friday prayers, as custom
dictated.62 Clearly, however, Murad still wished to be in touch with the outside world,
and being fond o f reading and writing, he had very much taken to corresponding on a
regular basis with his Grand Vizier, as well as with his favorite Sufis.63 It is clear that the
correspondence between Kirimî and the Sultan was not one-sided; the Sultan was also
writing to Kirimî.64
It probably helped, too, that K inm î wrote to Murad not just as any ordinary Sufi or
preacher, but as his personal sheikh. However, it was no light matter to act as spiritual
guide to a monarch who was said to be the shadow o f God on earth, and who very much
aspired to be Sultan of both this world and the next. This must be why in the preface he
wrote to the (now missing) letters o f Murad, K inm î cleverly chose to represent the Sultan
as an active seeker o f his own gnosis rather than an ordinary disciple who is required to
submit his will to that o f his master. As K inm î put it, Murad had recognised “out o f the
perfection o f his sagacity and intelligence” the meaninglessness o f this lowly world and
re-orientated him self towards the higher realms. In his great wisdom, he had also unders­

nefâ ’isf ï kavâ ’idi ’l-mecâlis, ‘Tables o f Delicacies Concerning the Rules o f Social Gatherings ’,
annotated English translation by D. S. Brookes (Cambridge MA 2003), 172-173.
61 H. Sahillioglu (ed.), Koca Sinan Pa$a ’nin telhisleri (Istanbul 2004), 69-71.
62 On the formulation of the Ottoman custom of royal seclusion, see G. Necipoglu, Architecture,
Ceremonial and Power: The Topkapi Palace in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries (Camb­
ridge MA and London 1991 ), 15-30, see esp. 25-26 for remarks on developments in the reign of
Murad; for a different appraisal of Ottoman royal ceremonial, which emphasises royal presen­
ce over royal seclusion, even while noting the reclusive habits of Murad III, see E. Boyar and
K. Fleet, A Social History o f Ottoman Istanbul (Cambridge 2010), 28-41; esp. 31-32, 37-38.
63 On the institutionalisation of te/fes-writing, see P. Fodor, ‘The Grand Vizierial Telhis\ ArchOtt,
15 (1997), 137-188; S. Faroqhi, ‘Das Grosswesir-te/fe: eine aktenkundliche Studie’, Der Is­
lam, 45 (1969), 96-110; C. Orhonlu, Osmanli tarihine âid belgeler: telhîsler (1597-1607) (Is­
tanbul 1970).
64 In one letter, Kinmî wrote that he sometimes had misgivings about sending the Sultan so many
letters, only to add immediately afterwards that he also feared that neglecting to write back to
the Sultan would also be insolent. Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 114-115.
166 DERIN TERZIOGLU

tood that spiritual perfection can be attained only through attachment to a “master o f tra­
ining” (mür$id-i irçad), and he had consequently entered into an intimate companionship
(,musahabet ve mukarenet) first with Sheikh Siica, and later with Kirimî.65
The concept o f ‘companionship’ evoked by Kirimî had both religious and political
connotations. On the one hand, musahabet was a close cognate o f sohbet, which in the
technical sense o f companionship and conversation with an authorised master was seen
by many Sufis as a valuable tool in attaining spiritual insight.66 On the other hand, musa-
hib, derived from the same triliteral Arabic root s-h-b, denoted a ‘royal companion’ or
‘favourite’. Even though Ottomanists have until now discussed under this rubric mainly
musahib-\iziers or musahib-aghas, it could be argued that in the reign o f Murad III, a
number o f Sufis who became sheikhs to the Sultan, most notably §tica and Kirimî, also fit
the bill as “ ‘creatures’ o f the Sultan, empowered to act as his power-brokers”.67
The ambiguity o f Kirimî’s position as sheikh and ‘creature’ o f the Sultan is in full
evidence in his letters. On the one hand, the Sufi sheikh assumed the voice o f a humb­
le subject when he referred to the Sultan as the “shadow o f God on earth”, “Caliph of
God”, and “Caliph o f the Messenger o f God”, as well as “renewer o f faith” (miiceddid-i
iman) o f both the new century and the new millennium.68 He also described meeting the
Sultan, when he (Kirimî) was with the Grand Vizier in the palace, as a rare incident that
threw him o ff base and transported him to a different state almost like experiencing an
intimation o f the divine.69 On the other hand, Kirimî also guided the Sultan, as a master
would guide an initiate on the Sufi path. When, for instance, Murad chided Kirimî for not
showing him the essence o f divine reality and for making him suffer as a result, the Sufi
sheikh politely explained that God hides him self from the ignorant but reveals him self in
signs and allusions to the gnostic. Hence the Sultan should know that it is on account o f
his gnosis that God has been shown to him in this manner.70 On another such occasion,
the Sufi master uncharacteristically allowed him self to address the Sultan in the second
person singular, saying “Your passion (içtiyak) for the divine exceeds all bounds; it is
too much. I have seen so many seekers, adepts, and visionaries in my life but have found
none to surpass my Padishah in his yearning (hirs) and passion for divine gnosis”.71
Perhaps because Murad considered him self an already ‘arrived’ Sufi by the 1590s, he
no longer reported his dreams and asked for their interpretation, as he had done earlier
with Sheikh Siica. Rather, it was Kirimî him self who related his dreams to the Sultan
and who then provided his own interpretations o f them. In most cases, the reported dre-

65 Kirimî, [Sultan Murad’adair bir risale], SK, H. Hüsnü Paça 62, 103b-llib. The specific refe­
rence is from folios 103b-104a.
66 TDV1A, s.v. ‘Sohbet’ (Siileyman Uludag).
67 Bôrekçi, ‘Factions and Favorites’, 17, 151-152; also see E. Turan, ‘The Sultan’s Favorite:
Ibrahim Pasha and the Making of the Universal Sovereignty in the Reign of Sultan Siileyman
(1516-1526)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 2007.
68 See, for instance, Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 7, 15-16.
69 Ibid., 98.
70 Ibid., 134
71 Ibid., 133.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 167

ams were about the Sultan. Considering how rarely K inm î and Murad met in real life,
it is tempting to think that the Sufi sheikh relied on these dreams to compensate for the
absence o f physical contact with the Sultan. At the same time, however, the Sufi sheikh
often used his dreams as a pretext to advise Murad about political matters.72 In several
instances, Kirimî also justified his advice-giving as an integral part o f his duties as a man
o f religion, citing the hadith ‘Religion is counsel’ (El-din el-nasïha).73 Interestingly, the
word me§veret, or ‘consultation’, never surfaces in the letters, even though it was also
part o f the juridical language o f Islamic rulership and would have been well known to
Kinm î as a learned sheikh with the equivalent o f a madrasa education.74 Perhaps the Sufi
master avoided the latter concept because it implied an obligation on the Sultan’s part,
and by extension, a limitation o f the latter’s power.
Yet it would be wrong to read K m m î’s letters as if they were presenting a program­
matic case for Ottoman ‘absolutism’, not only because there was no one else in sight
making a contrary argument, but also because K inm î’s primary reader was the Sultan,
who did not need to be convinced o f his great power. It seems that in many cases Kinmî
evoked the Sultan’s power and used sacralising language to do so also because he wished
him to realise that this great power brought responsibilities. In one letter, the Sufi writer
assured his royal reader that he (Murad) possesses greater political power (devlet ve kuv-
vet) than all the Sultans before him, but he should, for this reason, be all the more vigilant
to maintain it.75 In other letters, K inm î evoked the quasi-sacral nature of the royal office
to get Murad to forgive the trespasses o f various high-ranking officials, arguing that for­
giveness and mercy are divine qualities.76
In one letter, K m m î also reminded Murad that his power ultimately depends on the
“soldiers o f Islam and the reaya", and that he should show “mercy and affection” (mer-
hamet ve çefkat) to the reaya, and “respect and service” (riayet ve hizmet) to the soldiers
o f Islam.77 That royal power depended on the prosperity o f the reaya and the strength of
the army was a point that was often made in the political literature o f the time, and often
a connection was made between all three through the metaphor o f the circle o f justice,
which, in the most common version, went something like this: “No power without troops
- No troops without money - No money without prosperity - No prosperity without
justice and good administration”.78 Interestingly, however, K m m î chose not to mention
the treasury in this connection, and in fact hardly ever alludes to fiscal and monetary

72 See, for instance, ibid., 6, 28-30, 56, 83-84, 84-85, 88-89, 92, 125-126, 132.
73 Ibid., 7, 145; Buhari, iman, 42; Miislim, iman, 95.
74 On meijveret in sixteenth-century Ottoman political thought, see H. Yilmaz, ‘Osmanli devleti’nde
batililaçma ôncesi meçrutiyetçi geliçmeler’, Dîvân: Disiplinlerarasi Çaliçmalar Dergisi 13, 24
(2008), 1-30; M. Sariyannis, ‘Ottoman Ideas on Monarchy Before the Tanzimat Reforms: To­
ward a Conceptual History of Ottoman Political Notions’, Turcica, 47 (2016), 33-72.
75 Güven, ‘Çeçitlï yônleriyle’, 53.
76 Ibid., 15, 16.
77 Ibid., 127.
78 L. T. Darling, A History o f Social Justice and Political Power in the Middle East: The Circle of
Justice from Mesopotamia to Globalization (Abingdon 2013), 2, 127-148.
 168 DERIN TERZIOGLU

matters in his letters. This omission is striking, because fiscally-motivated monetary de­
basements were the primary cause o f grievance o f the discontented kul soldiers in this
period, including in the incident in which Kirimî himself had played the role o f mediator
between the palace and the imperial cavalry on 27 January 1593.79
Unfortunately, we do not know in which context Kirimî made the above-mentioned
remark about the need to respect and serve the soldiers, but the overall analysis o f his
letters indicates that he was much more likely to speak on behalf o f specific high-ranking
officials than for larger entities like “the reaya” or even the “soldiers”. He was, in this
regard, very much a man o f the Ottoman court, concerned first and foremost with the
power games in this ultimately rather constricted, privileged environment.
The late sixteenth century was a time when factional struggles were particularly in­
tense at the Ottoman court. The personal and factional rivalries that divided it are, howe­
ver, barely visible in K inm î’s letters. Perhaps the Sufi sheikh thought it best for a man of
religion to position him self above the worldly squabbles for power. Perhaps, too, he was
extra cautious because his letters could have been read by any one o f the officials who
conveyed them to the Sultan, or because the Sultan him self could have the letters read
in the presence o f others. Either way, in most cases, the Sufi sheikh prudently limited his
criticisms to unnamed “scoundrels” (erazll), and when he named specific officials to the
Sultan, it was almost always to praise them, and not to criticise. A rare exception to this
rule would be his remarks about the “accursed Takiyiiddin”, but in this case, too, Kirimî
was actually playing it safe, since the controversial astronomer had already been banis­
hed at the time o f writing. Kirimî was also obviously jealous when he learnt that Davud
Efendi from the zaviye o f Ali Pasha had been invited to the palace. However, rather than
malign his rival, he simply made it clear to Murad that there was nothing special about
this man, who was just one o f the Sultan’s many well-wishers.80
At the same time, however, as the Sultan’s sheikh and companion, Kirimî also did
what any self-respecting courtier would do: namely, he used his proximity to Murad to
procure benefits for him self and others. It was presumably for his own benefit that he
asked Murad to convert the Arslanhane (literally, Lion’s Den) into a Sufi lodge, or that
failing, to allow the kapu agasi to do the same instead.81 The said building had originally
been a Byzantine church, before its basement was converted by Mehmed II into a royal
menagerie in the late fifteeenth century, and in the sixteenth century, its upper floor ser­
ved as the workshop o f court artisans (Nakkaçhane). Presumably, Kirimî wished to move
to the Arslanhane, because it was in very close proximity to the Topkapi Palace, and
would have facilitated his access to the court even further.82

79 C. Kafadar, ‘Les troubles monétaires de la fin du XVIe siècle et la prise de la conscience otto­
mane du déclin’, Annales. Economies, Sociétés et Civilisations, 46 (1991), 381-400; Ç. Pamuk,
A Monetary History o f the Ottoman Empire (Cambridge 2000), 131-148.
80 Güven, ‘Çeçitli Ydnleriyle’, 120-121, 136.
81 Ibid., 87-88, 167-168.
82 On the royal menagerie, see Necipoglu, Architecture, Ceremonial and Power, 46, 48, and Ç.
Kafesçioglu, Constantinopolis/Istanbul: Cultural Encounter, Imperial Vision, and the Cons­
truction o f the Ottoman Capital (University Park 2009), 204, 263.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONAUSM 169

When Kirimî intervened on behalf o f others, he typically stressed his indebtedness

to them. Significantly, the people on whose behalf Kirimî interceded came from several
different branches and ranks o f the imperial administration. Among the men o f religion,
he put in a good word not only for fellow Sufis like Medeni Sheikh Ahmed, Sheikh Meh-
med Efendi o f the §abani branch o f the Halved order, and a certain “holy fool” ( meczub)
from Kastamonu, but also for top-ranking ulema like the royal tutor Hoca Sadeddin, the
yeyhiili,slams Bostanzade Mehmed, and Bayramzade Zekeriyya, and the kadiasker of
Rumelia, Dügmecizade.83845Kirimî also hastened to the defence o f the kadis who had an­
gered Murad III and the Grand Vizier Koca Sinan Pasha, when a large group o f them had
convened at the Fatih Mosque to protest against the dismissal o f the kadi of Samakov.
Since Kirimî him self was a preacher at the same mosque, he might also have been invol­
ved in the incident, but writing one month after the event, he clearly found it in his power
to plead with the Sultan to forgive the errant kadis. He argued that the latter had already
apologised for their “disobedience” ( tugyan) and that “they, being members o f the ulema
should not be treated like other people” {ulema ziimresindendir; saire kiyas olunmaya).SA
In addition to men o f religion like himself, Kirimî also lent his support to various
members o f the palace corps and military administrators o f kul background. In connec­
tion with the ulema protest over the dismissal o f the kadi o f Samakov, for instance, he
asked Murad to forgive “the fault, if there is any” o f a certain Hiiseyin Aga, who “was
formerly master o f the stables {mirahur) and who now serves as kapiciba§fP He also
closely followed the career tracks o f his patrons and clients among the palace-reared kul
administrators. He congratulated Murad for appointing a certain Htiseyin Beg as the Go­
vernor o f Jerusalem, while he recommended his benefactor Hâfiz [Hadim] Ahmed Pasha
for the lucrative governor-generalship o f Egypt. K m m î’s wish was granted, and Ahmed
Pasha was appointed Governor-General o f Egypt in H.999/1590-1591.86
Perhaps the most interesting person the Crimean Sufi recommended to Murad from
within the palace was, however, the Haseki Sultan Safiye. In a long and elaborate letter,
interwoven with mystical themes, Kirimî praised Safiye Sultan as Murad’s “loyal servitor
o f many years” (kadim emekdarimz), and he urged the Sultan to reward her services by
manumitting and then marrying her. He argued that such an act would also be good for
the Sultan’s own spiritual progress.87 It might be worth pointing out that Kirimî could
give this kind o f advice not only because he was the Sultan’s sheikh, but also because
sex and marriage in the royal household were very much regarded as “state affairs” and
thus open to some degree o f public scrutiny and comment. As for the content o f K inm î’s

83 Ibid., 16-19, 102-103, 120, 165.

84 Ibid., 15-16. It is worth noting that in the letter that immediately precedes the one written on
behalf ofthe kadis (Ibid., 14-15), Kmmî himself submits his apologies for an unspecified mis­
demeanour. On the protest by the ulema and the responses to it by the Sultan and the Grand
Vizier, see TDVÎA, s.v. ‘Zekeriyya Efendi, Bayramzade’ (M. ipçirli); Sahillioglu (ed.), Koca
Sinan Paqa'mn telhisleri, 27-28.
85 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 55.
86 Ibid., 150-151; Selaniki, Tarih, 242, 335.
87 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 125-126.
 170 DER1N TERZIOGLU

advice, it went against the royal tradition that maintained that Ottoman Sultans were not
supposed to marry, but to enjoy sexual relations with and reproduce through their female
slaves; however, it was not entirely unprecedented either. Murad’s grandfather Siileyman
had broken with the existing norms by manumitting and marrying his favorite consort,
Hiirrem, circa 1534. There is some evidence that this unprecedented action created scope
for similar action, even if it did not completely overturn the existing norms. The Venetian
ambassador Jacobo Ragazzoni claimed that Suleyman’s son and successor, Selim, had
also manumitted and married his royal consort, Nurbanu; however, this marriage is not
reported in any o f the Ottoman sources. In M urad’s case, only one Ottoman writer, Mus­
tafa Ali, and no European contemporary, reported his having manumitted and married
Safiye. Ultimately, we do not know whether Murad heeded Kirimî’s advice and followed
the example o f his father and grandfather, but if he did so, he, too, seems to have been
discreet about it like his father.8889
In addition, Kirimi mentioned in his letters a variety o f high-ranking officials in a
highly complimentary manner, though without necessarily asking for a favour for them.
One o f the officials he praised in this manner was the Venetian-born Gazanfer Aga (d.
1603), who was one o f the most powerful officials at the time as the holder o f two major
offices within the palace, that o f Agha o f the Porte (Kapu agasi, Babiissaade agasi) and
Head o f the Privy Chamber (Hasodaba§i).%9 Another official o f whom Kirimi spoke with
praise was the Grand Admiral Cigalazade Yusuf Sinan Pasha (d. 1606), who had been
a member o f the aristocratic Genoese family o f Cicala, before being taken captive by
Ottoman corsairs, and entering Ottoman imperial service.90 Significantly, both o f these
men were part o f the same court faction as Safiye Sultan and Hoca Sadeddin, which was
in fact the most powerful court faction at the time.
That Kirimi, too, participated in Ottoman court politics thanks in part to his links with
this powerful faction seems clear. In fact, the Sufi sheikh seems to have shown a remar­
kable propensity to work with whoever was in a position o f ascendancy in this period. A
case in point would be his relations with Koca Sinan Pasha, a powerful official who was
appointed to and dismissed from the office o f Grand Vizier a total o f five times in the late
sixteenth century (three o f them in K inm i’s lifetime). It seems that particularly during
Sinan Pasha’s second term as grand vizier, K inm î went out o f his way to express support
for the Grand Vizier. He specifically praised Sinan Pasha’s aborted plan to connect the

88 For a discussion of the actual and/or imputed marriages between Siileyman and Hiirrem, Selim
and Nurbanu, and Murad and Safiye on the basis of Ottoman and Venetian sources, see L. P.
Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire (New York and
Oxford 1993), 58-63, 92-95.
89 Giiven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 87-88, 150-151. On Gazanfer Aga, see E. R. Dursteler, Venetians
in Constantinople: Nation, Identity, and Coexistence in the Early Modern Mediterranean (Bal­
timore 2006), 119-123; Bôrekçi, ‘Factions and Favorites’, 49-50; A. E. Dikici, ‘The Making of
Ottoman Court Eunuchs: Origins, Recruitment Paths, Family Ties and ‘Domestic Production”,
ArchOtt, 30(2013), 105-136.
90 Giiven, ‘Çeçitli Yônleriyle’, 96. On Cigalazade Yusuf Sinan Pasha, see EE, s.v. ‘Cigâlâ-zâde
Yüsuf Sinân Pasha’ (V. J. Parry); Dursteler, 122-123.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 171

Black Sea with the G ulf o f izm it via the Sakarya river in order to bring wood to Istanbul,
and he compared this project to the restoration o f Istanbul’s water supply system during
the reign o f Süleyman I. He even related having had a dream in which the Grand Vizier
was building “a grand bridge” over the Bosporus.91 Despite these words o f praise, howe­
ver, the Crimean sheikh did not always see eye-to-eye with the Grand Vizier. As we shall
see in the next section, Sinan Pasha favoured peaceful relations with Poland-Lithuania,
while Kirimî preferred all-out war, or at least an extension o f the diplomatic bickering.
Sinan Pasha wanted to punish the top ranks o f the ulema for their role in the protests
at the sacking o f the kadi o f Samakov, while Kirimi wished them to be forgiven. Sinan
Pasha was engaged in a bitter feud with Ferhad Pasha, whereas the latter was a long-time
associate o f Kirimi. Significantly, however, even as Kirimi let his views be known on
some o f these matters, he was careful not to directly target the Grand Vizier.92
Political prudence was probably also the reason why Kinm î made so few references
to the Crimean ruling elites in his letters to Murad III. Even though the Crimean Khanate
was a vassal state o f the Ottoman Empire, it nevertheless enjoyed a great deal o f auto­
nomy, and K inm î might have found it impolitic as a Crimean at the Ottoman court to pro­
fess his attachment to members o f another, albeit vassal, dynasty.93 Quite appropriately,
the only Crimean royal whom K inm î mentioned by name to Murad was one who was
safely dead: namely, the kalga Âdil Giray, who had been killed by the Safavids while in
captivity in Iran.94 From the way K inm î describes his grief upon learning o f Âdil Giray’s
death, it would seem that he was quite close to the kalga.
It is not clear how K m m î comported him self when relations between the Ottomans
and the Crimean Khan M ehmed Giray soured shortly after the kalga’s death, and when
Mehmed Giray was forcibly replaced with Islam II Giray in 1584. However, considering

91 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 84-85, 162. Judging by the references in them, the first of these
letters was written during the second grand vizierate of Sinan Pasha ( 1589-1591), while the se­
cond was written at the beginning of his first tenure as Grand Vizier (1580-1582). See TD VIA,
s.v. ‘Koca Sinan Paça’ (M. ipçirli).
92 Sinan Pasha’s animosity towards the royal tutor and the kadiasker of Rumelia as well as Ferhad
Pasha comes through quite clearly in the telhists he sent to Murad III, even if the grand vizier
was forced to be a bit more circumspect and indirect in his attacks against Hoca Sadeddin on
account of the latter’s special status as a top-ranking member of the ulema as well as royal tu­
tor. See Sahillioglu (ed.), Koca Sinan Pa$a ’nm Telhisleri, 51-53, 65-66, 69-71, 90-91, 133-134,
153, 182-183, 195-197; 199-200, 228-229, 260. See also ipçirli, ‘Koca Sinan Paça’.
93 On the special relationship between the Crimean Khanate and the Ottoman Empire, see N. Kro-
likowska, ‘Sovereignty and Subordination in Crimean-Ottoman Relations (Sixteenth-Eigh­
teenth Centuries)’ in G. Kârmân and L. Kuncevic (eds), The European Tributary States o f the
Ottoman Empire in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Leiden and Boston 2013), 43-65.
94 Reportedly, Âdil Giray had been killed because of his involvement in an adulterous love affair
with a Safavid royal woman, but there are also counterclaims that the murder of both Âdil Gi­
ray and his alleged romantic liason were all part of a power struggle between different factions
in the Safavid palace. On this affair, see L. Uluç, ‘The Representation of the Execution of the
Safavid Princess Begum from the Ottoman Historian Mustafa Ali’s Nusretname’, in F. Hitzel
(ed.), I4th International Congress o f Turkish Art: Proceedings (Paris 2013), 799-806.
172 DERIN TERZIOGLU

that the Crimean Sufi did not suffer any setback in his Istanbul career in subsequent ye­
ars, we may presume that he had successfully adapted to the new political situation. In
fact, there is considerable parallelism between the political positions o f the Crimean Sufi
and the new Crimean Khan: just as Kirimî would position him self as a loyal subject of
the Ottoman house in his letters to Murad III, Islam II Giray, too, would prove him self
an ardent Ottoman loyalist and initiate the custom o f having the Ottoman Sultan’s name
read before his own in the Friday sermons delivered in Crimean mosques.95
The next person to be appointed Khan, Gazi Giray (r. 1588-1597), was also a son o f
Devlet Giray like Âdil and Mehmed Giray. He too participated in the Transcaucasian
campaign under Âdil Giray’s command, was taken captive by the Safavids, but managed
to return safely to the Ottoman lands before being appointed Khan. Given K inm î’s re­
puted acquaintance with Devlet Giray during his youth in Crimea, and his attachment to
Âdil Giray during his Rumelian years, and given the fact that his patron Hoca Sadeddin
him self had warm relations with Gazi Giray, it would be surprising indeed if the Crimean
Sufi did not know the new Khan personally. It seems, however, that in his correspon­
dence with Murad III, K inm î also refrained from making references to this Khan for the
reasons stated above.
To recapitulate, the discussion so far has revealed K inm î to have been a skilled politi­
cal player who was able successfully to juggle his roles as Sufi sheikh and royal favouri­
te, to maintain an impressive web o f connections that extended from Crimea to Istanbul,
and even to weather the intense infighting and factional struggles at the Ottoman court.
Yet it would be wrong to say that K irim î’s concern as a court player was simply to pre­
serve his privileged position as the Sultan’s sheikh and favourite. As a ‘Sunnitising’ Sufi,
with loyalty to both the Ottoman and Crimean dynasties, K inm î also had a distinctive
perspective on Ottoman politics, and he used his influence over the Ottoman Sultan to
promote policies in line with this distinctive vision. It is only when we examine these po­
licy recommendations o f his and place them in their proper historical context that we can
truly appreciate how an early m odem Sufi with multiple affiliations navigated his way
through the complex demands o f religious and political ideology as well as realpolitik at
the turn o f the sixteenth century.

Religion in the service o f the state?

The uses and limits o f Sunni confessionalism
Even though in his letters to Murad III K inm î dwelt more on practical politics than on
political theory, his basic approach to Ottoman politics can be said to have followed the
line o f the ‘Sunnitising’ Halvetis o f Rumelia such as his master, Muslihuddin Nureddin-
zade, and his m aster’s master, Sofyali Ball. On the one hand, he drew on the Sufi, and
particularly Akbarian, idea o f the body politic as a mirror image o f the cosmic order to
describe the Sultan as the soul (ruh) and sometimes the heart (kaih) o f the body politic
and the guarantor o f order in this world. On the other hand, he also drew on the juridical

95 TDVÎA, s.v ‘Giray’ (H. Inalcik).

 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 173

discourse o f Islamic rulership to emphasise the duties o f the Sultan to dispense justice, to
enforce the sharia and the Sunna o f the Prophet, and to wage war in the name o f religion
(gaza and jihad being words he used interchangeably and often jointly in this connec­
tion).
For Kirimî, as for other confessionally-minded Halvetis, the only admissible form of
Islam was Sunnism, albeit a Sunnism that was tempered by Sufism, and which accommo­
dated the historical experiences and political needs o f the Ottoman state. In fact, the Sufi
writer equated political loyalty to the Ottoman house and religious conformity to such an
extent that he even claimed that someone who refuses to pray for the well-being o f the
Ottoman Sultan can no longer be be considered “a believer and a Muslim” .96 K inm î also
highlighted the Islamic credentials o f the Ottoman Sultan as well as the Ottoman harmo­
nisation o f Sufism with the sharia when he contrasted Ottoman religio-political history
with that o f Safavid Iran. He argued that it was because the ulema, the sheikhs, and
military rulers (iimera) o f Iran had tried to pursue the path o f gnosis (mearif-i ilâhiyyé)
without showing respect for the sharia and the Sunna that the “Kmlba§ tribes” (kabail-i
Kizilbaç) had managed to extend their rule over that geography. The lands o f Rum, by
contrast, had been spared the same calamity, as the Ottoman rulers from the beginning
had shown great respect for the sharia and the Sunna, and as they had built countless
“imarets, mosques, dervish lodges (tekye), medreses and other charitable foundations,
which extend in an unbroken line from Istanbul to Yanya”.97
Even though K inm î mentioned the dervish lodges and imarets (a term which had
originally denoted a multi-functional hospice but which by the late sixteenth century had
come to mean a soup kitchen) along with mosques and medreses among the institutions
that had helped implant religious orthodoxy in the lands o f Rum, he clearly excluded
from this category the i§ik zaviyeleri, namely the dervish lodges frequented by the Shii-
tising antinomian dervishes in the Ottoman lands. In fact, K inm î called on the Ottoman
Sultan actively to survey and punish the antinomian dervishes, whom he regarded as “he­
retics” (zindik, miilhid), and “not M uslim”. He also specifically targeted the Bedreddims
- or as he called them, the Simavnis - a heterodox Muslim community which had its
origins in the messianic movement associated with the famous Sufi and scholar Bedred-
din o f Simavna (d. 1420), but which by the sixteenth century had come under Shiitising
influences and “turned Kizilbaf’. According to Kinm î, the Bedreddims lived mainly “on
the other side o f the Balkans”, in Dobruja and in the villages known by the name of
Taviçeler (or Toyçalar)98 in the same region, but they were also to be found in Babaeski,

96 Güven, ‘Çesitli yonleriyle’, 133.

97 Ibid., 29.
98 Even though Güven has transcribed the word as ‘Duçeler’, I have learnt from Nevena Gram­
matikova, courtesy of Rossitsa Gradeva, that the correct reading should be Taviçeler or Toyça­
lar, a word that is thought to be of either Slavic or Mongol origin, and which denoted officers
of the light cavalry stationed along the Danube. I thank both scholars for their assistance in
this matter. For a reference to the Taviçes in the Ottoman archival records as well as a discus­
sion of the word’s etymology, see A. Kayapinar and E. Erdogan Ôzünlü (eds), Mihalogullari-
na ait 1586 tarihli akinci defteri (Ankara 2015), 6, 260.
174 DERIN TERZÎOGLU

where the Crimean sheikh him self had come into contact and clashed with them. On the
basis o f his own experiences, and, presumably, also o f information that he would have
picked up from his numerous associates in the region, Kinm î labelled the Bedreddinîs
as Rafizîs (a derogatory term for Shiites), and claimed that they supported or were even
indistinguishable from the Kizilbaÿ (K m lb a fa birdüf). He directed at them the standard
forms o f accusation that were directed at the Kizilbaç, such as having no respect for the
sharia and the Sunna, and habitually cursing the first four (!) Caliphs openly in public.
He also highlighted the threat that these groups presented to the Ottoman political order
by referring to the incidents o f banditry and Celali disturbances that habitually erupted in
places where this community lived. He also blamed the widespread incidents o f military
desertion among the timar-holding cavalrymen in the region on their being Bedreddinh,
claiming that these men regularly abandoned their timars in order not to fight against the
Kizilba§ (i.e., the Safavids).99
When Kinm î wrote to Murad about the Bedreddinîs, the Ottomans had just signed
a peace treaty with the Safavids (1590), but the Sufi writer urged the Ottoman Sultan
now to channel his campaign inwards and to perfect his gaza and jihad by going after
the Bedreddinî heretics. He advised the Sultan first to target the military personnel in the
fortresses and to subject them to inspections (yoklama) to weed out the heretics. He also
called for inspections to be undertaken at the lodges o f the ipk: “if the dervishes agree to
give up their reprehensible practices such as cursing the Companions o f the Prophet and
the Four Rightly Guided Caliphs and to abide by the Sunna and the Sharia, fine; if not,
then they should also be eliminated (r e f)”. The Sufi sheikh was a little more optimistic
about the possibility o f reforming the reay a. He argued that they would largely follow
suit, if they saw their religious and military elites brought into line. However, he also
advised in more proactive fashion that “a Sunni imam should be sent to every village, and
he should be in charge o f educating the children, women, and men”.100
K irim fs advice about the Bedreddinîs may seem a good deal harsher than the policies
that the Ottoman state officials were implementing on the ground. Scholarship based on
the Ottoman miihimme records has pointed out that at this period the political authori­
ties were mainly going after those Kizilba§ who had recently ‘converted’, or who were
actively helping the Safavids by sending them taxes, by missionising on their behalf,
or by trying to migrate to the Safavid lands. Moreover, the Kizilba§ and Shiite com­
munities which bore the brunt o f the state surveillance and punishment were located in
the frontier provinces o f the Empire, most notably in the provinces o f Rum, Dulkadir,
Çehrizor, and Baghdad, while the Kizilba§ communities which inhabited the Empire’s
western provinces as well as M t Lebanon were largely spared.101 Still, it would be wrong

99 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 57-59.

100 Ibid., 58-59.
101 H. Sohrweide, ‘Der Sieg der Safaviden in Persien und seine Riickwirkungen auf die Schiiten
Anatoliens im 16. Jahrhundert’, Der Islam, 41 (1965), 95-223; C. Imber, ‘The Persecution of
the Ottoman Shi‘ites according to the Miihimme Defterleri, 1565-1585’, Der Islam 56 (1979),
245-273; M. Salati, ‘Toleration, Persecution and Local Realities: Observations on the Shiism
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 175

to dismiss Kirimî’s harsh discourse on the Bedreddinîs as ideological ranting which had
no chance o f application. Even if in the late sixteenth century the extreme persecuting
measures advocated by Kirimî were not put into action in a domestic context, it should be
borne in mind that shortly after Tabriz had come into Ottoman lands, the Ottoman soldi­
ers stationed there had reportedly killed “thousands” o f civilians (mostly merchants and
shopkeepers) in retribution for the killing o f some Ottoman soldiers in a public bath.102
Since Kirimî him self had arrived in the same city a year later, he would almost certainly
have heard o f this massacre and possibly had this kind o f purge in mind when he advised
Murad to eliminate the Bedreddinîs living in Ottoman Rumelia.
In addition, it is important to remember that Kirimî was not alone in targeting the
Bedreddinîs as he did; rather, several other Rumelian sheikhs in his branch o f the Halveti
order, including his master, Nureddinzade, and his master’s master, Sofyali Bâlî, had
done the same, and would continue to do so in the decades to come.103 This suggests
that the non-conformist Muslims in Rumelia were not exactly left alone, as some recent
studies would seem to suggest, but, rather, that they were pressured by a number o f local
groups, including, no doubt, the Sunnitising Halveti sheikhs as well as their followers
and sympathisers among the military administrators and the civilian population.
At present, we do not know through what channels a network o f Sufis in Ottoman
Rumelia could internalise imperial discourse that paired heresy with political treason.
What is clear, nevertheless, is that these Sufis still viewed confessional matters through
a highly localised perspective. In fact, as intimately as Kirimî knew the distribution o f
Bedreddinîs in the eastern Balkan countryside, he had only the vaguest idea about the
presence o f Kizilbaç-Alevi, Shiite, or other non-conformist Muslim communities in other
parts o f the Ottoman Empire. He had nothing to say about the Kizilba§- Alevi commu­
nities living in different parts o f Anatolia, for instance, presumably because he was not

in the Holy Places and the Bilad al-Sham (Sixteenth- Seventeenth Centuries)’, in Convegno
sul tema La Shi'a nell'Impero Ottomano, Roma, 15 Apr. 1991 (Rome 1993), 121-148; S. Sa-
vaç, XVI. Asirda Anadolu ’da Alevttik (Ankara 2002); S. Winter, The Shiites o f Lebanon under
Ottoman Rule, 1516-1788 (Cambridge 2010); A. Baltacioglu-Brammer, ‘The Formation of
Kizilbaç Communities in Anatolia, and Responses, 1450s-1630s’, IJTS, 20 (2014), 21-48.
102 It should be noted, however, that most of the Ottoman accounts relate the massacre with a deg­
ree of disapproval and try to absolve the Ottoman commander Ozdemiroglu of direct respon­
sibility for them. See Mustafa Ali, Kiinhii 'l-ahbar. Dôrdüncü riikn: Osmanli tarihi, (Ankara
2009), 530b-531a; Âsafî Dal Mehmed Çelebi, §ecâ ‘atnâme: Ozdemiroglu Osman Paça ’nm
çark seferleri (1578-1585), ed. A. Ozcan (Istanbul 2006), 540-542; B. Ôzkuzugüdenli,
‘Tâ‘lîkî-zâde Mehmed Subhî Tebrîziyye’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Marmara Oniversitesi,
2005, 68-70; Y. Zeyrek (ed.), Târîh-i Osman Paça: Ozdemiroglu Osman Paçanin Kajkasya
fetihleri (H. 986-988/M. 1578-1580) ve Tebriz’in fethi (H. 993/M. 1585) (Ankara 2001), 71-
72; M. Karanfil, ‘Harîmî’nin Zafernâme ve Gonca’sina gore Ozdemiroglu Osman Paça’, un­
published M.A. thesis, Istanbul Oniversitesi, 1998, 101-102; Selanikî, Tarih, 162-163; Peçevî
Ibrahim, Tarîh-i Peçevî (Istanbul 1980), with an index and introduction by F. Ç. Derin and V.
Çabuk, 98-99.
103 For a discussion of the views of Bâlî and Nureddinzade, see Clayer, Mystiques, état et société,
78-79, 85-86.
176 DERIN TERZIOGLU

familiar with this region. Likewise, regarding the province o f Baghdad, his sole comment
was that “the people o f Baghdad have been mired in heresy (ilhad) and libertinism (iba-
hat) since the time o f Hallac-i Mansur”, suggesting only a vague, and rather bookish,
familiarity with the confessional make-up and history o f this province.104
In comparison, Kirimî must have been more familiar with the confessional map of
Iran, since he had accompanied Ferhad Pasha into Tabriz in 1586, and since he had follo­
wed the development o f the rest o f the Ottoman-Safavid wars o f 1578-1590 quite closely.
As we have already seen, K irim fs discussion o f Safavid Iran, both during and after the
end o f the Ottoman-Safavid campaigns, was extremely negative. In fact, he denied the
Safavids even the minimal respect that was granted by Ottoman officials in diplomatic
correspondence, and even in some o f the Ottoman histories. Rather than acknowledge
the Safavid Shah as a rival dynasty, Kirimî described Iran simply as a land overrun by
“Kizilbaç tribes” and “Kizilbaç gypsies” (Kizilbaç kiptîsi) and in a permanent state of
chaos. It is worth noting that even though tribalism was also a potent force in the Tatar
polity as well as in parts o f the Ottoman Empire, Kirimî, with close links to the Crimean
and Ottoman dynasties, associated tribes with lawlessness and chaos. Simultaneously, he
coupled the Kizilba§ with the gypsies because he associated both with a lack o f respect
for Islamic social and religious norms.105
In many letters as well as in his Mawâhib al-rahmân, Kirimî gave strong support to
the Ottoman campaign against the Safavids, and in one letter, written in 1579, a year af­
ter the start o f that campaign, he even expressed hope for a total conquest o f the Safavid
realms.106 Moreover, even after a peace treaty was signed between the two empires in
1590, he reminded Murad that peace with heretics could not be permanent and he urged
the Sultan to come to the aid o f the people o f Gilan, as they were “Sunni” but were now
facing political subjugation by the Safavids.107 Still, the Crimean sheikh was not an in­
discriminate advocate o f continual warfare against the Safavids. Quite the contrary: in
several letters he composed after the conclusion o f the Ottoman-Safavid peace treaty, he
stressed the futility o f waging war against the Safavids. Interestingly, it was less on an
ideological basis and more on pragmatic grounds that Kirimî urged the Sultan to wage
war against the “infidels” in the West instead. “If only one-tenth o f the effort invested in
the Safavid campaigns had been invested in campaigns against the Franks, many lands
would have been conquered”, he wrote. He also urged the Sultan to take advantage o f the
peace with the Kizilba§ and turn to the much neglected western frontier. Possibly with
the Q ur’anic verse 2:115 {Unto Allah belong the East and the West, and whithersoever
ye turn, there is A lla h ’s Countenance. Lo! Allah is All-Embracing, All-Knowing) in mind,
he reminded Murad that perfect justice is bounded neither by the West nor by the East.

104 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 40-41.

105 On the place of and attitudes towards gypsies in the Ottoman Balkans, see E. Marushiakova
and V. Popov, Gypsies in the Ottoman Empire: A Contribution to the History o f the Balkans
(Hatfield 2001).
106 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 92; Yakubovych, ‘ANeglected Ottoman Sufi Treatise’.
107 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 59-61.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 177

Hence if Murad was to perfect his rule, he was not to occupy him self with the conquest
o f the East alone, but also turn his attention to the West, where the infidels had been ha­
rassing Muslims for some tim e.'08
It might be presumed that K inm î’s greater enthusiasm about war against the “infi­
dels” in the West reflected, in part, the general mood at the Ottoman court, where many
saw the conclusion of the Safavid campaign as an opportunity to attend to more profi­
table military engagements on other fronts. Circa 1590-1591, different factions had dif­
ferent ideas about which o f these fronts they wanted to prioritise. Some favoured going
after Venetian-held Crete, while others favoured targeting Malta as part of a broader
effort to weaken Spain. To all appearances, Kirimî him self did not have a strong opinion
about whether the Ottomans were to take on Venice or Spain. Instead, he advised Murad
simply to attend to the “gaza on the seas” and try to take Crete and M alta.108109 In another
letter, possibly written sometime in 1592, he related a dream about the capture o f Vienna,
seemingly in a gesture o f support for those who favoured a war against the Habsburgs
instead.110
If, however, Kirimî played it safe by making rather generic remarks in support o f
war against the “Franks”, he was far more specific and informed when he advised Murad
about how to deal with Poland-Lithuania and Muscovy. It is reasonable to think that the
author’s Crimean background had much to do with the strong interest he took in these
two major powers o f eastern Europe. Both the Grand Duchy o f Muscovy and Poland-Lit­
huania were immediate neighbours o f the Crimean Khanate, and intricate ties o f military
conflict and rivalry as well as diplomacy connected the three states closely. O f course,
relations with both countries also mattered to the Ottomans, but not as much as did rela­
tions with their more immediate rivals, the Safavids and the Habsburgs.
This basic difference between Ottoman and Crimean priorities came to the fore espe­
cially during the Ottoman-Safavid wars o f 1578-1590. As Ottoman vassals, the Crimeans
had to contribute actively to the war efforts, and this took a heavy toll on the security of
the Khanate itself, tipping the power balance in favour o f Muscovy and Poland-Lithuania
and exposing the Khanate to numerous raids by the Muscovites as well as by the irregu­
lar Cossack units which inhabited the Ukrainian steppes and were controlled only very
loosely by Poland-Lithuania. All these developments caused a good deal o f resentment
among the Crimean ruling elites,111 and it is more than likely that Kirimî was also voicing

108 Ibid., 96, 116, 186.

109 Ibid., 7.
110 Ibid., 88-89.
111 The mounting tensions had led the Crimean Khan Mehmed II Giray to clash with the Ottoman
authorities, and eventually to lose first his post and then his life. The next Khan, Islam Gi­
ray, in turn, had had to contend with the threat posed by two sons of Mehmed Giray who had
sought refuge in Muscovy, and who periodically attacked the Khanate with the Tatar forces
they summoned. On these developments, see D. Kolodziejczyk, The Crimean Khanate and
Poland-Lithuania: International Diplomacy on the European Periphery (15lh-18lh Century):
A Study o f Peace Treaties Followed by Annotated Documents (Leiden and Boston 2011), 105-
106.
178 DERIN TERZiOGLU

some o f this resentment, when he complained about the neglect o f the defences o f the
Empire’s western territories during the Ottoman-Safavid wars.112
In the late 1580s, however, Ottoman and Crimean interests had begun once more to
converge, as both parties blamed Poland-Lithuania for her failure to stop the Cossacks of
Dnieper from raiding Ottoman, Crimean, and Moldavian settlements around the Black
Sea. In 1587, the Ottomans authorised the Crimeans to organise a punitive raid on the Pol-
ish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, and even sent a contingent o f Janissaries to support them
in this effort. However, Islam Giray died unexpectedly before the raid was undertaken,
and in 1588, the new Khan, Gazi Giray, extended offers o f peace to Cracow in return for
overdue “gifts”. The tensions were once again stirred up when the expected gifts failed
to arrive, and there was talk, for a while, o f an Ottoman invasion o f Poland-Lithuania. It
seems that at this point in time, opinion was also divided at the Ottoman court between
those who favoured peaceful relations with the Poles (largely because they prioritised
military confrontation elsewhere) and those who wanted, rather, an all-out war against
them. A powerful official favouring the former position was Koca Sinan Pasha, while the
opposing faction included the new Beglerbegi o f Rumelia, Saatçi Hasan Pasha, and the
influential Jewish dignitary David Passi, who had been playing the role o f go-between be­
tween the Ottoman and Polish courts. Ultimately, it was Sinan Pasha’s clique that had its
way, mainly by convincing the Sultan that members o f the other faction were in the pay of
the Spanish or the Venetians, and were purposefully sabotaging Ottoman-Polish relations
behind M urad’s back. The disgrace o f Passi and the arrival o f a diplomatic mission from
Cracow with the promised gifts finally sealed the Ottoman peace with Poland in 1591.113
It seems that Kirimi him self sympathised with the losing faction in this affair. In a
letter that he must have written shortly after the arrival o f the Polish envoy, the Crimean
Sufi expressed relief that the “Polish treasury” (L eh ’in hazinesi) was finally delivered,
and he reported with a touch o f disbelief that he had heard rumours that the Poles had
promised to send the agreed amounts on a yearly basis thereafter. Even though Kirimî
was prudent enough not to go against the prevailing trend at the Ottoman court, he still

112 In fact, Kirimî was already addressing these issues in a letter written in 1580. Specifically, he
informed the Sultan about the Cossack raids in the vicinity of Akkirman, Bender, and Ôzü,
and reported that people in Kili and Babaeski were said to be ‘in great fear and consternation”.
Giiven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 162.
113 On the military and diplomatic negotiations between Istanbul, Bahçesaray, and Cracow, see
Kolodziejczyk, The Crimean Khanate, 104-109; for a discussion of the complex relations
between Cracow, the Polish-Lithuanian nobility, and the Cossacks, see S. Plokhy, Cossacks
and Religion in Early Modern Ukraine (Oxford 2001); on the divisions within the Ottoman
court on the same issue and the Passi affair, see S. Faroqhi, ‘Ein Günstling des osmanischen
Sultans Murad III: David Passi’, Der Islam, 47 (1971), 290-297; E. Ôzgen, ‘The Connected
World of Intrigues: the Disgrace of Murad Ill’s Favourite David Passi in 1591’, Leidschrift,
27 (2012), 75-100; E. S. Giirkan, ‘Mediating Boundaries: Mediterranean Go-Betweens and
Cross-Confessional Diplomacy in Constantinople, 1560-1600’, Journal o f Early Modern His­
tory 19 (2015), 107-128; Sahillioglu (ed.), Koca Sinan Paça’nm telhisleri, 12-15, 17-18, 64,
82-83, 90-91, 182-183, 205, 258-260.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFBSSIONALISM 179

urged the Sultan not to tolerate similar insolence from these “infidels” in the future. If
the Poles are remiss in paying their tribute again, he advised, then the Ottomans should
go and simply conquer their lands. To whet M urad’s appetite for such a venture, Kirimi
portrayed Poland-Lithuania as a weak power, and downplayed the distance that separated
this country from the Ottoman capital, claiming that “it would take no more than ten days
to go from here to Poland, if only the Black Sea were land”.114
Kirimi likewise followed the Ottoman negotiations with Muscovy very closely. In a
letter he wrote in Muharrem 1001/October-November 1592, he told the Sultan that he
had heard o f the arrival o f the Muscovite ambassador in Istanbul. He added that if the
Muscovites should ask for the renewal o f peaceful relations with the Ottomans, a deal
could be struck with them so that the Muscovites could get to keep the fortress they had
built over the Terek river, but give Astrakhan (Han in the text) and Kazan in return. Mus­
covy should also promise not to build a fortress over the Kuban river. However, even in
the event o f such a truce, the Sultan would do well to watch the Muscovites carefully,
Kirimi cautioned, as the latter were known for their deceit and as they had close to 10,000
soldiers with rifles in the fortress on the Terek river alone.115
It could be argued that Kirimi advised Murad to offer to the Muscovite ambassador
terms o f peace that served Crimean more than Ottoman interests. The Terek fortress,
which the Sufi sheikh was willing to leave in Muscovite hands, was in the North Cauca­
sus and thus much closer to the Ottoman sphere o f operation than both Kazan and Astrak­
han, which he wanted “back” . In fact, it had been the Muscovite construction of the Terek
fortress that had first alarmed the Ottomans about M uscovy’s expansion to the south, but
clearly, by 1592, Muscovite control o f this fortress was firmly established, and the issue
was now simply to prevent the Muscovites from building further fortresses in the region.
Kazan and Astrakhan, which Murad was supposed to demand from Muscovy, were
important former centres o f the Golden Horde, whose capture by Moscow in the mid six­
teenth century had been a major blow to the Girays, undermining their claims o f succes­
sion to the Golden Horde, while bestowing on the Grand Duchy o f Muscovy a new im­
perial prestige and aura. Even though Kazan and Astrakhan lay far beyond the Ottomans’
conventional areas o f operation, between 1567 and 1569 the latter had also briefly toyed
with the idea o f evicting the Muscovites from Astrakhan by digging a channel between
the Don and the Volga and using it to transfer the Ottoman ships and heavy guns up north.
Yet the plan had come to nothing, in part because o f logistical difficulties and in part be­
cause the Crimeans had failed to render the Ottomans their full support, probably because
they had not wanted their powerful Ottoman overlords to extend their rule and influence
over lands that they regarded as their own patrimony.116 In any case, after the failure o f

114 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 62-63; also see ibid., 186.

115 Ibid., 11.
116 H. inalcik, ‘The Origins of the Ottoman-Russian Rivalry and the Don-Volga Canal (1569)’,
Annales de l'Université d ’Ankara, 1 (1946-1947), 47-110; A. N. Kurat, ‘The Turkish Expe­
dition to Astrakhan in 1569 and the Problem of the Don-Volga Canal’, Slavonic and East Eu­
ropean Review, 40 (1961), 7-23; A. A. Novoselskiy, XVII. yiizydin birinciyarisinda Moskova
180 DERIN TERZiOGLU

this project, the Ottomans had lost pretty much all interest in the issue, and it is unlikely
that their interest would have been revived at a time when they were turning their attenti­
on from their eastern frontiers to the west, and preparing for a new campaign against the
Habsburgs. On the other hand, around the time that Kirimî wrote his letter, Gazi II Giray
was threatening Muscovy with an Ottoman invasion o f Astrakhan to strengthen his hand
in negotiations. In this context, it is quite possible that Kinm î gave Murad the advice
that he did not because he actually expected the Ottomans to go to war over Kazan and
Astrakhan, but because he thought that the renewal o f Ottoman demands as to these two
important lands would help the Crimean Khan’s negotiations with Moscow.
Having discussed at some length K irim f s views on Ottoman policies towards the
Empire’s non-Sunni Muslim subjects as well as towards non-Sunni and non-Muslim ne­
ighbouring states, it might be appropriate to round off this discussion by considering
what the Crimean Sufi had to say on Ottoman policies towards the non-Muslim, spe­
cifically Jewish and Christian, communities which lived under Ottoman rule. This is a
question o f considerable significance, since the second half o f the sixteenth century also
witnessed the beginning o f a long process within the Empire whereby the confessional
boundaries between Muslims and non-Muslims would become progressively hardened.
Until now, scholars have tried to account for this process in a number o f different ways.
Some have stressed the toll that the growing social, political and economic tensions and
intensified inter-elite conflicts took on intercommunal relations, while others have put the
emphasis instead on the growing weight o f shar‘i norms among the Ottoman ruling elites
as well as ordinary Muslim subjects, leading them to reject the earlier accommodationist
policies in favour o f policies that would institutionalise the subordinate position o f Jews
and Christians under the legal category o f dhim m ïhood. O f course, the two explanatory
frameworks do not actually exclude each other. In fact, several scholars have pointed out
that both religious and pragmatic considerations impacted the policies o f the Ottoman
state, and that the state authorities actually engaged in a complex process in the inter­
communal conflicts that flared up, going along with the Islamising demands when and
where it suited them, but restraining them at other times to safeguard intercommunal
peace and public order.117 Interestingly, nevertheless, scholarship has tended to present
a more monochrome picture as far as the so-called ‘non-state’ actors and especially reli­
gious figures are concerned. In some o f the recent studies, the latter have been portrayed
almost exclusively as agents o f Islamisation rather than as complex actors with complex
material as well as ideological considerations.118

devletinin Tatarlarla milcadelesi, translated into Turkish by K. Ortayh, ed. E. Afyonlu and i.
Kamalov (Ankara 2011), 1-42; M. Khodarkovsky, ‘The Non-Christian Peoples on the Musco­
vite Frontiers’ in M. Perrie (ed.), The Cambridge History o f Russia, Vol.l : From Early Rus'to
1689, (Cambridge 2002), esp. 317-327; Kolodziejczyk, The Crimean Khanate, 90-111.
117 For nuanced discussions of the roles played by Ottoman state officials in cases of intercom­
munal conflict, see R. Gradeva, ‘Apostasy in Rumeli in the Middle of the Sixteenth Century’,
Arabic Historical Review for Ottoman Studies, 22 (2000), 29-73; Krstic, Contested Conversi­
ons, esp. 143-164.
118 This is especially evident in the growing literature on the Kadizadeli movement of the seven-
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 181

K inm î’s letters indicate the need to introduce greater nuance and complexity into
our analyses o f even the most confessionally-minded religious actors. Remarkably, even
though the letters are suffused with a rhetoric o f religious antagonism towards “heretics”
and “infidels”, this rhetoric is not deployed against the Christians and Jews living under
Ottoman rule. The only statement in K inm î’s letters that could be construed as showing
Islamic zeal against the Empire’s Christian subjects would be his celebration o f the con­
version o f the Pammakaristos Church into a mosque circa 1590.119 This was actually one
o f several instances in which churches were converted into mosques in this period, but
it carried particular significance as the Pammakaristos Church had served as the seat of
the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate for about a century and a half prior to its conversion.
It has been argued that the conversion o f Pammakaristos was “driven by two factors:
the search for imperial prestige in an age o f diminished opportunities and the increasing
difficulty o f building in Istanbul”.120 Indeed, it was the rather modest Ottoman gains in
Georgia against the Safavids that had provided the Ottomans with the pretext to seize the
Pammakaristos and rename it the Fethiye (Conquest) Mosque in commemoration. In his
comments on the incident, K inm î him self emphasised the prestige that the conversion of
the church conferred on Murad personally, arguing that it had been an act o f divine grace
(inayet-i ilâhiyyé) that the Church of Pammakaristos had come intact down to M urad’s
time, allowing the latter to enjoy the unique honour o f conquering this building for Islam.
Unlike other sharia-minded commentators who showed an interest in the issue, Kinmî
did not, however, urge Murad to convert other churches into mosques. It is true that the
royal menagerie he wanted converted into a dervish lodge had once been a Byzantine
church, but at the time he was writing, the building had lost its religious significance, or
at least function.
If K m m î diplayed a relatively low dose o f religious zeal against the local Christians
in his letters to Murad, he did not display even that low dose towards the Jews. In fact,
even though the Sufi sheikh barely commented on flesh-and-blood Jews in his letters, he
often reminded the Sultan o f the importance o f the Old Testament prophets revered by
both Jews and Muslims, and he urged Murad to take good care o f the tomb o f Abraham
in Jerusalem.121 This neutral, and even positive, treatment o f Judaic themes in Kirimî’s
letters is quite interesting, and demands further analysis. It is possible that as an Akbarian

teenth century. For a particularly monochrome characterisation of the Kadizadelis (and their
Ottoman patrons) as diehard agents of Islamisation, see M. D. Baer, Honored by the Glory o f
Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe (Oxford 2008); for a more recent study
which has emphasised the social and economic dynamics behind the movement, see M. Sari-
yannis, ‘The Kadizadeli Movement as a Social and Political Phenomenon: the Rise of a “Mer­
cantile Ethic”?’ in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), Political Initiatives from the Bottom-Up in the
Ottoman Empire (Halcyon Days in Crete VII, A Symposium Held in Rethymno, 9-11 January
2009) (Rethymno 2012), 263-289.
119 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yonleriyle’, 167-168.
120 M. Greene, The Edinburgh History o f the Greeks, 1453 to 1768: the Ottoman Empire (Edin­
burgh 2015), 65-66.
121 Güven, ‘Çeçitli yônleriyle’, 7-10, 16-19, 22-25, 26-28, 32, 52, 92-93,146, 170.
182 DER1N TERZIOGLU

Sufi, Kirimî was simply enacting Ibn Arabi’s teaching that each and every Muslim saint
would inherit the spiritual legacy o f one or more o f the earlier prophets; in his case, that
o f Abraham, with whom he shared his first name.122 It is also possible, though difficult to
prove, that with this kind o f statements the Crimean Sufi was subtly taking a more pro-
Jewish position at the Ottoman court. This was, after all, a time when the Jewish digni­
taries at the Ottoman court were coming under attacks from both disgruntled kul soldiers
and some high-level officers. While opponents o f Jewish court influence often expressed
their objection in religio-legal terms, arguing that it went against the sharia and the Sunna
to employ “infidels, and especially Jews” in state service, in reality, a variety o f social,
political, and economic as well as religious factors fuelled the conflicts. The kul soldiers,
in particular, targeted the Jewish bankers and female courtiers known as kiras because
they held the latter to be responsible for the monetary instability o f the 1580s and 90s,
and particularly, for the 1589 debasement o f Ottoman coinage, which had reduced their
purchasing power by nearly half. Other attacks on individual Jewish dignitaries were
rooted in the incipient factionalism o f the period, as was the case with the conflict that
pitted Koca Sinan Pasha against David Passi. Considering that several o f K inm î’s own
patrons, including Safiye Sultan and Ferhad Pasha were aligned with the Jewish dignita­
ries under attack, it is tempting to think that the Crimean Sufi’s sympathies, too, lay with
the latter rather than with their Muslim critics.123

Conclusion
Having discussed various facets o f the political advice offered by Kirimî to Murad III
between the years 1580 and 1593, we can now conclude by considering some o f the bro­
ader implications o f the letters for our understanding o f Ottoman court and confessional
politics at the turn o f the sixteenth century. To begin with, K irim fs letters have shown us
that a Sufi sheikh and preacher who held no administrative office and who is not known
to have done so at any point o f his life could nevertheless be deeply involved in Ottoman

122 On Ibn Arabi’s prophetology, see M. Chodkiewicz, Seal o f the Saints: Prophethood and Sa­
inthood in the Doctrine o f Ibn Arab i (Cambridge 1993); for an exploration of the use of Akba-
rian prophetology by another politically-minded Ottoman Sufi, see D. Terzioglu, ‘Man in the
Image of God in the Image of the Times: Sufi Self-Narratives and the Diary of Niyâzï-i Misri
(1618-94)’ SI, 94 (2002), 139-165.
123 On the Jewish bankers, merchants, physicians, and kiras connected with the Ottoman court,
and the challenges they faced during the reign of Murad III, see J. H. Mordtmann, ‘Die jü-
dischen Kira im Serai der Sultane’, Mitteilungen des Seminars fur Orientalische Sprachen,
32 (1929), 1-38; C. Roth, The House o f Nasi: The Duke o f Naxos (Philadelphia 1948), esp.
187-221 ; S. Baron, A Social and Religious History o f the Jews: Late Middle Ages and Era of
European Expansion (New York and Philadelphia 1983 [2nd ed.]), XVIII: 122-181 ; M. Rozen,
A History o f the Jewish Community in Istanbul: the Formative Years, 1453-1566 (Leiden and
Boston 2010), 197-214; S. A. Skilliter, ‘Three Letters from the Ottoman ‘Sultana’ Safiye Sul­
tan to Queen Elizabeth I’, in S. M. Stern (ed.), Documentsfrom Islamic Chanceries (Cambrid­
ge 1965), 119-157.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 183

imperial politics. I have argued that what enabled Kirimî to become a prominent political
player was, on the one hand, his proximity to the Sultan as his sheikh and companion,
and on the other, his reputation and track record as a sharia-abiding, Sunnitising Sufi.
Both o f these facets o f his identity appear to have served him well in a time when court
and confessional politics together constituted much o f what we might regard as Ottoman
high politics.
While proximity to the Sultan had always been an important asset for those who wan­
ted to participate in the making o f Ottoman royal policy, recent scholarship has argued
that it became even more crucial in the late sixteenth century. A number o f different fac­
tors are thought to have contributed to this process, from “the sédentarisation o f the Sul­
tanate” to the “destabilisation o f the Grand Vizierate” and from the empowerment of the
palace aghas and royal favourites to the cessation o f the practice o f princely governors­
hips (which started slightly later, during the reign o f M urad’s son and successor Mehmed
III). At the same time, however, it has been argued that this development towards ‘abso­
lutism’ was countered by a powerful ‘constitutionalist’ coalition o f religious and military
elites, who invoked the kanun and the sharia to limit royal authority.124 Finally, a number
o f pioneering studies in Ottoman conceptual history have traced the emergence o f a more
depersonalised and more institutionalised understanding o f the Ottoman state in the wri­
tings o f Ottoman literati between the late sixteenth and late seventeenth centuries.125
While this study has concerned itself with a more micro-level, synchronic analysis
o f Ottoman imperial politics in the late sixteenth century, some o f its findings might also
have a bearing on what has been said so far about the transformation o f Ottoman political
culture during the early modem period. For instance, the letters reveal no evidence that
there was anything resembling an ‘absolutist’ versus ‘constitutionalist’ divide in the Ot­
toman court in this period. In fact, ju st about every major player in the sixteenth-century
Ottoman court can be said to have paid lipservice to the ‘absolute’ power o f the Otto­
man Sultan, regardless o f his or her social and political affiliations and opinions. What
is perhaps more crucial to note is that such lip service did not translate into ‘absolute’
power for the Ottoman Sultan. In fact, one could easily say o f the Ottoman Sultans in
the late sixteenth century what has already been said about the paradigmatically ‘absolu­
tist’ French monarchs in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, namely that, in actual
practice, the power o f these rulers was far from absolute, and depended on the successful
management and co-option o f diverse power groups within their realms. Along the same
lines, the Ottoman royal court, too, was not just a site for the performance o f the Otto­
man rites o f sovereignty and the production o f cultural forms representing the power and
magnificence o f the Ottoman Sultans, but also a political platform where members of
the ruling elites vied with one another to ‘influence’ the Ottoman ruler and royal policy.
K inm î him self was no exception. Even as this Sufi courtier eulogised Murad as the “sha­
dow o f God on earth” and the “renewer of faith”, he also felt free to inform, advise, and

124 Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire.

125 M. Sariyannis, ‘Ruler and State, State and Society in Ottoman Political Thought’, THR, 4
(2013), 83-117.
184 DER1N TERZiOGLU

sometimes gently rebuke the Sultan on a wide variety o f religious and political matters,
no doubt conveying in the process not just his own thoughts and concerns but also those
o f his diverse patrons and clients.
While the early modem Ottoman state has been described as a polity with both
‘bureaucratic’ and ‘patrim onial’ features, KinmFs letters point to a political system in
which relations o f patronage and clientage weighed far more than seemingly impersonal
rules and regulations. In letter upon letter, the Sufi sheikh put in a good word for various
officials in the military administration, the palace, and the religio-legal establishment
with the aim o f procuring for them better positions, or more often, to help them preserve
their current positions, which was a difficult task given the rapid turnover o f officials in
this period. It is striking that when Kirimî recommended an official, he often stressed
how he was personally indebted to the said official. Clearly, the reciprocity o f patron-
client relations and the exchange o f favours and benefits were such taken-for-granted
features o f Ottoman court politics that Kirimî did not feel the need to hide his personal
interests in recommending this or that official to the Sultan. O f course, in several instan­
ces, he also stressed the recommended officials’ loyalty to the Sultan and their previous
good service, but in general, ‘experience’ and ‘expertise’ were not central features of
his political discourse, as they arguably were o f the political discourse o f a number of
military administrators and civil bureaucrats in this period.126 Neither do we see any
references to kanun or Ottoman state law and tradition in K m rnî’s letters, as we see in
the political tracts and histories written by some other members o f the Ottoman imperial
administration.
It could be argued that Kirimî as the Sultan’s sheikh with no administrative position
represented the more ‘patrim onial’ features o f the Ottoman political system, while its
‘bureaucratic’ face was represented by writers who held offices in one o f the three prin­
cipal branches o f the state. This is a defensible position, provided that we remember that
there were also serious limits to the sixteenth-century Ottoman bureaucratic mentality.
As the letters o f Kirimî remind us, members o f the imperial administration, too, owed
their offices in no small part to patron-client relations. Moreover, it remains an open
question how much the Ottoman holders o f administrative offices internalised principles
that we associate with the bureaucratic mindset such as the separation o f functions. For
instance, Koca Sinan Pasha, who, like Mustafa Âli, argued that the job o f preachers was
strictly to recite Q ur’anic verses and hadiths and not to meddle in ‘state affairs’, was not
averse, when he saw it fit, to advising the Sultan about “his afterlife”, or to quoting verses
from the Q ur’an to get him on his side.127
This brings me to the third and last general issue, on which K inm î’s letters shed light:
namely, the uses o f religion and specifically, Sunni confessionalism, in sixteenth-century
Ottoman politics. Until recently, the rise o f Sunni confessionalism in the sixteenth-cen­
tury Ottoman Empire was discussed in a largely state-centric framework, as the result

126 On the importance of ‘expertise’ in early modem European state-building, see E. H. Ash, ‘Ex­
pertise and the Early Modem State’, Osiris, 25 (2010), 1-24.
127 Sahillioglu (ed.), Koca Sinan Paça'nm telhisleri, 12-16.
 POWER, PATRONAGE, AND CONFESSIONALISM 185

o f state action, taken in response to the Shiitising policies o f the rival Safavid dynasty,
on the one hand, and to the multiple challenges o f ruling a multi-ethnic, multi-religious
empire, on the other. As scholars have begun to pay closer attention to the political deve­
lopments and to the intellectual output o f this period, however, a more nuanced picture
has begun to emerge o f sixteenth-century Ottoman confessionalism.128 In a similar vein,
this study, too, has been an attempt to bring to the fore both the multiplicity o f agents
involved in the making o f Ottoman Sunnism and the complexity o f considerations that
informed their positions.
In a sense, K inm î’s letters might seem a peculiar choice for a scholar who wishes to
introduce greater complexity to our understanding o f sixteenth-century Ottoman confes­
sional politics, since the Crimean writer belonged to a line o f Sufis who had lent their
active support to the Ottoman Sunnitisation efforts for about three generations, and since
he, too, continued this position in his own lifetime. Add to this the fact that as a preacher
in one o f the most prestigious royal mosques in Istanbul as well as the Sultan’s sheikh,
Kinm î would almost certainly have considered him self to be a member o f the imperial
establishment. For all these reasons, it is not surprising to find a high degree o f matching
between K inm î’s religious discourse and what is sometimes labelled ‘official’ religious
discourse at this period. In particular, K inm î’s emphasis on the performance o f the cano­
nical religious rituals, and especially, the five daily prayers as an indicator o f orthodoxy,
his synthesis o f sharia-abiding Sufism with Sunnism, and his equation o f Km lba§ Islam
with political treason were in perfect alignment with the dominant réligio-political outlo­
ok among the Ottoman ruling elites in the last decades o f the sixteenth century.
At the same time, however, this study has also revealed that as important as Sunni
Islam was for K inm î as a source o f religious and political identity, it did not provide him
with a ready-made political agenda. In fact, like other political players in this period,
Kinm î was quite discriminating, when it came to advising the Ottoman Sultan about
specific policies. Certain matters that we associate with the sharia-minded politics o f this
period - such as calls for banishing Jews and Christians from state service, converting
churches into mosques, or imposing sartorial restrictions on non-Muslims - are discussed
only marginally, or do not figure at all in K inm î’s letters. While we can only speculate
about the social and political connections that might have made the Sufi sheikh less than
vigilant on these matters, it is easier to account for the specificities o f his foreign policy
recommendations. It is quite clear, for instance, that in the early 1590s, Kirimî was much
more enthusiastic about a possible Ottoman war against the Poles or the Muscovites than
about the possibility o f war against the Spanish, the Venetians, or for that matter, even
the Safavids. It is quite clear, too, that his preferences had more to do with his desire to
protect Crimean territorial interests than a concern for religious glory.

128 For recent notable studies that highlight the complexity of Ottoman religious and political
alignments in the early sixteenth century, see Z. Yiirekli, Architecture and Hagiography in the
Ottoman Empire: The Politics ofBektashi Shrines in the Classical Age (Abingdon 2012) and
E. Çipa, The Making o f Selim: Succession, Legitimacy, and Memory in the Early Modern Ot­
toman World (Bloomington and Indianapolis 2017).
186 DERIN TERZiOGLU

In fact, Kirimî was not unlike other Ottoman court players with his multiple loyalties
and affiliations. Recent research has shown that once in positions o f power, Ottoman
administrators o f devçirme background often reactivated their ties to their original fa­
milies and homelands, and tried to safeguard the interests o f their family members and
even their original countries without necessarily compromising their service to the Ot­
toman house. Even though as a freeborn Muslim and a member o f the Crimean ruling
elite, K inm î’s standing at the Ottoman court must have been different from that o f kul
administrators, his ability to serve both Ottoman and Crimean political interests is still
strongly reminiscent o f the endeavours of, say, Gazanfer Aga or Cigalazade Sinan Pasha
to safeguard Venetian interests even while serving the Ottoman house as a loyal Sunni
Muslim administrator.
This article has argued that we also have to take into consideration all these personal
ties and group loyalties when we examine how confessionalism worked as a political for­
ce in the early modern Ottoman Empire. In this regard, one o f the important conclusions
o f this study has been that confessionalism in the sixteenth-century Ottoman context was
less the straightforward implementation o f religious ‘ideology’ from the top down, and
more the working out o f a loose set o f religio-political orientations whose formulation
(not to mention implementation) was mediated in practice by power relations as well as
by personal and group loyalties.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN:
TWO AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL LETTERS BY KADIZADE MEHMED
FROM THE EARLY SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

for Michael Cook

Baki T ezcan *

K a d iza d e M eh m e d ( d . 1635) is a w ell - kn o w n n a m e for those who are interested in

the quotidian politics o f the mid to late seventeenth-century Ottoman capital, not to men­
tion the provinces. The Kadizadelis and their revivalist interpretation o f Islam, as well as
their social ties and political alliances, have been the subject o f various studies.1 What we

* UC Davis. I would like to thank the organisers of the Halcyon Days in Crete IX Symposium,
Antonis Anastasopoulos, Elias Kolovos, and Marinos Sariyannis for giving me an opportunity
to share my work. I am also indebted to the participants, especially Derin Terzioglu, for their
feedback, which shaped the first draft of the present chapter. I must acknowledge a UC Da­
vis Academic Senate Small Grant which helped me finance part of the research for this study
which involved a trip to Cairo. 1 am grateful to Amira Ayman, who kindly helped me in Cai­
ro in securing a digital copy of the manuscript that most of this article is based on, and to the
UC Davis Humanities Institute for providing me with a fellowship which allowed me to com­
plete the first draft of this study in the spring of 2016.1 owe special thanks to Derin Terzioglu,
who read that draft and offered invaluable feedback, which led me to reconsider and revise the
framework of the conclusion. I am also indebted to §ükrü Hanioglu for checking my reading of
a handwritten note, to Hossein Modarressi for his generous help in identifying one of the Per­
sian texts in the manuscript of central importance for this study, to Lucia Raggetti, who exam­
ined one of the treatises in the same manuscript, to Mehmet Kalayci, who mailed me a copy of
his book that was not available in American research libraries, and to the anonymous reviewer
who provided comments and suggestions which shaped the final version of the article. I would
like to dedicate this piece to Michael Cook, Class of 1943 University Professor of Near Eastern
Studies at Princeton University, where I was lucky enough to attend several of his seminars, in­
cluding the one on primary sources of Islamic Studies which offered the kind of graduate train­
ing which I recalled with a great deal of appreciation while working on this piece. He has con­
tinued to read my work and provide invaluable advice whenever I sought his help since I left
Princeton, including with this piece, which he was kind enough to read, to correct my reading
or translation of some of the Arabic material, and to ask several important questions about it.
I was not able to address all his questions adequately in the final version; and I am, of course,
responsible for all the remaining shortcomings.
1 A representative -but by no means exhaustive- list would include A. Y. Ocak, ‘XVII. Ytizyilda
Osmanh imparatorlugu’nda dinde tasfiye (püritanizm) teçebbüslerine bir bakiç: ‘Kadizâdeliler
Hareketi” , TiirkKültürü Araçtirmalari, 17-21 (1983), 208-225; N. Ôztürk, ‘Islamic Orthodoxy
188 BAKI TEZCAN

know about Kadizade Mehmed himself, however, has been limited to, mostly, what Kâtip
Çelebi (d. 1657) wrote about him.*23In this study I introduce two letters that Kadizade
wrote himself, in which he provides some further details about his early education and
career in Istanbul. While these autobiographical letters do not contradict what his one-ti­
me student Kâtip Çelebi wrote about him, they do provide some important details, comp­
licating what one perceives from Kâtip Çelebi’s account and also supplying evidence
which supports the important nuances Dina Le Gall and Derin Terzioglu’s studies bro­
ught to the earlier portrayal o f the Kadizadeli - Sivasi conflict as one between ‘ortho­
doxy’ and Sufism. The first and shorter part o f the chapter presents the context o f the let­
ters, the second section focuses on the new biographical details which the letters provide,
the third part concentrates on the authorship o f some political works which, thanks to the­
se letters, can now be safely attributed to Kadizade Mehmed, and the last section articu­
lates some o f the political implications o f these new details for a more nuanced unders­
tanding o f Kadizade and his contemporary and posthumous followers, the Kadizadelis.

The context o f the letters

The letters are not autographs. They are copies included in a mecmua o f the early eighte­
enth century which contains, among other works most o f which are in Arabic, Kadizade
Mehmed’s Turkish treatise on horses: Kitab-i makbul der hal-i huyul? The mecmua, and

Among the Ottomans in the Seventeenth Century - with special reference to the Qâdi-Zade
movement’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University ofEdinburgh, 1981; M. Zilfi, ‘The Ka­
dizadelis: Discordant Revivalism in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul’, Journal o f Near Eastern
Studies, 45 (1986): 251-269; eadem, The Politics o f Piety: The Ottoman Ulema in the Post-
classical Age (1600-1800) (Minneapolis 1988), 97-181; S. Çavujoglu, ‘The Kadizadeli Move­
ment: an Attempt of ÇefTat-Minded Reform in the Ottoman Empire’, unpublished Ph.D. dis­
sertation, Princeton University, 1990; C. Gündogdu, ‘XVII. yüzyilda tekke-medrese münâse-
betleri açismdan Sivâsîler - Kadi-zâdeliler Mücâdelesi’, iLAM Araçtirma Dergisi, 3 (1998),
37-75; D. Terzioglu, ‘Sufi and Dissident in the Ottoman Empire: Niyâzï-i Misrï (1618-1694)’,
unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 1999, 190-276; D. Le Gall, ‘Kadizadelis,
Nakçbendis, and Intra-Sufi Diatribe in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul’, TSAJ, 28 (2004), 1-28;
idem, A Culture o f Sufism: Naqshbandïs in the Ottoman World, 1450-1700 (Albany 2005),
150-156; M. Sariyannis, ‘The Kadizadeli Movement as a Social and Political Phenomenon:
The Rise of a “Mercantile Ethic”?’ in Political Initiatives "From the bottom up" in the Otto­
man Empire: Halcyon Days in Crete VII-A Symposium Held in Rethymno, 9-11 January 2009,
ed. A. Anastasopoulos (Rethymno 2012), 263-289.
2 Kàtib Chelebi, The Balance o f Truth, trans. G. L. Lewis (London 1957), 132-133; idem, Fe-
zleke, 2 vols (Istanbul H.1286-1287/1869-1870), 11:182-183; see also Ibrahim bin Abd al-Baki
Uçakizade, ‘Usaqizade s Lebensbeschreibungen berühmter Gelehrter und Gottesmânner des
Osmanischen Reiches im 17. Jahrhundert (Zeyl-i Saqâ’iq)’, ed. H. J. Kissling (Wiesbaden
1965), 43-45.
3 The copy of the treatise is described in Fihris al-makhtûtât al-turkiyya al- ‘uthmâniyya allatï
iqtanathâ Dâr al-Kutub al-Qcnvmiyya mundhu ‘am 1870 hattâ nihâyat 1980 M, 5 vols (Cai­
ro 1987-1997), 111:296-297 (for a reference to one of the letters, see at 296, n. 1); the mec­
mua is categorised under Turkish mecmuas with the call number 97 MajâmP TurkI TaPat (97
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 189

perhaps its master copy too, must have belonged to Damadzade Ahmed (d. 1741), as a
note on the flyleaf indicates that he had the copy made in 1714, when he was the senior
justice o f the European provinces.*4 Damadzade Ahmed came from a scholar-jurist family.
His father Mustafa (d. 1684), originally from Çankm in northern Anatolia, affiliated him­
self in Istanbul with Çamizade Mehmed, who served as the chief o f the chancery (reisiil-
kiittab) during the 1650s and the early 1660s.5 Mustafa eventually became the senior jus­
tice o f the Asian provinces in 1670-72.6 Ahmed’s maternal grandfather was Minkarizade
Yahya (d. 1678), who was Grand Mufti in 1662-74.7 Ahmed him self and his son Feyzul-
lah were to become Grand Muftis in 1732-33 and 1755-56, respectively.8 In short, the
manuscript belonged to someone well-entrenched in the scholar-jurist aristocracy.
The contents o f Damadzade’s manuscript, which is described on its flyleaf as a col­
lection pertaining to Prophetic traditions,9 have not much to do with Prophetic traditions.
The first piece is Omar Khayyam’s Arabic treatise on existence and responsibility {fawn
w aî-taklïj), which was written in 473/1080-81.101The second one is a Persian work,
Abdullah-i Îlâhî (d. c. 1491)’s Manâzil al-qulüb, which is a commentary on the fifth part
o f the Risâla-i Quds by Ruzbihan al-Baqli (d. 1209).n After two short extracts on two

MTT hereafter) in the Dar al-Kutub al-Qawmiyya, the National Library of Egypt. For a mod­
em Turkish adaptation of this treatise, see Kadxzade Mehmed, Kitab-i Makbul: atalarimizin
gôzüyle at, ed. T. Galip Ser’atli (Istanbul 1986); for the question of authorship, see below,
n. 177. For a short summary of the treatise and a list of several of its manuscripts, see M.
Çen, ‘Baytamameler’, in Turk kültüründe at ve çagdaç atçilik, ed. E. Giirsoy-Naskali (Istanbul
1995), 177-263, at 188-189.
4 “Istaktabahu al-faqîr Ahmad qâdî bi-'asâkir Rüm III kâfa'a Allah la-hu wa-li-aslâfihi wa-
akhlâflhi, sanat 1126”, 97 MTT, f. lia - I would like to thank Çükrii Hanioglu for taking the
time to confirm my reading of this grammatically somewhat problematic note. The pagination
of the manuscript, which I could only examine through a digital copy of its microfilm, is not
perfect. By “flyleaf’, I am referring to the first couple of folios, which I am numbering as I and
II, starting to count the left-hand side of the third manuscript imàge on the microfilm as f. la so
that my pagination is consistent with the pagination of the manuscript in the later folios. The
copy date of H. 1126/1714 is also noted in Fihris al-makhtütât al-turkiyya, 111:297.
5 Ahmed Resmî Efendi, Halifetü’r-rüesa, reprint indexed by R. Ahiskah (Istanbul 1992), 39-40.
6 Uçakizade, ‘Usaqizade’s Lebensbeschreibungen, 515-517.
7 TDVÎA, s.v. ‘Minkârîzâde Yahyâ Efendi’ (M. Ipçirli),
8 TDVÎA, s.v. ‘Damadzâde Ahmed Efendi’ (M. ipçirli); TDVÎA, s.v. ‘Feyzullah Efendi,
Damadzâde’ (M. ipçirli); for other members of the family, see H. Duran, ‘Çankirih bir ulemâ
ailesi: “Damad-zâdeler”’, Çankiri Araçtirmalari Dergisi, 4(2009), 85-90.
9 “Majmü 'a f i ‘ilm al-hadïth wa-ghayrihi,” f. 1a.
10 97 MTT, ff. lb-6a; for an edition and English translation of this treatise, see S. G. Tirtha,
The Nectar o f Grace: ‘Omar Khayyam’s Life and Works, trans. A. Quddus (Allahabad 1941),
lxxxiii-lxxxix, xlv-xlvi, xc-xcix; for a brief assessment of it, see S. H. Nasr, ‘The Poet-Scientist
Khayyam as Philosopher’, in Mélanges Luce Lôpez-Baralt, ed. A. Temimi, 2 vols (Zaghouan
2001), 11:535-553, at 542-543.
11 97 MTT, ff. 7b-23a; described by N.A.M. al-Tirazi, Fihris al-makhtütât alfarisiyya allati
taqtanïhâ Dâr al-Kutub hattâ 'âm 1963, 2 vols (Cairo 1966-67), II: 182, # 2302; this version of
the work has some variations, including the date of composition, which is noted as “awâkhir Ra-
190 BAKI TEZCAN

Prophetic traditions which pertain to the relationship between jurisprudence, principles

o f religion, and mysticism (the “hadith o f Gabriel”), and to invoking blessings on the
Prophet, respectively, the fifth work is Ibn Arabi (d. 1240)’s own list o f his writings.12
Then comes an Arabic treatise on the plague consisting o f selections from Yusuf Ibn Abd
al-Hadi’s (a.k.a. Ibn al-Mibrad, d. 1503) Funün al-munün f i ’l-w abâ’ w a ’l-tà'ün, which
is a collection o f Prophetic traditions on the plague.13 The next two short pieces on me­
dicine, also in Arabic, are those o f the great polymath al-Razi (d. 925): Bur ’ al-sâ 'a and
Risâla f i ’l-nazla.14 The ninth work in the manuscript is a treatise on the properties o f ani­
mals, trees, plants, jewels, minerals, and stones entitled the 'Ayn al-khawâss.15 Finally,

jab, sanat 888 (August-September 1483)” [f. 21b] from the published version, which carries the
date of H.889/1484; compare M. Taqi Danish-pazhuh, ed., Rüzbihân-nâma (Tehran 1347), 64-
66, 387-421, at 420-421 - note the added alif to the chronogram in the published version. While
al-Tirazi attributes the title to al-Baqli and notes that the commentary is that of Abdullah-i ilâhî,
the title is the title of the commentary. The manuscript which the published version is based on is
described by Muhammad Taqi Danish-pazhuh, Fihrist-i mïkrüftlmhâ-yi Kitâbkhâna-i Markazï-i
Dânishgâh-i Tihrân (Tehran 1348), 778-779, #2998.1 am grateful to Hossein Modarressi for his
help in properly identifying this work by locating a copy of it in the Rüzbihân-nâma which I did
not have access to. For Abdullah-i ilâhî, a sheikh from Anatolia who is regarded as the first rep­
resentative of the Nakçibendi order in Ottoman lands, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Abdullah-i ilâhî’ (M. Ka­
ra and H. Algar), 1:110-112; for Ruzbihan al-Baqli, see C. W. Ernst, Rüzbihân Baqlî: Mysticism
and the Rhetoric o f Sainthood in Persian Sufism (Richmond 1996).
12 See 97 MTT, f. 24 for the two extracts (ff. 23b and 25 are blank), and ff. 25b-31a for Ibn Ara-
bi’s list of his own works. The source of the extracts, which are anonymous in the manuscript,
could be Abd al-Wahhab al-Subki (d. 1370)’s Tabaqât al-shâfi'iyya al-kubrâ, eds. Mahmud
Muhammad al-Tanahi and Abd al-Fattah Muhammad al-Hilw, 10 vols (Cairo 1964-1976),
1:117-118, 180-181. Ibn Arabi’s list is probably another copy of the one which Ibn Arabi com­
posed for Sadr al-Din al-Qunawi (d. 1273); see J. Clark and S. Hirtenstein, ‘Establishing Ibn
'Arabi’s Heritage: First findings from the MIAS Archiving Project’, Journal o f the Muhyiddin
Ibn 'Arabi Society, 52 (2012), 1-32, at 1, n. 2.
13 97 MTT, ff. 3 lb-3 5a; a complete copy of this treatise is to be found at the Topkapi Palace Lib­
rary; see F. E. Karatay and O. Reçer, Topkapi Sarayi Müzesi Kütüphanesi Arapça Yazmalar Ka-
talogu, 4 vols (Istanbul 1962-1969), 11:254, # 3026; see also Kâtib Çelebi, Keçf-el-zunun, eds
§. Yaltkaya and K. R. Bilge, 2 vols (Istanbul 1941-1943), 11:1292; on the author, see TDVlA s.v.
Tbnü’l-Mibred’ (F. Koca).
14 97 MTT, ff. 36b-39a, and 39b-41b, respectively. For the former, see al-Razi, ‘Kitab bur’ al-
sâ'a’, ed. Duktur Gig [Paul Guigues] al-Mashriq, 6 (1903), 395-402. I could not identify an
edition of the latter, which seems to be a copy of a letter al-Razi wrote in response to a ques­
tion he received from Shahid bin al-Husayn al-Balkhi about a malady of Abu Zayd Ahmad bin
Sahl al-Balkhi (d. 934), another great physician; see TDViA s.v. ‘Râzî, Ebû Bekir’ (M. Kaya);
TDVÎA s.v. ‘Belhî, EbûZeyd’ (i. Kutluer).
15 97 MTT, ff. 42b-49a (f. 42a is blank). While the author is mentioned in the manuscript as Naw
Asghar bin Rustam, I could not identify this person. Kâtip Çelebi attributes this title, which he
does not seem to have seen as he does not provide any information on it, to a certain al-Dayl-
ami, see Ke$f-el-zunun, II: 1182. M. al-Damiri (d. 1405) refers to al-Daylami’s 'Ayn al-khawâss
in his Hayât al-hayawân (A Zoological Lexicon), trans. A. S. G. Jayakar, Vol. 2, part I (Lon­
don 1908), 171, 209. Lucia Raggetti, a scholar of medieval science in Arabic, kindly examined
the first section of the treatise devoted to animals and also identified additional references by
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 191

the last piece before Kadizade’s writings is an anonymous page-long report in Turkish on
good and inauspicious marks on horses.16
In short, Damadzade Ahmed (and the owner o f the master copy o f this manuscript or
the receiver o f the copy which Damadzade had made) seems to have been interested in
such things as philosophy, mysticism, medicine, the natural world, and horses. It is clear­
ly these wide-ranging interests which must have attracted the owner(s) to Kadizade’s
Turkish treatise on horses, which is the last piece in the manuscript.17 It is preceded by
the endorsement (takriz) o f the Grand Mufti Esad and a title page recording the name of
the work, its presentation to Osman II (r. 1618-22), who was known to have been fond
o f horses, and the name and the occupation o f the author.18 The two autobiographical
letters o f Kadizade are copied immediately before the preface.19 What is at first sight
rather surprising is to find Kadizade in the company o f philosophers and Sufis, especially
Ibn Arabi, whom Kadizadelis are well known to have regarded as an infidel.20 As will be
shown in this study, however, Kadizade him self seems to have had mixed feelings about
him in his twenties.
Kadizade’s letters are addressed to Hocazade Mehmed, who served as Grand Mufti in
1601-03, and then again from June 1608 until his death in July 1615. One o f the biograp­
hical details provided by Kadizade him self suggests that he could not have written these
letters before 1609 and another one makes it more likely that he wrote them after 1611 ;21
so we can date them roughly to the first half o f 1610s. While the letters themselves are
in Arabic, they are introduced by statements in Turkish which were originally written by
Kadizade M ehmed him self - perhaps as titles in his letter collection or private papers.22
The introduction o f the first letter reads:

al-Damiri to the work of al-Daylami. According to her analysis, the treatise in this manuscript
is not identical to the 'Ayn al-khawâss referred to in the Hayât al-hayawân, although there are
some resemblances. Thus she suggests that the treatise in the manuscript may be an abridge­
ment of al-Daylami’s work, or an adaptation. Her conclusion is that the available evidence does
not lend itself to a definitive conclusion about the question of whether Naw Asghar bin Rustam
may be the same person as al-Daylami. I am deeply grateful to Dr Raggetti for examining the
treatise with such care.
16 97 MTT, f. 49b (f. 50a is blank); another copy of this short notice seems to be found in Stiley-
maniye Kütüphanesi, Esad Efendi 3695, ff. 123b-124a, where it precedes a copy of Kadizade’s
treatise on horses; see $en, 208, #44.
17 97 MTT, ff. 57b-76a.
18 97 MTT, ff. 56b-57a, the latter page is also to be found in another copy of the Kitab-i makbul;
see Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Kadizade Mehmed 420 (possibly an autograph), f. la. For Os­
man IEs interest in horses, see B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire: Political and Social
Transformation in the Early Modern World (New York 2010), 118-19.
19 97 MTT, ff. 50b-55b (f. 56a is left blank).
20 Ôztürk, ‘Islamic orthodoxy’, 401-404.
21 See p. 204 below.
22 Kadizade must have had some private papers which had some limited circulation as attested by
the copy of his record of a dream he had on 2 December 1629; see Forschungsbibliothek Go­
tha, Ms. orient. T 17, lb-2b.
192 BAKI TEZCAN

This letter was written and sent when we heard that mischievous enviers were talking nonsen­
se with invention of lies to the late and praiseworthy Mufti Mehmed Efendi in order to make
him hate this well-wisher of his.23

Right after this statement in Turkish, Kadizade’s first letter starts with an invocation
o f God and four citations from the Q ur’an:24

O you who believe, if a dissolute person brings some news, verity it first lest you attack a peo­
ple ignorantly and later regret what you had done [Qur’an, 49:6].
... and (when) you said what you did not know, and took it lightly - though in the sight of God
it was serious - Why did you not say when you heard it: “ft is not for us to speak of it; God
preserve us, it is a great slander”? God counsels you not to do a thing like this... [Qur’an, from
24:15-17]
Do not follow that of which you have no knowledge... [Qur’an, from 17:36]
Do not heed a contemptible swearer, or backbiter, calumniator, slanderer [Qur’an, 68:10-11],

Kadtzade then paraphrases al-Ghazali’s (d. 1111) discussion o f slander from the third
volume o f the Revival o f Religious Sciences by stating that scholars had laid down six
concerns which someone to whom slanderous remarks about someone else is communi­
cated is obliged to have. First, he should not believe the slanderer as the latter is a sinner.
Second, he should forbid him to slander people and denounce his action in accordance
with God’s words: “bid what is known to be right and forbid what is wrong (Q ur’an, from
31:17)”. Third, he should hate him for God’s sake because he is defying God. Fourth,
he should not suspect the absent and slandered man o f evil as God demands one to
“avoid m ost suspicions (Q ur’an, from 49:12)”. Fifth, he should not try to gain informa­
tion about the facts o f the matter as God states: “do not pry into others’ secrets (Q ur’an,
from 49:12)” . And, finally, he should not relate his slander to others as he would then
become a slanderer himself.25
After relating two anecdotes from al-Ghazali’s chapter on slander in an abbreviated
fashion,26 Kadxzade amends a third anecdote to better suit his needs. Al-Ghazali relates
a story about the Umayyad Caliph Sulayman (r. 715-17) in which Sulayman asserts to
someone who came to him that he had heard that the latter spoke negatively about him.

23 “Merhûm ve mebrur Mtifti Mehmed Efendi’ye bu dailerini tebgiz içün hussad-i fesad ihtira-i
mixfteriyat idixb türrehat soyledikleri mesmumuz oldukda bu varaka ketb olunub irsal olunmuç-
di”, 97 MTT, f. 50b.
24 Ibid., The English translations of the Qur’anic verses quoted by Kadizade Mehmed are based
on A l-Qur ’an, rev. trans. A. Ali (Princeton 2001) throughout this chapter.
25 See al-Ghazali, Revival o f Religious Sciences, trans. M. M. al-Sharif, 4 vols (Beirut 2011),
111:257-58; my paraphrase in this paragraph is based on Kadizade’s Arabic text, reproduced in
the appendix to this chapter with references to the Arabic text of al-Ghazali.
26 These are the ones on a sage visited by one of his brethren who gave him news about one of
his friends and the response of Ali (the fourth Caliph, the cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet)
to someone who carried slanderous news about someone else; see al-Ghazali, Revival o f Reli­
gious Sciences, 111:258-259, and the appendix of this chapter.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 193

The man rejects the Caliph’s allegation. Then the Caliph states that the man he heard it
from is a truthful person. Al-Zuhri (d. 742), a well-known scholar who happened to be
in the presence o f the Caliph, states that a slanderer would not be truthful. The Caliph
agrees with al-Zuhri and tells the man to leave in peace.27 Kadizade substitutes al-Zuhri
for the well-known early Hanafi jurist Abu Yusuf (d. 798), thus moving the story to Ab-
basid times, does not name the Caliph, and edits the unnamed man who comes into the
presence o f the Caliph out o f the story.28 The revised version starts with an anonymous
man slandering Abu Yusuf to the Caliph, who could be imagined as Harun al-Rashid (r.
786-809). The Caliph tells Abu Yusuf: “you said such and such”. Abu Yusuf responds: “I
did not say that”. The Caliph asserts that a trustworthy man reported it to him. When Abu
Yusuf reminds the Caliph that a slanderer would not be trustworthy, the Caliph agrees
and resents the slanderer.29 Clearly, Kadizade would like to be compared to Abu Yusuf
and hopes that the Grand Mufti will act like the Abbasid Caliph in his story, which he
attributes to al-Ghazali.30
Then Kadizade inserts two couplets o f Arabic and 14 couplets o f Persian verse, which
he adapts -w ithout acknow ledgm ent- from one o f the poems o f al-Nabigha (d. c. 604),
and the first and seventh chapters o f Sadi (d. 1291)’s Boston:31

I swore—and I left no doubt in your mind

and a man has no pursuit beyond God.
Surely, if you had been informed of crime on my part,
then your embroidering informant was indeed false and lying.32

Beware that you hear not the speech of the designing man;
Because, if you set to work (on his speech), you will repent.
An enemy, whom my position disgraced,
It is necessary to fly from his deceit to the distance of a league

27 Ibid., 111:258-259.
28 On al-Zuhri and Abu Yusuf, see TDVIA s.v. ‘Zührî’ (H. Ôzkan); and TDVÎA s.v. ‘Ebû Yûsuf’
(S. Ôgüt); respectively.
29 97MTT, f. 50b.
30 While there is the remote possibility that the copy of the Revival manuscript Kadizade used in­
cluded this version of the story, I find it rather unlikely. Kadizade seems to have decided to skip
the original version of this story at first as the anecdote about Ali, which he relates before this
story, actually comes after it in al-Ghazali’s chapter on slander; compare Revival o f Religious
Sciences, 01:258-259. It is also quite likely that Kadizade was not using an actual manuscript
of the Revival but instead writing from memory.
31 All of the following poetry is skipped in the other copy of the letter (A 2688, 62b), which I in­
troduce below; see n. 41 and the appendix.
32 Keeping in mind the variants in Kadizade’s version of the distichs (see the appendix of this
study), I have adapted this translation from A. J. Arberry, Arabic Poetry: A Primer for Stu­
dents (London 1965), 34, lines 3-4; note that his Arabic edition (35) has a variant in the first
line of the second distich when compared with a more recent critical edition (see the appen­
dix).
194 BAKI TEZCAN

But, I fear not the king’s wrath;

For an innocent one is bold in his speech.
If the inspector of measures seizes, there is sorrow to that one
whose weight of the standard balance-weight is deficient.
When words flow correctly from my pen,
What fear have I of the word-seizers?
Oh, the lucky one! That is not my form,
but the pencil is in the hand of the enemy.
Since the skirt (of my garment) is free from (the stain of) crime,
I fear not the malignity of the evil-intent one.
The faithful one is a basin, and the evil-intent one an ant;
The ant cannot make a breach in the basin by force.
In like manner I have a good name; but,
For his own interests, the evil-intent one speaks not good (of me).33

Whosoever tells to you “so and so is a bad man”;

Know this much, that he is slandering himself.
For (while) it is necessary to prove that one’s bad deed,
(This one’s) evil is made manifest by this act.
In the act of breathing (speaking) ill of mankind,
Even if you speak truth, you are bad.
A person let loose his tongue in slander;
A sagacious and eminent one spoke to him:
“In speaking of people, malign them not before me;
Make me not suspicious of yourself’.34

The Q ur’anic citations, the story o f Abu Yusuf and the Abbasid caliph, and the Arabic
and Persian couplets all lead the reader to anticipate that Kadizade is going to defend
him self against some allegations in this letter. We finally read about these allegations
after a page and a half:

I hear from my friends that people say about me that “he reviles the Greatest Sheikh [i.e., Ibn
Arabi] and denies the saints”. I am free from both (of these charges) because reviling someone
is among the acts of fools and the denial of truth among the distinguishing marks of the igno­
rant. God the Sublime already blessed me -praise be to God!- with that which is necessary
from the Arabic (linguistic) and rational sciences and religious and legal knowledge for me
to distinguish between healthy and sick, strong and weak, and the erroneous and the correct.

33 97 MMT, 50b-51a; Kolliyât-e Sa ‘dî, ed. M. Ali Faroghi, (Tehran 1379 [7th printing]), 196, 195,
194, 192, 195; keeping in mind Kadizade’s version of the verses (see the appendix), I have
adapted this translation from H. Wilberforce Clarke, The Büstân by Shaikh Muslihuddin Sa ‘di
Shîrâzî (London 1879), 52 (verse 247), 49-50 (verses 222-225), 49 (verse 219), 48 (verse 202),
44 (verse 160), 49 (verse 221 ); and Ziauddin Gulam Moheddin Munshi, The Boston o f Shaikh
Sadi, rev. R. Davies (Bombay 1889), 34 (verse 33), 32 (verses 7-8, 11, 9, 4), 31 (verse 76), 28
(verse 34), 32 (verse 6).
34 97 MTT, 51a; Kolliyât-e Sa'di, 319-320; the translation is adapted from Clarke, The Büstân,
314 (verses 136-40), and Munshi, The Boston, 210 (verses 3-5), 211 (verses 3-4), keeping in
mind Kadizade’s version of the verses (see the appendix).
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 195

In the next part o f the first letter Kadizade lists some o f the books he had studied in
order to impress upon the Grand Mufti that he is neither a fool nor an ignorant man, but a
well-read scholar.35 He ends this brief bibliography by stating that earlier he had also read
Ibn Arabi’s al-Futühât al-Makkiyya and wrote down parts o f it in a mecmua o f his own.
However, in 1014/1605-6, he came across four books which created a great ambivalence
in his heart about Ibn Arabi because they included hundreds o f fatwas against him.36
Thus he related what he had read to some contemporary scholars, who instructed him to
suspend judgem ent about Ibn Arabi. Kadizade states that he followed their instructions
and stopped mentioning him after that time. And yet what he related about the things he
had read about Ibn Arabi became known among the people. So his enemies traced these
back to him and rushed to grandees to take revenge on him with their complaints.
Kadizade concludes by declaring that on the Day o f Judgment it will become clear
who is truthful and who is a liar. He does not state anything but the truth. Yet the truth is
bitter, whereas falsehood is sweet. All that the slanderers could do to him are three things,
which happen to correspond to the same three that Bahaeddinzade Muhyiddin Mehmed
(d. 952/1545-6), who happens to be the paternal cousin o f Birgivî’s (d. 1573) father Pir
Ali, listed as things that could happen to him when he was warned by his friends to stop
his criticism o f Ibrahim Pasha, the Grand Vizier o f Siileyman the Magnificent: an unjust
execution, which would make him a martyr; imprisonment would mean seclusion and
solitude, which are his way (tarïqa); and exile, which would be emigration (hijra), the
sunna o f the prophets.37 Either way, he would be rewarded, as he is firm on the upright
truth and the straight path, observing the book o f God, the Sunna o f the Prophet, and the
sayings o f the mujtahid jurists. He finishes his letter with two citations, the first from the
Q ur’an and the second from al-Ghazali’s Revival.

And the oppressors will come to know through what reversals they will be overthrown!38
Imam al-Shafii (may God the Most High have mercy on him) said: “Among the people of rea­
son, knowledge [builds] an unceasing kinship”. Therefore I do not understand how a commu­
nity, among whom knowledge has become [the source of] a sharp enmity, claims to emulate
the predecessors!39

We do not know whether or not Kadizade had really stopped talking about Ibn Arabi.
The complaints about him definitely did not. In the Turkish introduction to his second
letter, Kadizade states that he wrote it when the Grand Mufti heard false rumours about

35 97 MTT,f. 51.
36 I will introduce these books in the next section of the chapter; see n. 139ff.
37 Taçkôprüzade, al-Shaqâ’iq al-nu'mâniyya fX ‘ulamâ’ al-dawla al-‘uthmâniyya (Beirut 1975),
260. On the well-known scholar Birgivî, who had a major impact on Kadizade and his follo­
wers, see H. Marti, Birgivî Mehmed Efendi: hayati, eserleri vefikir dünyasi (Ankara 2008).
38 From the Qur’an, 26:227.
39 My translation is a modified version of the one in Revival, 1:91. Kadizade changed al-Ghaza­
li’s original “to emulate his way (madhhabihi)”, which would refer to the Shafii school, to “to
emulate the predecessors (al-salaff’, also al-Ghazali has it as “the people of virtue and reason”
rather than “the people of reason”; compare Ihyâ ’, 1:41.
196 BAKI TEZCAN

him again.40 In short, one could regard these two letters as Kadizade M ehmed’s defence
against allegations o f reviling Ibn Arabi which were brought to the attention o f the Grand
Mufti Mehmed, probably in the early 1610s. Not surprisingly, the only other copy o f the
letters I was able to identify was named the ‘Defence o f Kadizade’ by the cataloguers
o f the National Library o f Turkey.41 This second copy o f Kadizade’s letters are in the
company o f an extract from Seyhzade (d. 1543)’s haçiye on Baydawi’s exegesis (Q ur’an,
5:1-25),42 Nabî (d. 1712)’s mesnevi entitled Hayrâbad,43 Kemalpaçazade (d. 1534)’s
treatise on the faith o f the Pharaoh,44 Mustafa bin Ebu Bekir (d. 1240/1824-5)’s Per­
sian grammar in Arabic, al-Mafatih al-durriya,45 Ali Ferdi bin M ustafa (d. 1127/1715)’s
Arabic commentary on Tuhfe-i §ahidî, which is a Persian-Turkish dictionary in verse by
Ibrahim Çahidî (d. 1550),46 an Arabic treatise by one o f Birgivî (d. 1573)’s students on
supererogatory prayers,47 Abu al-Jaysh al-Ansari al-Andalusi (d. 549/1154-5)’s short and
very popular treatise on prosody in Arabic,48 and Hüdayî (d. 1628)’s Arabic treatise on
the love o f God, the Prophet, and his family, Habbat al-mahabba,49 not to mention other

40 For the first letter, see 97 MTT, 50b-52a; compare A 2688, 62b-63a; for the second letter, see
97 MTT 52a-55b; compare A 2688, 63a-64a, which does not include the end of the second let­
ter, as will be discussed below; see n. 41 and the appendix.
41 See ‘Risale-i Müdafaa-yi Kadizade’, Milli Kütüphane, A 2688 [A 2688 hereafter], 62b-64a. The
actual title in the manuscript reads “Risâla mansüba li-Ibn al-Qadt, rahimahu Allah”, f. 62b.
42 A 2688, 3b-28b; compare Çeyhzade, Hâshïyat Shaykhzâda 'alâ tafsïr al-qâçtï al-Baydâwï, 4
vols (Istanbul 1988-1991 [reprint of the 1306 Istanbul ed.]), 11:187-207; on the author, see
TDVÎA s.v. ‘Çeyhzâde’ (E. Baç).
43 A 2688, 34b-56a; this copy of the mesnevi does not include the invocation and dedication sec­
tions and thus starts with the reason of the composition; compare S. Ülger, ‘Nabi - Hayrabad:
inceleme - Metin’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Yüzüncü Yil Üniversitesi, 1996, 82-145 (the part
that is skipped in the manuscript), 145-337.
44 A 2688, 67a-b; on the author and his works, see TDVIA s.v. ‘Kemalpaçazâde’ (§. Turan, Ç.
Ôzen, i. Çelebi, M. A. Y. Saraç).
45 A 2688, 68b-77b; compare Mustafa Ibn Abu Bakr al-Sivasi, Mafdtih al-Durriya f i ithbât al-
qawânïn al-dariyya (Bulaq, 1242); on the author, see Bagdath Ismail Paça, Hadiyyat al- ‘Ârifîn,
Asmâ’al-Mu’allifln vaÂsâr al-Musannifîn, eds K. R. Bilge and Î. M. K. Inal, 2 vols (Istanbul
1951-1955), 11:455.
46 A 2688, 80b-85b; on the author, see Bagdath Ismail Paça, Hadiyyat al-'Ârifîn, 767; on the
work commented upon, see Muglah §âhidî Ibrahim Dede, Tuhfe-i Çâhidî: Farsça-Türkçe man-
zum sôzlük, ed. A. H. imamoglu (Mugla 2005); see also Y. Ôz, Tuhfe-i §âhidî §erhleri (Konya
1999), 102-104. Ôz used this very copy of the work to date its composition, but I believe he is
mistaken in assuming the date of the copy to be the date of the composition.
47 A 2688, 85b-87a; one could probably call it “wazâ’if nawâfil al-'ibâdàt” after the introducto­
ry sentence; see [N.] Atsiz, Istanbul Kütüphanelerine gore Birgili Mehmet Efendi (929-981 =
1523-1573) Bibliyografyasi (Istanbul 1966), 39, # 15; compare A. Kayli, ‘A Critical Study of
Birgivi Mehmed Efendi’s (d. 981/1573) Works and their Dissemination in Manuscript Form’,
unpublished M.A. thesis, Bogaziçi University, 2010, 108.
48 A2688, 90b-94a; Kâtib Çelebi, Ke$f-el-zunun, 11:1135.
49 A 2688, 96a-103a; this treatise was translated into Turkish by A. Remzi ([Akytirek], d. 1944)
and published by R. Deniz as Mahbûbu’l-ehibbe: Sevenlerin sevgilisi (Kayseri 1982); see
TDVIA s.v. ‘Aziz Mahmud Hüdâyî’ (H. K. Ydmaz).
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 197

shorter extracts and notes. The only nineteenth-century work in the collection, al-Mafatih
al-durriya, is copied by a different hand in a fascicle which could have been bound with
the rest o f the manuscript at a later time.50 More important, the copy date o f Ali Ferdi’s
commentary on Tuhfe-i §ahidî is 3 April 1731 (25 Ramadan 1143).51 Therefore, this copy
o f Kadizade’s letters may also be dated to the first half o f the eighteenth century, although
a more detailed examination o f the manuscript and the different hands involved in copy­
ing it is necessary to ascertain this.
Regardless o f its copy date, this second manuscript represents a different reading
community from the first one. Instead o f philosophy and the sciences, mysticism is cou­
pled with a treatise o f Kemalpaçazade which could be cited to support the Kadizadelis in
one o f their debating points with the followers o f Sivasî,S2 and another one by a student of
Birgivî, who is justifiably regarded as the intellectual founding father o f the Kadizadelis.
Not surprisingly, therefore, one notices some variants in the copies o f Kadizade’s letters
which are to be found in these two manuscripts some o f which relate to skipped pieces of
poetry while others are more significant, as will be pointed out below.53

The first three decades o f Kadizade’s life

At the beginning o f his second letter, Kadizade states his full name as “Çeyh Mehmed bin
Mustafa bin Ilyas” and adds that his father was a judge resident in Balikesir and known
as Doganzade. And, apparently, it was his father who named him “Çeyh Mehmed”, thus
the designation ‘sheikh’ in his case appears to be part o f his name rather than his title.
He also provides his date o f birth as the first Friday night o f the month o f Rajab in 990,
the year o f which was apparently recorded by his father with a chronogram, mahdum-i
mükerrem, or “revered son” - this date corresponds to a day in late July 15 82.54 His first
teacher was one o f the students o f Birgivî, a certain Sheikh Alaeddin, who taught him the
Q ur’an, the Muslim articles o f faith (or akaid), and grammar.
Kâtip Çelebi’s account o f Kadizade’s biography jumps from this point to Kadizade’s
arrival in Istanbul to become a student o f Dursunzade, which does not help us much with
a chronology. It also creates the impression that Kadizade’s early life was dominated by
the students o f Birgivî, a master with quite a revivalist reputation. Kadizade has a few
more details that help us both establish his approximate time o f arrival in Istanbul and
also bring some nuances to his early education.

50 In A 2688, ff. 68a-78b seem to constitute a fascicle, but my impression is based on the digital
images of the manuscript and should be confirmed by an examination of the actual copy.
51 A 2688, 85b.
52 On this point of the debate, see Kâtib Chelebi, 75-79; on Kemalpaçazade’s view, see TDViA
s.v. ‘Firavun’ (Ô. F. Harman and M. Uzun).
53 A detailed comparison of the two manuscripts in their representation of the first letter is to be
found in the appendix of this study. As for the variants in the second letter, see below n. 138.
54 97 MTT, 52a; the numerical values of the Arabic letters in which one writes the expression
mahdûm-i mükerrem with add up to 990 (40+600+4+6+40+40+20+200+40). The exact date
could be either the night of July 19-20 or 26-27.
198 BAKITEZCAN

Kadizade states that he continued to study grammar under a certain Kadi Halil and
a certain Miiderris Ibrahim. Then he notes that he studied the Kitâb al-daw ’ under a
certain Kadi Abdurrahman, which must refer to al-lsfarayini (d. 1285)’s commentary
on al-Misbah f i al-nahw o f Nasir al-Mutarrizi (d. 1213),55 a book on Arabic grammar.
Next comes the “Book o f Sadr al-Sharia”, which must refer to the commentary by Sadr
al-Sharia the Second (d. 1346) on the work o f his grandfather, the Wiqâyat al-riwâya
f i masâ ’il al-Hidâya by Burhan al-Sharia, which is, in turn, a work that relates to al-
Marghinani (d. 1197)’s al-Hidâya, a teaching manual on Hanafi jurisprudence that was
part o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum.56 This happens to be one o f the titles that Kâtip
Çelebi notes that Kadizade taught at the mosque o f Murad Pasha in Istanbul.5758Appar­
ently Kadizade had studied it in Balikesir under a certain Kadi Muslihuddin. The first
o f the last couple o f books he studied in his home town was the Mukhtasar Isâghüjï,
that is the “Summary o f Isagoge”, a text on logic the origins o f which go back to the
third-century Neoplatonic philosopher Porphyry from Italy, who wrote the Isagoge as
an introduction to Aristotle’s Categories. Kadizade must have read its thirteenth-century
reworking by al-Abhari, which was read in many medreses.51, He also read Husam al-Din
Hasan al-Kati (d. c. 1359)’s commentary on al-Abhari’s study o f logic.59 He studied these
two texts under Mufti Lutfullah, who is the last person he names among his teachers in
Balikesir and the first one I was able to identify with any certainty in his biography. Atayî
has a short entry for Lutfullah, who was appointed to teach at the madrasa o f Balikesir
and to act as the mufti o f the city around 1591 -92 and died there in September or October
o f 1600.60 Thus Kadizade must have left Balikesir at the latest by 1600. The names o f
those he studied with in Istanbul and their appointment dates, which will be touched upon
below, suggest that he actually arrived there a little earlier in the middle o f the last decade
o f the sixteenth century while he was still a teenager.

55 Muhammad ibn Muhammad Isfarayini, Al-Sharh al-nâfi ' al-misrâh al-musammâ bi-Daw ’ al-
misbâh ([India:] al-Matbaah al-Ahmadiyah 1262); on al-Mutarrizi, see TDVIA s.v. ‘Mutarrizf
(M. S. Çôgenli).
56 On the author, his family, and his work, see TDVIA s.v. ‘Sadrüççeria’ (Ç. Ôzen). For the place
of al-Marghinani (d. 1197)’s al-Hidâya in the Ottoman medrese curriculum, see S. A. and N.
Filipovic, ‘The Sultan’s Syllabus: A Curriculum for the Ottoman Imperial medreses prescribed
in a fermân of Qanûnïl Süleymân, Dated 973 (1565)’, Studia Islamica, 98-99(2004), 183-218,
202; for the use of Wiqâya in Ottoman medreses, see i. H. Uzunçarçih, Osmanli devletinin il-
miye tefjkilati (Ankara 1965), 29-30.
57 Kâtib Çelebi, Fezleke, 2 vols (Istanbul 1286-1287), II: 182.
58 On the Isagoge and the many texts and commentaries on logic inspired by it in the Islamic
world, see TDVIA s.v. ‘Îsâgücî’ (A. Bingol); on al-Abhari, see TDVIA s.v. ‘Ebherî, Esîrüddîn’
(A. Bingol). For the use of Abhari’s work in Ottoman medreses, see Uzunçarçili, Osmanli dev­
letinin, 21, 30-31.
59 Husam al-Din Hasan al-Kati, Shark kitab Isâghüjïfï ‘ilm al-mantiq lil-Imâm Athïr al-Dïn al-
Abharîal-mutawaffa sanat 663 H (Amman 2013); Uzunçarçih, Osmanli devletinin, 31.
60 Nevîzade Atayî (d. 1635), Hadâi 'ku'l-Hakâi ’k f i Tekmïletü’ffia k â ’ilc, 2 vols in one (Istanbul
H. 1268/1852), reprinted with indices in A. Ôzcan, ed., §akaik-i N u’maniye ve Zeyilleri, 5 vols
(Istanbul 1989), Vol. 2 [hereafter Atayî], 442.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 199

It is important to note that Kadizade’s early education seems to have been quite in
the mainstream o f an Ottoman Hanafi education, both in terms o f the texts he studied
and the people he studied them under. These texts are related to the Ottoman madrasa
curriculum, and most o f his teachers are judges or professors, with the exception o f the
first one, the student o f Birgivi, who is depicted as a sheikh. This self-portrayal is quite
different from the portrait drawn by Kâtip Çelebi, who depicted Kadizade’s education in
Bahkesir in these words:

Having acquired the rudiments of knowledge in his native town, from the disciples of Birgili
Mehmed Efendi, he came to Istanbul and became a student-instructor under the teacher Tur-
sunzade.61

Kadizade also provides additional details about his early life in Istanbul. He states
that he moved there after the death o f his father in order to seek a career in the judiciary.
He adds that even though his father had set him up as a çavu.% an administrative-military
rank, he terminated that and entered on the course o f a scholarly career.6263This interest­
ing detail, coupled with the family name o f his father, Doganzade (falcon-son), might
suggest that Kadizade’s paternal ancestors might have included a falconer with a palace
connection which his father must have had recourse to in order to secure a çavuç career
for his son. So it is quite possible for Kadizade’s grandfather to have been a devoirme!'-'
In Istanbul Kadizade first worked with a certain Miiderris Muslihuddin, who might be
the same person he mentioned earlier in Bahkesir as Kadi Muslihuddin, as some small­
town judges went back to teaching for advancement in their later judicial careers. After
teaching him some al-IIidaya, the above-mentioned text o f Hanafi jurisprudence which
was an essential part o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum, Muslihuddin sent him to anot­
her miiderris, a certain Yusuf. Then Dursunzade Abdiilbaki took Kadizade under his wing
for the sake o f the friendship he had with his father. This identification corrects a mistake
that seems to have entered the scholarship through some Kâtip Çelebi manuscripts in
which the Dursunzade in Kadizade’s biography is identified with Abdiilbaki’s brother
Abdullah.64 While Dursunzade Abdiilbaki’s career is well documented by Atayî, it is dif­
ficult to date when Kadizade started studying under him. Dursunzade was teaching in Is­
tanbul until August 1593, after which he moved to different cities, probably coming back
to Istanbul in between his appointments and during his judgeship in Oskiidar in 1597-
98.65 Kadizade lists three titles which he studied with him: Mukhtasar al-talkhïs, which

61 Katib Chelebi, The Balance o f Truth, 132.

62 97MTT, 52b.
63 Incidentally, Ahmed Rumî, another revivalist like Kadizade, was a recent convert to Islam; see
Y. Michot, L 'opium et le café: edition et traduction d ’un texte arabe anonyme, précédées d ’une
premiere exploration de l'opiophagie Ottomane et accompagnées d ’une anthologie (Beyrouth
2008), 54.
64 See, for instance, Kâtip Çelebi, Mîzanü ’l-hakkfi ihtiyari ’l-ahakk (En dogruyu seçmek için hak
terazisi), ed. O. Ç. Gôkyay (Istanbul 1980), 111; compare, Lewis, 132.
65 Atayî, 513-514.
200 BAKI TEZCAN

is probably Sad al-Din al-Taftazani (d. 1390)’s summary o f his own commentary on
Khatib al-Qazwini (d. 1338)’s summary o f the third part o f the Miftâh al- ‘ulüm by Abu
Yaqub al-Sakkaki (d. 1229) on rhetoric - also part o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum;66
Abd al-Rahman Jami (d. 1492)’s well-known work on Arabic grammar, al-Faw â’id al-
diya ’iyya, which was also in the reading lists o f the Ottoman madrasas;67 and a large
part o f the Tafsïr al-Qâdi, which must refer to Baydawi (d. 1286)’s commentary on the
Q ur’an, another standard work in the Ottoman madrasa curriculum.68
Another professor Kadizade studied with was Yusuf, better known as Arab Sinan.
With him he read al-Mutawwal, which must be al-Taftazani’s above-mentioned commen­
tary the summary o f which he had read with Dursunzade - a must read in the Ottoman
madrasa curriculum,69 and the Shark a l-'a q d ’id, most probably Dawwani (d. 1502)’s
commentary on ‘Adud al-Din al-Iji (d. 1355)’s work on theology, also to be found in
the reading lists o f Ottoman madrasas.70 Kadizade must have studied under Arab Sinan
in 1600 while the latter was teaching at the Sahn-i Seman in Istanbul as he had appoint­
ments in different cities both before and after this date.71
Kadizade also lists al-Tawdlh, which must refer to al-Tawdîh f i hall ghawâmid al-
Tanqih by the above-mentioned Sadr al-Sharia the Second (d. 1346), “a commentary on
the author’s own work on Hanafi jurisprudence entitled al-Tanqîh f î al-usül" ,72 He stu­
died this book, which was also part o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum, under a certain
Mullah Abdullah.73 He read the Sharh al-Manar, a commentary on al-Nasafi (d. 1310)’s
Manâr al-anwâr, a work on legal theory that was also part o f the Ottoman medrese
curriculum,74 under Kadi Abdillcabbar. Kadizade also notes that he attended the study
assembly (majlis dars) o f Mullah Ibrahim, whom he identifies as the “mudarris o f the

66 On al-Taftazani and his work, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Teftâzânî’ (Ç. Ôzen), 299-308; for the signifi­
cant place of his work and the Miftâh al- 'ulüm in Ottoman medreses, see Uzunçarçih, Osmanli
Devletinin, 21, 27; on al-Sakkaki, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Sekkâkî, Ebû Ya‘küb’ (î. Durmuç); and on
al-Qazwini, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Kazvînî, Hatîb’ (i. Durmuç).
67 On Jami, seeE. Ôkten, ‘Jâmï (H.817-898/1414-1492): his Biography and Intellectual Influence
in Herat’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 2007; for the use of his work
on grammar in Ottoman medreses, see Uzunçarçili, Osmanli devletinin, 30.
68 Ahmed and Filipovic, ‘The Sultan’s Syllabus’, 197-198.
69 Uzunçarçih, Osmanli devletinin, 13, 21,26, 30, 39.
70 On Dawwani, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Devvânî’ (H. Anay); on al-Iji’s theological work and its im­
portance in the Ottoman medrese curriculum, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘el-Akaidü’l-Adudiyye’ (Y.
Ç.Yavuz), 11:216; see also Uzunçarçih, 23.
71 Atayî, 536.
72 Ahmed and Filipovic, ‘The Sultan’s Syllabus’, 205.
73 There are several Abdullahs who could be this person, see the index of Atayî, 1. I have re­
frained from attempts at identification of the names mentioned by Kadizade unless I could
safely narrow down the possibilities to one person.
74 For the author, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Nesefi, Ebü’l-Berekât’ (M. Bedir); for the many commentaries
on his work in Ottoman medreses, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Menârü’l-envâr’ (F. Koca); see also Uzun-
çarçili, Osmanli devletinin, 22.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 201

medrese o f Sinan Pasha for a long time”.75 This must be ibrahim bin Mustafa, who taught
at the Darii’l-hadis o f Sinan Pasha from May 1596 until his death in April 1606.76
To reiterate: Kadizade appears to have arrived in Istanbul sometime in the 1590s,
probably during the last years o f the reign o f Murad HI (1574-1595), or first years o f the
reign o f Mehmed III (1595-1603), while he was still ateenager. As he him self states, his
initial aim seems to have been a judicial-scholarly career in medreses and judgeships.
After noting his attendance at the lectures o f Mullah Ibrahim, he ends this part o f his
autobiography by stating that he started teaching at the Mosque o f Murad Pasha in late
March —early April 1602 (awâ ’il shahr Shawwâl min shuhür sanat 'ashar wa-alf), a few
months before he turned 20 years old, in our reckoning.
It is at this point in his life that he seems to have moved to a preaching career under
the patronage o f Sheikh Ômer, the Halved sheikh o f the Tercüman (or Dragoman) lod­
ge and a preacher at the imperial mosques o f Istanbul.77 He states that he attended his
sermons and then his lectures. He also entered the “forty days o f solitude”, al-khalwa
al-arba'iniyya, with Sheikh Ômer three times. When Sheikh Ômer went on a military
campaign with Ali Pasha, he apparently left Kadizade as his successor for purposes of
his sermons. Thus Kadizade preached at the Mosque o f Sultan Selim for nine months
and also commented upon the second half o f the second chapter o f the Q ur’an during
this period, which must be during the military campaign o f the Grand Vizier Ali Pasha
in 1604 against the Habsburgs, as Topçular Katibi Abdtilkadir confirms Sheikh Ômer’s
participation in this campaign.78 Kadizade also notes that he got married during these
months in his neighbourhood o f Çavuç, which might be near Silivrikapi.79 When Sheikh
Ômer came back from the military campaign, he invited Kadizade to his own neighbo­
urhood, settled him in a house endowed to be occupied by scholars, and appointed him
as his successor at the Tercüman Mosque, where Kadizade preached and commented
upon the Q ur’an for a year, after which Sheikh Ômer and Kadizade fell into a disagree­
ment on some issues which he does not specify. Then Kadizade notes that he separated
him self from Sheikh Ômer, returned to his former neighbourhood and to his teaching at

75 97MTT, 52b.
76 Atayî, 508; Baltaci, 888; cf. 426-427.
77 Kàtib Chelebi, The Balance o f Truth, 132. On this sheikh, see F. idiz, Ômer Fânî Efendî ve ta-
sawufa dair üç eseri: âdab, cehrî zikir, semâ ’ve tasawufa dair bazi meseleler (Istanbul 2011).
78 Abdülkadir, Topçular Kâtibi ‘Abdülkâdir (Kadrî) Efendi Tarihi, ed. Z. Yilmazer, 2 vols (Anka­
ra 2003), 1:403, 412, 416.
79 Evliya Çelebi mentions two neighbourhoods the names of which include “Çavuç”, but they are
in Kasimpaça and Tophane, whereas the Murad Pasha Mosque is located near Aksaray in the old
city. That is why I believe that the neighbourhood around “Çavuç mescidi”, which Evliya Çele­
bi locates in the vicinity of Silivrikapi, might be a more appropriate choice for Kadizade to li­
ve in; see Evliya Çelebi, Evliya Çelebi Seyahatnamesi: Topkapi Sarayi Bagdat 304 Yazmasmin
Transkripsiyonu - Dizini, Vol. 1: Istanbul, ed. O. Ç. Gôkyay (Istanbul 1996), 1:129; see also the
index, 353. There is another “Çavuç mescidi” in Balat, which the anonymous reviewer of this
piece drew my attention to; see H. Ayvansarâyî, All Satf, and Süleymân Besîm, Hadikatü'l-
cevâmi': istanbul camileri ve diger din —sivil m i’marl yapilar, ed. A. N. Galitekin (Istanbul
2001), 117. Ayvansarayi refers to two other mosques with the same name; see 117, 119.
202 BAKI TEZCAN

the Murad Pasha Mosque. I will return to Kadizade’s separation from his sheikh in the
last section o f this study.
Kâtip Çelebi’s summary o f this part o f Kadizade’s life reads:
He then chose the career of a Sufi sheikh, entering the service of Umar Efendi, Sheykh of the
Terjuman lodge (tekke), and occupying himself with spiritual purification. Finding, however,
that the Sufi path did not suit his temperament, he adopted the way of speculation.80

Kadizade, however, does not seem to have given up on Sufism. Right after noting his
return to the Murad Pasha Mosque, he states that he became a companion o f a certain
Naksibendi Sheikh Mehmed, who resided in Yalova and whom he describes with the
loftiest o f adjectives as an eminent sheikh and the perfect spiritual guide, and adds that
he pledged allegiance to him. He further asserts that he later associated with some other
Nakçibendi sheikhs as well, and found them consistent with and adhering to the sublime
law and the exalted religion in the articles o f faith, in words, actions, and attitudes.81 In
short, Kadizade is telling the Grand Mufti that he became a Naksibendi.
Following this sharp turn in his Sufi allegiance from the Halveti to the Naksibendi
order, Kadizade lists another series o f teachers and the books he read with them, starting
with a certain Behram, whom he identifies as one o f the students o f a certain Sheikh Ah­
mad al-Muqri, and under whom he studied the Q ur’an. Then he read the Q ur’an, memo­
rising it, with Evliya Mehmed Çelebi, who was to become the Imam o f the Sultan aro­
und December 1616. Evliya Mehmed had specialised in Q ur’an recitation and studied it
with a certain Ahmad Misri, who is described as the best o f the sheikhs of recitation,82
and who is perhaps the same person as Ahmad al-Muqri mentioned by Kadizade. The at­
tention Kadizade started paying to his Q ur’an recitation after studying law for at least a
decade must be related to his shift to a career in mosques.
After perfecting his Q ur’an recitation, Kadizade turned to hadith and studied al-
Masâbîh, which must refer to al-Baghawi (d. 1122)’s Masâbîh al-sunna, another well-
known work in the Ottoman medrese curriculum,83 under Abu al-Suud al-Qudsi, who
granted him an oral as well as a written licence to relate all that which was licensed for
him to relate.
His next teacher is Ibrahim al-Laqani (d. 1632), a Maliki Sufi scholar from Egypt who
is best known for his didactic poem o f 144 couplets on Muslim theology, the Jawharat
al-tawhïd. Kadizade states that he studied with him this poem and a part o f the Sahïh al-
Bukhàrî, the most revered compilation o f hadith among Sunni Muslims. Kadizade notes
that he received an oral as well as a written licence from al-Laqani as well. Since neither
Atayî nor other sources refer to any trip that al-Laqani might have taken to Istanbul,84

80 Katib Chelebi, The Balance o f Truth, 132.

81 97MTT, 53a.
82 Çeyhî Mehmed (d. 1145/1732-33), Vekayiü'1-fudalâ, 2 vols., Beyazit Kütüphanesi, Veliyüddin
Efendi 2361-2362; facsimile edition with indices in Ôzcan (ed.), §akaik-i Nu ’maniye ve Zeyil-
leri, Vols 3^1 [hereafter Çeyhî, all references are to Vol. 3 unless otherwise stated], 60.
83 Ahmed and Filipovic, ‘The Sultan’s Syllabus’, 200.
84 Atayî, 763; TDVIA s.v. ‘Lekanî, ibrahim b. ibrâhim’ (M. Yurdagür).
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 203

Kadizade must have visited Egypt at some point. And he indeed notes in another o f his
writings that he was in Egypt in 1020/1611-12. Perhaps it was part of a pilgrimage trip,
as he also notes in one o f his better known works that he conversed with the scholars of
Mecca, Medina, Jerusalem, Damascus, Aleppo, Morocco, Central Asia, and India. Since
one o f his teachers and the close friend o f his father Dursunzade Abdiilbaki served as the
chief judge o f Egypt from May 1606 until his death in January 1607, he might even have
visited Egypt twice, or stayed there for a few years after the death o f his teacher. This visit
could also explain how he would have worked with Abu al-Suud al-Qudsi, who seems to
be a scholar from Jerusalem and does not appear in the Turkish biographical dictionaries.85
After mentioning al-Laqani, Kadizade stops listing books he read and teachers he
studied them under and starts listing what he taught. Perhaps his visit to Egypt, or his
extended pilgrimage trip, was an escape from Istanbul, where he had first fallen into a
major disagreement with his Halveti sheikh, and then, after the death o f Dursunzade, he
had lost his most reliable supporter. He might have decided that it would be very dif­
ficult to secure a millazemet without a powerful patron, or, even if he secured a licence
to teach, it would be difficult to obtain desirable professorial or judicial appointments.86
Back in Istanbul, he probably embraced his position at the Murad Pasha Mosque and
taught books on grammar, logic, exegesis, principles o f jurisprudence, and related sub­
jects. He notes specifically that he taught the “Sadr al-Sharia”,87 the book he had first
studied in Bahkesir, probably when he was around 12 years old, and the Durar, which
must be M ullah Khusrav (d. 1480)’s famous commentary on his own Ghurar al-ahkdm
- also an essential part o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum,88 and completed them both,

85 Atayî, 514; Kadizade, “Mas’alat sâhib al-'udhr,” Dâr al-Kutub al-Qawmiyya, Majâmb Tab at
809, ff. 90b-95a, at f. 94b; as noted by Fihris al-makhtütât al-turkiyya, IV:98, this piece is in
Kadizade’s own handwriting which is attested by the colophon; while the catalog does not at­
tribute the authorship to Kadizade, the self-reference to the starting date of his position at the
Mosque of Murad Pasha as Çevval 1010 (March-April 1602) confirms him as the author, f. 94a.
For the reference to the geographical origins of the scholars he conversed with, see Mehm-
et Ôzkan, ‘Osmanli’da ilmihal gelenegi: Kadizâde Mehmed Efendi (1045/1635) ve ‘Risâle-i
Kadizade’ adh çaliçmasi’, Islam Hukuku Araçürmalari Dergisi 27 (2016): 553-74, at p. 571.
Abu al-Suud was the kunya of the famous Najm al-Din al-Ghazzi (1570-1651), whose family
was originally from Palestine but living in Damascus. He also visited Istanbul; see TDVtA s.v.
‘Necmeddin el-Gazzî’ (C. izgi). Kadizade may have referred to him as al-Qudsi, but it is diffi­
cult to be sure.
86 He could have secured a licence to teach as a former student of a deceased mullah, which was
one of the ways to receive a millazemet, see Y. Beyazit, Osmanli ilmiyye Mesleginde istihdam
(XVI. Yiizyil) (Ankara 2014), 75-86. But in the absence of a patron, his future would not be
very secure. Ismail Hakki [Uzunçarçili] claims that Kadizade received a licence to teach from
Dursunzade and served the latter as his teaching assistant. Yet this claim seems to be based on
ismail Hakki’s own assumption as his source, which he does not cite, seems to be Kâtip Çelebi
for this part of Kadizade’s life; see his Karesi Meçâhîri, Vol. 1: 'Ulemâ ve Meçâyîh Fash (Ka-
resi 1339/1342), 34.
87 Kâtip Çelebi confirms that he taught this book at the Murad Pasha Mosque; Fezleke, 11:182.
88 On Mullah Khusrav, see TDVÎA s.v. ‘Molla Hüsrev’ (F. Koca); on the use of his works in Otto­
man medreses, see Uzunçarçili, Osmanli devletinin, 22.
204 BAKI TEZCAN

while writing down his own thoughts on some o f the issues raised in them. Clearly, he
was not ju st a preacher but also used the mosque as a classroom in the longstanding
Muslim tradition o f public instruction, which had a longer history in the Islamic world
than the medreses.89
Kadizade also taught Baydawi’s exegesis o f the Q ur’an, supplementing it with read­
ings from Zamakhshari (d. 1144)’s al-K ashshâf and the Irshâd, which must refer to Ebus-
suud (d. 1574) ’s exegesis. He states that he finished it all in seven years and then started
again, reaching as far as the 31st verse o f the second chapter. Even if one were to assume
that he started teaching Baydawi as soon as he arrived at the Mosque o f Murad Pasha in
1602 and included the years he spent at the Mosque o f Selim I when he was substitut­
ing for his Halved sheikh, and his visit to Egypt within these seven years, this period of
his life would be over by 1609, thus helping us to date Kadizade’s second letter safely
to 1609-1615, when Kadizade was in his late twenties and early thirties, and Hocazade
Mehmed, the addressee o f the letters, occupied the position o f Grand Mufti. Unless he
made several trips to Egypt, Kadizade’s presence in Egypt in 1020 and his reference to
al-Laqani in his second letter, which means that it was written after the trip that included
a stay in Egypt, might suggest that he must have written it after 1020/1611-12, thus in
1612-15.90
After summarising his teaching activities, Kadizade goes back to the books he stu­
died, but this time with no names o f teachers attached to them.91 According to my own
identification of the books he describes, he lists the following titles, starting with major
works on Sufism: al-Kalabadhi (d. 990)’s al-Ta 'a rru f li-madhhab ahl al-tasawwuf, as
well as A la al-Din al-Qunawi (d. 1329)’s commentary on it;92 al-Qushayri (d. 1072)’s
treatise on Sufism;93 Shihab al-Din Umar Suhrawardi (d. 1234)’s 'Awàrif al-Ma ârifi an­
other work related to Sufism,94 and al-Ghazali (d. 111 l ) ’s Ihyâ ' 'ulüm al-dïn , 9 5 which he
was apparently teaching at the time o f his writing the second letter.

89 On the continuation of this old practice during the Ottoman era, see M. Akgündüz, Osmanh
Dersiâmlari (Istanbul 2010).
90 See note 85 above.
91 Kh. El-Rouayheb discusses the rise of “deep reading” in the seventeenth-century Ottoman Em­
pire; this emphasises individual encounters with texts rather than learning a text through the
guidance of a teacher; see his Islamic Intellectual History in the Seventeenth Century: Scho­
larly Currents in the Ottoman Empire and the Maghreb (New York 2015), 97-128.
92 TDVlA s.v. ‘Kelâbâzî, Muhammed b. ibrâhim’ (S. Uludag); trans. A. J. Arberry, The Doctri­
ne o f the Süfîs (Kitâb al-ta‘arruf li-madhhab ahl al-tasawwuf) (Cambridge 1935); TDVÎA s.v.
‘Konevî, Alâeddin’ (T. Ôzcan); ‘Ali al-Qûnawï, Husn al-tasarruf li-sharh al-ta ‘arruf, ed. Taha
al-Dasuqi Hubayshi, 4 vols (Cairo 2016).
93 TDVÎA s.v. ‘Kuçeyrî, Abdülkerîm b. Hevâzin’ (S. Uludag); trans. A. D. Rnysh, Al-Qushayri’s
Epistle on Sufism: Al-Risala al-qushayriyyafi ‘ilm al-tasawwuf (Reading 2007).
94 For an English translation, see al-Suhrawardi, A Dervish Textbook [based on al-Kashani’s Per­
sian translation], trans. H. Wilberforce Clarke (London 1980 [reprint of the Calcutta edition of
1891]).
95 On this book, see K. Garden, The First Islamic Reviver: Abu Hamid al-Ghazali and his Revival
o f the Religious Sciences (Oxford 2014).
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 205

He also taught Birgivî (d. 1573)’s al-Tarïqa al-Muhammadiyya wa'1-sïra al-

ahmadiyya,96 which he notes he had taught several times, as well as his other works and
treatises, such as J ilâ ’al-qulüb (a book o f ethical and spiritual advice), Iqâz al-na ’imm,
Inqâdh al-hâliqïn (both on the illegality o f performing religious services in return for
monetary compensation),97 al-Sayf al-sârim (on the illegality o f cash waqf), Dhukhr al-
muta ’ahhilîn (on menstruation), and Izhâr al-asrâr (on syntax).98 This categorisation
o f books is important to note as Kadizade lists the works o f Birgivî right after several
works on Sufism. Clearly, he did not see these groups o f works as mutually exclusive.
Birgivî him self wrote on Sufism and his magnum opus, al-Tarïqa al-Muhammadiyya,
has come to be embraced by many Sufis.99 This list of works by Birgivî also underli­
nes the impact their author must have had on Kadizade, who does not list more than
one or two works for most other authors in his letter.100 However, this impact, which
has been noted in m odem scholarship,101 should not be overemphasised, as most o f
Kadizade’s foundational bibliography actually consists o f Ottoman medrese textbooks
and Sufi classics.
After listing the books he studied and taught, Kadizade moves on to his own works
and lists several books he translated: Ibn al-Hajib (d. 1249)’s work on Arabic grammar,
al-Kdfiya, which was part o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum,102 and the gist o f its com­
mentaries; al-Talkhis, which must be Khatib al-Qazwini (d. 1338)’s summary o f the third
part o f the Miftâh al- 'ulüm by Abu Yaqub al-Sakkaki (d. 1229) on rhetoric mentioned
above;103 the above-mentioned ‘Summary o f Isagoge’ on logic,104 and a work on theol­
ogy by Abu al-Muin al-Nasafi (d. I l l 5).105

96 On this work, see K. A. Ivanyi, ‘Virtue, Piety and the Law: A Study of Birgivi Mehmed Efen-
di’s al-Tarika al-Muhammadiyya’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 2012.
97 Kadizade might also have translated the latter treatise into Turkish; see Terceme-i Inkâzü 7-
Hâlikîn, which is attributed to “Kadizade Efendi” in Milli Kütüphane, A 3994, 135b-143b - 1
did not have a chance to examine this manuscript, which I identified in the online catalogue of
the Turkish National Library.
98 Ivanyi, ‘Virtue, Piety and the Law, 24-45; TDVIA s.v. ‘Birgivî’ (E. Yiiksel), at 193. Some of
these treatises have been published; see, for instance, Dhukhr al-muta ahhilîn wa-al-nisâ’f î
ta'rïf al-athâr wa-al-dimâ ’ (Damascus 2005).
99 See Birgivi, The Path o f Muhammad: A Book on Islamic Morals and Ethics & the Last Will
and Testament, trans. T. Bayrak (Bloomington 2005). The translator Bayrak is a Cerrahi-
Halveti sheikh in the US. On Birgivî’s ideas on Sufism, see Marti, Birgivî Mehmed Efendi,
153-166. Another Sufi reader of Birgivî was al-Nabulusi (d. 1731), see Samer Akkach, 'Abd
al-Ghani al-Nabulusi: Islam and the Enlightenment (Oxford 2007), 106.
100 I will dwell upon another implication of some of these works below, see n. 257ff.
101 Both Ôztürk and Çavuçoglu start their discussions of the historical background of the move­
ment inspired by Kadizade with Birgivî, see Ôztürk, ‘Islamic Orthodoxy’, 135-143; Çavuçog-
lu, ‘The Kàdïzàdeli Movement’ 48-59.
102 Uzunçarçili, 30, 40, 68.
103 See TDVlA s.v. ‘Kazvînî, Hatîb’ (L Durmuç); TDVÏA s.v. ‘Sekkâkî, Ebû Ya‘küb’ (i. Durmuç);
see also n. 66 above.
104 Probably Kadizade is referring to al-Abhari’s work mentioned above, nn. 58-59.
105 It is most probably his al-Tamhïd; see TDVIA s.v. ‘Nesefï, Ebü’l-Muîn’ (Y. Ç. Yavuz).
206 BAKITEZCAN

Then Kadizade lists the works he authored himself: Irshàd al- uqül al-mustaqïma ilâ
al-tarïqa al-qawïma bi-ibtâl al-bida ‘ al-saqïma, which was briefly summarised by Ne-
cati Ôztürk in his Ph.D. dissertation;106 a treatise on the deeds o f the companions o f the
Prophet;107 the mathâlib al-rawâfid, or the “shortcomings o f the renegades”,108 which
is probably a critique o f Shiism; a treatise on the refusal o f the congregational recital of
the prayers for Raghâ 'ib, Bard 'at, and Qadr, holy nights which are popularly associat­
ed with the conception o f the Prophet, the descent o f the Q ur’an to earthly heavens, and
the beginning o f its revelation to Muhammad, respectively, which has been identified by
Ôztürk with its original title;109 a title that reads amthila mufassala, which is probably
about the Arabic language;110 a commentary on al-Maqsüd, an anonymous work on Ar­
abic grammar which was part o f the Ottoman madrasa curriculum;111 a commentary on
Ibn Malak (d. after 1418)’s Arabic-Turkish dictionary,11213and other treatises on some of
the books he taught or studied, such as the exegesis o f Baydawi, the Durar o f Mullah
Khusrav, the “[Book of] Sadr al-Sharia”, and al-lslah, which must refer to Ibn al-Sikkit
(d. 858)’s Islah al-mantiq.m
Kadizade’s letter continues with other books he studied, such as Ibn M alak’s. com­
mentary on Radiyy al-Din al-Saghani (d. 1252)’s Mashârik al-anwâr al-nabawiyya,
which was also part o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum and on some subjects o f which
Kadizade wrote interpretative notes (hâshiya).114 He also studied the chapters on rit­
ual purity, ritual prayer, and some subjects in the chapter on dealings (mu 'âmalât) in
Ibn al-Humam (d. 1457)’s Path al-Qadir and Akmal al-Din al-Babarti’s (d. 1384) al-
Inaya, both o f which are among the well-known commentaries o f the above-mentioned
al-Hidâya, a foundational work o f Hanafi jurisprudence and the Ottoman medrese cur­
riculum.115 The last title he notes in this group is North African scholar al-Sanusi (d.
1490)’s 'A qaid .116
Then Kadizade lists several other works which he studied, the common denomina­
tor o f which seems to be advice on keeping on the straight path. He is now moving out

106 Ôztürk, ‘Islamic Orthodoxy’ 152-153; this work is recorded with a slightly different title but
the same content as described by Ôztürk by Kâtip Çelebi as well; see Kashf al-zunün, 1:66.
107 ‘Risâla f i manâqib al-sahâba', 97 MTT, 53a; this title is also mentioned by Bursali Mehmed
Tahir, 'Osmânh M ü’ellifleri, 3 vols (Istanbul 1333-1342), 1:402.
108 97 MTT, 53b.
109 Ôztürk, ‘Islamic Orthodoxy’, 154. As Derin Terzioglu kindly reminded me, Kadizade is not
against individual performance of superogatory prayers during these special nights but is op­
posed to their congregational performance.
110 Birgivî has a work on the Arabic language which bears a somewhat similar title; see Yüksel,
193.
111 TDVlA s.v. ‘el-Maksûd’ (K. Demirayak); Uzunçarçih, Osmanli devletinin, 30, 40.
112 TDVlA s.v. ‘ibn Melek’ (M. Baktir).
113 TDVlA s.v. ‘Islâhu’l-mantik’ (N. 0 . Karaarslan).
114 TDVÎA s.v. ‘Meçâriku’l-envâri’n-nebeviyye’ (L Hatiboglu); Uzunçarçih, Osmanli Devletinin,
19.
115 TDVlA s.v. ‘Îbnü’l-Hümâm’ (F. Koca); TDVlA s.v. ‘Bâbertî’ (A. Aytekin).
116 TDVlA s.v. ‘Akaidü’s-Senusî’ (Y. §. Yavuz).
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 207

o f the Ottoman medrese curriculum and taking us to a wide-ranging reading list in the
early modern Islamic world. The first book in this group is a title that may no longer be
extant, or its authorship is misattributed: the Tanbïh al-ghâfilïn by Sheikh Baha al-Din
al-Naqshbandi (d. 1389), which is attested by Kâtip Çelebi in his bibliographical diction­
ary but not described in any detail; it is also not listed among the works of the founder of
the Naksibendi order, who is not known to have authored any works.117 The next book
Kadizade lists carries the same title as the first: the Tanbïh al-ghâfilïn by Abu al-Layth
al-Samarqandi (d. 983), the contents o f which reminds one o f written sermons on various
subjects.11819After the two Tanbïhs come two titles by al-Ghazali: the Minhâj al- ‘àbidïn,
which discusses the seven obstacles on the way to heaven and how one may overcome
them, and al-Arba T« f i usül al-dïn, which was originally conceived by its author as the
third part o f his Jawâhir al-Qur ’3n.m
Next, Kadizade lists four titles which he attributes to the well-known Hanbaii author
from Baghdad, Abu al-Faraj Ibn al-Jawzi (d. 1201): the Minhâj al-qasidïn ilâ al-janna,
the Ighàthat al-lahfân min makâ 'id al-shaytàn, the Ta 'rïf âl-talbïs wa-tab 'ïd al-iblïs, and
the Tahdhïr al-ïqâz min akâdhïb al-wu ' 'âz. While the first has been translated into Eng­
lish from the summary produced by one o f Ibn al-Jawzi’s students,120 the second must be
the Ighàthat al-lahfân min m a sâ ’id al-shaytân by Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (d. 1350),121
another Hanbaii author and a student o f Ibn Taymiyya (d. 1328). The latter work has been
described as a summary o f Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya’s social reform project, which was
to inspire Salafi M uslims.122 The third could be Ibn al-Jawzi’s Talbïs Iblïs, or the Delu­
sion o f the Devil, a very large part o f which is a critique o f various Sufi practices.123 But
there is also a title identical with the third title which Kadizade provides and yet is that
o f a certain M uhammad bin Idris al-Nakhjiwani, who might be the son o f Idris Bitlisî
(d. 1520), the well-known Kurdish-Ottoman bureaucrat.124 As for the fourth, the Tahdhïr
al-ïqâz, this is not mentioned among the known works o f Ibn al-Jawzi and is attributed
to al-Suyuti (d. 1505).125 Kadizade, however, notes that he studied a similar title, the

117 Kâtib Çelebi, Keçf-el-zunun, 1:488; TDVIA s.v. ‘Bahâeddin Nakçibend’ (H. Algar).
118 TDVlA s.v. ‘Semerkandî, Ebü’l-Leys’ (L Yazici)
119 Al-Ghazali’s authorship of the first of these titles was questioned by Ibn Arabi; see TDVIA s.v.
‘Gazzâlî - Eserleri, Tesirleri’ (H. B. Karhga).
120 Ibn Qudama al-Maqdisi, Towards the Hereafter: Mukhtasar Minhâj al-qâsidïn, trans. W. A.
Shihab, rev. S. Faris (El-Mansoura H.1422/2002); also see TDVIA s.v. ‘ibnü’l-Cevzî, Ebti’l-
Ferec’ (Y. Ç. Yavuz and C. Avci).
121 This work is attested with two slightly different titles; the one that Kadizade cites is less
common; see Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, Ighàthat al-lahfân fi masâ’id al-Shaytân (Cairo
H. 1320/1902); idem, Mukhtasar Ighàthat al-lahfân min makâ’id al-Shaytân, summ. Abd Al­
lah ibn Abd al-Rahman Aba Butayn (Al-Yamama 1972).
122 See TD VIA s.v ‘ibn Kayyim el-Cevziyye’ (H. Y. Apaydm and Y. Ç. Yavuz).
123 Ibn al-Jawzi, Talbïs Iblïs: Delusion o f the Devil, trans. D. S. Margoliouth, ed. N. Kr Singh, 2
vols (New Delhi 2003).
124 For a summary of the work, see Kâtib Çelebi, Ketjf-el-zunun, 1:421; for the author’s identifica­
tion as Idris Bitlisî’s son, see Bagdath ismail Paça, Hadiyyat al- 'Ârifïn, 11:253.
125 Muhammad bin Abd al-Rahman Ibn al-Ghazzi (d. 1753-4), Dïwân al-Islâm wa-bi-hâshiyatihi
208 BAKI TEZCAN

Tahdhîr al-khawâss min akâdhïb al-qussâs, which he identifies as al-Suyuti’s summary

o f Ibn al-Jawzi’s Tahdhîr al-îqâz.126
Kadizade continues his list o f the books he read with four more titles by the well-
known Egyptian scholar al-Suyuti. The Kitâb al-itqân must be al-Itqân f i 'ulüm al-
Qur'ân, which is an introduction to the sciences o f the Q ur’an. And the Khasâyis al-
habîb must be Unmüzaj al-labîb f î kh a sa is al-habîb, which is al-Suyuti’s summary of
his own al-Khasâ 'is al-kubrâ, a book on the attributes and qualities o f the Prophet.127 The
third, the Mukhtasar badhl al-mâ ‘Un must be Ma rawâhu al-wâ ‘ün f i akhbâr al-tâ ‘Un,
which is a summary o f Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani (d. 1449)’s Badhl al-mâ ‘ün f î fa d l al-tâ ‘ün,
a collection o f Prophetic traditions on the plague.128 The last title, the Shark al-nuqâya,
refers to Itmâm al-dirâya, al-Suyuti’s commentary on his own al-Nuqâya, which deals
with 14 objects o f knowledge, such as grammar, calligraphy, jurisprudence, and medi­
cine.129 Kadizade adds that he also read other treatises by al-Suyuti, suggesting that this
Egyptian scholar was one o f his favourite authors alongside Ibn al-Jawzi and Birgivî.
The next couple o f titles Kadizade mentions are North African scholar Qadi lyad (d.
1149)’s al-Shifa ’, which is a work on the Prophet,130 and al-Kalabadhi’s (d. 990) Ma 'ânî
al-akhbâr, a mystically inclined commentary on a selection o f hadith.131 Then he cites
three great classics o f Persian poetry: Rumî (d. 1273)’s Mathnavi and the collected works
(kulliyyât) o f Sadi (d. 1291) and Attar (d. 1221) - he actually cited verses from Sadi in
his first letter (without acknowledgment). It is very important to note that both Ruml’s
M athnavi and A ttar’s Conference o f the Birds ,132 which would be included in his collec­
ted works, are among the most inspiring works o f Sufism.
Then Kadizade states that he studied a “precious treatise on the prohibition o f the
vocal dhikr (risâla nafisa f î man ‘ al-dhikr al-jahri)” by al-Sayyid al-Sharif, who must be
Abu al-Hasan Ali al-Jurjani (d. 1413). While I could not identify such a treatise among
the known works o f al-Jurjani, Kâtip Çelebi attributes to him a treatise on the glorious

asmâ’ kutub al-aTâm, ed. S. K. Hasan, 4 vols (Beirut 1990), 111:57, n.; for a manuscript that
carries the same title and is also attributed to al-Suyuti; see Beyazit Devlet Kütüphanesi, Veli-
yüddin Efendi 1885, which I did not have a chance to examine.
126 97 MTT, 53b; see al-Suyuti, Tahdhîr al-khawâss min akâdhïb al-qussâs, ed. Abd Allah ibn
Muhammad ibn al-Siddiq al-Maghribi (Cairo 1403).
127 For al-Suyuti and his works, see TDVÎA s.v ‘Süyûtî’ (H. Ôzkan, M. S. Mertoglu, S. Çensoy,
and S. S. Yavuz).
128 Al-Suyuti, Mâ rawâhu al-wâ un f î akhbâr al-tâ Ün, ed. Muhammad Ali al-Barr (Damascus
1997); Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani, Badhl al-mâ Ünfîfadl al-tâ Ün, ed. Ahmad Isam Abd al-Qadir
al-Katib (Riyad 1411); Ibn Hajar’s work was also summarised by al-Munawi (d. 1467); see
TDVIA s.v ‘Münâvî, Yahyâ b. Muhammed’ (M. Koçak).
129 E. d. W. Root, ‘A Translation of Kitab al-nuqâya containing the Essence of the Fourteen Sci­
ences by Jalâl al-Dïn al-Suyütf, unpublished M.A. thesis, Hartford Seminary, 1940.
130 TDVÎA s.v ‘Kâdî iyâz’ (M. Y. Kandemir).
131 On al-Kalabadhi and his work, see n. 92 above.
132 The Mathnawi o f Jalaluddin Rumi, trans. R. A. Nicholson, 6 vols (London 1925-1940); Farid
al-Dïn ‘Attar, The Conference o f the Birds, trans. D. Davis and A. Darbandi (Harmondsworth
1984).
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 209

deeds o f the founder o f the Nakçibendi order, Sheikh Baha al-Din al-Naqshbandi.1331345If
al-Jurjani had Nakçibendi sympathies, he could have been critical o f vocal dhikr, as al-
Naqshbandi reputedly “abandoned the vocal dhikr”.'34 The Nakçibendi practice of silent
dhikr might have been one o f the reasons why Kadizade chose to pay allegiance to a
Nakçibendi sheikh.
The next title in Kadizade’s reading list is the North African Maliki scholar Ibn al-Hajj
(d. 1336)’s al-Madkhal, a book which draws attention to those customs and traditions
which are deemed to be opposed to the fundamentals o f religion, and criticises innovations
(bid a).'35 Kadizade then notes that he studied Ibrahim al-Halabi (d. 1549)’s commentary
on al-Kashghari (d. 1305)’s Munyctt al-musallï, which is about ritual purity and prayer, ad­
ding that he also taught al-Halabi’s own summary o f his commentary.136 Another treatise
Kadizade read was on the above-mentioned Raghâ ib prayers by one of the Ibn Nujaym
brothers, Hanafi scholars from Ottoman Cairo (d. 156 3,1596).137 The last treatise he notes
is by a certain Sheikh Ali al-Qudsi, who was apparently knowns as a commentator o f al-
Nasafi (d. 1310)’s Kanz al-daqâ’iq. The tension in the last sections o f Kadizade’s letter
between well-known Sufi texts such as the M athnavï o f Rumî, whose followers adopted
whirling as a fundamental component o f their rituals, and other works, such as the treatise
on the prohibition o f vocal dhikr, should prepare us for what comes next, which was edited
out o f the other copy o f the second letter, a point to which I will return.138
What comes next is Kadizade’s long anticipated discussion o f Ibn Arabi. First, he
repeats his statement in the first letter, reminding the Grand Mufti that he used to have a
notebook in which he wrote things that Ibn Arabi stated in his al-Futühât al-Makkiyya,
and then citing four books which caused a great deal o f ambivalence about Ibn Arabi
in his heart when he read them in 1014/1605-6. He identifies the first one as K ashf al-
Ghitâ ’ [fïradd al-fusüs] by the highly respected Shafii jurist and hadith scholar Ibn Hajar
al-Asqalani (d. 1449),139 which he describes as a big book comparable in size to Mullah

133 TDVlA s.v ‘Cürcânî, Seyyid Çerîf (S. Gümüç).

134 Le Gall, A Culture o f Sufism, 117; while Le Gall also notes on the same page that some
Nakçibendis practised vocal dhikr, she cites three seventeenth-century Ottoman authors “who
all used the yardstick of silent versus vocal dhikr to distinguish between two categories of Ot­
toman tariqas, with the Naqshbandiyya and its silent dhikr on one side and the Khalwatiyya
and its vocal one on the other”: ibid., 113. And, of course, al-Jurjani may have been critical of
vocal dhikr for reasons other than being a Nakçibendi sympathiser as well.
135 TDVlA s.v ‘ibnü’l-Hâc el-Abderî’ (S. Kôse).
136 For these two works, see TDVÎA s.v ‘Halebi, Ibrahim b. Muhammed’ (§. S. Has).
137 TDVlA s.v ‘ibn Nüceym, Zeynüddin’ (A. Ôzel); TDVlA s.v ‘ibn Nüceym, Siraceddin’ (A. N.
Serinsu). A copy of the treatise in question is quite possibly held at the Beyazit Devlet Kütü-
phanesi, MS 1275.
138 The copy of the second letter at Milli Kütüphane, A 2688, ff. 63a-64a, ends here with a short
notice by the copyist acknowledging the existence of the verses at the end of the letter that s/
he left out and thus suggesting that there was nothing else between the reference to the treatise
by Sheikh Ali al-Qudsi and the verses.
139 97 MTT, 54a; the second half of the title is from the first letter; 97 MTT, 51b; see also Milli
Kütüphane, A 2688, 63a.
210 BAKI TEZCAN

Khusrav’s above-mentioned Durar. Although I have not been able to identify such a
book written by Ibn Hajar, there are some references which do suggest that Ibn Hajar
might indeed have been very critical of Ibn Arabi.140 Alexander Knysh’s overall opini­
on on this question is that Ibn Hajar was elusive about Ibn Arabi. But this might have
been his way of protecting him self against the Mamluk court, which seems to have been
frequented by scholars who were admirers o f Ibn Arabi.141 However, the presence of
contradictory pieces o f evidence makes it difficult to make a call on Ibn H ajar’s stance
regarding Ibn Arabi at this point.142
The last book Kadizade cites is “another book on the refutation o f the Fusils [al-
hikam]” by the above-mentioned al-Taftazani. This very well respected medieval scholar
who produced major works on exegesis, theology, jurisprudence, logic, and Arabic lan­
guage, was indeed known to have been critical o f Ibn Arabi.143 However, the book which
Kadizade had in mind, which must be the Fâdlhat al-mulhidïn wa-nasThat al-muwahhidln,
is actually that o f M uhammad al-Bukhari (d. 1437), a student o f al-Taftazani.144 Yet Ka-

140 On Ibn Hajar, see TDVlA s.v ‘ibn Hacer el-Askalânî’ (M. Y. Kandemir). Ibn Hajar notes that
when he asked his teacher al-Bulqini (d. 1403) about Ibn Arabi, he asserted that Ibn Arabi was
an unbeliever (kafir); see Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani, Lisàn al-mïzân (Multan 1330-1331), IV:318,
cited by his student Burhân al-Din al-Biqai (d. 1480-1), Masra' al-tasawwuf, aw, Tanbih al-
ghabî ilâ takfir Ibn ‘Arabi wa-tahdîr al- ‘ibâd min ahl al- ‘inâd, ed. Abd al-Rahman Wakil
(Bilbis 1989), 176. See also the story which his contemporary Taqi al-Din al-Fasi (d. 1429)
relates directly from Ibn Hajar, Juz' fihi ’aqidat Ibn ‘A rabï wa-hayâtuhu wa-md qalahu al-
mu'arrikhün w a’l-'ulâma' fihi, ed. Ali Hasan Ali Abd al-Hamid (Hofuf 1988), 75-76 [this
short book is an extract from al-Fasi’s Al- ‘I qdal-thaminfl ta’rikh al-baladal-amin, ed. Mu­
hammad Abd al-Qadir Ahmad Ata, 7 vols (Beimt 1998), 11:277-300, the story is at 299-300].
Ibn Hajar and al-Fasi seem to have had a close relationship; see TDVIA s.v ‘Fâsî, Takiyyüd-
din’ (C. izgi). Al-Biqai cites the same story with some more detail; see Masra' al-tasawwuf,
149-150. For a summary in English, see A. D. Knysh, Ibn 'Arabi in the Later Islamic Tradi­
tion: The Making o f a Polemical Image in Medieval Islam (Albany 1999), 132, 332, n.102.
Evidence of Ibn Hajar’s negative opinions on Ibn Arabi may be found in other works of his as
well; see Ç. Ôzen, ‘Ottoman ‘Ulamâ’ Debating Sufism: Settling the Conflict on the [s/c] Ibn
al-Arabi’s Legacy by Fatwàs’, in El sufismo y las normas del Islam - Trabajos del IV Con-
greso Internacional de Estudios Jurldicos Isldmicos: Derecho y Sufismo, (Murcia, 7-10 mayo
2003), ed. A. Carmona (Murcia 2006), 309-341, at 313, n. 16.
141 Knysh, Ibn ‘Arabi in the Later Islamic Tradition, 128, compare 135.
142 While the council of chief judges Ibn Hajar presided over seems to have taken a negative at­
titude toward Ibn Arabi’s teachings in the late 1420s, Ibn Hajar is also credited with a fatwa
which is supportive of Ibn Arabi; compare Knysh, Ibn 'Arabi in the Later Islamic Tradition,
207-208; A. Tek, ‘ibnü’l-Arabî’yi müdâfaa amaciyla kaleme alman fetvâlar’, Tasawuf: Ilmî
ve Akademik Araçtirma Dergisi, 23 (2009), 281-301, at 284-285. Also, Bursah Mehmed Tahir
lists Ibn Hajar among the authors who wrote positively about Ibn Arabi and attributes to him a
book on this subject, al-Intisâr li-a ’immat al-amsar, which I could not identify, see Terciime-i
hal vefezail-i §eyhii’l-ekber Muhyiddin-i Arabi (Istanbul 1316), 15.
143 Ôzen, ‘Teftâzânî’, 303.
144 Muhammad bin Muhammad al-Bukhari, ‘Fâdihat al-mulhidm wa-nasïhat al-muwahhidln’,
ed. Muhammad bin Ibrahim al-Awdi, unpublished M.A. thesis, 2 vols, Jamiat Umm al-Qura,
H.1414.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 211

dizade should not be blamed for this misattribution, as there are several manuscript co­
pies o f the work, as well as a print edition, which have been attributed to al-Taftazani.
To make things more complicated, in some manuscript copies, the work starts with a
poetic epigraph attributed to al-Taftazani and is quite critical o f the Fus its al-hikam.l4S
M odem scholars continued this misidentification all the way to the late twentieth cen­
tury, even though late nineteenth and early twentieth-century Ottoman scholars pointed
out the problems with it and also identified the correct author.146 As noted by Bakri Ala
al-Din, the origin o f this confusion might well be related to al-Bukhari’s doctrinal loyalty
to his master, al-Taftazani. Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulusi (d. 1731), for instance, devoted a
very long section to a critique o f al-Taftazani in his defence o f Ibn Arabi and the theory
o f the unity o f being, frequently citing al-Taftazani’s major work on theology, the Sharh
al-maqâsid, which was part o f the Ottoman madrasa curriculum, and making very vague
allusions to the Fâdihat al-mulhidin without ever mentioning the name o f al-Bukhari.147
Thus while Kadizade’s identification o f the author he read was mistaken, most o f the
ideas represented by this author were traceable to his teacher, a major authority whose
works were read in Ottoman madrasas.
The other two titles Kadizade mentions are identifiable: the N i ‘mat al-dhari'a ft
nusrat al-shari'a and Tasfih al-ghabi f ï [tanzih] Ibn 'Arabi, both o f them by the well-
known Arab-Ottoman scholar o f the early sixteenth century Ibrahim al-Halabi, who was
very critical o f Ibn Arabi, whom he accused o f changing the meaning o f the Q ur’an and
being an enemy o f God, and of his ideas, which he described as “satanic views” .148 Al-
Halabi had also taken the time to copy al-Bukhari’s Fâdihat al-mulhidin, and he was the

145 See al-Bukhari, ‘Fâdihat al-mulhidïn’, 1:394-398 (for a discussion of authorship, including
references to the manuscripts), and 11:4, n. 4 (for the poem); for an English translation of the
poem, see Knysh, Ibn 'Arabi in the Later Islamic Tradition, 147-148. The print edition is the
first treatise in the MajmiFat rasâ’ilfiwahdat al-wujüd([Istanbul] 1294), 2-47.
146 Bursali Mehmed Tahir identified the correct author as al-Bukhari, also citing Çerkeç-Çey-
hizade Mehmed Tevfik, who stated that the author of this text could not be al-Taftazani
(Levâyihü’l-kudsiye [H. 1303/1886], 5), see his Terciime-i hal, 14, n.; see also i. Fenni [Er-
tugrul], Vahdet-i viicud ve Muhyiddin Arabi (Istanbul 1928), 101-102. Yet the misattributi­
on persisted; see Knysh, Ibn 'Arabi in the Later Islamic Tradition, 147-148 (338 n. 50), esp.
206 (362 n.30). In the French introduction to his edition of Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulusi’s Al-
Wujüd al-haqq wa-al-khitâb al-sidq (Damascus 1995), Bakri Ala al-Din devotes a chapter to
this question and notes how he himself had erred by attributing the Fâdihat al-mulhidin to al-
Taftazani in 1985, see 15-30, esp. 16.
147 Al-Nabulusi, Al-Wujüdal-haqq, 117-148; ‘Ala’ al-Din’s French introduction, 16. As mentio­
ned above, the Sharh al-maqâsid was al-Taftazani’s commentary on his own al-Maqâsid; see
TDVlA s.v ‘el-Makâsid’ (M. Sinanoglu); see also Uzunçarçili, Osmanli devletinin, 55. Whi­
le Elizabeth Sirriyeh believes that al-Nabulusi himself might have been “unaware of the true
authorship” of the Fâdiha, according to Bursali Mehmed Tahir, al-Nabulusi was aware of the
misattribution of this treatise to al-Taftazani; Tercüme-i hâl, 14, n.; see also I. Fenni [Ertugrul],
Vahdet-i vücûd, 101; compare Sirriyeh, Sufi Visionary o f Ottoman Damascus: 'Abd al-Ghani
al-Nâbulusi, 1641-1731 (London and New York 2005), 95.
148 TDVÎA s.v ‘Halebî, ibrahim b. Muhammed’ (Ç. S. Has).
212 BAKITEZCAN

actual author o f the short poetic epigraph that is to be found in the copies o f the work
attributed to al-Taftazani.149 Thus he was very familiar with the critical tradition directed
against Ibn Arabi, to which he contributed with the two works Kadizade cites.
Kadizade asserts that Ibn Hajar, al-Taftazani, and al-Halabi utter vicious words about
Ibn Arabi; they quote legal opinions from 280 muftis and cite 700 works by eminent
scholars, accusing him o f infidelity and rejecting his work al-Fitsüs.150 He notes that all
o f this created a great deal o f ambivalence in his heart and then repeats his statements
from the first letter about how he related what he read to some o f the contemporary scho­
lars who instructed him to suspend judgment (or stop talking, tawaqquf) about Ibn Arabi.
Kadizade adds, as he did in his first letter, that he followed their instructions.
But then Kadizade adds a new twist to this discussion in the second letter by stating
that some books he later read resolved his ambivalence about Ibn Arabi. All o f these
books were authored by Abd al-Wahhab al-Sharani (d. 1565), an Egyptian Sufi who
defended Ibn A rabi.151 He lists the titles as Mashàriq al-anwàr f i tabaqât al-akhyâr,
which must be the Lawâqih al-anwâr f i tabaqât al-akhyâr, a biography o f scholars and
Sufis;152 Lawâqih al-anwàr wa-manàqib al-Shaykh al-Akbar quddisa sirruh al-anwar,
which is probably Lawâqih al-anwàr al-qudsiyya, a summary o f Ibn Arabi’s al-Futûhât
al-Makkiyya\ al-Yawâqït, a theological work that aims to explain the views o f Ibn Arabi
and other Sufis and theologians on articles o f faith; Talkhîs al- Futühàt, which is likely
to be al-Kibrït al-ahmar f i bayàn ‘ulüm al-Shaykh al-Akbar, a summary o f the Lawâqih
al-anwâr al-qudsiyya; and al-Bahr al-mawrüd f i al-mawâthïq wa-al- 'uhüd, a work on

149 See Muhammad al-Bukhari, Fâdîhat al-mulhidin wa-nasïhat al-muwahhidïn, Bahkesir II

Halk Kütüphanesi, MS 1135, 23b-55a, at f. 55a, where the copyist identifies himself as “Ib­
rahim bin Muhammad bin Ibrahim al-Halabi” and notes that he was in Damascus at the mad-
rasat al-Qijmâsiyya, which must be the college of law endowed by the Mamluk governor of
Damascus Qijmas al-Ishaqi (d. 1487). When he completed the copy on 24 Shawwal 894 (20
September 1489), al-Halabi must have been in his thirties; compare TDVÎA, loc.cit. In the sa­
me copy of the treatise, the poetic epigraph is preceded by a biography of al-Bukhari and int­
roduced by the phrase “min nazm al-faqïr Ibrâhîm al-HalabF (f. 23b), a very clear attribution
of the poem to al-Halabi by himself. Interestingly, in the same manuscript one finds yet anot­
her copy of the same treatise, which was copied much later, in October-November 1666, this
time with an attribution to al-Taftazani, see ff. 59b-87b. It thus seems that the circulation of
al-Bukhari’s work under the name of al-Taftazani must have started after 1489, most probably
in Ottoman lands during the sixteenth century, and perhaps in Bahkesir, where Kadizade was
bom and received his early education, and this manuscript is to be found today.
150 97 MTT, 51b, 54a.
151 R. J. A. McGregor, ‘Notes on the Transmission of Mystical Philosophy: Ibn ‘Arabi According
to ‘Abd al-Wahhâb al-Sha'ranf, in Reason and Inspiration in Islam: Theology, Philosophy
and Mysticism in Muslim Thought, ed. T. Lawson (London 2005), 380-392; A. Sabra, ‘Illiter­
ate Sufis and Learned Artisans: the Circle of ‘Abd al-Wahhab al-Sha‘rani’, in Le développe­
ment du soufisme en Egypte à l ’époque mamlouke, eds R. J. McGregor and A. Sabra (Cairo
2006), 153-168; M. Winter, Society and Religion in Early Ottoman Egypt: Studies in the Writ­
ings o f Abd al-Wahhab Sharani (New Bmnswick 1982).
152 Al-Sharani also wrote a book entitled Mashàriq al-anwâr al-qudsiyya f ï beyân al- 'uhüd al-
Muhammadiyya, see TDVÎA s.v ‘§a‘rânî’ (H. Kaplan).
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 213

the right moral principles for Sufis which are shaped by the conversations the author had
with sheikhs he m et.153
Kadizade does not forget to thank God for guiding him to waive the ambivalence
about Ibn Arabi from his heart by aptly quoting from the Q ur’anic verse 7:43: “We are
grateful to God for guiding us here. Never would we have been guided if God had not
shown us the way”. In conclusion, Kadizade claims that he was envied by people - that
is why they were slandering him with many lies and defaming him with false accusa­
tions. And then he starts citing fitting verses o f poetry, mostly in Arabic, taken from
various unidentified authors, some o f whom might be Abu al-Aswad al-Duali (d. 688-9),
al-Buhturi (d. 897), al-Mutanabbi (d. 965), and al-Farazdaq (d. c. 729).154 To convey a
sense o f the length o f this concluding section o f poetry, I should state that while the first
letter, an edition o f which is appended to this study, is a little less than three and a half
pages in the manuscript, and the part o f the second letter I gave an account o f above a
little longer than four pages, the poetry cited occupies more than two and a half pages.155
Kadizade ends his second letter with these two lines, which are attributed to Abu al-Fath
al-Busti (d. 1010):156

Cultivate tolerance, enjoin justice, as you were ordered, and avoid the fools.
Speak gently to all of humankind as gentleness is deemed good for those who possess high
rank.

Before moving to the next section, I should address the possibility o f a forgery, which
my colleague Nicolas Vatin rightly raised when I presented, an earlier version o f this
study in Rethymno in 2015. The mecmua within which I located these letters add some
urgency to this question because Damadzade Ahmed, the Ottoman jurist who had it cop­
ied in 1714, could probably not be farther from the Kadizadelis, as he is definitely inter­
ested in Ibn Arabi and in what we may call the rational sciences, or al- ulûm al- 'aqliyya,
as evidenced by the contents o f the manuscript discussed in the first section. These were
far from popular subjects among the people who were inspired by Kadizade. In Cairo,
where the manuscript ended up or perhaps its original was copied,157 Kadizade’s name
meant something around 1714, when it was copied. The 1711 incident, in which Sufis
and their critics took their differences to the streets,158 was quite fresh in everyone’s

153 Kaplan, ‘Ça‘rânî’.

154 After some more research into the identification of this poetry, I am hoping to publish an edi­
tion of the second letter as well.
155 97 MTT, 50b-52a, 52a-54a, 54a-55b, respectively.
156 97 MTT, 55b; A. Qabbish, Majma' al-hikam w a’l-amthâl f i al-shi'r al-'arabï (Damascus
1979), 334. The words in italics in the first line are from the Qur’an, 7:199.
157 In addition to its current location, the quotation from al-Subki (see n. 12 above), a Mamluk era
Shafii scholar, could be cited in support of the possibility of a Cairene origin for the manuscript.
158 B. Flemming, ‘Die vorwahhabitische Fitna im osmanischen Kairo 1711’, in Jsmail Hakki
Uzunçarfih’y a Armagan (Ankara 1976), 55-65; R. Peters, ‘The Battered Dervishes of Bab
Zuwayla: a religious riot in eighteenth-century Cairo’, in Eighteenth Century Renewal and
Reform in Islam, eds N. Levtzion and J. O. Voll (Syracuse 1987), 93-115.
214 BAKITEZCAN

memory. So someone could have had a vested interest in producing a piece which would
demonstrate that even Kadizade him self respected Ibn Arabi.
But for such a demonstration, one would not need two letters, I believe. Furthermore,
identifying all the people who could possibly have been around Kadizade in the first
three decades o f his life would be quite difficult, especially if the letters were produced
so long after he died. Also, the long section o f poetry would definitely not come naturally
to a forger, while that section makes a lot o f sense, given Kadizade’s appreciation o f the
poetic medium for his message, which I touch upon in the next section o f this study.
Most importantly, however, there are two clues in the letters which tie them to Kadizade
very closely. The first is his attribution o f Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya’s Ighâthat al-lahfân
min masâ ’id al-shaytân to Ibn al-Jawzi. He repeats this misattribution, including the use
o f the word makâ 'id instead o f masâ ’id, in an advice work o f his which he presented to
Murad IV.159 And the second is one o f the very few pieces o f Turkish poetry he cites in
the long concluding section o f his second letter:16016
Ben ne topragim ki kendiim gosterem
[Satdugum kâh ola gendiim gosterem]
Hâcenündür cümle çün mal u menai
Kise-i dellâl olur ber-geçte

Kadizade must have been quite fond o f this quatrain, which he cites (without acknow­
ledging its author) from the well-known Ottoman Nakçibendi author and poet Lamiî (d.
1532)’s preface to his own compilation o f his poems, as he also inserts it also into the
introduction o f his Kitab-i makbul der hal-i huyul.m
A final question may be raised about the part o f the second letter in which Kadizade
takes a step back from his stance in the first and declares his peace with Ibn Arabi by
invoking the works o f al-Sharani. That part o f the letter is missing in the second copy o f
the letters, together with the section about Ibn Arabi immediately before it and the long
poetic section after it.162 Could that be a later addition to vindicate Ibn Arabi? I would
not think so because Kadizade had to persuade the Grand Mufti Hocazade Mehmed that
he would not revile Ibn Arabi. This was the second time complaints had been raised
about him. And more importantly, the Grand Mufti would certainly censor him for re­
viling Ibn Arabi. There is indeed a legal opinion o f Hocazade Mehmed in which he is

159 See Kadizade Mehmed, Mesmuatü ’n-nekayih mecmuatü ’n-nasayih, Süleymaniye Kütüphane-
si, Hüsrev Paça 629, f. 110a; compare n. 121 above. I will discuss the authorship of Mesmuat
in the next section, see below, n. 165fT.
160 97 MTT, 55a; the second line, which the copyist mistakenly skipped in the text of the manu­
script, has been inserted by a reader on the margin of the page.
161 Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, KM 420, 6b; Ser’atli, ed., 11; compare H. Tolasa, ‘Klasik
edebiyatimizda dîvân ônsôz (dibâce)leri: Lami’î Divâm onsôzü ve (buna gôre) divan çiiri san-
at gôrüçü’, JTS, 3 (1979), 385-402, at 398, where it reads “açüfte” instead of “ber-geçte”; but
the “ber-ge§te” variant is not unique, see Bursah Lami ’i Çelebi Divam ‘ndan seçmeler, ed. H.
B. Burmaoglu (Ankara 1989), 190.
162 See n. 138 above.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 215

consulted about an imam-preacher who curses Ibn Arabi and criticises his Fusüs. Ho-
cazade’s response is quite clear: if this man does not repent, he would lose his job and
be severely reprimanded.163 Whether or not this particular legal opinion concerned the
young Kadizade (and it very well might have), Kadizade must have known about Hoca-
zade’s stance on this issue and written his second letter accordingly once he heard about
a second round o f complaints about him. It is possible to imagine that an older Kadizade
who would have had the support o f the large masses he was going to appeal to at the
imperial mosques o f the capital in the 1620s and 1630s could have written a different
kind o f response. But at this point in time, he was ju st trying to hold on to his post at the
Murad Pasha Mosque and took a more conciliatory approach toward Ibn Arabi in his
second letter. Another possibility is that he indeed had changed his opinion about Ibn
Arabi.164 Either way, I will treat these letters as authentic. In the last section o f this study,
I will articulate some o f the implications o f the new pieces o f information that they pro­
vide. Before doing so, however, I would like to correct my own misattribution o f some
o f Kadizade’s works in the light o f these letters. This correction will also provide a few
additional biographical as well as bibliographical details about Kadizade.

Kadizade s works o f royal advice

There are three books o f royal advice that carry Kadizade’s name and were presented to
Murad IV. Yet ‘Kadizade M ehmed’ is a relatively common name; there are at least three
men who were called Kadizade Mehmed, lived in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth
centuries, and found a place in biographical dictionaries as preachers. Thus, perhaps it is
not surprising that the identification o f the authorship o f works which bear the name of
Kadizade Mehmed has proved to be prone to mistakes.
Tayyib Gôkbilgin introduced two o f the three works discussed in this section in 1957:
N ushü’l-hükkâm ve sebebü’n-nizam and M esmuatü'n-nekayih mecmuatii’n-nasayih}65
Gôkbilgin ascribed these two works to Kadizade ilm î M ehmed from Amasya.166 In 1962,
Agâh Sirri Levend introduced a translation o f Ibn Taymiyya (d. 1328)’s al-Siyâsa al-
Shar 'iyya entitled Tacü ’r-resail ve Minhacü ’l-vesail, also attributing it to Kadizade ilmî

163 Türk ve islam Eserleri Müzesi Kiitiiphanesi, 1841, f. 2a [actually, the third folio of the ma­
nuscript],
164 There is a treatise attributed to Kadizade on Ibn Arabi which starts with the statements he
made in these two letters and continues with a reference to al-Sharani’s al-Bahr al-mawrüd;
see Manisa il Halk Kütüphanesi, 2937, 120b-129b [45 Hk 2937/12], ff 120b-121a. Since I
came across to this treatise in the copyediting stage of the present work, I defer a detailed ex­
amination of its contents to another study; see n. 286 below.
165 Siileymaniye Kütüphanesi, Açir Efendi [AE hereafter] 327 and Hüsrev Pa§a [HP hereafter]
629, respectively. I have followed the spelling of the titles as they appear in the manuscripts,
see AE 327, f. 36b; and HP 629, f. la.
166 M. Tayyib Gôkbilgin, ‘XVII. asirda, Osmanli devletinde îslahat ihtiyaç ve temayülleri ve
Kâtip Çelebi’, in Kâtip Çelebi: hayati ve eserleri hakkinda incelemeler (Ankara 1957), 197-
218, at 211.
216 BAKITEZCAN

Mehmed from Amasya.167 ‘ilm f is indeed the pen name o f the author o f these works. In
the M esmuatii’n-nekayih the author introduces him self as “Çeyh Muhammed [Mehmed]
el-‘ilmî as-Sagîr, el-m a'rûf bi-Kâdïzâde” .168 In the N ushul-hükkâm , this pen name can
be found in some o f the parts in verse.169 This pen name is also used on the flyleaf of
Tacii’r-resail in identifying the author,170 as the author uses the pen name ‘ilm î’ in some
o f the poetry dispersed throughout the w ork.171 While Gôkbilgin and Levend’s attributi­
on o f these works to Kadizade Mehmed from Amasya was not followed by many others,
it is still worthwhile to explore this particular Kadizade, if for nothing else, in order to
rule out his authorship firmly.
What is known about Kadizade Mehmed from Amasya is very sketchy. Necdet Yil-
maz mentions him among the followers o f the Halved sheikh Abdülmecid Sivasî and his
nephew Abdillahad Nuri, who is regarded as the founder o f the Sivasiyye branch o f the
Halved order.172 Yet while most o f the followers o f Sivasî are attested by a late seven­
teenth-century Halveti author Mehmed Nazmî (d. 1701), this Kadizade Mehmed first ap­
pears as a follower o f Sivasî in the works o f Mehmed Tahir (d. 1925) and Hüseyin Vassaf
(d. 1929).173 The latter two are two late Ottoman/early republican authors who produced
invaluable biographical dictionaries but had little time to check the names and nicknames
o f the people whose biographies they provided, or the authorship o f the books they listed
in their biographical entries. Mehmed Tahir states that this Kadizade from Amasya died
in 1045/1635-6, the same year that the well-known Kadizade died in Istanbul.174 It was
most probably Mehmed Tahir whom Gôkbilgin followed when he attributed the Nushii 7-
hükkâm and the Mesmuatii ’n-nekayih to Kadizade from Amasya as he lists these titles

167 A. S. Levend, ‘Siyaset-nameler’, Turk Dili Araqtirmalari Yilligi-Belleten (1962): 167-194, at

179, n. 23. Levend’s remarks about a second copy of the work with a different title actually re­
fer to Nushul-hükkâm. Wilhem Pertsch had introduced the Tacur-resail, correctly identified
its author, and also noted A?ik Çelebi’s earlier Turkish translation of al-Siydsa al-Shar 'iyya in
his Verzeichniss der Türkischen Handschriften der Koniglichen Bibliothek zu Berlin (Berlin
1889), 278-279, #255.
168 Siileymaniye Kiitiiphanesi, HP 629, f. la.
169 See, for instance, Siileymaniye Kiitiiphanesi, AE 327, f. 14b.
170 Topkapi Sarayi Kiitiiphanesi, Hazine 371, f. la, where one also reads the designation “Seyy-
id”.
171 See, for instance, TSK, H 371, f. 4b.
172 N. Yilmaz, Osmanli toplumunda tasavvuf: sufiler, devlet ve ulema (XVII. Yiizyil) (Istanbul
2001), 201.
173 See Cengiz Gündogdu, ‘Abdulmecîd-i Sîvâsî: hayati, eserleri ve tasavvufi gôrüçleri’, unpub­
lished Ph.D. dissertation, Atatürk Üniversitesi, 1997, 157-166; Gündogdu reads his name as
“Kadizade §eyh Kôpük Mehmed Efendi”, 164; compare Osmanzade Hüseyin Vassaf, Sefme-i
Evliya, eds M. Akkuç and A. Yilmaz, 5 vols (Istanbul 2006), 111:483; Mehmed Nazmî Efen­
di, Hediyyetul-lhvan, ed. Osman Türer in Osmanlilarda Tasavvufi Hayat: Halvetîlik Ôrnegi
(Istanbul 2005), 470-480; Bursah Mehmed Tahir, Osmanli Miiellifleri, 3 vols (Istanbul 1333-
1342), 1:153.
174 Tahir, Osmanli Müellifleri, 1:153; Vassaf, Sefine-i Evliya 111:483, compare Yilmaz, Osmanli
toplumunda, 202, n. 1.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 217

under his w orks.175 While the pen name ‘ilm î’ is not mentioned by either o f these two
authors, Hiiseyin Vassaf notes that he was a Halveti sheikh and identifies him as “Kadi-
zade $eyh Küçük M uhammed Efendi”, perhaps on the basis o f the self-identification of
the M esmuatii’n-nekayih’s author as “§eyh M uhammed [Mehmed] el-‘ilm î as-Sagîr, el-
ma' rûf bi-Kâdïzâde” . Mehmed Tahir and Hiiseyin Vassaf both state that he was a student
o f Zileli Abdurrahman, became one o f the halifes o f Abdülmecid Sivasî, preached at the
Bayezid Mosque in Amasya, and was hurried next to Pir Ilyas Halveti. While Amasyah
Abdizade mentions him as well and confirms his preaching at the Bayezid Mosque in
Amasya (noting his death date as 1044/1634-5 and his pen name as ilmî), Mehmed Tahir
probably had recourse to another source, as some o f the information he provides is either
not found or different (such as the date o f Kadizade’s death) in Abdizade’s w ork.176
Four (or five) o f the seven works attributed to this Kadizade from Amasya by Hii­
seyin Vassaf and Mehmed Tahir are not his. The authorship o f the Nushü ’l-hükkâm and
the M esm uatü’n-nekayih will be discussed below in some detail. The Kitab-i makbul
der hal-i huyul, which Hiiseyin Vassaf attributes to this Kadizade from Amasya, belongs
to the well-known Kadizade o f Balikesir. Perhaps the self-identification o f Kadizade in
the preface o f his book on horses as the preacher o f the Mosque o f Bayezid led Hiiseyin
Vassaf and M ehmed Tahir to attribute this work to Kadizade o f Amasya, who was also
known to have preached at the Mosque o f Bayezid - but the one in Am asya.177 The
confusion o f M ehmed Tahir is apparent as he also lists the same title under the works of
the well-known Kadizade from Balikesir.178 The N id d ü ’l-ahbâb kahrii'l-bab in Hiiseyin
Vassaf’s list o f the works o f Kadizade from Amasya, which Mehmed Tahir identified as
Nehru ’l-ashab ve kahrü ’s -sibâb, must be Nasr al-ashàb wa ’l-ahbâb wa qahr al-kilâb al-
sibâb f i radd al-Râfida, a title which Kâtip Çelebi, and, following him, Bagdatli Ismail
Pasha, identify as one o f the works o f the well-known Kadizade o f Balikesir.179 Also, the

175 Tahir, Osmanli Miiellifleri, 1:153; Vassaf lists them, too, 111:483; however, Vassaf’s work was
not widely accessible until recently.
176 Abdizade Hiiseyin Hiisameddin [Yaçar], Amasya Tarihi, 5 vols (1328/1330 [1912J-35), 1:222,
IV:70; for Pir ilyas Halveti and his tomb, see ibid., 1:188, 225; for the previous preacher at the
same mosque, see IV:51; for Zileli Abdurrahman, see IV: 19; for the probable father and brot­
hers of this Kadizade, see IV: 16.
177 There are several reasons why Kadizade Mehmed from Amasya may not have been the au­
thor of the Kitab-i makbul. If the author had been the preacher of the Mosque of Bayezid in
Amasya, one would expect the identification of the city on the title page of the manuscript as
the first Mosque of Bayezid to come to mind in Istanbul would be the one in the same city.
Also, most of the manuscripts of the work are in Istanbul libraries. And the few Anatolian li­
braries which hold a copy do not seem to include any in Amasya; see the online catalogue of
manuscripts in Turkey at http://yazmalar.gov.tr. For a discussion of the well-known Kadizade
Mehmed’s appointment to the Mosque of Bayezid, see n. 196 below.
178 Tahir, Osmanli Miiellifleri, 1:402.
179 Vassaf, Sefine-iEvliya, 111:483; Tahir, 1:153; Kâtib Çelebi, Kefl-el-zunun, II, 1955. Afyon Ge-
dik Ahmed Paça Kütüphanesi, manuscript No. 17180, which Yilmaz, Osmanli toplumunda,
202, n. 8, identifies as the work in question which is attributed to Kadizade from Amasya is
a copy of the Nasr al-ashab by the well-known Kadizade Mehmed as it starts (f. 2b) with the
218 BAKI TEZCAN

Risale-i Regaibiyye which is to be found in the list o f the works o f Kadizade Mehmed of
Amasya might well refer to the treatise which Kadizade mentions as his own in his au­
tobiographical letter.180 In short, the attribution o f any work to this Kadizade o f Amasya
has to be treated very carefully.
Having read Mehmed Çimçek’s unpublished Ph.D. dissertation (1977), which dis­
cusses Kadizade’s works, Ocak attributed the Tacii 'r-resail to the well-known Kadizade
in 1983.181 Ôztürk in 1981 and Çavuçoglu in 1990 did so as well.182 And they had good
reason: the author identified him self as Ҥeyh M uhammed [Mehmed] bin Mustafa el-
m a'rû f bi-K idïzâde”.183 While one does not know the paternal name o f Kadizade Meh­
med from Amasya, the name o f the well-known Kadizade’s father was certainly Mustafa.
Moreover, the fact that the Tacü ’r-resail was a translation o f Ibn Taymiyya’s al-Siyâsa
al-Shar 'iyya was probably seen as a good reason for being sure about this attribution. A
medieval Muslim scholar who is very well-respected by twentieth-century Salafis was
seen as a reasonable model for Kadizade, who spent a lot o f his energy on opposing
bid'at (innovation).
In 2 0 0 1 ,1 indicated that all o f the three works discussed in this section most probably
are those o f yet another Kadizade Mehmed who was a contemporary o f the well-known
Kadizade.184 This Kadizade Mehmed was, like the Kadizade Mehmed from Amasya, a
Halveti sheikh and had preceded the well-known Kadizade as the preacher o f the Aya
Sofya (Hagia Sophia), to which post he was appointed in 1033/1624.185 My reasoning
behind this supposition was based on the introduction o f Nushü ’l-hükkâm, in which the
author relates a conversation he had had with the late Grand Mufti Esad after he had
given a sermon in Aya Sofya. Thus the author’s preaching career at Aya Sofya seemed to
have started before Esad died in 1625, which would rule out the well-known Kadizade
o f Balikesir, who was appointed to the Aya Sofya in 1041/1631-2. Moreover, the author

first words that Kâtip Çelebi notes in his bibliographical entry. Even though Kâtip Çelebi does
not refer to Balikesir in his references to Kadizade Mehmed, the fact that he does not need to
specify the particular Kadizade he has in mind suggests that he is referring to the one from Ba-
hkesir because that is the one he knows most closely as attested by his autobiographical wri­
tings; see his Balance o f Truth, 135-136. Bagdatli Ismail Pa§a, who uses Kâtip Çelebi’s bib­
liographical work to create a biographical dictionary of authors, identifies three works as be­
longing to Kadizade Mehmed from Balikesir; see Hadiyyat al- ‘Ârifîn, 11:277; compare Kâtib
Çelebi, Ke$f-el-zunun, 1:66; 11:1461, 1955; Kâtip Çelebi mentions three more works in con­
nection with the name Kadizade Mehmed, the last couple of which most probably are those of
the well-known Kadizade from Balikesir; see Kesf-el-zunun, 1:105, 868, 894.
180 See n. 109 above.
181 Ocak, ‘XVII. Yiizyilda’, 216, n. 27; for the full reference to M. §imçek’s work, see 211, n. 6.
182 Ôztürk, ‘Islamic orthodoxy’, 154-155; Çavuçoglu, ‘The Kâdïzàdeli movement’, 93.
183 This self-reference with paternal name is to be found in two copies of the Tacü’r-resail, see
Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Haci Mahmud Efendi 1926, f. 12a, and Pertsch, 278.
184 B. Tezcan, ‘Searching for Osman: A Reassessment of the Deposition of the Ottoman Sultan
Osman II (1618-1622)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 2001,252, 376,
n. 91; see also B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire, 125, n. 43.
185 Atayi, 765.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 219

o f the Nushü ’l-hükkâm states that he had presented a previous version o f the same work
to the Grand Vizier Murad Pasha, who passed it on to Ahmed I (r. 1603-17). Murad
Pasha was Grand Vizier from 1606 to 1611, a period during which the presence o f the
well-known Kadizade in Istanbul was not reported in any source. So I assumed that even
if Kadizade had arrived from Bahkesir in Istanbul, as a young immigrant from a small
north-west Anatolian town, he would not have the necessary patronage connections to
present his work to a Grand Vizier. The elder Kadizade Mehmed was also an immigrant
to Istanbul. Yet he was attested to have become the sheikh o f the Halveti convent endo­
wed by Sokollu Mehmed Pasha upon the death o f his master, Vaiz Emir, in 1015/1606-
7.186187Therefore he could have had the kind o f connections that would enable him to
present his work to the Grand Vizier. I did not provide these details back in 2001 as the
question o f the authorship o f these works was not central to the argument I was making,
which was the rising significance o f preachers in Ottoman politics. Since then, Derin
Terzioglu has published a very thorough comparison between Asik Çelebi (d. 1572)’s
Mi 'racii ‘l-eyâle ve minhacü ’l-adâle and the Tacii ’r-resail, clearly demonstrating that the
latter was very much a wholesale ‘borrowing’ from Açik Çelebi’s earlier translation of
Ibn Taymiyya’s al-Siyâsa al-Shar 'iyya. She also made a case for the elder and lesser-
known Kadizade having been the scholar who made this ‘borrowing’ without a single
reference to the actual translator and having authored both the Nushü ’l-hükkâm and the
Mesmuatü ’n-nekayih.lil
The biographical details about the well-known Kadizade provided by his letters to the
Grand Mufti Mehmed, however, remove some o f the reasons which led Terzioglu and
m yself to attribute the three advice works mentioned above to the elder Kadizade. Not
only did Kadizade arrive in Istanbul, but also started a preaching career before he turned
twenty. He stood in for his Halveti sheikh Orner at an imperial mosque while the latter
attended a military campaign a few years before Murad Pasha was appointed to the grand
vizierate, and his name became sufficiently well known soon after - so much so that his
adversaries filed complaints with the Grand Mufti, most probably during the tenure of
Murad Pasha as Grand Vizier. It is not difficult to imagine how an earlier version o f his
stem tone o f his later years, which was going to bring him close to Murad IV, could have
appealed to Murad Pasha, who was also well known to have been a political leader with
an iron fist. While Kadizade does not refer to any treatise o f advice which he presented
to a Grand Vizier in his autobiographical letters, he might well have written the Nushü 7-
hükkâm in the immediate aftermath o f the second letter with a view to securing strong
political allies against his adversaries.

186 Atayî, 597, 765.

187 D. Terzioglu, ‘Bir tercilme ve bir intihal vakasi: Ya da ibn Teymiyye’nin Siyasetii’f-
çer'iyye’sini Osmanhcaya kim(ler) nasil aktardi?’, JTS, 31 (2007), 247-275; for another ar­
ticle which compares Açik Çelebi’s translation with Kadizade’s ‘borrowing’ of it (identifying
the ‘borrower’ as the well-known Kadizade of Bahkesir without a reference to Terzioglu’s
work), see A. H. Furat, ‘Selefiligin Osmanhya etkisi baglarmnda kullamlan bir argtiman: ibn
Teymiye’nin Es-Siyâsetü’ç-Çer’iyye isimli eserinin Osmanli dünyasmda XVI. ve XVII. asir-
daki terciimeleri’, Marife: Bilimsel Birikim, 9 (2009): 215-226.
220 BAKITEZCAN

Another piece o f evidence indicating Kadizade’s proximity to the upper echelons of

the imperial capital is provided by Kâtip Çelebi, who notes that Kadizade wrote a treatise
on the mizan, or the (divine) scale, on the suggestion o f the Grand Mufti Sunullah (d.
1612), who held the office o f Grand Mufti four tim es(1599-1601, 1603,1604-06, 1606-
OS). If Kadizade had managed to accumulate enough intellectual and political capital in
the early years o f the seventeenth century for a Grand Mufti to suggest to him writing
a treatise on a subject which had been treated by the towering figure o f Kemalpaçazade
earlier,188 he might very well have been able to present a treatise to the Grand Vizier
too. Thus it might be worthwhile to have another look at the passage in the the Nushii 7-
hükkâm where the author and Esad both refer to the author’s sermon in Aya Sofya:

Ve dahi bu kitab-i çerifin tahririne sebeb bu olmuijdur ki bu fakir Avasofva-i kebirde bir gun
va‘z itmege canib-i saltanatdan memur olub ve emre imtisal etdügümüzden üc gün sonra mer-
hûm ve mebrur Esad Efendi hazretlerine ziyarete vardum. Buyurdilar ki “Ayasofya’da gayet
eyü ve nafi ve câmi va'z itmiçsiz. Cemi huzzar-i meclis va'zmizi istihsan ve istisvab itmiçler.
Hattâ âdaniz bile gayet eyülügüne çehadet etdiler. Al-fadl ma shahidat bi-hi al-a‘dâ mânasi
sizde zahir oldi. Rica olunur ki anda tefsir olinan ayati ve nakl olman hikâyati ?imdi bize tekrar
tefsir ve nakl buyurasiz.”189

While I had understood the underlined part as a reference to the beginning of the elder
Kadizade’s appointment to Aya Sofya, it could also lend itself to be understood in a way
to suggest that the author was instructed by the young Sultan, or one o f his or his mother
Kosern Sultan’s agents, to give a sermon in Aya Sofya for one day, which was not unusu­
al.190 Thus one could interpret this passage as a reference to a special sermon rather than
the beginning o f a regular appointment, which, in any event, would not really be made
by the sultanate but the senior leadership o f the lords o f the law, most probably by one
o f the senior justices (Anadolu or Rumeli kadiaskeri) or, in the case o f imperial mosques
like Aya Sofya, the Grand M ufti.191

188 Kâtib Çelebi, Keçf-el-zunun, 11:894; TDVIA s.v. ‘Sun‘ullah Efendi’ (M. Ipçirli); TDVÎA s.v.
‘Mîzan’ (S. Toprak); s.v. ‘Kemalpaçazâde’, 244. While the fact that Kadizade does not list this
treatise among his works in the letters studied here might cast some doubt on his authorship
of such a treatise, Kâtip Çelebi should be regarded as a reliable source on Kadizade as he was
one of his students in the late 1620s; Balance, 135-136. It is possible that he wrote the treati­
se after the letters, since Sunullah was alive until 1612. Moreover, Kadizade’s treatise on the
mizan is also noted in the short biographical entry devoted to him by Mustafa bin Fath Allah
al-Hamawi (d. H.l 123/1711), Fawâ’idal-irtihâl wa-natâ'ij al-safarfiakhbâr al-qarn al-hâdï
‘ashar, ed. Abd Allah Muhammad al-Kandari, 6 vols (Beirut 2011), 11:18. Unfortunately, I
could not identify a copy of this treatise the first sentence of which is copied by Kâtip Çelebi
in his bibliographical entry.
189 Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, AE 327, f. 36a.
190 See, for instance, Hilseyin Vassaf, Sefine-i Evliya, 111:157.
191 For an anecdote about the appointment of a caller to prayer which involves the judge of Istan­
bul and the senior justice of the Asian provinces, see B. Tezcan, ‘Dispelling the Darkness: The
Politics of ‘Race’ in the Early Seventeenth Century Ottoman Empire in the Light of the Life
and Work of Mullah Ali’, in Identity and Identity Formation in the Ottoman World: A Volume
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 221

Clearly, the new biographical details do not necessarily prove the well-known
Kadizade’s authorship o f the three works under discussion. Yet they do open some room
to consider this possibility one more time. In order to do so, however, one also needs to
address the question o f Kadizade’s pen name. On the title page o f the Kitab-i makbul
der hal-i huyul, the author refers to him self as “Çeyh Muhammed el-Millî el-V â‘iz fî
câm i‘-i Sultân Bâyezîd el-velî...”, and in the work itself as “Çeyh Muhammed el-m a'rûf
bi-Kâdïzâde”.192 Thus if the well-known Kadizade had a pen name, it must have been
Millî, although he does not use this pen name in the main text o f the Kitab-i makbul der
hal-i huyul, a book that Kadizade must have completed by 1622, when Osman II, to
whom the work was dedicated, was deposed and executed. Yet the author o f the three
works discussed in this section uses the pen name ilmî. While it is not unheard o f for
someone to change his (or her) pen name, as exemplified by the well-known story o f the
great seventeenth-century master o f both panegyric and satire N ef î, who was a contem­
porary o f all the Kadizades mentioned so far and had started his career as a poet with
the pen name Zarrî and later adopted NefT upon A li’s advice,193 in order to entertain this
possibility in the case o f the well-known Kadizade, one has to establish that he did have
some pieces in verse with the pen name ilmî. Evliya Çelebi attributes this pen name
to him, but he is as confused about the two Kadizades within a few decades o f their
deaths, as I was in 2001. In his short biography o f the well-known Kadizade, he men­
tions, instead o f Balikesir, Sofia as his birthplace, which is actually the birthplace o f the
elder Kadizade according to Atayî.194 Since the well-known Kadizade’s authorship o f the
three works discussed in this section is still in question, the evidence for his use o f the
pen name ilm î has to come from other works which can be attributed to him beyond any
doubt. Thanks to the more recent studies on Kadizade, this attribution can now be made
in two separate works o f his.
Sebahat Deniz published in 2008 a short piece by the well-known Kadizade of
Balikesir in which he clearly uses the pen name ilmî. This piecé, entitled Duanâme, or
the “book o f prayer”, consists o f 107 couplets and is dedicated to Murad IV, probably
soon after his enthronement in 1623. The author introduces him self as “Sultan Bayezid-i
V eli... Cami-i çerifinde hâlâ v a iz ünâsih olan §eyh M uhammed ilm î daileri”.195 Accord­

o f Essays in Honor o f Norman Itzkowitz, eds. B. Tezcan and K. K. Barbir (Madison 2007), 73-
95, at 81. For the role of the Grand Mufti in preaching appointments to the imperial mosques
in the late eighteenth century, see M. Akgündüz, Osmanli dôneminde vâizlik (Istanbul 2016),
25-26.
192 Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Kadizade Mehmed 420, f. la, 5b; 97 MTT, f. 57a, 58b.
193 TDVIA s.v. ‘N ef f (M. Akku?).
194 Evliya Çelebi, 164-165; compare Atayî, 765.
195 Deniz identified two copies of this work in two mecmuas: Bayezid Devlet Kütüphanesi, Ve-
liyüddin 1801, and TSK, Emanet Hazinesi 739. This quotation is from the latter, f. 114b; the
former, f. 84a, also identifies “Çeyh Muhammed ilmî” as the contemporary preacher at the
Mosque of Sultan Bayezid; see S. Deniz, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed Îlmî’nin Sultan IV. Murad için
yazdigi manzum Duânâme’si’, Divan Edebiyati Ara^tirmalari Dergisi, 1 (2008), 9-40, at 28,
and 28, n. **.
222 BAKITEZCAN

ing to Uççakizade (d. 1724), the well-known Kadizade was appointed to preach at the
Mosque o f Sultan Bayezid in 1032/1622-23; contemporary sources suggest that he held
this position earlier, at the latest in 1031/1622.196 Moreover, the elder and lesser known
Kadizade is not attested to have preached at any major mosque before his appointment
to Aya Sofya in 1033/1624. Thus the Duanâme, in which the name Kadizade and the
pen name Îlmî are both mentioned together, must be that o f the well-known Kadizade of
Bahkesir.
More recently, in a well-researched m aster’s thesis, Songiil Karaca studied Kadizade’s
book o f akaid (tenets o f faith), which is more than 1,500 verses long and was completed
in 1037/1627-8. There are several verses in which the author uses the pen name Îlm î.197
And in several manuscripts the author is identified by this pen name.198 This work must
be the one which the author o f the Mesmuatii ’n-nekayih refers to as his akaid work in
verse.199 While these references could also be understood as indicating the authorship of
the elder Kadizade, who might have used the same pen name, Karaca states that the 107
verses o f the Duanâme, the authorship o f which is certainly to be identified with that of
the well-known Kadizade because o f the self-identification o f the author as the preacher
at the Mosque o f Bayezid, are taken from this work.200

196 Uççakizade, ‘Usâqîzâde s Lebensbeschreibungen berühmter Gelehrter und Gottesmânner des

osmanischen Reiches im 17. Jahrhundert (Zeyl-i Saqâ ’iq), facs. ed. H. J. Kissling (Wiesbaden
1965), 44; Uççakizade most probably based this date on the assumed death date of Kadizade’s
predecessor at this mosque, Birgilizade Fazlullah. Atayî does not give a precise date for Fa-
zlullah’s death, noting that he passed away towards the end of the second reign of Mustafa I
(1622-1623). Since Kadizade represents himself in this position in his preface to Kitab-i mak-
bul while Osman II (1618-1622) was still alive, this death date might be at least a year off; or
perhaps Fazlullah retired from the pulpit before he died and passed his position to Kadizade,
who had succeeded him in his previous appointment at the Mosque of Selim I as well; Atayî,
675, compare p. 221 above. Bostanzade confirms Kadizade’s position at the Mosque of Baye­
zid in 1622 when he refers to him as the preacher of that mosque while he narrates the rebel­
lion that led to the deposition of Osman II, see O. Ç. Gôkyay, ‘II. Sultan Osman’m Çehadeti’,
in Atsiz Armagam, eds E. Güngôr, et al. (Istanbul 1976), 187-256, at 206; Bostazade Yahya,
Vak‘a-i Sultân 'Osmân Hân, TSK, Revan 1305, f. 18a.
197 S. Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed Efendi, Manzûme-i Akâid (Inceleme-Tenkitli Metin-Sôzlük-
Dizin)’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Recep Tayyip Erdogan Üniversitesi, 2012, 191, 197, 201
(in a subtitle), 203, 215, 223, 225, 226, 246, 268, 274, 302, 326. For another thesis on this
work which includes a modem Turkish translation of it, see B. Büyükkeçeci, ‘Kadizâde Ilmî
Efendi’nin ‘itmâmü’l-merâm min nazmi’l-kelam’ adh eserinin tahlil, çeviri ve degerlendiril-
mesi’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Erciyes Üniversitesi, 2005. Büyükkeçeci’s study is based on a
single manuscript, and she does not dwell upon the question of identifying the author. Karaca
looked at 16 manuscripts of the work and decided to use five of them for her critical edition;
see Karaca, 176-185.
198 Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 20, n. 72, 177, 178, 181, 185.
199 “Bir Turid manzum * cami-i akaid ü ulûm”, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, HP 629, f. 113a.
200 Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 26. It is indeed possible to identify every verse of the Duaname
in the Akaid in verse. Chronologically speaking, however, the relationship between the two
works might be slightly different. Most probably, Kadizade composed this Akaid in verse over
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 223

Moreover, Karaca identifies some parts o f the A kaid in verse which have been quoted
by others in reference to the well-known Kadizade o f Balikesir. One o f these quotations
is a couplet Kâtip Çelebi heard from Kadizade while he was following his lectures in
1041/1631-2:

Kelâm-i felsefe fiilse deger mi?

Ana sarrâf-i keyyis baç eger mi?201

Last, but not least, the contents o f the Akaid in verse point to the authorship o f the
well-known Kadizade o f Balikesir rather than a Halveti sheikh such as the elder and
lesser known Kadizade. As Karaca notes in some detail,202 the work does not employ
a hostile tone towards Sufism in general. On the contrary, as demonstrated by Karaca,
Kadizade adapts many verses written by Sufis, including some by Mahmud Hüdayi (d.
1628), a well-known sheikh who was still alive when Kadizade completed the Akaid in
verse, and makes them his own by editing them for his own purposes without mentioning
the source o f the verses.203 The Miskinnâme by Dede Ômer Ruçenî, a fifteenth-century
Halveti who came to be seen as the founder o f the Ruçeni branch o f the Halveti order, is
the object o f his most radical revisions, such as the ones in this couplet:

Tasavvuf terk-i evtandur dimiçler Tasavvuf terk-i isvandur dimiçler

Tasavvuf hecr-i ihvandur dimiçler Tasavvuf fikh-i Kur’andur dimiçler.204

While for Ru§eni Sufism is about leaving one’s hometown and separating oneself
from one’s brothers and friends in the couplet on the left, Kadizade declares it to be a

a period of time, incorporating into it pieces he wrote over the years. Thus he probably recy­
cled the verses he composed for Murad IV in different parts of the Akaid in verse; hence, the
dispersed nature of the Duanâme verses in this work. The 107 verses of Kadizade’s prayer
for Murad IV are either identical with or very close to the following 107 verses in the Aka­
id in verse (in the order of the Duanâme as edited by Deniz, with verse numbers referring to
Karaca’s edition of the Akaid in verse): 62-81, 547-555, 559-574, 514-533, 624-625 (note the
change in 625), 534-545, 1519-1520, 1244, 546, 558, 103-104, 106-114, 411, 115, 134-136,
138, 142, 1516-1517 (note the change in 1517), 556, 116, 418. Another work by Kadizade
the relationship of which with this Akaid in verse is identified by Karaca is a 137 verse long
piece known as ‘Kaside-i Kadizade’, which was described by its editor as an akaid work in
verse; see Karaca, 26; M. Arslan, ‘Klasik türk edebiyati manzum dini eserlerinden bir ômek,
manzum akaid risalesi: Kasîde-i Kadizâde’, in idem, Osmanli edebiyat-tarih-kültür makale-
leri (Istanbul 2000), 115-128. This latter piece might be a selection from the complete work
or an early version of it before Kadizade completed it. Arslan had not identified the author of
the piece he published as he did not have sufficient evidence to attribute it to one of the many
Kadizades who could have authored it, see 117-118.
201 Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 24, 207; Kâtip Çelebi, Mîzanü’l-hakk, ed. Gôkyay, 114.
202 Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 111-115.
203 Karaca compares these verses with their original forms in Hüdayî’s work, indicating
Kadizade’s alterations in bold, see 78-84.
204 Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 62; for Kadizade’s other revisions on Ruçenî’s work, see 61-64.
224 BAKI TEZCAN

categorical rejection o f rebellion and the adoption o f the jurisprudence o f the Q ur’an.
After adapting 43 verses from Ruçenî without acknowledging him, Kadizade continues
by raising his voice against some Sufi practices, such as whirling. According to him, no
other body part than one’s tongue should move during the dhikr ceremony:

Çular kim zikr iderken raks iderler Olur raksun soni her vech-ile naks
Tasavvuf ismin anlar naks iderler Ki zira Sarnin ihdasidur raks

Dilünden gayn depretme vücudun Salâtda hem gerekdür togri turmak

Meger ola rükû ile sücudun Haram oldi bil anda da sahnmak.205

These four couplets align well with what we know about Kadizadeli arguments on
the subjects o f “singing, dancing, and whirling”, and further strengthen the identification
o f the author, who uses the penname Ilmi, with the well-known Kadizade o f Balikesir.206
The other Kadizade, who was a Halved sheikh at the convent o f Mehmed Pasha in the
Kadirga neighbourhood o f Istanbul,207 would probably have had different opinions on
these issues even if he might not have been as vocal about them as one o f his contempo­
rary Halvetis, Sivasi, who entered into debates with the well-known Kadizade.
These new pieces o f evidence indicating the use o f the penname ilm i by the well-
known Kadizade, coupled with the evidence o f his autobiographical letters which es­
tablish his presence in Istanbul at the very beginning o f the seventeenth century as an
already talked-about preacher, suggest that Kadizade o f Balikesir might well have been
the author o f the three works discussed in this section.
Another piece o f evidence which supports the attribution o f these three works to
the well-known Kadizade is the above-mentioned self-identification o f the author of
the M esmuatii’n-nekayik. “Seyh Muhammed [Mehmed] el-‘ilmî as-Sagîr, el-m a'rûf
bi-Kâdïzâde”. “As-Sagîr” could be understood as small or young, just like the Turkish
adjective küçük, which was used with reference to the well-known Kadizade in order
to distinguish him from the other Kadizade who preceded him at Aya Sofya. Since the
lesser-known Kadizade was identified with the adjective ‘kebir’ or ‘büyük’ by his con­
temporaries, including some members o f his own Halveti order, he would definitely not
identify him self as “as-Sagir”, and this work must belong to the well-known Kadizade.208

205 Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 313.

206 Kâtib Chelebi, The Balance o f Truth, 38-46.
207 D. Kuban, ‘An Ottoman Building Complex of the Sixteenth Century: The Sokollu Mosque
and its Dependencies in Istanbul’, Ars Orientalis, 7 (1968), 19-39; for an earlier depiction, in­
cluding a note about this Kadizade’s burial there, see Ayvansarâyî, Hadikatü’l-cevâmi', 259;
and for the identification of the extant tombstones, see J.-L. Bacque-Grammont, H.-P. La-
queur, and N. Vatin, Stelae Turcicae II: cimetières de la mosquée de Sokollu Mehmed Paça
à Kadirga Limam, de Bostanci Ali et du turbe de Sokollu Mehmed Posa à Eyüb (Tübingen
1990); the lesser-known Kadizade’s tombstone is not extant, but his predecessor’s is, see ibid.,
105-106.
208 For the use of Büyük and Küçük with respect to the two Kadizades, see Yilmaz, Osmanli top-
lumunda, 125-126; for contemporary usage, see Topçular Katibi (Abdülkadir Efendi tarihi,
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 225

The close relationship between the Mesmuatii ’n-nekayih and the Tacii ’r-resail was alre­
ady pointed out by Terzioglu, who identified the source o f one o f the few additions made
by Kadizade to the original translation o f Açik Çelebi in the text o f the Mesmuatii ’n-
nekayih. Coincidentally, the very source o f this addition, which repeats a mistaken attri­
bution o f the authorship o f a medieval work by Kadizade in his autobiographical letters,
points more to Kadizade o f Balikesir than the lesser-known Büyük Kadizade.209210Since
there is a similarly close relationship between the texts o f the M esmuatii’n-nekayih and
the Nushü ’l-hiikkâm 2]0 all o f these three texts might be assumed to have been authored
by him. Furthermore, just as it is possible to identify some o f the verses the well-known
Kadizade wrote for Murad IV in the Duanâme in his slightly later Akaid in verse, it is
also possible to recognise some verses from both o f them in the Nushü ’l-hiikkâm, in­
cluding one with his pen name ilmî, strengthening the case for Kadizade o f Balikesir’s
authorship o f the Nushü ’l-hükkâm.211
There are two further clues connecting these texts with the well-known Kadizade.
One o f them is the story about Abu Yusuf and the caliph who is mentioned by Kadizade in
his autobiographical letter. This story is related, this time in Turkish, in the Mesmuatii
nekayih as well.212 The other is a longer section about the four classes o f mankind, that is
the men o f the sword, the men o f the pen, the men o f trades, and the men o f agriculture.

11:1177): “Meçayih-i izamlardan ... Kadizade-i Kebir Efendi, Kadizade Efendi...”, where the
“Kebir” (corresponding to ‘büyük’) must refer to the lesser-known Kadizade, as Topçular Ka-
tibi refers to the other one simply as “Kadizade” during the Revan campaign of Murad IV and
the time of his death (ibid., 11:1009, 1041). The lesser-known Kadizade is described as “Bü­
yük Kadizade §eyh Mehmed Sofyavî”; see Ayvansarayî, Hadikatü ’l-cevami, 259. Most im­
portantly, Mehmed Nazmï, who was bom the year before the lesser-known Kadizade’s appo­
intment to the Aya Sofya and was a committed Halveti, refers to him as “Büyük” Kadizade
(Nazmï, 507, 510), and he mostly refers to the well-known Kadizade simply as Kadizade, or
in one instance, as “Küçük” Kadizade (Nazmï, 432, 510, 512, n. 69). In 2001,1 interpreted this
adjective as one that differentiated the author from other poets who used the pen name ilmî,
such as Remzizade Mehmed, Edimeli Ahmed Çelebi, or Manisah Gmayizade; see Atayî, 414;
es-Seyyid Riza (d. 1672), Tezkire-i Riza, ed. A. Cevdet, (Istanbul 1316), 74-75. But it makes
more sense to read it in parallel with the contemporary references to the two Kadizades in Is­
tanbul.
209 Terzioglu, ‘Sufi and Dissident’, 268, n. 92. This addition, which is not found in the Topkapi
manuscript of the Tacii’r-resail (see H. 371, f. 3b), is a summary from the Ighathat al-lahfan
‘an/min maka’id al-shaytan, which Kadizade mistakenly attributes to Ibn al-Jawzi both in
his autobiographical letter (see above n. 121) and the Mesmuatii’n-nekayih (see Süleymaniye
Kütüphanesi, HP 629, f. 110a) while the actual author is Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya.
210 Compare Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, AE 327,23a (the end of the last line) - 26a, with HP 629,
36a-42b (except the part in verse, 36b-38b).
211 Compare Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, AE 327, f. 7b, lines 1-9, with Deniz, ‘Kadizâde Meh­
med’, 31-32, verses 30-33, 35, 34, 36-38; AE 327, f.lOb, lines 6-12, with Deniz, ‘Kadizâde
Mehmed’, 32, verses 39-45; f. 7b, the last two lines, with Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 305,
verses 1279-80; f. 10b, lines 3-4, with Karaca, ‘Kadizâde Mehmed’, 246-7, verses 622-623;
ilmî is on line 3, verse 622.
212 Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, HP 629, f. 53.
226 BAKI TEZCAN

The wording o f this section is quite similar in Kadizade’s Kitab-i makbul der hal-i huyul
and the Nushü'l-hükkâm.2X3 While a discussion o f this theme is commonly found in all
kinds o f literary sources and Kadizade borrowed it from Akhisan Hasan Kafr (d. 1616)’s
Usulii ’l-hikem f i nizami ’l-âlem,2H the 15- couplet-long piece o f poetry in it is Kadizade’s
own addition to the text o f Akhisarî (whom he does not mention at all) and is identi­
cal in the Kitab-i makbul der hal-i huyul and the N ushü’l-hükkâm.21324215 Since the former
work was attributed reliably to the well-known Kadizade by Kâtip Çelebi,216 one o f his
students who later became critical o f him, the presence o f this section in the Nushil 7-
hükkâm might be considered as yet another piece o f supporting evidence for identifying
the well-known Kadizade as the author o f the corpus o f the three texts discussed in this
section.
Finally, attributing these three texts, in two o f which the use o f narration in verse
is quite frequent,217 to the well-known Kadizade is more in line with their reputations.
Çeyhî Mehmed notes in his biographical entry for Kadizade Mehmed o f Bahkesir both
his extensive scholarly output (“miiteaddid risaleleri”) and his poetry which he describes
as “mixed with good advice (nasihat-amiz)”.218 Atayi, a contemporary o f both Kadiza-

213 Compare Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Kadizade Mehmed 420, 8b-12b; AE 327, 55b-57b.
214 M. ipçirli, ‘Hasan Kâfi el-Akhisarî ve devlet düzenine ait eseri Usûlü ’l-hikem f i nizâmi’l-
âlem’, Tarih Enstitiisii Dergisi, 10-11 (1979-1980): 239-278 [Hasan Kafi hereafter], at 251 -
253.1 should add that Kadizade borrows much more from Hasan Kafi in the Nushü ‘l-hükkâm;
compare, for instance, AE 327, 55a-55b, 57b-63a, 67a, 67b-69a, with Hasan Kafi, 249-251,
253-262, 263, 272-276.
215 Compare Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Kadizade Mehmed 420, f i l l ; AE 327, 56b-57a. I must
add, however, that Kadizade may be citing someone else’s poetry without mentioning the
name of the poet as he does earlier in the Kitab-i makbul when he cites Lamiî without ac­
knowledging him; see n. 161 above.
216 Kâtip Çelebi identifies the author of this work as Kadizade Mehmed bin Mustafa and states
the death date of the author as 1044. Although the well-known Kadizade died in 1045, this
seems to be a simple mistake that Kâtip Çelebi repeats in his bibliographical entries for other
works of Kadizade (as well as his incomplete biographical entry about him) and might not re­
fer to the other Kadizade who died in 1041 and whose patronym is not known; see Kâtib Çe­
lebi, Keçf-el-zunun, II, c. 1461, compare 1:66 (where he has Kadizade’s patronym as Mehmed
rather than Mustafa); 1:868; 11:1955; and 1:894 (where he gives his date of death as 1043); and
Sullam al-wusül ilâ tabaqât al-fuhül, ed. E. ihsanoglu, 6 vols (Istanbul 2010), 111:201; V:270.
Kâtip Çelebi was not in Istanbul in the last years of Kadizade Mehmed’s life (1043-1045); see
The Balance o f Truth, 137. While Kadizade joined Murad IV’s military expedition against the
Safavids, he returned from Konya in 1044, as he fell sick and died in 1045, which Kâtip Çelebi
notes in his Fezleke, 11:183. Perhaps when he wrote the relevant parts of the Sullam al-wusül
and Kashf al-zunün he took the date of Kadizade’s return from Konya as his death date and
corrected this mistake while he was working on the Fezleke, which he completed later; see
The Balance o f Truth, 143-144. While Ayvansarayi notes the burial place of the lesser-known
Kadizade, his tombstone, on which his paternal name could have been found, is no longer
there; see n. 207 above.
217 Both the Nushü ’l-hükkâm and the Mesmuatü ’n-nekayih include long pieces in verse.
218 Çeyhî Mehmed, Vekayiü 'l-fudalâ, 60.
 THE PORTRAIT OF THE PREACHER AS A YOUNG MAN 227

des, does not mention any scholarly works or poetry for the elder Kadizade, whose agree­
able appearance he notes extensively.219 While Tevfik, the author o f a nineteenth-century
biographical dictionary, states that Büyük Kadizade wrote some poetry, he notes his pen
name as §eyhï rather than Îlmî.220 Last but not least, contemporary historical sources
have various anecdotes about the closeness o f the well-known Kadizade to Murad IV
while Büyük Kadizade is not mentioned in any context with Murad IV.221
Even though the authorship o f the three works in this section can now firmly be at­
tributed to the well-known Kadizade, there are still some unanswered questions, such
as yet another pen name associated with the name o f Kadizade Mehmed. In some o f the
manuscripts o f the Kitab-i makbul der hal-i huyul, the author is identified as Kadizade
Füyûzî Mehmed in manuscript catalogues.222 This identification may well refer to
Enderûnî Füyûzî, who presented a treatise on horses, which he claims to have compiled
from Arabic sources, to M ustafa II upon his accession to the throne in 1695.223 A cursory
look at this work suggests that it is a minimally redacted version o f Kadrzade’s Kitab-i
makbul.224 Finally, as noted by Terzioglu, the manuscripts o f the Nushii ’l-hükkâm include
a variety o f references and many variants, which, if taken together, do not rule out the
possibility o f an appropriation o f an earlier work by Kadizade.225

219 Atayî, 765. Since Atayî died before the well-known Kadizade Mehmed, he could not have in­
cluded an entry for him in his biographical dictionary.
220 Tevfik, Mecmuatil’t-Teracim, istanbul Üniversitesi Kütüphanesi, Türkçe Yazmalar 192, f. 35.
221 See, for instance, Nazmî, 417, 459-461.
222 See, for instance, the records for the manuscripts Nuruosmaniye Kütüphanesi 3699 and 4990
on http://www.yazmalar.gov.tr.
223 F. E. Karatay, Topkapi Sarayi Müzesi Kütüphanesi Türkçe Yazmalar Katalogu, 2 vols. (Istan­
bul 1961), 11:383-84, #3063.
224 Tülay îrfanoglu studied two copies of this work (Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Flaci Mahmud
Efendi 2055, and Istanbul Üniversitesi Kütüphanesi, TY2181) in her M.A. thesis. While she
does not compare the work with Kadizade’s, the two are very similar from beginning to end;
see her ‘Füyuzi’nin Makbul Der Hal-i Huyul adh baytamamesi: Giriç-tenkitli metin-dizin’,
unpublished M.A. thesis, Marmara University, 2013, 20-50; compare Süleymaniye Kütüp­
hanesi, Kadizade Mehmed 420. In the nineteenth century, this work seems to have been re­
worked once again, this time by a certain Ali Hadi, to be presented to Abdülmecid (r. 1839-
1861); see Karatay, I: 591-592, # 1824-1825.1 must add, however, that I have not examined
Ali Hadi’s manuscripts myself, thus the extent of the ‘borrowing’ may be limited. Further­
more, yet another pen name which is used in the Nushü ’l-hükkâm is Feyzi (f. 71 b), which may
refer to Dursunzade Abdullah Efendi (d. 1610); see Riza, Tezkire-i Riza, 78 - Kadizade may
just have inserted a poem by Dursunzade, like the poems of Kemalpaçazade and Latifl he in­
serted in the Mesmuat, ff. 7a-8b, 26b.
225 I would like to thank Derin Terzioglu for sharing with me the details of her findings in the
Nushü’l-hükkâm, Istanbul University, Turkish manuscripts, 6966 [iÜ TY 6966 hereafter], f.
70a, which led her to think that the author must be the elder Kadizade who may have been
from Mostar rather than Sofia; see Terzioglu, ‘Bir tercüme ve bir intihal vakasi’, 266. While
according to Atayî, the elder Kadizade is supposed to have been from Sofia, Yilmaz states, on
the basis of later sources, that he was from Bosnia; Yilmaz, Osmanli toplumunda, 125-126.
Yet the expression on 1Ü TY 6966, f. 70a, which ascribes the authorship of a piece in verse
228 B A K lT E Z C A N

There are several other w orks w hich bear the nam e o f Kadizade, som e o f w hich have
been d iscu ssed by R efik Ergin in a recent M .A . th esis.226 Ergin is m istaken in ruling out
the tw o w orks w hich are attributed to him by M ehm ed Tahir, the Kitab-i makbul der hal-i
huyul and the Manàqib al-sahâba, as K adizade h im se lf lists the latter am ong his works
in his secon d autobiographical letter, and K ad izad e’s authorship o f the first is confirm ed
by Kâtip Ç elebi.227 B ut he seem s to be right in iden tifyin g the Risale-i Kadizade in the
Turkish N ational Library as a w ork w hich belon gs to him , as the w ork ’s contents cor­
respond to K adizad e’s ow n description o f his w ork on the special prayers, an Arabic ver­
sion o f w hich w as identified by Ôztürk.228 There are at least four other treatises in Turkish
w hich bear the sam e title but include different material listed by Ôztürk.229 Ergin is also
correct in claim ing K adizad e’s authorship for a treatise in Turkish know n under varying
titles such as llm -i hal, Iman ve îslâm , or Namaz, w h ich I w ill refer to as the treatise on
ritual prayer.230 A lthough Ergin attributes four other w orks to K adizade,231 as should be
clear by now, attributing a w ork to K adizade requires a lot o f caution, and som e o f the
treatises w hich Ergin identifies as b elon gin g to K adizade b elon g to N ush î, w h o se work
in Turkish w as recently studied in an ex cellen t article by Terzioglu, and w h o se identity
m ay n o w be ascertained as M uslihuddin M ustafa bin H am za bin Ibrahim bin V eliyüddin,
a Naksibendi w h o w as originally from B o lu but lived, probably for m any years, in C ai­
ro.232 B ut one o f the rem aining four deserves m ention here as it is one o f the m ore overtly
political w orks w hich this section is devoted to.

that follows the end of the text, which is marked with the Arabic expression tamma, to a cer­
tain Fazlî from Mostar, reads li-nâmiqihi al-haqïr Fazlî al-Müstârï, suggesting that Fazlî was
more likely to be the calligrapher of the manuscript than its author and simply added a piece
of his own in verse after he finished copying the main text that ended with tamma; compare
A. Gacek, The Arabic Manuscript Tradition: A Glossary o f Technical Terms and Bibliography
(Leiden 2001), 145.
226 R. Ergin, ‘islam düsüncesinde zahir-batin ayrimi açismdan Kadizadeliler ômegi’, unpublished
M.A. thesis, Selçuk Üniversitesi 2007, 61-68.
227 Ibid., 62; compare n. 216 above.
228 Ibid., 62-63; the manuscript in question is A 5237 in Milli Kütüphane, Ankara; the treatise is
on ff. 56b-91b; see also Ôztürk, ‘Islamic Orthodoxy’, 154.
229 Ôztürk, ‘Islamic Orthodoxy’, 158-159.
230 Ergin, 64-65; there are numerous copies of this treatise in libraries world-wide. They are most­
ly identified as “risale-i Kadizade”-, some of them include poems bearing his pen name ilmî.
Since the first sentence after the invocation of God includes the phrase “iman ve i s l â m that
phrase was noted as the title of the work in some manuscripts and catalogues. I have chosen to
refer to it as the treatise on ritual prayer as its contents are more focused on this subject; see,
for instance, EH 1739, 94b- 101a. Many copies of this treatise are to be found bound together
with two other popular works, Birgivî’s testament and Akhisarî’s treatise on it; see n. 261 be­
low.
231 Ergin, 64-67.
232 Compare Ergin, 64, 65-66, with D. Terzioglu, ‘Where flm-i hal Meets Catechism: Islamic
Manuals of Religious Instruction in the Ottoman Empire in the Age of Confessionalization’,
Past and Present, 220 (2013), 79-114, at 88 n. 20. For the identification ofNushî, see Karatay,
1:82, #239; Fihris al-makhtütât al-turkiyya, IV: 19, #4192; and M. i. Dônmez, ‘Kuçadah Mus-
 T H E PO R TR A IT OF T H E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 229

A socio-p olitical critique o f the Ottoman Empire in the first h a lf o f the seventeenth
century written in verse during the reign o f Murad IV has been attributed to K adizade
sin ce the early tw entieth century. This p iece w as first published by A li E m in , w h o iden­
tified the author as “«Îlm î» m uhallas K adizade Çeyh M ehm ed E fendi”, and noted the
author’s clo sen ess to M urad IV.233 A li Canib published selection s from it and n oted that
in the mecmua w here he found the p iece in the A m cazad e H iiseyin Pasha Library, the
author w as identified as “ Sultan B ayezid §eyh i K adizade” .234 M ore recently, Bayram
Orekli published another version he found in K onya.235 A fourth cop y o f the w ork is to
be found in a mecmua, m o st o f w hich seem s to be dedicated to the works o f K adizade
M ehm ed, the first o f w hich w as cop ied in 1 0 4 9 /1 6 3 9 -4 0 .236 Yet another cop y is in another
mecmua in the Kôprülü Library.237 Finally, tw o m ore cop ies w ere identified by Pertsch
in B erlin.238 The facts that in one cop y o f the p iece the author is identified w ith reference
to the m osque w here K adizade M ehm ed w as preaching at the begin ning o f the reign o f
Murad IV, in another his m ost com m on ly used pen nam e is m entioned, and the third is
included in a collection o f K adizade M eh m ed ’s w orks the first p iece o f w h ich w a s copied
only a few years after his death are, I b elieve, sufficien t to attribute this socio-p olitical
critique in verse to K adizade M ehm ed o f Balikesir. B ut there are enough differen ces bet­
w een the three cop ies published that it m ight be w orthw hile to produce a critical edition.

Conclusion: K adizade a n d the Kadizadelis in context

T he you ng K adizade w e are left w ith at the end o f this biographical and bibliographical
survey occasion ed by his autobiographical letters is som ew hat different from the one w e
know. H e cou ld apparently already draw the attention o f Grand M uftis and Grand V iziers
in his tw enties, so he had b ecom e a public figure before the reign o f Murad IV. H is educa­
tion w as m uch m ore nuanced and closer to the O ttom an madrasa education than in Kâtip

tafa bin Hamza ve ‘Netâicu’l-efkâr fî çerhi’l-izhâr’ adh eseri (inceleme ve tahkik)’, unpublis­
hed Ph.D. dissertation, Marmara Oniversitesi, 2013, 27-30.
233 [A. Emiri], ed., ‘Sultan Murad-i Rabi hazretlerinin gayet mutekid olduklan fuzalâ-yi meça-
yihden «Ilmî» muhallas Kadizade Çeyh Mehmed Efendi merhûm tarafmdan 1040 hududunda
ahval-i âlem hakkmda takdim edilen ve hakan-i mü?arün-ileyh hazretleri canibinden telâkki-i
bi-kabul buyunlan tarihi, kaside-i hamiyyet-piradir’, Osmanli Tarih ve Edebiyat Mecmuasi 2
(1335), 278-282, at 278.
234 A. Canib, ‘Tarihe vesika olacak eserlerden: Dôrdüncü Murad devrine dair Kadizade’nin bir
manzumesi’, Hayat 2 (1927), 3-5, at 3.
235 B. Orekli, ‘Dôrdüncü Murad devrine dâir Kadi-zâde’nin bir manzûmesi’, Selçuk Oniversitesi
Fen-Edebiyat Fakültesi Dergisi, 11 (1997), 277-300.
236 Topkapi Sarayi Müzesi Kütüphanesi, EH 1739 [EH 1739 hereafter], 140b-144b; the other
pieces by Kadizade contained in this manuscript include his Duanâme. Karatay dates the mec­
mua to H.1049/1639-1640, only a few years after the death of Kadizade and, most probably,
while Murad IV was still alive, but this date is the copy date of the first piece in it, which is
Kadizade’s Akaid in verse; see Karatay, 11:326-327, # 2902; compare, EH 1739, 67a.
237 Kôprülü Kütüphanesi, Ahmed Paça 345, 77a-79a.
238 Pertsch, Verzeichniss, 72, 89.
230 B A K IT E Z C A N

Ç eleb i’s representation. A nd w hen he w as pressured by consistent com plaints by pow er­
ful people, he knew h o w to be flexib le and alter his position v is-à -v is Ibn Arabi - at least
w hen he w as in his late tw en ties or early thirties. Perhaps m ost surprisingly, w e also learn
that after he left the H alveti order, he rem ained on the Sufi path, but in the Nakçibendi or­
der. T he self-portrait drawn by K adizade m akes him m ore com parable to A hm ad Sirhindi
(d. 1624), the South A sian N akçibendi w h o is regarded as the founder o f the M ujaddidi
( Miiceddidi) branch o f the order that later spread very w id ely in the Islam ic world. Inte­
restingly, Sirhindi is also know n for his efforts to recon cile Ibn A rabi’s thought w ith the
legal boundaries o f Islam, w hich K adizade seem s to have tried to do as w ell.239
K adizade’s N akçibendi affiliation m ay not be as surprising as it sounds.240 D ina Le
Gall had already show n us h o w som e N aksibendis w ere not shy o f allying th em selves
w ith the K adizadelis in the seventeenth century against other Sufi groups.241 M ore re­
cently, M ustapha Sheikh p ointed out the clo se relationship b etw een the “Naqshbandi
paradigm ” and the w ritings o f A kh isan A hm ed, a m ajor name o f the early seventeenth
century M uslim revivalism w h ich ev o lv ed into the K adizadeli m ovem en t.242 M ehm et
K alayci em phasized the c lo se affinity betw een the K adizadelis and the N aksibendis.243
With their silent practices o f rem em brance, or dhikr, the N aksibendis w ou ld not n ecessa ­
rily be offend ed by K ad izad e’s verbal assaults upon H alveti and M ev lev i rituals. A s for
K adizade, his Akaid in verse m akes it clear that he w as not against Sufism as such, so it is
not startling to learn that he w as a Nakçibendi. In Ottom an as w ell as Islam ic studies w e
have been accustom ed to com plain about the use o f the terms o f orthodoxy and Sufism
in opposition to each other, alw ays p lacin g orthodoxy in quotation marks. W hat w e see
here is clearly a tension b etw een different form s o f Sufism as exem plified by K adizade’s
Akaid in verse and in som e o f B irg iv î’s w ritings, w hich actually em brace m any Sufi prac­
tices w h ile rem aining critical o f w hirling and preferring silent dhikr. Similarly, K alayci
has recently drawn attention to the lon g history o f the tension b etw een ascetic Sufis w ho

239 Kadizade points to his Nakçibendi allegiance elsewhere as well; see his treatise on ritual
prayer in EH 1739, f. 100a, where he appropriates a verse by Lamii: “hem dahi ki asitan-i
Nakçibend’e intisabum var beniim”; Derin Terzioglu kindly noted that she saw the same ver­
se in another manuscript, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Yazma Bagiçlar 5563, f. 47a; compare
Lamiî as cited by Sehi Bey, Tezkire: Hest Behiçt [sic] (Istanbul 1980), 104. On Sirhindi, see
A. F. Buehler, Revealed grace: Thejuristic Sufism o f Ahmad Sirhindi (1564-1624) (Louisvil­
le 2011); for Sirhindi’s views on Ibn Arabi, see, among others, A. Ventura, ‘A letter of Sayh
Ahmad Sirhindi in defense of the wahdatal-wugüd’, Oriente Moderno 92 (2012): 509-17. For
Kadizade’s exposition of his views on Ibn Arabi, see n. 164 above.
240 What is suprising is Kadizade’s choice of a sheikh in Yalova rather than in the Ottoman impe­
rial capital; see n. 81 above.
241 Le Gall, ‘Kadizadelis, Nakçbendis’.
242 M. Sheikh, Ottoman Puritanism and its Discontents: Ahmad al-Rûmî al-Âqhisârï and the
Qâdtizâdelis (Oxford 2016), 56-66.
243 See, for instance, M. Kalayci, Osmanli Siinniligi: Tarihsel-Sosyolojik bir tahlil denemesi (An­
kara 2015), 256-67.1would like to thank the author for sending me a copy of this book, which
was not available in American research libraries.
 TH E PO R TR A IT OF T H E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M A N 231

are legal m inded and other Sufis w ho are reproached by the former.244 Perhaps it is tim e
to discard the counterposing o f orthodoxy and Sufism com pletely, and take Sufism as a
term w hich is as exp an sive as Islam, incorporating a w id e spectrum o f ideas and prac­
tices, som e o f w hich do not necessarily agree w ith others. Then on e could construe the
tension in question as one w hich arises around the question o f the definition o f orthodoxy
betw een different groups organised in accordance w ith their particular practices and un­
derstandings o f Islam w h ich have varying le v els o f so c io -e co n o m ic support, political
capital, and dedicated follow ers.
The m ost generously funded organised faith in Ottoman realm s w as, w ithout any
doubt, im perial Hanafi Islam , an um brella structure w hich channelled resources to dif­
ferent groups o f H anafi M u slim s including Sufis, esp ecia lly in the form o f sheikh (lead­
ership) appointm ents to convents and preaching appointm ents to m osques. K ad izad e’s
letters provide am ple ev id en ce that he and his posthum ous follow ers rem ained w ithin
the boundaries o f H anafi Islam even w hen they proclaim ed ideas that have been deem ed
extrem e by som e observers. For instance, w e can se e in these letters h o w K adizade could
defend a critical p osition regarding Ibn Arabi very ea sily from w ithin the Hanafi school.
One did not need to g o to Ibn Taym iyya, w hom K adizade d oes not seem to have read
at all in his early life; the Hanafi heritage w h ich O ttom ans respected so h ighly includes
som e very w e ll respected scholars w h o w ere utterly critical o f Ibn Arabi. Thanks to these
letters, w e learn that Ibrahim al-Halabi w as probably as strong an influence on K adizade
as w as B irgivî, a point w hich , I think, takes us further in the direction o f T erzioglu’s
w ork, w hich rem inds us that one did not need to be a Salafi to translate Ibn T aym iyya, as
exem plified by A$ik Ç eleb i and the fact that the K adizadelis utilised, am ong other things,
the w orks o f earlier O ttom an Hanafi scholars to pursue their argum ents.245
A l-H alabi w as no marginal figure. H e w as an Arab scholar w h o studied in A leppo,
D am ascus, and Cairo, and then m o v ed to Istanbul w here he served as an imam and, even ­
tually, a professor o f law. H e is the author o f one o f the m ost important works on Ottoman
law, the Multaqâ al-abhur, w hich b ecam e a textbook in Ottoman madrasas and w as used
by Ottoman ju d ges and m uftis alike.246 It w as treated alm ost like an unofficial codifica­
tion o f O ttom an law in m any areas.247 H is com m entary on Sadid al-D in Kashghari (d.
13 0 5 )’s M unyat al-musallï, entitled Ghunyat al-mutamalll f i sharh munyat al-musallï,
w hich treats o f the subjects o f ritual prayer and ritual purity, has been another m ajor text­

244 See n. 243 above; Marti, Birgivî Mehmed Efendi, 153-166; and M. Kalayci, ‘Zühd ve melâmet
farklilaijmasi baglaminda Hanefî gelenegin Kuijeyri’ye ilgisi’, in H. Alper (ed.), imam
Mâtürîdî ve Mâtürîdiyye Gelenegi: Tarih, Yôntem, Doktrin - Prof. Dr. Bekir Topaloglu Anisi­
na (Istanbul 2018), 305-37.
245 Terzioglu, ‘Bir terciime ve bir intihal vakasi’, 270-271.
246 Uzunçarçih, 22, 173; see also §. S. Has, ‘A Study of Ibrâhîm al-Halabï with Special Reference
to the Multaqâ’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Edinburgh, 1981; idem, ‘The
Use of Multaqa’l-Abhur in the Ottoman Madrasas and in Legal Scholarship’, OA 7-8 (1988),
393-418.
247 G. Burak, The Second Formation o f Islamic Law: The Hanafi School in the Early Modern Ot­
toman Empire (New York 2015), especially, 181, n. 32.
232 BA KI TEZCA N

book in Ottoman madrasas for centuries. His influence w ould even reach South Africa.
W hen in the nineteenth century, the Ottoman scholar A bu Bakr (d. 1880), w h o w as sent
there for South A frican M uslim s, published his Bayân al-dîn in vernacular Afrikaans
written in Arabic letters, he relied m ainly on the w ork o f al-H alabi.248 Even i f w e rule
out the references Kadizade m akes to Ibn Hajar, w h o w as the com m entator on the m ost
revered collection o f Prophetic hadith, the Sahîh al-Bukhân, and to al-Taftazani, w ho
w as one o f the m ost prolific authors o f the m edieval Islam ic w orld, as they do not seem
to have produced w orks w hich are as critical o f Ibn Arabi as the on es K adizade attributes
to them , his reference to al-H alabi is so lid and sufficient to legitim ise any critique o f Ibn
Arabi. M ore importantly, w hen w e look at the w orks o f al-H alabi, w e see h o w he wrote
on other subjects w hich the K adizadelis w ere go in g to take to the streets o f Istanbul in the
later seventeenth century, such as w hirling (as did m any other O ttom an scholars before
and after him ), and the parents o f the Prophet. On another o f their favourite topics, the
faith o f the Pharaoh, they could cite K em alpaçazade, a form er Ottoman Grand M ufti.249
Thus it is difficult to call the K adizadelis extrem ists in terms o f their ideas. T hey w ere
sim ply fo llo w in g the con clu sion s w hich som e legitim ate interpretations o f Islam ic law
and practice could reach and actually did reach w ithin the Hanafi sch ool in Ottoman
territories a century before them.
The novelty w hich the K adizadelis represent is their taking o f these debates, w hich
m ore often rem ained w ithin the covers o f b ooks or w ithin the confines o f learned sch o­
lars’ salons and royal courts, to large congregations and, eventually, the streets. Thus,
w h ile the ideas the K adizadelis propagated m ay best be analysed w ithin the fram ework
o f Islam ic intellectual history, their transformation o f intellectual debates to so cio -p o liti­
cal con flict w ould be better approached through the lens o f social history. In this regard,
K adizade’s letters provide support for Sariyannis’s quest in look in g for a n ew m ercantile
ethic w ithin the rise o f the K adizadelis. W hile the K adizadelis revisited cou n tless debates
w hich had taken p lace w ithin Islam ic intellectual history, as Sariyannis has p ointed out,
they did not re-open the cash vakif controversy, in w h ich their retrospective intellectual
founding father B irgivi had played a central role.250 K adizade lists B ir g iv fs w ork on cash

248 For an English translation of this work, see The Religious Duties o f Islam as Taught and Ex­
plained by Abu Bakr Effendi, ed. M. Brandel-Syrier (Leiden 1971).
249 See the sources cited in n. 148 and 44 above for al-Halabi’s and Kemalpaçazade’s relevant
works, respectively; the faith of the Pharaoh is actually an offshoot of the discussions related
to Ibn Arabi. For a general overview of this debate in English, see C. W. Ernst, ‘Controversies
over Ibn al-‘Arabfs Fusiis: The Faith of Pharaoh’, Islamic Culture, 109 (1985), 259-266; E.
Ormsby, ‘The Faith of Pharaoh: A Disputed Question in Islamic Theology’, Studia Islamica,
98/99 (2004), 5-28.
250 Sariyannis, ‘The Kadizadeli Movement’, 284. Derin Terzioglu kindly warned me that there
are a few treatises written against interest, such as the one quoted by Sariyannis through the
work of J. Schmidt, ‘Hamza Efendi’s Treatise on Buying and Selling of 1678’, Oriente Mod-
erno, 25 [86] (2006) [special issue: The Ottomans and Trade, eds E. Boyar and K. Fleet], 181-
186, and another one which she came across, rendering the conclusion that the Kadizadelis
were not necessarily against the endowments in cash somewhat premature at this point. What
 TH E PO R TR A IT OF TH E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 233

vakif in his long reading list. But the K adizadelis clearly did not find that issu e worth
fighting for as they included m any m erchants am ong their ranks w ho m ost probably
relied on the financial m echanism o f borrow ing the cash vakifs provided for in Ottoman
society.
There m ight be another (and perhaps c lo se ly related) reason for K adizadelis to ig­
nore the cash vakif controversy w hich has to do w ith K ad izad e’s N akçibendi affiliation.
Thanks to the w ork o f Le G all, w e k n ow h o w central the cash vakifs were for N akçibendi
institutions:

As it turns out, the waqfs supporting a number of NaqshbandT institutions ... were actually
packages, each consisting of small waqfs that were established over several decades by the
founding shaykh and his followers. Their assets were typically cash or modest pieces of rent­
able urban real estate. ... [WJhile the phenomenon of “cumulative waqfs” certainly had its ana­
logues in tekkes of other tariqas, the register [of Istanbul endowments] of 953/1546 mentions it
exclusively in a NaqshbandT connection; of several thousand waqfs appearing in the register, it
is only those assigned to EmTr-i Bukhârï Tekkes in Fatih and Edime Kapi that are lumped toget­
her under the specific designation evkâf ül-mürïdïn ve ’l-muhibbm (roughly “disciples’ waqfs”),
which is meant to indicate this kind of cumulative mode.251

It w ould not be far-fetched to assum e that the cash waqfs established to support N akçibendi
institutions w ould have financed craftsm en and sm all busin essm en w ho had to com pete
w ith their peers w h o enjoyed a conn ection w ith the Janissary corps and w ere thus able
to borrow from their ‘C om m on B ank’.252 It is also not d ifficult to im agine that those
w ho w ould borrow from the N akçibendi cash waqfs cou ld g row sym pathetic towards
the Nakçibendi order and eventually contribute to the social base o f the K adizadelis, one
o f w h ose targets in the seventeenth century w ere the Janissaries, w h o not on ly enjoyed
the financial resources o f their bank but also p rivileged p osition s in trade and guilds,
and thus m ade it difficult for others in the w orld o f sm all b usin ess to m ake a p lace for
them selves.253
A nother distinguishing feature o f the N aksibendis w as their ability to operate inde­
pendently o f convents - i f not their am bivalen ce towards them . Since they cou ld also
conduct their devotional rites w ithout paraphernalia, “w e m ight exp ect m ore o f them
to have been based in public m osques, esp ecia lly th ose in w h ich they m ight officiate as
preachers or prayer leaders” .254 W hile L e G all found this practice to be more prom inently

is of greater interest to me, however, is the silence of Kadizadeli leaders on this issue and the
fact that it has not found a place in the long list of debated questions in Naima’s work; Târih-i
Na'îmâ, ed. M. îpçirli, 4 vols (Ankara 2007), IV: 1705.
251 Le Gall, A Culture o f Sufism, 48, 50.
252 Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire, 205-206.
253 Terzioglu, ‘Sufi and dissident’, 244-245; on the guild connections of Janissaries, see E. Yi,
Guild Dynamics in Seventeenth-Century istanbul: Fluidity and Leverage (Leiden 2004), and
G. Yilmaz, ‘The Economic and Social Roles of Janissaries in a Seventeenth-Century Ottoman
City: The Case of Istanbul’, unpublished Ph.D. disserstation, McGill University, 2011.
254 Le Gall, A Culture o f Sufism, 47.
234 B A K IT E Z C A N

present in Bursa than Istanbul,255 the identification o f K adizade as a N aksibendi at a

m osque in Istanbul m ay alter this picture.
A s for the role the unorganised m asses p layed in the production o f the ten sion be­
tw een different form s o f organised faith, this has not yet been adequately theorised in
the context o f early m odern Ottoman Empire.256 O ne cou ld d efinitely note, however,
that their increasing interest in questions o f faith is quite ob vious w hen one look s at the
circulation o f som e o f the key texts referenced by K adizade. In his very w ell researched
M .A . thesis, A hm et K ayli identified 2 9 6 co p ies o f B irg iv î’s al-Tarïqa al-Muhammadiyya
and 164 cop ies o f his Vasiyyetnâme in the m anuscript libraries o f Istanbul.257 W hile the
cop ies o f the form er w ould have been read by madrasa students or graduates, as it is in
A rabic, the w ide circulation o f the latter, w hich B irgivî sp ecifically penned for a larger
audience, is evid en ce o f great interest am ong the com m oners. K ayli also m apped the cir­
culation o f these works over tim e by analysing those manuscripts w hich bear a co p y date.
It is rather striking to note that the popularity o f these works starts rising in the 1620s,
som e 50 years after the death o f B irgivî and coin cid in g w ith the shift o f K adizad e’s care­
er from a neighbourhood m osque to the royal m osqu es o f the imperial capital, at w hich
he started reaching larger audiences, and continues until 1785, lon g after the end o f the
K adizadeli m ovem ent, w hich is usually dated to 1685.258
T he fact that Kadizade p layed a key role in the w ider dissem ination o f B irg iv î’s works
is not only suggested by the dating o f the rising popularity o f his w orks, but also the w ay
in w hich one o f the earliest m entions o f “B irgivî fo llo w er s” appears in the historical re­
cord. A s Terzioglu has noted, several legal opinions in the fetva co llectio n o f the Grand
M ufti Esad “are concerned w ith the objections o f ‘B irgivî fo llo w e r s’ to the com m unal
perform ance o f supererogatory prayers on the nights o f R egaib and Kadir” .259 This hap­
pens to be the topic o f one o f the treatises by K adizade m entioned ab ove.260 Kadizade
not o n ly took B irg iv î’s works to larger audiences but also added his nam e to B irg iv î’s,
thanks to the w id e dissem ination o f his treatise on ritual prayer in m anuscripts, w hich
also include B irg iv î’s Vasiyyetnâme, starting from the late seventeenth century.261 Thus

255 Ibid., 48.

256 The works of Tijana Krstic and Derin Terzioglu that I will touch upon below certainly opened
an avenue of research in this area; see, for instance, A. Gürbüzel, ‘Teachers of the Public, Ad­
visors to the Sultan: Preachers and the Rise of a Political Public Sphere in Early Modem Is­
tanbul (1600-1670)’, Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 2016.
257 Kayli, ‘A critical study’, 163; compare Atsiz, Istanbul Kütüphanelerine, 5-11, 15-32.
258 Kayli, ‘A critical study’, 176-77, 190, and Table VI.
259 Terzioglu, ‘Sufi and dissident’, 200.
260 See n. 109 above; Kayli notes what is very likely a copy of this treatise in a manuscript which
also includes seven works by Birgivî, as well as two fatwas of Ebussuud, the latter of which
was copied most probably by Kadizade himself; see Kayli, ‘A critical study’, 191.
261 For some examples, see Bibliothèque Nationale, supplément turc [st hereafter] 476 and st 479;
and Beyazit Kütüphanesi, Veliyüddin Efendi [VE hereafter] 3638. These copies do not include
the last part of the treatise which contains Kadizade’s pen name; compare st 476, 38a-42b; st
479, 56b-62b; and VE 3638, 60b-64a, with EH 1739, 94b-101a,at99a-101a. VE 3638 has been
transcribed in its entirety by S. Tanboga in ‘Birgivi’nin ‘Vasiyetname’ adli eseri iizerine bir gra-
 TH E PO R TR A IT OF T H E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 235

Kadizade not only preached for the m asses, but also w rote for them in the lon g term. Yet,
he had m ultiple audiences. H is w orks in A rabic, including the letters studied here, clearly
suggest that he cared about im pressing his peers am ong the ‘ulema ’. A nother audience
he tried to im press w as p olitical authority.
The significance o f the identification o f K adizade M ehm ed o f B alikesir as the author
o f the three treatises d iscu ssed in the third section o f the present study lies in the reminder
that they provide regarding the im portance o f political authority in the realisation o f the
Kadizadeli agenda. K adizade had already tried to enter royal circles during the reigns
o f A hm ed 1 and Osm an II, as evidenced by his presentation o f the first version o f the
Nushü ’l-hükkâm to the Grand V izier M urad Pasha and his dedication o f the Kitab-i mak-
bul to Osm an II. Perhaps partially w ith the help o f the Grand M ufti Esad, w h o endorsed
the latter work, he actually su cceed ed in gaining the attention o f O sm an II, w h o took him
on the K hotin cam paign in 1621.262 H e w a s so w ell respected am ong the circles o f power
that in 1622, during the early hours o f the rebellion w hich en d ed w ith the deposition and
murder o f O sm an II, he and his form er H alveti sheikh O m er w ere chosen by the Grand
Vizier to calm dow n the sold iers.263
Kadizade and his posthum ous follow ers continued to build strong relations with the
Ottoman political authority in the seventeenth century, for, as K adizade rem inded M u­
rad IV, w hom he called “the renew er o f religion in the eleventh century [A H ]” , “people
follow the religion o f their kings (al-nâs ‘alâ dîn mulükihim)”. 2 6 4 Thus K adizade and his
follow ers aim ed to shape the particular form o f Islam that Ottom an M u slim s w ere to be
exposed to in the Ottom an public dom ain by reaching the Sultan or his Grand Vizier di­
rectly, w hich distingu ish es them sharply from their intellectual inspiration, B irgivî, w ho
chose and advised to stay aw ay from the representatives o f p olitical authority.265

mer, metin ve indeks çaliçmasi’, M.A. thesis, Nigde Oniversitesi, 2006, which also includes a
copy of the manuscript. For an analysis of such manuscripts which also include the treatise of
Ahmed-i Rumî (aka Akhisarî; d. 1632), see my ‘A Canon of Disenchantment: Birgivi, Rumi,
and Kadizade’, forthcoming in B. Tezcan, A Gift for the Turks: Studies on Islam and its Early
Modern Transformation in the Ottoman Empire (forthcoming). Ahmed-i Rumî and Kadizade
must have met each other during the former’s temporary stay in Istanbul in the early seven­
teenth century; see Kâtib Çelebi, Keçf-el-zunun, II, 1590n2.
262 Topçular Katibi, Abdülkadir Efendi tarihi, II, 720, 740.
263 Gôkyay, ‘II. Sultan Osman’m Çehadeti’, 206.
264 HP 629, 4a, 3a; it is impossible not to note the closeness of this expression to the Latin phrase
cuius regio, eius religio, or ‘whosever realm, his religion’, the well-known principle adopted
at the Peace of Augsburg in 1555.
265 While Kadizade wrote to Murad IV that one should memorise the Testament ( Vasiyyetnâme)
of Birgivî, the latter advised his readers in that very work not to approach Sultans, senior jus­
tices, or state administrators unless they had to - he even asked his sons not to become stu­
dents at a madrasa or seek a judicial appointment. He seems to have been categorically suspi­
cious about the possibility of justice under a ruler (or perhaps the ruler of his own time, Siil-
eyman the Magnificent), even though he advised his readers to pray for the justice of the rul­
er and never to rebel even if the ruler is an oppressor; see HP 629, 112a; Birgili Muhammed
236 B A K I TE ZC A N

W hile the v o ic es o f K adizade and his posthum ous follow ers w ere not the on ly repre­
sentative v o ices o f Islam w h ich Murad IV or the later Grand V izier Fazil A hm ed Pasha
(d. 1676) lent their ears to, I b elie v e that theirs w as the one that proved to have consider­
able im pact on the Ottoman public space in the long term. A s Terzioglu has argued, they
did this in alliance w ith the h ighest representatives o f Hanafi Islam , the Grand M uftis
w ho cam e to issue m uch m ore conservative legal opinions in matters pertaining to ‘inno­
vation s’ than their p redecessors in the sixteenth century. W hile the initial im petus m ight
have com e from such p eop le as K adizade and his follow ers, the conservative stance o f
the Grand M uftis continued at least into the early eighteenth century.266 A sim ilar lon g­
term im pact m ight be ob served in the m osques.
T he K adizad elis’ clo se relationship w ith political authority coup led w ith the pressure
their follow ers on the streets exerted on the Ottoman leadership seem s to have shaped
the public v o ice o f Islam w h ich the m osqu e-goers o f the imperial capital listened to
at the royal m osqu es o f Istanbul, such as Aya S ofya, w hich w as regarded as the m ost
prestigious pulpit in the capital. Gradually, the preachers associated w ith the Sufi orders
w hich the K adizadelis targeted w ere replaced w ith others w h o shunned the vocal dhikr
at Aya Sofya. W hile K adizade M ehm ed o f B alikesir w as m ost probably one o f the first
non-H alvetis to be appointed to preach there in the seventeenth century, in the alm ost
hundred years that fo llo w ed the appointm ent o f his student  m â M ehm ed (d. 1672) to
the sam e post, there seem s to have been only one appointee w h o en gaged in vocal dhikr
there.267 This long-term d evelopm en t m ay not sim p ly b e explained by the K adizadelis,

Efendi, Vasiyyet-name: Dil incelemesi, metin, sozliik, ekler indeksi ve tipkibasim, ed. M. Du-
man (Istanbul 2000), 106, 117, 119, 120, 126.
266 Terzioglu, ‘Sufi and dissident’, 231-233.
267 Miistakimzade (d. 1788), Terciime-i ahval-i $uyuh-i Aya Sofya [descriptive online catalogue
title], Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Esad Efendi 1716, 10b-16a. This short treatise is a biblio­
graphical dictionary of 11 preachers who were appointed to Aya Sofya between 1000/1591
and the time of the treatise’s composition, and were regarded as “erbab-i zikr-i cehr ve tevhid”.
Since neither Kadizade nor his student Âmâ Mehmed would have engaged in vocal dhikr, the­
ir biographies are not included; for the latter, see Çeyhî, 1:568. Kadizade’s predecessors men­
tioned by Miistakimzade are four Halvetis: Hamid! Yoluk Mehmed (d. H.1009/1600-1), Ke-
mali Al! (d. H.1012/1603), Tercüman Çeyhî Orner Fan! (d. H.1033/1623-4), and Büyük Ka­
dizade Mehmed (d. H. 1041/1631-2). Osman II’s tutor Ômer had been a preacher there before
he became the tutor of Ahmed I’s sons, as well; see Atayî, 728. Müstakimzade’s omission of
him may be interpreted as an indication of his not being a Halveti. Between H.1080/1669-70,
when Erdebilizade Ahmed, the ninth preacher included in the treatise and also a Halveti, died,
and H.l 180/1766-7, when Abdüççekûr, the last preacher mentioned in the treatise, was appo­
inted, the only preacher listed by Miistakimzade is Biilbiilciizade Abdülkerim (d. 1694), a Hal­
veti who had a madrasa education as well as some teaching experience. It is worth noting that
Müstakimzade’s Aya Sofya preachers who practised vocal dhikr include a Nakçibendi from
Bosnia, Osman (d. 1664) - clearly, not all Nakçibendis, even in the seventeenth century, had
given up on vocal dhikr. At first, this portrait seems to contradict Zilfi’s data about the impact
of the Kadizadelis on the preaching positions at the imperial mosques. Looking at the period
between 1621 and 1685, she found that out of the 48 appointments (representing 28 individu­
al appointees) made to “the five most prestigious mosques in the city”, 19 were Halvetis and
 TH E PO R TR A IT OF TH E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 237

as their last influential leader, Vanî M ehm ed (d. 1685), w as banished from Istanbul in the
aftermath o f the failed sieg e o f Vienna in 1683. Yet their agenda, w hich cou ld be regarded
as a socio-p olitical engineering project o f sorts aim ing at lim itin g public expression s o f
religious diversity, seem s to have sustained its appeal, as is also evid en ced b y the con ­
tinuing popularity o f B irgivFs works and the conservative legal opinions o f som e early
eighteenth-century Grand M uftis in matters relating to ‘in n ovation s’.
O ne should also add that the K adizadelis w ere d efinitely not the first Ottom ans to
aspire to lim it M uslim religious diversity. A s pointed out in several studies, many, i f not
m ost of, early Ottom an m osques w ere ritual sp aces w here both Sunni ritual prayer and
Sufi rituals took place and w here itinerant dervishes and other travellers stayed and were
fed. T hey w ere m ostly identified as imaret (or zaviye) on their original building inscrip­
tions - incidentally, the M osque o f Murad Pasha, w here K adizade launched his career
and preached for m ore than a decade, w as originally built in this style and had been
endow ed by Murad Pasha, the nephew o f the last B yzantine Emperor, C onstantine XI Pa-
laiologos.268 In the early sixteenth century, w h ile this architectural type, w h ich w a s bom
in a social environm ent that w as in clu sive o f diversity, started disappearing, and m osques
cam e to be exclu siv e ly devoted to Sunni ritual prayer, one cou ld still w itn ess a Sufi ritual
in m osques at tim es, for instance, as narrated in an an ecdote about the H alveti sheikh
Sünbül Sinan (d. 1529), w h o w ould g iv e Friday serm ons at the M osqu e o f M eh m ed II or
Aya S ofya and then continue w ith a dhikr ritual, including w hirlin g,269 w h ich produced
a w ave o f debates on the perm issibility o f w hirling. W hile Ottom an dervishes continued
to whirl in the sixteenth century in their conven ts, on e cou ld not see them in the imperial
m osques any m ore after these debates.
In short, the lim itation o f public exp ression s o f M u slim religious diversity has a
long history in the Ottom an Empire w hich predates the K adizadelis. T erzioglu calls this

four Celvetis (or 12 and three individuals, respectively), which account for almost half of the
appointments (or slightly more than half of the individual appointees); The Politics o f Piety,
165, 180-8 Inn 130-31; see also 255-56. If one were to look at the appointments to Aya Sofya
during the same period, one finds an even heavier representation of preachers who practised
vocal dhikr - seven of the 11 preachers included in Mtistakimzade’s list served in this period,
and the other three appointees in this period were Kadizade Mehmed of Balikesir, his student
Âmâ Mehmed, and ispiri Ali (d. 1692); for the latter, see Uççakizade, 687-88. Thus the see­
ming purge of the practitioners of vocal dhikr from Aya Sofya appears to have followed the
end of the Kadizadeli movement rather than having accompanied it; hence, the discrepancy
between Zilfi’s data and the portrait created by Mtistakimzade’s list.
268 T. Acar, ‘Anadolu Ttirk mimarisinde tabhaneli camiler’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Ege
Oniversitesi, 2011, 463-467; H. W. Lowry, The Nature o f the Early Ottoman State (Albany
2003), 115-116; D. Terzioglu, ‘Sufis in the Age of State-Building and Confessionalization’, in
The Ottoman World, ed. Christine Woodhead (Oxon 2012), 86-99, at 89. The first couple of
imperial mosques where he later preached, that of Bayezid II and Selim I, the latter of which
was built by Siileyman the Magnificent for his father, were the last examples of this type of
mosque to be endowed by Ottoman Sultans; G. Necipoglu, The Age of Sinan: Architectural
Culture in the Ottoman Empire (London 2005), 92-95.
269 Vassaf, Sefme-i Evliya, 111:369, 372.
238 B A K IT E Z C A N

process “Sunnitization”, and Krstic refers to it as “con fessionalization ” .270 There is no

doubt that both concepts are very helpful in understanding several socio-religiou s de­
velopm ents in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. H ow ever, w h ile both Krstic and
Terzioglu account for m ultiple factors at play, I b elie v e the terms ‘Sunnitization’ and
‘confessionalization ’ end up underlining the increasing em phasis the Ottoman political
leadership placed on its identification w ith Sunni Islam in response to the identification
o f the Safavids w ith Shiite Islam. The sign ifican ce o f this Sunni em phasis is b eyond do­
ubt, especially w hen it co m es to the treatment o f the kmlba§ com m unities by the political
authority. M oreover, as su ggested by the w ork o f M uham m ed §en , the em phasis placed
on the Sunni identity o f the E m pire’s M u slim s by the Ottoman authorities seem s to have
found its counterpart in the production o f foundational texts that sought to define the
b eliefs and practices o f kizilba§ com m un ities.271 Yet there is nothing in Sunni Islam that
is inherently opposed to diversity. A tradition w h ich produced at least four legal schools
the follow ers o f w h ich regarded every other one as equally orthodox did not have to be
interpreted as a licen ce to lim it religious diversity. M ore importantly, the seventeenth-
century socio-relig io u s conflict b etw een the K adizad elis and S ivasis took place between
tw o groups the m em bers o f both o f w hich w ou ld never question their allegian ce to the
Hanafi interpretation o f Sunni Islam or see th em selv es as b elon gin g to a different con ­
fession from Sunni Islam. T hey w ere, rather, en gaged in a struggle to define what Sunni
Islam w as. Sim ilarly, the early texts produced by the com m unities w h ich cam e to be
called kizilba-) su g g est that they did not se e th em selv es as anything other than Sunni.272
That is w hy, I b elieve, w e n eed a slightly different conceptual approach w h ich w ould
help us interpret this conflict w ithout h aving to m ake an inadvertently norm ative call on
the definition o f Sunni Islam by confirm ing the Ottom an authorities’ claim to it.
I propose to look at the K adizadelis as agents o f a populist reformation in Sunni Islam
that ultim ately disenchanted it by denying the p ossib ility o f reaching the realm o f the
divine in this w orld and argue that they should be contextualised w ithin the socio-p oliti­
cal transformation w hich produced what I have called the Second Ottoman Empire. M y

270 T. Krstic, Contested Conversions to Islam: Narratives o f Religious Change in the Early Mod­
ern Ottoman Empire (Stanford 2011); see also Krstic’s ‘From Shahada to ‘Aqïda: Conversion
to Islam, Catechization, and Sunnitization in Sixteenth-Century Ottoman Rumeli’, in Islami­
sation: Comparative Perspectives from History, ed. A. C. S. Peacock (Edinburgh 2017), 296-
314; D. Terzioglu, ‘How to Conceptualize Ottoman Sunnitization: A Historiographical Dis­
cussion’, Turcica, 44 (2012-13), 301-338; Terzioglu, ‘Sufis in the Age of State-Building and
Confessionalization’.
271 M. S. §en, ‘From Confessional Ambiguity to Confessional Crystallization: Identity Formati­
ons in the Early Modem Ottoman Empire 1550-1700’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Uni­
versity of California, Davis, 2018.
272 R. Yildinm, ‘In the Name of Hosayn’s Blood: The Memory of Karbala as Ideological Stimu­
lus to the Safavid Revolution’, Journal o f Persianate Studies, 8 (2015), 127-154, at 135; see
also Yildinm’s ‘Sunni Orthodoxy vs Shi'ite Heterodoxy?: A Reappraisal of Islamic Piety in
Medieval Anatolia’, in Islam and Christianity in Medieval Anatolia, eds A. C. S. Peacock, B.
De Nicola, and S. N. Yildiz (Burlington 2015), 287-307.
 TH E PO R TR A IT O F TH E PR EA C H ER AS A Y O U N G M AN 239

proposal is very m uch inspired by the late Shahab A h m ed ’s work,273 although I treat som e
o f his concepts differently. A hm ed builds his analysis o f Islam, am ong other things, on the
concept o f a social hierarchy o f truth w hich operated in the geographical region betw een
the Balkans and B engal in 1350-1850 and allow ed the educated elite to explore the m ysti­
cal and philosophical dim ensions o f Islam in the private sphere, w h ile a m ore legalistic
understanding o f Islam, w hich w as often at odds w ith m ystical and philosophical interp­
retations, operated in the public sphere for the m asses. A hm ed sees European modernity,
w ith its foundational m yth o f human equality and the accom panying social egalitarianism
o f a sim ple truth for all, as the phenom enon w hich rendered p ossib le a hierarchical ep is­
tem ology w hich offered alternative paths to truth to different social groups, untenable.
W hile I am very m uch inspired by A h m ed ’s concept o f a social hierarchy o f truth and
his identification o f m odernity as the cause o f the destruction o f this hierarchy, w h ich led
to the h egem ony o f a legal understanding o f Islam, I argue that m odernity w as not thrust
upon M uslim s by the sheer force o f European colonialism but rather produced by them —
more or less sim ultaneously w ith European Christians— as a result o f upward social m o­
bility and the political transformation this m obility brought about by expanding the ruling
class in the early modern era. The copyright on the social egalitarianism o f a sim p le truth
for all does not b elon g to a particularly European modernity, but is shared by diverse so­
cio-political projects w orld -w ide in different periods o f history. T he K adizadelis represent
a particular iteration o f such a project w hich cam e to attract relatively large m asses, who
found that the social egalitarianism o f a sim ple truth for all resonated with them in the
increasingly socio-econ o m ica lly stratified urban com m unities they w ere living in.
I also propose h istoricisin g A h m ed ’s con cept o f a social hierarchy o f truth by d e­
monstrating h ow it had been built in parallel w ith the production o f a social differentiati­
on betw een the ruling class and the m asses in the m edieval period. The phrase ‘populist
reform ation’ refers to the purported destruction o f this social hierarchy o f truth b y M us­
lim reformers in the early m od em period. U sin g the term ‘reform ation’ allo w s o n e to take
cognisance o f certain parallels with the Christian R eform ation, such as a se lec tiv e purge
o f certain m edieval practices from the public exp erience o f Islam in the nam e o f a pro­
fessed restoration o f Islam as described in som e o f its early sources deem ed to represent
its original form. A s for the adjective ‘pop u list’, it connects the w a y in w hich K adizadelis
w ould have liked to define Sunni Islam, w hich em phasised its m ore egalitarian-looking
legalistic ep istem ology, w ith the p olitical u ses that their project lent itse lf to, that is,
utilising a seem in gly egalitarian Sunni Islam as a co llec tiv e identity w hich co u ld tran­
scend political class boundaries, w hich w ere no longer as blatantly unsurm ountable as
they used to be in m edieval tim es, w hen m em bership o f the ruling class w as ex c lu siv e ly
granted to conquerors, their offspring, and/or their slaves.

273 Sh. Ahmed, What is Islam? The Importance o f Being Islamic (Princeton 2016). I must ac­
knowledge once again my debt to my colleague Derin Terzioglu, who encouraged me to read
Ahmed’s work, which had been sitting on my desk -untouched- for months while I worked
on the first draft of this study.
240 B A K l TE ZC A N

A s I argued elsew h ere, the S econ d Ottoman Em pire w itn essed a great deal o f upward
m obility and the translation o f so cio -eco n o m ic capital into political status for certain
segm ents o f the M uslim population in the Ottoman Em pire, thus breaking the m onop oly
o f the devshirme in the adm inistrative ruling class. T his w as a n ovel picture w hich cont­
rasts w ith the m ed ieval history o f central Islam ic lands that w as often marked by either
an ethnic (or tribe-based) differentiation betw een the rulers and the ruled, w hich was
som etim es also supplem ented by the slave origin o f the ruling class, as w as the case in
the First O ttom an Em pire.274
H ow ever, this O ttom an early m odernity, w hich w as marked by upward m obility and
the expansion o f the political nation, also produced social tensions, as not every M uslim
could be as fortunate as his financially astute fellow -believer. Sunni Islam w as to serve
a n ew function in this n ew dispensation: w ith its re-calibrated egalitarian m essage, it
becam e the perfect glu e for a co llec tiv e identity w h ich cou ld m ediate social tensions on
a m assive scale. It w as in this environm ent that K adizade M ehm ed carried the v o ice o f
B irgivî from the m anuscripts o f his works to the im perial m osques o f Istanbul, w here it
reached thousands o f M u slim s w h o found solace in a seem in gly egalitarian faith in w hich
everyone had the sam e chance to ach ieve salvation, and the attainment o f the real Islam ic
truth w as not the p rivilege o f a select few as w as the ca se in m any a Sufi order. W hat one
n eeded to ach ieve salvation w as to live according to the exam ple o f the Prophet - and not
to seek the interm ediacy o f this or that saint, w hich w as nothing but superstition com pa­
red to the rationality o f the K ad izad elis’ version o f Sunni Islam , w h ich brought a virtual
equality to an increasingly m ore stratified urban society.
It is not that the S ivasis w ere not Sunni. N o t unlike m any Sufi orders, how ever, as
m em bers o f the H alved order, they w ere hierarchical, not only in their organisational
structure, w hich w as based on a sheikh pick in g som e o f his d isciples over others in ap­
pointing his successors, but, m ore importantly, in their ep istem ological com m itm ent to
the idea o f p rivileged a ccess to divine interm ediacy, as in m iracles o f saints. The very
idea o f a saint, esp ecia lly on e like Ibn Arabi, w h o describes his w orks as products o f
divine inspiration,275 could p o se a serious threat to any assum ption o f egalitarianism in
accessin g divine truth. The realm o f the divine w h ich w as accessib le to m edieval saints
w h o enchanted the w orld w ith their m iracles had to b e rendered in accessib le in this world
for this w orld to b ecom e a fair testing-ground for the rewards o f the hereafter; hen ce, the
gradual early m od em disenchantm ent o f Sunni Islam .276

274 For my definitions of the First and Second Empires, see Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire,
89-100, 191-198.
275 Ibn ‘Arabï, Sufis o f Andalusia: the ‘Rüh al-quds ’ and 'al-Durrah al-fâkhirah ’ o f Ibn ‘Arabi,
trans. R. W. J. Austin (Berkeley 1972), 48.
276 It was Marinos Sariyannis who first suggested discussing the “disenchantment of the world”
in the early modem Ottoman context through the writings of non-Sufi authors and brought up
the Kadizadelis in this context; see his ‘Of Ottoman Ghosts, Vampires and Sorcerers: An Old
Discussion Disinterred’, Archivum Ottomanicum, 30 (2013), 191-217, at 215-16. The Nak?i-
bendi identity of Kadizade suggests that the line that divides the disenchanters from those who
persisted living in an enchanted world, like Niyâzî-i Misrî (d. 1694), was not necessarily Su-
 T H E PO R TR A IT OF TH E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 241

A s pointed out earlier, K adizade w as not against Sufism as such. A s lon g as they
facilitated the disciplin e o f the s e lf and o n e ’s d evotion to the d ivine, Sufi practices were
helpful- But the idea that there could be a different level o f truth accessib le on ly to som e
select few w h o w ere not at liberty to share their secrets w ith the com m oners w as not so ­
m ething he w as w illin g to con cede. Thus he advocated an interpretation o f Sunni Islam
that w as based on ep istem ological egalitarianism in a disenchanted world. I b eliev e his
m essage w as w ell received because it struck a strong cord in a so ciety w hich w a s exp e­
riencing a great deal o f social m obility w ith som e significant political repercussions. In
short, I argue that the K adizadeli - S ivasi conflict becam e so w idespread and prolonged
because K adizade and his follow ers v o ic ed the m essage o f an egalitarian ep istem o lo g y
in accessin g divine truth at a tim e w hen class d ivision s w ere sharpening am ong Otto­
man M uslim s, a select few o f w h om w ere entering the adm inistrative-m ilitary ruling
class w hich used to be reserved for the devçirme in the past. Unsurprisingly, the Halveti
brotherhood not only represented an elitist ep istem ology according to w hich som e were
selected over others in com in g closer to the d ivine, but, esp ecially in Istanbul, its centres
w ere sym bols o f the devçirme political pow er o f the past, such as the H alveti lo d g e in Ka-
dirga,’w hich had been en d ow ed by the Grand V izier Sokollu M ehm ed Pasha (d. 1579).
O f course, this is not to say that the H alvetis w ere all m em bers o f the elite. On the
contrary, as an urban brotherhood, they had a diverse m em bership. That is w h y it w ould
be w rong to assum e that the K adizadeli - S ivasi conflict reflects a so c io -eco n o m ic class
conflict w ith clearly defined parties belon gin g to m utually ex c lu siv e hierarchical classes.
Rather, it reflects a social struggle b etw een tw o alternative w ays o f transcending so c io ­
econom ic class d ivision s in urban settings. W hile the H alvetis represent the vertical so­
cial alliances created in m edieval and m ore com partm entalised and guild -b ased urban
settings, on e cou ld think o f the K adizadelis as their early m od em com petitors w h o aim ed
to build a larger co llectiv e, transcending the m edieval corporate urban structures under
the leadership o f a n ew m ercantile elite w h o w ere com peting w ith the established mer­
chants, as su ggested by Sariyannis’s work.

* * *

1 w ould like to clo se w ith an anecdote w hich illustrates K adizade’s stance and perhaps
explains w h y he transform ed h im self from a H alveti w h o w as on his w ay to su cceed to
his sheikh to a fierce critic o f the H alvetis, as w ell as o f other groups and practices w hich
w ere still d eem ed perm issible w ithin the Ottoman public space.
K adizade dates his encounter w ith the four b ooks w hich w ere heavily critical o f Ibn
Arabi to 1 0 1 4 /1 6 0 5 -6 , that is, to the tim e o f his break from Orner, his H alveti sheikh,
w ho, after his return from the Habsburg cam paign in 1604, had invited K adizade to his
ow n neighbourhood, settled him in a h ouse en d ow ed for scholars, and m ade him his
su ccessor for the preaching p ost at the M osqu e o f the Terctiman H alveti con ven t, w hich,

fism as such but perhaps the different meanings assigned to it. On Niyazî-i Misrî and his enc­
hanted world, see D. Terzioglu, ‘Man in the Image of God in the Image of the Times: Sufi Self-
Narratives and the Diary of Niyâzî-i Misrî (1618-94)’, Studio Islamica, 94 (2002), 139-165.
242 B A K IT E Z C A N

incidentally, had also been founded by a Christian-born M uslim . Kadizade states in his
letter that he preached and com m ented upon the Q ur’an there for a year, after w h ich a
disagreem ent arose b etw een him and his sheikh that led to his break from Omer and his
return to his form er neighbourhood. Therefore, his break w ith his sheikh m ust have taken
place in late 1605, around the tim e o f his encounter w ith the Hanafi critique o f Ibn Arabi
by al-Bukhari and al-H alabi. Thus it is safe to assum e that K adizade’s disagreem ent with
Omer w as som eh ow related to Ibn Arabi. The question is what m ight have happened to
lead to this disagreem ent. Thanks to an anecdote narrated by A tayi in vo lv in g Omer, it is
p ossible to add one m ore important detail to the larger con text o f this disagreem ent about
Ibn Arabi in Ô m er’s neighbourhood around 1605.
O ne o f the key p ersonalities representing the d iversity o f Islam ic practices in the early
seventeenth-century O ttom an Em pire happened to live in Ô m er’s neighbourhood: H aci
A li B e y (d. 1615), w h o w as better know n to his follow ers as idris-i M uhtefi (the hidden
Idris), the contem porary leader o f the M elâm i-B ayram is. Since it is im p ossible to treat
this enigm atic leader and h is fo llo w ers in the w a y they deserve in this study, let m e just
state that the M elâm i branch o f the Bayram is w as one o f th ose religious groups w hich the
Ottoman state and its jurists had very little tolerance for in the sixteenth-century Ottoman
public space: m any o f their leaders w ere either interrogated, im prisoned, or execu ted .277
Thus it is no w onder that H aci A li B e y ch ose to be know n sim ply as an upright merchant
to his non-M elâm i acquaintances, including h is neighbor Omer. W hile Idris w as livin g
right in his neighbourhood, Om er and his fello w -H a lv eti S ivasî w ere d enouncing him
from their pulpits as a heretic, asking the m onarch to issu e an order for his arrest and
punishm ent. Even though such an order w as issued, A tayi tells us, no on e cou ld find any
clues as to his whereabouts.
A ccord ing to A tayi, Om er invited A li to his hom e on e day and asked for h is advice
about the great disorder brought about by îdris, w h o w a s leading thousands o f M u slim s
astray. A li asked Om er w hether h e had ever m et this m an or had any ev id en ce (ilm-i çer ‘Î)
proving his suspicion s about him . U pon hearing his n egative answer, A li asked him w hy
he w as slandering a M u slim w ithou t any evidence. W hen Omer regretted his words and
hastened to ask for G o d ’s forgiven ess, A li introduced h im se lf to him w ith his nicknam e,
asserting that he w as the man they called Idris, and asked him w hat he thought o f him.
Om er stated that he h eld him to b e in the rank o f his teacher (pîrim, azîzim), a man w ho
is “a firm pillar and a high m ountain in righteousness and p iety” . “N o w , k n ow m e thus!”
said A li Idris and en d ed the conversation.278

277 Abdülbâki [Gôlpinarli], Melâmîlik ve Melâmîler (Istanbul 1931); P. Ballanfat, Unité et

spiritualité: le courant Melâmî-Hamzevî dans l ’Empire ottoman (Paris 2013); N. Clayer, A.
Popovic, and T. Zarcone eds, Melâmis-Bayrâmis: études sur trois mouvements mystiques mu­
sulmans (Istanbul 1998); V. Rowe Holbrook, Tbn ‘Arabi and Ottoman Dervish Traditions:
The Melâmî Supra-Order’ [in two parts], Journal o f the Muhyiddin Ibn ‘Arabi Society, 9
(1991), 18-35, 12 (1992), 15-33; L E. Erünsal, ed.,XV-XVI. asir Bayrâmî-Melâmîligi’nin kay-
naklarindan Abdurrahman Elaskerî’nin Mir 'âtü’l-içk’i (Ankara 2003); A. Tek, ed., Melâmet
risâleleri: Bayrâmî Melâmiligi ’ne dâir (Bursa 2007).
278 Atayî, 602-03.
 T H E PO R T R A IT OF TH E PR E A C H E R A S A Y O U N G M AN 243

Since A tayî reputedly had M elâm i sym pathies and d efinitely had a ccess to reliable
sources on M elâm is, w hom he represents in his biographical dictionary in m ultiple en ­
tries, at tim es by go in g b eyon d his ch ronological coverage,279 this anectode m ust have
reached him by w ay o f a follow er o f A li Idris. Thus it m ight include som e em b ellish ­
m ents to represent the M elâm i leader in the best p o ssib le light, but there is no reason to
discredit its basics, that is, the neighbourly relations b etw een A li Idris and Ômer, as w ell
as Ô m er’s change o f heart w ith respect to his thoughts on the leader o f the M elâm is.
A ta y î’s narration includes a reference to others present during this conversation.280 So, if
the encounter that produced this anecdote had taken place in 160 5 -0 6 , Kadxzade m ight
w ell have w itn essed it. E ven i f he w ere not present, Ôm er w ou ld definitely have shared
w hat he learnt about his neighbour w ith K adizade, w hom he w as already considering as
his successor - unless the encounter took p lace after 1605.
W hile w e m ay never k now the exact date o f Ô m er’s encounter w ith A li Idris and
thus not be certain about whether he told K adizade that the w anted leader o f the M elâm i-
Bayram is w as livin g right in his neighbourhood, this anecdote is nevertheless an im ­
portant rem inder o f the con text w ithin w h ich the p o ssib le sign ifican ce o f Ibn Arabi for
K adizade’s intellectual w orld could be understood. Around 1605, w hen K adizade read
the Hanafi critique o f Ibn Arabi and broke aw ay from his sheikh, the existen ce o f M elâm i
sym pathisers in other H alveti circles o f the capital, such as Abdtilkerim o f Stip (d.
1 0 1 5 /1 606-07), the sheikh o f the H alveti con ven t en d ow ed by the late Grand V izier So-
kollu M ehm ed Pasha in Kadirga, w as w ell k now n.281 A s a p rospective H alveti sheikh,
K adizade w ould definitely have know n about the M elâm is and their sym pathisers am ong
other Sufi circles, as the M elâm is seem to have entered a process o f expansion am ong the
Ottoman elite exactly around the early seventeenth century.282 Ibn Arabi w as certainly a
major source o f inspiration for m any Sufis; but his w ritings had a special p la ce am ong
the M elâm is. A s G olpm arli noted, w h ile Ibn A rab i’s con cept o f the unity o f ex isten ce was
a ‘secret’ w hich w as op ened up only gradually and cautiously to dervishes in other Sufi
orders, M elâm is w ere not sh y o f declaring and m anifestin g their loyalty to Ibn Arabi and
the unity o f existence, w h ich constituted the b egin ning o f the M elâm i path rather than
its end.283
I b elieve it w as in this context that K adizade started reading the critiques o f Ibn
Arabi, and eventually broke w ith his sheikh. H e probably ch o se not to target the M elâm is
directly in his serm ons as they had discreetly m anaged to add p olitically very powerful
follow ers to their ranks from the circles o f the ulem a, high ranking imperial administra­
tors, as w ell as courtiers, including the Grand M ufti Ebulm eyâm in M ustafa (d. 1606), the

279 See, for instance, the biography of Oglan Çeyh, who died many years before Taçkôprüzade
Ahmed, the first entry in Atayî’s biographical dictionary; ibid., 8-11, 89.
280 For the reference to the presence of others, see “cümlesi hayirla cevab virüb”, Atayî, 603.
281 Atayî, 597; Cemaleddin Mahmut Hulvî, Lemezât-i Hulviyye ez lemezât-i ulviyye: yilce velile-
rin tatli halleri (Istanbul 1993), 601, 602.
282 TDV1A s.v. ‘Melâmiyye’ (DiA).
283 Abülbakî [Golpmarli], Melâmîlik ve Melâmîler (Istanbul 1931), 170.
244 B A K IT E Z C A N

Grand V izier Halil Pasha (d. 1629), and Murad IV ’s boon com panion Tiflî (d. 1660).284
Perhaps it w as one o f these pow erful allies o f the M elâm is w h o com plained to the Grand
M ufti about K adizade’s attitude towards Ibn Arabi and secured a legal opinion repriman­
ding preachers w ho cursed Ibn Arabi. It is p o ssib le that K adizade did not learn his lesson
the first tim e and continued his criticism . B ut after the secon d letter, in w hich Kadizade
claim s to have m ade his peace w ith Ibn Arabi, he probably stopped talking about him
publicly, at least for a w hile.
Instead o f targeting a group that had very p ow erful political allies directly, Kadizade,
perhaps under the guidance o f the late B irg iv î’s favourite son, Fazlullah, w h o arrived in
Istanbul in 1020/1611-2 and preached at the m osqu es o f Selim I and B ayezid II, to be
succeeded by K adizade in both appointm ents,285 ch o se to focu s his attention on d isciplin ­
ing the faith o f the m asses so that they w ould not be drawn to the lik es o f the M elâm is.
In an age w hen there w ere so m any different Islam ic paths to take and orders to follow ,
K adizade preached on the ex isten ce o f on ly one that led to salvation, the path (or order in
the sense o f a Sufi order) o f M uhamm ad, B irg iv î’s al-Tarïqa al-Muhammadiyya. Since
the particular version o f Islam K adizade and his fo llo w ers w ere preaching cam e w ith a
strong sense o f social d iscipline as w ell as ob ed ien ce to the p olitical authority, and did not
touch upon the status quo on so c io -e co n o m ica lly substantive issu es, such as that o f the
cash vakif, K adizade’s agenda proved to dovetail w ith the interests o f the political author­
ity as w ell; hence, the considerable support and patronage he and his follow ers received
from Murad IV and Fazil A hm ed Pasha.
But m ost importantly, K ad izad e’s version o f Sunni Islam represented nothing else
beyond the Q ur’an and the exam p le o f the Prophet, the scriptural sources o f the law,
w hich one needed to master in order to co m e closer to the divine. O ne did not have to
be chosen to partake o f divine truth. O ne did not need to have otherw orldly inspirational
experiences. The truth w as out there for everyon e to discover. A ll on e need ed w as to
seek k now ledge by learning from the scriptural sources. Perhaps this is w hat inspired
K adizade to adopt Îlmî as his pen nam e - ilm m eans, primarily, k n ow led ge and learning.
W hile the K adizadelis seem ed to disappear from the public space after the Ottoman
defeat at V ienna (1 6 8 3 ), I think that a significant part o f their heritage survived in the
M iiceddidi branch o f the N aksibendi order w h ich reached Istanbul from India through
a Bukharan sheikh in 1681.286 I f w e w ere to adopt A h m ed ’s term inology, the M ticed-

284 While the identity of these powerful Melâmi sympathisers may not have been manifest pub­
licly, the fact that they had powerful allies in different circles would have been known. The
number of Melâmis or their sympathisers among the elite was to grow in the first half of the
seventeenth century, especially if one were to interpret Paul Rycaut (d. 1700)’s reference to
müsirrîn (those who keep a secret) as a keyword for Melâmis; P. Rycaut, The Present State of
the Ottoman Empire, (London 1670 [3rd ed.]), 129. While Rycaut interprets this group as athe­
ists, Lady Montagu, who was in the Ottoman Empire about half a century later, states that they
were deists; M. Wortley Montagu, Letters o f Lady Mary Wortley Montague (Paris 1800), 84.
285 Atayî, 675.
286 Two years before Vanî Mehmed, the last Kadizadeli leader, was exiled from the Ottoman capi­
tal, Murad Buhari (d. 1720) arrived in Istanbul as the first major representative of this branch,
 TH E PO R TR A IT OF TH E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 245

didis had struck the perfect balance betw een the Text, representing the scripture, and
the Pre-Text, w hich sign ifies all the m ystical and philosophical literature in the Islam ic
tradition, by asserting that what the Pre-Text did w as sim ply to confirm the Text. Sufi
orders that practised w hirling and v ocal dhikr, w hich had been targeted by the Kadiza-
delis, w ere gradually m arginalised, w h ile the M üceddidi branch o f the N aksibendi order,
w hich shunned both o f these practices and em phasised Islam ic law as the path that leads
to truth, expanded its influence all over the Empire. The M üceddidi-N akçibendis and
their nineteenth-century successors, the K halidis ( Halidi), w ere d istinguished by their
political activism and their loyalty to the Sultan, for w hich they w ere rewarded w ith the
convents o f the Bektaçis after the latter order w as banned in the aftermath o f the abolition
o f the Janissary corps in 1826 because o f their c lo se ties to them.
In summary, I su ggest that the early m od em expansion o f the political nation to in­
clude M uslim -born subjects o f the Ottoman Em pire in the im perial adm inistrative hier­
archy w as pregnant w ith social tensions w hich cam e to be m ediated by the ep istem o lo g i­
cally egalitarian discourse o f the K adizadelis, w h o advocated a populist reform ation in
Islam. W hile they w ere not able to realise all o f their goals, they did prepare the ground
for the gradual m arginalisation o f m ost Sufi orders at the exp en se of, first, M üceddidi,
and later, H alidi N akçibendis, w h o expanded their networks in the eighteenth and nine­
teenth centuries, respectively. Thus m odernity in the Ottom an w orld cam e to be marked
by N akçibendi branches w hich distinguished th em selves by a sober attitude tow ards so ­
cial experiences o f religion, upheld the law as the ultimate truth, and thus m anaged to
project a m uch m ore egalitarian discourse than other orders in term s o f their ep istem ol­
ogy. From w ithin this p erspective, the K adizadelis m ay be regarded as the harbingers o f
political m odernity in the Islam ic w orld, a m odernity that w a s brought about b y the so ­
cio-eco n om ic d evelopm en ts w hich carried the O ttom an ecnebis into the adm inistrative-
m ilitary ruling class, eventu ally replacing the devprmes altogether, and thus creating a
majority M uslim society the rulers o f w hich w ere m uch less d istinguished from the ruled
and, therefore, all the m ore in need o f ju stifyin g w h y they w ere the on es in charge.287

Appendix
In providing this edition o f K adizade M eh m ed ’s first letter to the Grand M ufti M ehm ed
(c. 1610), I have kept m y interventions in the tex t to a m inim um , only u sin g quotation
marks to indicate Q ur’anic references and reported conversations, introducing parag­

which had started in India with Ahmad Sirhindi, who came to be regarded by his followers
as the renewer of the second millenium in Islam. Buhari was hosted by Damadzade Ahmed,
the man thanks to whom Kadizade Mehmed’s autobiographical letters reached us; TDVIA s.v.
‘Murad Buhârî’ (H. I. Çimçek). I will dwell upon the intellectual connection between Kadiza­
de, his likely intellectual reconciliation with Ibn Arabi, Müceddidi Nakçibendis, and the di­
verse contents of Damadzade’s manuscript that were discussed above in a forthcoming study,
tentatively entitled The Disenchantment o f Sunni Islam: A populist Muslim reformation in the
early modern Ottoman Empire.
287 I am going to elaborate on this particular perspective in The Disenchantment o f Sunni Islam.
 24 6 B A K IT E Z C A N

raphs to prose, line breaks to poetry, and parentheses for M uslim exp ression s o f gratitu­
de to G od, A li, Ibn Arabi, and scholars, and sp ellin g ‘g ’ w ith rather than ^ in Persian
in order m ake the text easier to read. “\ ” indicates the end or beginning o f lines in the
text o f 97 MMT; and d oes the sam e for A 26 8 8 . In the rare instances w hen I read a
word differently, such as in som e p oetic quotations, I have noted the sp elling found in the
m anuscript in the footnotes. M ost differen ces betw een the m anuscripts are indicated in
the footnotes, but such things as a m issin g shadda in on e o f the manuscripts has not been
noted (A 2 6 8 8 u ses the shadda m uch m ore than 97 M TT).

jLuiâ \ 4j a [5 0 b ]
^ ll j l L _ l c f A A9 j j jl \ ^ Cj Ia J J d A ij " q.

/ (JJxlLoÜ A j j ^1^.^)]! \ Üil ^Jo] .SaA -, j d l fjA J IIJ All! à ■» [6 2 è ]

/ Lo ^ic. 1 ..aa  il^j 12345678Uj i ljjji 3Lùj \ ^ p i^ l^Lo! 1j jl ljn ail (JUj
4' ' tj-l-aJlLj jâki

il / p j A c. Ail Jüc. \ liiA A j j u .ù-A j ^»lc. A i ^£1 ~ ] ^ ij \ j

^"lûjt / AHa] IjJl^tJ ail ^-AAaJ ;-.jAc. !3a \ d\A-y u*i t^ j ^KVl (jl U] La ^allâ 6jaau«Lu]

7 " ^ l c . A i é l ] (_Jiul La \ L.MJ ' f j " J U j J lâ j

" f-vl.a n > U L a j l â A Vj" J l n J (JÜj

1 This introduction is not included in the Milli Kütüphane copy of the letter. That copy carries
this title instead: Risâla mansüba li-Ibn al-Qâdï- rahimahu Allah; A 2688, 62b.
2 I followed the spelling of the Qur’anic verse (49:6) that Kadizade Mehmed is quoting here.
Both copies include a typo and read: «WA
3 There is a spelling mistake in A 2688, 62b: Vj5.
4 The text in between the quotation marks is Qur’an, 49:6. Kadizade Mehmed or the copyist
must have written this from memory as the text actually does not follow the Qur’anic spelling,
which uses diacritical marks rather than an alif, for instance, to indicate some long vowels. I
kept the additional alifs of the letter (see the first and last words of the verse).
5 Allah is missing in A 2688, 62b.
6 The Qur’anic text in between the quotation marks is from 24:15-17.1 kept the small variants
in the letter: the wa at the beginning of 24:16 is skipped, and an alif is added to the spelling of
subhânaka.
7 The quotation is from the Qur’an, 17:36.
8 The text in between the quotation marks is Qur’an, 68:10-11 ; 97 MTT, 50b, adds al-âya to the
end of the quotation, which usually refers to the rest of the verse but in this case both verses
are quoted in full.
 TH E PO R TR A IT OF TH E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 247

j / A-tu-cùllj AiV \ (Jj Al-oJ V (jl Aiu A_a!1 J ja la i! t_5l& ^ ç.LûLlÜ (Jta /
V j t$J (j-=alc. AiV J lx J ^ AjJaitJJj (jc. \ Ajij cJlj ^ xaSU^*Ij " ^ 1 x3 A]jal
^£^0 V j / V j " ^ I x J Aijf l ] (jjuÆ XJ V j (j-a Ijo H s k l" ^-11x3 \ L_jjlàJ|
^ U l l x - o j LaLaJ ^ A I a ja j \

C ^ é h t ^ 910234561718920d il* ü lj jL \ ^ l6 LSJ ^ k j / CjUIa \ & y th aJ JUa fj&x J l J * .j

î8\ "aW ^I é L ^

20"élliaalc. UilS \ tlù^ (jlj lélUui-a ll^Li-a CjàS / ^jl" (JlSâ ^A jfr <&i

4ÂilâJI J l i " I ûa i^ i'i L j j | (J15 " iji£ ,j \ C ili 0 3 1 " / aJ J lia a à A^JI O lu jjj LI £3j
nASü \ j lO ux-a q j S j V ^ L û ll (ji jjjia j- a l! ^J-al L " |c.<U,ujJ (Jtââ "A o it-a \ ASü (Jss.^)
l^£ 222345^aLoj]i (_53c- iaOxilj 22|A-q!>1£J Aillait / Q x a< u À à

<_ilLu) p^nil *uil » l j j jjjojjj A-uj lAIjjjæ'iI téljjS ^là \ Oii^.|

24m ^> j (jic.I t5jil_jil l A l p l  jlix ‘"'«h \ Jâ elû£ (jiî

25<jjà ùW ^ ^ t£ jiü [ 5 1 a] (>=>jê- j

C2Aj j £ j AaUt_^Juu^)ij \ (JLx a£
oUS^j j ô ùj j J j V
iJi ' oLi ^4tA j l \ piuj.Vn'i ij5xil j
c 5 J i - X i u i A^ \ dixiLoc. t^j ÿl i._uü'Îx ^ ^pl

9 The following is paraphrased and sometimes directly quoted from al-Ghazzali, Ihya ' 'ulum al-
din, 4 vols ([Cairo] [1916]), 111:135-136; see notes 15, 18,20, 23 below.
10 A 2688, 62b, reads lhAj .
11 The quotation is from the Qur’an, 31:17.
12 The Qur’anic text in between the quotation marks is from 49:12.
13 This Qur’anic quotation is also from 49:12.
14 A 2688, 62b, reads aLuAu.
15 Compare al-Ghazzali, Ihyâ ' 'ulümal-dïn, 111:135.
16 A 2688, 62b, reads
17 A 2688, 62b, reads
18 Compare al-Ghazzali, Ihya 'ulüm al-dïn, 111:136.
19 Abbreviated in both copies as ji_k” .
20 Compare al-Ghazzali, Ihyâ ’ 'ulümal-dln, 111:136.
21 The copyist skipped the part between the “|” signs; A 2688, 62b.
22 A 2688, 62b, does not include a«51S.
23 Compare al-Ghazzali, Ihyâ ’ 'ulüm al-dïn, 111:136, where the plot and characters of the story
are actually different; see pp. 192-93 above.
24 These two distichs are from Ziyad ibn Muawiya (d. c. 604), better known as al-Nabighah al-
Dhubyani, one of the last pre-Islamic Arab poets. The last word of the first distich should have
been and the last word of the first line in the second distich ÂjQ=- or Âl'-’j ; compare Arber-
ry, Arabic Poetry, 35; Nabighah al-Dhubyani, Dtwân al-Nâbighah al-Dhubyânï bi-tamâmih,
san'at Ibn al-Sikkït wa-huwa al-Imâm Abu Yüsuf Ya'qub ibnlshâq (186-244 AH), ed. Sh. Fay-
sal (Beirut 1990 [2nd printing]), 77.
25 1 have preferred Sadi’s original ls^JS. to csAjL5 in the manuscript; compare Sadi, Kolliyat-e
 248 B A K IT E Z C A N

2^xC- A-2x UIjA A-aA _jl \ j i U .„b a ljJ l - I j! ^ JA.

^^CJjuÙajuÙJ L_iS _JÙfh \ i " i >h u (J&Ju A j <jl < -£ u j <_$! a£

28t-£Ls (jjbAji-li \ tluk j àkîi ^ f j* j 1 4>? u j t b *

29J j j j \ Aik^) j j - i AjLuü j AlkaJa (jjjj^j!-b J (jx«l
29ti£lù \ Ajj(^ Ai L^ite-- j

U-LluI Ûj Â. \ (JjUuJj J A^JIj (jjûa. CjXul.ll (JJi^ (J^i ^ ^ tj=

\ jb& ^ J&is* lM ÙÜj ( j U j JuLu lj j ! A a ( J * i a 5>

\ iS ^ fA t j ^ i j j£l lS-1j f-5 Ù J ? - < 3 ^ ù 2^ 4“

j}j3 J juj d^üb diàS j Jj 33* <**n j i j ^ k->Ai 5 J^j£ ùW^3

.i_jk 3 ^ J-*1(3“'®^'^ i^>-s (j£-« Jj ^ja ^_pjj \ ^jLm£ jlj AS

Q j Ij VI U £ ^ jlâ r - < j U ^ / ( j ^ O ^ l^A ^ CLu Ij j I \ Q jj-'O '* ^ Ij-a k l

( j V La£X* ( 5 ^ frtd jV I J ^ i} J \ / UXuü A il C51 ^ . ^ ^ j l j S J ( j a U ll 3 ^ ‘—'W3 " ^ L H \ ^Ai4il

^jixJi (j-a ( À -IaaJIj ) J^ilsu Jil! (,5-^3-^ “^J jl*-UJ (j1-13 ^ / J \ Ç-l^ijuili tjlai! QA A3k,V UXutll
UakJiJ L-iuuuJalij ^ j l l i j ^Jâuillj £tJ2uu<aii \ (jXJ Aj 3 ^ Axe. j AjijjJi / (—âjla-aiij AjUatij Axj^aJS \

<__£jL u sü jl! ^-iJaU Jl j X u i j \ Cji^jâ! j ^ ,j\c - ^ U t J dJüi ^ 3 * - b j}) < jjU £ ll pUaLü! ^m.AAlla f\ C-13
^ j l c - pU a.1 L_llüS C u ! J J 3 j f l J j l l 3 jjL ^ tiâ ll S j ^ u i J ! \ jâ a]j | jjA jJ u tU M i ^ JA & . / A j j J ^-a

(_ g ^ J L ujjj [51 b ] t— ls^ t-ijiu il l_jIjS C utllLj Auij^l ^ V tj 3 ^ 3 ^ 33a (^jjl

lis ij b 3 ^2^- 6 ^ J _>»jiJ j j û i l j \ j ù j - a U.AjS C i-a-ajlj c j j l x - a ll / (*_âjljC.j
D^J^I ^ 1 \ O L ^ -jy l t-_salj-a]| J jju j *2678930134jjli* JI j jy jlillj f\ ^ A i^a jlll

Sa'di, ed. Mohammed Ali Faroghi, 7th printing (Tehran 1379), 196, line 6.
26 Compare, Sadi, Kolliyât-e Sa'di, 195, lines 3-6, where one reads lsjij j instead of <jÀo=-, «U.
instead of J 1^; there are also some insignificant spelling variants, such as lSo^ ji aj instead of
jàj, tiba.1 instead of e^u^i, Cu^l p£ instead of e j ^ . I have followed Sadi’s original uM
rather than u%I in the text of the manuscript, which must be a copyist’s mistake; 1 have also
preferred Sadi’s co^ j j to in the manuscript.
27 Compare Sadi, Kolliyât-e Sa'di, 195, line 1, where it reads rather than and oi1in­
stead of ù1; and and eLi..i».»j are spelled as cii^l cy and (>4j .
28 Compare Sadi, Kolliyât-e Sa ‘dl, 194, line 11, where one reads instead of AiA
29 Compare Sadi, Kolliyât-e Sa'di, 192, line 19, where one reads instead of Amik, which is
based on the Arabicised form (duil») of the Persian caü; and j j J is spelt as j> j J.
30 Compare Sadi, Kolliyât-e Sa ‘dl, 195, line 2, where AuA» is spelt asaj-I 4 h, and Aj S aj as
31 Compare Sadi, Kolliyât-e Sa'di, 319, line 18 - 320, line 1; where one reads C p instead of
oip, A'jity instead of and P »Aib instead of °AHb. There are also some insignificant
spelling variants, such as jj instead of cii^ ^ aS j b instead of Ij ù5^ instead of I
à )1j j instead of Oijj, A A> instead of A “ , A u i i instead of e b y b j have preferred Sadi’s A>
aj a

over aW in the text of the manuscript. Also, please note that the 16 lines of Arabic and Persian
poetry between the “|” signs are skipped in A 2688, 62b.
32 A 2688 has the abbreviation ^ instead of J 1" .
33 A 2688 abbreviates oA11 as fjldl >b.l.
34 Both manuscripts have this word spelled as A15*11.
 TH E PO R TR A IT OF TH E PR E A C H E R AS A Y O U N G M AN 249

La u ± x jll \ L_j L1 J (^L lLûJIj / ^ L - a l l j ‘l l l j L t> 35^367 a ?

\ CX& La Ù3U j i S V i ^luiSI 383940C_iui! L-iA a .AaJ CAui / ^jVI J i t_5^ a l l \ 37L_sÂAj (JA ^gàa j - l u a j ^laJl j j c .

A[_jâ^ V LiLal j I lé ü j ( Jjâ l Y j \ ( Jl* a Y lj / djLaj-sall j d llÀ JI jLLifcjj J l Jagail J a llla « a j)j t A t-

\ léLj A-aaàj Ulj" ^ilgj

L_d£l A jia ll C jL ^ jjill £ya Sj j j S Ac.jja-v.a \ G ig a-% y^ILa ( J j Ij I t^k ^1 ÿjLî^ jil lift [£> j^j] t ^ n ..j
41| e j ] l j \ j 2æ - _jt AJuai ^i| alyîj (Q_jjYI o^yji (jaA a] j>a^.Yl d ij^ a ^ Ilj \ ^jLill / <Jla 4^Jtg_ja|
P ^ L_llj£ j Aj ySjLâjll A"j U \ ygjYULaaJI ÿ)jY / (j-a_ÿ*-aâll Aj ^ 4345aUaâJI L.L.a5 L_lUS
43\ ^uA^jjl AjAIi ÿ)jl ùj*-aj ^jiJI AjiuiJj Agj^}23l / à j . A' ^ k \ Aj ij j Â]! 44A-aaüj 43 J j^ jll
Ijiijj a Joj Ic . Llâtàl! \ (> - ^ l j j £ 3 y^j! jlaaall / j ^ i 46l j l j S j AaI aI! ^^)L L
J Ü I \ ^ (J*^a^3 pLalxil j L S ÿ>a t-aL-rax AjLaxjuj 4^^jc. j / LuLa \ ^ jjjL a jj <jjjLa 4 ’^C- ^ jllA ll
(jC. (JÜLûYI I ^ L ja l LiLaQ ç-Laic. \ i_ÿ^x }\ Aa^. (^à C„,uS^,fl / (Jiaj ^-auU ( j a _j$ia y^lc- -,' L<~_
^ j c . AljS^. La ^-LL \ ( j£ 3 j j Y I ÛL“j ^ 14784L j ^j-a e^)SÀI ^a]j ^aA^j-al C lfiia U / \ ALx e-àâjJJ ^ j ^ a l i
^ l a lj)^qVn\ ^ 1 \ Aj Ija -u ij al^ic-VI / a^Lalâ ^jailjll (joj V j)

(Jjâl V a_ljl£llj (jAla-all ^jlJAxl! ^ \ (_£ÛJ (jjj ]Aj JJC- V iaâa ÜA

Jjt, l^a.1 4950123_ja.jl V j \ a_jUkl V tP lj jlaJ (JÜjLj / (JiaLJIj j-a [5 2 a ] <3^
A ijc j jjjU aJI L a lj oAlgifca Ajl j Lalla (JjaJI Lai Aj ]j \ ^ L t j / jill ^ jiL j^aiuajl ^A5J La Aj I ^ j ^ \g 1 2ll
I^jL- a-iuusa! \ j ^5LuJI aLajVI AJua^ ^LLI (,5^ ! / Lal^ ~*^l Ytaj^L. ^ La&5\^^ a^5^ ^
^jalau^all *■;‘ " Aàaaj ^jxaJLall a_jj t 'I^S LjL \ -os!La>aII LiI_j l ^ill ^ ^>j^a]| ^j ^ l l / d u lj LI ^
(jjA^Âa-all f\ a ljia ll J l j â l j

^^’’^jjlIVu L-jlftà^a 4_^l IjalLi jjill ^.Laaaj"

al-LaVI \ (^5^*43 t—L£ ^ ^ 1 5Ü "(Ja-aAa (JîaJI / (JaI ^I*JI" [^sLu *»ïll A-a^.^)] \ (_ffJtaLujll ^LaVI JL
S3e.La.VI ^gk !3£ Aa Lila Sjl^C' pg n.1^aLalt ^}Laa A£>La^ L_alullj

35 97 MTT has misspelt this word as ù jâ.

36 A 2688 has it as £>i!.
37 A 2688 has it as i>j.
38 A 2688 has it as 4-uJl.
39 The Qur’an, 93:11.
40 Lfcà is missing in A 2688.
41 aJJIj jàz. ,yjl Lka^i is missing in A 2688.
42 a is missing in both manuscripts.
43 jLI in A 2688.
44 Ciagj in both manuscripts.
45 fjiljjl in A 2688.
46 saLS in 97 MTT.
47 «> in A 2688.
48 J * in A 2688.
49 lj?-jl in A 2688.
50 jtLjla in A 2688; compare Taçkôprüzade, 260; see p. 195 above.
51 yj V in A 2688.
52 The quotation is from the Qur’an, 26:227.
53 Compare al-Ghazzali, Ihyâ ’ 'ulüm al-dïn, 1:41.
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED:
T H E P R E -T A N Z IM A T R E C E P T IO N O F T H E MUQADDIMA,
F R O M K IN A L I Z A D E T O § A N lZ A D E

M a r in o s S ariyannis *

T he in tr o d u ct io n of I bn K h a ld u n ’ s view s into Ottoman literature has been the object

o f a minor debate in the historiography o f Ottoman ideas.*1 Ziyaeddin Fahri Findikoglu
in the.early 1950s and Bernard Lewis in the mid-1980s maintained that Ottoman authors
had developed an early interest for the famous Arab historian and philosopher.2 As Ber­
nard Lewis was stating in 1986:3

* Foundation for Research and Technology-Hellas, Institute for Mediterranean Studies.

1 The literature on Ibn Khaldun and his work is huge. General surveys and introductions are al­
ways useful: F. Rosenthal, ‘Translator’s Introduction’ in idem (tr.), Ibn Khaldun, The Muqad-
dimah: An Introduction to History, 3 vols (New York 1967 [2nd ed., 1st ed. 1958]), xxix-lxxxvii;
B. B. Lawrence, ‘Introduction to the 2005 Edition’, in F. Rosenthal (tr.), N. J. Dawood (ed.),
Ibn Khaldun, The Muqaddimah: An Introduction to History. The Classic Islamic History o f the
World (Princeton 1969, repr. 2015), vii-xxv; E. I. J. Rosenthal, Political Thought in Medieval
Islam. An Introductory Outline (Cambridge 1958), 84-109; A. Black, The History o f Islamic
Political Thought. From the Prophet to the Present (Edinburgh 2011 [2nd ed.]), 169-185. From
among the most recent publications, see, e.g., B. B. Lawrence (ed.), Ibn Khaldun and Islamic
Ideology (Leiden 1984); M. J. Viguera Molins (ed.), Ibn Khaldun, the Mediterranean in the
14th Century: Rise and Fall o f Empires (Seville, 2006); A. J. Fromherz, Ibn Khaldun: Life and
Times (Edinburgh 2010). Cf. the bibliography in A. al-Azhmeh, Ibn Khaldun in Modern Schol­
arship: A Study in Orientalism (London 1981), 231-318. The editions of Ibn Khaldun’s work
I use here are Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, and its abridged edition: Rosenthal (tr.) - Da­
wood (ed.), The Muqaddimah.
2 On Ibn Khaldun’s influence in Ottoman historical and political thought see: H. Ziya (Olken)
and Z. Fahri (Findikoglu), ibni Haldun (Istanbul 1940), 39; Z. F. Findikoglu, ‘Tiirkiyede Ibn
Haldunizm’, in 60. dogum yih miinasebetiyle Fuad Kôprülü Armagam (Istanbul 1953), 153-
164; idem, ‘L’Ecole Ibn Khaldounienne en Turquie’, in Z. V. Togan (ed.), Proceedings o f the
Twenty-Second Congress o f Orientalists. Vol. 2: Communications (Leiden 1957), 269-273; B.
Lewis, Tbn Khaldün in Turkey’, in M. Sharon (ed.), Studies in Islamic History and Civilization
(Jerusalem 1986), 527-530 [reprinted in B. Lewis, Islam in History. Ideas, People, and Events
in the Middle East (Chicago and La Salle 1993), 233-236, and, more recently, in Viguera
Molins (ed.), Ibn Khaldun, the Mediterranean in the 14th Century, 1:376-380]; C. Fleischer,
‘Royal Authority, Dynastic Cyclism and Tbn Khaldunism’ in Sixteenth Century Ottoman Let­
ters’, Journal o f Asian and African Studies, 18 (1983), 198-220 [reprinted in Lawrence (ed.),
252 M A R IN O S SA R IY A N N IS

What is much less known is the earlier interest and appreciation of his work among the Otto­
mans. It has often been said that Ibn Khaldun was neglected and forgotten by his own people,
until he was again brought to their notice by Western scholarship. It is doubtful if this is true
for North Africa; it is certainly not true for the Ottoman East, where Ibn Khaldun was known
and read, exercising considerable influence.

Three years earlier, in 1983, Cornell Fleischer had taken the other side, arguing that
Ibn Khaldun’s ideas had not appealed to Ottoman thinkers till the midseventeenth cen­
tury, when their sense o f ‘decline’ resonated with his stage theory, while earlier forms of
‘cyclist’ theories, such as Gelibolulu Mustafa A li’s, were o f a more ‘autonomous’ nature:34

It has long been taken as axiomatic that Ottoman men of letters... were well acquainted with
the celebrated Muqaddimah of Ibn Khaldun... Received scholarly opinion suggests either that
Ibn Khaldun had a definite but undefined influence on Ottoman historiography or that his ideas
nearly revolutionized Ottoman historical thinking. Such judgments mislead by their very gen­
erality...

In this paper, I will seek to give an answer to the question o f the first appearance
o f Ibn Khaldun’s thought in Ottoman texts, to reconsider seventeenth-century reception
and, finally, to study Ibn Khaldunist influences on eighteenth-century Ottoman political
thinkers. I will not discuss the reception o f Ibn Khaldunist ideas in the Tanzimat period
and in the late Ottoman Empire, especially through Cevdet Pasha’s (d. 1895) translation
and historical work, as it is beyond my expertise and as such an account would lengthen
further an already long essay.5

I. K in a l iz a d e : T h e I n v is ib l e I n t r o d u c t io n

All major accounts o f Ibn Khaldun’s influence in Ottoman letters begin with Kâtip Çelebi
(d. 1657). Hilmi Ziya Ülken, Fahri Fmdikoglu, Zeki Velidi Togan and others mention
Ahmed Taskopriizade (d. 1561), one o f the most celebrated Ottoman scholars o f his time,

Ibn Khaldun and Islamic Ideology, 46-68]; E. Okumuç, ‘ibn Haldun ve Osmanli’da çôküç tar-
tiçmalan’, Dîvân - Disipliner Arasi Çah^malar Dergisi, 6 (1999/1), 183-209; S. Buzov, ‘His­
tory’, in J. J. Elias (ed.), Key Themes for the Study o f Islam (Oxford 2010), 182-199; C. Do-
gan, ‘16. ve 17. yüzyil Osmanh siyasetnâme ve ahlâknâmelerinde ibn Haldûnizm: Kinahzâde
Ali Efendi, Kâtip Çelebi ve Na’îmâ ômekleri’, Uluslararasi Sosyal Araçtirmalar Dergisi, 6
(2013), 197-214.
3 Lewis, ‘Ibn Khaldün in Turkey’.
4 Fleischer, ‘Royal Authority, Dynastie Cyclism’, 198. Notions of cyclical time (of a much great­
er scale) were also present in some trends of early Islam; see E. Krinis, ‘Cyclical Time in
the Ismâ'îlî Circle of Ikhwân al-safâ’ (Tenth Century) and in Early Jewish Kabbalists Circles
(Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries)’, SI, 111 (2016), 20-108.
5 See Fmdikoglu, ‘Türkiyede ibn Haldûnizm’; Okumuç, ‘ibn Haldun ve Osmanh’da çôküç tar-
tiçmalan’, 183-184 and 204-206; Y. Yildinm, ‘Mukaddime’mn Osmanh dônemi Türkçe tercü-
mesi’, Dîvân - Disipliner Arasi Çali$malar Dergisi, 21 (2006), 17-33. On Cevdet Pasha see
Ch. Neumann, Araç tarih amaç Tanzimat: Tarih-i Cevdet’in siyasi anlami (Istanbul 2000).
 O TT O M A N IBN K H A LD U N ISM R EV ISITE D 253

as being familiar with Ibn Khaldun’s work.6 However, Taçkôprüzade does not mention
his name and, moreover, the taxonomy o f sciences in his encyclopaedic Miftâh al-sa ‘âda
wa misbâh al-siyâda fim a w z û 'â t al- 'ulüm (‘The key to happiness and the guide to no­
bility in the objects o f science’, completed in 1557) has no relation whatsoever to Ibn
Khaldun’s categorisation o f human knowledge;7 a similar suggestion by Petra Kappert,
who saw Ibn Khaldunist influences in Bostan’s Süleymannâme (1542) also seems mis­
taken.8 On the other hand, according to Abdulhak Adnan Adivar, Madina al- ‘ilm (‘The
city o f knowledge’) by the scholar Muhammed b. Ahmed Hâfiz al-Dîn Acamî (d. 1550)
mentions Ibn Khaldun and his work;9 as this work was not accessible to me I could not
confirm this reference.
The historian Naima, to whom we will revert later, claims that Kinahzade Ali Çelebi
(d. 1572) took from Ibn Khaldun his formulation o f the famous ‘circle o f justice’ in his
monumental work on ethics and government, Ahlâk-i Alâî (‘Sublime Ethics’; composed
in 1563-1565);10 however, Fleischer rightly suggests that there were more direct ways for
Kinahzade to find references to the circle.11 And indeed, the Circle o f Justice was long
known in Ottoman letters, ever since Nasireddin Tusi’s school o f thought, and especially

6 Ziya (Ülken) - Fahri (Fmdikoglu), Ibni Haldun, 39; A. Z. V. Togan, Tarihde usul (Istanbul
1950), 170. Fmdikoglu does not repeat this assertion in his 1953 article (‘Tiirkiyede Ibn Hal-
dunizm’).
7 Ahmad b. Mustafa (Tashkupri-zadah), Miftâh as-Sa’âdah wa misbâh as-siyâdah f î mawdu’ât
al-ulûm, eds K. K. Bakry and A. Abu’l-Nur (Cairo 1968); M. T. Gôkbilgin, ‘Taçkôprü-zâde ve
ilmî gôrüçleri’, I: Islam Tetkikleri Enstitiisü Dergisi, 6 (1975), 127-138; II: ïslâm Tetkikleri En-
stitüsü Dergisi, 6 (1976), 169-182; F. Unan, ‘Taçkoprülü-zâde’nin kaleminden XVI. yüzyihn
“ilim” ve “âlim” anlayiçi’, OA, 17 (1997), 149-264; and cf. Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah,
2:436fif.; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah, 343ff.
8 P. Kappert, ‘Zur Charakteristik osmanischer historiographisch-narrativer Quellen des 16. Jahr-
hunderts’, in W. Voigt (ed.), XIX. Deutscher Orientalistentag vom 28. September bis 5 Oktober
1975 in Freiburg im Breisgau (Wiesbaden 1977), 1204-1209 at 1205. The “arabischen Termi­
ni” she gives as examples of Ibn Khaldunist influence (as-sultân zillu ’llâhi fi 7- ‘ard, al-insân
al-madam b i’t-tab ', ictimai hayatin zaruri olmasi) belong in fact to the Persian falasifa tradi­
tion and can be found in authors such as Amasî or Kinahzade, copying in their turn Tusi or
Dawwani.
9 A. A. Adivar, ‘ibn Haldûn’, ÏA, 740; Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, lilxvii. On this au­
thor see C. Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, 2+3 vols (Leiden 1937-1942),
2:453. Brockelmann notes one copy of Acami’s work (Istanbul, Kôpr. 1387).
JO More precisely, he says that Ibn Khaldun “mentions a circle ofjustice” which “was taken up by
Kinahzade Ali Efendi”: Mustafa Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 6 vols (Konstantiniye H. 1281/1864-
66), 1:40; M. ipçirli (ed.), Târih-i Na ’îmâ (Ravzatii’l-Hüseyn fiHulâsati Ahbâri ’l-Hâfikayn), 4
vols (Ankara 2007), 1:30.
11 Fleischer, ‘Royal Authority, Dynastie Cyclism’, 201. The notion of the ‘circle of justice’ comes
from a very old Iranian and Middle Eastern tradition, while it is also to be found in the Central
Asian Kutadgu Bilig. See L. T. Darling, A History o f Social Justice and Political Power in the
Middle East: The Circle o f Justice from Mesopotamia to Globalization (New York 2013); H.
Inalcik, ‘Kutadgu Bilig’de Tiirk ve iran siyaset nazariye ve gelenekleri’, in Ref t Rahmeti Arat
Için (Ankara 1967), 259-271 at 263.
254 M A R IN O S SA RIY A N N IS

Jalal al-Din Dawwani (d. 1502), had been translated, adapted, and modified.12 Before
Kmalizade, this very well-known term o f Middle Eastern political thought had been used
in plenty o f treatises, including Kitab-i m ir ’atü'1-mülûk (‘Book o f a mirror for kings’)
by one o f the first political authors (mostly translating Tusi), Ahmed bin Htisameddin
Amasî, composed in 1406.13 To be sure, Kmalizade’s description o f the ‘circle’ is identi­
cal with that found in the Muqaddima;14 on the other hand, Ibn Khaldun copied it (and
states it explicitly) from Pseudo-Aristotle’s Sirr al-asrâr (‘Secret o f secrets’, also known
under its Latin designation o f Secretum secretorurri), the famous medieval compilation
o f advice which had exerted a major influence in Islamicate (as well as in Medieval
European) thought.15 As a matter o f fact, Kmalizade did nothing more than copy his mo­
del, Dawwani’s Akhlâq-e Jalâlï, which also ends with the same appendix from Pseudo-
Aristotle culminating in the circular formulation o f the ‘circle o f justice’.16 Thus, on this
point Fleischer seems to be absolutely right in concluding that “there is no evidence to
support N aim a’s supposition that Kmalizade read Ibn Khaldun”.

12 On these two authors see Rosenthal, Political Thought in Medieval Islam, 210-223; D. M.
Donaldson, Studies in Muslim Ethics (London 1963), 169-184; M. Fakhry, Ethical Theories
in Islam (Leiden 1994 [2nd ed.]), 131-141 and 143ff.; Black, The History o f Islamic Political
Thought, 149-157 and 188-189.
13 M. Ç. Yilmaz, ‘Political Thought in the Beginning of the Ottoman Empire as Expressed in
Ahmed bin Husameddin Amasi’s Kitab-i miratü’l-mülûk (1406)’, unpublished M.A. thesis,
Bilkent University, 1998, 142. Other authors who mention the circle before Kmalizade are
idris-i Bitlisî (d. 1520) and Niçanci Celalzade Mustafa (d. 1566/7): see A. Akgündüz, Osmanli
Kanunnâmeleri ve hukuki tahlilleri, 9 vols (Istanbul 1990-1996), 3:32; M. Balci, ‘Celalzade’nin
Mevahibii’l-hallakfi meratibi’l-ahlak isimli eseri’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Hatran Univer­
sity, 1996, 69 and 81.
14 Kmalizâde Ali Çelebi, Ahlâk-i Alâ’î, ed. M. Koç (Istanbul 2007), 539 (another instance of the
‘circle of justice’ occurs in ibid., 483); Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:81-82; Rosenthal
(tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah, 4L
15 On the ‘circle of justice’ in the Sirr al-asrdr see Darling, A History o f Social Justice and Po­
litical Power, 74-76; see also M. Manzalaoui, ‘The Pseudo-Aristotelian Kitdb sirr al-asrdr.
Facts and Problems’, Oriens, 23-24 (1974), 147-257; M. Grignaschi, ‘L’origine et les me­
tamorphoses du ‘Sirr al-asrar” , Archives d ’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du Moyen Age,
43 (1976), 7-112; R. Forster, Das Geheimnis der Geheimnisse: Die arabischen und deuts-
chen Fassungen des pseudo-aristotelischen Sirr al-asrar / Secretum Secretorum (Wiesbaden
2006). Sirr al-asrar was translated into Ottoman Turkish in 1571 for the Grand Vizier Sokollu
Mehmed Pasha: H. Yilmaz, ‘The Sultan and the Sultanate: Envisioning Rulership in the Age
of Süleymân the Lawgiver (1520-1566)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Flarvard University,
2005, 59-62.
16 Of the two English translations of Dawwani’s work, this part is translated in full only by S. H.
Deen (ed.), The English Translation o f "The Akhlak-i-Jalali”, a Code o f Morality in Persian
Composed by Jalal-ud-din Mohammad alias Allama Dawwani (Lahore 1939), 249. The oth­
er translator, William Francis Thompson, stops just before this point: W. F. Thompson (ed.),
Practical Philosophy o f the Muhammadan People, Exhibited in its Professed Connexion with
the European... being a Translation o f the Ahklâk-i-Jalâly, the Most Esteemed Ethical Work of
Middle Asia (London 1839), 457.
 O TT O M A N IBN K H A LD U N ISM R E V ISIT E D 255

Is this exact? It is true that Km ahzade’s Ahlâk-i A lâî is an almost complete transla­
tion o f the Akhlâq-e Jalâlî, itself an adaptation o f Tusi’s Akhlâq-e Nàsirï;17 on the other
hand, this enables us to follow in detail and with exactness whatever changes, additions
or omissions he made in relation to his source. These differences are relatively few in
number, and some o f them are manifestly intended to criticise specific Ottoman policies;
more particularly, Kmalizade seems to have belonged to the opposition against Siiley-
m an’s and Ebussuud’s policy o f supplementing or even replacing Sharia with customary
law and Sultanic edicts.18
From among the few other changes Kmalizade made to his rendering o f Dawwani’s
advice, there are some that may imply his knowledge o f Ibn Khaldun’s work. In his fourth
chapter, Kmalizade deals with the subject o f economy. He explains that the sources of
revenues may be categorised in several ways; for instance, revenue can be divided into
two categories, i.e., revenue that comes through gain and by choice (e.g., trade or craft)
vs. revenue that comes incidentally, such as gifts or inheritance. All this comes from
Tusi and Dawwani (and can also be found in previous falasifa-influenced Ottomans like
Amasî); but then Kmalizade adds other views, for instance, that revenue can come from
commerce, craftsmanship, or agriculture. A third view sees four means of revenue, adding
leadership (emaret), i.e., pensions and salaries (vezaifii ulûfât) coming from the ruler:19

Some have divided the ways to acquire property into three categories: commerce, craftsman­
ship, agriculture. And some have increased these ways of revenue to four, adding leadership.
Because pensions and salaries come from the ruler’s rank (mertebe-i emaret kismindan add ol-
unmakla), this is a true categorisation.

This addition, which is quite fit for an empire such as the Ottoman, might be
Kmahzade’s own.20 However, it can also be found in Ibn Khaldun’s work; the Tunisian
scholar reads:21

Certain thorough men of letters and philosophers, such as al-Hariri and others... said: ‘A liv­
ing is made by (exercising) political power (imârah), through commerce, agriculture, or the
crafts’. (The exercise of) political power is not a natural way of making a living. We do not
have to mention it here. Something was said before... about governmental tax collection and
the people in charge of it. Agriculture, the crafts, and commerce, on the other hand, are natural
ways of making a living.

17 See the detailed comparison of the three works in B. Tezcan, ‘The Definition of Sultanic Legi­
timacy in the Sixteenth Century Ottoman Empire: The Ahlâk-i Alâ’î of Kinahzâde Ali Çelebi
(1510-1572)’, unpublished M.A. thesis, Princeton University, 1996, 65ff.
18 See M. Sariyannis, A History o f Ottoman Political Thought Up to the Early Nineteenth Century
(Leiden 2018), 122-123.
19 Kinahzâde, Ahlâk-iAlâ % ed. Koç, 335-336.
20 See Tezcan, ‘The Definition of Sultanic Legitimacy’, 83-84 and cf. Dawwani’s text in Thomp­
son (ed.), Practical Philosophy o f the Muhammadan People, 252; Deen (ed.), The English
Translation o f “The Akhlak-i-Jalali”, 129.
21 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 2:316; omitted in Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqa-
ddimah.
256 M A R IN O S SA RIY A N N IS

I am not the first to propose this connection, as it was also noticed by Metin Kunt
in the context o f a later (and substantially revised) use o f this formulation, namely in
Naim a’s work.22 There is also a significant difference in how Kmahzade and Ibn Khaldun
understand leadership: as we may deduce from his reference to tax collection, Ibn Khal­
dun has in mind the ruler’s income as a source o f revenue different from other, ‘produc­
tive’, sources. As for Kmahzade, his reference to “pensions and salaries” leads us to the
conclusion that he meant the administrative elite’s revenue from the state treasury.23 In a
way, the difference between the two thinkers is deeper: Ibn Khaldun speaks o f wealth in
a ‘public’ sense, while Kmahzade uses a more ‘private’ notion, probably from his expe­
rience as a member o f the Ottoman governmental-judicial apparatus. One is tempted to
see a sense o f ‘state’ closer to its modem notion, i.e., as a self-reproductive mechanism
distinct from the person o f the ruler: for Ibn Khaldun, the revenue from taxes may be
considered as belonging to the ruler, whereas Kmahzade prefers to see the wealth o f the
state as something producing private revenue for its employees.24
Ibn Khaldun’s own source is obscure (Rosenthal notes that no such quotation is to be
found in the works by the famous al-Hariri), and thus we cannot exclude the possibility
that Kmahzade used another source, common to both thinkers. But there is a second in­
stance o f Ibn Khaldunist influence, which uses an idea clearly attributed to Ibn Khaldun’s
original thought: after the final part o f the book on house economics, Kmahzade moves
on to the book on government (tedbir-i medine), the smallest one o f his work and prob­
ably added in a second phase o f composition.25 This is how he begins:26

Let it be known that civilised societies (temeddün) are a general composition and arrangement
of various classes and communities. Every class has its appropriate degree [of power] and
place, and professes its special activities... The constitution of the world is based on the equi­
librium among these components... For it is known that in the beginning of a state [or dynasty]
{her devletin ibtidasi) a ruling class {her taife ki bir devletin ashabidir) gets a unanimous agree­
ment and its members support and help each other, like the members of a single body; because
every person has power up to a definite extent, but the power of many gathered together in a
place is greater than the power of each individual. A small class, when is united, prevails over a
larger but fragmented one. Is it not clear that any ruling class is not even the one-tenth [in num­
bers] of its subjects (reayasina)? But they are unanimous; and they prevail over the subjects
because the latter are not... Experience has shown that whenever such a ruling class has unity
and mutual assistance, it is safe from difficulties and deficiencies; but when later fragmenta­
tion and disagreement appear among this class, it starts to weaken and finally ends in ruins.

22 I. M. Kunt, ‘Derviç Mehmed Paça, Vezir and Entrepreneur: A Study in Ottoman Political-Eco­
nomic Theory and Practice’, Turcica, 9 (1977), 197-214 at 208.
23 When Naima uses the same quotation, he clearly has in mind Ibn Khaldun’s meaning; but as
we will see, Naima read Ibn Khaldun in the original and copied him abundantly.
24 Cf. M. Sariyannis, ‘Ruler and State, State and Society in Ottoman Political Thought’, THR, 4
(2013), 83-117.
25 This was suggested by Tezcan, ‘The Definition of Sultanic Legitimacy’, 28-30, to explain the
fact that another version of Kinalizade’s theory on politics is also incorporated in the final part
of his book on house economics.
26 Kmalizâde, Ahlâk-i Alâ 7, ed. Koç, 479-480.
 O TT O M A N IBN K H A L D U N ISM R E V IS IT E D 257

This passage comes, as does most o f the work, from Dawwani’s Akhlâq-e Jalâll, but
Kmalizade has introduced a crucial point: where he stresses the unity o f the ruling class,
noting specifically that their numbers are very small in comparison to its subjects, Daw­
wani’s text had nothing more than the traditional eulogy o f unity and harmony among
the various classes (enforced by the ruler’s justice). For the sake o f comparison, here is
Dawwani’s relevant passage:27

Now society being a term for complete coalition between its various classes, as long as every
single class retains its proper place... assuredly, the temperament of the state is on the course
of equipoise, and its affairs bear the stamp of regularity. But no sooner do they depart from
this rule than disturbances result, tending to dissolve the bond of union, and introduce cor­
ruption and ruin. For it is admitted that the initiative of every state is correspondence in the
opinions of the aggregate. These, in point of co-operation, should stand in place of members
to the individual; and then the case would be, as if a person were brought into the world, pos­
sessing the powers of all who are in it... Since, then, the management of multitudes cannot
be carried on without a consorting unity, which is the unity of equity... as long as the prince
walks by the rule of equity... assuredly his kingdom will be well regulated. But if otherwise,
every class will be engrossed in the allurements of self-interest... till... the bond of union is
entirely dissolved.

Apart from Km ahzade’s apparent allusion to the Ottoman example (the reference
to the dynasty being one-tenth o f its subjects is as clear as it can get), it is tempting to
see here an echo o f Ibn K haldun’s ‘asabiyya or ‘esprit de corps’, the solidarity allowing
small nomadic tribes to prevail over large settled populations, only to fall in their turn
when their members become too accustomed to luxury; all the more so since Kmalizade
stresses that this solidarity characterises “the beginning o f a dynasty”. Even if we accept
that in the case o f ‘leadership’ as a source o f revenue both writers had a common source,
here there can be no doubt that Kmalizade’s source was Ibn Khaldun.28

27 Thompson (ed.), Practical Philosophy o f the Muhammadan People, 384-386. I also quote
Deen’s translation of the relevant passage [Deen (ed.), The English Translation o f "The
Akhlak-i-Jalali", 199-200]: “Since the term “society” is applicable to a general congrega­
tion of different classes as long as every one of these classes keeps itself within the limits of
its own respective position... so long shall the society necessarily maintain its equipoise in
temperament, and its affairs shall be throughout marked with harmonious adjustment. When,
however, it deviates from this principle, disagreement inevitably follows, which ultimately
leads to dissolution of bonds of harmony, and brings about disruption and anarchy. For it is an
established principle that every state is engendered by a general consensus of opinion among
a class of people, who in mutual cooperation must resemble the members of an individual
person. Such a cooperation has the effect of producing, as it were, in the world, a single in­
dividual possessed of the powers of all the people residing in that state... Since, therefore,
no multitude can be organised without a harmonious unity, which is equity... as long as the
king observes the rule of equity... so long shall his kingdom be regularly adjusted. Should it,
however, be otherwise, every class will be ruled by motives of self-interest... and in conse­
quence.. . bonds of union will break asunder.”
28 The similarity was also recently noticed by Dogan, ‘ 16. ve 17. yiizyil Osmanli siyasetnâme ve
ahlâknâmelerinde ibn Haldûnizm’, 205.
258 M A R IN O S SA RIY A N N IS

True, Kinalizade never mentions Ibn Khaldun’s name and we can only make sup­
positions as to how he became acquainted with his work. In Ottoman letters, there is
no reference to Ibn Khaldun whatsoever before Kâtip Çelebi’s mid-seventeenth century
encyclopaedic works; manuscripts o f the work in Ottoman libraries are numerous (not
to count the Ottoman translation o f Pirizade after 1730), but none o f them seems to date
from the Ottoman era earlier from the mid-seventeenth century.29 The fact that Kxnaliza-
de wrote most o f his voluminous treatise in Damascus (where Ibn Khaldun, then ajudge
in Cairo, had his famous meeting with Timur in 1402) may explain an enhanced access
to Arabic manuscripts. At any rate, there can be no doubt that the earliest date o f Ibn
Khaldunist theories appearing in Ottoman texts must now include Kinahzade’s work,
even though he does not mention Ibn Khaldun among his sources.30
One has to note that the first provable acquaintance o f an Ottoman with Ibn Khaldun
dates from 1598, when Veysî Efendi acquired a manuscript o f the Muqaddima in Cairo
(as deduced from his notes on it).31 There is no safe indication that this Veysî Efendi is
to be identified with the famous poet and scholar (d. 1628); however, it is quite probable,
since we know that Veysî had served as judge and governor secretary in Egypt during
these years.32 Apart from his other works, Veysî is famous for his Hâbname (‘Vision’ or
‘Dream book’, mentioned also as Vakianame), composed in the early 161 Os. In this work,
Veysî has a vision, where he sees Ahmed I meeting Alexander the Great and complaining
to him about his era; Alexander points out that all these problems (such as factionalism
and bloodshed) never ceased to be present in the history o f humanity and that the world
was never prosperous and thriving, at least not more than it is now.33 Perhaps it would not

29 Estimation according to Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:xc-xcix and the Turkish metase­
arch interfaces of catalogues of manuscript libraries, www.yazmalar.gov.tr and http://ktp.isam.
org.tr/ktpgenel/findrecords.php. A copy dated 1642 is in Konya il Halk Kütüphanesi, Konya
Bolge Yazma Eserler Kütüphanesi, 42 Kon 198/21 ; copied by Ahmed b. Ibrahim Dürri, it bears
the title Risaletü’l-tenbihât (‘Treatise of warnings’) and seems to be only a smart part of the
Muqaddima, as it consists only of 23 folios according to the catalogue entry. See http://www.
yazmalar.gov.tr/detay_goster.php?k= 198969 (accessed October 2015).
30 He mentions Tusi, Dawwani, and Vaiz-i Kâçifî (Kinalizâde, Ahlâk-i Alâ % ed. Koç, 38-39), and
occasionally other medieval authors.
31 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:xciii-xciv; Fleischer, ‘Royal Authority, Dynastic Cy-
clism’, 199. The manuscript is MS. Atif Efendi 1936.
32 See TDVtA, s.v. ‘Veysî’ (B. A. Kaya).
33 E. J. W. Gibb, A History o f Ottoman Poetry, 6 vols (London 1900-1909), 3:208-210; Veysî,
Beücu. Xa6-HaMe. Kuuza CHoeudeuun. Kpummecmu meKcm, nepeeod c mypeqmzo, eeedeHue
u npuMeuanuM [Veysî. Hâb-nâme. Dream Book. Critical text, translation from Turkish, intro­
duction and notes], ed. F. A. Salimzjanova (Moscow 1976); Hâb-nâme-i Veysî, ed. M. Al-
tun (Istanbul 2011). On this work see also P. Fodor, ‘State and Society, Crisis and Reform, in
15th-!7th Century Ottoman Mirror for Princes’, ActOrHung, 40 (1986), 217-240 at 227-228;
V. Günay, ‘Osmanh nasihat ve lslahatname geleneginde Veysi ve Habname’sinin yeri’, in E.
Causevic, N. Moacanin and V. Kursar (eds), Perspectives on Ottoman Studies: Papers from the
18th Symposium o f the International Committee o f Pre-Ottoman and Ottoman Studies (CIE-
PO) (Berlin 2010), 303-313; A. T. §en, ‘A Mirror for Princes, a Fiction for Readers: the Hab-
 O TT O M A N IB N K H A L D U N ISM R E V ISIT E D 259

be too far-fetched if we saw a distant echo o f Veysî’s readings from Ibn Khaldun in this
kind o f cyclism (presumably Veysî’s aim was to refute the main political discourse of his
era, which was focusing on decline as a result o f departure from the old law).34

II. F r o m K â t ip Ç e l e b i t o N a im a : T h e E m p h a s is o n S t a g e T h e o r y

Most scholars, from Fmdikoglu to Lewis and Fleischer, consider Kâtip Çelebi’s
Düstûrü ’l-amel li-islahi ’l-halel (‘Course o f measures to redress the situation’) as the first
introduction o f Ibn Khaldun’s ideas into Ottoman literature. Indeed, in this work, com­
posed in 1652/53, apart from a novel medical simile o f human society and a pioneering
definition o f state, one finds the first systematic introduction o f the Ibn Khaldunian no­
tion o f the ‘state stages’ into Ottoman philosophy o f history. Kâtip Çelebi argues that the
social condition o f man (insamn ictimaî hali) resembles the individual. An individual’s
life is naturally divided into three stages, namely growth, standstill, and physical decline
(,niimiiv; vukuf, inhitat); the coming o f each age, in its turn, depends on the disposition
o f the individual, so that a strong man comes to his old age, later than a weak one. In a
similar way, the social state o f man (previously defined as society or devlet, and here
Kâtip Çelebi departs significantly from his model, who clearly spoke of dynasties) is also
divided into three ages, depending on its strength: this is why some societies (cem ’iyet)
reached decline soon, whereas others (“like this exalted state”) were late in entering the
age o f standstill, because they had solid foundations and construction. Furthermore, spe­
cific signs show each age in both the individual and the social state o f humanity. Those
who want to take measures for redressing the conditions o f the commonwealth (umur-i
cumhur) have to act according to these signs: every period requires other measures, just
as in medicine a mature person cannot be treated with a cure for children:

Let it be known that the state (<devlet), which means realm and kingdom, consists, according
to another view, of the human society. Those who discern the secrets of the nature of beings
can see that its theoretical and practical state, if examined carefully, is clearly similar to the in­
dividual state of man; these two states are equal to each other... First of all, the natural life of
man is measured in three stages: these are the age of growth, that of standstill, and that of age­
ing and decline. The timing of these three stages is appointed according to each individual’s re­
alities... Now, the social state of man, which consists of the state (devlet), is also divided into
three stages: growth, standstill, and decline. In the same vein, societies differ from one another
as far as concerns these three stages; this is why some societies of the past passed into decline
before long, while others pass into standstill because of the disastrous lack of measures, just
as a young man may have an accident. Others, like this great state [of the Ottomans], have a
strong disposition and healthy foundations and consequently continue their life with standstill

nâme of Veysî and Dream Narratives in Ottoman Turkish Literature’, Journal o f Turkish Lit­
erature, 8 (2011), 41-65.
34 On this ‘anti-declinist’ interpretation of Veysî’s Habname see B. Tezcan, ‘From Veysî (d. 1628)
to Üveysî (fl. ca. 1630): Ottoman Advice Literature and its Discontents’, in S. Rauschenbach
and Ch. Windier (eds), The Castilian “Arbitristas " and the Cultural and Intellectual History
o f Early Modern Europe (Wiesbaden, forthcoming).
260 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

coming quite late. These stages have specific signs, either in their individual or social form;
those who want to take measures to readjust public affairs act according to these signs... Be­
cause, the cure applied to an old man cannot be suitable for a child, and vice versa...

A lthough, as Cornell F leischer again sh ow ed, ‘dynastic c y c lism ’ had already its h is­
tory in O ttom an letters, this is the first introduction o f Ibn K haldun’s fam ous theory o f
the law s o f states; w e have to note that, w hereas Ibn Khaldun used the w ord dawla in
the established m eaning o f ‘dynasty’, Kâtip Ç elebi u ses it in a quite different m eaning,
defining it as ‘human so c ie ty ’ ( ictima-i beçerîyeden ibaretdir).35 Kâtip Ç elebi definitely
knew Ibn K haldun’s w ork, as he had written an entry on the Muqaddima in his b ib liog­
raphical encyclopaedia, K a sh f al-zimûn ‘an asâmî al-kutub wa al-funûn ( ‘The discovery
o f opinions from the nam es o f books and sc ie n c e s’).3637A nd indeed, he had already in­
cluded a slightly m ore faithful adaptation o f Ibn K haldun’s stage theory in his con clud in g
remarks to Takvimii 't-tevarih, a w orld history com p iled in 1648. 37 There, too, Kâtip Ç e­
lebi remarks that the changes and phases seen in hum an civilisation s and so cieties ( nev-i
beçerden her simfin temeddiin ve ictimat halinde) correspond to those seen in individuals
according to their age, and that there are three stages in every state and so ciety (devlet ve
cem ’iyet), corresponding to the three ages o f man (grow th, standstill, and decline). A s the
‘natural’ life o f man extends to 120 years, so d oes the usual tim e span o f a so ciety ( her
taifenin miiddet-i ictimaî), although it can vary according to its strength or w eakness.
This com es again from Ibn Khaldun, w h o declares that38

in the opinion of physicians and astrologers, the natural life (span) of individuals is one hun­
dred and twenty years, that is, the period astrologers call the great lunar year. Within the same
generation, the duration of life differs according to the conjunctions... The same is the case
with the life (span) of dynasties. Their durations may differ according to the conjunctions.
However, as a rule no dynasty lasts beyond the life (span) of three generations. A generation is
identical with the average duration of the life of a single individual, namely, forty years, (the
time) required for growth to be completed and maturity reached.

35 Ayn-i Ali Efendi, Kavânîn-i Âl-i Osman der hülâsa-i mezâmin-i defter-i divan (repr. istanbul
1978), 119-140; modem Turkish translation in Orhan §aik Gokyay (ed. and tr.), Kâtib
Çelebi’den seçmeler (Istanbul 1968), 154-161. Cf, later on, “the present community of men,
which consists of the state”, insanin devletden ibaret olan ictimaî hali. Bernard Lewis ignores
these definitions, I think, when he states that by “human states” Kâtip Çelebi “clearly means
dynasties” [B. Lewis, The Political Language o f Islam (Chicago and London 1988), 24]; cf.
Sariyannis, ‘Ruler and State’, 92-93. On Ibn Khaldun’s formulation, see Rosenthal, Political
Thought in Medieval Islam, 87-90 and 229.
36 Kâtib Çelebi, Keyf-el-zunun, eds §. Yaltkaya and K. R. Bilge, 2 vols (n.l. [Istanbul] 1943),
1:278, 2:1124, and 1795; cf. Fmdikoglu, ‘Tiirkiyede ibn Haldunizm’, 157; Lewis, ‘Ibn Khal­
dun in Turkey’, 234.
37 Kâtip Çelebi, Takvimii’t-tevarih (Kostantiniye H.l 146/1733), 233-237; Turkish translation in
Gokyay (ed. and tr.), Kâtib Çelebi’den seçmeler, 114-117; cf. B. Yurtoglu, Kâtip Çelebi (An­
kara 2009), 22-24.
38 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:343-346; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqad-
dimah, 136-138.
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 261

The three ages described by Kâtip Ç elebi correspond to Ibn K haldun’s description o f
these three generations o f a dynasty.
M oreover, it is in Takvimii’t-tevarih that Kâtip Ç elebi introduces Ibn K haldun’s the­
ory on the fam ous ‘asabiyya, w hich has been variously rendered as ‘tribal solidarity’ or
‘esprit de corps’. In Kâtip Ç eleb i’s version, this interpretation is coup led w ith the like­
ning o f society to the hum an body: ju st like one n eeds o n e’s parents’ care w h ile still a
child, a state or a dynasty ( devlet ) is characterised in its early stages by its m em b ers’ “zeal
and mutual assistance” ( taassub ve taaviin-i rical). The sim ile continues in the other
tw o stages: ju st as self-govern ance co m es to a grow in g person, so a king lays d ow n just
law s and uses his treasury to govern his state. The finances, the army, the m ight, and the
population o f a state grow continually in its early period, the w ay a m an ’s lim bs grow till
his maturity. In the sam e vein , a mature so ciety co m es upon its m o st ju st rulers and more
generally its heyday in every respect. Finally, in the age o f d eclin e, ju st as an old body
gradually loses its temperature and hum idity ( hararet ve rutubet), and con sequ en tly its
pow ers and sen ses, so do statesm en ( viikelâ-yi devlet, a state’s temperature and hum id­
ity) lose their ability to think rightly and to take the proper m easures; consequently, the
people and the army (the pow ers and sen ses) start to g o astray. Furthermore, officials try­
ing to m end such problem s o f d eclin e in the sam e w ay they w ou ld do it in the standstill
or m iddle period are bound to fail, sin ce each period requires its ow n m easures. More
specifically, now , the sign s o f decline are: a tendency o f the m agnates to im itate their rul­
ers in w ealth and pageantry, and m ore generally a tendency to continually expand luxury
and pom p. T he m iddle class w ants to liv e like the king, and the m ilitary prefer ease and
peace rather than fighting. Kâtip Ç ele b i’s description is m uch less elaborate than that o f
Ibn Khaldun here, bein g rather a sum m ary o f the latter’s subsequent description o f the
five stages o f a dynasty; how ever, one m ay discern a clear reflection o f Ibn K haldun’s
‘asabiyya in the em phasis on “mutual assistan ce” as dom inating the early period o f a
dynasty.
O ne m ight also discern Ibn K haldunist influence in the rest o f this introduction, where
Kâtip Ç elebi tries to establish som e Taws o f history’: for instance, that a patricide has
never survived in pow er m ore than a year; that viziers or chieftains w h o op en ed a k ing’s
w ay to the throne have very often m et their death at the latter’s hands; or, that the sixth
king in every dynasty has lost his throne (w h ich in the Ottoman ca se w ou ld g iv e Murad
II’s abdication in favour o f his son, M ehm ed II). This is perhaps a unique instance o f an
Ottoman author co n ceiv in g a notion o f historical law s, and perhaps it w ould n ot be too
far-fetched to suppose that Kâtip Ç ele b i’s thought w as influenced by his great pred eces­
sor in his w ay o f thinking, as w ell as in his ideas proper.39

39 There are certain similarities between Ibn Khaldun’s and Kâtip Çelebi’s discussion of magic
and the occult, but to establish them would require a more detailed study. See Rosenthal (tr.),
The Muqaddimah, 3:156ff., 258ff.; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah, 391 f.,
405ff.; Kâtib Çelebi, Ke^f-el-zunun, 2:980-982 and 1930; Gokyay, Kâtip Çelebi'den seçmeler,
233-234. Cf. M. Asatrian, Tbn Khaldûn on Magic and the Occult’, Iran and the Caucasus, 1
262 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

K â tip Ç elebi s im m ediate con tin u a to rs

It seem s that Kâtip Ç elebi played a major role in the popularisation o f such ideas, as
w e can discern traces o f them in m any w orks that m ay b elon g to either his con tem po­
rary circle or to his late seventeenth-century continuators. A n alm ost sim ultaneous text
by an obscure author, the Nasihatname ( ‘book o f a d v ic e ’) com p osed probably by one
H em dem î in 1652, sh ow s som e sim ilarities.40 Ham m er-Purgstall identified the author as
Solakzade M ehm ed (d. 1657/8), a historian w h o also w rote p oem s under the pen-nam e o f
H em dem î, on the grounds that som e poem s fo llo w in g the V ienna m s. ( o f sim ilar content
and ob viously by the sam e hand) are signed by H em d em î.41 Little is know n o f Solakzade:
he w as an early recruit to the palace and w as a “constant com panion” to Murad IV, toget­
her w ith E vliya Çelebi; it seem s that he rem ained in the palace under the next tw o Sultans
as w ell. H e w as a m usician and com p oser o f note, but his main w ork is the history o f the
Ottoman dynasty up to 1643, m ainly a com pilation o f older chronicles. B oth Fliigel and
Sohrw eide are cautious and question this attribution; R hoads M urphey, author o f the sole
study so far o f the text, thinks it plausible (the com p letion o f the w ork corresponds to
the final com pilation o f S olakzade’s historical w ork and it cou ld be a “sp in -o ff product
o f a period o f intensely concentrated w ork”), but “far from b eing d efinitely established” .
N either Christine W oodhead nor A bdülkadir O zcan refer to the Nasihatname in their b io­
graphical entries on Solakzade.42 O verall, the w ork se em s to lack the concrete historical
references one w ould exp ect from a historian (apart from the usual locating o f the b egin­
ning o f d ecline in the year H. 1000, and som e m oralistic rather than historical anecdotes
on M ehm ed II, Selim I and Suleym an I).
There is no great originality in H e m d e m fs ( if w e are to accept at least this attribution)
treatise, w hich in m any w ays seem s like a com pendium o f late sixteenth and early-seven-
teenth century political advice. N everth eless, a recurring them e o f the w ork, the likening
o f the developm ent o f dynasties/states to the d eclin e o f the human body, m ight im ply

(2003), 73-123; M. Dois, Majnûn: The Madman in Medieval Islamic Society, ed. D. E. Im-
misch (Oxford 1992), 264-273.
40 This work remains unpublished. There are two manuscripts, Berlin, Preussischer Kulturbesitz
MS, Or. Oct. 1598, ff. 125b-172b (copied together with Defterdar San Mehmed Pasha’s trea­
tise), and Vienna, Osterreichische Nationalbibliothek Ms, N.F. 283, ff. lb-38b (see Murphey
2009b, 46-47, for some differences; Vienna MS is probably a copy, see, e.g., the lines mista­
kenly repeated in f. 9a.3-6 and various copying mistakes, such as the frequent substitution of
izafe with ve; on the other hand, a marginal note inserted in f. 24a seems to be an autograph). On
the manuscripts see G. Fliigel, Die arabischen, persischen und türkischen Handschriften der
K.-K. Hofbibliothek zu Wien (Vienna 1865-1867), 3:309-310; H. Sohrweide, Verzeichnis der
orientalischen Handschriften in Deutschland, Vol. XIII/3 (Wiesbaden 1974), 102. So far the
text has been studied only by R. Murphey, ‘Solakzade’s Treatise of 1652: A Glimpse at Opera­
tional Principles Guiding the Ottoman State During Times of Crisis’, in Behind Milletlerarasi
Tiirkiye Sosyal ve Iktisat Tarihi Kongresi Tebligleri, Vol. 1 (Ankara 1990), 27-32; repr. in idem,
Essays on Ottoman Historians and Historiography (Istanbul 2009), 43-48.
41 Vienna, Osterreichische Nationalbibliothek Ms, N.F. 283, f. 39a.
42 El2 and TDViA, respectively.
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 263

distant influences from Kâtip Ç elebi (the sam e g o es for the num erous references to “the
p eople constituting the realm ”, devlet ve saltanat müçtemil oldugu kavmi, w h ich m ay be
paralleled w ith Kâtip Ç ele b i’s definition o f devlet as “so c iety ”). The author u ses the same
sim ile o f so cieties and the hum an body, and argues that a state is like a patient: the young
ones have need o f different treatment from the older. A man is you n g itaze) till the age o f
seventeen (eigh teen in the Berlin M S ), a strong youngster (yigit) till forty, and o ld till his
death; sim ilarly, a state/dynasty is fresh w hen it appears, and its strength in creases gradu­
ally until it reaches the point where it can defend itse lf both against the surrounding en­
em ies and the ten sion s b etw een its m em bers. Then b egins the y o u n g stage, till the pomp
and luxury o f the ruler and his subordinates increases, as do exp en ses and salaries; this is
the beginning o f old age, ending w ith the collap se o f the state. H ow ever, in contrast with
hum an death, the author claim s that the collap se o f a state can be prevented, as G od has
granted his protection to m en, high and low. I f a Sultan loves G od, fo llo w s H is orders and
practises ju stice, the sam e w ill happen in the hearts o f “the tribe that m ake the state”, and
eventually even rain w ill m ake all b usiness flourish, and v ic e versa.43
Furthermore, H em d em î’s text contains another original statem ent w hich m ay im ply
an Ibn’ Khaldunist echo: at the beginning o f the treatise, w e read that the w orld ly occupa­
tions w ere organised into four groups, n am ely the farmers {ehl-i hiraset ), the craftsm en
{ehl-i zanaat), the m erchants {ehl-i ticaret), and the statesm en {ehl-i siyaset):44

Depending upon the state of [men’s] worldly order and arrangement (diinyevi nizam ve inti-
zam halleri), they constitute four groups (bôlük). One is the people of agriculture, that is to say
those who sow and harvest; another is the people of crafts, that is to say spinners, weavers,
cobblers, and builders; another group is the people of commerce, that is to say those who carry,
bring, and sell goods which are needed from one country to another; and another group is the
people of politics, that is to say the rulers and administrators who, with the practice of good
government, prevent the people from attacking one another’s family, honour, and property and
from killing each other according to their natural faculties of passion and lust. Thus they avo­
id the chaos which would bring the end of their rule (hilâfet ve emaretlerine) and prevent war
and slaughter.

This is an am algam ation o f the usual quadruple taxonom y o f so ciety (the ‘four pillars’
or riikn-i erbaa, i.e., m en o f the pen, o f the sword, o f com m erce, and o f agriculture)45 with
the categorisation o f “w ays to acquire property”, as w e m et w ith it in K m ahzade’s work
(com m erce, craftsm anship, agriculture, and leadership), and K m alizade, as w e saw , might
w ell have taken it from Ibn Khaldun. H em dem î, in his turn, cou ld w ell be co p y in g Kina-
lizade here rather than having used Ibn Khaldun; at any rate, the coincidence is striking.
A ccording to Ham mer-Purgstall (fo llo w ed by Babinger), the universal history o f Ha-
lilpaçazade Ebu Bekir, know n as Tab’î B eg , com p osed in c. 1665, w as m o d elled on Ibn
K haldun’s Muqaddima. H ow ever, this m ight be on ly a general im pression; at any rate,

43 Vienna MS, fols 1Oa- 11b; Berlin MS, fols 13 lb-133b.

44 Vienna MS, f. 2a; Berlin MS, fols 126b-127b.
45 See Sariyannis, ‘Ruler and State’, 100-102 and 107-109 on various forms of this categorisa­
tion.
264 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

Tab’i B eg m akes no m ention o f Ibn Khaldun or his ideas in his introduction.46 N everth e­
less, 20 or 25 years after H em d em î’s w ork w e m ay pause over Hezarfen H iiseyin Efendi
b. C afer’s ( 1600- 1678/ 79) w ork.47 Hezarfen w as a polym ath fo llo w in g in the footsteps o f
Kâtip Ç elebi (w hom he probably had met: the tw o m en w ere alm ost o f the sam e age, alt­
hough H ezarfen outlived Kâtip Ç elebi by alm ost 40 years), and, like him , used G reek and
Latin sources for his historical w ork w ith tw o dragom ans as interm ediaries. It is through
Kâtip Ç elebi, w hom he cop ied abundantly, that Ibn K haldunist ideas can occasion ally be
seen in his work as w ell. H is w ell-k n ow n treatise, Telhisü ’l-beyan f i kavanin-i Âl-i Os­
man ( ‘M em orandum on the rules o f the H ou se o f O sm an ’), com p leted in all probability
around 1675, sh ow s surprisingly little k n ow led ge o f Kâtip Ç eleb i’s innovative ideas, as
it is m ostly written in the vein o f early seventeenth-century ‘adm inistrative m anuals’.
O nly at one point can one discern a free adaptation o f Kâtip Ç ele b i’s analysis, and all
the m ore so, o f the Ibn K haldunist theory o f stages: H ezarfen notes that in this world
everybody has to fo llo w a certain w a y o f m aking o n e ’s living, and thus both p olities and
houses are w ell-govern ed . B ut this, i.e., that each person stays in h is proper p lace, is not
achievable in every period: the stages o f a state ( bir devletin asirlarma gore) all have dif­
ferent arrangements (daima nesk-i vahid üzere ola gelmemiçdir), for “this is the n ecessity
o f the natural stages o f civilisation and so ciety ” (mukteza-i etvar-i tabiat-i temeddün ve
ictima ).48 H ezarfen also cop ied Kâtip Ç ele b i’s con clu sion o f Takvimii t-tevarih in his ow n
universal history ( Tenkih-i tevarih-i mülûk ): w e w ill find there a verbatim rendering o f
the sim ile o f the tim e-span o f a so ciety and a m an ’s natural life, as w ell as o f the d iscu s­
sion o f the three ages o f states and their characteristics.49

46 Halilpajazâde Tab’î Ebu Bekir Beg Efendi, Tarih-i cem ', Vienna, Osterreichische Nationalbib-
liothek, Cod. H. O. 7 Han, fols 5b-6b. I wish to thank Professor Claudia Rorner and Dr. Andreas
Fingemagel, Director of the Manuscripts Collection of the Osterreichische Nationalbibliothek,
for their help. On the alleged ‘philosophical’ and ‘Ibn Khaldunist’ structure of the work, see J.
von Hammer-Purgstall, Geschichte des osmanischen Reiches, ed. H. Duda (1830; 2nd ed. Graz
1963), 9:183-184 (“Der Verfasser wollte nach dem Muster Ibn Chaldun’s minder Geschich­
te als Betrachtungen tiber die Resultate derselben liefem, doch hat er sein Musterbild keines-
wegs erreicht, indem es ihm durchaus an Klarheit, Ordnung und Tiefe des Urtheiles gebricht”);
F. Babinger, Die Geschichtschreiber der Osmanen und ihre Werke (Leipzig 1927), 212 (No.
183) (“dieses... geschichts-philosophische Werk hatte Ibn Chaldun’s beriihmte muqaddime
zum Vorbild, ohne dieses Muster irgendwie zu erreichen”); Fltigel, Die arabischen, persischen
und tiirkischen Handschriften, 2:102 (nr. 871) (“Der Verfasser gedachte nicht sowohl eine Ge­
schichte als vielmehr eine Philosophie derselben, wenn man so sagen darf, oder überhaupt ein
pragmatisches Geschichtswerk zu liefem, allein dazu fehlte es ihm nicht nur an umfassender
Kenntniss, sondem auch an Geschick”).
47 On Hezarfen see R. Anhegger, ‘Hezarfen Hiiseyin Efendi’nin Osmanli devlet teçkilâtina dair
mülâhazalan’, Tiirkiyat Mecmuasi, 10 (1951-1953), 365-393; H. Wurm, Der osmanische His-
toriker Hiiseyn b. Gafer, genannt Hezârfenn, und die Istanbuler Gesellschaft in der zweiten
Hàlfte des 17. Jahrhunderts (Freiburg im Breisgau 1971); introduction to Hiiseyin Hezarfen
Efendi, Telhisü 'l-beyân f i kavânîn-i Âl-i Osmân, ed. S. llgürel (Ankara 1998).
48 Hezarfen Efendi, Telhîsü’l-beyân, ed. llgürel, 142.
49 Hezarfen Hüseyin Efendi, Tenkihü ’t-tevarih, Istanbul, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Hekimoglu
732, fols 277b-279b.
 OTTOMAN 1BN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 265

N aim a an d the fu ll exposition o f stage theory

It is n o w a com m onplace that the fullest exp osition o f Ibn K haldun’s ideas is to be found
in N aim a’s historic w ork - not on ly the biohistorical theory o f stages (in its full form
now ), but also a fully-fledged exp osition o f the nom ads v. settled conflict w as translated
alm ost verbatim in the introduction to his Ravzatii ’l-Hiiseyn f i hulâsati ahbâri ’l-hâfikayn
( ‘H u seyin ’s garden, w ith a summary o f n ew s for East and W est’, com m on ly know n as
Tarih-i Naima), not to count occasion al references to Ibn K haldun’s v ie w s on econom y
or education at other points. Son o f the Janissary com m ander o f A leppo, N aim a, w e
should note, spoke Arabic fluently, and thus had direct access to Ibn K haldun’s original
work. H is noting o f it is enthusiastic:50

In Arabic, among the best of these later histories... [and] above all there is Ibn Khaldun the
Maghribi’s Arabic history ‘Unwân al- 'Ibr f i Dïwân al-Mutada ’wa ’l-Khabar, a book whose
preface alone is one entire volume. It is an incomparable treasure-trove, full of gems of learn­
ing and pearls of judgment. Its author - a marvellous man - has surpassed all historians. His
book is concerned with what took place in the Maghrib, but into his preface he introduced the
whole of his learning.

Indeed, the secon d part o f the first section in h is preface (com posed in the last one
or tw o years o f the seventeenth century) is based on Ibn K haldun’s Muqaddima.51 Since
in his classic analysis o f N a im a ’s prefaces L ew is Thom as so m eh o w n eglected these Ibn
K haldunist parts, I w ill attempt here a m ore detailed exp osition o f their content. N aim a
first describes the three ages o f state (according to Kâtip Ç eleb i’s m edical elaboration o f
Ibn K haldun’s anthropomorphic sim ile) and then sets about describing in detail the five
stages, fo llo w in g the Tunisian scholar clo sely .52 It is G od ’s w ill, he explains, that every
“state and com m unity” ( devlet ü cem ’iyef, and here again w e m ay notice Kâtip Ç eleb i’s
innovative idea o f focu sin g on the w h o le society, rather than the dynastic fa m ily or tribe)
passes through defined stages, to each o f w hich correspond different features o f society:

Let it be known that the divine custom and God’s will have ordained that the situation of every
state and community is always settled in a uniform manner; it does not stay perpetually on one
path, but instead moves through several periods [from one situation] to a renewed one. The fe­
atures of one period are different from another, and the necessities of one stage are contrary to
those of the preceding one. As for the children of the time [contemporary people], they are in
accord with the characteristics of the period they live in; men of each era are defined according
to the circumstances necessary for their era. For it is an innate feature, based on concealed [di­

50 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 1:5-6; ipçirli (ed.), Târih-i N a’îmâ, 1:4; L. V. Thomas, A Study o f Nai­
ma, ed. N. Itzkowitz (New York 1972), 112.
51 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 1:33-40; ipçirli (ed.), Târih-i N a’îmâ, 1:26-30; cf. Thomas, A Study o f
Naima, 77-78. The preface was composed after c. 1698, when Naima was commissioned to
write his work, clearly with a view to justifying the negotiations for peace at Karlowitz, which
ended in 1699.
52 Naima’s source is Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:353-355; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood
(ed.), The Muqaddimah, 141-142.
266 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

vine] ordinance, that one conforms and complies with the necessities o f the time, that the dis­
position o f the state follows the period, and that it respects the nature o f the creatures. Thus, the
different periods o f a state cannot usually excede the number o f five stages.

During the first stage, that o f “victory” (zafer vakti), the state struggles “to free itse lf
from the hands o f others and to obtain d om in ion ” (eyadi-i gayrdan intiza ve mülke istilâ
içiri). P eople are content w ith a sim p le w a y o f life, as the predom inant feature o f this
stage is asabiyyet, solidarity and zealou s cohesion; united, p eop le and army (kavm ve
asker) share all booty and nobod y w ish es to stand higher than the others. In the second
stage, that o f “independence” ( istiklâl), the victorious state con solidates itself; gradually
the ruler deals w ith his affairs independently o f his p eop le {kavm) and grants his fam ily
w ealth and power. M oreover, he co llects slaves and u ses them in administration; now,
tribal pow er ( kuwet-i açiret) and zeal, w h ich used to m ake the m em bers o f the tribe
unanim ous in the first stage, is on ly an “im aginary even t” {emr-i vehmî); on the other
hand, slaves and purchased or voluntary servants o f the ruler are “m etaphorically within
the notion o f solidarity” {mecazâ asabiyyet hiikmiinde dahit) and jo in in the benefits o f
the tribal structure. Thus, w h ile this com m on zeal is necessary in the appearance o f a
state, it cedes its place to a “p rivate tribe o f the ruler” ( kavm-i hass) as the dynasty leaves
nom adism behind and b eco m es settled. C onsequently, the early com panions o f the ruler
gradually lose their p ow er and also their con fidence in the dynasty. Here N aim a inserts
a su ggestion o f his ow n con cern in g the O ttom an case: the com panions and servants o f
the Sultan w ere o f various origins and thus differed from on e another in their custom s,
habits, clothing, and etiquette. T h is is w h y the Ottom an state did not perish in the second
stage because o f internal strife, as m ost dynasties do.
T he third stage is that o f p eace, prosperity, confidence, and security. P rom ising youths
find their w ay into the state apparatus, w h ile soldiers and servants g et paid in tim e and are
alw ays ready and w illin g to d efen d the country. T he rulers {ashab-i devlet) have no inter­
nal opponents, do not share their power, and m ake law s for the com m unity. N o w the state
is strong enough to dispense co m p letely w ith tribal solidarity {a§iret ii asabiyyet), w hich
w as necessary in its early stages. Solidarity b eco m es unnecessary, sin ce officials begin
to form dynasties for their offspring and thus the subjection and ob ed ien ce o f the latter
is beyond doubt. D uring the fourth stage, how ever, that o f saturation and tranquillity
{kanaat ü miisalemet), p eop le are content w ith im itating their ancestors’ deeds. M inisters,
m agnates, and officers have estab lish ed their p osition and com pete w ith each other; fur­
thermore, they start to co v e t w ealth and prefer it to truth, thus gradually sw ervin g away
from the concepts o f ju st governm ent. M oreover, the army begins to be rebellious and
undisciplined; consequently, the state has to send them on cam paigns to keep them calm,
thus paying a heavy burden both in m en and in w ealth. N a im a claim s that the Ottoman
Empire entered this stage in 1683, w ith the secon d sie g e o f Vienna, and su ggests an inter­
val o f peace in order to g iv e tim e to the state to reorganise itself.53 Finally, the fifth stage
is that o f prodigality, e x c e ssiv e expenditure, and eventual destruction. D uring this stage,

53 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 1:59; Ipçirli (ed.), Târih-i Na’îmâ, 1:44.

 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 267

people only care for luxury and ease; “strange cu stom s” are introduced, rulers spend
their w ealth in pom p and pageantry, n eglectin g the protection o f the p eople and care for
the army. E xpenses are such that cannot be m et even w ith extra-ordinary taxes; the state
im poses obligatory loans on w ealth y peop le, practising, in fact, confiscation ( müsadere);
w ealthy p eop le think o f g oin g to M ecca or to Egypt to acquire properties again, but even
there they are not safe from their rulers’ greed. This is the final stage, and the state is ripe
for being overpow ered by a n ew dynasty (although N aim a claim s that even in this stage
the process can be reversed, provided cam paigns com e to a halt first).
A fter an excursus on the “circle o f ju stic e” (again attributed to Ibn Khaldun, as w e
saw ), N aim a m oves on to m ore sp ecific observations on human societies, and here again
he sum m arises or cop ies Ibn K haldun’s theory on nom adism . In this part, nom adism ,
as opposed to settled civilization (buduv ü hazar), is exam ined as a factor w h ich influ­
en ces the route o f history. B ecau se savage p eop les ( ümem-i vahçiyye) do not k now the
hindrances o f ease and com fort, he says, they are stronger than other p eoples and subdue
them easily. H ow ever, i f they settle dow n and fam iliarise th em selves w ith the pleasures
o f tow n life, they gradually lo se both their savagery and their courage, ju st as w ild beasts
are film ed to dom esticated anim als. E very n ew generation gets used to m ore and more
luxury and seek s m ore and m ore com fort and ease; m en tend to n eglect war and to entrust
their protection and safety to kings, leaving war to salaried soldiers. Thus th ey gradually
lose their courageous nature, as they are im m ersed in the com forts o f settled life (refli-i
hazâret).54
Then N a im a sets out to sh ow h ow tyrannical and harsh m inisters ( iimera) w eaken
conquering pow er and the ability o f a state to w a g e war.55 For the needs o f their repro­
duction, m en have the natural ten dency to dom inate others (reis bi ’t-tab olup)\ w hereas,
w henever they are overw helm ed by the pow er and dom inion o f others and ob liged to
subm it and obey, their sensual ardour w anes and they b ecom e sluggish. N a im a illustrates
this point w ith a story featuring S a’d ibn A b ï Waqqâs, one o f the com panions o f the
Prophet, con fiscating the b ooty a valiant soldier had gathered w ithout his consent; Caliph
IJmar gave it back, sayin g that this w ou ld harm his ardour and zeal. A ll this (including
the anecdote) com es from an Ibn Khaldunian chapter on the destruction o f sedentary
peoples by their reliance on law s;56 but to further illustrate this suggestion , N a im a again
cop ies Ibn Khaldun on education: this is why, he says, the zeal o f servants and children is
w eakened w hen they are intim idated w ith h eavy punishm ent, or w h y e x c e ssiv e harshness
in education m akes fragile characters.57 Thus, the u se o f intim idating and v io le n t meth-

54 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 1:44-46; îpçirli (ed.), Târih-i Na’îmâ, 1:33-34. Cf. Rosenthal (tr.), The
Muqaddimah, 1:249-250, 257-258; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah, 91, 94-
95.
55 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 1:46-49; ipçirli (ed.), Târih-i N a’îmâ, 1:34-37.
56 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:258-259; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqad­
dimah, 95-7.
57 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 3:305 (=Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah,
424-25): “Severe punishment in the course of instruction does harm to the student, especially
to little children, because it belongs among (the things that make for a) bad habit. Students,
268 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

ods in p olitics has not been deem ed right, esp ecia lly during the fourth and fifth stages
o f a state, toward the end o f the standstill period; w hen k ings and ju d g es investigate
too thoroughly p eo p le’s lives and im pose severe punishm ents for m inor m isdem eanours,
people feel hum iliated, b ecom e avaricious, start to lie and d eceiv e, and so forth. Instead,
m inisters ( vülât ) should persuade rather than im pose, so as to enhance solidarity and
union am ong the p eople. It has to be noted, observes N aim a, that this capability o f g en tle­
n ess and suavity is m et m ostly am ong silly and stupid p eop le, w h ile on ly rarely is it seen
am ong m en o f a strong intellect, but acute intellect d oes not necessarily characterise vir­
tuous m en, and therefore an e x c e ss o f sm artness and reasoning can be a cause o f sham e
for statesm en ( hükkâm-i sahib-i siyaset ), as p eop le call shrewd politicians ‘Satans’ and
dem onic. Som e think that as far as the faculty o f thought ( kuw et-ifikriyye ) is concerned,
its m oderation m ust be desirable, and ex c ess (or lack) o f it criticised, ju st as w ith the
other virtues. N aim a argues that the e x c e ssiv e presen ce o f this faculty, i.e., shrew dness, is
not considered blam eworthy; but in public affairs and in social intercourse it is not proper
to exhaust and w eaken p eop le by investigating their slightest m ovem ents: as Plato has
said (in A rabic), “th ose w h o search the sin s p eople hide lo se the lo v e o f their hearts” .58
N ext, N aim a expands his thoughts on som e o f the ruling cla sses in the ligh t o f the
stage theory: a short chapter on “m en o f the sw ord and o f the p en ”59 stresses that at the
beginning o f a dynasty or state, the need for the sw ord is greater, w h ile the pen on ly
serves the execution o f the k in g ’s orders. Sim ilarly, in the last stages o f a state, there is
again a great need for the sw ord, overpow ering that for the pen. H ow ever, in the m iddle
stages, the dynasty, n o w at the zenith o f its power, has to rely on the m en o f the pen rather
than the army in order to control its incom e and exp en ses and to execu te its d ecisions:

The sword and the pen are most important for rulership and necessary instruments for the fo­
undation of a state. In the beginnings of a dynasty there is more need for the sword, in order to
secure the fillfilling of its purposes and the application of its orders. In this period, the pen ser­
ves the execution of the ruler’s orders. As for the sword, it is appointed to assist the attainment
of his aims and the acquisition of his demands. Moreover, during the aforementioned period of
weakness and decline of power, which happen in the late days of a dynasty, imploring assistan-

slaves, and servants who are brought up with injustice and (tyrannical) force are overcome by
it. It makes them feel oppressed and causes them to lose their energy. It makes them lazy and
induces them to lie and be insincere”.
58 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:383-385 (=Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqad-
dimah, 153-154): “Good rulership is equivalent to mildness. If the ruler uses force and is ready
to mete out punishment and eager to expose the faults of people and to count their sins, (his
subjects) become fearful and depressed... It should be known that an alert and very shrewd
person rarely has the habit of mildness. Mildness is usually found in careless and unconcerned
persons... Cleverness and shrewdness imply that a person thinks too much, just as stupidity
implies that he is too rigid. In the case of all human qualities, the extremes are reprehensible,
and the middle road is praiseworthy... For this reason, the very clever person is said to have
the qualities of devils. He is called a ‘Satan’ or ‘a would-be Satan’ and the like.”
59 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 1:49-52; ipçirli (ed.), Târih-i Na ’îmâ, 1:37-39; cf. Thomas, A Study o f
Naima, 79-80.
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 269

ce from the men of the sword and being in need of them is certain; in these two stages the su­
periority of the sword over the pen is manifest... But in the middle of a dynasty and during the
period of its full power, the stabilisation of affairs makes it able, up to a point, to do without the
sword. On the contrary, it is established that there is need for the use of the pen, for tasks such
as the collection of benefits and revenues, the gathering of taxes, the control of the budget, or
the execution of orders. Thus, in this period the power of the pen is elevated and the men of the
pen are more esteemed than the men of the sword.

Up to this point, N aim a is again co p y in g Ibn Khaldun;60 then he adds so m e thoughts

o f his ow n. In this period, kings and viziers respect and care for both the ulem a and the
scribes; they, in their turn, protect the k ingly order and the honour o f the state, taking part
in every important cou n cil and m eeting. Even ex c ess o f respect for this cla ss cannot be
detrimental for the state; on ly rarely do m en o f the pen transgress their lim its. T hey usu­
ally are m oderate in their m anners, build h ouses appropriate to their ranks, and in general
only benefit the state. M en o f the sw ord, on the other hand, w h ile offering their lives and
souls for the war against the en em ies o f the state, tend to be dependent on the m onies
and gifts given to them by the dynasty; esp ecia lly w hen these rem unerations becom e
ex cessiv e, soldiers get used to a com fortable life. Their exp en ses grow m ore and more
and they w ish to im itate their superiors in luxury, w ith the result that they often end up in
debt and poverty. On the other hand, i f the state increases their salaries in order to match
their exp en ses, its budget b ecom es h ea v ily burdened, and, consequently, the peasants, as
a source o f the state in com e, are im poverished. Thus, the m en o f the pen and th ose o f the
sw ord should be kept in equilibrium , w ith a careful d ispensing o f gifts and remunerations
to those worthy.
Later on in the preface, N a im a observes again that in the fourth and secon d stages
o f a state’s life, luxury and respect for the king has replaced the solidarity and nomad­
ism o f the previous stages. H e warns that administrators (mülûk ü hükkâm) should act
independently o f p eo p le ’s sayin gs and opinions; an ex c ess o f friendliness is against the
rules o f g o o d manners ( kanun-i edeb) and harms m ajesty and m odesty. Thus, they have
to act “behind the curtain o f im portance and o f pow er”, so that p eople w ill aw ait their
decision s w ith aw e. To this effect, N a im a quotes Ibn Khaldun again (this tim e precisely
sp ecifyin g him by nam e); by nature, m an seek s perfection, and so people tend to imitate
great m en w h o se intellectual p erfectness they ack n ow led ge, not on ly in their behaviour
and v iew s, but also in their attire and headgear (actually, this is Ibn K haldun’s chapter on
the vanquished seek in g to im itate the victor!).61 C onsequently (from here on N aim a sets
out his ow n thoughts), a w ise administrator w ill first seek to inspire law -abidingness and
respect am ong the p eop le, so that afterwards they w ill fo llo w him w holeheartedly in his
d ecision s. So, the reduction o f luxury and pom p m ust be gradual and careful, and should
be carried out according to rank and w ith m oderation. Pom p can be tolerated in state of­

60 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 2:46-47; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah,
213.
61 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:299-300; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqad­
dimah, 116.
270 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

ficials ( erkân-i devlet), but not in those w h o on ly w ish to satisfy their carnal w him s with
their private w ealth, because luxury should mark the distinction betw een the soldiers and
the servants o f the state, on the on e hand, and the sim p le com m oners, on the other. For
the sam e reason, high o ffices such as that o f a v izier should be giv en sparingly, lest they
lose their valu e.62
T he ease w ith w hich N a im a u ses ideas and sections from all over Ibn K haldun’s
Muqaddima can b e seen i f w e put all these parts together: in Franz R osenthal’s m onu­
m ental three-volum e translation, he co p ies in turn parts from pages 3 5 3 -3 5 5 , 2 4 9 and
2 5 7 -2 5 9 o f the first volu m e, then jum ps to page 3 0 4 o f the third volu m e, then back to
p ages 3 8 3 -3 8 4 o f the first, 4 6 -4 7 o f the second, and back again to page 2 9 9 o f the first;
that is to say, he m oves freely to and fro in a w ay that sh ow s h is deep k n ow ledge o f
Ibn K haldun’s work. N a im a ’s self-con fid en ce is evident in another p iece o f econom ical-
cum-political thought in h is work: after the description o f Derviç M ehm ed Pasha’s death
(1 6 5 5 ) and o f the huge w ealth he had am assed by various entrepreneurial activities,63
N aim a quotes the Pasha as sayin g that the natural w ays o f m aking a livin g are three
(agriculture, com m erce, or leadership, i.e., in com e co m in g from the ruler), w h ile others
have also added craftsm anship.64

The following remarks are derived from ancient philosophers; some wise men are reported to
have attributed them to Dervi? Pa?a. There are three means of gaining wealth: agriculture, com­
merce, and political authority. Crafts have also been considered by some as a fourth means;
nevertheless, it would be proper to limit the means of wealth to the three mentioned above
since most artisans are unable to provide for their living, since they keep of the produce of their
crafts barely enough to subsist on, while most of the fruit of the labour falls to the rich mer­
chants of that particular commodity. It has traditionally been the case that agriculture and trade
have been the more profitable [to an individual] in direct proportion to [his] power and position
in society. This is so because people serve a person of power and high position, work for his
gain both with their labour and with their funds, without asking for immediate remuneration,
hoping to become closer to him and expecting future benefits. Some others fear his power and
oppression and therefore give up an expected share of their profits, or they too may work for
him. Thus, in either of these two ways, the payment for the people’s services and one-fourth of
their labour being due to the person of position, he should amass a huge fortune in a short time.

T his form ulation (w e m ay d ecide to attribute it to the Pasha or to N aim a h im self)

departs from Ibn K haldun’s sim ilar exp ression o f h is v iew , repeated b y K m ahzade, as w e

62 Naima, Tarih-iNaima, 1:54-56; îpçirli (ed.), Târih-iNa’îmâ, 1:40-41.

63 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 6:26-28; îpçirli (ed.), Târih-i N a’îmâ, 4:1571-1572. Cf. Kunt, ‘Dcrviç
Mehmed Paça, Vezir and Entrepreneur’; Suraiya Faroqhi, ‘Part II: Crisis and change, 1590-
1699’, in H. înalcik with D. Quataert (eds), An Economic and Social History o f the Ottoman
Empire, 1300-1914 (Cambridge 1994), 411-636 at 547-549. On Ibn Khaldun’s formulation see
Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 2:315ff.; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah,
299-300.
64 Here I use the translation by Metin Kunt (Kunt, ‘Derviç Mehmed Pa$a, Vezir and Entrepre­
neur’, 205-206).
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 271

saw above:65 N aim a (or the Pasha) accepts leadership as a natural source o f revenue, but
m aintains that in fact craftsm anship can be reduced to com m erce, as the in com e o f most
craftsm en barely suffices for their livin g and therefore they have no consequent revenue.
N aim a seem s reluctant to adopt this p erspective and hastens to note that som e moralist
treatises consider com m erce and agriculture totally prohibited for administrators. A t any
rate, what interests us here is the w ay he u ses and alters Ibn K haldun’s form ulation in a
quite free and self-confident way.
Finally, it is interesting to note that, w hereas N a im a b egin s his preface w ith a short
essay on history, w here he lays out his rules for the historian, he totally ignores Ibn
K haldun’s sim ilar essay in the b egin ning o f the Muqaddima.66Thus, the Tunisian scholar
warns against prejudice and partisanship, (imprudent) reliance upon transmitters ( o f an
event), unaw areness o f the purpose o f an event, unfounded assum ptions, ignorance o f the
real dim ensions o f an event, em b ellishm ent o f high-ranking persons, and, finally, igno­
rance o f the law s o f civilisation ; he urges the historian to study th ese law s so that he may
distinguish p ossib le from im possible events. N aim a, how ever, fo llo w s his p red ecessor’s
exam ple in g ivin g his ow n, different, rules: as sum m arised by L ew is Thom as, th ese rules
urge the historian to “(1) tell the truth and substantiate it; (2) disregard the false tales cur­
rent am ong the com m on folk; (3 ) not content h im se lf w ith ‘sim p le annals’ but enable the
reader to draw the m oral for him self; (4 ) not be a partisan, regardless o f h is o w n view s;
(5) use plain language and not sacrifice clarity to literary affectation; (6) lim it h im self
strictly to appropriate em bellishm ents (verses, quotations, etc.); (7 ) discu ss astrology
only w hen he can prove that astrological causes had certain established results” .67 The
third point is o f particular interest, as it co n v ey s a sen se o f Ibn Khaldunism although it
belongs to N a im a ’s original thoughts (here in T h om as’s translation):

Whatever the sphere of human life to which the question of which an historian is treating be­
longs, he should not be content simply to tell the story but should also incorporate useful infor­
mation directly into his narrative. It is of no great consequence merely to recount campaigns
and seasons of repose from campaigning, arrivals and departures, appointments to office and
removals from office, and peace and war. Rather, historians ought first to inform themselves,
from those who have proper information concerning the question in hand, of what was the di­
vinely ordained condition of any age in history; of how, in a given century, the affairs of men
were going forward, and in what direction; of what ideas and counsels were predominating in
problems of administration and finance - in short, historians must first ascertain what it was
that men thought and what it was over which they disagreed, what it was they believed to be
the best course in the conduct of war and in making terms with the foe, what were the causes
and the weaknesses which were then bringing triumph or entailing destruction. Then, after an

65 See the detailed analysis in Kunt, ‘Derviç Mehmed Pa§a, Vezir and Entrepreneur’, 206-211,
and cf. F. Ermiç, A History o f Ottoman Economic Thought. Developments Before the Nine­
teenth Century (London and New York 2014), 97-102.
66 Naima, Tarih-i Naima, 1:4-8; îpçirli (ed.), Târih-i Na'îmâ, 1:3-5; Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqa-
ddimah, 1:15ff. and esp. 7Iff.; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The Muqaddimah, llffi, 35ff.
Naima’s piece is translated by Thomas, A Study o f Naima, 110-115.
67 Thomas, A Study o f Naima, 116.
272 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

historian has ascertained all these things, he should present his findings on the basis of their re­
liability. When this has been accomplished, later readers will be able to avail themselves of the
different benefits of experience’s teachings. But simple annals, devoid of these useful features,
are in no way different from so many Hamza-names.

I l l T h e E ig h t e e n t h C e n t u r y :
F r o m S t a g e T h e o r y t o t h e G l o r if ic a t io n o f N o m a d is m

Thus, N aim a not on ly set out Ibn K haldun’s full theory o f stages, he also introduced his
distinction betw een the n om adic and the settled w ay o f life, together w ith the em phasis
on tribal solidarity and its role in the rise o f em pires. A nd as far as w e know, it w ould take
another 50 years for these ideas to fu lly perm eate O ttom an p olitical literature. Fm dikoglu
and L ew is note that alm ost sim ultaneously the introduction on history and historiogra­
phy in the universal history com p osed by M üneccim baçi A hm ed b. Lutfullah (d. 1702),
N aim a’s contemporary, fo llo w s alm ost verbatim Ibn K haldun’s Muqaddima,68 H ow ever,
M üneccim baçi’s introduction d oes not seem to have any relation w ith Ibn Khaldun: his
exposition on the p rofession o f historian has som e points in com m on w ith Ibn K haldun’s,
such as the need to avoid flattering high-ranking persons or relyin g to unreliable w itn es­
ses, but he cites Taj al-D in ibn Taqi al-D in al-Subki (d. 1370) and his fam ous biographi­
cal w ork Tabaqât-i Kubrâ (Tabaqât al-Shâfi ‘iyya al-kubra). O verall, M ün eccim basi’s
introduction has m ore in com m on w ith N a im a ’s sim ilar section and certainly no relation
w ith Ibn K haldun’s.69 A t any rate, it w ou ld take som e decad es till these theories found a
constant place in O ttom an p olitical thought. In Ibrahim M üteferrika’s w ork, for instance,
w hich is innovative in m any other w ays, including a fam ous, yet isolated, introduction
o f the A ristotelian distinction b etw een governm ents (actually co p y in g a w ork by Kâtip
Ç elebi),70 there is no trace o f such ideas.
N evertheless, k n ow led ge o f Ibn K haldun’s w ork b ecam e m ore and m ore com m on
in the circles o f the Ottoman literati. First o f all, the Muqaddima began to be cop ied in
Istanbul (there w ere earlier co p ies in the Arab lands, as, for instance, in Jidda). The first
dated O ttom an cop y o f the Muqaddima (exclud in g th o se cop ied in the Arab lands) bears
the date 1706/7 and its co m m ission er w as a certain A bulhayr A hm ed;71 another w as copi-

68 Ziya (Ülken) - Fahri (Fmdikoglu), ibni Haldun, 38-39; Fmdikoglu, ‘Türkiyede ibn Haldu-
nizm’, 158-159; Lewis, ‘Ibn Khaldun in Turkey’, 235. Müneccimbaçi’s history was written in
Arabic, but it was translated into Ottoman Turkish by the poet Nedîm; on his use of Western
sources cf. B. Lewis, ‘The Use by Muslim Historians of Non-Muslim Sources’, in B. Lewis
and R M. Holt (eds), Historians o f the Middle East (London 1962), 180-191.
69 Müneccimbaçi Ahmed, Sahaifii ’l-ahbar, 3 vols (Istanbul H.1285/1868), 1:32-34. On Subki see
El2, s.v. ‘Subkî.9’ (J. Schacht-[C. E. Bosworth]).
70 A. Çen (ed.), ibrahim Müteferrika ve Usûlü’l-Hikem f î Nizâmi’l-Ümem (Ankara 1995). On the
use of Kâtip Çelebi’s works by Müteferrika see the detailed analysis in Yurtoglu, Kâtip Çelebi,
37ff. and esp. 72-78 on copying îrçâdü’l-hayârâ, with the distinction of government into mo­
narchy, aristocracy, and democracy [B. Yurtoglu (ed.), Katip Çelebi'nin Yunan, Roma ve Hris-
tiyan tarihi hakkmdaki risalesi (Ankara 2012)] .
71 MS Hekimoglu Ali Paça 805. Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:xcviii.
 OTTOMAN [BN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 273

ed in 1715 by M ehm ed M üezzinzade for Dam ad A li Pasha (d. 1 7 16).72 Finally, betw een
1725 and 1730, the §eyhiilislam Pirizade M ehm ed Sahib Efendi (d. 1749) m ade the first
translation o f Ibn K haldun’s introduction (actually, o f a large part o f it, as he left untrans­
lated the large part on human k n ow ledge) into O ttom an Turkish.73 P irizade’s translation
m ust be seen in the context o f the organised translation efforts initiated by N evsehirli Ib­
rahim Pasha, the Grand V izier o f the ‘A g e o f the T u lip s’, even i f his initiative w as strictly
personal (at any rate it w as not printed till 1858, unlike other translations w h ich found
their w ay to Ibrahim M iiteferrika’s p rinting-house).74 It is interesting to study P irizade’s
additions and marginal notes to Ibn K haldun’s text: for instance, h e disagrees w ith Ibn
Khaldun that the M uslim w orld m ay have tw o leaders (caliph s) becau se o f geographical
distances; he also has a few corrections to m ake on geographical issues, som eth in g that
has to do w ith the remarkable developm en t o f geography fo llo w in g Kâtip Ç ele b i’s efforts
(although the printed version o f the latter’s Cihânnümâ, w ith additions from Ebu Bekr
a l-D im isk i’s w ork and supplem entary m aps by Ibrahim Müteferrika, w as to be published
in 1732, tw o years after the com pletion o f P irizad e’s translation). Pirizade also com m ents
on Ibn K haldun’s considering the tim e-span o f 120 years as obligatory for all dynasties,
stressing the exceptionality o f the O ttom an dynasty:75

With God’s assistance and with the helpful bountifulness of God the omnipotent, the eternal
Exalted State of the Ottomans - praised be its pillars (erkâri)\ —lasts for almost five hundred
years, thanks to the divine favours, and rules in its spacious territories and its roads of distant
regions, which are situated in the four cardinal directions of the inhabited world, enforcing the
Holy Law and the principles of the monotheistic religion.

H ow ever, it seem s that N a im a ’s form ulation continued to be u sed as the m ain source
o f Ibn K haldun’s theories, rather than P irizade’s translation. H avin g studied a num ber o f
probate inventories o f the m id eighteenth century, H enning Sievert notes that w h ile more
than 60 cop ies o f Ibn K haldun’s history (alm ost h a lf o f them in Pirizade’s translation)
are preserved in Istanbul alone, it is alm ost n on-existent in probate inventories o f the
Ottom an elite, in contrast w ith N a im a ’s history.76 Indeed, those w h o repeated the stage
theory during the eighteenth century did not n eg lect to stress the sim ilitude o f states to
the human body and its decay; this sim ile, as w e saw, is not to be found in Ibn K haldun’s
original work, as it w as introduced by Kâtip Ç elebi and then incorporated by N a im a into
his ow n form ulation o f the theory.

72 MS. Nuruosmaniye 3424. Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, hxcvii. Rosenthal also dates to
the same period MS. Nuruosmaniye 3423: ibid., Uxcviii.
73 Pîrîzâde Mehmed Sâhib, Ibn Haldun: Mukaddime osmanli tercümesi, eds Y. Yildinm, S. Er-
dem, H. Ôzkan and M. C. Kaya, 3 vols (Istanbul 2008).
74 See Yildinm, ‘Mukaddime’nin Türkçe tercümesi’.
75 Yildinm, ‘Mukaddime’nin Türkçe tercümesi’, 24-25, 27-30; Pîrîzâde, Mukaddime osmanli ter­
cümesi, XXX-XXXV and 1:93 (on geography), 1:334 (on the life span of the Ottoman state),
or 2:66 (on the caliphate).
76 H. Sievert, ‘Eavesdropping on the Pasha’s Salon: Usual and Unusual Readings of an Eigh­
teenth-Century Ottoman Bureaucrat’, OA, 41 (2013), 159-195 at 179-180.
274 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

Thus, in the relatively unknow n treatise Nuhbetii ’l-emel f i tenkihi ’l-fesadi ve ’l-halel
( ‘S elected w ish es for the em endation o f m isc h ie f and disorder’), co m p o sed in early 1774
by Dürrî M ehm ed Efendi (d. 17 9 4 ),77 w e find a peculiar com bination o f the ‘three a g es’
theory w ith the m ore elaborate ‘fiv e sta g es’. Dürrî states that it is a n ecessity o f the
divine w isd om that, ju st as the hum an individual (efrad-i nev ’-i be$er) has three ages,
that o f growth, o f standstill, and o f p hysical decline (nümüv; vukuf inhitat), so do states
(.devletler ) as w ell. The Ottoman state has reached the age o f standstill, w hich in the indi­
vidual corresponds to the age from 33 to 45 and w hich is the age o f splendour. The Otto­
man state began in H .7 0 0 (1 3 0 0 /1 ) and p assed through the “three a g es” (kurun-i selâse)
in H .950 (1 5 4 3 /4 4 ), 9 8 0 (1 5 7 2 /3 ) and 1000 (1 5 9 1 /2 ); these ages constitute the “tim es
o f the soldiers” (284b: ricalinin evkati), and, bein g the “age o f grow th” (sene-i nümüv),
w ere full o f wars and victories. Afterwards, how ever, co m es the “age o f standstill” (sene-
i vukuf), w hen p eop le w ish for peace and w elfare (asayi§ ve refah) rather than war and
glory. T his explains w h y from then on, Ottoman wars ended both in victories and defeats.
A decade later, S uleym an Penah E fendi (1 7 4 0 -1 7 8 5 ) w rote an account o f the 1769-
1770 revolt in the P elop on n ese and included a long, detailed, and h igh ly original discu s­
sion o f the state o f the Em pire and o f the m easures to be taken. In various chapters one
can discern his Ibn K haldunist influences: in the begin nings o f a state or dynasty, he says,
the soldiers ob ey to it and display solidarity and unanim ity in their plundering o f the en­
em y and dividing the shares o f the conquered land; officials and statesm en tend to ignore
their failures. This is a feature o f the said period, how ever; w hen the state proceeds to the
stage o f consolidation ( kemal ve kudret peyda itdikde) the soldiers begin to pursue their
ease, com fort, and luxury; m oreover, the inhabitants o f the various tow n s and villages
d evelop their ow n various m anners and character {her biri bir tavir ve meçreb peyda
ider), w ith the result that their control b ecom es difficult. W hen sagacious counsellors
perceive that thus the state is g o in g to be d issolved , they divid e the population under
their dom inion (zir-i hükmünde olan nüfus) into som e cla sses or groups {sinif) that have
to obey certain rules. Penah E fen d i’s source is probably not directly Ibn Khaldun but
rather N aim a, and Penah Efendi quotes the latter on the three ages o f the state and the
sim ilarities to the hum an body (ultim ately taken from Kâtip Ç elebi). H e n otes, how ever,
that unlike hum an b ein gs, states that ob ey their law s and adjust th em selv es to the changes
that occur in the w orld {dünya tarz-i ahar oldukça esbabiyle hâkimane hareket olunsa)
m ay avoid decline and fall.78
A rare exam ple o f probable direct u se o f Ibn K haldun, presum ably from P irizade’s
translation, w as noticed by Bernard L ew is in A hm ed R esm î E fen d i’s (1 7 0 0 -1 7 8 3 ) d is­

77 Istanbul, Topkapi Sarayi Kütüphanesi, E.H. 1438, fols 281b-296a; the relevant part is in f.
283b-284b. K. Atik, ‘Kayserili devlet adami Dürri Mehmed Efendi ve layihasi’, in A. Aktan
and A. Ôztürk (eds), II. Kayseri ve yôresi tarih sempozyumu bildirileri (16-17 Nisan 1998)
(Kayseri 1998), 69-74, gives a detailed synopsis of the text. I wish to thank Ethan L. Menchin-
ger who made this text known and available to me.
78 A. Berker, ‘Mora ihtilâli tarihçesi veya Penah Efendi mecmuasi, 1769’, Tarih Vesikalari, 2
(1942-1943), 63-80, 153-160, 228-240, 309-320, 385-400, 473-480, at 157-159.
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 275

cussion o f the rise o f Prussia (w here he had been sent as the first Ottoman am bassador
in 1763):79

In the words of Ibn Khaldun, the complete victory of a newly created state over an old estab­
lished state depends on the length of time and the recurring sequence of events.

A s far as I can tell, there is no such quotation in N aim a; on the other hand, it m ay have
originated from m any parts o f Ibn K haldun’s w ork.80

Nom adism a n d war

H ow ever, in the story o f eighteenth-century O ttom an Ibn K haldunism , the ca se o f Dürrî
or o f Penah Efendi is m ore o f a deviation: m ost eighteenth or early nineteenth-century
authors em phasise the valu e o f nom adic life rather than the stage theory. E ven Dürrî,
w ho otherw ise restricts h im se lf to sketch in g a som ew h at peculiar theory o f stages, uses
the d istinctively Ibn Khaldunist term hazar ( ‘settled life ’) to describe the period o f peace
w hich he advocates.
T he influence is clearer and perhaps m ore important in an anonym ous short essay
on the European balance o f pow ers, Avrupa ’ya mensub olan mizan-i umur-i hariciyye
beyamndadir ( ‘On the balance o f foreign affairs relating to Europe’), w hich m ust alm ost
certainly be attributed to A hm ed R esm î Efendi (w h om w e saw above nam ing and using
Ibn Khaldun). T he author o f this essay, w hich w as com p leted in 1774, ju st after the
R ussian-O ttom an war, treats the O ttom an Em pire as ju st another state in an international
com m unity, and, in order to argue for the n ecessity o f peace, u ses Ibn K haldun’s author­
ity on nom adism and its d ecline:81

According to Ibn Khaldun’s Mukaddima, we must obey the necessities of time and situation:
because of the long and uninterrupted continuation of settled life (temadi-i hazar), we forgot
the arts of war and consequently we have not had any single victory for five years now.

Here w e have the notion o f nom adism , w hereas Ibn K haldun’s stage theory is absent.
In the sam e vein, A zm î E fendi, the O ttom an am bassador in B erlin, described in 1790
w hat he saw as the love o f com fort p revailing am ong Europeans (as R esm î E fendi had
also done) and attributes it to “the lo ss o f virility” associated w ith d ecline, quoting e x ­

79 Lewis, Tbn Khaldün in Turkey’, 235, quoting Resmî, Viyana sefaretnâmesi (Istanbul
H. 1304/1886), 33. A classic study of Ahmed Resmî is V. Aksan, An Ottoman Statesman in War
and Peace: Ahmed Resmi Efendi, 1700-1783 (Leiden 1995).
80 Rosenthal (tr.), The Muqaddimah, 1:299-300, 2:130ff.; Rosenthal (tr.) - Dawood (ed.), The
Muqaddimah, 116, 253-255.
81 F. Ye§il (ed.), Bir Osmanli gôzüyle Avrupa siyasetinde güç oyunu: Avrupa’y a mensûb olan
mîzân-i umûr-x hâriciyye beyâmndadir (Istanbul 2012), 11. On the authorship of the treatise
see ibid., 1 fn. 4; cf. V. Aksan, ‘Ottoman Political Writing, 1768-1808’, IJMES, 25 (1993), 53-
69, 59-60.
276 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

p licitly Ibn Khaldun.82 The stage theory is still present, but the em phasis has shifted to
the ‘settled ’ features o f decline. Sim ilarly, on ly few years later w e encounter the sam e
distinction betw een nom adism and settled life in som e o f the m em oranda ( lâyiha ) sub­
m itted to Selim III in 1792. T he then defterdar § e r if Efendi writes that what is needed is
continuous training and exercise, and the basis o f this precept is the distinction betw een
nom adism and settled life: i f sold iers are left to settle dow n, their m ilitary skill w ill fade
aw ay:83

Since frugality and temperance are harmful in time of campaign, I understood that once a cam­
paign begins it is difficult to stop it before it attains its aims; like the Cretan campaign, it can­
not be abandoned without reaching victory. Because when the army gets used to nomadism
(bedeviyyete aliçtikça), it begins to be useful and efficient... The secret of all this is the issue
of nomadism and settled life.

In his m em orandum , M ustafa R efid Efendi (kethiida o f the Grand Vizier) expounds
the asabiyyet theory in the sam e w ay as K inahzade (w h o, the reader m ay remember, had
stressed that becau se o f its unanimity, a ruling class m ay dom inate a population ten tim es
bigger). U sin g historical exam p les, R efid Efendi sh o w s h ow unanim ity and solidarity
(ittifakü ’l-kelim, asabiyyet) secure the rule o f the ruling class (administrators and sold i­
ers) over the ten -fold population o f their subjects. Sultan Orhan tried to recruit salaried
soldiers from A natolia, but cou ld not im pose d iscipline over them , and thus created the
Janissaries, w hich enabled him to fulfil these precepts.8485R asih Efendi ( ex-rikâb kethüda-
si), in his turn, su ggests the continuous training o f the army (“restoring the nom adic con ­
ditions in the tim e o f settled life” , vakt-i hazarda askerimize bedeviyyet hâlâtmi kesb).is
Around the sam e tim e, in 1791, A bdullah H alim E fendi, a scholar w h o served as secre­
tary o f several clo se collaborators o f S elim III, including the aforem entioned § e r if Efendi
and M ustafa R efid E fendi, com p osed his Seyfii ’l-izzet ila hazreti sahibi ’d-devlet ( ‘The
sw ord o f glory [or: Izzet’s sword] for his ex c ellen cy the lord o f the state’) at the request
o f h is then patron, îz z e t M ehm ed Pasha (w h o becam e S elim ’s Grand V izier in 1794). In a
strange contradiction o f his reform ist associations, his tract has a strong traditional taste,
as it launches all the traditional accusations against corruption, ignorance, and moral
decay. In the ep ilogu e, w h ich is structured as a playful dialogu e b etw een fictional repre­
sentatives o f the population o f Istanbul, H alim Efendi claim s that the p eople o f old also
avoided luxury and pom p, esteem ed k n ow ledge, and w ere not pleased w henever peace
w as concluded w ith the infidel. I f these things change, “the Exalted State w ill b ecom e

82 Lewis, ‘Ibn Khaldun in Turkey’, 235-236, quoting ‘Azmî, Sefaretname. 1205 senesinde Prus-
ya kirali ikinci Frederik Guillaum ’in nezdme memur olan Ahmed Azmi Efendinindir (Istanbul
H.1303/1885), 52.
83 E. Z. Karal, ‘Nizâm-i Cedîd’e dâir lâyihalar’, Tarih Vesikalan, 1 (1941), 414-425 at 422-423;
E. Çagman, ‘III. Selim’e sunulan bir îslahat raporu: Mehmet Çerif Efendi layihasi’, Divan, 1
(1999), 217-233 at 230-231.
84 Karal, ‘Nizâm-i Cedîd’e dâir lâyihalar’, Tarih Vesikalan, 2 (1942), 104-111 at 104.
85 Ibid., 107.
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 277

fresh and you n g again” ( tazeleniir ) in tw o years’ tim e, “as is written in the con clu sion o f
Ibn K haldun’s Muqaddima”,S6 A s a matter o f fact, this is undoubtedly another instance
o f em phasis on nom adic virility, w hich can restore a d eclin in g state.
A s w e approach Tanzimat, this em phasis on the n om adism /settled life con flict is quite
evident. A fine exam ple is Çanizade M ehm ed Ataullah Efendi (c. 1770- 1826), w h o wrote
various m edical and m athem atical treatises (som e o f them translations from German or
French), served as official historian, and w rote a chronicle for the period from M ahmud
I’s accession ( 1808) up to A ugust 1821.8687 W hen d iscu ssin g the hum an inclination towards
evil and its degrees (a d iscu ssion that he actually takes from K m ahzade and ultim ately
D aw w ani), Çanizade quotes “books o f natural p hilosoph y ( kütüb-i tabiiyye ) su ch as Ibn
K haldun’s M uqaddima ” .88 This is a sort o f false citation, but in other parts o f h is w ork he
seem s quite fam iliar w ith the Ibn K haldunist theory o f ‘asabiyya. For instance, he states
that w hen the arrangem ents o f great groups called states by the philosophers (devlet tabir
olunan nizam-i cemaat-i kiibra ) fall into decline ( inhitat), the strongest groups prevail
and start to act independently. The class o f the Janissaries, b eing m ore united ( milttefik u
müctemî) than the other cla sses (becau se o f their previous order), dom inated over them.
In this w ay, how ever, w hatever affluence and com fort had been seized by other nations
because o f the pow er o f social solidarity (kuw et-i ictimaiyye) is n o w lost, as a result o f
the conflict am ong the other c la sses.89 E lsew here, in a report about a K urdish revolt,
§anizade ob serves that the local governor, having the benefit o f tribal solidarity (sahib-i
asabiyyet) because o f his local follow ers and relatives, m anaged to m ob ilise im m ediately
the Kurdish tribes “thanks to nom adism ” (fazilet-i bedeviyyetle).90

86 A. Çahin, ‘Abdullah Halim Efendi’nin Seyful-izzet ila hazreti sahibi'd-devlet adh kitabimn
çevirim yazisi ve degerlendirilmesi’, unpublished MA thesis, Marmara University, 2009, 192-
193 (ve bu benim sana sôyledigim mevaddin kiXllîsi hulâsa-i tedabir-i devlet ile makrundur. Ve
netice-i Mukaddime-i îbn-i HaldûnWwr). I wish to thank Günhan Bôrekçi who brought this
valuable text to my attention.
87 In the pieces of political advice he inserted, §anizade used a wide variety of sources, from
Dawwani and Kmahzade to Koçi Bey and Naima, not to mention European sources. Edhem El-
dem discovered recently that Çanizade may have plagiarised Voltaire’s article on history in the
famous Encyclopédie: E. Eldem, ‘Début des lumières ou simple plagiat? La très voltairienne
préface de l’histoire de Çanizade Mehmed Ataullah Efendi’, Turcica, 45 (2014), 269-318.
88 Çâni-zâde Mehmed ‘Atâ’ullah Efendi, §ânî-zâde târîhi [Osmanli tarihi (1223-1237 / 1808-
1821)] ed. Z. Yilmazer (Istanbul 2008), 1028. For these degrees of the inclination towards evil
see Kmahzade, Ahlâk-i Aid 7, ed. Koç, 486ff. These are (a) those who are naturally inclined to­
wards good and also act for the benefit of the others; a just ruler must choose his companions
and advisors from among these people; (b) those who are inclined towards good, but do not ex­
ert their good influence in the benefit of others; the king must look after their needs; (c) those
who are neither good nor bad by nature; the ruler must protect them and try to guide them to
the right path; (d) those who are bad by nature, but do not oppress others; the ruler must treat
them with contempt and then encourage them to improve themselves; (e) those bad by nature
who oppress others.
89 Çâni-zâde, Çâni-zâde târîhi, ed.Yilmazer, 405-406.
90 Ibid., 953.
278 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

The m ost interesting reference, how ever, b elon gs not to Çanizade but to an imperial
order he quotes, issued on the 1821 revolt and stating that although M uslim s have turned
to the settled w ay o f life (w h ich is “a secon d nature to m an’s d isposition ”), they have now
to revert to their ancestors’ nom adic (and h en ce w ar-like) custom s and fight back. A few
m onths later, another decree also urges M uslim s to take arms and abstain from luxury
and pom p, “adopting the shape o f nom adism and cam paign” ( bedeviyyet ve seferiyyet).
In practice, this m eant a kind o f general m ilitary levy or seferiyyet, w ithout such effective
results; this m easure w as extended even to the number o f m eals prepared in each house.
R eflecting on these developm en ts, Çanizade repeats that w ith imperial order M uslim s
had to unite and “substitute settled and p eaceful life for cam paign status” and describes
v ivid ly h ow the M uslim inhabitants o f Istanbul roam ed about in full w ar-like apparel.
Soon, how ever, p eop le started to “transform nom adism into fo o lish squandering” {be-
daveti yine sefahete tahvit) and to attach m ore im portance to adorning their w eapons
and exhibiting luxury.91 T hese d evelopm ents (leading to v io le n c e against n on-M uslim s
in Istanbul, Izmir, and Salonica, until the central governm ent changed its p o licy and re­
sum ed ex clu siv e control over the use o f v io len ce) have been described in detail by Çükril
Ilicak;9 2 1 w ill on ly add that there m ight have been an antecedent: the G reek Phanariot
Y akovakis R izos N erou los w rites in 1827 that after M ustafa IV ’s d eposition and during
the rule o f Bayraktar M ustafa, in 1808, “ [l]a Porte prétendit établir un gouvernem ent à
la tatare: elle proclam a le Bédéviyet ou regim e nom ade” .93 H ow ever, I cou ld not find any
reference to such m easures taken in 1808.
We have to note that the glorification o f nom adism rem ained m ostly at an id eological
level and did not exactly coin cid e w ith the actual practice o f the Ottom an state: although
efforts to settle nom adic tribes had begun at least from the late sixteenth century on, they
intensified after 1690 (a sp ecial bureau, the ‘O ffice o f Settlem ent’ or îskân Dairesi w as
founded in 1693). A t the sam e tim e, how ever, there also w ere system atic efforts towards
registration and incorporation o f tribal groups into the O ttom an army, and it m ay be m ore
than a m ere coincid en ce that, from 1691 on, the Balkan M uslim nom ads, the Ytiritks,
w ere registered as E vlâd-i Fatihan, “children o f the conquerors” .94 O ne is tem pted to

91 Ibid., 1084, 1169, 1238-1241. Some ofthese expressions originate directly from Mahmud II’s
decrees; see Ç. Ilicak, ‘A Radical Rethinking of Empire: Ottoman State and Society During the
Greek War of Independence, 1821-1826’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University,
2011, 113.
92 Ilicak, ‘A Radical Rethinking of Empire’, lOOff. and esp. 121-167. Hakan Erdem notes the
measures taken but fails to grasp their Ibn Khaldunist underpinnings; Christoph Neumann, on
the other hand, makes this connection: see H. Erdem, “Do not think of the Greeks as agricul­
tural labourers’: Ottoman responses to the Greek War of Independence’, in F. Birtek and Th.
Dragonas (eds), Citizenship and the Nation-State in Greece and Turkey (London 2005), 67-84
at 76; Neumann, Araç tarih amaç Tanzimat, 179-180.
93 Jacovaky Rizo Néroulos, Analyse raisonnée de l ’ouvrage intitulé Charte Turque, eds B. Bou­
vier and A. D. Lazaridou (Athens 2013), 194.
94 See R. Kasaba, A Moveable Empire: Ottoman Nomads, Migrants and Refugees (Seattle and
London 2009), 66-71 and 12-1A. On the Evlad-i Fatihan organisation see M. T. Gokbilgin,
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 279

see an echo o f early Ibn K haldunism in this denom ination, although (as w e sa w above)
what had perm eated Ottom an id eo lo g y by that tim e w as the stage theory, rather than
the idealisation o f nom adism . A t any rate, it is evident that late eighteenth, and, even
more, early nineteenth-century, Ottoman scholars and statesm en preferred to quote Ibn
K haldun’s theory on the m ilitary superiority o f the nom ads, rather than his p essim istic
v ie w on the inevitable stages o f a dynasty. A lthough this is beyon d the scop e o f the pres­
ent paper, w h ich confines itse lf to the pre-Tanzimat period, one has to n ote that by the
Ham idian era, the contrast b etw een settled and nom adic life had changed sid es. Instead
o f being associated w ith virility and strength, nom adism cam e to be used as the negative
‘other’, and, m ore particularly, as a state o f ignorance from w h ich it had to be forced into
civilisation .95 In his very interesting analysis o f the late O ttom an Empire as a version o f
“borrow ed co lon ialism ”, S elim D eringil conn ected this attitude w ith an adoption o f the
French colonial ‘m ission civ ilisa trice’, this tim e aim ed against Kurdish and B edouin no­
m adic populations o f the Em pire.96 One m ight see a precursor o f this ‘c o lo n isin g ’ trend
in the plea o f Penah Efendi (seen ab ove as an Ibn Khaldunist) for the c iv ilisin g o f the
unruly A lbanians by u sin g the m ethods presum ably used by the Spanish upon the w ild
inhabitants o f A m erica.97

Rumeli ’de Yürükler, Tatarlar ve Evlâd-i Fâtihân (Istanbul 1957), esp. 255ff. A relevant regula­
tion stated that “the group of the Evlad-i Fatihan, being from before an obedient, distinguished
and warlike (güzide ve cengâver) army of the Exalted State, proved very efficient and honour­
able; thus, this group was named and called Evlad-i Fatihan” (ibid., 255).
95 See T. Baykara, ‘Nizam, Tanzimat ve medeniyet kavramlan üzerine’, in I. Duruoz and G. Bti-
yüklimanli (eds), Tanzimat ‘in 150. yildônümü uluslararast sempozyumu: Bildiriler, 25-27Ara-
lik 1989, Millî Kiitiiphane, Ankara (Ankara 1994), 61-65; E. Wigen, ‘Interlingual and Interna­
tional Relations: A History of Conceptual Entanglements between Europe and Turkey’, unpub­
lished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Oslo, 2014, 105ff. and esp. 119-123.
96 See S. Deringil, The Well-Protected Domains. Ideology and the Legitimation o f Power in the
Ottoman Empire, 1876-1909 (London and New York 1999), 19, 41-42; idem, “‘They Live in a
State of Nomadism and Savagery”: The Late Ottoman Empire and the Post-Colonial Debate’,
Comparative Studies in Society and History, 45 (2003), 311-342, esp. 317-318. Cf. §. Mar-
din, ‘Center-Periphery Relations. A Key to Turkish Politics?’, Daedalus, 102 (1973), 169-190
at 170-171 (“the clash between nomads and urban dwellers generated the Ottoman cultivat­
ed man’s stereotype that civilization was a contest between urbanization and nomadism, and
that all things nomadic were only deserving of contempt”). On the practical side of the matter,
namely, the more organised state efforts to settle the nomads from the late 1820s onwards, see
Kasaba, A Moveable Empire, 84ff.
97 Penah Efendi describes the Albanians as unruly and undisciplined plunderers, who know noth­
ing of trade or arts. Among the measures he proposes, one is teaching them the Turkish lan­
guage, since “the good manners of a tribe depend on its learning the language of its dynasty”
(bir kavm terbiyesi bir devletin tekelliim itdigi lisant tekellüme muhtacdir); another is educat­
ing Albanian youths in Istanbul just as the Spanish brought Indian women to their country and
had them married to Spanish men (allegedly their children, who spoke both languages, were
sent back to America and served as interpreters, with the result that soon the natives forgot their
own language and now spoke only Spanish). See Berker, ‘Mora ihtilâli tarihçesi veya Penah
Efendi mecmuasi’, 239-240 and 309-312 and cf. A. Anastasopoulos, ‘Albanians in the Eighte-
280 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

IV . C o n c l u s i o n

It m ust have been evident from the analysis above that the reception o f Ibn K haldun’s
w ork by Ottoman historical and political thought ch allen ges the com m on ly received idea
that the Tunisian sch olar’s ideas had practically no influence on Islam icate historiogra­
phy till his rediscovery by the nineteenth-century W est.*98 H ow ever, the introduction o f
Ibn K haldunism into Ottoman literature cannot be explained so le ly by textual interde­
pendence and other tools o f the history o f ideas (or, as it is n o w fashionable to call it,
intellectual history). W hereas Ibn K haldun’s w ork seem s to have been know n in som e
intellectual circles already by the 1560s, it did not exercise any serious influence un­
til Kâtip Ç eleb i’s work, w hich, as w e saw, w as su ccessfu l in transm itting these ideas
throughout the secon d h a lf o f the seventeenth century. True, Kâtip Ç eleb i’s and later
N aim a’s elevated status o f authority m ust have p layed som e role, and w e have already
seen that the great su ccess o f N a im a ’s printed edition contributed to the reception o f
Ibn K haldun’s ideas through his adaptation. H ow ever, the continuous presence o f these
ideas during the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries cries out for som e explanation
beyond m ere textual transm ission.

K âtip Çelebi an d the affirmation o f historical change

In order to understand w h y Kâtip Ç elebi becam e such a fervent fo llo w er o f his Tunisian
predecessor, w e have to look at his intellectual environm ent and the id eological trends he
w as trying to refute. B efore Kâtip Ç eleb i’s tim e, the dom inant idea in Ottom an political
thought (and, in fact, in the circles w hich influenced the palace p o licies during Murad
IV ’s tim e) w as w hat w e cou ld call a ‘theory o f d eclin e’: thinkers such as the anonym ous
author o f Kitâb-i müstetâb (c. 1620), K oçi B e y (c. 1630), or A z iz Efendi (1 6 3 3 ) shared
the sam e v ie w o f the present situation as a dangerous d eviation from the rules o f Siiley-
m an’s G olden Era. In a w ay elaborating previous v ie w s (e.g ., that o f M ustafa A li at the
end o f the sixteenth century), they su ggested that the solution w ou ld be a return to the
glorious past: institutions o f the early or m id sixteenth century w ere idealised and strict
adherence to the “old law ” w as advocated. M ost o f th ese authors seem to have been asso ­
ciated w ith Murad IV and his efforts to im pose d iscipline and order on the Janissary army
after the upheavals o f the 16 2 0 s, and one can even argue that the m ain m otive behind all
this discourse w as to g iv e an id eological background to an effort o f the palace to curb the
grow ing pow er o f the Janissaries.99 A set o f texts describing kanun or ‘regulations’ for
the m ilitary and the governm ent to follow , such as K oçi B e y ’s secon d treatise (1 6 4 0 ), the
anonym ous Kavanin-i yeniçeriyân (1 6 0 6 ), Ayn A li’s (c. 1610) and A vni O m er’s (1 6 4 2 )

enth-Century Ottoman Balkans’, in E. Kolovos, Ph. Kotzageorgis, S. Laiou, and M. Sariyan-

nis (eds), The Ottoman Empire, the Balkans, the Greek Lands: Toward a Social and Economic
History. Studies in Honor o f John C. Alexander (Istanbul 2007), 37-47.
98 Cf. Buzov, ‘History’, 189-197.
99 Cf. B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire: Political and Social Transformation in the Early
Modern World (Cambridge and New York 2010).
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 281

descriptions o f the Janissary and timar system , m ay be seen as b elon gin g to the sam e
trend. Furthermore, alon gsid e these advocates o f a strict return to the old order, another
trend becam e m ore and m ore visib le from the 1620s and 1630s throughout the century,
namely, what Derin Terzioglu nam ed the ‘Sunna-m inded’ authors and preachers, com ­
prising not only the ‘fundam entalist’ K adizadelis but also a w ider range o f ulem a and
dervishes, favouring a m ore or less uncom prom ising return to the early Islam ic v a lu es.100
Towards the end o f the century, this trend gained an unprecedented influence on the
imperial policy-m akers and left its mark on the financial reform s o f the late seventeenth
century, such as the reform o f the poll tax and various experim ents undertaken in land-
holding, taxation, and regulation o f p rices.101 But in Kâtip Ç ele b i’s tim e, the ‘Sunna-
m inded’ trend w a s clearly p erceived as a dem and for a strict legalism , w h ich w o u ld bring
about a huge turm oil in p eo p le’s everyday life.
Kâtip Ç elebi, h im se lf a d iscip le o f K adizadeli M ehm ed E fendi, took a clear stance
against both these traditions. H is ideas w ere nearer the reform ist viziers o f the 16 50s, like
Tarhuncu A hm ed Pasha and Kôprülü M ehm ed Pasha.102 In h is last work, Mizanii ’l-hakfi
ihtiyari ’l-ahak ( ‘The balance o f truth for the selection o f the truest [w a y ]’, 1656), he tried
to refute on ce and for all the ‘Sunna-m inded’ legalism , arguing that vio len t interference
in p eo p le’s liv es and custom s brings on ly dissent and strife.103 It seem s that, by endorsing
Ibn K haldun’s v ie w o f history as a series o f rises and falls o f dynasties, he w as trying to
refute the other dom inant id eo lo g y o f his era, that o f the ‘old la w ’ ad vocates.104 To this
end, he began by seein g so ciety as analogous to the hum an body (enhancing the older

100 D. Terzioglu, ‘Sunna-minded Sufi Preachers in Service of the Ottoman State: the Nasîhatnâme
of Hasan Addressed to Murad IN \ ArchOtt, 27 (2010), 241-312. On the Kadizadelis in partic­
ular see M. Zilfi, ‘The Kadizadelis: Discordant Revivalism in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul’,
Journal ofNear Eastern Studies, 45 ( 1986), 251 -269; eadem, The Politics o f Piety: The Otto­
man Ulema in the Postclassical Age (1600-1800) (Minneapolis 1988), 129-181; D. Le Gall,
‘Kadizadelis, Nakçbendis and Intra-Sufi Diatribe in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul’, TSAJ, 28
(2004), 1-28; M. Sariyannis, ‘The Kadizadeli Movement as a Social and Political Phenome­
non: The Rise of a ‘Mercantile Ethic’?’, in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), Political Initiatives from
the Bottom-Up in the Ottoman Empire (Halcyon Days in Crete VII, A Symposium Held in
Rethymno, 9-11 January 2009) (Rethymno 2012), 263-289.
101 See G. Veinstein, ‘Les règlements fiscaux ottomans de Crète’, in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), The
Eastern Mediterranean under Ottoman Rule: Crete, 1645-1840 (Halcyon Days in Crete VI.
A Symposium Held in Rethymno, 13-15 January 2006) (Rethymno 2008), 3-16; M. Greene,
‘An Islamic Experiment? Ottoman Land Policy on Crete’, Mediterranean Historical Review,
11 (1996), 60-78; E. Tuçalp Atiyas, Chapter VI in Sariyannis, A History o f Ottoman Political
Thought.
102 G. Hagen, Ein osmanischer Geograph bei der Arbeit. Entstehung und Gedankenwelt von Kat-
ib Celebis Gihannüma (Berlin 2003), 62-64.
103 Kâtip Çelebi, Mizanü’l-Hak fi Ihtiyari ’l-Ahak (Istanbul H. 1306/1888); English translation
by G. L. Lewis, The Balance o f Truth, by Kdtib Chelebi (London 1957); cf. M. T. Gôkbilgin,
‘Kâtip Çelebi, interprète et rénovateur des traditions religieuses au XVIIe siècle’, Turcica, 3
(1971), 71-79.
104 The reader may remember that a similar case can perhaps be made for Veysî Efendi’s work, in
connection to his probably being the first known owner of a Muqaddima manuscript.
282 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

sim iles by substituting the four elem en ts for the four b odily humours as corresponding
to the four social groups), having first defined devlet in term s o f so ciety rather than dy­
nasty.105 Then he introduced the Ibn Khaldunist theory o f stages, in sisting again on the
sim ilitude betw een man and society; then he w as ready to proceed to his m ain argument,
i.e., that, just as a doctor should g iv e different m ed icines to a patient according to the lat­
ter’s age, so should a reform er use different m easures according to the stage a so ciety has
reached. The im plication w as that change and innovation w ere a p ositive rather than a
negative value, and thus the potential reform er should adopt a problem -orientated p olicy
rather than revert to som e id ealised constitutions o f the past. O f all the Ibn Khaldunist
ideas in Kâtip Ç eleb i’s work, it w as exactly this last im plication that survived or that
w as used w ith m ore intensity by his seventeenth-century fo llo w ers (i.e., H em dem î and
H ezarfen), but also by N aim a, Dürrî, or Penah Efendi in the eighteenth century. This m ay
indicate the real reasons w hy these ideas b ecam e so popular: Ibn K haldunism offered a
sophisticated theoretical ground for argum ents in favour o f socio-p olitical change and
reform.

Nom adism as patriotism

W hereas in the seventeenth century Kâtip Ç elebi popularised a three-stage version o f
Ibn K haldun’s law s o f imperial growth, conn ected w ith h is ow n sim ilitude to the human
body, N a im a ’s m ore faithful rendering o f the five-stage theory did not leave so m any
traces, even i f (as w e saw above) it w as his printed edition by Ibrahim M iiteferrika that
contributed to the continuous presence o f Ibn Khaldunism in eighteenth-century politi­
cal tracts. W hat is certain is that towards the end o f the eighteenth century the notion o f
nom adic life as a sign o f valour and solidarity, con n ected w ith the rise o f em pires, gains
w eigh t as the dom inant elem en t o f Ibn K haldunist ideas circulating in these circles.
One cou ld also argue that a certain em phasis on ‘u n ity ’ and ‘solidarity’ has som e af­
finities w ith Ibn K haldun’s nom adic ‘asabiyya. M ustafa R eçid E fen d i’s em phasis on as-
abiyyet, explained as unanim ity (ittifakii ’l-kelim), m ay not be very far rem oved from the
‘D eed o f A llia n ce’ (sened-i ittifak), the fam ous docum ent sign ed in 1808 by the Sultan,
the representatives o f the governm ent and the group o f provincial notables w h o had been
assem bled in Istanbul under Bayraktar (or A lem dar) M ustafa P ash a.106 Furthermore, the

105 Cf. Sariyannis, ‘Ruler and State’, 92-94.

106 See the full text and literature in A. Akyildiz, ‘Sened-i ittifâkTn tam metni’, Islâm Arasitirma-
lari Dergisi/Turkish Journal o f Islamic Studies, 2 (1998), 209-222 [and in English translation
in A. Akyildiz and M. $. Hanioglu, ‘Negotiating the Power of the Sultan: the Ottoman Sened-
i ittifak (Deed of Agreement), 1808’, in C. M. Amin, B. C. Fortna and E. Frierson (eds), The
Modern Middle East: A Sourcebookfor History (Oxford 2006), 22-30], and cf. N. Berkes, The
Development o f Secularism in Turkey {London 1964), 90-92; M Ç. Hanioglu, ,4 Brief History
o f the Late Ottoman Empire (Princeton and Oxford 2008), 57-58; A. Yaycioglu, ‘Sened-i it­
tifak (1808): Osmanli imparatorlugu’nda bir ortaklik ve entegrasyon denemesi’, in S. Kenan
(ed.), Nizâm-i Kâdîm 'den Nizâm-i Cedîd’e: 111. Selim ve donerni (Istanbul 2010), 667-709 at
700-707; idem, ‘Provincial Power-Holders and the Empire in the Late Ottoman World: Conf­
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 283

observable shift towards a m ore individualistic interpretation o f history, w here respon­

sibility for the w elfare o f the com m unity b elon gs to all its m em bers, rather than being
left to D iv in e Providence, cou ld also be related to this attitude. A bdullah H alim Efendi
stresses that all social groups m ust be held responsible and strive to sh ow zeal and reli­
gious fervour, w h ile A hm ed V a sif Efendi (c. 1 7 3 0 -1 8 0 6 ) em p loyed around 1784 a subtle
philosophical distinction betw een “particular” versus “universal even ts” to argue that
the Ottom ans should secure the form er (i.e ., m uster the m eans o f warfare) to call forth
G od’s h elp .107 B y 1806, D ihkanizade Kuçm anî, another defender o f Selim I l l ’s reform, in
order to establish his ow n right to speak, admits that he is on ly an itinerant dervish, but,
on the other hand, even an itinerant dervish is still a M uslim , and all M uslim s are sim i­
larly responsible for “com m anding right and forbidding w rong” ( emr-i ma ’r u f ve nehy-i
münker ) .108 A s put by V irginia A k san ,109

By pointing to the efficacy of rationalizing warfare, [Ottoman bureaucrats] were suggesting

that the outcome of war could be influenced by man, though divine intervention remained the
deciding factor. The ideology of the “ever-victorious-frontier” and “the circle of equity” was
slowly being replaced with that of service to din-ii-devlet on the part of each individual.

If all individuals are responsible, then their unanim ity is required. This is h ow the
sam e principle is expressed in the text o f the ‘D eed o f A llia n c e ’:110

...it is manifest that the re-invigoration of religion, the Sublime State, and the whole Muslim
community depends upon the sincere unity of and concord among the high officials and minis­
ters.. . Praise be to God, who strengthened Islam by means of men who acted with one accord
and in harmony... It is a self-evident fact that the conquests, victories, glory, and might that
[the Sublime State] enjoyed from its early foundation to this very day have been accomplished
through union, unity, and the removal of selfishness and strife (ittihad il ittifak ve ref’-i nefsan-
iyet ve fikak ile)... Hence... we exerted efforts for the re-invigoration of religion and the state,
as a single body and in union and concord.

lict or Partnership?’, in Ch. Woodhead (ed.), The Ottoman World (London and New York
2012), 436-452 at 449-450.
107 §ahin, ‘Abdullah Halim Efendi’nin Seyfii’l-izzet ila hazreti sahibi'd-devlef ; E. L. Mench-
inger, ‘AReformist Philosophy of History: the Case of Ahmed Vâsif Efendi’, OA, 44 (2014),
141-168.
108 O. Içbilir (ed.), Nizâm-i Cedîde dâir bir risâle: Zebîre-i Kuçmânifi ta ’rîf-i nizâm-i ilhâmî (An­
kara 2006), 14-18. On this traditional Islamic obligation, see M. Cook, Commanding Right
and Forbidding Wrong in Islamic Thought (Cambridge and New York 2000).
109 Aksan, ‘Ottoman Political Writing’, 63-64; cf. K. Çakul, ‘Nizâm-i Cedid düçüncesinde bati-
lilaçma ve islami modemleçme’, Dîvân - Îlmî Araçtirmalar, 19 (2005), 117-150 at 120. The
same emphasis on service to din-ii-devlet was repeated in the preambles of the first laws of
Selim III, inaugurating the Nizam-i Cedid reforms: see, e.g., Y. Koç and F. Yeçil (eds), Nizâm-i
Cedid kanunlari (Ankara 2012), 3.
110 The translation is from Akyildiz and Hanioglu, ‘Negotiating the Power of the Sultan’, 24-25;
cf. Akyildiz, ‘Sened-i ittifâk’m tarn metni’. On the expression “alliance of the hearts” (ittifak-i
kulûb), used in the ‘Deed of Alliance’ as an alternative of asabiyyet see also Ilicak, ‘A Radical
Rethinking of Empire’, 124-125.
284 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

A lthough the w ord asabiyyet d oes not appear, the Ibn Khaldunist spirit is evident.
This shift o f em phasis calls for an interpretation. G iven the undoubted rise o f na­
tionalism s in the Balkans during the sam e period, on e m ay w onder whether this late
eighteenth and early nineteenth-century em phasis on the superiority o f nom adism co n s­
titutes a kind o f ‘Ottom an patriotism ’. Scholars and political theorists aside, it seem s that
a certain em phasis on the glorious nom adic past o f the Ottom ans cam e to be dom inant
towards the late eighteenth century. For instance, let us consider the cerem onial girding
o f each n ew Sultan w ith a sword. W hereas in the seventeenth century the sw ord had
no other specification, w ith M ustafa II (r. 1 6 9 5 -1 7 0 3 ) it began to be d esign ed as the
Prophet M uham m ad’s sw ord (not surprisingly, given M u stafa’s tendency to favour the
Sharia rather than the ‘secu lar’ kanun o f the past). B y M ustafa IV ’s accession , in 1807,
the sw ord had becom e O sm an’s, i.e., a sym bol o f n om adic m ilitary superiority.11112 On
the other hand, one should not think that Ottoman statesm en w ere taking these allusions
to nom adism literally: n obody really ever advocated a dissolu tion o f settled cities or an
army constantly on the m ove. ‘N o m a d ism ’ m ostly had for them the m eaning o f a general
m obilisation (in the form o f the ag e-o ld nefir-i âm)m and o f an army continuously dril­
ling and training, as op posed to liv in g a luxurious life and to the soldiers m ainly bein g
occupied w ith trade and busin ess or w ith co ffee-h o u se discu ssion s.
Furthermore, it is tem pting to see the various stages o f Ibn K haldun’s reception in
parallel w ith O ttom an ideas on historical tim e .113 A s Reinhart K o se lle ck has su ggested ,
the turm oil o f the revolutionary years in Europe (roughly 175 0 -1 8 5 0 , seen by K o selleck
as a Sattelzeit or “saddle period”) brought the ancient n otion o f history as magistra vitae,
‘a teacher o f life ’, to an end. A n ew tem porality began to em erge, one w here present
ch oice could not b e dictated by the past and w here the future w as o p en .114 U sin g this
analytical tool, G ottfried H agen and Ethan L. M enchinger recently argued that Ottoman

111 N. Vatin and G. Veinstein, Le Sérail ébranlé. Essai sur les morts, dépositions et avènements
des sultans ottomans, XlVe-XIXe siècle (Paris 2003), 314 (on Mustafa II), 319 (on Mustafa
IV). I wish to thank Gottfried Hagen for bringing this point to my attention. From 1730 on­
wards, new Sultans began to visit the türbe ofMehmed II: ibid., 317-319.
112 It is striking how little we know about this institution of a ‘popular militia’, raised from among
inhabitants of villages and towns under the leadership of local officials in times of emergency
in the borderland or against Celali rebels. The procedure is described, e.g., in Silâhdâr Fm-
dikhh Mehmed Aga, Silâhdâr Tarihi, ed. A. Refik, 2 vols (Istanbul 1928), 2:356 [=N. Kara-
çay Türkal, ‘Silahdar Fmdiklih Mehmed Aga, Zeyl-i Fezleke (1065-22 Ca 1106/1654-7 Çubat
1695)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Marmara University, 2012, 1151-1152], This kind of
general call to arms was used as late as in 1828 against Russia: V. Aksan, ‘Military Reform
and Its Limits in a Shrinking Ottoman World, 1800-1840’, in eadem and D. Goffman, The
Early Modern Ottomans: Remapping the Empire (Cambridge 2007), 117-134 at 130. On its
beginnings, see M. Tugluca, ‘Osmanh’da nefîr-i âmm uygulamasmm erken dônem ômekleri
ve toplumsal dinamizme yansimasi’, Belleten, 80 (2016), 773-796.
113 1 owe this whole paragraph to a comment by Gottfried Hagen.
114 R. Koselleck, ‘Historia magistra vitae: über die Auflôsung des Topos im Horizont neuzeitlich
bewegter Geschichte’ in idem, Vergangene Zukunft: zur Semantik geschichtlicher Zeiten
(Frankfurt am Main 1979), 38-66 [tr. by K. Tribe as ‘Historia Magistra Vitae: the Dissolution
 OTTOMAN IBN KHALDUNISM REVISITED 285

historiography, being a proponent o f revelation history, had no p lace for real historical
tim e and continued to stress the instructive and didactic function o f history even w ell into
the nineteenth century.115 On the other hand, Kâtip Ç elebi and N a im a ’s endorsem ent o f
Ibn Khaldunist stages (as w ell as V ey sî’s anti-d eclinist d iscourse) is a continuation o f an
earlier em phasis on cyclica l dynam ics (or “dynastic cy c lism ”, as C ornell F leisch er calls
it) as a universal pattern, from w hich the Ottoman state could on ly escape through a typi­
cal excep tion alism .116 One m ight remark, how ever, that Kâtip Ç ele b i’s b ody metaphor
leads him to im ply that the death o f the Ottoman dynasty w ou ld be as sure as the fate
o f mortals. Indeed, Kâtip Ç elebi claim ed that the regular tim e span o f a state cou ld only
be prolonged (just like the doctor can prolong a patient’s life). N a im a recogn ised the
last stage o f dynasties in his ow n tim es, but hoped that the p rocess o f d eclin e cou ld be
reversed w ith the help o f an interval o f peace; Pirizade in his translation stressed the ex ­
ceptional character o f the Ottoman state (w h ich perm itted its escap in g the 120-year rule),
w hile Dürrî so lv es the problem by p lacin g the Ottom ans still at the m iddle age o f states.
With the glorification o f nom adism by the end o f the eighteenth century, however,
a return to the origins b egins to be considered a potential n ew start: in A bdullah Halim
Efendf’s w ords, the Ottoman Empire cou ld “b ecom e fresh and you n g again” {tazeleniir),
whereas the ‘D eed o f A llia n c e ’ speaks o f a “re-invigoration” o f so ciety ( ihya-yi din ii
devlet). (A cautionary or, perhaps, corollary, remark: the sam e sen se o f re-invigoration
through a return to the valu es o f the past is also present in the seventeenth century in both
‘declinist’ theorists and K adizadeli Salafists, w hom Kâtip Ç elebi sought to refute through
Ibn Khaldunism ). Thus, eventual d eclin e and fall can be avoid ed and history becom es
open-ended. H ow ever, i f w e are to fo llo w K o se lle c k ’s m odel, it still is seen as magistra
vitae, since it is through repetition o f the glorious b egin nings that a glorious continuation
can be achieved. To use another fam ous con cept o f K o se lle c k ’s Begrijfsgeschichte, Otto­
man Ibn Khaldunism w as used by Kâtip Ç elebi and N a im a to w id en the ‘sp ace o f experi­
en ce’, in order to contain their ‘horizon o f exp ectation ’, w hereas late eighteenth-century
authors and statesm en used the sam e ideas to w id en their ‘horizon o f exp ectation ’, keep­
ing a constant ‘space o f exp erien ce’.117 In other w ords, Ibn Khaldunism w as u sed in the
first case as a m eans o f interpreting the co n ceiv a b le future o f the Em pire by reducing it to

of the Topos into the Perspective of a Modernized Historical Process’, Futures Past: on the
Semantics o f Historical Time (New York 2004), 26-42],
115 G. Hagen and E. L. Menchinger, ‘Ottoman Historical Thought’, in P. Duara, V. Murthy and
A. Sartori (eds), A Companion to Global Historical Thought (Oxford 2014), 92-106 and esp.
102-104.
116 Fleischer, ‘Royal Authority, Dynastic Cyclism’; Hagen and Menchinger, ‘Ottoman Historical
Thought’, 100-101; E. Menchinger, ‘Free Will, Predestination, and the Fate of the Ottoman
Empire’, Journal o f the History o f Ideas, 77 (2016), 445-466 and esp. 455-457.
117 See R. Koselleck, ‘Erfahrungsraum und Erwartungshorizont - zwei historische Kategorien’,
in idem, Vergangene Zukunft, 349-375 (tr. by K. Tribe as “ Space of Experience’ and ‘Hori­
zon of Expectation’: Two Historical Categories’ in Futures Past, 255-275); on the applica­
tion of these concepts in the Ottoman case, cf. Hagen and Menchinger, ‘Ottoman Historical
Thought’, 95-96.
286 MARINOS SARIYANNIS

a universal phenom enon, w hereas the social en gineering efforts o f the secon d case tried
to bring about a n ew future, by referring to this sam e and know n past. The con cept o f
‘ch an ge’ m ay have been w ell introduced by the end o f the seventeenth century, but that
o f ‘progress’ did not appear till w ell into the nineteenth.118

118 On the other hand, one could argue that the way political thinkers of the eighteenth century
tried to advocate Westernising reforms by referring to steps of reciprocity and mutual imita­
tion (the concept known as mukabele b i’l-misl) implies a sense of ‘progress’. See U. Heyd,
‘The Ottoman ‘Ulema and Westernization in the Time of Selim III and Mahmud II’, in idem,
Studies in Islamic History and Civilization. Scripta Hierosolymitana, 9 (1961), 63-96 at 74-
77; A. Ôzel, ‘Islam hukuku ve modem devletler hukukunda mukabele bilmisl / misilleme /
karçiliklihk’, Islam Hukuku Araqtirmalan Dergisi, 5 (2005), 49-66; Çakul, ‘Nizâm-i Cedid
düçüncesinde batihlaçma’, 118-121; E. L. Menchinger, ‘An Ottoman Historian in an Age of
Reform: Ahmed Vâsif Efendi (ca. 1730-1806)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of
Michigan, 2014, 225-233 and 242-260; Sariyannis, A History o f Ottoman Political Thought,
Chapter IX. On the genesis and development of the concept of progress in the Tanzimat and
post-Tanzimat periods, see Wigen, ‘Interlingual and International Relations’, 123-126.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER -
OTTOMAN READINGS OF THE TREATY
OF AL-HUDAYBIYYA

G o ttfr ie d H a g e n *

Framework: The P rophet as m odel in governm ent

T hat em ulation of th e a ction s of th e P r o ph et M uh a m m a d is a central ten et o f M us­
lim piety is a truism, yet it is w orthw hile to rem em ber that it em erged not through an in­
herent logic o f the revelation, nor naturally from an innate sen se o f sacred m em ory, but
as the result o f specific political d ecision s in sp ecific so cio -p o litica l circum stances. Far
from being lim ited to acts o f w orship proper, seek in g guidance from the m od el o f the
Prophet cam e to include all acts o f life, w ithout a boundary that w ou ld separate the realm
o f the sacred from a ‘secu lar’ area. Islam ic scholars d evised an elaborate herm eneutical
procedure to determ ine w h ich actions o f the Prophet w ere to be taken as m od el, and how
to follow th em .*1 This procedure assum es that the Prophet’s saintly rank im p lies that in
any question o f life, his w ay o f acting is the one that is m ost lik ely to p lease G od, and as
such w ill lead to salvation.
H ow ever, w h ile alm ost any aspect o f regular life cam e to be gu id ed by the Prophet as
a saintly m odel for em ulation, his role as political and m ilitary leader received com para­
tively little attention. The first narratives o f his life in Islam ic literature (sira) naturally
include his accom plishm ents as founder and leader o f the com m un ity o f b elievers, but
this aspect is subsequently eclip sed in the primarily ‘d ev o tio n a l’ slra literature o f the
pre-m odem period.2 O nce the A bbasids w ere firm ly established, and their rivalry with
the U m ayyads over the legitim ate su ccession to the Prophet faded into the past, interest

* University of Michigan.
1 A very useful overview is R. Gleave, ‘Personal piety’, in The Cambridge Companion to Mu­
hammad, ed. J. Brockopp (Cambridge 2010), 108-117.
2 The foundational narratives of sira are those by Ibn Ishaq (d. 767) as transmitted by Ibn
Hisham (d. 833), al-Waqidi (d. 822), al-Tabari (d. 923), Ibn Sa'd (d. 845), and al-Baladhuri
(d. c. 892), on all of whom see T. Khalidi, Images o f Muhammad: Narratives o f the Prophet in
Islam across the Centuries (New York 2009), 57-103. The term ‘devotional sira’ is from Ch. F.
Robinson, Islamic historiography (Cambridge and New York 2003), 65. On the later develop­
ments crucial for our argument see T. Nagel, Allahs Liebling. Ursprung und Erscheinungsfor-
men des Mohammedglaubens (Munich 2008), 199-229 and passim.
288 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

in the m ilitary exp loits o f the Prophet typically flourished m ostly near the frontiers.3
A t the sam e tim e, the em erging sunna-hadith literature w ith its pronounced ahistorical
agenda foregrounded very different them es, such as the establishing o f legal and moral
norm s from the actions o f the Prophet, and his elevation to a co sm ic principle from w hich
creation and salvation equally flow ed . Thus, in the later slra literature, the account o f the
Prophet’s m ilitary career w as often relegated to a catalog o f raids, or broken dow n further
into ep isod es that primarily served as arguments in legal disputes.4
Leadership o f the com m unity b ecam e a matter o f revelation or inspired acts o f m odel
character w hich inculcated piety, but not political thinking. The ‘um m a docu m ent’ o f
622, w hich under the label o f ‘Constitution o f M edina’ is often touted in m odern d is­
course as a cornerstone o f M uham m ad’s statesm anship, is hardly m entioned after Ibn
Ishaq.5 H istorians in turn had different reasons for fo cu sin g on the salvific aspect o f
M uham m ad’s career as the culm ination o f revelation history, but they also ended up
reporting his m ilitary exp loits m ore as a matter o f record than as exem plary leadership.
H istoriography as a resource for the guidance o f the political and adm inistrative elite
flourished in the Islam ic Em pire and its su ccessor states, but, in the words o f C hase R ob­
inson, “even the m ost d eep ly pious m ight con cede that M uham m ad’s sunna - his m odel
w ay o f d oing things, enshrined in the hadith - had little sp ecific to teach m en in pow er
about creating or m aintaining a p olity and social order” .6 The th eological reasons for w hy
the political leadership o f the Prophet w as not suitable as a historical object lesso n in the
sam e w ay as that o f other kings w ere put forward by m ed ieval historian-philosopher Ibn
M iskaw ayh (d. 1030):

We had made it a condition at the very beginning of this work that we would only include such
narratives as may hold a valuable stratagem for the future or a cunning trick that took place in
wartime or elsewhere, so that it may be something to ponder and learn from for one who under­
takes anything similar in the future. (...) For this reason, we have omitted to mention most of
the Prophet’s Maghazi since they all took place through divine success and support combined
with abasement of his enemies. But no experience can be usefully deduced from this, nor any
cunning trick or any human stratagem.7

Ibn M iskaw ayh ’s history is titled Tajârub al-umam, The E xperiences o f N ations, indi­
cating that for him history is a repertoire o f exem plary tales. W hat he has articulated here
is im plicitly true for m any other writers in his genre: that the person o f the Prophet is e s­

3 Robinson, Islamic Historiography, 122.

4 Nagel, Allahs Liebling specifically cites Ibn al-Jawzi and al-Maqrizi in this regard (loc. cit.).
5 On it see M. Lecker, The 'Constitution o f Medina Muhammad’s First Legal Document (Princ­
eton 2004).
6 Robinson, Islamic Historiography, 115. It is no surprise, then, that the historical reference
point for the wars of memory in the Abbasid period, the harnessing of historical arguments for
political disputes, was primarily the Rightly Guided Caliphs, rather than the Prophet himself;
see T. el-Hibri, Parable and Politics in Early Islamic History. The Rashidun Caliphs (New
York 2010).
7 From Tajârub al-umam, translated in Khalidi, Images o f Muhammad, 300.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 289

sentially a m anifestation o f the extra-temporal, albeit within the chronology o f history, but
w ithout an inherent relation to it.8 There is a yet little understood process w hich leads from
the treatment o f M uham m ad’s life as extraneous to history, and as tangentially relevant
at best to the ultim ately didactic and political goals o f historiography, to his depiction as
first and forem ost a political agent in a specific historical context, as he is seen in m odem
M uslim and non-M uslim historiography. This is, to a large degree, because the production
from the Ottoman period is often n eglected by scholars focu sed on Arabic texts.9
It is w ith this background in m ind that I am approaching references to the Prophet
M uhammad as a political figure and m odel in Ottoman letters, asking w here and h ow Ot­
toman writers w ould feel com pelled to draw on his political and m ilitary actions in order to
explain or justify decision s by their ow n political leadership, and h o w they w ould navigate
the concom itant moral and legal claim s and the theological pitfalls o f pious emulation.
The Ottoman Empire in the sixteenth century con sciously identified as a Sunni polity,
based both on a set o f imperial institutions o f Islam ic learning and on a mature historical
consciousness that placed the Ottoman polity squarely in a long tradition o f Sunni state­
hood. It is w ell know n that Ottoman scholars developed a theory o f the Caliphate being
passed on to the H ouse o f Osman. The chancellor Feridun A hm ed B e g (d. 1583) opened
his m odel collection o f Ottoman state correspondence with the letters sent by the Prophet
M uhamm ad to leaders o f foreign states, as a token o f continuity from his days to the Otto­
m ans.10 W hile the dynasty engaged in the establishm ent o f a state-sponsored legal school,
the persecution o f Shiites under Ottoman rule w as a hallmark o f the sixteenth century.11 All
these observations have given rise to the concept o f Sunnitization, suggesting that the ori­
entation towards the m odel set by the Prophet w as essential to the Ottoman se lf-im a g e.12

8 The contrast between the extra-temporal and the historical is a main theme in Nagel, Allahs Li-
ebling.
9 Khalidi, Images o f Muhammad, 241-297 highlights the contrast but offers very little explana­
tion. Similarly, Thomas Bauer’s valuable study of Islamic cultural and intellectual history: Die
Kultur der Ambiguitàt. Eine andere Geschichte des Islams (Berlin 2011), contrasts a pre-mod­
em culture with a modem one produced by the encounter with Western colonialism, but unfor­
tunately skips the history between 1500 and colonialism, in which indigenous transformations
also occurred alongside exogenous change.
10 Ahmed Feridun Beg, Mün$eat-i selâtin (Bulaq 1274), 1:30-35; see also D. J. Kastritsis, ‘Feffdün
Beg’s Münçe’âtü ‘s-Selâtln (‘Correspondence of Sultans’) and Late Sixteenth-Century Otto­
man Views of the Political World’, in Imperial Geographies in Byzantine and Ottoman Space,
ed. S. Bazzaz, Y. Batsaki, and D. Angelov (Cambridge MA and London 2013).
11 M. Dressier, ‘Inventing orthodoxy: Competing claims for authority and legitimacy in the Ot-
toman-Safavid conflict’, in Legitimizing the Order: Ottoman Rhetoric o f State Power, ed. H.
Karateke and M. Reinkowski (Leiden 2005); N. Al-Tikriti, ‘Kalam in the service of the state:
Apostasy and the defining of Ottoman Islamic identity’, in Legitimizing the Order: Ottoman
Rhetoric o f State Power, ed. H. Karateke and M. Reinkowski (Leiden 2005); G. Burak, The
Second Formation o f Islamic Law: The Hanafi School in the Early Modern Ottoman Empire
(Cambridge 2015).
12 D. Terzioglu, ‘How to conceptualize Ottoman Sunnitization: a historiographical discussion’,
Turcica, 44 (2013) with further references concerning the state of the debate.
290 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

It is often assum ed that the m od el set by the Prophet has, in one w a y or another, a de­
term ining influence on the d ecisio n s M u slim s m ake regarding their lives, but strikingly,
the rich genre o f Ottom an ad vice literature, as far as I can see, d oes not typically refer­
ence conduct o f the Prophet as leader o f the com m unity as a m odel for Ottom an rulers
and administrators. D o es that m ean, how ever, that Ibn M isk aw ayh ’s reasoning has been
adopted consistently ( if im p licitly ), and that Ottom an thinkers have insulated the Prophet
from historical contingency? I f that is the case, what is the sign ifican ce o f the prom inent
instances w here O ttom an writers exp licitly constructed h istorical-political arguments on
ep isod es from the Prophet M uham m ad’s political and m ilitary leadership o f the com ­
m unity o f B elievers? A re there indications that Ottoman writers - as m ight easily be as­
sum ed - also in other w a y s inserted their ‘presentist’ concerns into their representations
o f the Prophet’s life? In either instance and either genre, such references are bound to
raise a h ost o f philosoph ical questions for the pious. I f authors agree w ith Ibn M iskaw ayh
that the Prophet stands outside the regularities o f historical experience, w hat is the effect
o f em ulating his actions? Is this em ulation beneficial b ecause his actions w ere rational,
or because the follo w er w ill receiv e a divine reward for his piety? Is there a m ethod by
m eans o f w hich such lesson s can be deduced?
The questions pursued here, then, seek to contribute to the nascent study o f Ottoman
political theology, a term by w h ich I m ean the w a y in w h ich th eological thinking applies
to political matters, or in w h ich p olitical matters are exp ressed in th eological, or more
generally, religious terms. Ottom an political th eo lo g y m anifests its e lf in d iscu ssion s as
to w hether and h o w the D iv in e intervenes in historical matters, and in w hich w ay the
historical - alw ays understood as the political - acquires its m eaning through th eo lo g i­
cal interpretation.13 O ttom an dynastic history, for instance, w as clearly written w ith an
idea o f ‘m anifest d estin y ’ in m ind, encapsulated in O sm an ’s providential dream, and
m ore than one Sultan im agin ed h im s e lf as surrounded by an aura o f sanctity.14 In short,
the con cept o f political th eology, in addition to the legal and pious aspects o f Ottoman
Islam, has m uch potential to p rovide n ew insights into and con n ection s b etw een hitherto
separate historiographical p rob lem s.15
A t the core o f m y in vestigation are tw o fam ous references to the sam e ep isod e o f the
Prophet’s political and m ilitary career - the exp ed ition to M ecca w h ich resulted in the

13 See G. Hagen, ‘Salvation and Suffering in Ottoman Stories of the Prophets’, Mizan, 2 (2017):
http://www.mizanproject.org/journal-post/salvation-and-suffering-in-ottoman-stories-of-the-
Prophets/.
14 G. Hagen, ‘Dreaming Osmans: Of History and Meaning’, in Dreams and Visions in Islamic
Societies, ed. A. Knysh and Ô. Felek (Albany 2012); C. Fleischer, ‘The Lawgiver as Messiah:
The Making of the Imperial Image in the Reign of Süleymân’, in Soliman le magnifique et son
temps, ed. G. Veinstein (Paris 1992). There are many more examples.
15 My exploration owes much to my numerous conversations with Ethan Menchinger, whose
study of Ahmed Vâsif Efendi (d. 1806) could not be consulted in time for this study, but will
add much to this discussion: E. L. Menchinger, The First o f the Modern Ottomans (Cambridge
2017).
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 291

Treaty o f al-H udaybiyya16 in the year 6 after the Hijra: the first is P e ç e v î’s (d. c. 1649/50)
account o f a fatw a obtained by S elim II in anticipation o f the conquest o f Cyprus in 1570,
the secon d is N aim a’s (d. 1716) fam ous introduction to his chronicle, in w h ich he uses
the H udaybiyya ep isod e to ju stify the p eace treaty o f K arlovitz in 1699.17 T h ese tw o in­
stances stand out as truly exceptional am ong the canonical Ottom an historical literature.
I am not aware o f others, although a system atic parsing o f texts rem ains to be conducted.
N evertheless, for the purposes o f this paper, th ese tw o instances are also su fficiently
different to m ake a larger point, esp ecia lly w hen contextualized not only in their respec­
tive socio-p olitical settings, but also in regard to the w ider literature about the life o f the
Prophet, w hich im plicitly or exp licitly served as the source o f information.

The Case: al-H udaybiyya

In the sixth year after his em igration to Yathrib, the Prophet M uham m ad spontaneously
decided to m ake a “lesser pilgrim age ( 'umra)” to the K a ‘ba in M ecca, setting in m otion
a chain o f events w hich included dramatic setbacks, but ultim ately led to the surrender
o f M ecca to the triumphant B e lie v er s.18 The pivotal m om ent in this chain o f even ts was
the peace agreem ent con clud ed b etw een B eliev ers and M eccans at a locality not far from
M ecca, know n as al-H udaybiyya. Since the story is com plicated, a detailed summary
based on the classical sources is in order.19
A pproaching M ecca w ith a large group o f fo llo w ers and sacrificial anim als, but only
lightly armed, the B elievers soon found their path block ed by superior forces from the
Quraysh, until they w ere show n secret passages to al-H udaybiyya, w here they camped.
That the Prophet’s cam el here stopped in its tracks and refused to m ove further w as un­
derstood as a sign from God; another m iracle expanded the available water so that every
B eliever cou ld quench his thirst.20 Several en v o y s from M ecca arrived at the cam p, to
learn that the B elievers w ere on ly seek in g to perform the pilgrim age, but w ere not in­
tending to fight. U pon their return to M ecca the en v o y s also co n v ey ed to the Quraysh
the degree o f dedication to the Prophet that they had observed am ong the B eliev ers. At
one point, Uthm an b. A ffan, M uham m ad’s father-in-law, w as sent to the city to negotiate
w ith the Quraysh; w hen he w as held back rumors spread am ong the B elievers that he had
been killed. In the m idst o f this drama, afraid o f an attack by the superior Quraysh, the
B elievers gathered under a tree to sw ear an oath o f allegian ce (bay 'at al-ridwân) to the

16 In the interests of consistency, I continue to render the names of the Arab protagonists in their
Arabic, rather than Ottoman, form.
17 I am indebted to Baki Tezcan, who drew my attention to the first instance, while my presenta­
tion during the Halcyon Days was focused on the second.
18 The term is taken from F. McGraw Donner, Muhammad and the Believers (Cambridge MA
2010).
19 Needless to say, this does not imply any statement about the factuality or veracity of this nar­
rative, which is besides the point for our purposes.
20 The behavior of the camel is compared by the sources to that of the elephant of Abraha, the
subject of Sura 105 al-Fil.
292 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

faith and the Prophet. Ultimately, however, the Quraysh chose to negotiate, and agreed
to a ten-year truce stipulating that the Believers would retreat this time, but would be
allowed to perform the pilgrimage the following year. For the Believers, this was half
a victory at best; additional stipulations about alliances with the other tribes, and about
the return o f converts to their communities blatantly disadvantaged them. Moreover, the
Quraysh humiliated them in the process o f drafting the written agreement by rejecting the
basmala formula in the opening along with the identification o f Muhammad as ‘messen­
ger o f Allah as contrary to their belief and hence inappropriate in a treaty between equals.
For Umar, the humiliation was so deep that it led him doubt the justness o f Muhammad’s
cause. That Muhammad, complying with the agreement he had just signed, promptly
handed a convert who had escaped from Mecca back over to his pagan father, although
the latter had tortured the young man, shook the community’s confidence in his wisdom
to the core. The emerging crisis o f legitimacy came to a head when after all this the Be­
lievers ignored the Prophet’s command to shave their heads and perform the sacrifice,
a moment close to a silent mutiny which was only overcome when Muhammad’s wife
Umm Salama advised him to go ahead with the sacrifice, rightly predicting that the com­
munity would follow his example. After the sacrifice, the Believers returned to Medina.
Ultimately, however, the truce allowed the Believers to refocus their military efforts
on the fortress o f Khaybar, which they took in the following year. In the year 8, a long­
standing feud between the tribes o f K huza'a and Banu Bakr, allied with Believers and
Quraysh respectively, flared up again, and the fact that a few Quraysh joined the fray on
the side o f Bakr, leaving several men o f K huza'a dead, was enough o f a pretext for the
Believers to declare the truce broken. However, in the two years since al-Hudaybiyya,
the balance o f power had shifted decisively, so that the Quraysh found no way to either
restore the truce or mount a defense, and ultimately had to surrender Mecca to Muham­
mad and his followers.
All early Islamic sources struggle with the hermeneutical challenge o f integrating
this episode into Islamic salvation history.21 Other military events had a clear message:
the victory at Badr (year 2) appears as a miraculous escape from what looked like cer­
tain defeat, and legends o f angels fighting with the Believers abound. By contrast, the
catastrophe at Uhud the following year is typically framed as a cautionary tale against
greed for booty, and a call for unity. Al-Hudaybiyya was more difficult. Miracle stories
integrated into the narrative indicate that everything occurred with divine blessing: Sura
48 Al-Fath (The Victory) is typically associated with this event. One interpretive strat­
egy is to present the events at al-Hudaybiyya as a moral victory that distinguishes true
believers from infidels, culminating in the oath under the tree; the other sees the retreat
simply as a strategic detour to imminent victory in the form o f the conquests o f Khaybar

21 Ibn Ishaq provided most of the material for al-Tabari, while the most detailed account is to be
found in al-Waqidi. These are accessible in English translation: A. Guillaume, The Life o f Mu­
hammad. A Translation o f Ibn Ishaq’s Sirat Rasul Allah (Oxford 1955), 499-508; The Histo­
ry o f al-Tabari Vol. VIII: The Victory o f Islam, trans. M. Fischbein (Albany 1997), 67-91; R.
Faizer, The Life o f Muhammad. Al-Waqidi’s Kitab al-Maghazi (London 2010), 280-311.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 293

and Mecca. Such efforts, however, do not easily resolve the profound inherent tensions
in the story, dealing with reversals o f fortune, doubt, suffering, and redemption. Thus it
lends itself to radically different narrations, depending on whether the focus is on divine
pre-ordainment, prophetic foreknowledge, or Muhammad’s diplomatic farsightedness,
not to mention aspects o f individual or communal piety.
In the sections which follow, I will discuss crucial motifs o f the story that lend them­
selves to moral and political interpretations, and I will highlight the various exegetical
strategies apparent in Ottoman versions o f the text, in order to provide the backdrop
against which the political interpretations are deployed. It is important to point out, how­
ever, that Ottoman authors o f sïra texts tend to preserve much more o f the multilayered
character o f the narrative in the classical sources.22

Lessons fo r the Subjects : Obedience, Trust, and Piety

The contrast between the infidel Quraysh and the piety o f M uhammad’s followers sup­
plies an initial object lesson. Mustafa Darir, writing late in the fourteenth century, excori­
ates the stubbornness and blindness o f the Quraysh that led them to reject M uhammad’s
message.23 By contrast, the dedication o f the Believers is expressed in their eagerness to
hold on to body parts o f the Prophet, such as hair from his head or beard, or to imbibe
water he had used for ablution, etc. Many Ottoman authors pick up on the theme, which
illustrates the importance they attribute to unconditional obedience and reverence for
the Prophet. The classical sources have a member o f the Quraysh report these acts to his
fellow-tribesmen, stating that this level o f dedication exceeds anything he had seen at
the imperial courts o f Byzantium, Iran, and Ethiopia.24 None o f the Ottomans, however,
seems to be particularly interested in the fact that these comparisons put the Prophet
on the same level as the emperors o f the time. Instead, they see a sign o f spiritual com­
mitment to a prophet as a model saint. This saint demonstrates his power by a series of
miracles, primarily those that remedy suffering or the needs o f his followers. As will be

22 Even they, however, tend to filter out details which serve, for instance, either genealogical
agendas or as precedents for legal or ritual rules.
23 On him and the other texts discussed in this chapter see my overview of Ottoman sïra litera­
ture: G. Hagen, ‘Sira, Ottoman Turkish’, in Muhammad in History, Thought, and Culture. An
Encyclopedia o f the Prophet o f God, ed. C. Fitzpatrick and A. H. Walker (Santa Barbara 2014).
In the absence of a critical edition, I am here relying on the modem Turkish version by Gür-
tunca, which however preserves fairly well the critical interpretive poems, Darir’s most origi­
nal contribution to what is otherwise often a translation of an older Arabic text: Mustafa Darir,
Kitab-i Siyer-i Nebi, ed. M. F. Giirtunca (Istanbul 1995). The poems are edited on the basis of
manuscripts by E. Egiiz, ‘Erzurumlu Mustafa Darîr’in Sîretü’n-Nebî’sindeki Türkçe Manzu-
meler (inceleme-Metin)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, T.C. istanbul Oniversitesi, 2013.
24 E.g., Waqidi 294, repeated in the world history of Müneccimbaçi (Ahmed b. Liltfullah
Müneccimbaçi, Sahaifü’l-ahbar (Istanbul H.1285/1868), 1:183-184), a context strongly fo­
cused on the military aspect of the episode, but in the absence of any exegetical intervention by
the author, it is hard to claim that this specific motive should be read as exclusively political.
 294 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

recalled, the miracles in question have no bearing on the political-military dimension of

the story, but they leave no doubt that here as everywhere else the Prophet was acting
with divine approval.25
For Darir, devotion to the Prophet is paramount, meaning not only recognizing him
with the ‘inner eye’ o f gnosis, but trusting in the superior wisdom o f his actions, in
contrast with the blindness o f the Quraysh (111:431). Blindness befalls not only infidels,
but also believers, including some with the strongest hearts. This is true despite the
‘oath o f allegiance’ that the Believers have sworn to Muhammad under the tree (bay 'at
al-ridwan). Taking a cue from ‘U m ar’s doubting o f Muhammad’s wisdom and author­
ity, Darir expounds how the true benefit o f a situation (in this case, the actions o f God
through his messenger) is hidden, so that man is bound to mistake good for evil, and
evil for good. Confidence in God and abstention from scrutiny is the only path open to
the inadequate intellect, which resembles the blindness o f the author (Darir, in Turkish
rendered as gôzsüz, meaning blind; 111:452-453). That every action o f the Prophet in
this episode, as everywhere else, was divinely inspired and thus beyond question and
reproach, ultimately renders the ‘political’ dimension o f the story moot. Darir de facto
insulates this episode against attempts to learn from Muhammad by showing that scru­
tinizing the Prophet’s actions is not helpful for the enlightenment o f the believer, but an
act o f impiety. As a whole, however, the paucity o f commenting poetry in this section,
which closely follows the account o f Ibn Ishaq, indicates that the episode was not o f
major interest for Darir.
Yusuf N abî’s (1642-1712) continuation o f Veysî’s (d. 1628) fragmentary biography
o f the Prophet, Diirretii 't-tac, The Crown-Jewel, takes the same m otif in a different direc­
tion. Both Veysî’s and N abî’s works breath the same mystical spirit, written in the most
elaborate irisa prose, cloaking every event in an aura of a mythical tempus illud.26 Absent
interpretive poems in the style o f Darir, it is almost impossible to pinpoint specific ele­
ments o f particular interest to N abî in the Hudaybiyya narrative, but clearly he too is
drawn to the dramatic features o f the story, the tension in the confrontation o f Believers
and the Quraysh, and the struggle o f the Believers with the apparent humiliation in the
negotiations over the treaty text and the subsequent return o f a Believer to his Mec­
can tormentors. The emotional turmoil which culminated in Um ar’s outcry “Aren’t you
the true Prophet, aren’t we right, and aren’t our enemies wrong?” (a-lasta nabiya llahi
haqqan wa-lasnâ 'alâ l-haqq wa-aduwwunâ 'alâ l-bâtif) resonates with N abî’s anxiet­
ies about spiritual fulfillment and his individualistic quest for truth in personal life.27 At
the same time, by narrating the divine signs along the way, Nabî leaves no doubt that

25 E.g., Lamiî Çelebi, §evahid-i niibiiwe (Istanbul H.1293/1876), 111:41-43. As the title of his
work indicates, Lamiî (d. 1532) selects only miracles as proof of prophethood from the mate­
rial.
26 Yusuf Nabî, Zeyi-i siyer-i nebevî [Zeyl-i siyer-i Veysi] (Bulaq 1240). Nabî’s work is the first
original Ottoman work of the genre to include this episode, all other works in Ottoman Turkish
being translations from Arabic or Persian.
27 On Nabî’s worldview see M. Mengi, Divan çiirinde hikemî tarzin biiyiik temsilcisi Nâbî (An­
kara 1991), especially 113-129.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 295

God was guiding the Prophet and the community in this endeavor.28 Given his skepti­
cism vis-à-vis political power and state offices, as expressed in his poem o f advice to his
young son (Hayriye), it is not surprising that he, like his predecessors, makes no perceiv­
able attempt to explore the potential political implications o f a story o f blind surrender
to the authority a charismatic political-military leader. While Nabî, in an Ode to Peace
(.Sulhiye), celebrated the peace treaty o f Karlowitz, which is the focus o f N aim a’s use of
al-Hudaybiyya, he does not mention the Prophet in it.29
Darir, Nabî, and many other Ottoman authors asked their audiences to adopt the
perspective o f the Believers: their situation is comparable to Umar and the others who
struggled to accept the concessions made to the pagans and the appearance o f weakness
o f the Believers. Like followers o f a Sufi sheikh, but also o f any pre-modem ruler, they
should not think o f themselves as having either the permission or the capability to chal­
lenge an inspired authority. We see that the pious can derive lessons from the sir a which
go beyond questions o f emulating the Prophet, as we had assumed before. While the
identification with the perspective o f the companions is present in many accounts, it is
increasingly eclipsed in later accounts, especially by a direct identification with the key
decision-maker and his political calculations.

Imagining Diplomacy
That parsing this episode (or any other in the sTra in general) in search o f a model in the
pursuit o f military or political success was even a desirable way o f reading sïra in the
early modem period is far from clear. In the sixteenth century, Lamiî offered a poignant
message: when Ali objects to the Meccan envoy’s demands to remove M uhammad’s
name from the treaty document, Muhammad enjoins him to comply by pointing out that
he, Ali, will be in the same situation after the battle o f Siffin (657 CE), when Caliph
M u'awiya refused to recognize Ali as Commander o f the Believers (amir al-mu ’minln).
Rightful claims to power, Ali has to leam, may have to cede to forceras political power
is transient and treacherous.30
The historian Müneccimbaçi (d. 1702) adopted a different strategy in taking the polit­
ical edge off the events o f the Prophet’s life. Rather than replicating a coherent narrative
o f the period within his world history, he chose to break it down according to a number
o f categories, among which raids and war constitute only one. The bare-bones outline of
essential facts containing no trace o f the drama and no moral lesson may have functioned
primarily as a mnemonic device to help an educated reader to recall a more detailed nar­

28 Nabî, Zeyl, 133; the Prophet’s camel is compared to the elephant of Abraha.
29 Nabî’s politics are discussed by H. Yorulmaz, Dîvân edebiyatinda Nabî ekolü. Eski çiirde
hikemiyat (Istanbul 1996), 295-344. On his Hayriye see M. Kaplan, Hayriyye-i Nabî (Anka­
ra 2008), on his Ode to Peace see M. Kaplan, ‘Bir Çairin Bança Teçekkürü. Nâbî’nin Sulhi-
yye Kasidesi’ http://mahmutkaplanl.tripod.com/sulhiyye_kasidesi.htm and Bayram Rahimgu-
liyev, ‘Osmanh Edebiyatinda Dôniiçümün Çiiri: Sulhiyyeler’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation,
Bilkent Universitesi, 2007.
30 Lamiî Çelebi, Çevahid, 111:42; the same story also in Nabî, Zeyl, 144, and others.
296 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

rative from a more detailed slra source. It is in fact as if Miineccimba§i was doing only
the minimum because he was aware o f Ibn Miskawayh’s argument above - or had come
to a similar conclusion, which however he does not articulate explicitly.31
One o f the key motifs o f the narratives is the issue o f negotiation, making conces­
sions in order to obtain a larger good which is not accessible otherwise, possibly creating
dilemmas for the negotiator. W hat then was the greater good Ottoman authors saw the
Prophet obtaining? In the war-tom and war-weary seventeenth century, peace might have
been such a good, and we saw that Nabî wrote in praise o f peace after 1699, but his sir a
was written much earlier, even before the disastrous Ottoman campaign o f 1683. Nabî
devotes a great deal o f language to the conclusion o f a peace treaty, but the fact that he
elsewhere also celebrates the Prophet’s victories on the battlefield should warn the se­
lective reader against declaring Nabî a pacifist. Rather, the notion o f peace has a strong
interior dimension, as a personal and individual experience, and the fact that this peace
was the result o f a military endeavor (gazve-i sulhengiz-i Hudeybiye) was not lost on
him. Still, in assuming primarily the perspective o f the believer, and resisting presentist
referents in its wealth o f metaphorical language, this version, too, eschews the potential
political dimension.
The reluctance to read the slra through contemporary experiences and explain it in
presentist terms fades in the course o f the eighteenth century, changing the interest in the
negotiation process at al-Hudaybiyya, and shifting the identification o f the reader from
the community o f Believers to the Prophet himself. One example is the narrative com­
mentary on a mnemonic poem about the Prophet’s life which was presented to Sultan Se­
lim III (r. 1789-1807) by the philologist and translator Âsim Efendi, known as Miitercim
Âsim (d. 1819). Every line o f the original poem (by Ibrahim b. Mustafa al-Halabï) corre­
sponds to one year in the life o f the Prophet, enumerating the important events, which are
then elaborated on in  sim ’s commentary. Taking many cues from Nabî, Âsim maintains
the moralistic contrast between the depravity o f the Quraysh and the devotion o f the
Believers, and the miraculous events (although without comment), but, in comparison
with his predecessors, downplays the humiliating aspects o f the negotiations with the
Quraysh. More importantly, Âsim expands his poetic vocabulary by introducing the lan­
guage o f diplomacy into his description o f the negotiations. While still couched in high
poetic style, these terms may be a reflection o f his own experience in this realm, as well
as in his other profession as official historian.32 This nascent realism points to an increas­
ing tendency to normalize the person o f the Prophet in a larger history, by describing him
and his context in concepts familiar to the readership from their own experiences.
This trend towards historicization is on full display in the last Ottoman classic o f the
genre, Cevdet Pasha’s (1823-1895) Kisasii’l-enbiya.33 On the one hand, Cevdet aban­
dons the refinements o f Ottoman artistic prose for a distinctly popular tone; on the other
hand, he clearly wants his readers to understand the rise o f Islam through contemporary

31 Müneccimbaçi, Sahaifü’l-ahbar, 1:183-185.

32 Ahmed (Miitercim) Âsim, Tercüme-i Siyer-i Halebi (Cairo H. 1249/1833), 183-194.
33 Ahmed Cevdet Paça, Kisas-i enbiya ve tevarih-i hulefa (Istanbul H.1291/1874).
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 297

concepts, in other words, he brings the narrative into the present, and in the most blatant
way by referring to the Believers as an “imperial army” (ordu-yi hiimayun, 345). As
part o f the new realism, Cevdet regularly intersperses the original narrative, believed
to largely derive from Ibn Kathir, with explanations o f the local conditions the Prophet
as the crucial decision-maker was facing, illustrating the constraints and exigencies of
the moment which made the truce a necessity. For Cevdet, even the most problematic
concessions resulted from necessity, as M uhammad lacked the power to force a different
outcome ( çaresiz). The truce thus appears as appropriate (mukteza-yi akl u hikmet, 355).
At this point, we can state that Ottoman sïra literature furnishes multiple lessons from
the al-Hudaybiyya episode, but these lessons are initially more concerned with morality
and personal piety than with imagining the political quandary o f the expedition. While
later accounts clearly take more interest in a historical contextualization o f the story, cast­
ing the Prophet as a political and military leader, none o f them appears to draw any direct
connections between current or recent history and the events o f the sïra. That they make
this connection explicitly and directly, while drawing on the large pool o f sïra tradition,
including texts discussed above, is what makes the two instances to which we turn now
so remarkable.

Pushing fo r War
According to the chronicler tbrahim Peçevî (d. 1649?), in H.978/1570, the peace treaty
with Venice was frequently disrupted by pirates based in Cyprus who harassed travelers
and merchants between Constantinople and Cairo, until the Sultan felt it behooved him and
his honor to launch a campaign against them (gayret ve namus-i padiçahî muktezasmca).
In presenting the problem in this way, Peçevî seems to make a case that the Venetians
in Cyprus were the ones in violation o f the treaty, which technically would have been a
casus belli in itself. The Sultan did, however, also request a fatwa from the çeyhülislam,
Ebussuud, which Peçevî quotes in full, out o f reverence (teberriiken ve teyemmiineri),
pointing to the unusual process. The fatwa sets up a legal case for war by pointing to
previous Muslim sovereignty over the island:34

The matter is as follows: A land has previously been a part of the Abode of Islam (darul-is-
lâm), but was occupied by the abject infidels, who destroyed its colleges and mosques (medaris
ve mesacid) and left them vacant, and filled its pulpits and galleries with infidelity and error,
and intended to insult the religion of Islam with all kinds of vile deeds, and display their ugly
attitudes to the entire world. If [then] the Sultan, Refuge of Religion, in accordance with his
zeal for Islam, sets out and makes an effort to take the aforementioned lands from the infidels

34 Ibrahim Peçevî, Tarih-i Peçevî ([Istanbul] H.1283/1866), 1:486-487; the fatwa is also includ­
ed in the collections of Ebussuud’s fatwas: M. E. Düzdag, Çeyhülislâm Ebussuud Efendi’nin
fetvalarina gôre Kanunî devrinde Osmanli hayati: fetâvâ-yi Ebussu ’ûd Efendi (Istanbul 1998),
#478. My translation follows the text more closely than Imber’s (C. Imber, Ebu ’s-su 'ud: the Is­
lamic Legal Tradition (Edinburgh 1997), 84-85); partial translation also in V. L. Ménage, ‘The
English capitulation of 1580: A review article’, IJMES 12, (1980), 378.
298 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

to include it in the Abode of Islam, and if, when a peace treaty was concluded regarding other
lands in the hand of these infidels, and the aforementioned land was included in the treaty (ah-
dname) given to them, is there an impediment according to the Pure Sheriat against intending
to break that treaty?
Answer: There is no possibility that there would ever be an impediment. That the Sultan of Is­
lam - may God exalt his victories - would conclude a peace with the infidels is legal if there is
a benefit for all Muslims, and if there is no benefit the peace is never legal. Once a benefit has
been observed and peace35 has been concluded for a limited time or indefinitely, if in a propi­
tious moment breaking it appears more beneficial, then breaking it is definitely mandatory and
necessary. The Prophet Muhammad (may God bless him and give him peace) in the sixth year
of the Hijra concluded a treaty with the infidels of Mecca for ten years, and Ali (may God en­
noble his face) wrote a treaty document that was corroborated, but after the peace treaty was
confirmed, a year later it appeared to be more beneficial to break it. So in the eighth year of
the Hijra [the Prophet] attacked them, and conquered the Mighty City of Mecca. His Excellen­
cy the Caliph of the Lord of All Mankind (may God make his shadow over all the [groups of]
Muslims everlasting, and may he aid him with blessed assistance and clear victory) has in his
imperial determination taken guidance from the noble Sunna of the His Highness the Refuge
of Prophethood (may God bless him and give him peace),36 which will result in clear victory,
with the support of God the King and Helper.

As Ménage and Imber have pointed out, Ebussuud in his response did not engage the
argument o f hostile acts perpetrated by forces based on the island, or the notion o f actions
against Islam, two lines o f reasoning presented by the questioner, and clearly sufficient
as a casus belli. Instead he went much further and asserted not only a general right but an
obligation for the Sultan to break any peace treaty if the moment was considered oppor­
tune. As Imber states, this does no more than affirm the general Hanafi legal position.37 It
is noteworthy that Ebussuud so strongly highlights the validity o f the original document,
written by Ali, and confirmed again, because in his reasoning the matter is not that the
treaty might not have been formally correct; instead, highlighting the correct procedure
(in the language o f diplomacy), he makes the argument o f the Prophet’s prerogative to
break it even stronger. By extension, the Ottoman Sultan as Caliph would enjoy the same
prerogative to break treaties even when they were correctly enacted and valid.
Up to this point, we are dealing with a strictly legal argument: the legitimacy o f
a specific practice can be ascertained by pointing to a precedent in the practice o f the
Prophet. The fundamental principle o f deriving law from the practice o f the Prophet is
o f course that this Prophetic practice is exemplary, even binding, because it is based on
divine inspiration and guidance - in other words, the model is authoritative exactly be­
cause it is outside the realm o f human insight and capability. But Ebussuud does more:
in a concluding phrase he makes it clear that following the Prophet is not only righteous
but efficacious: it will lead to “obvious victory with the support o f God the King and

35 Peçevî om.
36 Peçevî’s rendering ends here with the formula ‘written by the poor Ebussuud’ (ketebehü ’l-fakir
Ebussuud, 487).
37 Imber, Ebu s-su 'ud: the Islamic Legal Tradition, 84-85.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 299

Helper” (müstetbi-ifeth-i mübindur bi-inayetillâhi ’l-meliki T-muiri)?i What is this prom­

ise o f a successful outcome based on? Is Ebussuud suggesting a historical analogy, just
as the Prophet’s breaking o f the peace treaty led to the conquest o f Mecca (by giving him
leeway to deal with the Arabian tribes and the Jews o f Khaybar), so the breaking o f this
treaty will also result in a victory for Islam, now in this situation for the Ottomans?3839 This
would be a more or less secular understanding o f historical causality, but we have reason
to believe that the causality attributed to the acts o f the Prophet and the Caliphs would be
different from the kind o f cause and effect that kings were looking for in historiography,
which, as argued previously, at one level functions as a repertoire o f just this kind o f tale,
so that kings could calibrate their decisions accordingly. Instead, Ebussuud predicts that
the Caliph would be rewarded with victory because God would come to his succor, just
as he had, in his wisdom, steered the Prophet through the seeming defeat to the trium­
phal conquests o f Khaybar and Mecca. This is evident from the pointed way in which
Ebussuud highlights that the Sultan is in fact the Caliph, and is emulating the Prophet.
Moreover, he promises not simply victory, but “clear victory” (fethiin mubïri), using a
Q ur’anic phrase from Sura 48 The Victory, a sura directly related in the sïra tradition to
the raid on al-Hudaybiyya. While the classical tradition and Q ur’anic exegesis, including
Ebussuud’s own tafsîr, have kept this idea o f victory wide open to multiple interpreta­
tions, the context o f the fatwa clearly speaks o f military victory.40
There is a risk o f over-interpreting this brief section, and making theological distinc­
tions where for an Ottoman reader the meaning is unified and self-evident. A t the very
least, however, these last words o f the fatwa blur the difference between an ahistorical
legal precedent and political advice based on historical, and hence contingent, experi­
ence.41 The Sultan is not simply a human being seeking to follow the law, or deriving
lessons from historical events, but as Caliph he is included in the sacred circle o f leaders
who are directly supported by God where they take the actions o f the Prophet as model
and inspiration. In other words, Ottoman history is sacralized through this connection.
As we shall see below, our second example implies ju st the opposite, as Naima integrates
aspects o f the Hudaybiyya episode into secular history.
Another aspect o f Ebussuud’s interpretation at this point at least merits mention. We
do not know through which tradition Ebussuud had studied the original sïra narrative
- sïra was not a separate part o f the medrese curriculum, so it is possible that his main
information came from the canonical hadith collections rather than a specific sïra text.

38 Why this phrase is absent from Peçevî’s rendering of the fatwa, otherwise authenticated by the
concluding formula, is not clear.
39 M. Lecker, ‘The Hudaybiyya-Treaty and the expedition against Khaybar’, Jerusalem Studies
in Arabic and Islam, 5 (1984).
40 Abu’s-su’ud, Tafsîr Abï s-su ‘üd aw irshâd al- aql al-salïm ilâ mazâyâ l-kitâb al-kartm (n. 1.:
Dar al-fikr, n.d.) V 595 ff, see also WâqidI, 304-307.
41 It is possible, in the absence of systematic manuscript research, that these last words are a com­
mentary by the fetva emini in charge of compiling the collection in question, or even by a later
copyist. Such a situation would not, however, invalidate my argument, because it would only
mean that it was another official, not Ebussuud, who harbored these same ideas.
300 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

Nevertheless, it is remarkable that the classical historical texts, Ibn Ishaq as transmitted
by Ibn Hisham, al-Tabari (also relying on Ibn Ishaq extensively), and al-Wâqidï, go to
considerable lengths to put the blame for the failure o f the truce on the Quraysh or their
allies, the Banu Bakr, while insisting that Muhammad meticulously fulfilled his obliga­
tions. How the Meccans feared that the violation o f the stipulations o f the truce would al­
low Muhammad to cancel the agreement, and how the Meccan leader Abu Sufyan came
to Medina to salvage it are integral elements o f the narrative. Ebussuud, however, seems
to have none o f this as he sweepingly asserts that the Prophet broke the treaty not because
it had been violated, but because the prospect was advantageous. Again, Muhammad
could have known this simply as a talented statesman, but in Ebussuud’s thought, I sug­
gest, this foreknowledge was part o f his prophetic inspiration. Thus, it is again prophetic
charisma that allows him (and by extension his successor, the Ottoman Sultan qua Ca­
liph) to act decisively and achieve a benefit for the Believers.

Seeking Peace
In comparison to Ebussuud’s one-page fatwa, N aim a’s elaboration on the al-Hudaybiyya
episode is much longer, and takes a prominent place in the introduction to his chroni­
cle.42 This introduction has been famously studied by L. V. Thomas, who recognized its
unique character as a philosophical engagement with history, and as a political argument
in its time.43 Yet, focusing on N aim a as an Ottoman rather than an Islamic intellectual,
Thomas did not delve deeper into the textual details o f Naima’s representation o f the
events at al-Hudaybiyya, misleadingly stating that Naima “reproduces in full a recent,
highly esteemed version - that given by N a b f’.44 In fact, Naima treats N abî’s text rather
selectively, which enables him to distill from it a pointed argument which we did not find
in the original in this form. Our explorations above have now put us in a position to add
nuance and scope to the context and meaning o f this fascinating text.
As is well known, N aim a’s work is formally a history o f the Ottoman Empire from
the millennium forward. The passage that is relevant for us appears in an extensive intro­
duction designed to make an elaborate argument for the study o f history as the source of
wisdom and leadership, and specifically in defense o f Naima's patron Amcazade Hiiseyin
Pasha, the Grand Vizier from the Kôprülü family who negotiated the peace treaty of
Karlovitz in 1699, in which the Ottomans had to make major, in fact unprecedented, con­

42 Mustafa Naima, Tarih-i Naima: Ravzatü’l-Hüseyn f i Hulâsati Ahbâri’l-Hâfikayn (Istanbul

H.1281/1864), 1:13-26.
43 L. V. Thomas, A Study ofN a ’ima, ed. N. Itzkowitz (New York 1972), 65-124.
44 Thomas, A Study ofNa 'ima, 71 ; the beginning of the chapter in Nabî’s work indicates [Ahmad
b. Muhammad] al-Qastallani (d. 1517) as the main source; however, the corresponding passage
in al-Qastallani, both in the Arabic original and in the Turkish translation by Baki, has nothing
in common with what Nabî is presenting. The significance of this misidentification remains a
mystery to me [Ahmad b. Muhammad (al-) Qastallani, al-Mawâhib al-ladunïya bi-al-minah
al-Muhammadtya (Beirut 1991); [Mahmud Abdülbakî] Bakî, Mevahib-i ledünîye tercümesi
mealimü’l-yakin (Istanbul H.1261)].
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 301

cessions to the Habsburgs. This introduction, more than sixty pages in print, addresses
the nature and benefits o f history, historiography, and leadership, borrowing from Kâtip
Çelebi, Ibn Khaldun, and Kmahzade Ali. It opens, however, right after a dedication and
an explanation o f the historian’s craft, with a narration o f the episode o f al-Hudaybiyya,
as an instructive analogy o f Karlowitz.45
This section is entitled: ‘About truce with the kings o f the infidels and peace with the
factions o f the Christians on all sides, for the sake o f order in the lands and the prosperity
o f the servants [of God]’.46 Thus, it is clear from the outset that where Ebussuud pushed
for war, Naima is doing the exact opposite, that is, utilizing the same historical event
as an argument for peace. O f course, political circumstances were different: no longer
buoyed by military success, the Ottomans had been on the retreat since the catastrophic
failure o f the siege o f Vienna in 1683. While it may be obvious in hindsight that the peace
treaty o f Karlowitz in 1699 was the only political and military option for the Ottomans
to regain their footing, there appears to have been a strong pro-war faction at the court
and in the elite. The urgency o f N aim a’s argument clearly speaks to a need to push back
against strong opposition to the treaty and the larger policy pursued by the viziers o f the
Kôprülü family at the time. On the other hand, Ottoman poets, Nabî among them, had
celebrated the treaty in poems known as Sulhiye, Ode to Peace.47
What Naim a is presenting, however, is not a legal argument claiming that peace with
the infidels is permissible, a point that had already been affirmed implicitly in Ebussuud’s
fatwa. A rich literature o f fatwas throughout the late sixteenth and the seventeenth cen­
turies reflects constant legal engagement between Ottomans and their Christian adver­
saries.48 If the term for peace, sulh, strictly speaking, refers to a stable political situation
in which a non-Muslim state submits to a Muslim power and agrees to pay tribute, this
is not the case for Naima, who uses sulh interchangeably with muhadene or muvadaa,
which suggest temporarily halted hostilities.49 In one instance, Naima even cautions
against taking al-Hudaybiyya as a legal precedent when it comes to returning recent
converts to their non-Muslim state o f origin (1:20). Ultimately, however, his point was
not that the treaty o f al-Hudaybiyya was legally ‘correct’ or ‘permissible’, but that it was
necessary, advisable, and advantageous.
This is not to say that N aim a’s support for the peace was the result o f a pacifist in­
clination, as he clearly was not imagining an ideal state o f global peace along the lines
o f Immanuel K ant’s Zum ewigen Frieden (Perpetual Peace) written later in the same

45 Thomas, A Study ofN a ’ima, 68-69.

46 Naima, Tarih, I 12, cf. Thomas, A Study o fN a ’ima.
47 In addition to Rahimguliyev, ‘Sulhiyyeler’, see Ali Fuat Bilkan, ‘Iki Sulhiyye Içigmda Osmanli
Toplumunda Banç Ôzlemi’. https://www.tarihtarih.com/?SyU26&Syz=384647.
48 H. Kriiger, Fetwa und Siyar: Zur internationalrechtlichen Gutachtenpraxis der osmanischen
§eyh ül-Islâm vom 17. bis 19 Jahrhundert unter besonderer Berücksichtigung des ‘‘Behcet ül-
Fetâvâ ” (Wiesbaden 1978); see also the forthcoming book by J. M. White, Piracy and Law in
the Ottoman Mediterranean (Stanford 2017).
49 V. Panaite, The Ottoman Law o f War and Peace: The Ottoman Empire and Tribute Payers
(Boulder 2000), 233-263.
302 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

century. N aim a’s rhetoric, inspired by (or copied from) Nabî, idealized the peace treaty
as something pure and sacred, when he speaks o f the ‘newly-wed bride of peace, whose
ring and jewelry should not be cut by the file o f treason’; the pitcher o f peace has washed
off the dirt o f war.50 Taking advantage o f the shared Arabic root, Naima like many earlier
authors describes peace (sulh) as benefit (maslaha). However, Naima finds that the ill­
ness o f hostility of the Quraysh could only be cured by the sword, and quotes the Prophet
explaining to Umar that the final purpose o f the treaty is to “provide medicine which will
cure every aspect o f the temperament o f the world from the gross substance o f unbelief
and idolatry” (1:24). In a different metaphor, he states that the sapling (nihal) o f the peace
bore fruit in the conquest o f Mecca three years later (1:26), as announced in Sura 48
(al-Fath) o f the Q ur’an. Thus, Naim a makes no attempt to claim that the treaty will be
anything but temporary, if the analogy is taken seriously.
The example o f al-Hudaybiyya sets N aim a’s readers up for an extended analogy be­
tween the early Believers and the Ottomans, and, by the same token, the Quraysh and
the Austrians. The same stark moral difference between the two parties applies in either
case. From this point of view, Ottoman readers could also take consolation in the fact
that the Quraysh refusing to recognize the Prophet’s mission in the protocol o f the treaty
did not have any significance, but was purely about words (niza-i lâfzî müntic-i mâna
olmamagm).51 While Naima does not highlight the oath o f allegiance under the tree,
he emphasizes another instance where the dedication o f M uhammad’s followers is key,
compelling the Quraysh to seek peace (1:18-19). Transferred to the Ottoman situation,
this would imply a moral obligation for the Ottoman elite to stand behind the Sultan. But
M uhammad’s reminder to Ali o f the humiliation at Siffin is quoted by Naima, too, show­
ing that despite the victory for the righteous cause, the story should not serve to glorify
worldly power.

Learning from (Secular) History

All along, Naima presents the entire episode as an event embedded in the same history
as all the other kings and caliphs from whom Ottoman advice literature drew its object
lessons. His rhetoric can again help to make this point: like Mütercim Âsim and Ahmed
Cevdet after him, Naim a borrows from the terminology o f diplomacy and international
relations to describe the negotiations between the Meccans and the Quraysh, making
them appear like a process familiar to his readership. He does not dispute that Muham­
mad had better insight (hikmet) into the political situation o f his time, and was therefore
able to make decisions which even his most dedicated followers - like Umar - were un­
able to arrive at by themselves (1:13, 15).52 But despite his preternatural qualities, these
insights were accessible to reason, and could be communicated and adopted by others;
in other words, they were valid models for ordinary humans as well. In his dedication to

50 Naima, Tarih, 1:24, see Nabî, Zeyl, 145.

51 Nabî, Zeyl, 144, Naima, Tarih, 1:22.
52 Hikmet in such contexts typically connotes a meaning which is not self-evident.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 303

Amcazade Htiseyin Pasha, Naima had explicitly praised his knowledge and understand­
ing o f history (1:3), which, as we know, is an Ottoman author’s way o f expressing the
expectation that the patron will adopt the lessons from the history book being presented
to him.
But how could Amcazade Hüseyin Pasha actually follow N aim a’s advice and learn
from the case o f al-Hudaybiyya? Was Naima being oblivious o f Ibn M iskawayh’s caveat
that an inspired leader like the Prophet would be unsuitable as an example in history?
Naima concludes the section with a passage which departs from Nabî, and any other sïra
author known to me. In fact, the passage constitutes one o f those rare crystallizing points
o f intellectual innovation in Ottoman letters:

This event full of admonition is described in detail in the books of the Prophet’s biography
(kütüb-i siyer). To the intelligent and enlightened it is no secret that the Knower of the Secrets
of the Universe (most noble greetings unto him) did not accede to the wishes of the enemies be­
cause of weakness and coercion - God forbid! Rather, this Sultan of the Throne of Right Guid­
ance (peace by upon him) intended to teach his blessed community, by way of instruction, to
comply with the appearances of the possible causes and furthering affairs gradually. The light
of the exalted sunna of this Sun of the Orient of Prophethood and the works of his laudable sïra
are exhaustive hints at the firm road and sufficient guidance to the straight path. Those thirsty
of heart lost in the desert of confusion find the fountainhead of knowledge with the help of the
narrations of his deeds.53

As we have seen in the summary o f the classical sources, the narrative o f al-Hu-
daybiyya was so compelling partly because it showed the Prophet as limited by human
constraints, like the lack o f military power, the negotiating skills o f the Quraysh, or the
feeble-spiritedness o f some o f his followers. Similarly, some o f the early legal literature
had taken this episode as an example to argue that the Believers were justified in negotiat­
ing with the infidels if they lacked the power to impose their domination.54 Later Islamic
prophetology, however, has elevated the Prophet to a saintly figure in whom divine om­
nipotence becomes manifest through his miracles. On this assumption, the idea that the
Prophet lacked the power to impose his inspired will would be tantamount to blasphemy.
Naima is, as far as I can see, the only author to acknowledge this theological dilemma of
squaring the account o f the event with the dogma. This in and o f itself is remarkable as
an attempt to overcome the compartmentalized discourses o f law, history, and theology,
and to bring all o f them to bear on the same single empirical reality. Such unification
was not always to be had without conflict: in the mid seventeenth century Sufis vehe­
mently rejected ideas that, based on simple chronology, the parents o f the Prophet must
have been pagans. In this case, the dogma o f the Prophet’s saintliness required saintly
descent, and could not be reconciled with what the historians might have considered
self-evident.55 In a thought-provoking study, Thomas Bauer has argued that pre-modem

53 Naima, Tarih, 1:26.

54 M. Khadduri, War and Peace in the Law o f Islam (Baltimore 1955), 134.
55 J. Dreher, ‘Une polémique à Istanbul au XVIIe siècle. Les parents du prophète étaient-ils mu-
304 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

Islamic culture was characterized by a high tolerance o f ambiguity, which subsequently

was lost under colonialism and modernization.56 What Naima (and the debate about the
Prophet’s parents) is showing us may be an indication that the tolerance of ambiguity was
already decreasing in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, which explains why he
felt compelled to resolve it explicitly with a dialectical trick, as he declared the absence
o f a miraculous solution for the crisis intentional.57
As a result, Naim a successfully reversed Ibn M iskawayh’s objection to an exemplary
character o f the Prophet’s political and military exploits. It had been based on the fact
that prophetological dogma placed the Prophet outside o f the regular experience o f cause
and effect in political matters. As was mentioned in the introduction to this article, Otto­
man advice literature operated in largely secular terms: advice can only function where
there is predictability, and prediction is contingent on regular relations o f cause and ef­
fect.58 Treating subjects unjustly will cause them to rebel, but acts o f unbelief do not have
a comparable, predictable effect. The oft-quoted saying that “the world does not come to
an end because o f unbelief but because o f injustice” expresses the quintessence o f this
secular approach to history and government.59 In contrast with Ebussuud, Naima needed
to minimize the relevance o f M uhammad’s sainthood. He achieved it by declaring that
the Prophet intentionally refrained from calling down a miracle to win an easy victory,
and thus inserted the political events o f the s'ira, and al-Hudaybiyya in particular, into the
repertoire o f historical object lessons.
The lessons adduced apply, for Naima, at two different levels. Strictly pragmatically,
the entire episode makes a case for accepting the peace treaty o f Karlowitz o f 1699. By
analogy to al-Hudaybiyya, it might advisable to conclude a peace treaty with the infidels
as a tactical move, and such a treaty would not be an obstacle, but rather a means to future
victory. But there is a larger argument which dovetails with the ‘secularizing’ tendencies
o f classical advice literature by explicitly directing his audience to rely on ‘the means at
hand’ as the only plausible way to deal with a political crisis.60 The argument that politi­
cal action needed to be based on regular observations o f cause and effect had been made
half a century earlier by Kâtip Çelebi, whose political thinking is reflected in multiple
ways in N aim a’s work. Kâtip Çelebi’s history o f the naval wars o f the Ottomans is evi­
dently a call for reform, written under the immediate impression o f the weakness o f the
navy in the war against Venice and the threat o f a Venetian attack on Constantinople in

sulmans?’, in Le soufisme à l ’époque ottomane, XVIe-XVIIIe siècle, ed. R. Chih and C. May-
eur-Jaouen (Cairo 2010).
56 Bauer, Die Kultur der Ambiguitat. Eine andere Geschichte des Islams. For Bauer those pro­
cesses are not the main focus, but they appear to be conceived mainly as extraneous forces.
57 The weak spot of his argument is that the Prophet’s intention is nowhere stated explicitly.
58 The argument is similarly made by Bauer; in identifying such ‘secular’ ideas already in the Is­
lamic middle period, Bauer pre-empts another problematic search for an Islamic secular mo­
dernity avant la lettre.
59 G. Hagen, ‘World Order and Legitimacy’, in Legitimizing the Order: Ottoman Rhetoric of
State Power, ed. M. Reinkowski and H. Karateke (Leiden 2005).
60 Thomas, A Study o f Na ’ima, 69-71.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 305

1656. Like Naima, Kâtip Çelebi had to engage a dogma that undercut notions o f causal­
ity, in his case, occasionalism. Occasionalism as espoused by Ashari theology claimed
that sufficient causes could not determine an effect, which would be an infringement on
God’s omnipotence. Instead, God creates the effect at any given moment directly. In this
case, however, those politically active will never know if their efforts will produce any
results. What can they do?

And, His majesty be exalted, He made this world the world of causes and revealed all events of
providence in the world of generation and corruption by way of a cause. Therefore, all events
that occur are in essence traces of the power of God, free agent and almighty'f...]. Out of His
pure goodness and benevolence, He granted His servants particular volition. He enabled ev­
eryone to use their particular volition in some respect and realized his custom to create the ef­
fects (of this volition). In order to teach that one who has a wish should concern himself with
the (secondary) causes (leading to its realization), and make an effort at the means, and care
about them, God gave orders in several instances in the noble scripture. [...] Thus, the servant
(of God) who wants to obey his noble command shall concern himself with the (secondary)
causes, and should not allow for any neglect or shortcoming. By concerning himself with the
causes the servant has fulfilled his duty; to let the effect happen remains up to Him who makes
causes take effect. If He wills he creates (the effect) and makes it happen; if he wills it not, he
does not. To obtain (the effect) is not the duty of the servant. Since neglect or shortcoming in
terms of the preparing of the secondary causes is tantamount to disobedience of God’s com­
mand, the servant becomes a sinner. As he deserves castigation and punishment, he is being
punished by things like being defeated by the enemy, or suffering from poverty. If the warning
is not heeded, and no effort is made to understand the (divine) judgments of the past, the casti­
gation and punishment are increased, and gradually a new form emerges.61

Thus, ju st as according to Naima, the Prophet was acting ‘as if’ there was no super­
natural power that he could invoke in the present crisis, Kâtip Çelebi enjoins his audi­
ence to act ‘as if’ he could expect that God would in fact create the effects o f the causes
brought forth by political effort. In other words, both authors call on their audiences - or
their advisees - to conceive o f their political agendas in strictly secular terms, and not get
caught up in hopes for divine intervention. Both N aim a’s and Kâtip Çelebi’s arguments
can very plausibly be read as interventions in an on-going discourse of political theol­
ogy in which we are currently missing the opposing voice. If both o f them so strongly
emphasize the worldly contingency o f political action, then it might be inferred that
their opponents were suggesting that the solution to the crisis was one o f pious purity,
that the Ottomans should rely on God’s support for the pious ( tevekkiil), and forge ahead
with new military action regardless o f the military disadvantage. Such an opposition
could easily dismiss the ‘secular’ activism supported by the historians as a violation of
tenets o f piety.62 Seen from this angle, it becomes important that Kâtip Çelebi and Naima

61 This passage is quoted in G. Hagen and E. L. Menchinger, ‘Ottoman Historical Thought’, in

A Companion to Global Historical Thought, ed. P. Duara, V. Murthy, and A. Sartori (Oxford
2014), 101-102; it is not included in Mitchell’s partial translation of Tuhfetul-kibar recently
re-edited by Svat Soucek.
62 1 use ‘secular’ in quotation marks because the discussion of a broader development of secular-
306 GOTTFRIED HAGEN

bracket and isolate ideas o f divine intervention in history, but they don’t deny it. Just as
Kâtip Çelebi argues that action is G od’s command, Naima makes following the Prophet’s
example a dual obligation: not only are his actions at al-Hudaybiyya as such a model to
emulate, but since the Prophet explicitly (according to Naima) willed this event to be a
lesson to the Believers, obeying his command and taking heed becomes an additional,
broader, obligation, with the paradoxical result that the endorsement o f ‘secular’ thinking
is based on a model o f piety.

Conclusion
We have come a long way in the many implications and interpretations o f the story of
al-Hudaybiyya as Ottoman writers attempted to make sense o f this complex and contra­
dictory narrative. The classical Islamic tradition, based on the narrations in early sïra
literature, reflects the shift from a Prophet who is essentially human, with all his conflicts
and weaknesses, to a charismatic or saintly figure o f almost unlimited power. Ottoman
narratives, taking up the latter imagination from their respective sources, increasingly
struggled to square the notions o f quasi-omnipotent sainthood with the external facts.
That they would seek a political dimension in the deeds o f the Prophet is, as we saw, not
to be taken for granted. Their primary concern being not a coherent system o f theology
or prophetology, Ottoman sïra authors took advantage o f the multiplicity o f motives, and
highlighted one or the other or many in order to inculcate lessons o f piety, trust in leader­
ship, and divine providence. Their priorities are clearly shifting over time, from D arir’s
lesson o f submission to N abî’s search to alleviate doubts and find fulfillment, to the
modernists’ interest in the Prophet’s political leadership. This trajectory could certainly
be fleshed out more by including more texts in the sample.63 The important point, how­
ever, can be made based on the current selection, that is, that none o f these Ottoman sir a
authors appears to draw direct connections between the archetypical events o f the slra
and his own experiences. Given that Ottoman poetry also excels in erasing the individual
experience by sublimating it into universal truths, this should not come as a surprise,
nor does it preclude that Ottoman readers made those connections, possibly in multiple
ways, in their reading. It is even likely that such reading o f sïra in the light o f individual
experiences happened on a regular basis, but was not recorded. Nevertheless, the two
instances examined in great detail above in which this link was made explicit show that
readings were historically contingent in more than one way. We saw that Ebussuud and
Naima derived diametrically opposed political directions from the consultation o f the
al-Hudaybiyya episode. More importantly, however, is that the way in which they pro­
ceeded differed so starkly. Where Ebussuud suggested that an Ottoman Sultan qua Caliph

ism in Ottoman contexts is beyond the confines of this article. The term ‘activism’ is from E.
L. Menchinger, ‘An Ottoman Historian in an Age of Reform: Ahmed Vasif Efendi (Ca. 1730-
1806)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan, 2014.
63 In addition to those quoted above, I have consulted Altiparmak and Karaçelebizade, but they
did not ultimately add anything of significance, especially since they are based on translations.
 THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD AS MODEL LEADER 307

could emulate the Prophet and thus participate in his charisma, which would guarantee
him divine succor and success, N aim a took pains to preclude such arguments. Instead of
extolling the Prophet as model above the historical normalcy o f kingship, Naima inserted
him into this normalcy by arguing that the Prophet had purposefully, for didactic reasons,
given up everything that separated him from other decision-makers. To eliminate (with
due respect and caution) the saintly or charismatic aspects o f the Prophet’s leadership
made it possible to engage with his model. M odem political discourse apparently no
longer sees a need to respect the theological concerns, but treats the Prophet simply as a
talented military leader.64 In this context, the example o f al-Hudaybiyya also retains its
ambiguity, as can be seen when it is used to characterize peace between Muslim states or
entities and Israel, serving as an argument for a treaty with the unbelievers for some, or
as a caution against imminent betrayal for others.65

64 A Western example is R. A. Gabriel, Muhammad: Islam s First Great General (Norman 2007),
a Muslim example (out of many, but apropos today) is M. F. Giilen, The Messenger o f God:
Muhammad. An Analysis o f the Prophet’s Life (New Jersey 2005), 261-212.
65 E.g. Khalidi, Images o f Muhammad, 87, fn 43.
 PART FOUR

OBLIQUE VIEWS
 OTTOMAN GREEK VIEWS OF OTTOMAN RULE
(15th - 16th CENTURIES)
THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE PATRIARCHATE ASSOCIATES

Konstantinos M oustakas *

T he fall o f C on sta n tin o ple in 1453 was w idely a c k n o w led g ed as the definite end of
the Byzantine world, a process that was completed with the Ottoman conquest o f the last
Byzantine outposts, the Despotate o f the M orea and the Empire o f Trebizond, in 1460
and 1461, respectively. In any case, most o f the people who were once subjects o f the
Byzantine state, or who identified themselves with it, already lived under Ottoman rule
long before these dates. The majority among the conquered Christian peoples tried to ac­
commodate themselves as best they could to the condition o f second-class subjects, zim-
mi, o f the Islamic Ottoman state; some left for the Latin dominions or Italy, while others
occasionally revolted in areas close to the fronts o f fighting between the Ottomans and
Western powers. The task o f theorising about the new state o f affairs was naturally left to
the intellectuals. In this respect, Greek learning and intellectual life seriously diminished
in the Ottoman territories during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, as most intellectu­
als had departed to Italy, and local conditions were not favourable to intellectual life until
as late as the seventeenth century.
The dominant view about Ottoman rule, as expressed by the emigrant scholars, and
those who lived in the Latin dominions, was that o f a tyranny that was violently imposed
by a barbaric and infidel power, which the Christian people had to resist in collaboration
with Western powers. The most characteristic exponents o f this approach in the fifteenth
century include Cardinal Bessarion, Isidore o f Kiev, Michael Apostolis, and the historian
Ducas. Different approaches were expressed by scholars who remained in the Ottoman
Empire, and can be distinguished into two groups, one consisting o f clerics associated
with the reinstated Patriarchate o f Constantinople, which became the major nucleus of
Greek intellectual life in the Ottoman Empire during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries,
the other being a short-lived nucleus o f secular learning consisting o f laymen associated
with the Ottoman ruling establishment.*1

* University of Crete.
1 This second group includes scholars such as George Amiroutzes, Kritoboulos, and, probably,
Laonikos Chalkokondyles.
312 KONSTANTINOS MOUSTAKAS

The first Patriarch o f Ottoman Constantinople, Gennadios, had already distinguished

him self as one o f the leading scholars in fifteenth-century Byzantium. Then, he was the
one who undertook the task o f establishing a theoretical framework in which the position
o f Christians under Ottoman rule could be accommodated. His ideas belong to the area
o f political theology, with the theological being the major factor for interpreting political
and historical developments. In this respect, the Ottoman conquest and rule is considered
to be a disaster and misfortune, but one that was ordained by God, as punishment for
serious sins the Byzantines had committed.2 Thus, they had to abide in that condition.
Gennadios personified Ottoman rule in the person o f the Sultan, more precisely,
Mehmed II, the only Sultan whose reign he survived, setting in this way a model for
the future insofar as the views o f the patriarchal associates are concerned. He is always
courteous in his writings about the Sultan; in one case he even describes him as philan­
thropic and friendly to the Church,3 but always avoids calling him basileus, preferring
other terms, such as o Kpaxmv, i.e., ‘he who holds pow er’.4 This point is especially crucial
regarding the issue o f whether Byzantines who came under Ottoman rule, and Ottoman
Greeks later on, could regard this rule as a legitimate one. The term basileus had special
connotations in Byzantine political thought, and that is why the use o f the Greek term
is preferred from this point on, instead o f a translation into ‘king’ or ‘emperor’. Even
though it seemed bizarre in the late Byzantine period, the Byzantines mostly avoided the
use o f the term basileus for rulers other than their own, whom they continued to regard
as the ‘Roman Em peror’, an ecumenical Emperor, and the only lawful holder o f this title,
whose dignity was considered to be higher than that o f other rulers. The term basileus
also meant the legitimate Emperor, as opposed to terms like ‘tyrant’, ‘dynast’, etc. In this
respect, by not allocating the title o f basileus to Sultan Mehmed II, Gennadios did not
concede recognition to the legitimacy o f his rule; however, he recommended to his flock,
then an Ottoman millet, to accept that rule and to operate under the conditions it set.
What Gennadios considered as primary for his flock was not to lose their Orthodox
faith, as they had almost done, in his opinion, when Church Union was accepted at the
Council o f F e rra ra - Florence and with the Uniate ceremony o f December 1452 in Hagia
Sophia. What mostly concerned the Church in general was to cement its authority over
the Christian people by propagating what could be described as moral integrity.5 A more
specific challenge the Church had to face was to help its people resist the temptations

2 M. -H. Blanchet, Georges-Gennadios Scholarios (vers 1400 - vers 1472). Un intellectuel or­
thodoxe face à la disparition de l ’empire byzantin (Paris 2008), 124-135.
3 George Gennadios Scholarios, Apologia de silentio ad Theodorum Branam, in M. Jugie, L.
Petit and X. A. Siderides (eds.), Ouvres complètes de Georges (Gennadios) Scholarios, v. IV
(Paris 1935), 265-266.
4 Blanchet, Georges-Gennadios Scholarios, 107.
5 In this respect, the General Address of c. 1477 by Patriarch Maximos III recommends a fenc­
ing of Christians around their church authorities: M. Paizi-Apostolopoulou and D. G. Aposto-
lopoulos (eds), Merâ xrjv KaxâKxrjor], ExoxaoxiKéç npooappoyëç tov Ilaxpiapxeiov Kmvoxavxi-
voüTcoÀecoç oe avÉKÔoxrj eymicho xov 1477 [After the conquest. Adaptations of thought of the
Patriachate of Constantinople in an unpublished circular of 1477] (Athens 2006).
 OTTOMAN GREEK VIEWS OF OTTOMAN RULE (15th- 16th CENTURIES) 313

o f Islamisation,67as is shown by, among others things, the canonisation o f those con­
verts to Islam who reverted to Christianity and were consequently punished by death,
the so-called neo-martyrs.1 In any case, Gennadios’s policies and ideas were shaped in
a short-term perspective, since he believed that the end o f the world was coming soon,
and expected it to happen in the year 7000 from the creation o f the world, according to
Byzantine chronology, which corresponded to the A.D. year 1492.8
Gennadios can be credited with introducing and establishing the ideology o f the Pa­
triarchate. Other scholars o f the second half o f the fifteenth century associated with the
Patriarchate, such as Theodore Agalianos, M atthew Kamariotes, the intellectual Patri­
archs Maximos III (formerly Manuel Christonymos) and M ark Xylokarabes, the Grand
Rhetor Manuel Korinthios and others, are not known to have contributed anything more
to the ideology o f the Patriarchate with their writings.9 Insofar as their writings concern
the Ottoman conquest and rule, they are limited to lament, and to a persistent re-assertion
o f the divine punishment schema.101
First established by Gennadios, the opinions o f the Church and Patriarchal associates
were somewhat modified in the course o f the sixteenth century, being in any case in line
with the basic model proposed by him. The text that principally allows us to deduce the
sixteenth-century view from this perspective is a historical one, the Ekthesis Chronica,
an anonymous chronicle composed around the middle o f the century which reflects the
world-view and ideology o f the associates o f the Patriarchate." In this historical com­

6 Blanchet, Georges-Gennadios Scholarios, 136-138.

7 E. A. Zachariadou, ‘Btoi veoxépcov aylcov: H s7iayptmvT)crri yia to Ttotpvio [Lives of latter-day
saints: watchtfulness for the flock]’, in E. Kountoura-Galaki (ed.), The Heroes o f the Orthodox
Church. The New Saints, 8th - 16th c. (Athens 2004), 215-225.
8 C. Mango, Byzantium. The Empire o f New Rome (London 1980), 213; Blanchet, Georges-Gen­
nadios Scholarios, 128-133.
9 S. Runciman, The Great Church in Captivity. A Study o f the Patriarchate o f Constantinople
from the Eve o f the Turkish Conquest to the Greek War o f Independence (Cambridge 1968),
208-210; Ch. Patrinelis, O Oeàômpoç AyaXXiavôç tamiÇôfjevoç Jipoç mv Oeocpâvtjv Mr/Seiaç
k m oi avsKÔoxoi Xôyoi mu. Mia véa laropiKr/ Tapir/ nspi to u Tiarpiapyeiou KcovaravrivoumXe-
cuç Kmâ touç itpœmvç perd tr/v âXwoiv xpàvovç [Theodoros Agallianos identified with The-
ophanes of Medeia and his unpublished discourses. A new historical source concerning the Pa­
triarchate of Constantinople in the first years after the Fall] (Athens 1966); K. Th. Papadakis,
MmOaioç KapapidoTr/ç. To deoXoyiKÔ épyo to u . Merâ exSooecog avéKÔotœv ëpycov to u [Mat­
thew Kamariotes. His theological work], unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Aristotle University
of Thessaloniki, 2000; D. K. Chatzimichael, MmOaioç KapapmTr/ç. NvpfioXr/ art/ peXtcr/ mu
flou, mu èpyov k m r/ç enoxr/ç mv [Matthew Kamariotes. A contribution to the study of his life,
t

work, and age], unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, 2002.
10 Cf. e.g. the lament on the fall of the city by Matthew Kamariotes: De Constantinopoli Capta
Narratio Lamentabilis, in J. -P. Migne (ed.), Patrologia Graeca, Vol. CLX, cols. 1060-1070;
additionally, the General Address by Patriarch Maximos III (c. 1477) see in Paizi-Apostolo-
poulou and Apostolopoulos, Msrâ xt/v K a z a K u r / o r / . , 55-57.
11 S. P. Lambros (ed.), Ecthesis Chronica and Chronicon Athenarum, London 1902; M. Philip-
pides (ed.), Emperors, Patriarchs and Sultans o f Constantinople, 1373-1513. An Anonymous
Greek Chronicle o f the Sixteenth Century (Brookline 1990).
314 KONSTANTINOS MOUSTAKAS

position, the turning- point in history is the conquest o f Constantinople. The narration
actually starts in the 1390s, with the long siege of the city by Bayezid I (1389-1402),
describing some deeds o f the last Byzantine Emperors and the contemporary Ottoman
Sultans, but this introductory narrative o f the pre-conquest period should not be seen as
reflecting any sense o f continuity between the Byzantine and Ottoman realms; it rather
serves as a prelude to the Ottoman take-over o f Byzantium. After the conquest o f Con­
stantinople, the narrative has a two-fold focus: on the deeds of the Sultans, and on the
history o f the Patriarchate.
In its basic conception, the Ekthesis Chronica cannot be regarded as an Ottoman his­
tory proper, which is in contrast with other Greek texts o f the later sixteenth century, such
as the unpublished chronicle o f Ms. 161 o f the Library o f Chios, by Manuel Malaxos,
which starts with Ishmael, and continues with the emergence o f the Turks, followed
by Osman; or the verse chronicle o f Hierax, starting with Osman;12 or the Barberinus
Chronicle o f the Turkish Sultans published by Zoras.13 Instead, the Ekthesis Chronica
is the particular history o f the Greeks under Ottoman rule, focusing on the two major
authorities which exercised power over them, the Sultans in the political field, and the
Patriarchs in the religious and communal fields. The Ekthesis Chronica is followed up
by two chronicles, which focus on each o f these two authorities respectively, composed
in 1578 by known Patriarchal associates, Theodosios Zygomalas and Manuel Malaxos,
under the same circumstances, on the orders o f Martinus Crusius. These are the Historia
Politica Constantinopoleos and the Historia Patriarchica Constantinopoleos)4
In their representation o f the Ottoman ruling system, the Ekthesis Chronica and its
two follow-ups sustain its identification with the Sultan’s person, in accordance to Gen-
nadios’s model. The Muslims o f the Ottoman Empire appear only once as a distinct actor,
in the Historia Patriarchica, in the narration o f an incident, taking place in the 1520s or
30s, in which the ulema of Constantinople asked for the closing of all churches in the
city, on the grounds o f its conquest by force, a request that was not satisfied by Sultan
Suleyman II (1522-1566).15 In this respect, a sharp distinction in the stance and attitude
towards Ottoman Christians is apparent between the Sultan, who appears as just and
impartial, and Ottoman Muslims in general, who appear as hostile.
More generally, insofar as the Sultans are concerned, the Ekthesis Chronica persists
in not attributing to them the title o f basileus, a title strongly invested with political

12 K. N Sathas (ed.), Meoaicovucrj Bi/lXiod^Kti [Medieval Library], Vol. I (Venice 1872), 245-268.
13 G. Th. Zoras (ed.), Xpovucov Kepi tcov Tovpiccov EooXzavwv (Kara Bapfiepivôv eXXrjvucôv kcûôi-
ko. I l l ) [Chronicle of the Turkish Sultans (according to Barberinus Greek Codex 111] (Athens
1958); E. A. Zachariadou, To XpoviKo tcov TovptcmvSovAravcov (too Bapflepivov EXXrpv. KmSi-
ko. 111) >cai to naliKÔ too jipomKO [The chronicle of the Turkish Sultans (of Barberinus Greek
Codex 111) and its Italian original] (Thessaloniki 1960).
14 M. Crusius, Turcograeciae Libri Octo (Basel 1584), 1-43, 106-184. The edition that is used
here is the later one by I. Bekker in the Corpus Scriptorum Historiae Byzantinae: 1. Bekker
(ed.), Historia Politica et Patriarchica Constantinopoleos, Epirotica, (Bonn 1849) (hereafter:
Historia Politica and Historia Patriarchica, respectively).
15 Historia Patriarchica, 158-169.
 OTTOMAN GREEK VIEWS OF OTTOMAN RULE (15™-16™ CENTURIES) 315

symbolisms. The Sultans are usually described as avOévrrjç - master, or /uéyaç avOévvrjç
- grand master, in accordance with their own self-styling in their Greek nomencla­
ture.1617A deviation from this tradition is first observed in the Historia Politica and the
Historia Patriarchica, in which the title o f basileus appears to be occasionally attrib­
uted to the Sultans, together with the other titles they were described by in Greek texts
(iaovAtâv, avOévzrjç, psyaç avOsvrrig).11 That was a sharp break with the tradition that
had been established since the days o f Gennadios, and could strengthen the impression
that Ottoman rule was seen as legitimate to some extent, upon the presupposition that
those scholars o f the later sixteenth century properly knew and understood the symbolic
meanings and implications the term had in Byzantine times, something that cannot be
taken for granted.
It is o f particular importance that the Sultans are described in these texts as basileis
- now it can be translated as ‘Emperors’ - o f Constantinople. This designation o f the
Sultans as Emperors o f Constantinople further emphasised the view o f Constantinople
as the central subject o f history, which is apparent in the Ekthesis Chronica already, as
can be deduced from the thematic arrangement o f the narrative.18 Nevertheless, albeit
acknowledged as Emperors o f Constantinople, they were seen to belong to a new era for
the imperial city that was properly discontinuous with the Byzantine past. As is indicated
by the successive numbering o f the Sultans from the Conqueror onwards, as first, second,
etc. Emperor o f Constantinople,19 the discontinuity with the older Byzantine imperial es­
tablishment is properly stressed. By adhering to this pattern in the Historia Patriarchica,
Manuel Malaxos is inconsistent with his approach in other texts he also composed, under
different circumstances. In the unpublished chronicle o f Ms. Chiensis 161, which he also
appears to have composed, he has a different view o f the ‘Emperors of Constantinople’,
according to which the succession o f all previous Emperors, Byzantine, Franks, again
Byzantine, and finally Ottomans, is given in an unbroken successive line, with Mehmed

16 F. Miklosich and I. Müller (eds.), Acta et Diplomata Graeca Medii Aevi. Sacra et Profana
(Vienna 1865) Vol. 111:286, 287, 290, 293, 295, 298, 299, 301, 302, 306; S. P. Lampros, 'H
ékkpviKTj coç sjcloppoi; yX&aaa t &v oovXmvav [Greek as the official language of the Sultans]’,
Neos Hellenomnemon, 5 (1908), 66, 67.
17 For the Sultan’s designation as basileus: Historia Politica, 31,40, 51, 52, 66, 67. Historia Pa­
triarchica, 150, 151, 190, 199. It is important to stress again here that relevant comments in
this study only concern the texts written by associates of the Patriarchate which reflect its ide­
ology. Other scholars, such as Amiroutzes and Kritoboulos, who wrote from different perspec­
tives, had already viewed and described the Sultan as their basileus long ago. See K. Mousta-
kas, ‘Byzantine “visions” of the Ottoman Empire: Theories of Ottoman legitimacy by Byzan­
tine scholars after the fall of Constantinople’, in A. Lymberopoulou (ed.), Images o f the Byzan­
tine World: Visions, Messages and Meanings. Studies Presented to Leslie Brubaker (Aldershot
2011), 220- 221.
18 K. Moustakas, ‘The Logic of Historical Thematology in the Historia Politica Constantinopo-
leos and the Historia Patriarchica Constantinopoleos’, in E. Balta, G. Salakidis, Th. Stavridis
(eds), Festschrift in Honor o f Ioannis P. Theocharides, II, Studies on the Ottoman Empire and
Turkey (Istanbul 2014), 365-369.
19 Historia Politica,11, Historia Patriarchica, 150, 151, 190, 199.
316 K O N STA N T IN O S M O U STA K A S

II b ein g d escrib ed as 7th E m p e ro r o f th e T u rk s a n d 9 4 th o f C o n stan tin o p le, B a y e z id II as

8th E m p e ro r o f th e T u rk s an d 9 5 th o f C o n sta n tin o p le , etc .20
W ith reg a rd to th e im a g e o f th e S u ltan s in th e se te x ts, th e E k th e sis C h ro n ic a a n d th e
H is to r ia P o litic o e v o lv e to a g re a t e x te n t fro m a to ta lly n eg a tiv e v ie w o f p re -c o n q u e st
S u ltan s a n d M e h m e d II to a d isc re et, im p a rtial, a n d o c c asio n ally p o sitiv e , v ie w o f later
S ultans. A b o u t M e h m e d II, b o th te x ts re se rv e an a m b iv a le n t view , o fte n d esc rib in g him
in p ejo ra tiv e te rm s a n d p re se n tin g h im in d a rk co lo u rs, a n d in tw o c a se s h e is d e sc rib e d
as a “rep ro b ate an d d e stro y e r o f C h ristia n s” in th e E k th e sis C h r o n ic a .21 H o w ev er, in th e
final assessm en t o f his re ig n th e a p p ro a c h is m o re b a la n c e d an d h e is re c o g n ise d as a ca ­
p ab le le ad e r and a frie n d o f le arn in g .22 In an id e a lise d a c c o u n t o f G e n n a d io s’ d isc u ssio n s
w ith him , th e fo rm e r is sh o w n to h a v e a p p e a se d h im a n d to h a v e c h a n g e d h is attitu d e
to w ard C h ristian s fro m h o stile to frien d ly .23 T h is p a rtic u la r sto ry is p iv o tal to th e su b se ­
q u en t self-p rese n ta tio n o f th e P a tria rc h a te as th e p ro te c to r o f O tto m a n C h ristian s. W h a t
can be d ed u c ed fro m it is th a t, in th e id e o lo g y o f th e P a tria rc h ate , it w as th e C h u rch , an d
n o t th e p rereq u isite s o f Islam ic la w o r th e p o litic a l co n sid e ra tio n s o f th e O tto m a n s, th a t
h ad ac h ie v ed w h a te v e r to le ra n c e e x iste d fo r C h ristian s in th e O tto m a n E m p ire. T h e ro le
o f th e p a rtic u la r S u ltan s in th e c o n q u e st is n o t irre le v a n t to th e w ay in w h ic h th e y are d e­
picted . M e h m e d II w as th e o n e w h o w a s th o u g h t to h a v e ac c o m p lish e d it, w h ile th e later
S u ltan s o p era ted w ith in th e c o n te x t o f a f a i t- a c c o m p li w h ic h h a d alre ad y d e te rm in e d th e
situ atio n O tto m a n C h ristia n s h a d to a c c e p t a n d ac c o m m o d a te th e m se lv e s in.
A s m e n tio n e d b efo re, th e se te x ts h o ld to a d isc re e t p o sitio n o n th e S u ltan s afte r
M e h m ed II w ith n o n eg a tiv e co m m e n ts ab o u t th e m . O c c a sio n a lly th e y m a k e p o sitiv e
co m m en ts, in w h ic h th e y d e sc rib e th e m as e ith e r ju s t o r p h ila n th ro p ic .24 B o th , ju s tic e an d
p h ilan th ro p y , w ere am o n g th e h ig h e st v a lu e s th a t th e E m p e ro r h a d to e n d o rse am o n g h is
ideal featu res in B y z a n tin e p o litic a l trad itio n . P ie ty w as th e th ird o n e, b u t it c o u ld n o t be
ap p lica b le to th e S u ltan s sin c e th e y w e re o f a d iffe re n t re lig io n . N e v e rth e le ss, w e c a n n o t
be ce rtain as to w h e th e r th e six te e n th -c e n tu ry au th o rs ap p lie d th e se v alu es to th e S u ltan s
fo llo w in g B y z an tin e tra d itio n s, fo r ju s tic e a n d p h ila n th ro p y are ideal q u alitie s o f th e ru le r
in Islam ic a n d o th e r o rie n ta l p o litic a l trad itio n s to o .25

20 Koraes Library of Chios, Ms. 161, 103v, 224r.-224v.

21 Ecthesis Chronica, Philippides ed., 54, 82.
22 Ecthesis Chronica, Lambros ed., 38-39; Philippides ed., 88, 90; Historia Politico, 50-51.
23 Ecthesis Chronica, Lambros ed., 20; Historia Politico, 30, 31.
24 A notable case is provided by the comment on Selim I (1512-1520) in the Ekthesis Chronica
and the Historia Politica Constantinopoleos, who is claimed to have allowed the re-opening
of several churches that were closed by his predecessors: Ecthesis Chronica, Lambros ed., 59.
Philippides ed., 122. Historia Politica, 72. In the Historia Patriarchica, Manuel Malaxos re­
serves much praise for Murad III, the contemporary Sultan: Historia Patriarchica, 199-200.
25 For a general view of the Byzantine and the Islamic case respectively: K. D. S. Paidas, Ta
flvÇaviivà «KâwxTpa rjyepôvoç» ztjç ô<nepr]ç nepiôôov (1254-1403). Eicçpâoeiç zov fSvÇavnvoô
PamXncov lôsmôovç [The Byzantine “mirrors of a prince” of the later period (1254-1403). Ex­
pressions of the Byzantine ideal of kingship] (Athens 2006), esp. 75-143; A. Black, The His­
tory o f Islamic Political Thought. From the Prophet to the Present (Edinburgh 2001), passim.
 O TT O M A N G R EEK V IE W S OF O TT O M A N R U LE (15™ -16™ C EN TU R IE S) 317

A s th e m a jo r c o m m u n a l in stitu tio n o f th e C h ristia n p e o p le in th e O tto m a n E m pire,

th e C h u rch h a d to im p le m e n t a p o lic y o f a c c o m m o d a tio n w h ich w o u ld find a p la c e fo r its
fo llo w ers in an Islam ic state. C o n seq u en tly , th e id e o lo g y o f th e P atria rc h ate a n d its a s­
so ciates w as o n e o f ac co m m o d a tio n a n d co m p ro m ise. F o llo w in g , in g en e ral, th e m o d els
o f G en n a d io s, b u t la ck in g h is sc h o larly q u alitie s, la tter-d ay asso cia te s o f th e P a tria rc h ­
ate, eith er k n o w n o nes, su c h as Z y g o m a la s an d M a la x o s, or u n k n o w n o nes, su c h as th e
an o n y m o u s au th o rs o f th e ea rly v e rsio n s o f th e E k th e sis C h ro n ic a , p ro d u ce d te x ts th a t
reflect th is id eology, ev en th o u g h in a less so p h istic a te d w ay as c o m p ared w ith th eir
p ro to ty p e. In a d y n astic e m p ire like th e O tto m a n , w h ich h ad n o official n am e o th e r than
‘th e state o f th e h o u se o f O s m a n ’, th e p e rso n o f th e S u ltan o c c u p ie d a ce n tral p la c e in
sta te ideology. T h e in telle ctu al a sso cia te s o f th e P atria rc h a te ad h e re d to th a t co n c ep tio n
o f O tto m a n ru le w ith sp ecial e m p h asis, as it allo w e d th e m to o v erlo o k th e p re se n c e o f
th e su p e rio r M u slim m ille t w ith in th e O tto m a n ru lin g estab lish m e n t. M o reo v e r, th ese
in te lle c tu als allu d e d to th e id e a a b o u t th e in h e re n t su b ju g a tio n o f th e ir c o m p a trio ts and
co -relig io n ists to an ‘em p ire o f C o n sta n tin o p le ’, w h ic h h a d b ee n allo ca te d th e n to th e
O tto m a n S u ltan s by G o d ’s w ill.
 NEGOTIATING POWER IN THE CRIMEAN KHANATE:
N O T E S O N T A T A R P O L I T IC A L T H O U G H T A N D P R A C T IC E
( 1 6 T H - I 8 T H C .)

D e n is e K l e i n *

B ec ause o f its d ist in c t tr a d itio n a n d po litic a l c o n st itu tio n , th e C rim e an K han ate
c o n stitu tes a p articu la rly in te re stin g y e t in tric ate c a se fo r th e stu d y o f p o litic a l th o u g h t
an d p rac tice in th e O tto m a n w o rld . S u c c e e d in g th e G re a t H o rd e in th e ea rly fifteen th
century, th e K h an s o f th e G ira y d y n asty in h e rite d th e w e ste rn ste p p e m o d e l o f sh ared
p o w e r b etw e en a G e n g h is id K h an a n d th e fo u r ru lin g T atar clan s w h o co n tro lle d m o st o f
th e p ro d u ctiv e lands, p o p u la tio n , a n d m ilitary, a n d w h o e le c te d th e K han. F o llo w in g the
O tto m an c o n q u e st o f C rim e a ’s so u th e rn co a stlin e in 1475, th e S u ltan s in Istan b u l g rad u ­
ally estab lish ed su z e ra in ty o v e r th e K h a n a te , w h o se lands e x te n d e d acro ss th e p en in su la
to th e ste p p es n o rth o f th e B la c k Sea. A t first, th e O tto m a n s m e re ly sa n ctio n ed th e c la n s’
v o te fo r th e C rim e a n th ro n e , b u t th e y la te r ca m e to a p p o in t th e K h a n s directly. A s a resu lt
o f th is p e c u lia r sy stem , p o litic a l eq u ilib riu m in th e K h a n a te w a s e x c e p tio n a lly fragile,
a n d p o w er rela tio n s h a d to b e fre q u en tly ren e g o tiated . F ierce riv a lrie s an d sh iftin g alli­
an ces b etw e en d iv e rse p o litic a l p la y ers in b o th C rim e a a n d in Istan b u l, w h ic h resu lted
in th e re c u rre n t re m o v a l o f K h a n s d e e m e d to o p o w e rfu l, d o m in a te d th e K h a n a te ’s p o li­
tic s fro m its b eg in n in g s in th e fifteen th c e n tu ry u n til its a n n e x a tio n b y R u ssia in 1783.*1
T his p a p e r d isc u sse s b a sic n o tio n s o f p o litic a l au th o rity a n d th e ir u se in th e pro cess
o f n e g o tia tin g p o w e r in th e C rim e a n K h a n a te b e tw e e n th e six te e n th an d th e e ig h tee n th
century, on th e b asis o f th e h isto rio g ra p h ic a l literatu re . S ch o la rsh ip o n C rim e a n T atar
p o litica l th o u g h t a n d p ra c tic e is scarce a n d h as fo c u se d p rim a rily o n th e K h a n s ’ political
id eo lo g y v is - à - v is th e O tto m a n S u ltan a n d fo re ig n p o w ers p a rtic u la rly as e x p re sse d in
p ea ce trea tie s, im p erial d ec re e s, d ip lo m a tic le tte rs, a n d titu la tu re . A s such, th is scholar-

* Leibniz Institute of European History, Mainz.

I want to thank the anonymous reviewer and the colleagues at our venue in Rethymno as
well as at two other venues where I have presented earlier versions of this paper, the Nether­
lands Institute in Istanbul and the University of Bonn, for their valuable feedback.
1 For an introduction to the history and political constitution of the Crimean Khanate see A.
Fisher, The Crimean Tatars (Stanford 1978); A. Bennigsen, P. N. Boratav, D. Desaive, and C.
Lemercier-Quelquejay, Le Khanat de Crimée dans les Archives du Musée du Palais de Topkapi
(Paris 1978).
320 D EN ISE K LEIN

sh ip h as largely o v e rlo o k e d th e p o litica l id eas an d d isc o u rse s th a t d o m in a te d th e sc en e in

C rim e a itself, fo r w h ic h th e re is a b u n d a n t m a terial, e sp e c ia lly in th e K h a n a te ’s h isto rio ­
g rap h ic al literatu re .2 T h e K h a n a te tru ly b e lo n g e d to th e O tto m a n w o rld b o th o n a c co u n t
o f its g ro w in g p o litic a l d e p e n d e n c e o n th e S u ltan a n d Ista n b u l’s g re a t c u ltu ral influence.
Y et rese arch into O tto m a n p o litic a l th o u g h t an d p ra c tic e h as m o stly co n c e n tra te d o n the
E m p ire ’s cap ital, n e g le c tin g th e p ro v in c e s and, esp ecially , its se m i-a u to n o m o u s reg io n s.
S ch o lars h av e p rim a rily e m b a rk e d u p o n re -re a d in g s o f th e p ro m in e n t ad v ic e literatu re
fo r ru lers. T h ey h a v e sh o w n little in te rest in te x ts b y le ss w ell-k n o w n au th o rs in o th e r
g en res th a t d ea lt w ith p o litic a l n o tio n s, o r g av e v o ic e to th e id eas a n d e x p e rie n c e s o f th e
co m m o n p eo p le.3 T h is p a p e r ad d re sses so m e o f th e se flaw s in th e sc h o la rsh ip in an at­
te m p t to m a k e a c o n trib u tio n to th e h isto ry o f th e p o litic a l th o u g h t a n d p ra c tic e o f b o th
th e C rim e an K h an a te an d th e O tto m a n w o rld at large.
T h e K h a n a te ’s h isto rio g ra p h ic a l literatu re co n stitu te s a m a jo r so u rce fo r th e study
o f C rim e an T atar p o litic a l th o u g h t an d p rac tice . T h is is b ec au se, first, h isto rie s fu n c ­
tio n e d sim u lta n eo u sly as ad v ic e literatu re a n d p o litic a l tre a tise s in th e T atar state, as
th e se g en re s d id n o t e x ist o n th e ir ow n. S eco n d , h isto rio g ra p h y p la y e d a p ro m in e n t ro le
in th e p ro ce ss o f n e g o tia tin g pow er. It w as n o t o n ly m e n h o p in g fo r th e K h a n ’s fa v o u r
w h o co m p o sed h isto rie s to p ro m o te th e r u le r ’s id e o lo g y a n d le g itim ise h is p o litic s; o th e r
p o litica l acto rs u sed h isto rio g ra p h y as w ell, p u sh in g th e ir o w n a g e n d a and, at tim e s, c h a l­
le n g in g th e ru le r ’s p o litic a l ch o ic e s a n d claim s to pow er. E ith e r w ay, th e ir id e as a n d o p in ­
io n s m o st lik ely en te re d th e p o litic a l d isc o u rse o f th e w id e r C rim e a n p u b lic in a sm u c h as,
in th e K h an ate, h isto rie s w e re co m m o n ly re a d a lo u d in g ath e rin g s in fro n t fo r au d ien c es
m ad e u p o f m e m b e rs o f th e ru lin g elite as w ell as c o m m o n e rs.4 In co n c re te te rm s, I w ill

2 Two studies, both dealing with Ottoman-Tatar relations, use some of the Khanate’s histories
alongside contemporary Ottoman histories and works from the post-Khanate era in order to
discuss certain Crimean Tatar notions of political authority. The second study also gives an
overview of the relevant literature: A. W. Fisher, ‘Crimean Separatism in the Ottoman Empire’,
in W. W. Haddad and W. Ochsenwald (eds), Nationalism in a Non-National State: The Dissolu­
tion o f the Ottoman Empire (Columbus 1977), 57-76; N. Krolikowska, ‘Sovereignty and Sub­
ordination in Crimean-Ottoman Relations (Sixteenth-Eighteenth Centuries)’, in G. Kârmân
and L. Kuncevic (eds), The European Tributary States o f the Ottoman Empire in the Sixteenth
and Seventeenth Centuries (Leiden 2013), 43-65.
3 For a recent overview of the existing scholarship and its biases, see M. Sariyannis, Ottoman
Political Thought up to the Tanzimat: A Concise History, with a chapter by E. Tuçalp Atiyas
(Rethymno 2015), 7-13.
4 On Crimean Tatar historiography and its role in society, see D. Klein, ‘Historiography and
Historical Culture in the Crimean Khanate ( 16th-18th Century)’, unpublished Ph.D. dis­
sertation, Universitât Konstanz, 2014, 92-214. See also I. V. Zajcev [Zaytsev], Krymskaja
istoriograficeskaja tradicija XV-XIX w. : puti razvitija, rukopisi, teksty i istocniki [Crimean
Historiographical Tradition of XV-XIX Centuries: Currents, Manuscripts, Texts and Sourc­
es] (Moscow 2009); N. S. Sejtjag’jaev, Krymskotatarskaia istoricheskaia proza XV-XVHI w.
[Crimean-Tatar Historical Prose of XV-XVIII centuries] (Simferopol 2009). I wish to thank my
Russian-speaking friends, in particular Kateryna Kovalchuk and Roman Voyts, for translating
these publications for me.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN T H E C R IM E A N K H A N A TE 321

be loo k in g a t th e sev en h isto rie s th a t w e re w ritte n fo r au d ie n c e s w ith in th e T atar state

betw een th e m id d le o f th e six tee n th a n d th e m id d le o f th e eig h te e n th cen tu ry . T hough
n o t n ecessarily p en n e d b y locals, th e se w o rk s w e re rea d a n d d isc u sse d in th e K h an ate:

1) R em m al H o c a ’s History o f Khan Sahib Giray ( Tarih-i Sahib Giray Han) is th e ea rli­

e st h isto ry from th e K h an a te, ch ro n ic lin g th e reig n o f K h a n S ahib G ira y (r. 1532-
1551). R em m al H o c a (d. afte r 1568), an O tto m a n sc h o la r a n d lo n g -te rm resid en t
at th e K h a n ’s p alac e, c o m p o se d th is p an e g y ric w o rk as a c o m m issio n fro m th e late
K h a n ’s d au g h ter.5
2) S en ai’s History o f Khan Islam Giray ( Tarih-i Islam Giray Han) is a p a n e g y ric history
fo cu sin g on K han Islam III G ira y ’s (r. 1 6 4 4 -1 6 5 4 ) v ic to rie s b e tw e e n th e y e a rs 1644
an d 1651. H aci M e h m e d S enai (d. a fte r 1651) o f B a h çe saray , a fo rm e r se c re ta ry o f
th e K h a n ’s divan , co m p o se d th e w o rk at th e re q u e st an d u n d e r th e clo se su p e rv isio n
o f th e K h a n ’s p o w e rfu l vizier.6
3) S a b it’s Book o f Victory (Zafername) is th e o n ly T atar h isto ry in v erse. A la e d d in A li
S abit (d. 1714), a p o e t a n d a m b itio u s sc h o la r fro m B o sn ia, p re se n te d th e w o rk , w h ich
ce le b ra tes th e v ic to ry o f K h an S elim G ira y (r. 1 6 7 1 -1 6 7 8 , 1 6 84-1691, 1692-1699,
1702-1704) o v er R u s sia in 1689, to th e T atar ru le r in th e h o p e th a t he w o u ld ad vance
his ca reer as a ju d g e in th e O tto m a n E m p ire .7
4) M eh m ed G ira y ’s History o f M ehmed Giray ( Tarih-i M ehmed Giray ) is o n e o f tw o
w o rks p en n e d by m e m b e rs o f C rim e a ’s ru lin g h o u se . T h e e x ile d P rin ce M e h m e d G i­
ray (d. afte r 1703) c ritica lly rev ie w s O tto m a n an d T atar h isto ry from th e fa ile d siege
o f V ien n a in 1683 th ro u g h th e 1703 ‘E d im e E v e n t’.8
5) S ey y id M e h m e d R iz a ’s Seven Planets in the Narratives o f the Tatar Kings (Es-
seb ’ii 's-seyyar f t ahbar-i mülûk-i Tatar) is an e la b o ra te u n iv e rsa l h isto ry fo c u sin g on
T atar h isto ry up th ro u g h th e y e a r 1737. S e y y id M e h m e d R iz a (d. 1756), a n O tto m an
sc h o lar o f T atar o rig in , clo sely c o n n e c te d to th e K h a n a te 's e lite , c o m p o se d th e w o rk
in c o llab o ratio n w ith K h a n M e n g li II G ira y (r. 1 7 2 4 -1 7 3 0 , 1 7 3 7 -1 7 4 0 ).9

5 [Remmal Hoca], Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân. Histoire de Sahip Giray, Khan de Crimée de 1532
à 1551, ed. and trans. Ô. Gôkbilgin (Ankara 1973).
6 Hadzy Mehmed Senai z Krymu, Historia Chana Islam Gereja III: Üçïincü Islam Giray Han
Tarihi, ed. Z. Abrahamowicz (Warsaw 1971).
7 Sabit, Zafername, ed. T. Karacan (Sivas 1991).
8 Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, Vienna, Ôsterreichische Nationalbibliothek, H.O.
86. For a transliteration (without the marginal text), see U. Demir, ‘Târîh-i Mehmed Giray
(Degerlendirme - Çeviri Metin)’, unpublished M.A. dissertation, Marmara University, 2006.
For an edition and German and Polish translations of the first few folios, dealing with the Siege
of Vienna, see M. Kôhbach, ‘Der Târîh-i Mehemmed G iray- Eine osmanische Quelle zur Be-
lagerung Wiens durch die Tiirken im Jahre 1683’, Studia Austro-Polonica, 3 (1983), 137-164;
Z. Abrahamowicz, Kara Mustafa pod Wiedniem: Zrôdla muzulmanskie do dziejôw wyprawy
wiedehskiej 1683 roku [Kara Mustafa under Vienna: Muslim Sources up until the Viennese Ex­
pedition of 1683] (Cracow 1973), 25-27, 307-322.
9 Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb ’ii ’s-seyyarf t ahbar-i mülûk-i Tatar: Asseb o-ssejjar ili Sem ’plan-
322 D EN ISE K LE IN

6) A b d u lg affar K in m î’s Pillar o f the Narratives ( Umdetü ’l-ahbar) is a m o n u m e n ta l but

ra th e r sim p le u n iv e rsa l h isto ry ch ro n ic lin g ev e n ts fro m cre atio n u n til th e y e a r 1743.
A b d u lg affar K in m î (d. afte r 1 7 5 5 -1 7 5 8 ), a m e m b e r o f th e K h a n a te ’s m o s t p o w erfu l
clan an d a h ig h -ra n k in g sta te official in ex ile, a p p a re n tly in te n d ed th e w o rk fo r the
ru lin g K h a n .10
7) S aid G ira y ’s History o f Said Giray (Tarih-i Said Giray) is th e p erso n a l re p o rt o f the
seco n d T atar p rin c e to tu rn h isto ria n , S aid G iray (d. a fte r 1758), c o n c e rn in g th e years
b etw e en 1755 an d 1758, w h e n h e se rv e d as c o m m a n d e r o f th e n o m a d ic N o g a y T atars
in Y edisan, th e ste p p e re g io n n o rth o f th e B la c k S e a b e tw e e n th e D n ie s te r a n d th e
D n iep e r riv e rs .11

D ra w in g on th e se se v en su rv iv in g h isto rie s fro m th e K h an a te, th e first p a rt o f th e

p a p e r estab lish es k e y id e as re g a rd in g th e K h a n ’s ru le a n d O tto m a n su zerain ty . T h e se c­
o n d p a rt attem p ts to h ig h lig h t th e d y n am ic n a tu re o f C rim e a n T atar p o litic a l ideology.
F o cu sin g on th re e o f th e h isto rie s th a t ex p re ss th e v ie w s o f m a jo r p o litic a l p la y e rs at
critical m o m e n ts o f th e K h a n a te ’s h isto ry (N o s 1, 4, a n d 5 in th e list ab o v e ), it ex p lo res
h o w ce rtain p o litic a l ac to rs in th e K h a n a te u se d th e se id e a s fo r th e ir o w n p a rtic u la r ends.
A s th is stu d y is a p re lim in a ry survey, it sh o u ld b e n o te d a t th e o u tse t th a t it c a n n o t do
ju stic e to th e e v o lu tio n o f id e as o v e r tim e o r to th e c o m p le x ity o f p o litic a l d isc o u rse s, n o r
can it alw ay s d istin g u ish b e tw e e n e a rlie r tra d itio n s o f p o litic a l th o u g h t a n d la te r O tto m a n
influences, in p a rtic u la r in th e p a p e r ’s first p art. W h a t is m o re, th e stu d y ’s fo cu s o n th e
T atar h isto rie s run s th e risk o f o v e rstre ssin g th e O tto m a n im p a c t o n C rim e a. In d ee d , m y
em p h asis on th is literatu re , w h ic h is larg ely in sp ire d b y th e O tto m a n tra d itio n , o b scu res
o th e r literary trad itio n s o f C rim e a c o n c e rn in g th e p ast, su c h as e p ic s an d g e n e alo g ies,
w h ic h w e re ro o ted in th e T a ta rs’ ste p p e o rig in s an d o ral c u ltu re .12 A t th e sa m e tim e , th is
literatu re d o es n o t reflec t th e o th e r cu ltu ral tra d itio n s th a t in fo rm e d T atar p o litic a l ideas
an d p rac tice s, fo r in sta n c e th a t o f th e K h a n s’ E u ro p e a n clerk s, w h ic h c a n b e seen in th e

et soderzascij istoriju Krymskih Hanov, ed. M. Kazembek (Kazan 1832). 1 wish to thank Bar­
bara Kellner-Heinkele, who allowed me to take a copy from her exemplar of this rare book.
10 Abdulgaffar Kinmî, Umdetü’l-ahbar, Istanbul, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi, Esad Efendi 2331.
The pages which, according to the table of contents, chronicle the years 1743-1755 are miss­
ing. For an old (and flawed) edition and a transliteration of the work’s core part, dealing with
the Tatars, see N. Asm, ‘Umdetü’t-tevarih’, Türk Tarih Encümeni Mecmuasi, 11, supplement
(Istanbul H.1343/1924); D. Derin, ‘Abdülgaffar Kinmfnin Umdetii’l-Ahbar’ina (Umdetii’t-
Tevarih) gore Kmm Tarihi’, unpublised M.A. thesis, Ankara University, 2003.
11 Said Giray, Tarih-i Said Giray, Berlin, Staatsbibliothek Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Orient Hs.
or. oct. 923 (http://digital.staatsbibliothek-berlin.de/werkansicht/?PPN=PPN778818373&LO
GID=LOG_0001, accessed June 1, 2016). For a partial edition, see B. Kellner-Heinkele, Aus
den Aufzeichnungen des Sa 'id Giray Sultan. Eine zeitgenôssische Quelle zur Geschichte des
Chanats der Krim um die Mitte des 18. Jahrhunderts (Freiburg 1975). I am greatly indebted
to the author for allowing me to use her handwritten transliteration of the work, which signifi­
cantly facilitated the reading of this poorly penned manuscript.
12 On these traditions, see Klein, Historiography, 34-51; Sejtjag’jaev, Krymskotatarskaia is-
toricheskaia proza, 57-86.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN TH E C R IM E A N K H A N ATE 323

ch an cery d o c u m e n ts .13 F in ally , m o st o f th e h isto rie s d ate fro m th e K h a n a te ’s la st century,

w h en O tto m a n isa tio n w as w ell ad v a n ce d . T h e six te e n th an d e a rlie r se v en te en th ce n tu ries
are u n d er-re p re sen ted c o m p a re d to la te r p e rio d s, w h ile n o w o rk s at all e x ist fro m th e
K h a n a te ’s early y ears, w h e n Ista n b u l’s ro le w a s n eg lig ib le .

I. P o l it ic a l I d e o l o g y

C rim e an T atar h isto rio g ra p h y co n v e y s v ario u s n o tio n s re g a rd in g th e ru le o f th e K hans

o f th e G iray d y n asty a n d th e ro le o f th e O tto m a n S u ltan s in th e K h an a te. T h e w orks
critica lly re v ie w th e p e rfo rm a n c e o f K h an s a n d S u ltan s alike, a n d also in c lu d e w o rd s o f
ad v ice fo r th e ru lers. T h e fo llo w in g o v e rv ie w o u tlin e s th e m o st sig n ifican t id e a s c irc u la t­
ing in th e K h a n a te b etw e e n th e m id d le o f th e six te e n th an d th e m id d le o f th e e ig h tee n th
century, as reflec te d in th e se v en T atar h isto rie s th a t h a v e co m e d o w n to th e p re se n t. It
sh o u ld b e n o te d th a t ea c h a u th o r u se d th e se id e as in an e c le ctic w ay. A s such, th e y seem
to h av e n e v e r fo rm e d a co m p le te an d c o h e re n t p o litic a l ideology.

The K h a n s ru le a n d th e id ea l Tatar ru ler

T h e h isto rio g ra p h y su g g e sts th a t th e m a jo r so u rces o f le g itim acy fo r th e C rim e a n K hans

w ere th e ir p ed ig re e an d a d iv in e m a n d ate to pow er, in c o m b in atio n w ith ce rta in q u alities
req u ired fo r th e ru le r se ate d o n th e C rim e an th ro n e. T h e m a tte r o f lin eag e is b ro u g h t up
in v ario u s w ay s. F irst, ac c o rd in g to th e te x ts, th e m e re fac t th a t G ira y d y n asty h a d already
b e e n in p o w e r fo r m a n y g en e ratio n s ju stifie d th e k h an s' rig h t to th e th ro n e. T h e ju stifi­
c a tio n o f ru le b ased on d y n a stic longevity, sig n ify in g n o b ility as w ell as co n tin u ity and
stability, w as an arg u m e n t u se d aro u n d th e w o rld , b u t it ac q u ired p a rtic u la r sig n ifican ce
in th e step p e em p ires, w h e re it w as co n sid e re d th e m o st im p o rta n t asset o f a ru le r.14 T his
id e a ap p a ren tly e n d u re d in to th e tim e o f th e C rim e an K h an ate, w h e re a h is to ria n ’s list o f
“req u irem en ts fo r ru le rsh ip ” m e n tio n s first an d fo re m o st th a t a ru le r “m u st b e o f n o b le d e ­
scen t; fro m fo re fa th er to fo refath er, h e sh o u ld b e sh ah , so n o f sh a h .” 15 T h e T atar h isto ries
stress th e G ira y s’ in h e rited claim to p o w e r by in tro d u c in g ev ery n e w K h an as th e son, the
g ran d so n , o r th e g rea t-g ra n d so n o f a m e m b e r o f th e d y n asty w h o h a d p rev io u sly o cc u p ie d
th e th ro n e. S om e te x ts ad d , b y w ay o f ex p lan a tio n , th a t b ec au se th e K h an s b e lo n g e d to
a d y n asty th a t h ad h eld th e in sig n ia o f so v e re ig n s fo r g en e ratio n s, th e y c o u ld n o t b e d e­
p o sed: “ U n less h e ab d ic a te s his o w n p o w er, o n e c a n n o t d ep o se th e K h an o f C rim e a ; for

13 On the Khan’s chancery, see D. Kotodziejczyk, The Crimean Khanate and Poland-Lithua-
nia: International Diplomacy on the European Periphery (I5th-18th Century); A Study of
Peace Treaties Followed by Annotated Documents (Leiden 2011), 229-240; Zajcev, Krymskaja
istoriograficeskaja tradicija, 18-22.
14 D. Sinor, ‘The Making of a Great Khan’, in B. Kellner-Heinkele (ed.), Altaica Berolinensia:
The Concept o f Sovereignty in the Altaic World; Permanent International Altaistic Conference,
34th Meeting, Berlin 21-26 July, 1991 (Wiesbaden 1993), 241-258, here 249.
15 Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gokbilgin, 35.
324 D EN ISE K LEIN

generations he has been the master o f power, named in the public prayers and possessing
the right to mint coins”.16
With certain features added, lineage is used to legitimise the Khans’ claims to power
in Islamic terms as well. Most o f the histories include statements claiming that the Khans
o f the Giray dynasty inherited their privilege from their forefathers, who had been great
rulers since the time o f Noah and his third son, Japheth. In fact, two o f the seven works
are actually arranged according to this logic, being universal histories that relate the
reigns o f every ancestor o f the Crimean Khans as far back as Noah. In this way, these
works inscribe the Khanate’s ruling house and the Tatar state into the already well-estab­
lished narratives o f Islamic universal history.17
The most important lineage-related asset o f Crimea’s ruling house was their Genghi-
sid ancestry. The Khans’ pedigree was not only the key to the political constitution and
unchallenged within the Khanate - where even rebels trying to depose the ruling Khan
could only consider a Giray as worthy o f taking his position - but it also provided the
Crimean rulers with an unrivalled political legitimacy outside the world o f the steppe.18
With the inclusion o f Mongol heritage in the political ideology o f most Islamic states,
the Genghisid lineage had already acquired a prestige rivalled only by descent from the
tribe o f the prophet Muhammad. In the Ottoman Empire, for instance, the “Genghisid
kings” o f Crimea were repeatedly discussed as possible alternatives for the throne should
the Ottoman dynasty ever die out.19 It thus comes as no surprise that the Crimean Tatar
historiography emphasises the Khans’ widely recognised Genghisid claims, speaking o f
them as “the Genghisids” occupying the “throne o f Genghis Khan” in “Bahçesaray, the
capital o f the rulers o f the house o f Genghis”.20 The texts also include genealogies high­
lighting how the Girays’ line o f succession reached all the way back, via the Khans o f the
Golden Horde, to Genghis Khan.21 The two aforementioned universal histories underline

16 Ibid., 20, translation based on Fisher, ‘Crimean Separatism’, 68.

17 See, for instance ibid., 23; Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abra-
hamowicz, !"*. For the two universal histories, see Abdulgaffar Kirimî, Umdetii ’l-ahbar; Seyy-
id Mehmed Riza, Es-seb w’s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek. The latter work repeats the Khans’ line of
succession in the introduction, see ibid., 3-4.
18 On Tatar rebels discussing whom to bring to power after deposing the ruling Khan, see, for in­
stance, Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 92r-v.
19 For an example from late seventeenth-century Istanbul and the bewildered reaction to this idea
in Crimea, see Silahdar Fmdikhh Mehmed Aga, Silahdar Tarihi, 2 vols (Istanbul 1928), 2:340;
M. de Peyssonel, Traité sur le Commerce de la Mer Noire, 2 vols (Paris 1787), 2:230-234. For a
more general discussion, see F. M. Emecen, ‘Osmanli Hanedamna Alternatif Arayiçlar Üzerine
Bazi Ômekler ve Mülahazalar’, îslâm Araçtirmalari Dergisi, 6 (2001), 63-76.
20 There are numerous references of this kind; see, for example, Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Gi­
ray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 82; Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abra-
hamowicz, û; Sabit, Zafername, ed. Karacan, 79; Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 79v;
Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb u s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek, 72; Abdulgaffar Kirimî, Umdetü 7-
ahbar, 290r.
21 In the case of one history, such a genealogy makes up a separate chapter: Hadzy Mehmed Se­
nai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, ÛA
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN T H E C R IM E A N K H A N A TE 325

this continuity in their general narrative, providing a more or less concise overview of
the beginnings o f humankind and the dynasties that had ruled the world, including the
Ottomans, ultimately culminating in Tatar history, from Genghis Khan up through his
successors in Crimea.22
Other than the dynasty’s pedigree, the legitimacy o f the Khan’s rule also rested on
the idea that God endowed the Tatar ruler with the throne. The notion o f a divine mis­
sion to rule is common to many cultures, and the Tatar histories suggest that the people
o f the Khanate were familiar with at least two such traditions: that o f the steppe, and that
o f Islam. According to the former, the ruler owed his elevated position in society and
his conquests to heavenly support; he was the son o f heaven and the lord o f the world.
This idea had been integrated early on into the legitimising repertoire o f the Islamised
Turco-Mongol states, becoming fossilised in such titles as “lord o f the (auspicious) con­
junction” (sahib-kiran) and “world conqueror”, titles which laid claim to universal sov­
ereignty and were utilised by rulers from Moghul India to the Ottoman Empire, includ­
ing the Crimean Khanate. Epithets bearing such steppe notions o f sovereignty regularly
appear in the histories, though much o f this usage seems merely formulaic.23 Instead, it
was the Islamic concept o f divine rulership that seems to have played the crucial role in
legitimising the Khans’ claims to power. According to this idea, God chose the ruler on
the throne, bestowed on him good fortune and special knowledge, and guided him in his
actions. The texts refer to this notion primarily by calling thè ruler the “shadow o f God
(on Earth)” (zillullah f i âlem) and the “ruler o f the Earth” (padi$ah-i ru-yi zemiri). Such
epithets, however, are only occasionally elaborated upon, through such comments as
the following: “God the exalted gave power to you [the Khan] and made you padishah
among the people”.24
The Islamic notion o f divine rulership is closely connected to the concept o f a divine
‘world order’ (nizam-i âlem), a notion which figured prominently in Crimean Tatar his­
toriography over the centuries. The idea that God not only created all beings, but also
arranged for them to live together in peace is prevalent in Islamic political literature in
general and in the pre-eighteenth-century Ottoman advice literature for rulers in particu­
lar.25 According to this concept, God ordained a particular place in society for each of

22 Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb ’il s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek; Abdulgaffar Kirrmî, Umdetü 'l-ahbar.
23 See, for instance, Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 119; Hadzy Mehmed
Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, *5; Sabit, Zafername, ed. Karacan,
83. For an introduction to the steppe concept of divine rulership, see A. Sârkôzi, ‘Mandate of
Heaven: Heavenly Support of the Mongol Ruler’, in B. Kellner-Heinkele (ed.), Altaica Beroli-
nensia: The Concept o f Sovereignty in the Altaic World; Permanent International Altaistic
Conference, 34th Meeting, Berlin 21-26 July, 1991 (Wiesbaden 1993), 215-221. On the Otto­
man reception, see for instance R. Murphey, Exploring Ottoman Sovereignty: Tradition, Image
and Practice in the Ottoman Imperial Household, 1400-1800 (London 2008), 78.
24 Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 87. For examples of these epithets, see
ibid., 19; Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, 5; Sabit,
Zafername, ed. Karacan, 84; Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 11Or.
25 On this concept in Ottoman letters, see in particular G. Hagen, ‘Legitimacy and World Order’,
326 D EN ISE K LEIN

its members and assigned to the ruler the duty o f preserving this divine order o f things,
placing him at the top o f the hierarchy and bestowing on him the authority to issue com­
mands. In the words o f a Crimean historian:

God the Exalted saw humans as worthy of being the crown of the wonder [of Creation] and said
[Quran 17:70]: ‘We have honoured the Children of Adam’. But some of them became saints,
some of them prophets, some of them rulers, and some of them subjects.
He has assigned a task to everyone,
He has made us satisfied with this.*
26

In addition to these basic principles relating to the K han’s rule, the histories also men­
tion a series o f attributes that a ruler on the Crimean throne must possess. First and fore­
most, they stress the importance o f justice, which they commonly define as the absence
o f all forms o f oppression (zulm), concluding that a ruler must exercise his power so as to
be “a w olf to the oppressor {zalim) and a sheep to the oppressed (mazlûm)”.27 Following
a view common in Islamic and Ottoman political thought, the texts connect the idea of
justice with obedience to sharia law and the ruler’s ability to maintain the social order
ordained by God. They praise Khans for following the right path o f the sharia and warn
them from going astray and bringing in illicit innovation (b id ’at).28 Furthermore, they
suggest that justice is the main criterion for deciding whether or not a ruler’s authority
was legitimate: the only Khan who could be legitimately removed from power was one
who oppressed his subjects or neglected state affairs in such a way that the people living
under his rule were placed at risk o f oppression.29 However, the works underscore that
a Khan was also to be judged according to his ability to protect his subjects from enemy
attack and to provide for the people in such a way as to enable them to live in peace and
prosperity. Moreover, in the view o f the Khanate’s historians, a good ruler needed to be
prudent in his conduct o f state affairs, to have foresight, and to listen to the right advisors;
he should be merciful, generous, and charitable; and, ideally, he should also possess such
moral virtues as piety, erudition, and kindness, in order to be able to serve as an example
to everyone.
In addition to reflecting such commonplaces o f Islamic and earlier political thought,
the Crimean Tatar historiography also conveys notions o f legitimate authority and good

in H. T. Karateke with M. Reinkowski (eds), Legitimizing the Order: The Ottoman Rhetoric o f
State Power (Leiden 2005), 55-83.
26 Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 19. The translation from the Quran is
based on A. J. Arberry, The Koran Interpreted (London 1955).
27 Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 35. See also Hadzy Mehmed Senai,
Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, V-A; Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Gi­
ray, 17v-l 8r; Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb ’ii ’s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek, 87; Abdulgaffar Kinmî,
Umdetü 'l-ahbar, 317r.
28 See, for instance, Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 50v-51r; Abdulgaffar Kinmî,
Umdetü’l-ahbar, 289r-v.
29 Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 69r; Abdulgaffar Kinmî, Umdetü'l-ahbar, 288r.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN TH E C R IM E A N K H A N ATE 327

rulership that are quite specific to the Khanate inasmuch as they originate in the Khan­
ate’s steppe past. First and foremost, the historians leave no doubt that the Khans’ Geng-
hisid claims committed them to an adherence to Genghisid custom, emphasising how, in
the Khanate, justice and the rule o f law meant not only applying the sharia and preserv­
ing the divine world order, but also adhering to the old ‘law’ or ‘tradition’ (kanun, tore,
âdet) o f Genghis Khan. The texts highlight three such laws or traditions in particular: the
system o f joint rulership, certain rules o f succession, and a particular way o f deploying
troops on campaign.
First, the texts claim that Genghisid tradition required a Genghisid Khan and the four
ruling Tatar clans to share authority over Crimea’s people and resources:

Since the old days, the leaders of the four ruling clans or karaçi are the commanders of their
domains. This is what Genghisid tradition says. The first commander is the bey of the §irin,
the second is the bey of the Mangit, the third is the bey of the Secevit, and the fourth is the bey
of the Argm. The domains belong to their respective families. The beys are the heads of each
house and they are not subject to appointment or dismissal but hold their position for life.30

While the histories reflect the changes in the clan hierarchy over the centuries, they also
underline that the relation between Khan and clans ought not be disputed. However, as
the discussion below will show, the authors had quite different ideas about how this joint
rule should play out in practice. Depending on their particular vision, they stressed dif­
ferent qualities that a Khan ought to possess: he should either rale with a strong hand and
punish any extreme behaviour from the clans, or he should allow the beys great latitude
and be lenient and generous towards them above all. But whatever policy a Khan chose,
he had to find a balance with the clan leaders and convince them o f his commitment to
Crimea’s traditional political constitution.
Second, according to the histories, Genghisid custom had it that the throne o f Geng­
his Khan was reserved for the oldest male member o f the ruling house, irrespective of
whether or not he was actually the Khan’s son. The same rule applied to the Giray princes
appointed to the positions o f kalga and - since its introduction in the later sixteenth cen­
tury - nureddin\ that is, the second and third-in-command in the Khanate, respectively:

The ancient custom of the Genghisids stipulates that if a prince is one day or perhaps only one
hour older than another prince, the younger prince must show respect to and honour the older
prince. Whenever they meet, he must bow to the [older prince]. This is the old and approved
custom that existed among [the Genghisids]; this is how they secured order and discipline. If a
position is given to the younger brother, the older brother must leave Crimea.31

30 Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, V. On this ‘Geng­
hisid law’, see also the short comment in H. inalcik, ‘The Khan and the Tribal Aristocracy: The
Crimean Khanate under Sahib Giray V, Harvard Ukrainian Studies, 3-4 (1979-1980), 445-466,
here 447.
31 Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 107v. See also Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sdhip Giray
Han, ed. Gokbilgin, 20; Abdulgaffar Kinmî, Umdetii ’l-ahbar, 280r. For this principle and com­
peting ideas about succession, see A. Bennigsen with C. Demercier-Quelquejay, ‘La Moscovie,
328 D E N IS E K LE IN

The histories provide several examples to show that only a Khan who respected these
rules o f succession was considered legitimate by the Tatar clans and the population.
Khans who rose to power in violation o f the principle o f seniority were believed to be
doomed because their lack o f authority allowed Crimea’s powerful factions to fight for
influence, plunge the country into chaos, and eventually oust the ruler from the throne.
Finally, the Crimean historians place a great deal o f emphasis on the traditional ar­
rangement o f the Tatar troops in three units with the clans forming the army’s two wings,
which they claim was stipulated by Genghisid law as well: “[The Khan] deployed the
troops according to the old law o f Genghis Khan: on the right wing, there was the com­
mander o f the Çirin, and on the left wing, there was the commander o f the Mangit.”*32
The Crimean Tatar historiography puts forward many more ideas originating in the
steppe tradition and relating to the duties o f the Khan as a military commander. Above
all, the Tatar ruler was expected to personally participate and successfully lead his troops
on campaign, as well as to conduct profitable raids into neighbouring territories. He had
to take into consideration that the Tatars were not equipped for long sieges, as they each
had several horses they needed to feed, and that their main incentive in joining a cam­
paign was the prospect o f booty. Moreover, the Khan was expected to give preference to
the needs o f the Tatars over his obligations to the Ottoman Sultan. More concretely, some
authors suggest that, if necessary, the Khan would do better to arrive late to or withdraw
early from any joint Ottoman-Tatar operation, rather than let his people starve or alienate
the Tatar clans and risk being left alone on the battlefield.33 As a matter o f course, a Khan
was expected to obtain booty that was to be partitioned among the soldiers according to
ancient custom. The notion o f prosperity in the Tatar histories is typically closely con­
nected to captured people, livestock, and valuables.34 Finally, the works also propagate
ideals o f manliness and heroic behaviour. Most notably, they underline how, as succes­
sors to the greatest steppe emperor, the Crimean Khans were expected to be exception­
ally brave, have Genghisid and gazi zeal, and possess a w arrior’s qualities and skills,
such as proficiency with bow and arrow.

l’Empire ottoman et la crise successorale de 1577-1588 dans le Khanat de Crimée. La tradition

nomade contre le modèle des monarchies sédentaires’, Cahiers du Monde Russe et Soviétique,
14(1973), 453-487.
32 Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Hah Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, f 1. See also Rem-
mal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 100; Sabit, Zafername, ed. Karacan, 84-85;
Abdulgaffar Kinmî, Umdetü’l-ahbar, 309v. On Tatar warfare, see L. J. D. Collins, ‘The Mili­
tary Organization and Tactics of the Crimean Tatars, 16th-17th Centuries’, in V. J. Parry with
M. E. Yapp (eds), War, Technology and Society in the Middle East (London 1975), 257-276.
33 See, for instance, Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 26; Mehmed Giray,
Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 36r-37v. On Ottoman-Tatar military co-operation, see M. Ivanics, ‘The
Military Co-operation of the Crimean Khanate with the Ottoman Empire in the Sixteenth and
Seventeenth Centuries’, in G. Karman with L. Kuncevic (eds), The European Tributary States
o f the Ottoman Empire in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Leiden 2013), 275-299.
34 See, for instance, Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 128-129; Hadzy
Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, '"•-VI; Abdulgaffar
Kirimî, Umdetü’l-ahbar, 28lr.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN T H E C R IM E A N K H A N A TE 329

The Sultan and Ottoman suzerainty

The Tatar histories give voice to a number o f ideas regarding the position and duties
o f the Ottoman Sultan. Especially in the later period o f the Khanate, as the Sultan’s
suzerainty over the Khan became real, the Ottoman ruler was a tangible feature of the
Khanate’s political constitution. Overall, the texts represent the Sultan less as a politi­
cal overlord than as a mighty protector and religious leader.35 While they downplay the
Sultan’s political role and deny him any legitimate political claim on the Tatar state, the
texts do invoke some o f the Sultan’s religious functions as a way o f legitimising Ottoman
suzerainty. The attributes deemed important for the Ottoman Sultan are therefore quite
different from those put forward with regard to the Crimean Khans.
One common strategy used in the histories to downplay the Sultan’s political role
in the Khanate is silence: while the Khan is mentioned constantly, the Sultan is strik­
ingly absent in these texts. Every new Tatar ruler is introduced and characterised, but
the advent o f a new Sultan goes largely unmentioned. Changes on the Crimean throne
are reported using formulaic language, which allows for little fuss to be made about the
Ottoman factor in Crimean succession. Those Khans who pursued a policy particularly
independent from Istanbul figure much more prominently in the histories than those who
loyally executed the Sultan’s commands; in fact, one work, the Seven Planets in the
Narratives o f the Tatar Kings, is dedicated to seven Khans singled out for being the
most independent.36 Another technique used to make the Sultan appear insignificant is to
openly contest his political authority. The histories include various reports demonstrating
that the Ottoman ruler was often not in a position to issue binding commands. They show
Khans who ignored imperial orders without facing any consequences, Khans who openly
challenged the validity o f a Sultan’s verdict by sending his envoy back empty-handed,
and Khans who tricked the Ottomans by pretending that certain tribes who had disobeyed
an imperial decree were beyond the reach o f the Tatar ruler’s command, when in fact they
were actually acting on his secret orders.37
Moreover, the Crimean Tatar historiography blurs the Ottoman-Tatar power hierar­
chy to create the impression that the Sultan and the Khan were rulers o f equal rank and
prestige. Some o f the works insinuate that the two rulers established their relationship by
means o f an agreement made when the Ottomans first arrived in the peninsula in 1475.38
In descriptions o f joint campaigns and gift exchange - where the Sultan typically makes

35 This confirms an observation Alan Fisher made 40 years ago: “Crimean historians from the
very beginning never accepted the idea of Crimean Giray subjection to the Ottomans in the po­
litical field, but only in the religious”; see Fisher, ‘Crimean Separatism’, 67-68.
36 Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb 'ii’s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek.
37 See for instance, Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed Abrahamowicz
n _ r Y; Abdulgaffar Kinmî, Umdetii’l-ahbar, 300r-v.
3 8 Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 103r-104r; Abdulgaffar Kirimî, Umdetii ’l-ahbar, 279r.
Scholars have questioned whether such a written agreement ever actually existed; see, in par­
ticular, H. inalcik, ‘Yeni vesikalara gore Kinm Hanhgimn Osmanli tâbiligine girmesi ve ahid-
name meselesi’, Belleten, 8 (1944), 185-229.
330 D EN ISE K LEIN

an actual appearance in the texts - the Khan and the Sultan are represented as peers: they
meet to chat and discuss military strategy and then march forward with their respective
troops against the common enemy. On the occasion o f the accession o f a Khan to the
throne, the Sultan is depicted as presenting the Tatar ruler with treasures, while the Khan,
after a successful raid, sends selected human booty to the imperial palace in Istanbul.
Some depictions o f the Sultan and the Khan as equals are particularly blunt, such as the
following staging o f Sultan Süleyman II (r. 1687-1691) and Khan Selim Giray (here r.
1684-1691) employing metaphors from nature, Ferdowsi’s Book o f the Kings, and the
Quran:

There came together two great rulers.

One called Süleyman, one called Selim. [...]
One was the moon, one was the sun.
One was Khosrow, one was Jamshid.
This was Afrasiyab, and that was Hakan.
This was Alexander the Great, and that was King Salomon.39

Despite all this, the Khan and the Sultan are also represented as rulers o f a differ­
ent sort. In contrast to the former, the latter possessed no legitimate political authority
in the Khanate. The histories acknowledge that the house o f Osman had established its
right to the throne in Istanbul over the course o f generations, but they also insist that, as
non-Genghisids, the Ottomans could not lay political claim to the inheritance o f Genghis
Khan’s empire in Crimea.40 Unlike the Khan, however, the Sultan possessed legitimacy
as a supreme religious leader. The texts explain the Sultan’s role for the Tatars and le­
gitimise Ottoman suzerainty over the Khanate by asserting that he is the refuge for the
world’s Muslims, the leader o f the umma, and the guardian o f the holy cities o f Islam.41
According to the texts, the Sultan was the w orld’s most powerful emperor, the one
who guarded and extended the abode o f Islam and acted as mighty protector to all Mus­

39 Sabit, Zafername, ed. Karacan, 70-71.

40 Only one history labels the Sultans’ recent genealogy as “debated” and their descent since
Noah unknown: Abdulgaffar Kinmî, Umdetii’l-ahbar, 168r, 243r. The other texts describe the
house of Osman, without reservation, as a well-established dynasty; see for instance Hadzy
Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, f t ; Sabit, Zafername,
ed. Karacan, 66; Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 1v; Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb ’ii’s-
seyyar, ed. Kazembek, 3.
41 This is in line with the observations of the eighteenth-century French consul in Crimea and
with the titles the Khans generally used when addressing the Sultan: Peyssonel, Traité, 2:233-
234; H. inalcik, ‘Power relationships between Russia, the Crimea and the Ottoman Empire as
reflected in titulature’, in C. Lemercier-Quelquejay with G. Veinstein, S. E. Wimbush (eds),
Passé turco-tatar, présent soviétique: études offertes à Alexandre Bennigsen (Paris 1986), 175-
211, here 195-202. Titles such as “shadow of God” or “ruler on Earth,” which appear in the his­
tories and allude to a divine mission of the Sultan, seem explicitly connected to these religious
notions and not, as in the case of the Khans, to the exercise of political power; see, for instance,
Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gdkbilgin, 119; Sabit, Zafername, ed. Karacan,
63; Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 13r.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN TH E C R IM E A N K H A N ATE 331

lims. He was the “refuge o f the world” (âlempenah) and the “refuge of all rulers o f the
time” (merci-i havakinu 'z -zaman), titles that are used only for him and never appear in
reference to the Khan.42 The texts accentuate how the Ottoman world dominion is to be
interpreted in religious terms, thereby leaving the Crimean Khans’ right to the heritage
o f the Golden Horde untouched. The epithets used to highlight the Sultan’s power are
“the Sultan o f the Arabs, the Persians, and Rome”, “the Sultan o f Rome”, and “lord of
the two continents and two seas”, thus allowing him no political authority over the for­
mer territories o f the Golden Horde.43 The eighteenth-century historian Seyyid Mehmed
Riza, who elaborates on the issue, first presents an extensive list o f all the lands and seas
that the Ottomans had conquered and thereby included within the abode o f Islam, and
then proceeds to list the domains o f the Golden Horde Khans extending north o f these
territories, from Khwarezm in the east to the Danube in the west. The Crimean Khans
are represented as the heirs to the Golden Horde Khans and their domains. While they
have entered the Sultan’s service in return for special favours, they remained the rulers
o f Kazan and Astrakhan, functioning as the Sultans’ intermediaries in controlling these
areas.44 Put differently, the Sultan was the supreme lord o f the Islamic world, which in­
cluded the Crimean Khanate and explained the fact o f Ottoman suzerainty, but the Khan
was nonetheless the unchallenged lord o f the steppe.
The histories further emphasise the Sultan’s role as leader and protector o f the Islamic
community by invoking the caliphate and the Ottoman Sultans’ guardianship over Is­
lam’s holy sites in M ecca and Medina. Most works, both earlier and later, call the Sultan
“caliph”, “Commander o f the Believers”, or the like.45 With the exception o f Senai’s
panegyric history, which praises the seventeenth-century Khan Islam 111 Giray using ev­
ery possible attribute and title, the texts reserve such epithets for the Sultan and do not
use them to refer to the Khans.46 On the contrary, the Ottomans’ religious leadership was
used as a way o f emphasising the difference between the two rulers, as the following quo­
tation from a discussion among Tatar rebels indicates: “We have not only been rebellious
against the ruler o f the house o f Osman, who is the Padishah o f Islam, but we have also
rebelled against our own Padishah [the Khan]”.47 In addition, several histories mention
that “the House o f Osman [were] the lords over Mecca and Medina” or bestow on the

42 See for instance Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 96; Mehmed Giray,
Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, lv; Abdulgaffar Kirimi, Umdetul-ahbar, 29 lr.
43 See for instance Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 31; Hadzy Mehmed
Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, 1 -' • ; Sabit, Zafername, ed. Kara-
can, 66; Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, lv; Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb’ii’s-seyyar,
ed. Kazembek, 3.
44 Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb ’ii ’s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek, 63-69.
45 See for instance Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 119; Hadzy Mehmed
Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, 5; Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed
Giray, 16v-17r; Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb’ü ’s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek, 3.
46 On this exception, see Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Üçüncü Islam Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamo­
wicz,''.
47 Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 97v.
332 D E N IS E K LE IN

Sultan the title “Custodian o f the Two Holy Mosques” in order to underline his religious
function for the Tatars.48
The attributes that the Crimean historians ascribe to the ruler in Istanbul reflect this
view o f the Sultan as being a religious leader rather than a political overlord for the Ta­
tars, and a powerful world emperor providing protection. First and foremost, the texts
emphasise the virtues o f care, mercy, generosity, benevolence, and piety, while also
pointing out the Sultans’ power and glory. Apart from noting the importance o f choosing
the right advisors in general and not being deceived by people pursuing sinister plans
within Crimea in particular, the histories make no mention o f the qualities that are com­
monly required in a ruler who exercises power, such as those put forward with regard to
the Crimean Khan.49

II. N e g o t ia t in g P o w e r in t h e C r im e a n K h a n a t e

Although the above outline introduces the key notions regarding the Khan’s rule and Ot­
toman suzerainty, it must be said that the image it presents o f Crimean Tatar ideology is
not only static, but often inaccurate inasmuch as it brings together ideas expressed by dif­
ferent authors in different periods for different ends. The following discussion attempts
to put these ideas back into their respective contexts in order to show that Crimean Tatar
political ideology was actually dynamic, accommodating the needs o f different political
actors at different times. Focusing on three o f the seven Tatar histories in particular, it
analyses how people in Crimea used the existing ideological repertoire and enriched it by
introducing new notions applicable to their particular causes. The selected texts represent
the views o f three major political players at the most critical moments in the Khanate’s
history: Remmal H oca’s History o f Khan Sahib Giray reflects the stance o f the Khan’s
favourite during the largest power struggle o f the Khanate’s ‘golden age’ in the sixteenth
century; M ehmed Giray’s History o f Mehmed Giray expresses the opinion o f an exiled
Tatar prince on Crimea’s first severe crisis following defeat in the war against the Holy
League at the end o f the seventeenth century, and Abdulgaffar K inm î’s Pillar of the
Narratives provides the viewpoint o f a member o f the Tatar clans on the Khanate in the
1740s, when it had fully lost its independence and was threatened by Russia’s southern
expansion.

48 See, for instance, Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, lv; Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-
seb’ii’s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek, 65; Abdulgaffar Kirimî, Umdetul-ahbar, 296v.
49 See, for instance, Sabit, Zafername, ed. Karacan, 64-65; Hadzy Mehmed Senai, Ûçüncii Islam
Giray Han Tarihi, ed. Abrahamowicz, V' ; Abdulgaffar Kirimî, Umdetii ’l-ahbar, 317r. On the
attributes that Istanbulite authors commonly ascribe to the Sultan, see M. Kurz, ‘Gracious Sul­
tan, Grateful Subjects: Spreading Ottoman Imperial “Ideology” throughout the Empire’, SI,
new series 3 (2012), 119-148. This paper also mentions the most important studies on the sub­
ject.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN TH E C R IM E A N K H A N ATE 333

Remmal Hoca s apology fo r Khan Sahib Giray’s centralising policies

Remmal H oca’s History o f Khan Sahib Giray, the only historiographical text from six­
teenth-century Crimea, chronicles a decisive episode in the relations between the Crime­
an Khan, the Tatar clans, and the Ottoman Sultan relating to Khan Sahib Giray’s (r. 1532-
1551) attempts to centralise power. Remmal Hoca, an Ottoman polymath in the intimate
service o f Khan Sahib Giray, composed the work at the request o f the Khan’s daughter
after the death o f her father. It provides an enthusiastic account o f the Khan’s entire reign,
focusing on his military expeditions and his struggle against the different coalitions try­
ing to chase him o ff the throne.50
Khan Sahib Giray was an ambitious ruler who, having spent many years in Istanbul
studying the sultanic mode o f rulership, attempted to concentrate power in his own hands
by introducing Ottoman-style military units, unifying the administration, and crushing
his political rivals. The Tatar clans deemed his innovations and authoritarian tendencies a
threat to their position, but competition amongst them hindered their struggle to preserve
the traditional system o f joint rulership and led to shifting alliances. While every party in
the struggle was attempting to obtain the support o f the Sultan in Istanbul, the Ottomans,
for their part, were playing the different groups o ff against each other in order to, on the
one hand, ensure the Tatars’ loyalty and participation for imperial campaigns and, on the
other, to curtail the K han’s ambitions to expand his sphere o f influence beyond the Khan­
ate. During his twenty-year reign, Khan Sahib Giray’s authority was challenged three
times. The first was an attempted coup by his kalga Islam Giray and the most powerful
Tatar clan, the Çirin. In this struggle, the Khan had the support o f the rival Mangit clan
and the Nogay tribal confederation, as well as the backing o f the Sublime Porte, which
ignored letters requesting that the “refuge o f the world” replace Khan Sahib Giray, based
on the claim that he was unable to maintain order (nizam u intizam), acted against Geng-
hisid tradition (tore), brought in illicit innovation {bid’ai), and no longer conducted raids,
all o f which was said to be causing injustice (zulm), internal unrest (fitne u fesad), and
poverty.51 A second violent conflict broke out when the Khan’s Mangit-Nogay confed­
erates turned into his most dangerous adversaries. The Tatar ruler overcame this threat
only because his former opponents from the Sirin clan now became his loyal allies, not
to mention the fact that he still had sufficient support in Istanbul. In the end, however, the
Khan fell victim to his centralising, repressive, and independent policy, which alienated
his supporters in Crimea and Istanbul alike. He was dethroned and murdered in 1551.52

50 For the text’s publication and French translation, see above. On the author, Kaysunizade
Mehmed Nidaî or Remmal Hoca in Crimea, and his oeuvre, see Klein, ‘Historiography’, 96-
103; TDViA s.v. ‘Nidâî’ (S. Ôzçelik).
51 These letters have been published several times: Ô. Gôkbilgin, 1532-1577 yillari arasinda
Kirim Hanligi ’nm siyasi durumu (Ankara 1973), 55-58; idem, ‘Quelques sources manuscrites
sur l’époque de Sahib Giray 1er, Khan de Crimée (1532-1551), à Istanbul, Paris et Leningrad’,
Cahiers du Monde Russe et Soviétique, 11 (1970), 462-469; Bennigsen et al., Le Khanat de
Crimée, 121-129.
52 For an analysis of Khan Sahib Giray’s reign in general and these power struggles in particu-
334 D EN ISE K LE IN

The History o f Khan Sahib Giray is an apology for the fallen Khan’s contested policy
and leadership, an attempt to restore his memory and provide guidance for future rulers
o f Crimea. Though he plainly states his work’s objectives, Remmal Hoca also leaves his
motives for writing open. It is most probable that he was not merely seeking money, but
also felt loyalty, gratitude, and affection for his long-term master and benefactor and, as
an Ottoman who was accustomed to centralised rule, was truly convinced o f the rightness
or necessity o f Khan Sahib Giray’s policy.53 The Khan serves as the lone protagonist of
the work; notwithstanding the author’s origin, the Ottoman Sultan makes an appearance
only twice, first when he confirms the clans’ choice for the Crimean throne, bestowing
on Khan Sahib Giray the traditional insignia o f power, and, second, when he, according
to the text, wrongly deposes the Khan, believing in the truth o f an intrigue between his
greedy advisors and their Giray and clan allies.54 The portrayal o f the Tatar’s overlord in
Istanbul is also perfectly in line with Crimean Tatar political ideology. The history em­
phasises that the Ottoman Sultan was the Muslims’ supreme leader and safe haven, and
that he and the Khan were peers, introducing Sultan Süleyman (r. 1520-1566) as “Sultan
o f the House o f Osman” and Khan Sahib Giray as “Khan o f the House o f Genghis”, two
sovereigns who enjoyed each other’s company and fought side by side against infidels.55
The work begins by proving wrong the different factions that had challenged Khan
Sahib Giray’s position, attesting that his rule was indeed legitimate in both steppe and
Islamic terms. As to the former, the text emphasises that the Khan was chosen by the
leaders o f the ruling clans and ascended the throne only after his older predecessor had
voluntarily abdicated and left the country.56 As to the latter, the text explicitly invokes
the ruler’s divine mission in a preordained world. The Ottoman author, well versed in the

lar, see inalcik, ‘The Khan and the Tribal Aristocracy’. See also Gôkbilgin, 1532-1577yillan
arasinda Kirim. Both authors make intensive use of Remmal Hoca’s history. On the role of
neighbouring powers in these internal conflicts, see Kolodziejczyk, The Crimean Khanate, 71 -
89.
53 On the work’s objectives, see, in particular, Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sahip Giray Hân, ed. Gôk­
bilgin, 19. Remmal Hoca’s presentation is remarkable considering that he spent the last years
of the Khan’s reign in prison, which he hints at in a phrase that may very well represent his true
feelings: “Thank God that in spite of the troubles and suffering I have gone through, my af­
fection for the deceased [Khan] has never vanished from my heart”; see ibid., 149. He speaks
about his imprisonment only in a later work, see Ôzçelik, Nidâî, 77. However, many in Crimea
must have known about it; see, for instance, the mention of his imprisonment in an eighteenth-
century history: Seyyid Mehmed Riza, Es-seb’ii’s-seyyar, ed. Kazembek, 92-93.
54 On the Khan’s inauguration, see Remmal Hoca, Târih-i Sâhip Giray Hân, ed. Gôkbilgin, 20.
On his déposai, see ibid., 113-121. Sultan Stileyman’s advisors reportedly concocted a claim
that the Khan ignored imperial orders, failed to appear on campaign, and attempted to expand
his control so as to include Ottoman territories. The author brings up his intimate knowledge
of the Khan to refute all these accusations, on the contrary stressing how the Khan has always
remained loyal and behaved in an upright manner towards the Sultan.
55 On the Sultan’s religious function, see, for instance, ibid., 29, 119, 139. On the representation
of the Khan and Sultan as peers, including the above quotations, see in particular ibid., 19-20.
56 Ibid., 20.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN T H E C R IM E A N K H A N A TE 335

political literature o f contemporary Istanbul, seems to have played a crucial role in intro­
ducing these Islamic notions in their Ottoman form into Crimean Tatar political thought.
He first presents the new Khan using the epithet “padishah o f mankind and the shadow
of God on Earth”, and then explains the concept o f world order, admonishing the work’s
readers and listeners to accept the place God has allotted to each member o f society.57
Throughout the text, it is repeatedly pointed out that God arranged for the Tatar ruler to
be in a position o f superiority and strength, in particular vis-à-vis the Tatar clans, and that
challenging the Khan’s rule meant challenging G od’s rule:

As the rulers are the shadows of God on Earth,

The one who looks askance at them goes astray. [...]
God gave them knowledge and power,
They always are of the highest rank.
[...] Be attentive, learn from every word you hear.58

In direct response to the charges against Khan Sahib Giray, the history argues that the
deposed Khan's fight for control and his strict exercise o f power had been both G od’s will
and a necessity for rulership in the Khanate. The text highlights the key notion o f justice
and insists that, in order to uphold G od’s regime and the rule o f law, a monarch must be
firmly seated on his throne and his commands must be followed.59 It was therefore “in the
interest o f the world order” that Khan Sahib Giray imprisoned certain Tatar princes who
posed a direct threat to his position and killed rebels like the unruly kalga Islam Giray,
and it was essential that he punish offences relentlessly, applying both sharia and Geng-
hisid law.60 According to the history, it was the K han’s “firm control” (zabt) and the fact
that “his orders were strictly executed” that accounted for the rule o f law and the absence
o f injustice (zulm) during his reign.61 What is more, it was also because o f his rigorous
and brutal exercise o f power that the Tatar beys, out o f fear o f the Khan, abstained from
oppressing the people living in their domains and from committing injustice during raids
and imperial campaigns.62
Stressing a Khan’s obligation to protect and provide for his people, the history claims
that Khan Sahib Giray stood out among the Tatar rulers in terms o f securing peace and
prosperity owing to his authority over the Khanate’s military force and his tough stance
against Crimea’s external enemies, According to the text, the K han’s operations and se­
vere punishments struck neighbouring countries with such awe that they sent gifts to
appease the Tatar ruler instead o f launching attacks against the Khanate. This allowed

57 Ibid., 19.
58 Ibid., 70. See also 68, 87.
59 See for instance ibid., 45, 97, 105.
60 On these measures meant to maintain world order, see ibid., 22-23, 134. On justice in general,
see, for instance, ibid., 34, 106, 119. On sharia law, see, for instance, ibid., 26-27, 31, 103. On
Genghisid custom, see, for instance, ibid., 27-28, 49, 71. On the Khan’s determined actions
against oppression, see, for instance, ibid., 27, 93-94, 98.
61 Ibid., 131. See also ibid., 32, 35.
62 See, for instance, ibid., 32-34, 70-71, 101-102.
336 D E N IS E K LEIN

the people living in the Khan’s realm to attend to their business, and enabled the Khan­
ate’s economy to thrive as never before. In addition, the text asserts, the Khan’s raids
and campaigns brought the Tatars immense amounts o f booty, and the ruler added to the
country’s wealth through his legendary generosity and charity.63
In this context, the history’s detailed description o f warfare and army tactics reads
like an answer to the allegation that Khan Sahib Giray’s new military units constituted
an illicit innovation violating Genghisid tradition. The text emphasises how, on the oc­
casion o f every expedition, the Khan deployed the soldiers according to the old custom,
while adding his own new troops. It argues that the record that this combination o f tradi­
tional Tatar warfare and new technology brought significant military advantages, which
at times proved crucial for the success of an expedition.64 Highlighting the Khan’s merits
as a military commander and great steppe warrior “who drew the bow like no one else,
no Circassian, no Turk, and no Nogay”, the history pardons his failed expeditions and
hides his strategic mistakes well between the lines.65 At the same time, the text’s failure
to mention certain attributes o f the Khan, most notably kindness and mercy, can be read
as covert criticism. However, these virtues appear to be o f only minor relevance, given
the exceptional challenges o f rulership in the Khanate in general and during Khan Sahib
Giray’s reign in particular.
Overall, the history creates the image o f an ideal Islamic steppe ruler who should
serve as an example to future Khans, but who was unfortunately misjudged by his con­
temporaries.66 The text goes far beyond simply establishing the legitimacy o f Khan Sahib
Giray’s rule, narrating his accomplishments, and mourning his deposition and murder: it
demonstrates that he was precisely the kind o f ruler that the Khanate needed at the time,
and it reasons that his end may well have marked the end o f a golden age. Expressing
concern about the Tatars’ future if no similarly strong Khan arises to protect the Khanate
from injustice and enemies, the history closes with a report o f the recent developments,
suggesting that Crimea was indeed moving towards gloomier times. According to the
text, the powerful Khan Sahib Giray was ousted so that greedy people in Istanbul and
Crimea could abuse their position for their own personal enrichment. The new ruler on
the Crimean throne immediately seized the rich treasury in order to buy off the Tatar

63 On the relation between the Khan’s military actions and the Tatars’ safety and prosperity, see,
in particular, ibid., 81, 95, 113. On booty, see, for instance, ibid., 31, 80, 128-129. On the
Khan’s personal generosity and charity, see, for instance, ibid., 25, 74, 82.
64 See, for instance, ibid. 61-63, 72-75, 112-113. On the Khan’s military expeditions and tactics
based on Remmal Hoca’s history, see V. Ostapchuk, ‘Crimean Tatar Long-Range Campaigns:
The View from Remmal Khoja’s History o f Sahib Gerey Khan’, in B. J. Davies (ed.), Warfare
in Eastern Europe, 1500-1800 (Leiden 2012), 147-171.
65 Remmal Hoca, Tarih-i Sahip Giray Hân, ed. Gokbilgin, 131. See also ibid., 20, 101. For con­
cealed criticism of the Khan’s military decisions, see, for instance, the account of the ruler’s
first campaign to Circassia: ibid., 41-42. See also the account of his third Caucasus campaign.
According to one manuscript, the Khan was unaware that the expedition was bound to fail,
while according to another manuscript he ignored a sheikh’s warning to that effect: ibid. 86.
66 For a summary of this idea at the end of the history, see ibid., 130-131.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN TH E C R IM E A N K H A N ATE 337

beys and the local population. The fallen Khan, together with all his male offspring, was
murdered in cold blood. Seven beys o f the leading Çirin clan were slain in revenge.67

Mehmed Giray s attempt to restore confidence after Karlowitz

When Mehmed Giray penned his History o f M ehmed Giray one and half centuries after
Remmal Hoca’s History o f Khan Sahib Giray, the Khanate was in the midst o f a severe
crisis brought about by defeat in the war with the Holy League (1683-1700), a crisis
that would usher in the Khanate’s last century o f slow decline. Mehmed Giray, a Tatar
prince who spent much o f his life in exile but maintained close contact with his powerful
relatives in Crimea, wrote the history in 1703 on his own initiative, for his peers and a
primarily Tatar audience. This is the only work from the Khanate that discusses Tatar and
Ottoman history together, chronicling the years from the failed second Siege o f Vienna
in 1683 through the 1703 ‘Edime Event’ that deposed Sultan Mustafa II (r. 1695-1703).68
The Ottoman-Tatar war against the Holy League —an Austrian-Polish-Venetian co­
alition formed after the Siege o f Vienna in 1683, which Russia joined in 1686 - shook
Crimea and Crimean Tatar political ideology to their very foundations. The Tsardom
launched its initial attacks on the peninsula, seizing the Black Sea stronghold o f Azov.
The subsequent peace treaties o f Karlowitz and Istanbul (1699/1700) prohibited the Ta­
tars from raiding neighbouring territories, thus putting an end to the lucrative slave trade
and ransom business and threatening the livelihoods o f many, while also prompting some
clan leaders to advocate independence from Istanbul. External pressures and economic
distress led to internal conflicts. The Khans were caught between the interests o f the
Tatar clans and those o f the Ottoman Sultan, resulting in seven changes on the Crimean
throne between 1683 and 1703, more than ever before. All this was difficult to reconcile
with fundamental ideas regarding the Khan’s rule and Ottoman suzerainty. The devastat­
ing defeat at the hands o f an alliance o f Christian powers challenged the Sultan’s role as
the mighty protector o f Muslims against the enemies o f the faith. Moreover, the Khans’
claim to the heritage o f the Golden Horde was hardly convincing any longer after the
peace treaties confirmed the territorial integrity o f neighbouring countries, ended the trib­
ute payments o f Russia and Poland to the Crimean Khans, and eliminated the Khanate’s
position as intermediary between the Tsar and the Sultan. The oft referenced autonomy
o f the Tatar state was not a reflection o f reality during these years o f crisis, when there
were few opportunities to pursue an independent policy. What is more, the fact that the
Khans were at the mercy o f the clans and the Sultan, and that the Khan was constantly
changing, did not accord with the idea o f a divine mandate to power. Last but not least,
how could the Khans credibly claim to be good rulers in light o f these unprecedented
military defeats, political turmoil, and economic hardship?69

67 Ibid., 114-116, 134-145.

68 For the autograph and (partial) editions of the text, see above. On the author and his history, see
Klein, ‘Historiography’, 114-123.
69 For a historical overview of this era, see H. inalcik, ‘Struggle for East-European Empire, 1400-
338 D E N IS E K LE IN

The History o f M ehmed Giray seeks to provide answers to these questions. It is an

attempt to restore confidence not only in the Giray dynasty, securing the family’s hold
on power, but also in the bond between Tatars and Ottomans, speaking out against calls
for Tatar independence. It offers an explanatory model based on the idea o f world order
so as to make sense o f the recent crisis and to frame the author’s own political agenda.
The work proposes that, up until the Siege o f Vienna, God’s regime had been basically
in place: the Ottoman Sultan was the leader and the safe haven o f the Islamic commu­
nity, the protector o f Mecca and Medina who expanded the abode o f Islam through new
conquests. The Crimean Khan, meanwhile, was the lord o f the steppe and a champion
o f Islam, receiving tribute from Moscow and other neighbours that allowed the Tatars
to enjoy peace and prosperity.70 Discussing the different aspects o f the “disaster [that]
befell the umma” in 1683, the text acknowledges people’s anxieties and disillusionment,
but cautions that one must not question the Khan’s rule or the nature o f Tatar-Ottoman
relations.71 Instead, one must read the phenomenon o f crisis as a sign indicating that the
world was in chaos, and must look to the reasons why the rulers o f the time had fallen
short in terms o f maintaining God’s order. Mehmed Giray identifies three such causes,
discussing them each in a separate chapter, while also presenting the events as part o f a
historical account in order to support his conclusions.72
Emphasising the key notion o f justice, the author first argues that injustice and op­
pression (zulm u taaddi) caused the withdrawal o f God’s support in battle.73 The work
underscores the notion that rule o f law is crucial for maintaining the preordained order
and receiving G od’s favour.74 The recent disrespect for sharia law is blamed on a lack o f
moral values, especially greed for power and money. For instance, according to the text,
the Ottomans’ decision to wage war on the Habsburgs in 1683 was made in violation
o f sharia law, out o f greed and arrogance, and the Sultan’s army was deprived o f God’s
support in combat because the soldiers were remunerated with money obtained through
the oppressive extraction of taxes by greedy tax farmers.75 Though Mehmed Giray fo­

1700: The Crimean Khanate, Ottomans and the Rise of the Russian Empire’, Milletler Arasi
Münasebetler Turk Yilligi, 21 (1982-1991), 1-16; R. A. Abou-El-Haj, ‘The Formal Closure of
the Ottoman Frontier in Europe: 1699-1703’, Journal o f the American Oriental Society, 89
(1969), 467-475; Bennigsen et al., Le Khanat de Crimée, 12-13, 342-347; A. W. Fisher, The
Russian Annexation o f the Crimea 1772-1783 (Cambridge 1970), 17-18.
70 Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, lv-2r, 7v.
71 Ibid., 3r.
72 I have examined this separate chapter - which is entitled ‘The Three Reasons for the Weakness
of the Ottoman State’ and which begins with a summary of the different phenomena of crisis,
from military defeats to inflation to divine signs like earthquakes and eclipses - in another ar­
ticle: D. Klein, “‘Das Chaos der Welt.” Ein krimtatarischer Blick auf die Zeit um 1700’, in Y.
Kôse (ed.), $ehrâyîn: Die Welt der Osmanen, die Osmanen in der Welt. Wahrnehmungen, Be-
gegnungen und Abgrenzungen; Festschrift Prof. Hans Georg Majer (Wiesbaden 2012), 157-
172.
73 Mehmed Giray, Tarih-i Mehmed Giray, 67r-v.
74 See, for instance, ibid., 17v-18r, 47v.
75 Ibid., 2r-5v, 67r-v. For examples of particularly excessive taxation and oppression, see ibid.,
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN T H E C R IM E A N K H A N ATE 339

cuses on injustice and moral decay in the Sultan’s realm and praises several Khans for
their moral virtues and strict adherence to sharia law and Genghisid tradition, he also
acknowledges that problems o f a similar kind existed in Crimea as well, and that some
o f his relatives in power must not be absolved o f their own role in contributing to the
Muslims’ loss o f divine support.76
The discussion o f the actual politics in Istanbul that led to the military defeats, pre­
sented as the second cause o f the crisis, emphasises the Sultan’s role as a religious, rather
than a political and military, leader. According to the text, the constant changes in the
Ottoman grand vizierate, in conjunction with negligence and incompetence in military
matters on the part o f Ottoman statesmen, led to disastrous campaign planning and poor
performance on the battlefield, and, in the end, to the loss o f Islamic lands to the infidels
and the humiliation o f the umma. While the Sultans are not charged with lacking the
qualities o f military leadership, they are blamed for choosing the wrong men to govern
the Empire, and, out o f negligence, giving them full discretionary power. Consistent
with Crimean Tatar political ideology, the history assigns little involvement in decision­
making to the Ottoman ruler, instead highlighting his function as the refuge o f the world,
Caliph, and guardian o f the holy sites o f Islam, as well as attributes such as generosity,
mercy, and piety.77
The text establishes the Khan as the military arm and natural counterpart o f the Mus­
lims’ supreme leader and protector in Istanbul. It recommends that the rulers o f Crimea
should serve as advisors in military matters, complaining that much trouble could have
been avoided if their counsel had not fallen on deaf ears.78 Individual Khans are also
presented as great commanders and warriors possessing the traditional virtues o f a steppe
ruler, being placed in the service o f God in general and o f the Ottoman “religion and
state” (din ü devlet) in particular.79 Failures on the battlefield are attributed not to a lack

15v-18v, 24r. Istanbul’s political elite is, overall, labelled haughty and corrupt. Moreover, some
officials are accused of illicit innovations and decadence, such as, for instance, certain Ottoman
pashas depicted as wallowing in pleasure rather than fighting the enemy; see ibid., 50v, 63v-64r.
76 On the particularly virtuous and law-abiding rulers Khan Murad Giray, Khan Selim Giray, and
Khan Devlet Giray, see, in particular, ibid., 6v, 7v; 23r; 79v-80r, 107r-v. On the “bad Khan”
par excellence, Khan Safa Giray, who only came to power because he had bribed the Ottoman
Grand Vizier, see, in particular, ibid., 38v-39r, 40v-43v, 100r-100v. He is depicted as a greedy,
stingy, envious, and crooked drunkard who violated sharia law, oppressed the people, mistreat­
ed his soldiers, neglected state affairs, and failed to fulfil his duties towards the Sultan and the
Islamic community.
77 On the second cause of the crisis, see ibid., 67v-68v. On the Sultan’s religious function, see also
ibid., lv, 17r, 40v. For praise and criticism of the Sultans, see, for example, Sultan Siileyman
II, who is described as “a dervish type who said ‘yes’ to whatever he was told”, and despite be­
ing acclaimed for his piety and kindness, is accused of leaving state affairs to his eunuchs and
servants, with the result that “the world was all in a tumble”: ibid., 18r, 38v, 40v.
78 For example, Khan Murad Giray cautioned, to no avail, the Ottoman Grand Vizier, who was
typically given carte blanche by the Sultan, against making certain strategic mistakes during
the Siege of Vienna: ibid., 2v, 4r-v.
79 See, for instance, ibid., 49r, 55r, 72v.
340 D E N IS E K LE IN

o f skill, but rather to certain K hans’ moral weaknesses and to Ottoman interference.80 ln
spite o f occasional setbacks, the text claims that it was the Khan and his soldiers, not the
Sultan with his immense army and abundant monetary resources, who accounted for the
protection o f the abode o f Islam and the honour o f the umma, both in the past and dur­
ing the recent years o f crisis, when nothing less than Rumelia and Istanbul as well as the
banner o f the Prophet Muhammad would have fallen into the hands o f the infidels had it
not been for the Tatars.81
The third and most important reason why the world was in chaos concerns the weak­
ening o f the Khan’s authority. The text argues that the recent depositions o f Tatar rulers
constituted an infringement o f the divine law and order. It maintains that the Khans were
the legitimate rulers o f Crimea because they belonged to an old ruling house descended
from Genghis Khan, chosen by God to act on His behalf. According to sharia law, as the
text explains, an Islamic ruler could not be deposed: it was God alone who could judge
a ruler for his faults. Men could only remove an illegitimate ruler, particularly, one who
had gone astray and attempted to alter the order by illicit innovations, and refused to
return to the right path.82 According to Mehmed Giray, none o f this was the case with the
Khans, who had been replaced because greed, ignorance, and negligence - rather than
law - governed much o f the political elite in Crimea and Istanbul.83
The history puts special emphasis on demonstrating how this disrespect for God’s
regime prevented the Khans from fulfilling the role ascribed to them. They could neither
prevent injustice nor lead a strong Tatar army to fight for the Sultan and the faith, be­
cause as soon as they tried to exercise their authority, they risked losing the throne. All
the Khans’ efforts were consequently directed towards striking a balance between the
Sultan, who constantly demanded troops, and the Tatar clans, who shirked campaigns to
conduct independent actions instead. The history highlights that, once order is restored
and the Khan back in his position, justice, prosperity, and God’s support would return to
the Khanate.84 Because of the K han’s central role for the Islamic world, glorious days
awaited:

80 For example, the devastating defeat at Slankamen in 1691 and the death of numerous Tatar sol­
diers from starvation and disease are ascribed to Khan Saadet Giray’s short temper, bossiness,
and venality, as well as to the Ottoman pashas’ arrogance and ignorance: ibid., 32r-38r.
81 Ibid., 22v, 23v, 5r-v. The decisive defeat at Zenta in 1697 reportedly only occurred because the
Habsburgs - fearing the Khan and his soldiers but not the “cowardly” Sultan - attacked after
the Tatars had left the battlefield to raid: ibid., 74v-77v. Also, during Sultan Siileyman’s reign
(r. 1520-1566), for instance, “the Khan [...] was the reason why the German kingdoms were
destroyed and prostrated before the late Sultan”: ibid., 70v.
82 See, in particular, ibid., 12r, 69r.
83 See, for instance, the account of Khan Haci Giray, which combines criticism of the prince and
later Khan, the Tatar clans, the Ottoman Grand Vizier, and Sultan Mehmed IV: ibid., 6r-7v, 9v-
12v.
84 See, for instance, the case of Khan Devlet Giray: ibid., 70v-71r, 79v-80r, 94r-95r, 107r-v. The
Ottoman Grand Vizier who rejected a Tatar request to remove this Khan is praised for restoring
the world order, and accordingly given his own separate chapter; see ibid., 113r-v.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W ER IN TH E C R IM E A N K H A N ATE 341

If things were different than described here, if the Crimean Khans were not deposed upon [the
Tatar clans’] request, if they were independent Khans, if their orders were executed, and if the
beys and mirzas were kept under control, then [...] not only the Germans, but even the cursed
Pope would be frightened and the motherland would shine bright again; that’s for sure!85

By rationalising the late seventeenth-century crisis as a departure from the divine

order, caused by injustice and general moral decay, governmental failure in Istanbul, and
offences against the Khan’s authority, the history turns any criticism o f the existing po­
litical constitution into criticism o f the political elite. This way o f framing events allows
the author to restore confidence in the Khan’s rule and the Ottoman-Tatar alliance and
to present his own political programme as the only way out o f the crisis. By establish­
ing the Sultan as the guardian and the Khan as the military spearhead o f Islam, the text
ties together the destinies o f Tatars, Ottomans, and all Muslims, and suggests that their
future depends on the fate o f the Crimean Khans. Consequently, the work calls upon the
different political actors in Crimea and Istanbul to return to the preordained order and to
let the Sultan and the Khan resume their respective roles. First and foremost, they must
reinstate the rule o f law, be prudent in political decision-making, and stop weakening the
position o f the Giray Khans.

Abdulgaffar K in m î’s quest fo r joint rulership between Khan and clans

Ultimately, the situation in Crimea and the Islamic world did not change in the way that
Mehmed Giray had envisioned and hoped. On the contrary, Ottoman suzerainty became
more thorough and the Tatar state found itself under increased external threat when, in
1748, Abdulgaffar Kirimî wrote his Pillar o f the Narratives, the only history to represent
the perspective o f the Tatar clans. A member o f the leading §irin clan and a former high
official o f the Çirin bey and o f several Khans, Abdulgaffar Kirimî had been sent into
exile and apparently hoped to change his fate by offering his work to the ruler. Dealing
with the w orld’s dynasties from the time o f creation, his universal history focuses on the
Genghisid Khans up through Khan Selamet Giray (r. 1740-1743), as well as on the §irin
clan. Appended to it is an annotated clan genealogy and an ilm-i hal,86
At the time Abdulgaffar Kirimî penned his history, the Khanate was in serious trou­
ble. The changing balance o f power in Europe, peace treaties sanctioning Tatar raids, and
Ottoman intervention all threatened the Khanate’s integrity, stability, and peace. Russia
had invaded the peninsula in 1736 and 1737, sacking most o f Crimea’s towns, includ-

85 Ibid., 70r-v.
86 For the autograph and partial editions, see above. On the author and his work, see Klein, ‘His­
toriography’, 132-139; B. Kellner-Heinkele, ‘Who was 'Abdulghaffar el-Qinml? Some Notes
on an 18th Century Crimean Tatar Historian’, Journal o f Asian History, 32 (1998), 145-156.
For the genre of ilm-i hal, manuals of religious and moral instruction for the wider public, see
Derin Terzioglu, ‘Where 'ilm-i Hal Meets Catechism: Islamic Manuals of Religious Instruc­
tion in the Ottoman Empire in the Age of Confessionalization’, Past and Present, 220 (2013),
79-114.
342 D E N IS E K LE IN

ing Bahçesaray and the Khan’s palace, and leaving behind great destruction, political
turmoil, and a population on high alert. By then, if not even earlier, it was evident that
the Tsardom’s southern expansion posed a constant danger to the Tatars and that the Ot­
toman Empire could not protect them. At this point, the Khans had fully submitted to
the Sultans in Istanbul, and they would be immediately replaced whenever they failed to
comply with imperial orders or abstained from participating in campaigns. Given nearly
two decades o f constant warfare - against Persia from 1730 to 1735 and again from
1743 to 1746, and against Russia and Austria from 1735 to 1739 - this proved to be an
excessive burden and resulted in regular changes on the Crimean throne, in particular
because the Khans’ authority vis-à-vis the landholding clans and the Khanate’s main
military force had been dwindling rapidly throughout the eighteenth century, when there
was less booty to distribute. The clans, in turn, feared that they would be marginalised
by the closer Ottoman-Giray alliance, and apparently also saw their position as being
challenged by the service-based nobility, which had developed out o f several Khans’
centralising policies, beginning with Khan Sahib Giray in the sixteenth century. The
beys regularly turned to independent action and unauthorised raids, and sometimes even
advocated Tatar independence.87
The Pillar of the Narratives reflects these new dynamics in the Khanate, reassuring
the author’s tribal peers o f their importance while warning the Khan and court circles
against simply writing off the Tatar clans. The work describes the Khanate’s system of
joint rulership, drawing on the notion of world order, and calls upon the Khan and the beys
to maintain God’s regime and to abide by his law. Allegedly, “God set the order ( nizam)"
that a Genghisid Khan and the four ruling beys would govern the Khanate together, and
that without the beys’ consent no order could be executed. The text also claims that God
specified the hierarchy among the karaçi beys - first the $irin, second the Mangit, third
the Barm, and fourth the Secevit - and assigned clear roles to the other powerful groups in
Crimean society; that is, to the leading ulema and sheikhs, the mirzas o f various clans, and
the wise elders at the Khan’s court.88 The Sultan in Istanbul, in the author’s view, always

87 For a historical overview, see Fisher, The Russian Annexation, 17-25; Bennigsen et al., Le
Khanat de Crimée, 12-13, 348-352; Uzunçarçih, Osmanli Tarihi, 4, (Ankara 1983 [2nd ed.]),
10-22. On the rise of a “new nobility”, see D. Kofodziejczyk, ‘Ottoman vs. Crimean Tatar
Elites in the 17th Century: A Comparative Approach’, in M. Sariyannis (ed.), New Trends in
Ottoman Studies: Papers Presented at the 20th CIEPO Symposium, Rethymno, 27 June-1 July
2012 (Rethymno 2014), 609-616. The history of Said Giray suggests that certain families dom­
inated at the Khan’s court in the eighteenth century as well. It is, moreover, noticeable that the
‘who’s who’ section of the work lists first the Khan’s officials and only second, and much more
briefly, the members of the Tatar clans: Kellner-Heinkele, Aus den Aufzeichnungen, 96-112.
88 Abdulgaffar Kirimî, Umdetul-ahbar, 318r. On the role of the karaçi beys in Genghisid states,
see U. Schamiloglu, ‘The Qaraçi Beys of the Later Golden Horde: Notes on the Organiza­
tion of the Mongol World Empire’, Archivum Eurasiae Medii Aevii, 4 (1984), 283-298; D.
Kofodziejczyk, ‘Divided Sovereignty in the Genghisid States as Exemplified by the Crimean
Khanate: “‘Oriental Despotism” à reboursT, Acta Slavica Iaponica, 32 (2012), 1-21. The for­
mer paper also relies on Abdulgaffar Kirimi’s history.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W ER IN T H E C R IM E A N K H A N A TE 343

remained an outsider to the Tatars’ world and Crimean politics.89 His role is defined as
that o f the “refuge o f the world” and “crown o f all Islamic kings”, who bears the Prophet
Muhammad’s banner and protects the holy sites o f Islam. However, the text bemoans the
fact that, in recent years, the Ottoman rulers had often failed to fulfil their role and, rather
than protecting the Islamic lands, interfered in Crimean affairs.90
Abdulgaffar Kirimî judges a Khan’s reign primarily according to his relations with
the clan leaders, emphasising in this context certain qualities o f a Crimean ruler that were
considered o f particular importance. First and foremost, the text claims that a Khan must
acknowledge the beys' authority and treat them with due respect. Rulers who “restored
order by winning the hearts o f Crimea’s beys" or took pains to govern the country “all
together” in “the Khanate way” are praised and said to be blessed with success, whereas
rulers who had positive qualities but who nevertheless tried to alter the traditional order
by introducing illicit innovations “intolerable” to the “the actual owners o f Crimea” , or
who violated the karagi beys' traditional rights by seizing clan property, are excoriated
and presented as eventually failing and being ousted from the throne.91 At the same time,
the text also insists a Khan must be tough and assertive in his dealing with the clans. If he,
for instance, turned to the Sultan for assistance, he was doomed.92 The history emphasis­
es that a Khan must also win the beys over, most notably by buying their loyalty. He had
to be generous and “besiege” them with gifts on the occasion o f his accession and then,
throughout his reign, he must secure a constant influx o f booty for the clan leaders and
their soldiers.93 As such, the attributes o f a great warrior, army commander, and raider
play a key role in Abdulgaffar K inm î’s descriptions o f good rulers.94 The text points out
that a lack o f booty constituted a serious challenge not only to the position o f the ruler,
but also to the Khanate’s inner stability and peace.95 Finally, the work also highlights the

89 The text does not conceal the Ottoman presence in Crimea, nor the fact that Istanbul deposed
and installed the Khan and summoned the Tatars to appear on campaign, but it does keep dis­
cussion of the Sultan’s role to a minimum and treats Ottoman history in a different section of
the work, see Abdulgaffar Kinmi, Umdetii’l-ahbar, 168r-242v.
90 On the Sultan’s role, see, for instance, ibid., 291r, 296v, 303v. On Ottoman interference, see,
for instance, ibid., 285r, 294r, 305r. First and foremost, Istanbul is held responsible for the dev­
astation of 1736 and 1737 because it overstrained the Tatars on campaign, lacked trust in the
Khan, and did not provide the necessary military assistance: ibid., 308v-311r, 313v-315r.
91 For the two positive examples quoted, Khan Selim Giray and Khan Mengli II Giray, see ibid.,
289v-290r, 289v margins; 305r-v. For the two negative examples quoted, Khan Adil Giray and
Khan Haci Giray, see ibid., 288v-289v; 290r. Other examples of failed Khans include Khan
Saadet Giray and Khan Safa Giray: ibid., 290v.
92 See, for instance, the case of Khan Saadet IV Giray: ibid., 304r-305r.
93 Examples of generous Khans include Khan Kaplan Giray, Khan Saadet IV Giray, and Khan
Mengli II Giray: ibid., 294v margins, 308r; 303v, 304v; 305r, 316v.
94 These attributes are mentioned for almost all Crimean Khans. For examples from the sixteenth,
seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, see ibid., 282r, 284v; 286r, 29 lr; 29 lv margins, 307v,
3 llr.
95 For example, the old and sick Khan Selim Giray “did not have the strength to conduct raids so
as to establish order in Crimea”: ibid., 290v.
344 D EN ISE KLEIN

virtue o f mercy, as this is presented as a means o f overcoming Crimea’s regular rivalries

and hostilities in order to jointly rule the country and protect it from enemies.96 Leniency
towards remorseful rebels is shown as a tactic that often pays off in the long run, as it
turns a ruler’s rivals into his ardent supporters.97
Besides establishing the clans’ position vis-à-vis the Khans, the history also focuses
on legitimising Çirin leadership among the four ruling clans. The author claims, as men­
tioned above, that God arranged for the §irin bey to assume the role o f the head o f the
karagi beys. He stresses his clan’s independent heritage and traditional rights, append­
ing to his history an annotated genealogy o f the Çirin going all the way back to the
Golden Horde and asserting that the §irin beys’’ position goes back to their and the Giray
Khans’ ancestors, who pledged each other loyalty forever.98 The text also attests that,
ever since these beginnings, the clan leaders had acquired legitimacy by marrying Geng-
hisid wives.99 Moreover, the history highlights the Çirin beys’ significance and achieve­
ments in terms o f securing the Tatars’ safety and comfort. It demonstrates that under their
leadership, the clans acted in the interest o f God’s law and order, counterbalancing the
power o f the Giray Khans while also serving them loyally.100 It shows that, contrary to
the common idea that the clans were unreliable, the beys and mirzas were in fact gener­
ally courageous and trustworthy and played a major role in protecting the country and
fighting the enemy.101 The text speaks highly o f most of the leading figures from the Sirin
and, drawing on the same legitimising vocabulary used for the Khans, stresses the virtues
o f justice and bravery, as well as the importance o f the qualities o f a raider. At the same
time, the author whitewashes the reputation o f certain controversial figures and argues

96 For example, Khan Islam III Giray’s reign is labeled “a very good era” not only because the
ruler was exceptionally generous and led legendary raids into Russia, but also because he was
kind and merciful towards the troublemakers of 1645, when a major conflict broke out be­
tween the karaçi beys and the Khan’s vizier on one side and the Khan’s personal troops and
kalga on the other: ibid., 288r-288v, 288v margins. On this conflict, see TDVlA s.v. ‘islâm Gi­
ray III’ (H. inalcik).
97 See, for example, Cavim Mirza, who was pardoned by Khan Devlet Giray: Abdulgaffar
Kmmî, Umdetii ’l-ahbar, 292v-293r, 292r margins-293v margins, 296v.
98 For the appendix, see ibid., 318r-322v. On the ancestors Rtiktemir and the Golden Horde Khan
Toktamish, see ibid., 266v-269v, 318r-v. On their legendary story and the history of the $irin
in general, see M. Ivanics, ‘Die Çirin. Abstammung und Aufstieg einer Sippe in der Steppe’, in
D. Klein (ed.), The Crimean Khanate between East and West (15th-18th Century) (Wiesbaden
2012), 27-44.
99 On the first such marriage, that of the §irins’ ancestor Rtiktemir, see Abdulgaffar Kmmî,
Umdetii 'l-ahbar, 269r-v.
100 For example, they vehemently opposed a Caucasus expedition by Khan Kaplan Giray because
it was unlawfully targeting reaya, but participated and perished when their advice fell on deaf
ears: ibid., 294v-296r.
101 For instance, against the Russians in 1710/1711: ibid., 296v. According to the text, even the
Nogays, the most notorious troublemakers among the Tatars, would never defect to the unbe­
lievers because “they knew that they belonged to the umma of Muhammad”: ibid., 292v, 297r
(quote). For a rare example of Çirin disloyalty, see ibid., 293r-v.
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W E R IN T H E C R IM E A N K H A N A TE 345

that, as far as the few bad apples are concerned, the clan leaders took matters into their
own hands, for example by exiling a mirza who had “committed injustice, besmearing
the honour o f the §irin”.102 The history underscores how, assuming the clans were to
continue to play the positive role they had played for centuries, there was no alternative
to Çirin leadership. While the text makes little mention o f the Barm and Secevit clans
and marginalises Crimea’s service-based nobility, it pays a good deal o f attention to the
Mangit, the second-ranking ruling clan and the only one to ever challenge the Çirin’s
position. This clan’s independent heritage and their service to the Crimean Khans are pre­
sented both as distinctly inferior to the heritage and service o f the §irin, and as problem­
atic in and o f themselves. Subtly hinting that the clan’s ancestor was a contested figure,
the text suggests that the Mangits “inherited” from him “the desire for world domination”
and were therefore especially volatile and a potential threat to order. As proof o f this,
the history cites the short period in the seventeenth century when the Mangit obtained
supremacy among the four ruling clans, emphasising how this experiment ended badly
and resulted in the Çirin being reinstalled as karagi beys. “And to this day,” the universal
history ends, “the Çirin, owing to their traditional and continuing loyalty and service,
possess high titles and are beys o f great reputation!”103
In conclusion, the different notions introduced to describe the Khanate’s main politi­
cal players and their role in history culminate in the author's demand that the political
system o f Crimea be left untouched, with the steppe model o f joint rulership between a
Genghisid Khan and the four ruling Tatar clans under the leadership o f the Sirin bey, and
religious guidance from the Ottoman Sultan. In order to present this traditional political
make-up as legitimate, well established, and beneficial, the author draws on the Islamic
notion o f world order, the Khanate’s steppe heritage, the intrinsic historical and personal
ties between the Giray Khans and the four ruling clans, as well as on practical consider­
ations. The text emphasises how no Crimean Khan could do without the support or, at
the very least, the sufferance o f the karagi beys in general and the §irin bey in particular,
thereby promoting a set o f virtues for the Crimean Khan that was primarily informed by
steppe notions o f good rulership.

102 For examples of virtuous Çirins, including a couple of promising young mirzas whom the au­
thor personally promotes, see, in particular, the genealogy: ibid., 319r-322v. The most promi­
nent case of whitewashing concerns the Çirin bey Cantimur, whom the author had served as
cadi. The text praises the bey and claims that his rebellion, which deposed Khan Saadet Gi­
ray, was not about power or booty, but rather a fight over a girl that escalated: ibid., 320r-322r,
304r-305r. On this rebellion, see B. Kellner-Heinkele, ‘Coping with the Rules of Rulership:
Sa'adet Gerey Khan III in Crimean Tatar and Ottoman Historiography’, Finnisch-Ugrische
Mitteilungen, 32-33 (2010), 279-290; G. Veinstein, ‘La révolte des mirza tatars contre le Khan
1724-1725’, Cahier du Monde russe et soviétique, 12 (1971), 327-338. For the case of the ex­
iled mirza, see Abdulgaffar Kinmî, Umdetü ’l-ahbar, 321 v.
103 The genealogical appendix presents the Mangits after the Çirin and much more briefly: ibid.,
322v-324r. On their ancestor, the Golden Horde emir Edige, as well as their failed leadership,
see ibid., 286v, 287r margins-288r margins, 324r (quotes). For another example of trouble
with the Mangits, see ibid., 289v-290r.
346 D E N IS E K LEIN

III. C o n c l u s io n

Presenting historiography as a key genre in the study o f political thought and practice,
these notes on Crimean Tatar notions o f political authority and their use in the process
o f negotiating power highlight the unique heritage o f the Crimean Khanate and point
towards the diverse cultures that co-existed in the Sultan’s realm. The Crimean case
presents us with a more nuanced view o f the Ottoman world at large. It demonstrates that
the Empire’s provincial and semi-autonomous regions can provide especially fascinat­
ing cases, since it was typically outside the imperial capital that different traditions met
and power relations (between local, regional, and imperial actors) were at their most
complex. The seven surviving histories from the Khanate indicate that Crimean Tatar
notions o f political authority were shaped by three traditions: the Tatars’ steppe past,
their Islamic legacy, and their exposure to a particular Ottoman interpretation o f Islamic
concepts. These sources also show that Crimean Tatar political thought maintained this
hybrid character in spite o f the Khanate’s increasing Ottomanisation from the sixteenth
through the eighteenth century.
The fact that Khans from the Giray dynasty ruled the Khanate throughout its history
is remarkable considering that their authority was severely limited by the Tatar clans and
the Ottoman Sultans, both o f which fuelled opposition and subversive activities. It owed
much to the Giray Khans’ possession o f a strong ideology. The historiography suggests
that the legitimacy o f the Khan’s rule rested on two principles, alongside a particular set
o f attributes defining good government. First, the works promote the idea that the Giray
dynasty was a well-established ruling house whose lineage could be traced back to Geng­
his Khan and the prophet Noah, thus providing the rulers with legitimacy in both steppe
and Islamic terms. Secondly, the texts justify the Khan’s elevated position in society by
drawing on the Ottomanised version o f the Islamic concept o f a ruler’s divine mission to
maintain the preordained world order. Finally, conveying what might be expected from
the person occupying the Crimean throne, the histories reflect the Islamic tradition and
ideas originating in the Khanate’s steppe past. Special emphasis is put on the notion of
justice, which is associated with adherence to both sharia law and Genghisid custom, as
well as on the virtues expected to be possessed by an ideal steppe warrior who fights for
the faith and conducts raids for his people’s prosperity.
Having thus established the Khans as legitimate rulers in their own right, the histori­
ography also accentuates the notion that the rulers o f Crimea were different in kind, but
equal in rank, to the Sultans in Istanbul. The Ottoman-Tatar hierarchy o f power is blurred,
the Sultans’ role in the Khanate’s politics is downplayed, and the non-Genghisid house of
Osman is denied any political claim to the Crimean successor state o f the Golden Horde.
According to the texts, the Ottoman Sultan and the Crimean Khan ruled over different
worlds - namely, the world o f Islam and the world o f the steppe, respectively - and the
Khan’s submission to the Sultan was religious in nature, not political. The ideological
vocabulary used to legitimise the Ottomans’ position in Crimea is entirely different from
that used with regard to the Giray Khans, invoking the overarching religious functions
o f the Sultan while leaving the Khan’s political leadership and prestige untouched. Al­
 N EG O TIA TIN G PO W ER IN TH E C R IM E A N K H A N A TE 347

though the works portray the Ottoman Sultan as the refuge o f all Muslims, the Caliph,
and the protector o f Islam’s holy sites and emphasise that he must act as a virtuous re­
ligious leader and mighty protector, they also stress the idea that he should keep out of
internal Crimean affairs.
The historiography also demonstrates that different political actors in Crimea used
this rich repertoire o f political ideas in a dynamic way, adapting the ideas to endorse their
own specific needs according to the political discourse o f their time. For example, in or­
der to defend the controversial centralisation policy and harsh rulership o f his benefactor
Khan Sahib Giray, and to lay the ideological basis for similarly ambitious policies of fu­
ture rulers, Remmal Hoca introduced the concept o f divine rulership and world order and
argued that a strict exercise o f power on the part o f the Khan was indispensable for the
maintenance o f justice, security, and prosperity. The outspoken prince Mehmed Giray,
on the other hand, used the concept o f world order as part o f a more complex discursive
strategy explaining the late seventeenth-century crisis as a departure from G od’s regime
and aiming to restore confidence in the Tatar ruling house and in the alliance between
the M uslims’ religious leader in Istanbul and their military forerunner in Crimea. Finally,
speaking for the leading Tatar clan o f the Çirin, Abdulgaffar Kirimî related the Islamic
idea o f a God-given order to the Khanate’s Genghisid tradition, advocating fealty to the
steppe model o f shared power between the Khan and the clans, headed by the Çirin bey,
if the Tatar state was to survive the severe threats that it was facing in the middle of the
eighteenth century.
 BETWEEN SAINT-DOMINGUE AND THE SUBLIME PORTE:
REVOLUTION, OTTOMAN REALPOLITIK,
AND THE INTER-HEMISPHERIC CONTINGENCIES
OF MODERN POLITICAL THOUGHT

A riel S a lzm a n n *

G lossing th e co n v en tio n a l h i t a b (devletlü inayetlü merhametlü veliyyii’n-nimetim

kasir al-lûtuf vel kiram efendi sultamm hazretleri) an archivist typed a short description
o f the contents o f a document that had been sent to the Sublime Porte from the Ottoman
Embassy in London in late 1801. The entry would become part o f the bound volumes
o f the catalog for the series o f the Hatt-i Hiimayun (sultanic rescripts and memoranda)
that are to be found on the reference shelves o f the Prime M inister’s Archive in Istanbul.
More than half a century later, another archivist updated the entry for the online catalog:

Fon Kodu: HAT

Dosya No:249 Gornlek No: 14127
Tarih: 25/Ç /1216 (Hicri) [31 December 1801]
Fransa Devleti ’nin Amerika 'da son Dominik [sic] adasmda Tosi Lôvernor [sic] ismindeki âsiyi
tedip için Brest Limam 'ndan donanma sevkedecegi. [The French Government will dispatch a
fleet from the Port of Brest to the island “son Dominik” in America to put down a revolt in the
name of “Tosi Lôvernor”].

The short, single-sided document [hereafter referred to as HAT 14127], reproduced in

facsimile on the following page, does in fact open with the words:

France made an official request to Great Britain for permission to dispatch a fleet carrying
10,000 soldiers to an island in the Americas known as “Sân Düminkü” [Saint-Domingue or
Hispaniola] in order to repress a rebellion in the name of “Tüsâ Lüvârtür” [Toussaint Louver-
ture].

A list o f loosely related news items follows the headline. These notices concern: de­
bates in the British Parliament about the French request to grant safe passage to its heav­
ily armed fleet through British waters; negotiations between the British government and
the French envoy underway in London; and that, at the conclusion o f these preliminar­
ies, a British plenipotentiary set out to join his counterpart in Amiens. Dated December

* Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario.

350 A R IE L SA L ZM A N N

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31, 1801, the communiqué was composed at the end o f active fighting m the War o f the
Second Coalition (1798-1801) and after the evacuation o f French troops from Egypt,
while Ottoman diplomats were themselves engaged in talks with the Consulate’s repre­
sentatives. It arrived in Istanbul on the eve o f the signing o f the Treaty o f Amiens (March
25, 1802), which would officially end the war and formally restore Egypt to Ottoman
sovereignty. Although the peace between Great Britain and Republican France (and her
allies) would last only 14 months, it would be the longest respite in the more than two-
decades-long conflicts comprising the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars (1792-1815).
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PO RTE 351

I came across this intriguing document many years ago. Although HAT 14127 has
figured in talks and presentations concerning Ottoman interest in the Am ericas,1 I have
been unable to put into writing the reasons why its contents have remained so elusive
and unsettling. Was my perplexity due to the fact that - notwithstanding President Re-
cep Tayyip Erdogan’s recent interest in tracing the Muslim history o f the Caribbean2 -
many researchers who reviewed this entry before and after me did so, apparently, without
remarking on the unusual appearance o f the name o f [François-Dominque] Toussaint
Louverture [Bréda] (1739-437-1803), a freedman, commander, and colonial governor,
who, along with an army o f former slaves, had compelled the French National Assembly
to emancipate the more than half million enslaved persons toiling on the plantations
that enriched the Caribbean’s wealthiest colony, the ‘Pearl o f the Antilles’?3 Or was my
perplexity due to the fact that this document provided unimpeachable testimony that, at
the turn o f the nineteenth-century, even as Ottoman soldiers and their allies sought to dis­
lodge French armies from the Adriatic and Egypt, the gaze o f Ottoman officials extended
far into the Atlantic?
Indeed, it is what the document leaves out, the larger spheres o f ideas and politi­
cal analyses that exist beyond the ink and paper o f HAT 14127, that tease the modem
historical imagination. What relationship, if any, existed between the French colony of
Saint-Domingue and the Eurasian and African imperial state that ruled from Istanbul?
How might knowledge o f the social conditions and mass enslavement o f Africans in

1 Over a decade of conversations concerning Caribbean-Ottoman relations require an expres­

sion of gratitude to my interlocutors: Maria del Carmen Baerga and Lanny Thompson of the
University of Puerto Rico, Rio Piedras; the organizers of the ‘Consortium on the Revolution­
ary Age’ held in 2009 in Savannah, Georgia; Carolle Charles of Baruch College and my col­
leagues at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario, and most recently, Elizabeth F. Thompson
of American University’s School for International Service in Washington, D.C. I am indebted
to the co-participants in the 2015 Halcyon Days Symposium on ‘Political Thought and Practice
in the Ottoman Empire’; to the staff, students, and faculty of the Institute for Mediterranean
Studies in Rethymno, Crete, and especially to Marinos Sariyannis, the editor of this volume.
2 President Recep Tayyip Erdogan famously claimed that Muslim explorers had reached the
Americas before Christopher Columbus. Associated Press, “Recep Tayyip Erdogan: Mus­
lims discovered America, says Turkish president”, The Guardian 16 November 2014
https://www.netflix.com/watch/80129819?trackld=155573560 (accessed November 9,
2018). Although the Turkish Republic does not have an embassy in Haiti, a Turkish non-gov­
ernmental organization subsidized the building of a new mosque there, named for “Boukman”.
Boukman was the name of the leader of the original slave uprising, http://diyanetvakfi.org.tr/
en-US/site/haberler/haiti-nin-ilk-minareli-camisi-ibadete-acildi-1820 (accessed November 9,
2018). On this subject see M. A. Gomez Black Crescent: The Experience and Legacy o f Afri­
can Muslims in the Americas (Cambridge 2012), 88-90.
3 Of the enormous literature on the Haitian Revolution, see C. L. R. James, The Black Jacobins:
Toussaint L ’Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution (New York 1989); M.-R. Trouillot, Si­
lencing the Past: Power and the Production o f History (Boston 1995); C. E. Fick, The Making
o f Haiti: The Saint Domingue Revolution from Below (Knoxville 1990); D. P. Geggus, Haitian
Revolutionary Studies (Bloomington 2002), and L. Dubois, Avengers o f the New World: The
Story o f the Haitian Revolution (Cambridge MA 2005).
352 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

European empires have informed Ottoman intellectuals’ reception o f the ideas o f the
French Revolution? Did the news o f a major revolt o f the enslaved workers in a region
that was central to Europe’s colonial economy o f sugar, coffee, and indigo influence the
Ottoman statesmen’s decision-making with respect to its renewed alliance with Paris or
their comprehension o f the global dimensions o f negotiations at Amiens?
Merely by the juxtaposition o f the words Saint-Domingue and the Sublime Porte, HAT
14127 challenges many o f the underlying assumptions concerning the protagonists and
stakes in the War o f the Second Coalition.4 Although European historians have begun
to approach the French Revolution from less provincial vantage points and adopt more
‘global’ frameworks o f analysis for their accounts o f the turn o f the nineteenth century
conflicts bracketed under the “Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars” which unfolded con­
currently on the Continent, in Africa, the Americas, and Asia, rarely, if ever, do the eastern
and western hemispheres form part o f a single integrated approach to understanding the
political strategy o f European and non-European actors.5 The approaches o f area studies
are, by definition, equally unbalanced in terms o f their geographical frameworks. That few
Middle Eastern historians have considered the relevance o f the Atlantic to the Mediter­
ranean or Napoleon Bonaparte’s Caribbean calculus with respect to the invasion o f and
withdrawal from Egypt;6 or, for that matter, that scholars o f the Caribbean do not routinely
reference the Ottoman Empire or South Asia as factors contributing to the success o f the
slave revolt that led to establishment o f the Republic o f Haiti in 1804,7 betray the absence
o f a truly multilateral approach to the ‘global’ among non-Western specialists as well.

4 Although the Ottoman Empire is mentioned in passing, Schroeder supplies no commentary

whatsoever on the Caribbean in his classic study of the changing world system before, during,
and after the Napoleonic Wars. P. W. Schroeder, Systems, Stability, and Statecraft: Essays on
the International History o f Modern Europe (London 2004). Similarly, idem, ‘The Collapse
of the Second Coalition’, The Journal o f Modern History, 59 (1987), 244-290, and A. B. Rod­
ger, The War o f the Second Coalition, 1798 to 1801: A Strategic Commentary (Oxford 1963).
By contrast, E. Ingram ‘A Preview of the Great Game in Asia - IV: British Agents in the Near
East in the War of the Second Coalition, 1798-1801’, Middle Eastern Studies, 10 (1974), 15-
35; idem, ‘The Geopolitics of the First British Expedition to Egypt - IV: Occupation and With­
drawal, 1801-3’, Middle Eastern Studies, 31 (1995), 317-346) emphasizes the global stakes in
the conflict and the preponderance of colonial concerns in the final Amiens treaty.
5 Examples of this trend include D. Armitage and S. Subrahmanyam (eds), The Age o f Revolu­
tions in Global Context, c. 1760-1840 (London 2009) and Alan Forrest and Matthias Middell
(eds), The Routledge Companion to the French Revolution in World History (London 2015).
Compare David A. Bell, ‘Questioning the Global Turn: The Case of the French Revolution’,
French Historical Studies, 37 (2014), 1-24.
6 Ingram, ‘The Geopolitics of the First British Expedition’; Manuel Covo, ‘Race, Slavery and
Colonies in the French Revolution’, in D. Andress (ed.), The Oxford Handbook o f the French
Revolution (Oxford 2015), Chap. 17; K. Çakul, ‘An Ottoman Global Moment: War of the Sec­
ond Coalition in the Levant’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Georgetown University, 2009; J.
Cole, Napoleon's Egypt: Invading the Middle East (London 2008), 20.
7 Chris Bongie, whose scholarship on Haiti includes a translation and critical edition of Baron de
Vastey’s Le système colonial dévoilé (Liverpool 2014), is currently examining the intellectual
links between Saint-Domingue and Southern India during the late eighteenth century.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PORTE 353

The unanticipated nature o f a document drafted by an Ottoman diplomat residing in

London concerning an anti-French revolt in the Caribbean that led to the formation o f the
second republic in the Americas (and the first modern state founded on the basis of the
universal emancipation o f its inhabitants) is in itself an indication o f the degree to which
the colonial and nationalist segregation o f research into discrete continental, hemispher­
ic, and oceanic silos bounds the historical imagination. And thus, by its very existence,
HAT 14127 raises a host o f formidable conceptual questions about the inter-hemispheric
patterns and contingencies that informed the intellectual context from which modem
political thought emerged.8 Given the extent o f recent theoretical reflection in the field,
from the practitioners o f subaltern studies, transnational history, and Begriffsgeschichte
to the advocates o f histoire croisée and the proponents o f a global Enlightenment, an
exploration o f the full range o f the relevant historiographical issues certainly exceeds the
brief of a single essay.9 Nevertheless, a shorter format may serve to explore some key
methodological issues that must be considered preliminary to conceptual reflection. That
is, before engaging in discussions concerning the theories and models o f the past, several
key questions m ust be answered concerning the means o f interpretation and the modes
o f establishing a historical context for the writing and reading o f this document. These
methodological concerns fall under two broad headings: the first relates to the problem
o f contextualization o f thought in political and social space (how to recover the larger
semantic ecosystem in which this document was drafted, in the absence o f a substantial
body o f contemporary, written artefacts that might corroborate or explain its writer’s
perspective, policy choices, and/or political convictions); the second concerns the role
'o f timeline and chronology - whether the standard periodization, namely the ‘War of
the Second Coalition’, adequately represents the underlying geographical and temporal
co-ordinates and allows for proper evaluation o f the significance o f the ideas expressed.
O f course, the methodological questions themselves turn on a judgement call about
classification: is this text worthy o f treatment as an artefact o f turn o f the nineteenth cen­
tury political thought? Yet such reservations may be less a function o f its form, style of
writing, or authorship than a reflexive, a priori distinction routinely made by historians
who sift through the contents o f an archive, setting aside texts deemed to be o f intrinsic
intellectual value, as opposed to those they relegate to the category o f generic cultural-

8 For a recent attempt to re-orient such studies, B. A. Hendrix and D. Baumgold (eds), Colonial
Exchanges: Political Theory and the Agency o f the Colonized (Manchester 2017). See also,
M. Middell (ed.), Cultural Transfers, Encounters and Connections in the Global 18th Century
(Leipzig 2014).
9 S. Conrad, ‘Enlightenment in Global History: A Historiographical Critique’, The American
Historical Review, 117 (2012) 999-1027; S. Conrad, What is Global History? (Princeton
2016); A. Dirlik, ‘Performing the World: Reality and Representation in the Making of World
Histories Y, Journal o f World History, 16 (2005) 391-410; A. Iriye, Global and Transnational
History: The Past, Present, and Future (London 2013); M. Werner and B. Zimmermann, ‘Be­
yond Comparison: Histoire Croisée and the Challenge of Reflexivity’, History and Theory, 45
(2006), 30-50. Compare Ch. Mukerji, ‘Cultural Genealogy: Method for a Cultural Sociology
of History or Historical Sociology of Culture’, Cultural Sociology, 1 (2007), 49-71.
354 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

political, administrative, or economic evidence. Such a classificatory grid informs the

methods o f investigation o f social movements, conceptions o f power, and responses to
economic conditions; it has shaped the historiographical division separating the study
o f popular culture or mentalités, that is, research devoted to reconstructing the thoughts
and motivations o f subaltern actors, often in the absence o f self-authored documentation
from intellectual history proper, defined by scholarly inquiry in terms o f the ideas and
works o f a relatively few well-positioned authors and their associates (whose literary
scientific, artistic, and philosophical effects survive in sufficient quantity or by reputa­
tion). Increasingly, however, as the research o f Ottoman historians working on concepts
o f justice and political history ‘from below’ indicates,10 a more sociologically integrated
approach to the history o f political thought necessarily blurs the line between popular and
elite perspectives, collective acts, and solitary literary production. Understanding chang­
ing patterns o f political thought and the legitimacy o f political authority requires a more
complex, dialogical approach to ideas and the multiple realms o f cognition concerning
rights and wrongs.
Multi-disciplinary perspectives may be useful in breaking down this dichotomy as it
affects the methodologies o f intellectual history. In addition to the anthropologists who
have objected to the distinction between ‘high’ and ‘low’ cultural production,11 philoso­
phers have come to embrace a more socially integrated approach to epistemology as
they recognize the plurality o f knowing subjects who have not been considered by tra­
ditionally defined philosophical inquiry.12 As the feminist philosopher Miranda Fricker
argues,13 traditional epistemology suffers from “dysfunctions” with respect to epistemic
practices that result in exclusions o f entire classes o f subjects. Such systematic exclusion
constitutes forms o f “epistemic injustice”. Despite the singularity o f their reflections and
experiences and their profound roles in shaping currents o f thought with respect to po­
litical, cultural, and social questions, entire groups who are marginalized on the basis of
ethnicity, gender, religion, social status, geographical provenance, or intersectional dif­
ference have long been ignored by philosophers. Such exclusion takes different forms. It

10 See especially A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), Political Initiatives from the Bottom Up in the Ottoman
Empire - Halcyon Days in Crete (VII9-11 January 2009) (Rethymno 2012), and L. T. Darling,
A History o f Social Justice and Political Power in the Middle East: The Circle o f Justice from
Mesopotamia to Globalization (London 2013). For a remarkable study of political thought and
insurrectionary action, B. Onaran, Détrôner le sultan. Deux conjurations à l ’époque des ré­
formes ottomanes: Kuleli (1859) et Meslek (1867) (Leuven 2013).
11 G. E. R. Lloyd, Demystifying Mentalities, (Cambridge 1990); Linda T. Darling, A History o f
Social Justice and Political Power in the Middle East: The Circle ofJustice from Mesopotamia
to Globalization (London 2012).
12 Special issue on ‘Epistemic Injustice’, Social Epistemology, 26 (2012); A. M. Isasi-Diaz and E.
Mendieta (eds), Decolonizing Epistemologies: Latina/o Theology and Philosophy (New York
2011); Boaventura de Sousa Santos, Epistemologies o f the South: Justice Against Epistemicide
(London 2015); M. Brady and M. Fricker (eds.), The Epistemic Life o f Groups: Essays in the
Epistemology o f Collectives (Oxford 2012). f
13 M. Fricker, Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics o f Knowing (Oxford 2007).
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PO RTE 355

is the product o f biases that effectively discount or devalue the testimony (oral or written)
of subjects as knowers and thinkers. Additional barriers occur when structural and social
constraints create hermeneutical systems, closed realms o f meaning and interpretation.
Such structural inequities not only favor one group’s ‘truth’ over another’s but also limit,
as José Medina asserts, the dominant group’s own capacity to communicate with, under­
stand, and learn from others.14
Historians face these philosophical problems in their ordinary methodological choices
with respect to the selection, classification, and interpretation o f their data. Michel Fou­
cault’s metaphor o f the archeological site is useful to the extent it provides a vivid meta­
phor for conceptualizing the problems involved in attempting to develop methods for a
more inclusive, transcultural history o f political thought. Historical knowing subjects are
submerged in an evidentiary record that is from the beginning subject to imperfect re­
cording and registration and, as concerns contemporary researchers, remains recessed in
time with the attendant problems o f preservation, cataloging, and recovery.15 In addition
to global structural inequities, enforced by modem, imperial hegemons, which have sub­
ordinated languages, places, and peoples to strict hierarchies o f power, both imperial and
local elites have also used their control over the archive to overwrite cognition while, not
infrequently, appropriating forms o f indigenous knowledge without attribution.16 In addi­
tion to the privilege o f the pen and maintenance o f the archive, layers o f secondary docu­
mentation bury actors and knowing agents under weighty sediments o f institutions, dis­
courses, and narratives. The empirical losses involved are enormous and overwhelmingly
irrecoverable: for example, the Ottoman secretary who committed some o f his thoughts
to paper but consigned others to silence or forwarded them via oral transmission; the lead­
ers of the 1791 slave uprising on Saint-Domingue who communicated across long dis­
tances through drumming; or, for that matter, the ideas o f Toussaint Louverture himself,
expressed in eloquent speeches in Creole or Fon to his soldiers and followers, have been
lost multiple times, in the absence o f transcription on the spot and by virtue o f the her­
meneutical nature o f traditional intellectual historiography.17 Without an initial challenge
to the methodology o f writing the ‘intellectual’ histories of political thought, historians
remain trapped in a particular form o f textual positivism, a textual positivism that from
the modem period onward favors the Western archive and the Western canon o f ideas.

14 J. Medina, The Epistemology o f Resistance: Gender and Racial Oppression, Epistemic Injus­
tice, and the Social Imagination (Oxford 2012).
15 For a concrete, empirical example of these methodological issues as they affect historiography,
see Sh. Amin’s Event, Metaphor, Memory: Chauri Chaura, 1922-1992 (Delhi 1995).
16 See B. S. Cohn, Colonialism and its Forms o f Knowledge (Princeton 1996) and D. Chak-
rabarty, Provincializing Europe: Postcolonial Thought and Historical Difference (Princeton
2000) .
17 D. Geggus, ‘Print Culture and the Haitian Revolution: The Written and the Spoken Word’, Pro­
ceedings o f the American Antiquarian Society, 116 (2006), 299-314; A. F. Saint-Aubin, ‘Tous­
saint Louverture’s Memoir: Representing Racial Difference’, The French Review, 85 (2012),
658-669; Ph. R. Girard, ‘Un-Silencing the Past: The Writings of Toussaint Louverture’, Slavery
& Abolition, 34 (2013), 663-672.
356 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

To instantiate this docum ent as an exam p le o f a set o f exclu ded know ers and actors
in volved in practices o f an inherently political and intellectual nature requires, perforce
adopting a m ethod ology that is not so lely dependent on textual evid en ce and allow s indi­
rect m ethods o f reconstruction and recovery. The m any unspoken or cod ed “transcripts”
that James C. Scott su ggests inform ed and preserved p olitical strategies he labels “w eap­
ons o f the w eak”, 18 m ay only be elucidated indirectly. Their content dem ands an under­
standing o f the larger so cio lo g ic a l and material co-ordinates o f pow er w hich enveloped
these otherw ise ‘silen t’ individuals. Primary sources and secondary literature concerning
the econom ics and environm ental history o f the m odern w orld m ust be tapped to yield
the m acro-co-ordinates that w ill enable scholars o f political thought to locate societies
and classes in terms o f local and long-d istance so c io lo g ic a l and material relations. A naly­
ses o f trade, war, and m igration furnish concrete and often quantitative indicators about
cultural differences and inequalities as w ell as the ex ten siv en ess and in tensiven ess o f net­
works o f exchange, the very cond itions that produced or suppressed authors, actors, and
conversations w ithin and across cultural boundaries. T h ese circuits o f g ood s and peoples
map the routes taken by material signs, oral com m un ication s, b eliefs, and techn ologies.
Such a m aterialist approach to the history o f ideas points to another desideratum: a redef­
inition o f what is m eant by m odernity in term s o f p olitical thought and practice. Rather
than a type o f internal dialogu e or lon ely contem plation, m uch less as the rew orking o f
or break from o f a finite set o f ideas, tenets, or con cepts, w hat Arjun Appadurai calls
“m odernity at large”, 19 m ight be better m easured on the b asis o f the volu m e and velocity
o f ideas, as distant cogn itive realm s co llid ed and responded to the cacoph on y o f v o ic es
o f the m illions o f individuals on the m o v e and the proliferation o f visu al and tactile signs
resulting from the m ass circulation o f material signifiers.20
Naturally, these broad co-ordinates for locating ideas in m acro-social contexts and
under changing material cond itions do not su ffice for understanding a particular text
or transcript. A narrower, m ore nuanced lens m ust be adapted to capture the sem antic
specificity o f place and to d istinguish b etw een sites on the basis o f their relative con n ec­
tivity w ithin regional or trans-hem ispheric currents o f exchan ge.21 Certain imperial m e­
tropolises, port-cities, and internal transit points - for exam p le a Caribbean co lo n y like
Saint-D om ingue w h o se majority population had, in the course o f their lifetim es, traveled
betw een the shores o f A frica, Europe, and the A m ericas or resided in cities that rivaled
in size those o f the n ew ly independent U nited States - resulted in a quotidian m eld in g o f
ideas and languages as w ell as an inescapable receptivity to inter-regional cultural trends.

18 J. C. Scott, Weapons o f the Weak: Everyday Forms o f Peasant Resistance (New Haven 1987).
19 A. Appadurai, Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions o f Globalization (Minneapolis 1996).
20 In terms of the Haitian revolution, David Geggus writes in ‘Print Culture and the Haitian Revo­
lution’, 308: “the voice of the black revolt is as irrecoverable as the talking drum messages that
accompanied the outbreak of the slave uprising”.
21 S. Aslanian in From the Indian Ocean to the Mediterranean: The Global Trade Networks o f
Armenian Merchants from New Julfa (Berkeley 2014) retraces the material and social connec­
tions articulated by a compact group of Armenian merchant families radiating across the globe
from a suburb of seventeenth-eighteenth century Isfahan.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PO R TE 357

Quantifiable sources on the com p osition, flo w s, and the provenance o f human and non­
human m igratory flow s into and through such Sites provide important in dices for intel­
lectual historians, prima facie evidence for the w riting o f histories o f k n ow led ge.22 To the
extent possib le, identification o f the sp ecificity o f lo ca les o f exch an ge w ithin th ese larger
urban or rural settings adds further nuance and detail: certainly the cane field s o f the
Caribbean, w h ich forcibly brought together p eop les o f different religions, cla sses, and
continents or a barber’s shop in D am ascus w hich facilitated both everyday banter and po­
litical reflection betw een w hat D ana Sajdi has labeled the “n ouveau literati” w a s as rich,
indeed perhaps richer, in term s o f p olitical ideas, than cross-cultural exchan ge and social
strategies as the Paris salons sponsored by w ealth y French w o m en for the p h ilo so p h es.23
Singular, identifiable authors and actors, to the extent that they m ay be situated within
organizations or social system s provide other indicators that are indispensable for under­
standing the form and content o f political know ledge. To the extent that biographical no­
tices are coupled w ith actual understanding o f the in dividu al’s location w ithin a society
and w ith respect to the larger institutional fram ework, that is, positionality w ith in fam ily
or dynasty, organizations, and social orders, they furnish a particular form o f expertise.
The intellectual capacity that M ichael P olanyi called “tacit k n o w led g e”24 o w e s to p osi­
tion in society, in com m un icative system s, productive or p olitical apparatuses. Location
itse lf furnished h ighly sp ecialized interpretative sk ills and pow ers o f extrapolation based
on direct, hands-on exp erience in terms o f sp ecialized social arrangements and organi­
zational form s. A ccordingly, the particular discernm ent o f certain individuals m ust be
granted w ithout need for textual evidence: they w ere able to extract m eaning from seem ­
ingly unfam iliar circum stances, texts, and sym b ols w ith a fluency that w ould escap e the
majority o f their contem poraries and m od em com prehension. Thus, no m atter h o w ab­
breviated, a seasoned O ttom an official like the p o ly g lo t ‘E n g lish ’ M ahm ud R a if Efendi
(1 7 6 0 -1 8 0 7 ), presum ably one o f the readers o f HAT 14127,25 w h o se service to o k him to

22 For a classic example of ‘reading’ material culture as political philosophy and imperial aspira­
tion, Ch. Mukerji, Territorial Ambitions and the Gardens o f Versailles (Cambridge 1997).
23 On re-reading intellectual history in Ottoman lands, see R. Schulze, ‘Das islamische achtzehnte
Jahrhundert: Versuch einer historiographischen Kritik’, Die Welt des Islams, 30 (1990), 140-
159, and D. Sajdi, The Barber o f Damascus: Nouveau Literacy in the Eighteenth-Century Otto­
man Levant (Stanford 2013). M. Sariyannis in ‘Ottoman Ideas on Monarchy before the Tanzi-
mat Reforms: Toward a Conceptual History of Ottoman Political Notions’, Turcica, 47 (2016),
49-51 notes the role of conversational exchanges across confessional boundaries.
24 M. Polanyi, The Tacit Dimension (Garden City 1966), 9-10; idem, The Study o f Man (Chica­
go 1959), 12. Such tacit knowledge should be distinguished from the ‘implicit’ compare S. B.
Schwartz (ed.), Implicit Understandings: Observing, Reporting and Reflecting on the Encoun­
ters Between Europeans and Other Peoples in the Early Modern Era (Cambridge 1994). The
breadth of tacit knowledge is a function of both organization and time: unlike contemporary
society where the pace at which technological change rapidly compounds the forms of technic­
al ‘illiteracy’ over a generation, but, given the common languages - such as computer codes -
vastly exceeds the national and linguistic, the areas of common reference and experience over
the centuries vary considerably.
25 K. Beydilli and L $ahin, Mahmud Râif Efendi ve Nizâm-i Cedîd’e Dâir Eseri (Ankara 2001 ).
358 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

Western Europe, the Adriatic, Egypt, and Istanbul, or a colonial governor like Louverture
w ho m anaged men and supplies w h ile keep in g abreast o f political events from W ashing­
ton to Paris and beyond w ou ld have been able to draw astute inferences from com m uni­
cations concerning military, econ om ic, or diplom atic affairs, no matter h ow abbreviated
the form o f these written or oral com m unications.
T hese material, social, and institutional co-ordinates help to relocate the individual
reader and writer, speaker and listener, actor and w itn ess in m eaningful sites and se ­
m antic contexts. N everth eless, m ethods o f evaluating the intellectual significance o f a
specific utterance, thought, or text are acutely dependent on situating it in tim e, particu­
larly w ith respect to the bracketing o f increm ents and their staging in particular spaces.
A lthough m ost contem porary historians m ight d ism iss histoire événementielle as either a
m oribund genre or an academ ic relic left for popular narratives, the tem porality o f narra­
tive conventions continues to sh adow m uch history-w riting in a variety o f w ays, includ­
ing through the default seq u en cin g o f tim e or the spatial subordination o f certain events
to others. W ithout a critical approach to the diachronic aspects o f relationships bearing on
m odem k now ledge and event, the sign ifican ce and relevance o f w ords, texts, and acts are
either con sign ed to lim inality or subordinated to the pre-established - that is, European
- tim eline. This tendency to defer to accepted periodization also has con sequ en ces for
valorizing and attributing p olitical thought, estab lish in g or severing relationships across
hem ispheres, and recognition o f historical agency. To the extent that such periodization
o w es to an unackn ow led ged hindsight and id eo lo g ies, it superim poses a specific teleo l­
ogy, occlu din g the m any p oorly explored con n ection s and con tingencies that influenced
both on-the-ground strategies and em erging political philosoph ies.
The textbook rendering o f the Ottom an eighteenth century provides a notable e x ­
am ple o f h ow such Euro-centered tim elin es have tended to delim it the range o f narra­
tives available to historians, and how, in turn, distort h o w one evaluates local intellectual
trends.26 It is true that O ttom an observers also portrayed this century as one o f adm inis­
trative decline, although recurrent strains o f K haldunism in Ottom an literature were not
unique to the eighteenth century. H ow ever, to the extent that the m odern period has been
and continues to be fram ed by the French R evolu tion (rather than the Am erican or H ai­
tian revolutions), the historical reflex has been to read the Ottoman old regim e as a devia­
tion from the norm ative track toward political chan ge rather than understanding France’s
overthrow o f its Bourbon m onarchy as a peculiar variant o f the Ottom an political trajec­
tory. The Nizam-i Cedid (1 7 9 2 -1 8 0 7 ),27 a series o f military, administrative, fiscal, intel­

26 For examples of the ‘decline paradigm’, see B. Lewis, The Emergence o f Modern Turkey (Ox­
ford 2001); N. Berkes, The Development o f Secularism in Turkey (London 1999). See also O.
Bouquet, ‘Is it Time to Stop Speaking about Ottoman Modernization?’ in M. Aymes, B. Gour-
isse and E. Massicard (eds.) Order and Compromise: Government Practices in Turkeyfrom the
Late Ottoman Empire to the Early 21st Century (Leiden 2015), 45-67.
27 See S. J. Shaw, Between Old and New: The Ottoman Empire under Sultan Selim III, 1789-1807
(Cambridge 1971); A. Yildiz, Crisis and Rebellion in the Ottoman Empire: The Downfall o f a
Sultan in the Age ofRevolutions (London 2017), and A. Yaycioglu, Partners o f the Empire: The
Crisis o f the Ottoman Order in the Age o f Revolutions (Stanford 2016).
 B E T W E E N SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B LIM E PORTE 359

lectual, and p olitical programs initiated by the regim e o f Sultan Selim III (r. 1 7 8 9 -1807)
b ecom es a ‘belated ’ or ‘d efen siv e’ response to a unique problem: its entry into European
relationships over the eighteenth century, an ex o tic detour from the R evolutionary and
N ap oleon ic Wars. W hether through the exploration o f the roots o f the ‘Eastern Q u estion ’
or the theoretical em phasis on orientalism , European-centered narratives o f later Otto­
man history favor research into relations w ith European states rather than w ith M uslim
pow ers, from M orocco to M ysore, or w ith respect to id eo lo g ies o f republicanism or
nationalism rather than w ith respect to Sufism or W ahhabism. To the extent that Otto­
man histories o f the period o f the War o f the S econ d C oalition fail to reco g n ize the de­
gree to w hich global eco n o m ic and political interests gravitated to a large d egree around
the production o f com m odities in the Caribbean and control over sea routes linking the
M editerranean to the Indian O cean m akes M iddle Eastern scholars no less com p licit in
the “silen cin g the past”, as M ich el-R olp h Trouillot entitled h is eloquent indictm ent o f a
historiography that has lon g relegated the political actors on S aint-D om in gue to bit play­
ers in the French R evolu tion.28
In this regard, HAT 14127 serves as a jarring corrective to m eth od ologies o f e x ­
ploring the recorded and largely unrecorded elem en ts o f political thought and global
perspectives at the turn o f the nineteenth century: Foregrounding Toussaint Louverture
as an actor w h o se p o licies and actions reverberated across hem ispheres at this juncture
m ust transform the w ay historians plot the so-called War o f the S econd C oalition. M ore
than a m ere curiosity, a rare, early exam p le o f O ttom an A m ericana, the docu m ent affords
an opportunity to reconsider the historian’s m ethods o f reading political thought o f the
past w hile considering the m yriad suppressed or m arginalized ep istem ic com p onents and
contexts that shaped an em erging m odernity at large, one o f liberal prom ises and imperial
dom ination. T he fo llo w in g three sections seek to apply these m eth od ological adaptations
in an effort to recover the sem antically com p lex, but on ly indirectly a ccessib le, intellec­
tual spheres o f global actors w h o w rote and read this text before evaluating its relevance
to understanding the m ulti-regional dynam ics o f conflict, alliance, and diplom acy o f the
R evolutionary A ge. T he con clu sion su ggests h o w this re-reading points to the need for a
dynam ic m odel for w riting about the transformation o f political thought in ligh t o f global
con tingencies and local social-p olitical realities. It also em p hasizes the need to factor not
only the ‘p rogressive’ m essa g e o f the French R evolu tion into the intellectual history o f
the period, but also the m ore pervasive and enduring intellectual legacy o f Bonapartism
throughout the world.

28 M.-R. Trouillot, Silencing the Past: Power and the Production o f History (Boston 1995). Saint-
Domingue does not even merit mention in P. W. Schroeder’s account of the War of the Second
Coalition (see Systems, Stability, and Statecraft: Essays on the International History o f Modern
Europe [London 2004]). By way of contrast, S. Englund, in Napoleon: A Political Life (Cam­
bridge MA 2003), 178, recognizes an important shift in Bonaparte’s strategy after 1801 toward
the Caribbean.
360 A R IEL SA LZM A N N

Writing “Toussaint Louverture ” in Ottoman Turkish

We can be fairly sure that it w as on e o f the tw o Phanariot translator-secretaries assigned
to the E m pire’s London Em bassy w h o authored HAT 1 4127.29 Drawn from the cadres
o f the p olyglot Christian elites w h o had lon g served the Ottom an court and bureaucracy
as linguists, diplom ats, advisors, and administrators,30 these translators w orked clo sely
w ith the em b assy’s First Secretary, or perhaps, in this instance, the A m bassador him self.
Together they determ ined the im portance and relevance o f information relayed to Is­
tanbul. The text is spare; its w ording is succinct. If the author’s primary concern w as to
digest the m ost up-to-date inform ation concerning the state o f Franco-British diplomacy,
the w riter’s d ecision to open the com m uniqué by referring to a rebel in a distant Atlantic
colony w ould seem to be an unnecessary detail at best. Even so, assum ing that the trans­
lator-secretary relied on the sensational accounts o f the situation on Saint-D om ingue
that w ere w id ely reported in European new spapers, a certain licen se is noted: rather than
referring to Louverture by his first nam e alone, w ith the kind o f disrespect toward a black
subordinate com m on to slave-h old ers, the writer not on ly w rote out his first name and
surname but also added p honetic markers above the letters [ to make sure that
readers at the court could pronounce it correctly.
H istorians o f the A tlantic w orld m ight find the terseness o f the Ottoman com m uniqué
concerning Saint-D om in gue unusual for other reasons. W hen com pared w ith the volu ­
m inous docum entation to be found in the archives o f Europe and the Caribbean itself
concerning colonial adm inistration, the trafficking in human b eings from A frica, and the
shiploads o f com m odities directed toward European ports and beyond, the absence o f
any exp licit m ention o f slavery w ithin the O ttom an d ocum ent is in itse lf striking. Its writ­
er did not com m ent on the fact that the slave revolt played out against the background o f
the ideas and politics o f the French R evolution. R ightly so: each social context produced
anew relevance and a sem antic grid. In the Caribbean, i f docum ents such as the ‘Rights
o f M an ’ inspired the w hite co lo n s to draft their ow n constitutions and m oved the gens
de couleur libres (free p eop le o f m ixed heritage) to dem and equal rights in Paris, it took
the uprisings by the en slaved in French co lo n ies - in M artinique (1 7 8 9 ), Saint D om ingue
(1 7 9 1 ) and G uadeloupe (1 7 9 3 ) - to force the N ational A ssem b ly to m ake universal rights
a reality in certain French c o lo n ie s.31
In his classic account o f the Haitian R evolu tion published in 1938, the Trinidadian
scholar C. L. R. Jam es v ie w e d the ep ic struggle o f the enslaved for their freedom as an
exam ple o f the fulfillm ent o f the prom ise o f the Enlightenm ent, albeit interpreted by
n ew ly liberated form er-slaves in Saint-D om in gue “in their ow n im age” .32 W hen it com es
to w hat these authors thought about the R evolu tion, D avid G eggus underlines that the

29 M. Talbot, British-Ottoman Relations, 1661-1807: Commerce and Diplomatic Practice in

Eighteenth-Century Istanbul (Woodbridge 2017), 94.
30 On the Phanariot cadres, see C. M. Philliou, Biography o f an Empire: Governing Ottomans in
an Age o f Revolution (Berkeley 2011).
31 For the unfolding of events, see Fick, The Making o f Haiti.
32 James, The Black Jacobins, 81.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PO R TE 361

majority understood the term ‘freed om ’ in its m ost elem ental m eaning: the end o f bond­
age and not as the cluster o f rights associated w ith citizen sh ip.33 In contrast to m any o f
the foot soldiers o f the black revolt, Toussaint Louverture’s v o ic e has been recorded in
collections o f docum ents; y et these m aterials and his p o licies also reflect an individualist
interpretation o f R evolutionary principles. A n opponent o f the republicanism espoused
by B enoît Joseph André R igaud (1 7 6 1 -1 8 1 1 ) during the civ il w ar o f 1800, his 1801 con ­
stitution for the island o f H ispaniola esp ou sed a fierce d efen se o f equality w ithout re­
gard to color even as he rejected tolerance o f faiths other than C atholicism , including
the indigenous A fro-C aribbean religion o f Voudon.34 Wary o f the Directory governm ent
(1 7 9 5 -1 7 9 9 ), he w elco m ed its overthrow and Bonaparte’s assum ption o f pow er.35
C onditions for the majority in the French Caribbean w ere o b viou sly very different
than the urbane m ilieu in W est A sia in w hich O ttom an intellectuals and policy-m akers
found them selves. N evertheless, Jam es’s interpretation o f h o w Afro-C aribbean Jacobins
responded to the com bination o f ideas and p o licies that crossed the seas m ight also be
instructive for students o f Ottoman intellectual history. M uch o f the oral and uncensored
com m unications betw een key figures and decision-m akers has been lost to historians. A s
m ore sophisticated and com prehensive an alyses o f Ottom an political texts su ggest, w e
are only beginning to fully understand and qualify the m ultiplicity o f v ie w s o f M uslim s
and n on-M uslim s on questions o f rights, republicanism , and constitutions, or consider­
ing the m any situations in w h ich unrecorded d iscu ssion s b etw een, say, M uslim officials,
foreign-bom advisers and G reek-speaking in tellectuals m ay have shaped opinion before
and after the period o f adm inistrative, educational, and m ilitary reform s associated with
the Nizam-i Cedid and the Tanzimat (1 8 3 9 -1 8 7 8 ).36 A dded to this is the fact that local
contexts often furnished liv e ly arenas o f social and cultural exchange, such as coffee
shops, the graves o f noted religious figures, and taverns m uch o f w hich content has been
lost to posterity.37 A ll in all, scholars m ust assum e that O ttom an elites and ordinary Ot­
tom an subjects in the E m pire’s large cities w ere lik ely m ore conversant w ith ideas cir­
culating beyond im perial borders than is revealed in the carefully curated m em oirs and
com m entary left by O ttom an officialdom .
Framed by w ider intellectual horizons, the L ondon secretary’s careful transcription
o f Louverture’s nam e su ggests a range o f p o ssib le interpretations. Particularly after 1798

33 Geggus, ‘Print Culture and the Haitian Revolution’, 299; C. E. Fick, ‘The Haitian Revolution
and the Limits of Freedom: Defining Citizenship in the Revolutionary Era’, Social History, 32
(2007), 394-414.
34 ‘Constitution of 1801 of the French Colony of Saint-Domingue’, https://thelouvertureproject.
org/index.php?title=Haitian_Constitution_of_1801_(English). (accessed November 9, 2018).
35 C. Fick, ‘Revolutionary Saint Domingue and the Emerging Atlantic Paradigm of Sovereign­
ty’ in E. M. Dillon and M. Drexler (eds), The Haitian Revolution and the Early United States
(Philadelphia 2016), 23-41.
36 See M. Sariyannis, A History o f Ottoman Political Thought up to the Early Nineteenth Century
(Leiden 2018).
37 C. Kirli, ‘Kahvehaneler: Ondokuzuncu Yiizyil Osmanh imparatorlugu’nda Kamuoyu’, in A.
Yaçar (ed.), Osmanh Kahvehaneleri: Mekân Sosyallik ve îktidar (Istanbul 2009), 95-118.
362 A R IEL SA LZM A N N

and the French occupation o f Egypt (and Bonaparte’s slaughter o f Ottoman soldiers in
Jaffa in 1799), it is tem pting to read into the translator’s attention to the nam e o f a rebel
in the French Caribbean a type o f rebuke to the R evolu tion ’s call for “liberty, equal­
ity, and fraternity” . N everth eless, even i f Ottoman officials considered this challenge to
French rule a w ell-d eserved punishm ent for the Jacobin “bandits” w h o had overthrown
the Bourbon m onarchy and continued to so w discontent across the Adriatic and Balkans
by dissem inating the w ritings o f radicals like Voltaire, their ow n experience w ith pro­
vincial upstarts, the ayan and derebey, w ould have precluded a blanket endorsem ent for
Louverture’s actions against a state w hich they n onetheless continued to recogn ize as the
legitim ate political authority.38
B efore returning to the question o f what ideas Ottoman writers m ay have invested
in or associated w ith the nam e Toussaint Couverture, it is necessary to ascertain to the
extent p ossib le what the drafters o f the com m uniqué m ight have know n about the Carib­
bean itself. B y the late eighteenth century, the expanding number o f form al and informal
channels o f inform ation cou ld on ly have enhanced O ttom an k n ow led ge o f the main g e o ­
political trends around the g lo b e and their understanding o f the p olitics and com m erce o f
European colonialism . T hese channels included top-dow n efforts to secure in telligen ce
about their neighbors by Sultan A bdulham id I (r. 1 7 7 3 -1 7 8 9 ), w h o ordered the transla­
tion o f the foreign press for the edification o f the court and central bureaucracy.39 A s
for oral channels, they w ere legions: for the Sublim e Porte, the tw o d elegations sent by
Sultan M uham m ad (1 7 5 7 -1 7 9 0 ) o f M orocco, w hich included the dispatch o f substantial
material support in the form o f ships, armaments, and treasure for the Ottoman navy
in its conflict w ith Tsarist R ussia, m ust also have served as a conduit o f reliable infor­
m ation concerning d evelopm en ts along the A frican, European, and A m erican shores o f
the A tlantic.40 It should be rem em bered that M orocco, the North A frican deys, and the
O ttom an vassal, the R epublic o f Ragusa, w ere am ong the first states to recogn ize the
independence o f the Thirteen C o lo n ies from British rule and to establish diplom atic rela­
tions w ith W ashington. W ith the con clu sion o f the O ttom an-Spanish Treaty o f P eace and
Trade (and N eutrality) in 1782, sea captains and sailors hailing from the farthest com ers
o f the Iberian Empire in the A tlantic and Pacific arrived in Istanbul as w ell. A s one o f
the leading producers o f global com m odities such as sugar and co ffee , the conflict w ithin
Saint-D om ingue and its ripple effect on supply and prices o f exports cou ld not h a v eg o n e
unnoticed by O ttom an m erchants and consum ers from Salonika to Istanbul and Izmir.41
W ith the opening o f the first permanent m ission s in such European capitals as Vienna,
Paris, and London in the 17 9 0 s, Ottoman officials w ere able to gather intelligence about

38 Republicanism among other forms of government was discussed in Ibrahim Miiteferrika’s

Usûlü’l-hikemfi nizam ’iil-iimem (1732).
39 V. H. Aksan, ‘Ottoman sources of information on Europe in the Eighteenth Century’, ArchOtt,
11 (1988), 11-12.
40 T. Zorlu, Innovation and Empire in Turkey: Sultan Selim III and the Modernization o f the Otto­
man Navy (London 2008), 156.
41 E. Eldem, French Trade in Istanbul in the Eighteenth Century (Leiden 1999), 76. Although Ca­
ribbean sugar ‘captured’ the Ottoman market, not so Caribbean coffee.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PO RTE 363

Europe and the European colonies in situ, evaluating information on the basis o f the inter­
ests and needs o f the Empire even as individual diplom ats explored scientific and political
subjects to satisfy their ow n intellectual curiosity. A lthough it w as im possible for Otto­
man observers to ignore the ideological im pact o f the French R evolution, other aspects o f
the pre- and post-R evolutionary situation attracted their attention. In an Ottom an m em o­
randa devoted to explaining the causes and im pact o f the French R evolution, Ebubekir
Ratib Efendi (1 7 5 0 -1 7 9 9 ), a diplom at based in Vienna, paid particular attention to e c o ­
nom ic matters.42 H e described the role o f fiscal crises and over taxation that contributed
to the unpopularity and ultim ately the downfall o f the Bourbon dynasty. H e also noted
the fact that the protracted political and social upheaval w ithin the country continued to
w eaken the French econom y. The unrest precipitated the flight o f merchants and capital
to the benefit o f France’s enem ies. A lthough sim ilarly detailed accounts concerning the
French econom y in Ottoman Turkish have not yet been found for the period o f this study,
one m ust assum e that as disruptions to inter-state trade caused by continental con flicts and
the British blockade com pounded the revenue losses to the O ttom an state as w e ll, official
know ledge in the global econom ic repercussions o f these wars cou ld only have b ecom e
m ore nuanced and fine-grained. A s for the Caribbean, a major source o f French imports
and re-exports, particularly from S ain t-D om in gue’s 8,000 plantations, cou ld not have
gone unnoticed. N or cou ld staff in the Ottoman em bassies in Paris and L ondon, ignore
the discontent after 1794 in French ports, such as N antes, Bordeaux, Le H avre, and La
R ochelle that once profited from the trade in human beings or the fear am ong sla v e traders
and Caribbean merchants in Liverpool after the Jamaican slave insurrection o f 1795 43
In fact, appreciation o f the role o f the eco n o m y and revenue streams for political
stability at hom e and particularly as a necessary ingredient to ensure the su cc ess o f the re­
form s undertaken by Sultan Selim III m ight also explain the appointm ent o f a generation
o f Ottoman diplom ats originating from m erchant fam ilies, including the seco n d Otto­
man A m bassador to Great Britain, Ism ail Ferruh Efendi (c. 1 7 4 7 -1 8 4 0 ), w h o se extended
tenure in London seem s to have overlapped w ith the drafting o f this com m un iq ué.44 For
such individuals, in telligen ce gathering w as rarely lim ited to the paper trail, handbooks
for princes, or intrigues o f the court. T hey understood the valu e o f the tips and notices
com ing from a variety o f other sources gleaned from the shoptalk o f local brokers, long­
distance m erchants, sailors, and g a lle y slaves. In Ottoman lands, inform ation about the
m assive slave trade from W est A frica toward the Greater Caribbean w as lik ely carried
on via a num ber o f conduits, including European merchants v isitin g Balkan and Syrian
ports, the French occup yin g forces in Egypt, A frican pilgrim s to the Hijaz, or A m erican
captives in A lgiers or Tripoli.45 The com bination o f official com m un ication s and written

42 F. Yeçil, ‘Looking at the French Revolution through Ottoman Eyes: Ebubekir Ratib Efendi’s
Observations’, BSOAS, 70 (2007), 283-304 (esp. 290).
43 M. Covo, ‘Race, Slavery and Colonies in the French Revolution’, in D. Andress (ed.), The Ox­
ford Handbook o f the French Revolution (Oxford 2015), Chap. 17.
44 Talbot, British-Ottoman Relations, 59.
45 Recalling a conversation with Ahmad al-Jazzar Pasha (1722-1804) in Syria, Horace Sébastiani
364 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

sources com plem ented the w orld ly inform ation that transited the seas toward Istanbul
itse lf via the quotidian m ovem en t o f individuals - diplom ats, m erchants, sailors, and
prisoners o f war - w h o com m unicated com binations o f n ew s and rumor on the docks, in
shops, w arehouses, and co ffee-h o u ses.
Though not abundant, textual ev id en ce d oes support the notion that Ottoman elites
generally, especially the then Secretary o f State, M ahm ud R a if E fendi, w ere very aware
o f the strategic im portance o f the colonial Caribbean for the m ost pow erful European
states. B egin nin g w ith an expanded version o f Kâtip Ç ele b i’s Cihannüma by Ibrahim
M iiteferrika in 1732, w h ich contained a description o f the A m ericas, geographical in­
terest in European im perial exp an sion m ust have on ly increased. A s the First Secretary
to the first Ottoman am bassador to London, Y u su f A g a Efendi (1 7 4 4 -1 8 2 4 ) (an official
w h ose father, Siileym an Penah E fendi, had drafted a treatise referencing Spanish colon i­
zation in the A m ericas),46 R a if Efendi pursued the study o f language, com parative g o v ­
ernm ent, and w orld geography. A fter com p osin g his Tableau des Nouveaux Règlements
de L ’Empire Ottoman (Constantinople: Im prim erie la G énie, 1798), w hich sought to dis­
pel the ignorance he found am ong his W estern counterparts concerning the “real state o f
the O ttom an Em pire”,47 he drafted an 8 0-p age treatise in French on the w orld ’s political
and econ om ic geography. T h e Istanbul publication o f R a if E fen d i’s treatise in 1804 fo l­
low ed the translation and redrawing o f the m aps to be found in W illiam Faden’s very
popular Atlas Minimus Universalis (1 7 9 8 ) under the title Cedid atlas terciimesi in 1 8 0 3 ,48
Translated by the O ttom an Chargé d ’A ffaires in Vienna, the Phanariot Yakovaki
Efendi (Iakovos A rgyropou los) (1 7 7 6 -1 8 5 0 )49 under the title Ucaletii ’l-cografiyye, R a if
E fen d i’s treatise featured several sections on the A tlantic world. The section on the North

recounted the fact that the pasha told him the story of a “black slave [...] [who] after a long
journey, in which he had suffered the greatest privations, arrived at a little field of sugar canes
[...]”, suggesting that the African slave trade to the Americas was widely known (‘Report made
to the French Consul by Colonel Sébastiani, extracted from the Moniteur of the 30th of Jan.
1803’. The Official Correspondence between Great Britain and France on the subject o f the
Late Negotiation; with His Majesty’s declaration to which is prefixed, the preliminary and de­
finitive treaties o f Peace; with an appendix containing Colonel Sébastiani’s Report to the First
Consul, &c.&c. Appendix No. 1 (London 1803), viii-ix.
46 V. H. Aksan, Ottoman Wars 1700-1870. An Empire Besieged (London 2007), 189-191.
47 Mahmoud Rayf Efendi, Tableau des Nouveau Reglemens de L ’Empire Ottoman (Constantin­
ople 1798), 4; M. A. Yalçmkaya, ‘Mahmud Raif Efendi as the Chief Secretary ofYusuf Agah
Efendi, The First Permanent Ottoman-Turkish Ambassador to London (1793-1797)’, Osmanli
Tarihi Araçtirma Merkezi, 5 (1994), 422-434. See Beydilli and Çahin, MahmudRâif Efendi, 42.
48 William Faden, Atlas Minimus Universalis or a Geographical Abridgement Ancient and Mod­
ern o f the Several Parts o f the Earth in Fifty Five Maps composed principally for the Use o f
Schools (London 1798). Fifty copies of the atlas were printed; the maps were re-engraved
under the direction of Müderris Abdurrahman Efendi. For a digital copy of the Ucaletii 7-
cografiyye and Cedid atlas terciimesi https://www.loc.gov/item/2004626120/ (access De­
cember 10, 2018).
49 J. Strauss, ‘The Millets and the Ottoman Language: The Contribution of Ottoman Greeks to
Ottoman Letters (19th - 20th Centuries)’, Die Welt des Islams, 35 (1995), 189-249.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PO RTE 365

Am erican continent, w h ich includes m ention o f British Canada and a description o f the
governm ent o f the breakaway ex-settler colony, the United States (rendered as the “ Eng­
lish R epublic” in the Ottom an translation o f the Faber map o f North A m erica), has been
exam ined.50 H ow ever, another lengthy section entitled “C oncerning the islands that sur­
round [continental North] A m erica” is entirely devoted to the Caribbean. The text em ­
phasizes the econ om ic contributions and com p lex imperial geography o f the region .51
It furnishes statistics concerning the approximate land m ass o f each island, including
those com p osin g the Greater A n tilles, as w ell as an estim ate o f the distance o f important
islands from the Spanish-controlled G u lf o f M exico. In addition to identification o f each
island’s colonial status, R a if Efendi em phasized the fact that m any o f them p o ssessed a
peculiarly favorable clim ate (âb ve hava lâtif),52 presum ably for the cultivation o f tropi­
cal crops. H e underscored the m assive trade in com m odity exports (azm ticaret) these is­
lands provided Europe, undoubtedly referring to w ell-k n ow n transfers o f such O ld World
com m ercial crops as sugar, indigo and co ffee to the A m ericas.53
This geographical inform ation tells us little about h ow the Ottom an elite regarded
the legitim acy o f Europe’s colonial regim es in the Caribbean or w hether such informa­
tion m ay have influenced Ottoman opinions about the p olitics and id eo lo g ies associated
w ith the French R evolution. I f it is unreasonable to expect that Ottom an o fficia ls to have
betrayed their actual op inions about the relative m erits o f foreign governm ental forms,
m uch less individual rights, in such texts, it is also unsurprising that m ost Ottom an bu­
reaucrats shared the con viction s o f their Prussian and Habsburg counterparts w hen it
cam e to dynastic rule and established state religion. N everth eless, they had different
expectations o f inter-state relations. Like the French, as evid en ced by R obespierre’s veto
o f a proposal to establish a Jacobin Club in Istanbul brought forward by a zea lo u s revo­
lutionary m erchant,54 they w ere pragm atists. The Sublim e Porte ch o se not to sacrifice a
longstanding geop olitical alliance on the altar o f id eological purity. W hile d enouncing
Jacobinism and dem ocracy as political system s, unlike Christian Europe, O ttom an states­
m en did not consider such id eological departures (or even regicide) to be a sufficient
casus belli. N o t on ly did they resist entreaties by other m onarchies to jo in the First C o­
alition (1 7 9 2 -1 9 9 7 ), but the Empire also fed the R ev o lu tio n ’s hungry cities and strove
to prom ote peace am ong the b elligerents.55 A fter the French exp u lsion from the Ionian
islands, neither the Sultan, nor, for that matter, his S econd C oalition partner, Tsar Paul I

50 J. Strauss, ‘Nineteenth Century Ottoman Americana’, in M. Hadjianastasis (ed.) Frontiers of

the Ottoman Imagination: Studies in Honor o f Rhoads Murphey (Leiden 2015), 259-281.
51 Mahmud Raif Efendi, Ucaletii ’l-cografiyye, 11-74.
52 Ibid., 72.
53 Morali Süleyman Penah Efendi’s 1769 history of the uprisings in the Morea (Mora ihtilâli tari-
hçesi) ends with suggestions that Ottoman officials emulate European colonial policies in the
Americas. F. Ermiç, A History o f Ottoman Economic Thought. Developments Before the Nine­
teenth Century (London 2014), 141-142.
54 P. Firges, French Revolutionaries in the Ottoman Empire: Diplomacy, Political Culture and the
Limiting o f Universal Revolution, 1792-1798 (Oxford 2017), 114-115.
55 Ibid., 249-250.
366 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

(r. 1 796-1801), rejected republicanism out o f hand: the constitution for the Septinsular
R epublic by w hich independence w as guaranteed by a R usso-O ttom an condom inium
w as printed in Istanbul on 21 March 1800.56
H ow ever, i f the con cept o f ‘freed om ’ - dem ocratic rule, freedom o f speech and as­
sem bly, and equality before the law - becam e, in the w ords o f one intellectual historian,
acutely “politicized ” for many, ordinary Ottoman subjects at the turn o f the nineteenth
century,57 it should be attributed to exp erience as m uch as id eology. There cou ld be few
m ore glaring refutations o f Enlightenm ent ideals than French rule in Egypt itself. Every
step o f the R ep u b lic’s cam paign in the southern M editerranean from 1798 onward was
justified by French officials and generals by cyn ically in voking revolutionary virtues.58
Thus, the M alta cam paign w as characterized as an effort to carry the 1794 em ancipation
law s to the last Crusader citadel by shutting dow n the Order o f the K nights o f St. John’s
industry o f kidnapping, en slavem ent, and ransom. T he redirection o f the French armada
toward Egypt b ecam e a humanitarian m ission to repatriate n ew ly freed M uslim captives.
A fter m aking land at A lexandria and m arching on Cairo, Bonaparte presented h im se lf as
an em issary o f the Sultan, w h o se intervention aim ed on ly at the rem oval o f an oppres­
siv e, rebel neo-M am luk regim e and the restoration o f Istanbul’s rule. Even N iq ula bin
Y usu f al-Turk (1 7 6 3 -1 8 2 8 ), an Ottom an Christian from Syria w h o jo in ed Bonaparte’s
cam paign, could not fail to record the reaction o f the captive Cairene audience w h o
w itn essed the R epublican arm y’s perform ance o f a revolutionary fête. Instead o f a “tree
o f liberty”, the Egyptian spectators v ie w e d the erection o f a colum n adorned w ith the
tricolor and portraits o f the execu ted B ourbon m onarchs and defeated n eo-M am luk lords
to be a m ore apt representation o f their ow n torment, or in his w ords, a “pike upon w hich
they and their occup ied country had been im paled” .59
T his first-hand exp erien ce o f transparently im perial practices g lo sse d by republi­
can ideals to one sid e, O ttom an elite criticism s o f the R evolutionary rhetoric o f rights,
freedom , and equality th e m se lv e s m erit further consideration. B e y o n d the question o f
w hether they as a group or in dividu ally ex p lic itly rejected such principles in their to­
tality, it is also p o ssib le to understand w h y they m igh t tend to b e m ore skeptical as to
w hether a declaration o f the “R ights o f M an” alon e m ight actually deliver a universal
franchise. Ottom an p o litica l k n o w led g e w a s inform ed by social hierarchies that w ere
com pounded by both inherited p riv ileg e and w ealth as w ell as d ifferen ces b ased on
ethnicity, religion, life -sty le , and servile/free status. U n lik e E urope’s m id d le cla sses,
w h o en joyed the products o f an en slaved w ork force w ithout w itn essin g the quotidian
abasem ent o f hum an b ein gs cond em ned to life -lo n g servitude, the inhabitants o f O tto­

56 See S. Gekas, Xenocracy: State, Class, and Colonialism in the Ionian Islands, 1815-1864 (Ox­
ford 2016).
57 W. Abu-‘Uksa, Freedom in the Arab World. Concepts and Ideologies in Arabic Thought in the
Nineteenth Century (New York 2016), Chap. 1.
58 Abd al-Rahman al-Jabarti, Napoleon in Egypt, trans. Sh. Moreh (Princeton 2005), 24-25, 50-51.
59 N. El-Turk, Histoire de l ’expedition des Français en Egypte (Paris 1839), 52. Compare Mona
Ozouf, Festivals and the French Revolution (Cambridge MA 1991), 133.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PORTE 367

man lands knew slavery for w hat it w as: a licen se for sexual exploitation, re-sale, pawn-
ship, and the giftin g o f other hum an b ein gs.60 It w as this social reality that prompted
the Ottom an en v o y in Vienna, Ebubekir Ratib E fendi, w h o se report on the econ om ics
o f the French R evolu tion w as referenced ab ove, to m ock Jacobin slogan s, esp ecia lly the
facile com parison o f the status o f freeborn Europeans w ith th ose w h o w ere enslaved.
Such E nlightenm ent sim iles cou ld on ly have appeared to Ottom an elites and com m on­
ers alike as risible h yp erb ole.61
A lthough the scale o f servile labor in agriculture in a Caribbean setting like Saint-
D om ingue, w here the population o f the enslaved vastly outnumbered its free inhabitants
o f either European or African heritage, had no equivalent in Ottoman lands, greater appre­
ciation o f the m any form s o f servile status w ithin the Empire m ay also com plicate under­
standings o f enslavem ent in other settings. It m ay offer insights into the sociological logic
underlying Toussaint Louverture’s politics o f em ancipation as he attempted to re-organize
the colon y o f Saint-D om ingue betw een 1793, w hen the local French officials were forced
to recogn ize the end o f legal slavery on the island, and 1801, w hen Louverture directed his
army to annex Spanish H ispaniola. Throughout the 1790s, conflicts and rivalries within
the colon y had been fraught and m any-sided: the contests betw een settler-colonial Euro­
peans, black, and m ixed-race populations had been exceptionally violent. N either w hites
nor free blacks, both o f w hom held slaves, initially supported the em ancipation o f the
majority o f the co lo n y ’s black inhabitants. A fter the abolition o f slavery, the legacy o f
quotidian cruelty and hum iliation persisted, as did the extrem es o f wealth. A t the sam e
tim e, the history o f selectiv e m anum ission and the recognition o f m ixed race offspring
m eant that certain affinities endured b etw een form er slaves and masters, as did patterns
o f acculturation to French w ays. A dded to the m any id eological, racial, and econom ic
fault lines w ithin the island ’s society, w as the overw helm ing reality that Saint-D om in gue’s
em ancipation rem ained a unique outpost in a sea o f colonial slavery. In this setting, too,
freedom m eant freedom from legal slavery, as opposed to individual and political rights:
these basic realities justified Louverture’s determination to keep the plantation econom y
running and his reluctance to export the revolution beyond the island o f H ispaniola.62
In returning to our initial question as to w h y the translator-secretary ch o se to fore­
ground the nam e o f Toussaint Louverture and ascribe to him primary responsibility for
the rebellion on Saint D om ingu e, w e m ust assum e that he, like other O ttom an officials,
w as w ell aware o f the prevalence o f agricultural slavery in the French Caribbean. A l­
though Ottom an elites shared prejudices concerning skin color, birth, and ethno-geo-
graphic origin w ith European statesm en, they p o ssessed a degree o f discernm ent about

60 On conditions of the enslaved in Ottoman lands, see E. R. Toledano, As I f Silent and Absent:
Bonds o f Enslavement in the Islamic Middle East (New Haven 2007), and M. C. Zilfi, Women
and Slavery in the Late Ottoman Empire: The Design o f Difference (Cambridge 2010).
61 Yeçil, ‘Looking at the French Revolution through Ottoman Eyes’.
62 R Cheney, ‘Haiti’s Commericial Treaties: Between Abolition and the Persistence of the Old
Regime’ in A. Alimento and K. Stapelbroek (eds.) The Politics o f Commercial Treaties in the
Eighteenth Century: Balance o f Power, Balance o f Trade (London 2017), 401-420.
368 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

slave societies that eluded m ost o f their W estern counterparts. For officials ruled by a dy­
nasty perpetuated by con cubine-consorts and defended by an army that originated in the
form o f servile child recruits, no philosoph ical epiphany w as required to appreciate the
capabilities, intellect, and determ ination o f m en and w o m en w hatever the circum stances
o f their birth. Thus, regardless o f the terms o f the European p ress’s portrayal o f Louver-
ture’s character and m otivations or its assum ptions concerning the inherent (or innate)
superiority o f the European generals that w ere sent to defeat him , Ottom an writers could
no m ore underestim ate the seriousness o f h is challenge to the R epublic than they could
discount the erudition o f the Sudanese eunuchs w h o adm inistered the Sultan’s household,
deny the expertise o f the Jew ish banker w h o organized C ezzar Pasha’s d efen se o f Acre
in 1799, question the legal acum en o f a Christian voyvoda w h o governed a B lack Sea
principality under Ottoman suzerainty, or w onder about the lon gevity o f a dynasty o f
G eorgian slaves that had ruled the province o f Baghdad for the better part o f a century.

Reading the New Imperialism s Old Regime

This com m uniqué concerning Toussaint Louverture’s ‘reb ellion ’ arrived in Istanbul at a
m om ent w hen, although the France had finally withdrawn their troops from Egypt, O tto­
m an officials w ere still entangled in protracted n egotiations w ith French diplom ats. Paris
w as pressing the Ottom ans to sign a n ew treaty o f alliance w ith absent co n cessio n s, or
reparations for the enorm ous dam age to property caused by their assault on Egypt, and
m uch less com pensation for the lo ss o f life in Syria. G iven their lack o f forthrightness
over the term s o f the parallel n egotiations underway w ith the British, there w as am ple
reason for the Sublim e Porte’s officials to su spect that O ttom an interests in the postbel-
lum status o f E gypt w ere far from secure.
R eaders o f HAT 14127 in Istanbul, including the then Secretary o f State M ahumd R a if
Efendi and, perhaps, Sultan Selim III him self, w h o not infrequently left his com m ents on
com m unications and in telligen ce about European states, had b ecom e w ise to the w a y s o f
Bonaparte and Talleyrand. T hey had no need to com m ent on the contents o f this com m u­
niqué in a der kenar or marginal notation. Instead, despite the terseness o f the m essage,
critically telling, i f not fully accurate, details w o u ld have com m anded their attention. In
addition to m ention in g the num ber o f the ships and the 10,000 m en d ep loyed in the Brest
armada, the secretary added a lin e noting that the siz e o f the expedition w as great enough
to provoke alarm am ong m em bers o f the British Parliament (w h o had reason to distrust
French m otives in routing a h ostile flee t’s passage so c lo se to their shores, particularly
after the support giv en by Paris to the Irish rebellions o f 1796 and 1798). Similarly, the
docum ent’s reference to the fact that the com m ander o f the fleet w as a Bonaparte fam ily
m em ber, though not, as the L ondon secretary w rote, his brother (karinda§), but rather,
his brother-in-law, G eneral Charles V ictor Em m anuel L e Clerc (1 7 7 2 -1 8 0 2 ) (that is, Jo­
sep h in e’s M artinique-born brother), sign aled the fact that the First C onsul h im se lf set
considerable stock by the m issio n ’s su ccess. Interestingly enough, in contrast w ith the
m eticu lou sness sh ow n in the w riting o f “Toussaint Louverture”, the secretary did not feel
that the general w as w orthy o f m ention by name.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B LIM E PORTE 369

B y late 1801, n ew s o f F rance’s Caribbean d ilem m a, cou p led with recent com bat
exp erience w ith the French arm y and n avy in the A driatic, Italy, Egypt, and Syria dur­
ing the War o f the S econ d C oalition, m ust have prom pted an Ottoman re-assessm ent
o f the R ep u b lic’s m ilitary preparedness overall. Previous generations o f O ttom an ob­
servers and ad vice-givers had praise for the French m ilitary’s d iscip lin e and technique.
There w as no d en ying that R evolutionary arm ies in their d efen siv e and later o ffen sive
cam paigns on the C ontinent itse lf rem ained form idable. Ottom an observers credited
F rance’s victories on land to both leadership and the patriotic fervor that m o b ilized its
soldiers. In contrast to the resistan ce from the traditional infantry toward Sultan Selim
I l l ’s m ilitary reform s and against the conscription troops for the N e w Order arm y from
the general population - or for that matter, the h ostility toward B ritain’s continuing
practice o f dragooning A m erican citizen s into the R oyal N a v y - B onaparte’s armies
relied on infantry recruits from Poland, M alta, and Italy, as w e ll as from Christian com ­
m unities in the M iddle East. With the enfran ch isem ent o f the m ajority in G uadeloupe
and Saint-D om in gue, exp erienced black officers w h o had defen ded the co lo n y against
the Spanish and British incursions m anned colon ial garrisons.
Celebrated victories on the C ontinent notw ithstanding, the French navy n ever m ea­
sured up to Great B ritain’s state-ow ned armada and m erchant fleets by sea. D esp ite in­
corporating the port facilities, ships, sailors, and other m aritim e resources o f the Italian
cities under their control, Bonaparte’s imperial sch em es, w hich spanned from the Adri­
atic to the A tlantic and from the R ed S ea to the Indian O cean, far outstripped France’s
m aritim e capacity. British parliamentarians w h o w eig h ed Paris’ request for perm ission to
pass through E nglish waters toward the Caribbean, lam basted Bonaparte’s back-to-back
ventures in the M editerranean and A tlantic as hubristic folly. O fficials in Istanbul learned
that the one o f the principle reasons for B onaparte’s w ithdrawal from Egypt w as France’s
inability to conduct naval operations sim u ltan eou sly in tw o ocean ic theaters.63
Such a sober assessm en t o f one o f Europe’s m ost pow erful state’s ability to project
pow er should also caution historians against exaggerating the difference betw een the
logistics o f rule under the n ew im perialism and the m ore ‘traditional’ organization o f
the land-based agrarian em pires o f A sia at the turn o f the nineteenth century. B efore the
age o f industrialization and the introduction o f the steam en gin e transformed production
and transport, both European and A sian em pires w ere hobbled by constraints o f scale,
tech n ologies o f war, supply lines, and infrastructure. On land, ev en w ell-p rovision ed and
w ell-d iscip lin ed infantries m arched on fo o t and carried their supplies on their backs or
by m eans o f quadrupeds. S u ccess in battle depended not on ly on leadership, organiza­
tion, armaments, and size o f infantries, but also on w eather conditions, d isease, and the
availability o f passable roads for w h e ele d carriages and horses. A s such, although the
R evolu tion ’s overhaul o f state institutions vastly outstripped the m ore lim ited fiscal and
m ilitary program s o f the Nizam-i Cedid, both em pires continued to face daunting chal­
lenges w hen it cam e to m anaging far-flung lands and peoples.

63 BOA HAT 5968 (12/M/1217 [15 May 1802]). The French had pulled its troops from Egypt to
send an armada to the Americas.
370 A R IE L SA L ZM A N N

T hese logistical parallels as w ell as the problem s o f m anpow er and m orale w ere more
pronounced once the R ep u b lic’s arm ies left European shores and em barked on purely
im perial ventures. In E gypt, Bonaparte’s arm ies’ initial su ccesses proved d eceptive.64
A n undisciplined and poorly outfitted neo-M am luk cavalry offered no m atch for a w ell-
trained and w ell-arm ed W estern European infantry. Yet on ce Ottom an troops jo in ed their
allies on land and sea, the French advantage w as lost. In the Adriatic and Italy, the Tsar’s
navy and Ottoman soldiers d efeated the French garrisons stationed in the Ionian Islands
and helped to defend N aples; the Em pire’s N e w Order soldiers w ou ld prove up to the task
o f defending Syria. In Egypt, French reversals cam e hard on the h eels o f victories, as the
British navy soundly d efeated the French armada in the N ile and join t Ottom an-British
forces confronted R epublican troops on land. A lthough the French arm y’s retreat to U p­
per Egypt extended their occupation, it cam e at considerable cost in m en and treasure.
Short on m anpower, the sam e French officers w h o pretended to be liberating the E gyp­
tians resorted to the purchase o f en slaved persons to supplem ent their forces.
It w as not only in terms o f their im perial aggression in Ottoman lands that the French
generals gave short shrift to R epublican ideals. Throughout the French Em pire, the R e­
public had yet to retire the signature adm inistrative practices o f the old regim e. Like the
Ottom ans, the French cou ld not afford to universalize the n ew regim e. W hether land-
based or oceanic, giv en the large scale o f territories and overseas co lo n ies, as w e ll as the
extrem e diversity o f social contexts, im perial rule m eant that the very reform s that w ere
im planted in the core areas o f the state proved very difficult and, at tim es, im p ossible to
replicate in peripheral p rovinces or distant co lo n ies. Thus, despite degrees o f revolution­
ary centralization and standardization, m any features o f the old regim e endured w hile
others w ere re-introduced as the ex ig en cies o f w ar and im perial strategies required. This
duality w as not new : A lex is de T ocqu eville described absolutism under the Bourbons as
a “rigid type o f rule w ith a soft practice” .65B y “soft practice” T ocqu eville referred to the
great latitude accorded local authorities, esp ecia lly th ose entrusted w ith governance at
the periphery o f em pires and large states.
In a m id-nineteenth century treatise dedicated to understanding the social, in tellec­
tual, and institutional roots o f the French R evolu tion, T ocqu eville underscored the lines
o f political continuity in practices b etw een the old and n ew regim es. With unm istakable
irony, he traced the ety m o lo g y o f R evolutionary “liberty” in the m onarchy’s ow n former
practices, rem arking that ev en the old regim e offered its subjects a form o f “liberty”,
h ow ever irregular or erratic in application (“une esp èce de liberté irrégulière”). This took
the form o f special p rivileges accorded the aristocracy and provincial administrators.66
Little w onder that O ttom an politicians also re-purposed old regim e term s to describe
w hat they regarded as both an id eological departure and a perm utation on an existing
phenom enon. Serbestiyet, a Persian-A rabic n eo lo g ism , derived from the administration
concept o f serbest, an O ttom an adm inistrative practice indicating a cluster o f im m uni­

64 Cole, Napoleon's Egypt, 66.

65 Alexis de Tocqueville, L ’ancien regime et la Revolution (Paris 1866), 121.
66 Ibid., 199.
 B E T W E E N SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B LIM E PO R TE 371

ties enjoyed by functionaries and tax farmers w h o w ere free from central state oversight,
w as also used as a m eans o f describing the p rivileges enjoyed by foreign aristocrats. It
too contained seed s o f a m ore m od em notion o f ‘liberty’. The translation o f the clause
pertaining to the serbest status accorded the Crim ean khans under the Treaty o f Küçük
Kaynarca (1 7 7 4 ) w as rendered in Italian as “libertâ loro politico e civile” (their political
and civ ic freedom s).67
It w as precisely the old regim e practice o f ‘liberty Iserbestiyef - what British colonial
administrators w ould later term “indirect rule” - that continued to provide both French
and Ottoman authorities an operational format for governing im perial peripheries before,
during, and after the R evolution. Ottom an observers w h o fo llo w ed the adm inistration o f
European colonialism in the A m ericas, including h o w that the French and British applied
such p olicies in their interactions w ith indigenous p eop les in the A m ericas and in order to
enlist their m ilitary support in proxy w ars over control o f the Great Lakes region ,68 were
w ell aware o f the parallels. T he revolt o f the A m erican Thirteen C olon ies against Great
Britain w as but one exam p le o f the often contentious relationship b etw een European
states and their overseas subjects w h o in sisted on d egrees o f liberty in the conduct o f lo­
cal affairs and fiscal questions. D uring the R evolutionary Wars, there are m any exam ples
in w hich European pow ers found it im p ossible to im pose the law s o f the center on settler
colonial populations: for exam ple in the French M ascarene Islands (in the W estern Indian
O cean) the governor and provincial assem b ly o f the Ile de France (M auritius) rejected
the 1794 em ancipation law p assed by the N ational A ssem b ly, d efy in g Paris for a decade;
sim ilarly, the local officers o f the British East Indian C om pany all too often to o k mat­
ters into their ow n hands in defiance o f L on don ’s prerogatives.69 E xploiting fears am ong
royalists concerning the potential con tagion o f revolutionary ideas and the possib ility
o f collaboration w ith the French, the M arquis o f W ellesley produced docum ents, likely
falsified, that claim ed Sultan Fath A li Sahab Tipu (Tipu Sultan) (1 7 5 0 -1 7 9 9 ) had sup­
ported a Jacobin Club in h is capital as retroactive justification o f h is p re-em ptive strike
on M ysore in M ay 1799 .70
Wartime marked a revival o f old regim e p o licies o f ‘liberty Iserbestiyef in both the
French and Ottom an em pires. W hile the center concentrated its forces in order to conduct
m ilitary cam paigns in other regions, th ese p o licies served to m aintain the loyalty o f lo­
cal elites and power-brokers as w ell as to stabilize governance in m ore distant realm s. In
this regard, there is m ore than a passin g resem blance b etw een the relationship o f Paris
w ith the Caribbean and Istanbul’s tenuous ties w ith the B alkans at the turn o f the cen­

67 B. Lewis, The Political Language ofIslam (Chicago 1988), 109-111, 174; for amore nuanced
discussion: H. Yilmaz, ‘From Serbestiyet to Hürriyet: Ottoman Statesmen and the Question of
Freedom during the Late Enlightenment’, SI, 111(2016), 202-230.
68 BOA Cevdet Hariciye 9160 ( 14/S /1192 [ 14 March 1778]).
69 There was no universal abolition in the French colonies.
70 J. Boutier, ‘Les “lettres de créances” du corsaire Ripaud. Un club jacobin” à Srirangapatnam
(Inde), mai-juin 1797’, Les Indes Savantes (2005). <halshs-00007971> https://hal.archives-
ouvertes.fr/halshs-00007971/document (accessed November 9, 2018).
372 A R IEL SA LZM A N N

tury.71 Both regions supplied critical resources to the central state w hether in the form
o f raw materials, tax revenues, or com m ercial products. M oreover, during the conflicts
on the Continent, in the Adriatic and Egypt, both the French Caribbean and the Ottoman
Balkans presented major security ch allenges for their respective imperial centers. G iven
their proxim ity to rival states, frontier provinces afforded the local lords w h o dom inated
them w ith considerable autonom y as they leveraged their loyalty to and support for cen ­
tral authority on the basis o f a changing political map.
The Wars o f the S econd C oalition w itnessed important shifts in the degree and nature
o f central state intervention to maintain control over p eop les, lands, and resources in
these regions. R elations betw een local authorities and the center seesa w ed b etw een de
facto autonom y and nom inal ob eisance. Comparable, too, w ere the careers o f regional
power-brokers, w hom state officials m ight regard as loyal subjects one day and rebels the
next. A m on g the m any Ottoman exam ples, Vidinli O sm an P azvantoglu (1 7 5 8 -1 8 0 5 ) o f
Bulgaria am assed territory from the D anube to the Balkan M ountains and from B elgrade
to Varna.72 A s the Sublim e Porte vacillated b etw een condem nation and p olitical reha­
bilitation, Pazvantoglu m inted his ow n coins and conducted d iplom acy w ith European
pow ers independent o f Istanbul. In the Caribbean, his counterpart to o k a sim ilar path.
Louverture w ho em erged as the com m ander o f an army o f form er slaves challenged
French p olicies by leveraging an alliance w ith the British to liberate S ain t-D om in gu e’s
slaves. With the N ational A sse m b ly ’s abolition o f slavery and suspension o f the A frican
slave trade, he sw itch ed sid es in 1794.
On the ev e o f the outbreak o f the War o f the S econ d C oalition, com petition b etw een
neighbouring territorial states furnished local power-brokers w ith the p ossib ility o f bar­
gaining for greater autonom y from central authorities in Istanbul and Paris. A s Paris
m ade overtures to Pazvantoglu, w hom Le Moniteur hailed as the leader o f a potential
“M oham m edan R epublic”, the Sultan elevated him to the rank o f pasha.73 In the Ca­
ribbean, as Bonaparte concentrated a substantial portion o f the R ep u b lic’s ground and
sea forces toward a cam paign in the M editerranean, Paris rewarded Louverture w ith
a title and eventually recognition as the m ilitary com m ander o f the colony. A lthough
Louverture exp elled the French C om m issioner o f S aint-D om ingue, L éger-F élicité Son-
thonax, from the co lo n y in 1797, he nevertheless continued to enjoy the support o f Paris.
With N a p o leo n ’s arm ies en gaged in the Adriatic, M alta, E gypt, and Syria, Louverture
conducted his ow n foreign p olicy, concluding com m ercial treaties w ith Great Britain
(1 7 9 8 ) and the U nited States (1 7 9 9 ). So obvious w ere the analogies b etw een the French
and Ottoman em pires to observers like Albert Gallatin, a Sw iss-born representative from

71 A. Yaycioglu, Partners o f the Empire, 104; more generally, F. Adamr, ‘Semi-autonomous

forces in the Balkans and Anatolia’, in S. Faroqhi (ed.), The Cambridge History o f Turkey: The
Later Ottoman Empire, 1603-1839, Vol. 3 (Cambridge 2006), 157-185.
72 F. S. Turhan, Janissaries, Modernisation and Rebellion in the Nineteenth Century (London
2014), 196-197.
73 R. T. Sellaouti, ‘The Republic and the Muslim World’ in A. I. Forrest and M. Middell (eds),
French Revolution in World History, 97-116 (esp. 109-110).
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B LIM E PO RTE 373

P ennsylvania in the U nited States C ongress and an opponent o f the 1799 treaty betw een
the U nited States and Saint-D om ingue, that he w arned con gressm en that the sem i-auton­
om ous French co lo n y m ight b ecom e the A lgeria o f the A tlantic.74
Surely, such geop olitical parallels w ere not lost on the Istanbul readers o f HAT 14127.
Ottoman officials sum m oned their tacit k n ow led ge gained from the first-hand experience
o f m anaging the m ovin g parts o f a m ulti-continental territorial em pire to interpret the
subtexts o f this com m uniqué. In the face o f the m achinations o f French diplom ats and the
bluster and b ellico se talk about dism antling the Ottom an Em pire that rem ained a them e
in the French press, Ottom an officials w o u ld have had no problem in extracting the larger
m eaning and potential con seq u en ce o f the docu m ent’s b rief though highly resonant lines;
indeed, they knew that betw een Egypt, India, and n o w the upheaval in the ‘Pearl o f A ntil­
le s ’, the French Em pire w as facin g an enorm ous crisis w ith m yriad con seq u en ces for its
econom ic stability and m ilitary capability. Le C lerc’s charge w as to capture the “rebel”
Louverture and regain m ilitary control over the entire island o f H ispaniola. In addition,
Paris ordered the preparation o f fleets and reinforcem ent from other ports, m ost o f w hich
w ere also directed at Saint-D om ingue. Other fleets w ere directed toward the occupation
o f G uadeloupe and the G u lf o f M ex ico . In the scram ble to man these operations and find
able-bodied soldiers, the R epublic drafted Germ ans, S w iss, B asqu es, M altese, and Poles.
Rather than a national army o f French patriots, the im perial troops w hom Bonaparte sent
across the seas anticipated a version o f the Légion étrangère,75

Colonial Convergence and Ottoman Realpolitik (1798-1804)

The previous sections have considered the telegraphic w ording o f the first part o f the
H.H. 14127 concerning F rance’s responses to Louverture’s ch allenge in the Caribbe­
an. A lthough shorn o f detail, a reconstruction o f the cosm op olitan intellectual m ilieu
in w hich the O ttom an sta ff in L ondon and Istanbul operated supports a m ore nuanced
interpretation o f h ow its writers and readers m ay have interpreted the inform ation and
suggests important geop olitical im plications. T his reconstruction o f the ep istem ic con­
text has also relied upon an appreciation o f the social and institutional k n ow led ge that
Ottoman officials brought to bear on tum -of-the-century im perial rule. Indeed, there was
no need to explain to the bureaucrats in Istanbul the strategic danger p osed b y an astute,
able, and pow erful ayan lik e Louverture w h o cou ld leverage his p osition in a pivotal area
o f the French Em pire to either dictate term s to the center or break free o f im perial control.
Yet this interpretation d oes not fu lly resolve all the p u zzlin g com ponents o f the com ­
m uniqué, particularly the seem in g disjuncture b etw een the content o f its op en in g state­
m ents and those referring to British responses to this situation. It is p recisely b ecau se the
inform ation about the Caribbean speaks so em phatically about the geop olitical vulnera­
bility o f the French that the balance o f text, w hich concerns the resum ption o f diplom acy

74 G. S. Brown, Toussaint’s Clause: The Founding Fathers and the Haitian Revolution (Tuscal­
oosa 2005), 141.
75 D. P. Geggus, Haitian Revolutionary Studies (Bloomington 2002), 25-27.
374 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

w ith their n em esis, Great Britain, appears discon nected , even counterintuitive: France
had lost battle after battle, from the Adriatic to the N ile . In 1798, after Adm iral Hora­
tio N e ls o n ’s stunning victory over François-Paul B rueys D ’A igalliers w hich destroyed
France’s m ain fleet in the M editerranean, discerning observers k new that the war w as, to
all intents and purposes, practically over. The fo llo w in g year, the East India C om p any’s
assault on M ysore foreclosed any future French d esign s to control the entrance to the
Indian O cean via the Red Sea. B y the tim e o f the w riting o f this com m uniqué from Lon­
don, British and Ottoman forces had also routed the French army from Low er Egypt; the
last R epublican troops had departed Egypt the previous September. A nd yet, at the very
m om ent w hen France w as m ost vulnerable, the Sublim e Porte learned that the British
governm ent - fully apprised o f the R ep ub lic’s conundrum in the Caribbean - ch o se not
to fo llo w up on its m ilitary advantage. Stranger still, notw ithstanding British suspicion s
concerning Bonaparte’s real m otives, the n ew Prime M inister perm itted the French ex p e­
dition to cross the English Channel en route to the A m ericas. D ip lom acy to end the war
proceeded apace w ith n egotiations in L ondon in October, y ield in g a British prom ise to
m eet in A m ien s to conclude a final agreem ent.
What did Ottoman officials m ake o f this turn in Franco-British relations? G iven their
position o f overw helm ing dom inance, w h y hadn’t the British fo llo w ed up on their v ic ­
tories in the A tlantic and M editerranean as they had in the Indian O cean? Was this shift
in p olicy from w ar to diplom acy to be attributed to the replacem ent o f the im placably
Francophobie ex-Prim e M inister W illiam Pitt the Y ounger (1 7 5 9 -1 8 0 6 ) in 1801? Strang­
er still, rather than encouraging the British negotiators to press for greater con cession s
from France, the situation in Saint-D om in gue seem ed to accelerate co-operation b etw een
the tw o pow ers. C onsidering the fact that French diplom ats actually attem pted to barter
their p osition in E gypt against a restoration o f their ports in India, the Ottoman court and
diplom ats had good reason to fear that the British turn from war to n egotiations m ight
indicate that erstw hile friend and fo e had arrived at a com prom ise at the exp en se o f the
Sublim e Porte.
B y bringing together inter-hem ispheric concerns and the paradoxes o f war and peace
on a sin gle page, the Ottoman docu m ent’s written and unwritten com ponents not only
underscore the grey zo n es in Ottom an d iplom acy w ith their European counterparts due
to the m ulti-lateral nature o f n egotiations taking p lace in France, Istanbul, Egypt, and
London. Situating Ottoman responses in an intellectual m ilieu w ith inter-hem ispheric
co-ordinates also furnishes an historical counterpoint to w hat otherw ise have been rather
narrow expectations about w hat the Sublim e Porte k n ew and w hen, as w ell as the extent
o f inform ation (or ignorance) in v o lv ed in both m ilitary strategies and political d ecisio n ­
m aking. It presents an alternative perspective on the chan ging stakes in global conflicts
during this phase o f the R evolutionary and N a p o leo n ic Wars. It points to potentially
flaw ed assum ptions about geography and agen cy that have influenced narratives that
have foregrounded the Great Pow ers and their struggles for dom inance w ithin continen­
tal Europe, and to a lesser degree w ithin the M editerranean and Indian O cean.76 Such

76 P. W. Schroeder, Systems, Stability, and Statecraft: Essays on the International History o f Mod-
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B LIM E PO R TE 375

biased narratives, even w ith respect to the greater M editerranean, as recent scholarship
reveals,77 ignore the m ultiplicity o f geop olitical variables in these contexts and the con­
sequential nature o f the participation o f pow ers often regarded as outliers to the European
continental order, such as Tsarist R ussia and the O ttom an Empire. S o too, w ithou t enlarg­
ing the geop olitical lens to capture less prom inent inter-hem ispheric actors, such as the
Sultanate o f M ysore and the n ew ly form ed U nited States o f A m erica as w ell as a host
o f o f sem i-autonom ous, sub-im perial brokers in the Caribbean, North A frica, and the
Balkans these narratives fail to capture the central dynam ic o f these m ulti-lateral, inter-
hem ispheric wars. A s the final text o f the Treaty o f A m ien s w ou ld articulate, the War o f
the Second C oalition its e lf took p lace w ithin a zon e stretching from the Great Lakes in
N orth A m erica to the R ed S ea and from the Indian O cean to South Am erica.
Such a revisionist, inter-hem ispheric p erspective on the War o f the S econ d C oalition
is particularly important for tw o reasons. First, becau se throughout the war, th ese extra-
European theaters o f com petition rem ained critical to appreciating the tim ing o f Euro­
pean m ilitary engagem ent on the Continent and the M editerranean as w ell as the larger
econom ic and strategic calculus o f the British, French, D utch (B atavian), and Spanish
em pires. Second, becau se the oscillation s b etw een and the gravitational pull o f colonial
and continental interests influenced the terms o f the peace b etw een these pow ers. In ef­
fect, by 1801, shared European colonial interests in the A tlantic to a large d egree took
precedence over com petition w ithin zo n es o f the eastern hem isphere, from the M editer­
ranean to the Indian O cean. W hether it w a s the continuance o f the trans-A tlantic traf­
ficking in en slaved A frican p eop les, shoring up the plantation econ om y threatened by
the em ancipation o f the population o f the Caribbean’s w ealth iest colony, or supporting
the expansion o f sugar production to other tropical island co lo n ies, the turn to diplom acy
represented a con vergen ce o f colonial concerns that forced an inter-im perial truce. A
cessation o f the conflict w ould a llo w the C onsulate to redirect its forces tow ard Saint-
D om ingue. Staunching struggles for freedom by the en slaved w ithin the Caribbean was
in the interests o f every European colonial power.
From this perspective, the translators at the O ttom an em b assy in L ondon w h o priori­
tized the elem ents in the story w ithin the com m uniqué got it right: what they transmitted
to Istanbul underscored the hierarchy o f European interests at this m om ent, their shared
investm ents in the Caribbean generally, and the absolutely central im portance o f the
unfolding events in Saint-D om ingue to the relatively rapid con clu sion o f n egotiations
betw een 1801 and 1802. Indeed, it points to a sin g le overarching narrative thread that
connects the larger geop olitical contests across both hem ispheres: the S econ d C oalition
War w ould be better described as a short interruption in the decade o f the Flaitian R evolu ­
tion that began w ith the self-em an cip ation o f its en slaved population in 1793 and ended
w ith the rout o f the French in late 1803. B etw een 1794 and 1800, Louverture’s govern­
m ent becam e the geop olitical and eco n o m ic anchor in France’s im perial strategy not only
in the A tlantic but also in the M editerranean and the Indian O cean. The co lo n y w hich

ern Europe (New York 2004).

77 Çakul, ‘An Ottoman Global Moment’.
376 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

counted m ore than a h a lf m illion form er slaves form ed a d efen siv e bastion for the Repub­
lic w ith respect to other European em pires. C oupled w ith the im portance o f the island’s
agricultural production for the French d om estic eco n o m y w as the fact that its citizenry
form ed, by virtue o f their em ancipation, a sw ord o f D a m o cles hanging over the slave
regim es in the colonial Carribean. G iven the British precedent o f offerin g freedom to en­
slaved persons in exchan ge for their m ilitary support during the Am erican Independence
War, London had g o o d reason to fear that Bonaparte m ight d ep loy an army o f freedmen
under the banner o f the ‘R ights o f M an ’ to extend French rule across the Caribbean.
So long as Sain t-D om in gu e’s thousands o f plantations rem ained secure, Bonapar­
te could afford to gam ble in the eastern hem isphere. H is cam paigns against M alta and
Egypt w ere directed at frustrating British com m un ication s w ith the Indian O cean by
controlling the k ey overland access point con n ectin g the M editerranean w ith the Red
Sea. D espite its pom p and sp ectacle, France’s Egyptian cam paign proved to be a dism al
failure. Bonaparte m ay have hoped to d evelop an active alliance w ith M ysore and the
Marathas, despite the fact that the French no longer en joyed a substantial territorial pres­
ence on the subcontinent or naval support from the Ile de France, given the settler c o lo ­
n ists’ revolt against the Paris governm ents o f the D irectorate and later, the C onsulate.78
N on e o f these plans succeeded. The returns from E gypt, in com parison w ith France’s
w ell-established investm ents in and revenues from the Caribbean w ere m inim al. B eyond
the looting o f antiquities and n eo-M am luk treasure, B onaparte’s foray into the Ottoman
Empire proved to be enorm ously costly in terms o f m en, arm am ents, and ships. French
m erchants and the D irectory’s coffers incurred additional lo sses as the Sultan im pounded
French good s and prohibited French com m erce in O ttom an ports for the duration o f the
conflict. O ne m ust assum e that Bonaparte's bold attempt to reroute w orld trade and annex
one o f the key provinces o f the classical and Islam ic w orld appealed to an im perial irre-
dentism am ong the French public, a dream o f turning back the clo ck before the m assive
forfeiture o f colon ies fo llo w in g the S even Years’ War (1 7 4 7 -1 7 5 6 ) in the Indian O cean
and the A tlantic. In the end, m oreover, the R ep u b lic’s dream s o f unrequited em pire took
additional victim s. W ithout the backing o f n eighboring independent Indian states on land
or the French navy at sea, M y so re’s ruler Tipu Sultan died defen din g his capital Sriran-
gapatnam in 1799 against an unprovoked assault by the East India C om pany that resulted
in the British annexation o f his k ingdom .79
In the Mediterranean, too, Bonaparte m iscalculated the strength o f his allies and the
abilities o f his foes. In his detailed study o f Ottoman participation in the Secon d Coalition

78 B. Smith, ‘Diplomacy and its Forms of Knowledge: Anquetil-Duperron, the Balance of Power
and India in the French Global Imaginary, 1778-1803’, in M. Fourcade and I. Zupanov (eds),
L ’Inde des Lumières: entre l'orientalisme et les sciences sociales (XVI-XIXe s.)/Indian Enlight­
enment, between Orientalism and Social Sciences (I6th-19th c.) (Purusartha 2013), 209-228;
esp. 219- 220.
79 A. Ray, ‘France and Mysore: A History of Diverse French Strategies’, 120-139 in State and
Diplomacy under Tipu Sultan: Documents and Essays, ed. Irfah Habib (New Delhi 2001 ), 134-
135; Y. Bayur, ‘Maysor Sultam Tipu ile Osmanli Padiçahlarmdan I. Abdiilhamid ve III. Selim
Arasmdaki Mektuplaçma’, Belleten, 12 (1948), 643-650.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B L IM E PO RTE i l l

War, Kahraman Çakul convin cin gly argues that the Sublim e Porte w as not caught unawares
by France’s imperial intentions, particularly after the annexation o f the R epublic o f Venice
and the Treaty o f Campo Form io (1 7 9 7 ).80 A lthough the Ottoman A m bassador in Paris
m ight have been deliberately m isled by French prevarications concerning the direction o f
the French fleet, before Bonaparte’s disembarkation in Alexandria in the sum m er o f 1798,
the Ottoman bureaucracy w as already in m otion. They recruited troops and sought n ew al­
liances. Sultan Selim I ll’s officials by-passed potential objections by the ulem a to M uslim
participation in a European military coalition by solicitin g afetva from the §eyhiilislam that
recognized the urgency o f the situation and the existential threat it p osed to the Empire.
O ttom an intellectuals articulated their ow n version o f R ealpolitk. This overarching
strategy is to be found in Secretary o f State A hm ed A tif E fen d i’s 1798 m em orandum o f
the ‘B alance o f P o litic s’. In it, he ju stifies a tw o-tier strategy o f alliances and m ilitary
defense that distinguished b etw een the long-term and short-term interests o f the Em ­
pire.81 In the long term, it w as necessary to continue to be v igilan t concerning the m ost
proxim ate and im m ediate geop olitical threats to the Em pire, presented b y Tsarist R ussia
to the east and Habsburg A ustria to the w est. Such long-term considerations, however,
did not preclude tem porary coalitions to respond to rogue regim es ( o f w h ich h e consid­
ered R evolutionary France to be a prim e exam p le) or to m ilitary ex ig en cies. T he French
invasion o f the Adriatic and Egypt triggered such a shift in p o licies. D uring the w inter o f
1798-1799, the Em pire conclud ed three n ew alliances in su ccession: w ith R u ssia on 23
D ecem ber 1798, w ith Great Britain on 5 January 1799, and w ith the K ingdom o f the Two
S icilies on 21 January 1799. The O ttom an m ilitary co-ordinated w ith the R ussian navy
in the Adriatic; O ttom an officers and soldiers fough t alon gsid e their Christian European
counterparts w ithout incident.
This coordinated d efen se o f Egypt and a deteriorating situation w ithin Europe forced
an abrupt change in French strategy. A ustria’s declaration o f w ar on 9 October, along
w ith m ounting turm oil w ithin the D irectory governm ent precipitated B onaparte’s aban­
donm ent o f the army in Syria and Egypt. C onsidering the m agnitude o f the R ep u b lic’s
lo sses for his ow n career, his early departure w a s fortunate. B efore the ign om iniou s
evacuation o f the last French troops from A lexandria, Bonaparte capitalized on France’s
unrequited dreams o f a n ew empire. With his allies, he engineered the N o v em b er coup
d ’état and the p leb iscite that d issolved the D irectory and m ade h im se lf First C onsul for
life. A t one blow , the 18th Brumaire putsch put an end to the period o f dem ocratic fer­
m ent and curtailed the extension o f the n ew franchise to the non-European populations
o f the Empire. R ecogn izin g the m ounting discontent am ong citizen s in France w h o had
profited from the slave trade and colonialism , the First C onsul so o n prom ised Frenchm en

80 Çakul, ‘An Ottoman Global Moment’.

81 “Memorandum of the Reis ul-Kuttab Atif Efendi Pertaining to the Balance of Political Affairs
... For every state must have two kinds of policy. One is the permanent policy which is taken
as the foundation of all its actions and activities; the other is a temporary policy, followed for a
period, in accordance with the requirements of the time and circumstance.” T. Naff, ‘Ottoman
Diplomacy and the Great European Powers 1789-1802’, unpublished Ph. D. dissertation, Uni­
versity of California, Berkeley, 1961, 234-235.
378 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

a n ew order based on a dual legal cod e, one p rivilegin g continental citizens and another
d esigned for the subordination o f colonial populations.82
In the im m ediate aftermath o f the coup d ’état, Bonaparte dined w ith m any o f Saint-
D om in gu e’s w ealth iest plantation ow ners, sign alin g both his sym pathy w ith their e c o ­
nom ic concerns and his intention to return to the status quo ante in the Caribbean.83 A s
the regim e consolidated their p ow er at hom e and in Italy, S aint-D om ingue appeared to
veer toward independence. B y 1801, Louverture assum ed de facto control over m uch o f
the m ilitary and civ il adm inistration o f the island. A s Bonaparte em barked on an Egyptian
adventure, Louverture operated unilaterally. H e conclud ed treaties w ith the British and
A m ericans that assured a steady flo w o f staples and industrial supplies to feed the colony
and keep the sugar m ills running. T h ese treaties guaranteed the protection o f foreign
merchants in S aint-D om in gu e’s ports w h ile securing shipping lanes across the Atlantic
in wartim e. W ithout the p erm ission o f Paris, on 2 6 January 1801, G overnor General and
D elegate o f the French G overnm ent Louverture sent his army o f 2 0 ,0 0 0 battle-hardened
soldiers into the eastern h a lf o f H ispaniola to enforce the term s o f the France-Spanish
Treaty o f B asle o f 1795 that had assigned Santo D om in go to France. A fter liberating
Santo D o m in g o ’s en slaved population, Louverture charged an assem b ly w ith the task o f
drafting a constitution for the island. Its initial articles abolish ed slavery and all distinc­
tions based on race throughout the island. It carefully defined the territorial integrity o f
the island and conferred the o ffic e o f Governor-General for L ife on Louverture.84
Judging from the debates in the United States C ongress over w hether to conclude the
treaty w ith Saint-D om in gue, neighboring states did not regard this colon y o f em ancipat­
ed slaves as France’s d ilem m a alone. B efore the revolt and the ending o f the French slave
trade, S aint-D om ingue produced m ore sugar than the rest o f the Caribbean islands co m ­
bined. From V irginia to the W indward Islands and B razil, the n ew citizen s o f H ispaniola
posed, by their very existen ce as free m en and w om en , a threat to the very basis o f the
colonial econ om ic order. The French am bassador w h o congratulated Thom as Jefferson
upon his election in 1800, w as greeted by the n ew president w ith a declaration o f his
readiness to aid the French overthrow Louverture. Jefferson offered to put H ispan iola’s
ports under an A m erican naval b lockade that w ou ld ‘starve’ its population into subm is­
sion .85 D esp ite such w illin g allies, Bonaparte appears not to have m ade a final d ecision
on w hat course to pursue in the Caribbean before 1801.86 B oth action and inaction p osed
risks for the Empire. On the on e hand, im posing slavery by m ilitary m eans w ou ld con ­

82 L. Dubois, ‘The Haitian Revolution and the Sale of Louisiana, or Thomas Jefferson’s (Unpaid)
Debt to Jean-Jacques Dessalines’, in P. J. Kastor and F. Weil (eds) Empires o f the Imagination:
Transatlantic Histones o f the Louisiana Purchase (Charlottesville 2009), 98.
83 Ibid., 98.
84 E. Matibag, Haitian-Dominican Counterpoint: Nation, State, and Race on Hispaniola (London
2003), 72-73.
85 Brown, Toussaint’s Clause, 200, 214.
86 L. Dubois, A Colony o f Citizens: Revolution and Slave Emancipation in The French Caribbe­
an, 1787-1804 (London 2004). 42; see also P. Branda and Th. Lentz, Napoléon, l ’esclavage et
les colonies (Paris 2006).
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PORTE 379

dem n thousands o f resisting workers to death and lik ely in volve the destruction o f crops,
housing, equipm ent, and sugar m ills. On the other hand, w ithout the restoration o f slav­
ery, the French plantation ow ners and settler-colonists w ould lik ely leave or throw their
loyalty behind another European power.
A s the French w ithdrew from Egypt over the summ er o f 1801, the focu s o f Europe’s
political and m erchant elite turned toward the Caribbean. B etw een 1801 and 1803, Saint-
D om ingue dom inated reports, new spapers, and parliamentary debates. Scottish, English,
and Irish new sletters m ention the m ost important sugar colonies, British Jam aica and
French Saint-D om ingue frequently. B y 1802, articles on the tw o m ost important Carib­
bean colon ies eclip sed those on E gypt.87 A t a tim e w hen Georg W ilhelm Friedrich H egel
w as developin g his theory o f the dialectic betw een bondsman and master w h ich w ould
appear in 1807 in the Phenomenology of Spirit (Phânomenologie des Geistes), the Ger­
man press also covered events on the island extensively, particularly the brave resistance
o f former slaves to the French military.88 A gain st this background, neither the open ing o f
diplom acy betw een France and Britain in the fall o f 1801 nor the speed with w h ich British
diplom ats agreed to allo w a French armada to sail into English waters should be consid­
ered a coincidence. That British and French colonial interests converged in the Caribbean
w as openly d iscussed in the British Parliament: one m em ber o f the British H ou se o f Lords
admitted that F rance’s su ccess in the capture o f Louverture w as essential for the “security
o f our ow n co lo n ies”; another averred that the freedom enjoyed by the island’s majority
black population itse lf presented a “moral danger” for the colonial econom y overall.89
In October, as the principal parties reached a preliminary agreem ent to end h ostilities
in London, France, w ith British b lessings, sent General Le Clerc and the first naval exp e­
dition to Saint-D om ingue to arrest Toussaint Louverture.90 For the C onsulate’s leaders,
this action w as only the first, albeit utterly essential, step in launching a larger imperial
venture in the A tlantic. Leading up to the signing o f the Treaty o f A m ien s, Bonaparte’s
regim e prepared the necessary arrangements for this n ew imperial offensive. H is diplo­
mats p eeled o f f m em bers o f the anti-French coalition by conclud in g a series o f bilateral
treaties. O ver the course o f 1801 and 1802, France appeased A ustria and Spain w ith title
to regions on the Italian peninsula w h ile engaging in negotiations w ith the Ottom an en­
v o y s in Alexandria, Istanbul, and Paris. A rguably the sin gle m ost important com ponent o f

87 In 1801, newspapers cited Egypt 5510 times, Jamaica 2541 times, and Saint-Domingue 777
times; by 1802 references to Egypt fell to 3086, lower than Jamaica (3479) and only about 10%
higher than Saint-Domingue (2772). The British Newspaper Archive https://www.britishnews-
paperarchive.co.uk (accessed November 9, 2018).
88 S. Buck-Morss, Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History (Pittsburgh 2009), 48-49.
89 For an overview of the debates in Parliament about France’s campaign 1801, see ‘Mr. Can­
ning’s Motion Respecting the Cultivation of the Island of Trinidad (May 27, 1801)’, The Par­
liamentary History o f Englandfrom the Earliest Period to the Year to the Year 1803. Hansard’s
Parliamentary Debates 27 October 1801 to 12 August 1803, Vol. 36 (London 1820), 854-876.
“... was it possible to look at the present state of the colonial world without feeling consider­
able awe and apprehension?”
90 For Louverture’s resistance and capture see James, pp. 332-339.
380 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

France’s diplom acy took place in secret. Under the term s o f the unannounced Treaty o f
Ildefonso, signed on 21 M arch 1801, Spain agreed to retrocede the portion o f the North
A m erican continent that France lost during the S even Years’ War: what w ould b ecom e o f
the ‘Louisiana Purchase’ w hen it w as sold to the U nited States in 1803, con sistin g o f lands
that stretched from tod ay’s Canadian prairie provinces and the Great Lakes southward
along the length o f the M ississipp i River up to and including the Port o f N e w Orleans.
With the notable excep tion o f the Treaty o f Ildefonso, these diplom atic agreem ents
w ere reconfirm ed in the final treaty signed on 25 March 1802 at A m ien s.91 The principal
imperial parties negotiated for them selves and their less powerful allies: Great Britain and
Ireland acted on b eh alf o f Portugal and the Ottoman Empire, w hile France negotiated on
b eh alf o f the Dutch (the Batavian R epublic) and Spain. France m ade considerable co n ces­
sions: it recognized the autonom y o f the Adriatic R epublic o f the S even Islands, affirmed
Ottoman sovereignty over Egypt, and prom ised to withdraw its troops from N aples and
the Vatican States. A strategic node in the Mediterranean, M alta w as accorded special
attention. G iven its important p lace in the Tsar’s occidental policy, the treaty’s text laid
out its post-w ar status in great detail, sp elling opt the terms o f its independence and the
m easures taken to safeguard it. The British and French governm ents pled ged to w ithhold
their candidates from the rotation for the Grand M aster and to jo in Russia, Austria, Spain,
and Prussia in supporting the garrisoning o f Sicilian troops on the island.
T he treaty’s verbosity w ith regard to the autonom y o f the sm allest points in the M edi­
terranean, how ever, w as in inverse proportion to the su ccin ct terms devoted to describing
the fate o f enorm ous territories in the Indian and A tlantic O ceans under European c o lo ­
nial control. A s such, the articles o f the Treaty o f A m ien s, a peace that marked the end o f
m ilitary conflicts on the C ontinent and in the M editerranean, provide v iv id exam ples o f
the far greater areas o f collaboration and the spirit o f co-operation that defined inter-im ­
perial relations across the g lo b e at this critical juncture. In fact, the treaty departed from
the Franco-British com m itm ent to adhere to the “status antebellum ” o f im perial dom ains
in the eastern and w estern hem ispheres, a principle established during the early d iscu s­
sions h eld in London in 1801. T he treaty provided gu idelin es for settling the boundaries
in South A m erica separating the French and Portuguese co lo n ies in Guyana. A rticles
w ere d evoted to resolvin g disputes over shipping and tariffs w ith respect to the Cape
o f G ood H ope and to apportioning rights to the fisheries o f f the shores o f N ew fo u n d ­
land and w ithin the St. Law rence River. Entire regions o f the non-European w orld w ere
‘sw app ed ’ betw een European states: in the Caribbean, Trinidad (along w ith M artinique)
w as ceded to Great Britain, w h ile France retained Tobago. France and its ally the Bata­
vian R epublic officially ceded control over C eylon to Great Britain, w h ile France w as
prom ised the port o f Pondicherry on the subcontinent.92 The agreem ent conclud ed w ith

91 For the complete text, see Treaty of Amiens (March 25, 1802) http://www.napoleon-empire.
com/official-texts/treaty-of-amiens.php. (accessed December 19, 2018).
92 B. Smith, ‘Diplomacy and its Forms of Knowledge’, 220. For Napoleon’s efforts to return to
the Indian Ocean, A. Das, Defending British India against Napoleon: The Foreign Policy of
Governor-General Lord Minto, 1807-13 (Woodbridge 2016), 31-33.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D TH E SU B LIM E PORTE 381

a staggered tim efram e for the parties to com p ly w ith these Continental, Mediterranean,
and colonial re-assignm ents in A sia and the A m ericas.
In effect, the Treaty o f A m ien s represented a pause in Franco-British com petition
in order to secure com m on imperial interests. F orem ost am ong them w as m aintaining
slavery and the plantation system o f production in the A m ericas. Throughout the de­
liberations in A m ien s, the French d elegation received updates on m ilitary operations in
Saint-D om ingue.93 Several m onths after the con clu sion o f the negotiations, the C onsul­
ate re-authorized the trade in human b eings b etw een W est A frica and the Caribbean.94
The 14-month truce provided an important w in d o w o f m ilitary forbearance that allow ed
the R epublic to dedicate its forces to a cam paign o f repression in S aint-D om ingue and
G uadeloupe. For the French, im posing slavery in these islands, particularly Saint-
D om ingue, w as also an essential step toward realizing a new imperial project involvin g
Spanish retrocession o f m uch o f the N orth Am erican continent. A nn exing ‘L ouisiana’
w ould provide land for the establishm ent o f new settler-colonies; it w ould furnish a tem ­
perate hinterland to grow cereals and other staple food crops; its forests provided timber
for shipbuilding, housin g, and industrial supplies. With S aint-D om ingue as its industrial
engine, the com bination o f these n ew territories w ould restore F rance’s im perial power,
becom ing in the w ords o f a m em ber o f the British Parliament w h o v ie w e d the expedition
toward the A n tilles w ith great trepidation, a “C olossu s [with], on e foot in the m outh o f
the M ississipp i and the other in the m outh o f the A m azon .”95
M onths before the sign in g o f the A m ien s Treaty, Ottoman Grand V izier Y usu f Ziya
Pasha and Secretary o f State M ahm ud R a if Efendi learned that ‘Louisiana’ w as another
factor contributing to Paris’s eagerness to put the E gypt affair behind them.96 D esp ite the
lack o f forthrightness by French diplom ats in their negotiations w ith the Sublim e Porte,
the Ottoman court and its diplom ats pursued a course based on their ow n version o f Re-
alpolitik and an understanding o f the inter-hem ispheric co-ordinates o f pow er.97 Their
w illingn ess to entertain a n ew alliance w ith France w as ow in g not on ly to the uncertainties
o f their relationship w ith R ussia after Tsar Paul Ts death in 1 8 0 1.98 It reflected grow ing
concerns about Great Britain’s merits as an ally in the M editerranean and beyond. Brit­
ain ’s overw helm ing naval superiority and their im perious treatment o f their allies dur­

93 Nineteenth-century historians do not neglect the Caribbean, including Marie Joseph L. Adolphe
Thiers, The History o f the Consulate and Empire o f Napoleon, Vol. 1 (London 1850), 334. By
contrast, J. D. Grainger, The Amiens Truce: Britain and Bonaparte, 1801-1803 (Woodbridge
2004), 55-56) pays almost no attention to Saint-Domingue.
94 Y. Benoit and M. Dorigny (eds), Rétablissement de l ’esclavage dans les colonies françaises:
1802 (Paris 2003).
95 Hansard’s Parliamentary Debates, 343.
96 BOA HAT 1491 (15/M /1216 [28 May 1801]). The Ottomans were informed that France had
exchanged Tuscany for Louisiana.
97 Sariyannis, Ottoman Political Thought, 407, esp. n. 52. One might trace this position to
Ahmed Resmi Efendi; see also V. H. Aksan, An Ottoman Statesman in War and Peace: Ahmed
Resmi Efendi, 1700-1783 (Leiden 1995).
98 Naff, ‘Ottoman Diplomacy’, 411.
382 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

ing joint cam paigns gave reason to fear L ondon’s unchecked ascendance. The East India
C om pany had w asted no tim e in using the conflagration in the W est to annex the M uslim
kingdom o f M ysore, w h ose ruler Tipu Sultan had been, i f nom inally, a Sunni ally o f
the Ottoman Sultan-Caliph. Indeed, Tipu Sultan had warned them that Great Britain w as
p oised to dominate India." A fter elim inating the French from Egypt, the British navy had
begun reconnaissance in the G u lf and Red S ea.99100 M ost importantly for Istanbul w as the
reality that not only did the British navy remain in M alta but London seem ed in no rush to
withdraw its 3,500 troops from Egypt. Their diplom ats argued for a permanent presence
in Egypt and for the rehabilitation o f the surviving N eo-M am lu k lords.101
Judged from the larger, inter-hemispheric ‘balance o f pow er’, Ottoman statesmen
understood, despite their m isgivin gs about France, that Bonaparte’s over-extended m ili­
tary forces posed no im mediate threat to the Em pire’s territories in the M iddle East or
Balkans.102 W hatever the outcom e o f its engagem ents in the Atlantic, France remained a
counterweight to Austria and R ussia on the Continent and a com m ercial check to British
naval ascendency in the Mediterranean. I f the negotiations with France dragged on and
yielded no reparations for their aggression, the n ew Franco-Ottoman alliance signed on
25 June 1802 by Foreign M inister Charles M aurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, and the spe­
cial Ottoman plenipotentiary, S eyyid M ehm et Said Galip Efendi, m ust not be considered a
pure capitulation on the part o f Sultan Selim III.103 M any o f the clauses that might, at first
glance, appear to be over-generous con cession s to French demands served a dual purpose:
as geopolitical and econom ic insurance against the encroachm ent o f other European states
that remained French rivals. Thus, allow ing France access to the Em pire’s B lack Sea offset
the expanding networks o f erstwhile allies like Tsarist Russia; equalizing tariffs for French
merchants in Ottoman lands put them on an equal footing w ith British com panies. With war
clouds gathering on the horizon, French assurances to respect Ottoman territorial integrity
and, by m eans o f a secret article, to exem pt the Sublim e Porte from participating in the wars
that w ould certainly follow , protected the m ost vital o f the Ottoman Em pire’s geopolitical
interests. This analysis w as borne out: the last British battalion did not leave Alexandria
until 11 March 1803, practically on the eve o f the resumption o f hostilities with France.

Epilogue as conclusion: the global intellectual legacies o f a failed revolution

In the spring o f 1803, as Toussaint Louverture lay d yin g in Fort de Joux prison, the n ew
O ttom an A m bassador and his entourage traveled toward France. T hey entered French

99 K. H. Karpat, The Politicization of Islam: Reconstructing Identity, State, Faith, and Commu­
nity in the Late Ottoman State (Oxford 2001), 50-51.
100 Ingram, ‘First British Expedition’.
101 S. Güner, ‘Londra’da Bir Memlûk Beyi: Muhammed Bey Elfî (Ekim-Arahk 1803)’, Akademik
Baku}, 9 (2015), 41-69.
102 BOA HAT 5968 (12/M /1217 [15 May 1802]). Intelligence confirmed France’s military con­
undrum: Bonaparte could not conduct concurrent operations in the Caribbean and the Medi­
terranean.
103 For the relevant articles in the treaty, see Naff, ‘Ottoman Diplomacy’, 430-439.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B L IM E PORTE 383

territories in m id-sum m er after three m onths o f travel. A s he later w rote in his m em oirs,
A m bassador M ehm et Said H alet Efendi (1 7 6 1 -1 8 2 2 ) found m any aspects o f his sojourn
in France d istressing.104 T he A m bassad or’s arrival coin cid ed w ith considerable political
upheaval, plots, and intrigue in Paris. H e faced situations that proved profoundly embar­
rassing for a m an o f his station. For exam ple, the beautiful Arabian stallions that he had
planned to offer as gifts to the First C onsul and other dignitaries arrived late and in ter­
rible condition, em aciated to the point o f b eing m ere skin and b ones. A s for the upkeep
o f his ow n household, contrary to long-standing O ttom an practice, foreign em b assies to
France w ere exp ected to pay their ow n way. With his stipend from Istanbul d elayed, the
A m bassador w as forced to borrow m on ey from the Papal N u n cio to m aintain h im self
and his household.
Infuriating, too, w ere the double standards o f the French press: w h ile the C onsulate’s
censors prevented m ention o f French reversals in Saint-D om ingue, the pages o f new spa­
pers like the Le Moniteur Universel w ere filled w ith sensational tales about the political
anarchy in Ottom an lands w hich were based on reports by travelers and em issaries, includ­
ing Horace François Bastien Sébastiani de La Porta. A t tim es, the coverage o f events in the
Balkans in the pages o f Le Publiciste and Le Débat w as so op en ly hostile to the Empire
that Halet Efendi felt ob liged to lodge an official protest w ith Talleyrand.105 M od em read­
ers m ay dism iss the litany o f com plaints in his m em oir as the railings o f a man w h o sim ply
found an alien culture opaque and often vulgar. B ut a m ore balanced reading o f his text
m ust take into account what is not written: that he, lik e m any Ottoman officials, w as aware
o f the larger scope o f imperial am bitions throughout the world, the propagandistic nature
o f the public spectacles that w ere part o f the regim e’s appeal for popular support, and the
routine double-dealing that had b ecom e the hallmark o f the Bonapartist regim e.
O ne anecdote in H alet E fen d i’s m em oir is particularly revealing about the French
political e lite ’s con d escen sion toward their M u slim ally and their patronising attitude
toward the intellectual form ation o f O ttom an o ffic ia ls.106 That incident took p lace dur­
ing a rare face-to-face m eetin g betw een the A m bassador and the First C onsul. Entering
the salon w here the audience w as to take place, Bonaparte im m ediately dem anded that
A lexander and Petraki Efendi, the O ttom an translators, leave the room . In ju stify in g his
dism issal o f the Phanariot officials, the First C onsul professed a distrust o f “Greeks”,
w hom , he insisted, “w ere all in the pay o f R ussia” .107 Instead o f conducting the interview
in the custom ary G reek or French, he ch o se A rabic. In his harangue, Bonaparte argued
that the A m bassador m ust im press upon his superiors that on ly France cou ld protect
Ottoman lands from Tsarist R u ssia ’s g row in g p o w er on land and in the B lack Sea and

104 E. Z. Karal, Halet Efendinin Pari 's büyük elçilgi: 1802-1806 (Istanbul 1940). Also on the con­
ditions for Ottoman ambassadors, see S. Yerasimos, Deux ottomans à Paris sous le directoire
et l ’empire: Relations d ’ambassade Morali Seyyid Ali Efendi et Seyyid Abdürrahim Muhibb
Efendi (Paris 1998).
105 Karal, Halet Efendi, 38-39.
106 Ibid., 46-47.
107 Ibid., 59. Bonaparte refers to the Ottoman translator Pangiotis Codrika. However, he colluded
with France, not Russia. Aksan, An Empire Besieged, 228.
384 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

Mediterranean. W hen H alet Efendi failed to respond, he took the A m bassad or’s silence
to be evidence o f ignorance rather than an exp ression o f polite restraint. In exasperation
Bonaparte snapped: “D o n ’t your m en ever look at m aps?” 108
Like m ost Frenchm en o f the day, Bonaparte’s remarks reveal h o w little h is regim e
knew about Ottom an political thought and policy, and still less o f the fact that the Sub­
lim e Porte kept track o f E urope’s global am bitions. W hether through their ow n en voys
and sta ff in Europe or via com m unications w ith allies, diplom ats and vassal states from
R agusa to M ysore, the Sublim e Porte w as w ell inform ed about French n egotiations and
m ilitary adventures w ithin the Continent, in the Indian O cean, and across the Atlantic.
Like m any o f his colleagu es, H alet Efendi w ou ld have had the opportunity to study the
tw o d ozen w orld m aps to be found in the Cedid atlas tercümesi in preparation for pub­
lication.109 The strategic position o f S aint-D om ingue w ithin the Caribbean Sea (Karib
denizi) w as clearly v isib le on the map o f N orth A m erica, as w ere the proxim ity o f the
islands o f the Greater A n tilles to lands on the continent designated as French ( Fransa-i
cedid) and an area labeled w ith the nam e “Louisiana” (Luwizina). It w as on the large
A ntillean island, captioned in O ttom an Turkish, “Santo D o m in g o ” (Sondominku), where
C om m ander Le C lerc, after capturing and deporting Louverture, succum bed to disease
in N ovem b er 1802. H is su ccessor, General Jean-Baptiste D ontier de Vim eur (Count de
R ochaubeau), unleashed a brutal cam paign against the black population. The arm y’s in­
discrim inate violen ce, coup led w ith the restarting o f the trafficking in human beings,
fueled a general insurrection against French rule. M ix ed race, C reole, and African-born
troops defected en masse from colonial garrisons, jo in in g the “A rm ée in digèn e”, led by
Louverture’s form er lieutenant, General Jean Jacque D essa lin es (1 7 5 8 -1 8 0 6 ).110
In fact Bonaparte’s pique, expressed in his b ullying o f the O ttom an A m bassador to
France and threats to retaliate m ilitarily i f the Sultan failed to recogn ize h is n ew title
as “Em peror o f the French” after his coronation in 1804 m ight w ell be attributed to
the hum iliation suffered as an army o f barefoot form er slaves d efeated his w ell-arm ed
European troop s.111 Tens o f thousands - som e 7 0 ,0 0 0 European forces dispatched to the
island over the eighteenth century in one estim ate - o f the French reinforcem ents sent to
the Caribbean never left.112 They died o f battlefield w oun ds and o f tropical diseases. In
M ay 1803, a few m onths before H alet E fen d i’s arrival in Paris, the last European soldiers
w ere evacuated from island. T h is defeat sp elled the lo ss o f the “pearl o f the A n tilles”,
F rance’s sin gle m ost valuable colony. A nd it dashed the plan o f annexing the vast lands
on the N orth A m erican continent. On the ev e o f a n ew war w ith Britain, the French claim

108 Karal, Halet Efendi, 61.

109 K. Beydilli, Mühendishane ve Üsküdar Matbaalarinda Basdan Kitaplarin Listesi ve Bir Ka-
tolog (istanbul 1997).
110D. Geggus, ‘The Haitian Revolution in Atlantic Perspective’, in N. Canny and Ph. Morgan
(eds) The Oxford Handbook o f the Atlantic World: 1450-1850 (Oxford 2011), 535.
111 Karal, Halet Efendi, 71-72; Ph. R. Girard, The Slaves Who Defeated Napoleon: Toussaint
Louverture and the Haitian War o f Independence, 1801-1804 (Tuscaloosa 2011), 210-212.
112 Geggus, Haitian Revolutionary Studies, 27.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B LIM E PO R TE 385

to ‘L ouisiana’ becam e a liability.113 To assuage the U nited States, w hich threaten to take
m ilitary action i f France occupied the port o f N e w Orleans, Paris publicly affirm ed the
1801 Franco-Spanish Treaty o f Idelfonso. W ithin a m onth, on 2 0 D ecem ber 1803, it
ceded title to these lands to the United States President. With a stroke o f the pen, this
transfer doubled the territorial size o f the n ew A m erican republic.
A s for the resum ption o f war, it has been generally attributed to clear violation s o f the
terms o f the Treat o f A m ien s on the C ontinent and in the M editerranean. F ran ce’s m ili­
tary incursion in Switzerland, and Great Britain’s refusal to evacuate M alta have been
presum ed to be the casus belli that re-opened the war betw een th ese states. H ow ever, a
m ore plausible explanation is F rance’s failure to re-im pose slavery in S aint-D om ingue
by force o f arms. The defeat o f the French in H ispan iola by a rebel army v o id ed the pri­
mary reason for an inter-imperial interm ission, the so -ca lled “Treaty o f A m ie n s.”
In H ispaniola, at the outset o f 1804, a liberated population declared H aiti’s inde­
pendence. The devastation and death caused by the France’s scorched earth cam paign
left entire cities in ashes and reduced the c o lo n y ’s population by half. B ut this w as no
Pyrrhic victory: the defeat o f the French army narrowly averted the g en erals’ plan to
carry out a gen ocid e o f the island ’s adult population o f A frican d escen t." 415A m o n g the
defenders, m any o f w hom had em braced the R evolu tion and risked their liv es to defend
Saint-D om ingue against other European em pires, the sense o f anger and bitterness was
palpable. The declaration o f independence, drafted by L ouis F élix Boix-T onnerre (1776-
1806) on b eh alf o f General D essa lin es, denounced the R evolu tion its e lf as a grand d ecep­
tion. The text indicted th em selv es for b ein g “ [...] victim s for 14 years o f our credulity and
indulgence; vanquished, not by French arm ies, but by the m islead in g eloq u en ce o f their
agen ts’ proclam ations [...]”. us
In Istanbul itself, few i f any o f the O ttom an im perial elite w o u ld have m ourned the
R evolu tion ’s dem ise, m uch less expressed such profound d isillusionm en t w ith the m is­
carriage o f p rofessed principles o f dem ocratic governance and individual righ ts.116 N e v ­
ertheless, reform ers m ight have concurred that the R ev o lu tio n ’s detours had also cost
the Ottoman Em pire dearly. France’s p ivot from the d efen se o f the R epublic to imperial
aggression in the A driatic, Egypt, and Syria sign ifican tly underm ined the N iza m -i Ce-
d id ’s program to transform the Em pire’s institutions. M ounting a d efen se o f Ottoman
territories strained state finances and tested the as y et unready n ew m ilitary force. The
overthrow o f the Sultan S elim III in 1807 by a rebellion led by K abakçi M u stafa and the

113 R. L. Bush, Louisiana Purchase: A Global Perspective (London 2013), 10; Dubois, ‘Thomas
Jefferson’s (Unpaid) Debt’.
114 Ph. R. Girard, ‘Caribbean Genocide: Racial War in Haiti, 1802-4’, Patterns o f Prejudice, 39
(2005), 138-161.
115 See Julia Gaffield, ‘Haiti and the Atlantic World: “1804 Declaration of Independence’” ,
https://haitidoi.com/doi/ (accessed November 9, 2018)
116 Compare §. Mardin, ‘The Influence of the French Revolution on the Ottoman Empire’, Inter­
national Social Science Journal, 44 (1989), 17-32; R. Koselleck in The Practice o f Conceptu­
al History: Timing History Spacing Concepts (Stanford 2002), 128, recognizes the peculiarly
prescriptive nature of Enlightenment discourse.
386 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

old guard (the Janissaries alon g w ith their sym pathizers in the state and religious cadres,
as w ell as others affected by the fiscal reform s) put an end to m any o f the projects that the
reformers had initiated. B efore the pow erful provincial ayan from R um elia and Anatolia
intervened in the capital and secured the throne for Sultan M ahm ud II in 1808, the rebel­
lion had already taken the liv es o f m any o f the m ost dedicated advocates o f change, the
polym ath M ahm ud R a if Efendi am ong th em .117
Other officials, w h o se support for the reforms had been only tepid or w h o were sim ply
fortunate enough to be far from Istanbul at the tim e o f the coup d ’état were sent into exile
or re-assigned to distant posts. One o f the survivors w as the former Am bassador to France,
Halet Efendi. Rehabilitated in 1809, he w ould b ecom e one o f the n ew Sultan’s closest
advisors. Under his guidance, the Ottoman Empire ended their diplom atic engagem ent on
European soil, shuttering their em bassies in Vienna, London, and Paris. Instead, the regim e
set its sights on consolidating pow er w ithin the Empire by repressing the serbest provincial
lords w ho threatened central state authority. This alternative ‘n ew order’ began w ith the
repression o f the sem i-autonom ous Ottoman cities along the Iranian border and continued
w ith cam paigns against the great ayan in areas o f northern Syria and the Balkans.
It required another generation for the Sublim e Porte to re-appoint a cadre o f resident
diplom ats to European capitals. In the aftermath o f the first su ccessfu l Ottom an revo­
lution in the G reek M orea (1 8 2 1 -1 8 3 0 ), a n ew Ottoman diplom atic corps w as form ed
and by the secon d h a lf o f the nineteenth century, Istanbul established diplom atic and
com m ercial ties w ith states in N orth and South A m erica, as w ell as op ening its first
consulates in South A sia , in B om b ay and C alcutta.118 A lthough the R epublic o f Haiti
w as not included am ong these later diplom atic contacts, the intersecting paths betw een
w hat m ight otherw ise appear to be tw o very distinct p o lities located at extrem e points
on the w orld map at the outset o f the m od em age w as neither serendipitous nor episodic.
Events in the Caribbean and the Eastern M editerranean during the so-called War o f the
S econd C oalition ex e m p lify an inter-hem ispheric con vergen ce b o m o f four centuries
o f global econ om ic integration. T he eighteenth century w itnessed an escalation in the
A tlantic trafficking in hum an b ein gs toward the A m ericas and flow s o f agricultural com ­
m odities toward Europe and beyond. In general, under the N e w Im perialism , European
em pires com peted w ith one another for n ew outlets for their products and raw materials,
to control oceanic and continental w aterw ays and overland com m unications, as w ell as
to dom inate trading ports and territories in A sia and the A m ericas. But there w ere specific
conjunctures, such as the turn o f the nineteenth century, w h en threats to the perpetuation
o f a system o f exploitation o f non-European p eop les and lands resulted in the temporary
cessation o f inter-imperial con tests and collaboration b etw een otherw ise rival states.

117 On the causes of the overthrown of Selim III, see Yildiz, Crisis and Rebellion, esp. Chap. 3.
118 See M. N. Kutlu, Ç. Atakan, E. Yurtaydm, Ô. Kaygusuz, N. Çicek, G. Erdem (eds), Osmanli
imparatorlugu - Latin Amerika (Baçlangiç Dônemi) (Ankara 2012). For Ottoman diplomatic
sources for both Western and non-Western states, see E. Yurdusev, ‘Studying Ottoman Diplo­
macy: A Review of the Sources’ in A. N. Yurdusev (ed.), Ottoman Diplomacy Conventional
or Unconventional? (London 2004), 167-193.
 B ET W E EN SA IN T -D O M IN G U E A N D T H E SU B LIM E PO RTE 387

In revealing a hitherto unappreciated dim ension in this critical juncture, HAT 14127
ascribes both practical and intellectual agen cy to those w h o se transform ative struggles
and engagem ents affected the outcom es o f w ar and peace in both hem ispheres. In addi­
tion to the m any w ell-d ocu m ented geop olitical con sequ en ces o f the su ccess o f the Hai­
tian R evolution - from F rance’s hasty sale o f the ‘Louisiana Purchase’ to the United
States and the launching o f what D ale Tom ich has nam ed the “secondary slavery”,119
the rapid extension o f the plantation system o f com m odity production throughout the
Caribbean and the Indian O cean - historians m ust also contem plate its ram ifications for
A frica and A sia. Indeed, i f Toussaint Louverture’s governm ent initially p rovided France
w ith a solid platform to launch its eastern hem ispheric imperial adventure, it w as also
the resistance o f S aint-D om in gue’s population to the resum ption o f the sla v e trade and
withdrawal o f their m ost b asic human rights that all but assured France’s expeditious
departure from Egypt and desire to enter into a n ew alliance w ith the Ottoman Empire.
So, too, re-centering this period o f the so-called War o f the Second C oalition in the
Caribbean rather than in Western Europe (or the M editerranean) should also help us better
understand the contervailing intellectual currents that anticipated and fo llo w ed the French
R evolution. On the one hand, the legacy o f liberation and struggles for freedom that would
be refracted in the dialect o f H e g el’s Phenomenology o f Spirit had already been articulated
forcefully and consistently, in a century o f hopes, ideas, and resistance o f the m illions
o f m en and w om en w h o languished in the fetters o f colonialism , grueling toil, and en­
slavem ent.120 On the other hand, the revolutionary m om ent, w hen the rhetoric o f human
rights w as m atched, to som e degree, by p o licy and practice inside and outside France or
in French-controlled areas o f Europe and in certain colonial settings, proved short-lived.
A decade o f em ancipatory and republican zeal on ly briefly interrupted France’s colonial
trajectory that w ould resum e w ith the expedition toward Saint-D om ingue in 1801-1803,
and again in N orth A frica w ith the invasion o f Ottom an A lgeria in 1830.121
The intellectual refrains b om o f this glob al conjuncture o f p olitical thought and prax­
is w ould be articulated by the fe w non-W estern governm ents that m anaged to escap e the
juggernaut o f later nineteenth-century European “high im perialism .” A lthough Haitian
citizen s survived the planned annihilation by Bonaparte’s arm ies, they continued to face
m ilitary threats and eco n o m ic isolation. Tw o decades after the declaration o f indepen­
dence, French gunboats extorted crippling co n cessio n s from H aiti’s governm ent. K ing
Charles X (1 7 5 7 -1 8 3 6 )’s R oyal Ordinance (1 8 2 6 ) im posed a ‘free trade’ regim e and a
150 m illion francs indem nity on the H aitian s,122 w h ich anticipated, by a h a lf century, the
financial im perialism experienced by the p eo p les o f the Ottom an Empire. N o t surpris-

119 On this phenomenon, D. W. Tomich (ed.), The Politics o f the Second Slavery (Albany 2016).
120 D. Geggus, ‘The Sounds and Echoes of Freedom: The Impact of the Haitian Revolution in
Latin America’ in D. Davis (ed.), Beyond Slavery: The Multifaceted Legacy o f Africans in
Latin America. (Lanham 2006), 19-36; J. Gaffield, Haitian Connections in the Atlantic World:
Recognition after Revolution (Chapel Hill 2015).
121 D. Todd, ‘French Imperial Meridian, 1814-1870’, Past & Present, 210 (2011), 155-186.
122 On Haiti’s debt, F. Beauvois, ‘L’indemnité de Saint-Domingue: “‘Dette d’indépendance” ou
“rançon de l’esclavage”?’, French Colonial History, 10 (2009), 109-124; compare, Turan
388 A R IEL SA L ZM A N N

ingly, in both countries, the political principle that state sovereignty trumped individual,
citizenship rights becam e a logical response to the post-revolutionary, imperial order.123
In Haiti after 1805 and in the Ottoman Em pire after 1807, from the short-lived rule o f
Emperor Jacques I (1 8 0 4 -1 8 0 6 ) to Papa D o c D uvalier in Haiti, and from Sultan M ahmud
II (r. 1 808-1838) and the regim e o f A bdulham id II (r.1878) in the O ttom an Empire to
M ustafa K em al Atatiirk’s O ne Party State and the present Justice and D evelop m en t/
Erdogan regim e in Turkey, leaders have recurrently resurrected an equally venerable
p olitical philosophy o f the R evolutionary period: Bonapartism .124
In summary, HAT 14127 a docum ent too anom alous to fit into the accepted historical
narratives and too co m p lex in its text, sub-texts, and extra-textual d im ensions to locate
in traditional intellectual historiography offers an opportunity to w id en the horizons o f
interpretation used to understand the history o f political thought. This prelim inary exam i­
nation o f m ethod ology has been dedicated to reconstructing contexts in space and tim e.
It supports the contentions o f an increasing number o f historians that past approaches
to k now ledge and k now in g have y et to fu lly appreciate the Weltanschauung o f the Ot­
tom an statesm en or the cosm op olitan and com p lex calculus inform ing the p o licies and
practices o f the B lack Jacobins o f the Caribbean.125 It su ggests, m oreover, that despite
the lim ited survival o f w ritten artefacts o f ex p licitly philosophical content in m any con ­
texts, historians o f p olitical thought m ust adopt alternative m ethod ologies to recover the
larger and often inter-connected ep istem ic landscapes that produced actors and thinkers
to supplem ent a m ore finite b ody o f written texts. A m ore dynam ic and interactive m odel
o f intellectual history m ust depart from the assum ption that m any global actors were
never confined to parochial cultural nich es, trapped by im m ediate n eeds or lim ited by
class-bound m entalities. Indeed, any attempt to reconstruct a truly global intellectual h is­
toriography m ust start out from the prem ise that to date researchers have on ly glim psed
the tip o f an iceberg o f the unrecorded cogn ition o f the w o rld ’s k now ing subjects w h ose
ideas and actions constituted the m odernity o f political k n ow ledge at large.

Kayaoglu, Legal Imperialism: Sovereignty and Extraterritoriality in Japan, the Ottoman Em­
pire, and China (Cambridge 2010).
123 As for the primacy of sovereignty as a legacy of this encounter, see M. S. Palabiyik, ‘The
Emergence of the Idea of “International Law” in the Ottoman Empire before the Treaty of
Paris (1856)’, Middle Eastern Studies, (2014), 233-251, and Ph. R. Girard, ‘Jean-Jacques Des­
salines and the Atlantic System: A Reappraisal’, The William and Mary Quarterly, 69 (2012),
549-582, and Fick, ‘Atlantic Paradigm of Sovereignty’.
124 Papa Doc Duvalier professed admiration for Atatürk: D. Nicholls, From Dessalines to Duva­
lier: Race, Colour, and National Independence in Haiti (New Brunswich 1996), 210.
125 For Ottoman history: Sariyannis, Ottoman Political Thought, 369. Aylin Koçunyan writes of
the “the rich variety of foreign channels through which new currents of political ideas flowed”
in ‘The Transcultural Dimension of the Ottoman Constitution’ in P. W. Firges, T. P. Graf, Ch.
Roth, and G. Tulasoglu (eds), The Well-Connected Domains (Leiden 2014), 236. See also I.
Khuri-Makdisi, The Eastern Mediterranean and the Making o f Global Radicalism, 1860-1914
(Berkeley 2010).
 PART FIVE

IDEAS IN PRACTICE
 LE POUVOIR DES BARBEROUSSE
À ALGER D ’APRÈS LES G A ZAVA T-IH A YRE D D ÎN PA §A

N ic o l a s V a t in *

M a co n t r ib u t io n a u débat su r la th éo r ie et la pratique du pouvoir ch ez les Otto­

mans sera m odeste. Il ne s ’agit pas pour m oi de traiter de la p h ilosoph ie politique des
grands penseurs et hom m es d ’État stam bouliotes, m ais, partant d ’un ouvrage de propa­
gande politique à l ’u sage d ’un vaste public, d ’aborder la question du pouvoir d ’un point
de vue très concret et avec des concepts sim ples.
C om m andé par Solim an le M agnifique pour contribuer à la gloire de son règne en
célébrant un de ses acteurs les plus rem arquables*1, le texte des G a z a v a t- i H a y r e d d in P a § a
raconte à des gens sim p les, dans une langue sim ple, la geste d ’un corsaire qui devint roi
et offrit son royaum e au sultan ottom an2. A ssurém ent, il faut tenir com pte d es caracté­
ristiques propres à un récit épique et de propagande. Pourtant, l ’analyse p récise de nom ­
breux ép isod es a m ontré qu’il s ’agissait d ’une source historique de qualité3. M oyennant
la prudence qui s ’im pose, on peut donc y chercher des élém en ts so lid es pour s ’interroger
sur la nature du pouvoir des Barberousse à A lger, principalem ent ju sq u ’au m om ent, en
1533, où H ayreddin rejoignit Solim an. Il s ’agira donc, dans les p ages qui suivent, non
pas de l ’A lgérie ottom ane, m ais de l ’A lgérois d es Barberousse, sur lequel on est assez
m al renseigné4. Pour des raisons de chron ologie, Oruç étant m ort a ssez tôt, c ’est princi­
palem ent de son cadet H ayreddin qu’il sera question.

* CETOBAC (CNRS, EHESS, Collège de France), EPHE, PSL, Paris.

1 Cf. N. Vatin, « “Comment êtes-vous apparus, toi et ton frère ?” Note sur les origines des frères
Barberousse », S7 Nouvelle série, I (2011), pp. 103-131 (www.studiaislamica.com) ; version
turque : « “Sen ve kardeçin nasil ortaya çiktimz?” Barbares kardeçlerinin kôkenlerine iliçkin
notlar », dans E. Eldem, E. Pekin et A. Tibet (éds), Bir allame-i cihan : Stefanos Yerasimos
(1942-2005) (Istanbul 2012), pp. 691-716.
2 J’ai utilisé l’édition critique d’A. Gallotta, « Il Gazavat-i Hayreddin Paça di Seyyîd Murâd »,
Studi Magrebini, XIII (1981), fondée sur le fac-similé du manuscrit de l’Escorial. C’est à la
foliotation de celui-ci que je renvoie.
3 Cf. N. Vatin, « “Comment êtes-vous apparus, toi et ton frère ?” » ; idem, « Note sur l’entrée
d’Alger sous la souveraineté ottomane (1519-1521) », Turcica, 44 (2012-2013), pp. 131-166.
4 Les descriptions dont on dispose sont antérieures, comme celle de Léon l’Africain, ou posté­
rieures comme celles de Marmol ou Haëdo, en sorte que les Gazavat demeurent notre meil­
leure source.
392 N IC O LA S VATIN

Les références sociales et politiques du public v isé par le texte étant ottom anes, je
vais donc essayer de comparer, à un idéal ottom an sous-entendu, les réalités concrètes
que la chronique donne égalem en t à voir, en m ’interrogeant sur la légitim ité du pouvoir
des Barberousse avant d ’aborder l ’action p olitique5.

* * *

Les frères Barberousse sont rois d ’Alger. Le fait n ’est jam ais clairem ent ex p o sé dans
les Gazavat, com p osées sur l ’ordre du sultan d ’Istanbul à la gloire de son beylerbeyi des
îles, m ais il apparaît à l’usage des titres usuels qui leur sont attribués, lesqu els changent
selon la situation et l ’époque. A in si, dans l’introduction qui se situe au m om ent de la
rédaction, dans les années 1540, Hayreddin porte le titre de pacha (3 v°). M ais dès que
le récit proprem ent dit com m en ce (4 v°), il est question d ’Oruç R eis et de H izir er-reis.
Peut-être l’em ploi de l ’article arabe pour le cadet sign ifie-t-il q u ’il faut voir là une sorte
d ’épithète hom érique - H izir Hayreddin étant appelé à d evenir le Marin par ex c ellen ce -
car ce n ’est qu’une fo is arrivé à Tunis, quand il ce sse d ’être un obscur capitaine de m a­
rine m archande pour entamer sans am biguïté une noble carrière de corsaire de la foi,
que notre héros porte désorm ais le titre de reis et est d ésig n é par son lâkab de Hayred­
din (25 v°). Oruç de son côté porte le titre de bey après l ’éch ec du secon d siè g e de B o u ­
gie, au m om ent où il s ’installe à dem eure dans le port de D jidjelli (4 7 r°) dont il s ’était
pour son com pte em paré par les armes (44 r°) : il est clair que le titre ici fait de lui non
pas l ’officier du sultan de Tunis - et m oins encore de celu i d ’Istanbul - , m ais un poten­
tat indépendant. C e n ’est qu’un peu plus tard, quand Oruç désorm ais maître d ’A lg er - sa
capitale6 - lui con fié une m oitié du pays avec D elly s co m m e ch ef-lieu , que Hayreddin
à son tour devient bey (61 r°)7. Il est à dire vrai encore subordonné à son frère, qui peut
lui dem ander des renforts et le convoquer pour exercer un intérim à A lg er (62 r°). M ais

5 En somme, il s’agit de revenir, en entrant plus avant dans le détail, sur les trois « points faibles »
diagnostiqués par S. Boubaker, « Il Maghreb in età modema », dans Roberto Bizzocchi (éd.)
Storia d ’Europa e del Mediterraneo V. L ’eta modema (secoli XVI-XVIII), t. XII, Popoli, sta-
ti, equilibri delpotere (Rome 2013), p. 649-698 (p. 659) : « Questi corsari avevano tre punte
deboli : l’assenza di legittimità, la fragilité delle loro alleanze e la paura che ispiravano ai po-
teri locali. Hayreddin se ne rese conto osservando quanto accalde ad Arrouj nel 1518 : dovette
abbandonare Algeri. » On trouvera des questions similaires dans deux articles qui traitent des
rapports entre « Turcs » ou « Turco-ottomans » et autochtones sur la longue durée. Pour S. Hiz-
metli, « Türklerin yônetimi dôneminde Cezayir’in idaresi ve kurumlari », Belleten, LVIII/221
(1994), pp. 71-117, ce fut au Maghreb médian un « âge d’or », grâce à l’adoption d’institutions
inspirées de l’exemple ottoman et aux bonnes relations entre la population et des administra­
teurs turcs bienveillants et respectueux des coutumes des tribus. Le point de vue de B. Lahouel,
« Rapports entre les gouvernants et les gouvernés autochtones dans l’Etat algérien à l’époque
ottomane », Revue d'Histoire Maghrébine, XIX/65-66 (1992), pp. 41-49, est plus nuancé : les
« Turco-ottomans » surent jouer à la fois de la coopération et de la répression, et diviser pour
régner.
6 Taht (53 v°).
7 Dans le manuscrit de Vienne étudié par R. Murphey, « Seyyid Muradî’s prose biography of
Hizir Ibn Yakub, alias Hayreddin Barbarossa », ActOrHung, 54 (2001), pp. 519-532, n. 11, ce
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B ER O U SSE 393

c ’est sous la form e courtoise d ’une « lettre » {name) et non d ’un ordre : le v ice-roi est un
roi potentiel. Il le devient à la mort d ’Oruç et nous verrons ses com pagnons turcs l ’appe­
ler hüsrevümüz (110 r°). C ’est en souverain que, reprenant p o ssessio n d ’A lg er quelques
années plus tard, il reçoit sous form e de baisem ain l ’acte d ’ob éd ien ce des notables de
toutes con d itions8. A u m om ent où nous nous situons, les conquêtes m aghrébines des Bar-
berousse sont déjà entrées dans l ’orbite ottom ane et Hayreddin - dans la chronique en
tout cas - affiche sa qualité de kul de Solim an. N éan m oin s, à s ’en tenir aux sim p les faits,
l ’influence de la dynastie ottom ane se borne alors à faire dire la hutbe et battre la m onnaie
au nom de Solim an : vassal du sultan, H ayreddin peut donc dem eurer un roi9. D ans une
vision bien ottom ane des ch oses, l ’auteur des Gazavat présente com m e une prom otion
l ’accession au rang de beylerbeyi des île s - après tout du reste, si l ’on jo u e sur les m ots,
un bey des b eys est plus q u ’un b ey - et à partir de l ’expédition de Corfou, le manuscrit
de l ’Escurial n ’appelle plus son héros que H ayreddin Pacha. C ela n ’allait pourtant pas
de soi, puisque d ’autres m anuscrits lui conservent le titre de bey que, dans le contexte,
il faut donc sans doute considérer com m e plus prestigieux. A u demeurant, le texte des
Gazavat précise clairem ent que, en partant pour Istanbul à l ’appel de Solim an en 1533,
Hayreddin « renonça à la couronne et au trône » 10. La situation pourtant n ’était pas sans
am biguïté, puisque le Sultan ne d ésignait pas un nouveau bey d ’A lger, m ais laissait le
soin de trouver un lieutenant capable à Hayreddin, qui ch oisit un de ses e s c la v e s11. A jou­
tons enfin qu’à la mort de ce dernier, la p ossib ilité d ’une su ccessio n héréditaire ne fut pas
absolum ent rejetée12.
Si Hayreddin, donc, était roi d ’A lger, q uelle légitim ité fondait cette p osition ?
Il n ’est pas étonnant, vu le con texte de la rédaction des Gazavat, que la première
source de légitim ité évoq u ée soit le rattachem ent à la dynastie ottom ane. D ès le début de
la chronique, il nous est rappelé que tout procède de l ’aura de ce lle -c i :

Quiconque a reçu la bénédiction de la dynastie d’Osman, tout ce qu’il entreprend lui est aisé
assurément, car c’est une grande lignée. Quiconque reçoit d’eux une bonne bénédiction, tous
ses travaux sont faciles. Quiconque lui jette un regard de traîtrise sera rabaissé. Voilà pourquoi
Hayreddin Bey vint des pays arabes pour recevoir la bénédiction de Son Excellence le padi-

n’est pas avant le conflit avec ibn el-Kazi, bien plus tard donc, que Hayreddin reçoit le titre de
bey.
8 133 v°, 137 v°.
9 Lors d’une conversation avec les ambassadeurs de Ferdinand de Habsbourg en mai 1533, Al-
vise Gritti, le fidèle collaborateur d’ibrahim Pacha, soulignait que Hayreddin s’était à lui seul
rendu maître d’Alger et qu’il en était le propriétaire, même s’il était le serviteur du Sultan : cf.
K. N. Setton, The Papacy and the Levant, t. III (Philadelphie 1984), pp. 376-377.
10 An samimi ’l-kalbi tac ü tahtin terk edüb (214 v°).
11 212 r° ; Hasan est le kul de Hayreddin (311 r°), qui l’a fait bey et l’a laissé à sa place (211 v°).
12 Sur ce point particulier et sur la question de la nature royale de Hayreddin, cf. N. Vatin et
G. Veinstein, « Roi, pirate ou esclave ? L’image de Hayrü-d-dîn Barberousse dans le manuscrit
Supplément 1186 de la Bibliothèque Nationale de France », dans N. Clayer et E. Kaynar (éds),
Penser, agir et vivre dans l ’Empire ottoman et en Turquie. Etudes réunies pour François Geor-
geon (Paris-Louvain 2012), pp. 233-259.
394 N IC O L A S VATIN

chah refuge du monde. Il vint, reçut sa bénédiction, et vois comment peu de temps après il fut
gratifié de la charge de beylerbeyil3.

A ussi les conquêtes accom plies par les Barberousse alors q u ’ils étaient en rupture de
ban n ’en son t-elles pas m oins rétroactivem ent a sso ciées à la Porte : « Ils sont venus et
ont pris à ferm e le haraç pour le fortuné padichah », s ’écrient les m écréants en les voyant
à A lg er14. Hayreddin lu i-m êm e, au m om ent où il en v isa g e de faire acte de sou m ission et
donc avant de l’avoir fait, dit aux A lgérois : « J’ai un maître dont je suis l’hum ble kul et
qui a des centaines de m illiers de kul com m e m oi. M on souhait, tant que je suis dans ce
pays, est de faire faire le prône et la m onnaie au nom sacré du padichah refuge du m onde
qui est ce m ien m aître15. » Il ne s ’agit pas seulem ent de décider, par un ch oix politique, de
devenir le vassal de la Porte : Hayreddin a toujours été le kul du sultan d ’Istanbul et, en
conséquence, ses conquêtes étaient par nature ottom anes. A ssertion évidem m ent con tes­
table puisque, ju sq u ’ici, il n ’a pas éprouvé le b esoin de faire valoir ce lien (d ’ailleurs
rompu) avec Selim Ier. C ’est du reste confirm é par les propos q u ’il tient juste après, quand
ses deux lieutenants ont accepté sa proposition : « Quant à m oi, je m ’en vais présenter m a
propre situation à la porte de m on maître : peut-être acceptera-t-il son escla v e que je suis
parmi ses kul et voudra-t-il bien [qu’on fasse en son nom ] le prône et la m on n aie16 ? »
La question n ’est nullem ent rhétorique et, de fait, S elim se montrera très hésitant17, ce
que ne nous dit pas la chronique. En revanche, la réponse q u ’elle prête à Selim montre
bien que c ’est de m anière rétroactive que celu i-ci en d o sse l ’action p assée de Hayreddin
(et donc d ’Oruç), proclamant ainsi, légalem en t et sym boliqu em en t, que les Barberousse
ont agi pour son com pte : « Puisque cette personne était auparavant m on kul fils de m on
kul, j ’avalise tout ce q u ’il a fait. Q u ’il fasse faire en m on nom im m aculé le prône et la
m onnaie de ce p a y s18. »

On nous montre donc régulièrem ent les populations con q u ises, heureuses de la paix
et de la prospérité retrouvées, prier pour le sultan d ’Istanbul19. V is-à-vis de ses propres
vassaux, Hayreddin n ’hésite pas à forcer le trait, co m m e dans sa lettre à A bdallah de

13 Her kim al-i Osmandan dua ala lâ-büd amn tutdugi kolay gelir zira kim bunlar ulu ocakdur
her kim bunlardan ... bir hayir dua ala her kâri asan olur her kim bunlara kec nazar ede amn
ba.p açagi olur ve Hayreddin Beg dahi diyar-i Arabdan ol sebebden geldi kim padi^ah-i âlem-
penah hazretlerinden bir hayir dua ala gelüb aldi yine az zaman geçmedin gôr kim beylerbeyi-
lik verildi (21 r°-v°).
14 Varub devletlü padiçaha harac iltizam edüb (53 r°).
15 Benim bir efendim vardur kim ben amn bir edna kultyim amn benim bigi bir nice kereyüz bin
kuli vardir imdi benim muradim oldur kim bu vilâyetde oldugum takdirce hutbe ’i ve sikke 7 ol
efendim olan padiçah-i âlempenah hazretierinin nam-i çeriflerine dôndürem (85 r°).
16 Ben dahi kendi ahvalimi efendim kapisma i ‘lâm edeyin ola kim yine bu bendesin kulluguna
kabul kilub hutbe 7 ve sikke 7 isteyeler (85 v°).
17 Cf. Vatin, « Note sur l’entrée d’Alger ».
18 Çün kim ol kimesne benim ewelden kulum ogh kulumdur imdi ben amn her kârmi kabul eyle-
dim ol vilâyetün hutbesin ve sikkesin benim nam-i pakime dôndürsün (86 r°).
19 73 r°, 88 v°, 100v°-101 r°, 141 r°, 146 r°, 188 v°, 237 r°...
 LE PO U V O IR DES B A R B E R O U SSE 395

T lem cen :

Si je peux me montrer patient pour d’autres choses, pour ce qui est du changement de la hutbe
et de la monnaie, je n’ai ni patience ni repos (...) Eh bien fais-moi donc la grâce d’abandonner
ta rébellion : ne nous force pas à aller jusqu’à toi en nous faisant du tort. Désormais, tu sais
ce qui en est avant que je n’arrive sur place par la grâce de Dieu : la suite des événements est
claire. À présent, si tu modifies la hutbe et la monnaie au nom de Son Excellence le padichah,
est-ce qu’Elle te laissera - que crois-tu ? - ainsi ? Allons, ouvre les yeux : change d’avis pour
sauver ta tête20 !

Il s ’agit d ’une ex ig en ce m orale, inséparable de la loyauté et du refus de la com pro­

m ission avec les m écréants espagn ols. M ais en récom pense, tout succès est à mettre
au com pte du kut im périal, com m e Hayreddin l ’indique à des prisonniers espagnols :
« Seigneurs, nous avions form é l ’intention de rejoindre la fam ille d ’Osman. Or v o y ez
com bien, sans m êm e bouger le m oins du m onde de notre sièg e, nous avons fait de butin.
D éd uisez-en com bien Son E x cellen ce le padichah refuge du m onde est un padichah for­
tuné, par la grâce de D ieu 21. » On com prend dès lors l ’inquiétude du sultan hafside de
Tunis :

À présent, Hayreddin a fait faire le prône et la monnaie au nom du fortuné padichah par toute
la population du pays d’Alger. Désormais il gagne progressivement en puissance et provoque
de graves nuisances. Il ne cesse de nuire de toutes les manières, à vous comme à nous. Au­
paravant, alors qu’il n’avait aucun pouvoir, nous avons marché contre lui, sans résultat. Main­
tenant qu’il dispose d’un soutien comme le padichah de Roum, nous n’obtiendrons plus rien
contre lui22.

En som m e, considérant la situation par le petit bout ég o ïste de sa lorgnette, le Hafside

apporte son eau au m oulin d ’A ndrew H ess selon qui les Ottom ans purent s ’im planter au
M aghreb grâce à leur légitim ité im périale23.
Pourtant, une fois la part faite au discours o b lig é d ’un texte de propagande politique,
la force du rattachem ent à la dynastie, m êm e à la lecture des Gazavat, paraît m oin s déter­

20 Benim gayre sabrim oldugu takdirce hutba ve sikke istibdaline sabrim ve kararim yokdur (...)
imdi lütf eyleyine ol isyani terk eyle ve bizi dahi rencide edüb anda iletme imdi bi-avni llahi biz
anda vanncak hod ahval ma ‘lûmdur ve nice olacagi bellidir haliyen kim padiçah Hazretleri-
nin hutbesin ve sikkesin tebdil edesin hiç seni ne anlarsin eyle koyalar mi imdi gôzün aç akhm
badina degfir (141 v°-142 v°).
21 Begler Âl-i Osmana gitmek niyet eyledik henü[z] dahi yerimizden kimildamadan gôrün kim
nice ganimet eyledik andan bilin kim padi$ah-i âlempenah Hazretleri nice ogurlu padiçahdir
elhamdülillah (223 r°).
22 Haliyen Hayreddin cümle Cezair halkina hutbe ’i ve sikke 'i devletlü padiçah adina dôndürtdi
imdi gitdikce ulalub hayli fesad koparmakdadur ve sizi bizi bi ’l-cümle rencide etmekden hâli
degildir pes bundan ewel hiç nesneye kadir degilken üzerine vardik nesne hâsil etmedik hâliyâ
[sic] Rum padiçahi bigi arkasi ola min-ba ‘d biz andan nesne hâsil etmeziz (89 r°).
23 « More than the conquest of new territories, what drew the Ottomans into North Africa was
their imperial legitimacy » : A. Hess, The Forgotten Frontier. A History o f the Sixteenth Cen­
tury lbero-African Frontier (Chicago-Londres 2010 [2e éd.]), p. 69.
396 N IC O LA S VATIN

minante. C e n ’est que par con ven tion qu’il est p ossib le de considérer a posteriori com m e
ottom anes les conquêtes des frères Barberousse antérieures au printemps 1521, quand
arriva à A lger l’acceptation par Solim an de la sou m ission de Hayreddin. D ans les années
précédentes, ils avaient d ’abord été sou m is au sultan de Tunis, puis avaient conquis une
indépendance assez chère à Hayreddin pour qu’il ait h ésité un an, après la mort de son
frère, avant de se tourner vers la Porte24. B ien plus, les passages évoq u és précédem m ent
qui montrent com plaisam m ent les populations locales élever des prières pour Solim an,
m êm e s ’ils se m ultiplient après la reprise d ’A lger en 1527, sont au total a ssez peu nom ­
breux. Ils interviennent surtout à l ’issu e de cam pagnes m ilitaires heureuses, com m e un
rappel de principe. Pour le reste, la Porte et le Sultan ne sont guère évoq u és et sont
com plètem ent absents, par exem p le, des considérations qui poussent Hayreddin à entre­
prendre la reconquête d ’A lger. A in si la légitim ité im périale ottom ane du p ouvoir royal
d’Oruç puis de Hayreddin Barberousse, dans la période con cernée tout au m oins, paraît
une pétition de principe bien plus qu’un élém en t concrètem ent déterminant du contrôle
des territoires et des populations.
C ’est donc ailleurs, m e sem b le-t-il, q u ’il faut chercher les fondem ents de la légitim ité
de nos héros. U ne im age inversée en est déjà donnée par les nom breux m auvais sou ve­
rains dont les turpitudes m ettent en valeur par contraste les qualités d es deux aventu­
riers turcs. Ils sont souven t lâches et, plus sou ven t q u ’à leur tour, fuient devant l ’ennem i
en abandonnant leurs v illes et leurs peuples25. Q u ’im porte, au reste, si cette conduite
s ’explique par les pratiques habituelles et les rapports de force dans le pays ! Oruç, au
contraire, tient sept m o is a ssiég és à T lem cen puis meurt en §ehid lors d ’une sortie26
- en fait en cherchant à fuir. Quant à Hayreddin a ssiég é dans A lger, ne s ’écrie-t-il pas :
« M êm e si je savais que le fort d ’A lger allait souffrir m ille fo is plus que T lem cen, je ne
vous le donnerais pas, et pas m êm e une pierre dans les dents27 ! » ? C es m auvais chefs
sont encore d issim ulés, com m e ces cheikhs n ’osant pas signer les lettres par lesqu elles
ils poussent Hayreddin à revenir à A lger28. Ils ne participent pas au cihad et em pêchent
les gazi de remplir leurs d evoirs - c ’est le cas du sultan de Tunis qui refuse la poudre
nécessaire à la prise de B o u g ie29 ou du roi de T lem cen qui « fait obstacle à nombre de nos
projets »30 - et m êm e ils se com prom ettent avec les m écréants espagn ols et leur versent
tribut31. Enfin ce sont des tyrans injustes - reproche in d issociab le de celu i de collusion
avec les m écréants32 - quand ils ne sont pas v ic ieu x et im m oraux com m e le sultan de

24 Sur cette date de 1521, cf. Vatin, « Note sur l’entrée d’Alger ».
25 Cf. les potentats de Ténès (58 v°-59 r°), de Tlemcen (63 r°, 91 v°, 100 v°, 106 r°), de Bizerte
(234 r°), sans parler de celui de Tunis.
26 67 v°.
27 Ana olan atebeden bin dahi ziyade olacagm bilsem sizlere Cezair kalesin degil divinize bir ta$
dahi vermezem (69 r°).
28 127 r°-v°.
29 45 v°.
30 Çok nesnemize mani olur (62 r°).
31 55 v°, 57 v°-58 r°, 61 v°, 62 v°, 63 v°-64 r°, 72 v°, 101 v°, 201 r°-v°...
32 62 v°-63 r°, 101 v°.
 LE PO U V O IR D E S B A R B E R O U SSE 397

Tunis, à en croire ses sujets33 : « Voilà un individu qui, bien q u ’on l’appelle croyant et
qu’il soit en apparence considéré com m e un croyant, a com m is d es actes que m êm e un
mécréant ne com m ettrait pas34. »
On l ’aura com pris : ce sont les qualités inverses qui fondent la légitim ité des Bar-
berousse. En prem ier lieu, ils sont victorieu x, ce qui est source de prospérité pour tous.
Les retours de cam pagne (en mer principalem ent, m ais aussi par exem p le à T énès) sont
l ’occasion d ’exp oser un m agnifique butin35 équitablem ent distribué, pour la jo ie des
populations36. Le su ccès attire les volontaires autour du c h e f charism atique, com m e ces
corsaires qui disent à Hayreddin, après une affaire délicate à M inorque : « Tu es notre
c h e f ; c ’est de toi seul que dépend notre prospérité37. »
M ais l ’intérêt bien com pris n ’est pas seul à assurer la popularité du gazi, à en juger
par ce retour triomphal de Hayreddin à Tunis : « Quand son frère, les autres gazi, les
marabouts et les saints de l ’endroit, ses grands et petits personnages virent et apprirent
le butin de Hayreddin et ses hauts faits, ils en furent ébahis et surpris et s ’écrièrent :
“C et hom m e n ’est pas le prem ier venu ! Si D ieu très grand le veut, il deviendra un grand

33 La légende noire de Hasan doit d’ailleurs être remise en question à la lumière du contexte,
d’après S. Boubaker, « L’empereur Charles Quint et le sultan hafside Mawlây al-Hasan (1525-
1550) », dans idem et C. llham Alvarez Dopico (éds), Empreintes espagnoles dans l ’histoire
tunisienne (Gijôn 2011), pp. 13-82. Quant à son prédécesseur Muhammad V, honni par les
Barberousse à qui il n’avait pas envoyé l’aide escomptée pour leur permettre de s’emparer de
Bougie, sa réputation n’était plus à faire : cf. Piri Reis, Kitab-i bahriyye, éd. F. Kurdoglu et H.
Alpagol (Istanbul 1935), pp. 663-664 ; Léon l’Africain, Description de l'Afrique, éd. Épaulard
(Paris 1956), p. 388 ; M. Sanudo, Diarii, t. XXVII (Venise 1890), col. 82.
34 01 kifi ki gerçi mü ’min derler ve sureten mü ’min denilir amma if 1er if 1er kim anm etdigi ifleri
kâfir dahi eylemez idi (234 v°).
35 Cf. notamment le cortège décrit en 28 v° : « On habilla alors à leur mode les 60 compagnons de
ce seigneur mécréant, on leur mit une aigrette sur la tête, on leur fit revêtir leur cuirasse et on
leur mit à chacun un chien à la main ; et on fit revêtir une cuirasse à leur 60 compagnons, on les
mit à cheval et on confia un faucon à chacun. 11 sortit encore de cette barça quatre femmes ra­
vissantes, dont aucune n’avait alors sa pareille dans aucun pays. Elles furent elles aussi apprê­
tées. Les deux capitaines [les deux seigneurs] avaient deux bons mulets trotteurs : on les sortit
et l’on plaça deux de ces femmes sur ces mulets et les deux autres sur de bons chevaux, et on les
envoya avec tous ces présents, faisant marcher à pied les mécréants devant leurs compagnons
à cheval : c’est dans cet ordre que [Hayreddin] envoya ses dons au sultan [de Tunis], sous la
conduite d’un de ses hommes de confiance. » (ol kâfir beginin altmif yoldafin kendi âdetlerinin
muktezasinca yine geydirüb baflarin sorkuçlayub ve yine cebelerin geydirüb ve ellerine birer
birer zagarlar verüb ve kendinin dahi altmif yoldafina cebeler geydirüb atlandirub ellerine
birer togan verüb ve dahi ol barçadan dort cemile avretler çikdi kim ol zamanda her biri bir
vilâyetde bulunmazdi anlari dahi tonadub ve ol iki kapudanm ikiyarar veyorga katirlari çikdi
ikisin ol katirlara bindirüb ve ikisin iki yarar atlara bindirüb dahi bunca hedaya ile bunlari
gôndürüb kâfirleri bu atlu yoldaflarin ônlerince piyade sürüb bu ünvan üzre sultana bir yarar
âdeminden bifkef için gônderdi)
36 25 v°-26 r°, 28 r°, 40 r°, 60 v°, 73 r", 123 v°-124 r°, 155 v°-156 r°, 188 v°, 206 r°.
37 Sen bizim serverimizsin bizim varimizin devleti heb senin bafimzdadir (35 v°). Cf. aussi 39 r°,
47 v°.
398 N IC O L A S VATIN

personnage, car où qu’il aille, D ieu (qu’il soit exalté) lui accorde ce qu’il désire38.” »
Le doute n ’effleure donc pas Ibn el-K azi et M uham m ad bin A li quand, dans un premier
tem ps, ils refusent de céder aux pressions des sultans de Tunis et T lem cen. En effet, par
sa gaza, ses victoires et sa piété, Hayreddin a acquis une légitim ité que les princes locaux
ont perdue par leur incom pétence :

Voilà un certain temps que les mécréants venaient dans ces pays et faisaient souffrir des nui­
sances sans nombre aux musulmans. Ils ont pris plus d’un fort aux musulmans et y ont trans­
formé les mosquées et madrasas en églises. Aucun de vous n’a rien pu faire pour nous aider de
quelque manière et nous renforcer. À présent, voilà qu’est venu un combattant de la foi dans la
voie de Dieu, qui a conquis ce pays sur les mécréants. Avant d’en arriver là, ce gazi a longtemps
travaillé et subi force difficultés et souffrances. Il a mainte et mainte fois consacré sa bravoure
au profit des musulmans qui résident en ces pays et a plus d’une fois mis en déroute les soldats
mécréants. Non seulement nous avons profité de son incomparable bonté, de ses grâces et de
ses faveurs ; non seulement nous avons vu de nombreux exemples de sa mâle valeur et de sa
bravoure ; mais encore nous avons vu sa grande foi et piété. Eh bien, celui qui se rebellerait
et se révolterait [contre] un pareil homme ne connaîtrait le bonheur ni dans ce monde ni dans
l’autre. Serait-ce se montrer musulman que de lui être rebelle3940?

A in si que le rappelle ce p assage, la victoire n ’est que la sanction de la piété qui fait de
Hayreddin un sultanu-l-mucahicf0, un cham pion de la gaza et du cihad et un défenseur
des m usulm ans. C ’est cet argum ent qui est d évelop p é dans les appels à l ’aide que, à en
croire la chronique, les gen s de B o u g ie adressent à Oruç :

Vous patrouillez en mer en menant la gaza. Mais nous, quelle tyrannie, quelle oppression,
quelles souffrances nous subissons ici de la part des mécréants ! Ce n’est pas une situation
normale pour les croyants, que vous jouissiez du bien-être alors que nous sommes ici dans

38 Bu ganimeti ve bu etdigi içleri karindaçi ve sair gaziler ve ol yerin mürabitlari ve azizleri ve

sair ekâbiri ve eçagiri gôrüb ve içidüb hayran olub ve taaccüb edüb ayitdilar kim bu kiçi te-
hi degildir inçaallah el-azim bu kifi bir ulu kimesne olur zira kim her kanda varsa Hak te ‘alâ
muradin verir dediler (40 r°).
39 Bu nice zamandur kim bu vilâyete kâfirler gelüb ehl-i islâma haddan ziyade rencide eylediler
ve bir nice ehl-i islâm kalelerin dahi alub mescidlerin ve medreselerin heb kelisa eylediler hiç
birinizin elinden gelmedi kim nev ‘en bize yardim edüb takviyyet edesiz hâliyâ bir mücahid f i
sebili ‘llah kimesne gelüb bu memleketi kâfir elinden alub bu hale koyunca ol gazi bunca zaman
geçirüb hayli belâ ve meçakkat çekdi ve bu diyarlarda olan ehl-i islâma defat ile kerrat ile nice
yoldafiiklar eyledi ve kâfir askerin dahi bir nice kerre münhezim eyledi ve biz dahi anlardan bî-
kiyas eylükler ve in ‘amlar ve ihsanlar gôrdügümüzden gayri çok erlikler ve bahadirliklar gôr-
dügümüzden gayri izdiyad[sic] ile dindarlik ve mü'minlikgôrdük imdi anun bigi kimesne[ye]
isyan ve tugyan eden hiç iki cihanda iflâh olurdi ve dahi alâmet-i islâ[m] midir kim biz ana âsi
olavuz (89 v°-90 r°).
40 C’est le titre que lui donne l’inscription de la plaque de fondation de sa mosquée à Alger, datée
d’avril 1520 : cf. G. Colin, Corpus des inscriptions arabes et turques d ’Algérie. I Département
d ’Alger (Paris 1901), pp. 13-15 ou plus récemment M. Tütüncü, Cezair’de Osmanli izleri (Is­
tanbul 2013), p. 67 sq.
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B E R O U SSE 399

la misère. Si vous souhaitez que les gaza que vous avez faites soient agréées par Allah et son
prophète, venez et tirez-nous des griffes de ces chiens fils de chiens41.

C ’est à peu près dans le m êm e ton que les A lgérois le font un peu plus tard entrer
dans leur v ille42. En som m e, pour Hayreddin qui, envisageant en 1519 de quitter A lger, se
flatte de l ’avoir équipée m ilitairem ent et d ’en avoir a ssez form é les habitants pour qu’ils
puissent désorm ais se défendre seu ls43, la gaza et le cihad sont essen tiels à la nature
du souverain m usulm an légitim e, com m e il le rappelle senten cieusem en t à A bdallah de
T lem cen :

Encore une fois, dégage-toi des mécréants, coupe tout lien avec eux et agis en ennemi de qui­
conque est l’ennemi de Son Excellence Dieu (qu’il soit béni et exalté). Quel pouvoir ont donc
les mécréants pour parvenir en ce monde à se faire remettre le harac par un musulman ? A
mener guerre et bataille contre eux, il y a deux avantages qui ne manquent pas, l’un en ce bas
monde et l’autre dans l’au-delà : si tu meurs, tu es sûr d’être un çehid ; et si tu ne meurs pas, tu
es un être fortuné assurément44.

Ce rôle de protecteur des croyants, Hayreddin l ’assu m e tout particulièrem ent dans
l ’aide qu ’il apporte aux m usulm ans d ’Espagne :

Aucun souverain - rappelle le chroniqueur - ne leur a apporté d’aide ou de soutien pour les
libérer de cette oppression et de l’obscurité de la mécréance. (...) Elevons ici une prière pour
que Dieu (je Le loue, qu’il soit exalté) les sauve de cette calamité et qu’il en accorde le mérite à
Son Excellence le chah de céleste pouvoir Sultan Soliman, souverain maître des conjonctions.
Amen, ô Auxiliateur. Et qu’il fasse de Son Excellence Hayreddin Pacha (que Dieu - qu’il soit

41 Deryada gazalar edüb gezersiz biz bunda kâfirlerden ne zulümler ve ne taaddi ve ne ezalar
gôrürüz bu mü ’minlik degildir kim sizler refahiyyetde olasiz ve biz bunda mihnetde olavuz imdi
eger kkildigmiz gazalar Allah ve resûlullah katmda makbul olsun derseniz gelüb bizi bu kelb
bin kelblerin elinden halâs edesiz (44 r°).
42 48 v°.
43 Cf. 83 r°-v° : « Votre fort a maintenant été bien équipé en canons, arquebuses et autres maté­
riels de guerre. [Sa garnison] est parfaitement entraînée à la guerre et au combat et a appris les
moyens de se battre. En particulier ces musulmans ramenés d’Andalousie sont tous habiles à
l’arquebuse ou à l’arbalète. Outre ceux-ci, les enfants et parentèles de chacun d’entre vous ont
été équipés d’armes et d’arquebuses. Quant au fort, qui n’avait pas jusque là un seul canon,
on y a installé à présent plus de quatre cents bouches à feu. » (Çimdiki halde hisarimz topdan
ve tüfenkden ve sair âlet-i harbdan ma'mur olmiçdir ve bi’l-cümle harba ve zarba ali$mi$dir
ve heb cenk kolayin dahi ôgrenmifier hususen kim bu denlü miislimanlar kim Undûlûs vilâye-
tinden getürilmiç her biri tüfenkçi ve zenberekci kimesnelérdir ve anlardan gayri her birinizin
dahi evladi ve ensabi heb yaraklandilar ve tüfenklendiler ve kalenin dahi fimdiye dek bir topi
yok idi fimdiki halde dôrtyüzden ziyade toplar dahi kondi).
44 Veyine kâfirlerden dahi elin çek ve kat '-i alâka edüb Allah tebareke ve te ‘alâ Hazretlerine aduv
olan kimesnelere adavet eyle imdi kâfirin ne kudreti vardir kim vara dünyada mü ’min olan
kimesne haraç vere ve anlarinla cenk ve kital etmek iki faideden hâlî degil biri dünyevî ve biri
uhrevîyani eger olürsen çehid sahih ve eger ôlmezsen said, sarih olasin (142 r°).
400 N IC O L A S VATIN

exalté - lui accorde ses désirs) l’instrument de leur salut et l’associe à ce mérite. Car c’est lui
qui le premier a été cause que certains d’entre eux sont revenus dans le peuple de l’islam45.

N e nous laissons pas leurrer par la référence o b lig ée à Solim an : à l’évidence, c ’est
Hayreddin qui est glorifié ici et les Gazavat reviennent à plusieurs reprises, au cours du
récit, sur ses efforts pour sauver les mudéjares et les ramener en terre d ’islam 46. B ien
plus, c ’est le refus par les hom m es d ’îbn el-K azi de recevoir ces réfugiés à A lger qui
am ène le bon apôtre à décider de partir à la reconquête de la v ille47 !
Guerrier de la foi à l ’extérieur, le bon souverain doit bien sûr être juste à l ’intérieur.
C ’est ainsi que le premier sou ci au retour d ’une cam pagne en mer est de répartir équita­
blem ent le butin entre les m arins, m ais aussi toute la population, com m e au lendem ain de
telle action victorieu se contre la flotte d ’Andrea D oria : « Quant à lui, com m e il le faisait
auparavant, il réserva leur part et portion de ce riche butin à chacun des saints et des
marabouts et donna leur part à tout ce que la v ille com ptait de pauvres, grands et petits,
et distribua dons et cadeaux aux notables et au reste du peuple, b ref à tous ceux qui le
m éritaient, selon leurs rangs48. » C ette politique de ju stic e est la marque d ’un souci bien
com pris du bien-être des m usulm ans. R éfu gié à D jidjelli après avoir dû quitter A lger, le
prem ier souci de Hayreddin est de récolter en m er le b lé qui m anque à une population
souffrant d ’une grave disette :

Il en distribua une partie à ces soldats, aux pauvres et à la population de Djidjelli, ainsi qu’à
des Arabes venus de territoires dépendant de Djidjelli. À certains il en cédait pour de l’argent.
C’est ainsi que par la grâce de Dieu (qu’il soit exalté) et grâce aux grains de ces barça, le pays
fut débarrassé de la famine et par la suppression de celle-ci retrouva la prospérité. Ce que voy­
ant, la population du pays éleva toutes sortes de prières et d’actions de grâce en l’honneur de
Hayreddin Bey, disant : “C’est pour donner les moyens de subsister à notre pays que Dieu
(nous Le louons, qu’il soit exalté) a fait quitter Alger à ce combattant de la foi et l’a envoyé en
ce pays. Il n’y a pas le moindre doute sur ce point. Il sait ce qui convient à quoi, assurément :
de tout effet il fournit la cause et du présent effet, c’est lui qu’il a fourni pour cause49.”

45 Hiç bir padiçah muin ve zahir olmadi kim anlari bu zulümden ve küfür karanligindan halâs
eyleye (...) bu mahallde dua kilalim kim Hak subhanehu ve te'alâ anlari ol belâdan kurtara
fe-amma kurtarmak sevabini ol $ah-i gerdun-iktidar Sultan Süleyman sahibkiran-i çehriyar
hazretlerine müyesser ede âmin yâ muin ve Hayreddin Pa$a yessere Allahu te’alâ mâ-ye$â
hazretlerini dahi anlara sebeb ediverüb ol sevabda bile eyleye kim ibtida anlarin bazisin ehl-i
islâma çikarmaga sebeb ol olmiçdir (32 v°).
46 97 r°, 126 v°, 158 r° sqq., 204 r°, 208 r°-211 r°.
47 127 v°-130 v°.
48 Ve anlar dahi her bir azizlere ve mürabitlara yine ewelden edegeldikleri bigi ol mail ganimet-
den hisseler ve paylar çikarub ve çehrin fukarasina dahi sigar ü kibar ne kadar varsa heb
hisse verüb ve ayamna ve sair halkina ve dahi her bir mahal olan yerlere haddinca hediye ve
armagan verüb (188 v°).
49 Ve bazisin dahi ol askere vefukaraya ve Cicel halkina ve Cicele tabi olmiç baziyerler var idi ol
elin dahi Arabian geldi anlara dahi bezl eylediler ve kimine dahi akçe ile verüb Hak te ’alânun
inayeti ile ol barcalarun terekesi sebeb olub ol memleketden kahtlik gôtürildi ve def olub gani-
lik oldi ve hem ol memleket halki dahi bu ahvali gôrüb Hayreddin Bege enva-i dualar ve sena-
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B ER O U SSE 401

A ussi n ’a-t-il aucune difficulté à im poser son pouvoir à Tunis, par une attitude de
ju stice qui contraste av ec les turpitudes antérieures du H afside, com m e a v ec le pillage
auquel se livreront les E spagn ols50 qui, bientôt, le remettront sur son trône en en chassant
le bey/pacha ottom an :

Auparavant, Son Excellence Hayreddin Bey avait conseillé à ses compagnons de ne pas faire
souffrir de tort et de dommage aux gens de la ville. De fait, à personne parmi les gens de la
ville, à personne absolument il ne permit qu’on infligeât mal et souffrance : rien de tel ne se
produisit. Quant à lui, il prit la place du sultan et administra. Il suffit qu’il eût fait grâce au peu­
ple et l’eût caressé pour qu’aussitôt le peuple comme avant rouvrît les boutiques et recommen­
çât à pratiquer le commerce et autres occupations : chacun se consacra à son art, ses affaires et
son gagne-pain et tous, dans la plus grande sûreté, s’occupèrent de leurs affaires51.

Enfin, on est frappé par le légalism e affiché par les Barberousse. Oruç con su lte les
oulém as d ’A lg er et obtient d ’eux une fetva justifiant sa cam pagne contre T lem cen 52.
Hayreddin leur dem ande aussi leur avis sur la question des prisonniers esp agn ols : est-il
conform e à la çeriat de rendre contre rançon des soldats de valeur qui, libérés, repren­
dront les armes contre les m usulm ans ? Leur réponse, n égative, ju stifie l ’exécu tion des
captifs par un souverain non pas cruel, m ais responsable et sou cieu x de la L oi53. Plusieurs
années après, sans faire appel cette fo is aux oulém as, Hayreddin refuse pour le m êm e
m o tif à ses com pagnons le droit de vendre des prisonniers, leur disant : « C e que vous
m e proposez n ’est pas une marque d ’islam 54. » A u lendem ain d ’une révolte arm ée des

lar edüb aydurlar idi kim Hak subhanehu ve te ’alâ ol mücahidi bu vilâyete sebeb kilmak içün
Cezairden ihrac edüb bu vilâyete salmujdir hiç staibe-i tjübhe yokdur nesi neye gerek idigin
ol bilir elbetde her hususa bir nesne-i sebeb eder am dahi bu hususa sebeb etmiçdir ( 123 v°-
124 r°).
50 Cf. Marmol, L ’Afrique de Marmol, trad. N. Perrot (Paris 1567), p. 347, qui note que la popula­
tion de Tlemcen refuse un roi qui a permis la mise à sac du pays par les Espagnols.
51 Ve bundan evvel dahi Hayreddin Beg Hazretleri yoldaçlarina ismarlamiç idi kim stehirli
taifesine zarar ve güzend etmeyeler vakia çehirli taifesinden bir kimesneye kat'a ve aslâ bir
kimesneye husr ü ziyan etdirmeyüb ve olmayub ve kendi dahi geçüb sultan yerine oturub beglik
edüb halka aman verüb ve nevaht edicek halk dahi kemakân dükkânlarm açub ticaretlerine ve
gayri tuçlarina mübaijeret edüb ve her biri yine kendi san ’atlarina ve kâr ü kesblerine meçgûl
[o]lub tamam emn ü aman üzre olub her biri kendi ahvallerine meçgûl oldilar (237 r°-v°).
52 62 v°.
53 81 r°-v°. La question se pose aussi concernant le corps, réclamé par les parents : « les oulé­
mas furent à nouveau réunis et ils émirent une fetva selon laquelle c’était un cadavre, dont la
vente était interdite et contraire à la sseriat. Dès qu’ils se furent ainsi exprimés, Son Excellence
Hayreddin Bey fit sortir de la prison le corps de ce mécréant et sans le remettre [à ses parents],
il le fit abandonner dans une crique qu’il y avait, afin que son parent ne pût pas le voler d’une
manière ou d’une autre. » (82 v° : yine ulemayi cem edüb fetva etdikde anlar dahi bu meytedir
bunun bey 7 haramdur ve $er ‘î degildir deyicek tiz Hayreddin Beg Hazretleri dahi ol kâfirin
meyyitin zindandan çikardub bir gôz koy var idi vermeyüb ana birakdirdi kim stayed akrabasi
bir tarik ile ogurlaya deyü).
54 imdi bu siz dediginiz alâmet[-i] islâm degildir (216 v°).
402 N IC O L A S VATIN

A lgérois, il rappelle aux rebelles qu’« il lui serait perm is ( helal) de les exécuter tou sS5_ »
A u total, à cette date en tout cas, l ’aura de la Porte paraît bien lointaine : c ’est Hayred-
din qui est su rp lace. Certes c ’est un parvenu, com m e le rappelle A bdallah, ce prince qu’il
a rem is sur le trône de T lem cen, m ais qui refuse le statut de vassal et ne lui reconnaît
aucune légitim ité :

S’il m’a donné cette terre et confié ce pays, il m’a seulement confié [le pouvoir] d’ordonner et
gouverner. Je n’ai pris l’engagement de verser quoi que ce soit à quiconque. Du reste ce pays
est la terre de mon père. De toutes les manières, sa garde et sa protection ne viennent que de
moi. S’il a le pouvoir de venir me le prendre des mains, eh bien le pays est là ; il ne s’est pas
envolé. Qu’il vienne donc et s’en empare. Mais sinon, cette terre est à moi. Elle était le bien de
mon père et m’a été transmise de lui par voie d’héritage. Je suis capable de la tenir. Je ne don­
nerai à personne ni mon bien ni un seul grain56.

À y regarder de plus près, cependant, Abdallah sem b le admettre que son droit hérédi­
taire pèserait peu devant la force. On est donc renvoyé à la conception des m alékites lo ­
caux sur la légitim ité du pouvoir telle que l ’analyse Houari Touati : le mülk est un fait de
vio len ce, dont la loi ne condam ne que les abus : tyrannie, injustice ou sensualité ; le statut
légal du mülk im plique de pratiquer le cihad pour défendre et conserver le royaum e, de
garantir la justice, d ’assurer la sécurité et de préserver l ’ordre. Ce cod e « fait de l ’État un
appareil d éfen sif au service de la com m unauté p olitique » et suffit à légitim er un sou ve­
rain ju ste : tout pouvoir est légal pourvu q u ’il respecte à la lettre la .sériât57.
C om m e on le voit, l’analyse du récit d es Gazavat sem b le une illustration parfaite de
cette conception du pouvoir. Encore con vient-il de se demander, ne fut-ce q u ’à la lecture
seulem ent de la chronique, dans q uelle m esure ce program m e était appliqué. L’assassinat
de Selim el-T oum i, qui perm it à Oruç de s ’emparer du pouvoir à A lger, devait être diffi­
cilem en t justifiable en ju stice et en droit, puisque les Gazavat préfèrent n ’en pas parler.
Oruç se m ontra d ’ailleurs incapable d ’honorer son contrat de défenseur des m usulm ans,
son artillerie se révélant im puissante contre le fort d es E spagnols sur le P enon d ’Alger.
Quant à son attitude à T lem cen, plus d ’une source rapporte qu’il m ontra tant de violen ce
et de tyrannie que les citadins en vinrent bientôt à souhaiter son départ58.

55 116 r°.
56 01 bana bu yeri aliverüb ve bu memleketi ismarladi ise ancak bana hükm ve hükûmetin
ismarladi artik benim kimesneye nesne vermek borcum degildir ve hem if bu memleket dahi
benim atam yeridir ve her vech ile bu yerin hifzi ve hiraseti benim elimden gelir imdi eger ol
dahi yine geliib benim elimden almaga kadir ise ufda memleketdir yerinden gôçüb gitmedi
gelsin alsin ve illâ bu yerler benimdir ve benim atam milkîdir ve cihet-i irsî ile bana atamdan
müntakil olmufdur imdi pes [yin]e amn ben zabtina kadirim kimesneye ne milkim veririm ve
ne bir habbe veririm (142 v°-143 r°).
57 H. Touati, Entre Dieu et les hommes. Lettrés, saints et sorciers au Maghreb (17e siècle) (Paris
1994), pp. 112-119.
58 Cf. M. Sanudo, Diarii, t. XIX (Venise 1887), col. 148-153 ; t. XXIII (Venise 1888), col. 23 ; H.
de La Primaudaie, « Documents inédits sur l’histoire de l’occupation espagnole en Afrique »,
Revue Africaine, XIX (1875), pp. 148-153 (p. 152) ; Marmol, L ’Afrique, p. 339 ; Ch. de La Vé-
ronne, Oran et Tlemcen dans la première moitié duXVle siècle (Paris 1983), p. 25.
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B ER O U SSE 403

Hayreddin semble avoir été plus politique et plus adroit avec la population. Néan­
moins il lui fallut à lui aussi attendre 1529, à un moment où sa position était appa­
remment plus solide, pour s’attaquer au fort du Penon. Les choses n’avaient pas été
si simples auparavant. C ’est précisément alors qu’il avait obtenu la reconnaissance du
sultan ottoman qu’ibn el-Kazi, dont on a vu le soutien qu’il affichait à l’égard de ce noble
gazi défenseur des musulmans, décida de se retourner contre lui et il n ’eut pas de mal
à convaincre les habitants de la campagne algéroise d ’arrêter ou tuer les Turcs dont ils
pourraient se saisir59. Dans la ville soumise à de longs mois de blocus, la situation deve­
nait intenable pour les habitants, qui n ’avaient donc plus guère de raisons de soutenir un
souverain qui n ’était pas des leurs et dont la présence ne leur apportait que la misère. Tels
sont en tout cas les arguments avancés par l’ennemi qui cherche à les séduire :

Comment demeurez-vous dans une forteresse qui est comme une prison ? Si vous venez
vous entendre avec nous et trouvez la tranquillité, eh bien quoi ? Nous, en tout cas, nous
n’abandonnerons pas cette place. Vous aurez vergogne alors. Si cela se fait dès maintenant
grâce à vous, eh bien quoi ? Si vous vous débarrassez de ce Turc et vivez avec les vôtres, où
sera votre honte et où votre zèle60 ?

De fait, un soulèvement se prépare bientôt, qu’il faut réprimer brutalement. Certes

le calme revient, mais l’atmosphère est lourde : « Bref, deux ans passèrent ainsi, tantôt
dans l’amitié, tantôt dans l’hostilité, chacun se comportant vis-à-vis de l’autre avec une
certaine dissimulation. Mais enfin, comme ils ne pouvaient pas faire confiance aux cita­
dins ni se fier à eux, ils ne pouvaient aller nulle part et étaient comme prisonniers dans le
fort61. » Deux décennies plus tard, l’atmosphère semble comparable dans Tunis assiégée
par les Espagnols62, dont la population, également travaillée par le sultan hafside dépos­
sédé63, est partiellement hostile à Hayreddin, ce qui provoque sa défaite.
Dans les deux cas, Hayreddin est contraint de se retirer. Certes, le récit des Gazavat
donne le change : il nous montre le héros remettant les clefs d’Alger avec hauteur à ses

59 104 r°.
60 Nice bir habs bigi bir kalede durursuz gelseniz bizimle sulh edüb huzur etseniz ne ve biz hod
âhirü’l-emr ol kale'i koyacak degiliz ol vaktin utanacagmiz(i) çimdiden sizlerin minneti bile
olsa ne ol Türki aradan ihrac edüb kendi cinsiniz ile olsaniz kani ariniz ve kani gayretiniz
(109 v°).
61 Velhasil iki yil bu üslûb üzre gâh dost ve gâh düçman suretinde birbiri ile münafikâne zinde-
gâne eylediler âhir çehirlü taifesine i ‘tikad ve i ‘timad olinmamagin bir yere varmaga da me-
calleri olmayub ancak habs bigi kalede kalicak (119 r°).
62 Sur le siège de Tunis, cf. 244 r° sqq.
63 « Il diffusa aussi des papiers à l’intérieur du fort et rédigea et diffusa des sauf-conduits pour
des Arabes, multipliant serments et conditions : dans ces papiers, il recherchait la confiance du
peuple » (ve hisar içinde dahi ba ‘zi kâgidlar birakub Arab taifesine aman kâgidlarin yazub
birakub andlar ve çartlar edüb ol kâgidlar içinde halki inandirdilar : 248 r°). Si les Gazavat
ne reproduisent pas le contenu de ces tracts, Marmol, L ’Afrique, p. 480, en donne une idée qui
paraît vraisemblable : « Chassez les Turcs, qui sont vos tyrans, et recevez votre roi, qui vous
aime et qui vous veut du bien. » On est frappé par la parenté de ton entre ce message et ceux
envoyés aux Algérois assiégés.
404 N IC O LA S VATIN

ennemis gratifiés d ’un discours moralisateur, puis quittant la ville en majesté, entouré
des prières du peuple qui souhaite qu’il reste. Mais quoi qu’il en soit de la réalité invé­
rifiable du déroulement de la journée, Hayreddin n ’avait pas le choix : non seulement la
situation militaire était inquiétante, mais plus encore, incapable d ’assurer la sécurité face
aux ennemis et, à l’intérieur, le bon ordre et la justice, il avait perdu sa légitimité : une
légitimité fondée sur la force est naturellement ébranlée par une perte de force.

* * *

Indépendamment de ces questions de légitimité, on peut se demander dans quelle mesure

les Barberousse ont imprimé leur marque dans l’organisation et la pratique du pouvoir et,
en particulier, s’ils ont ottomanisé leur domaine64.
Incontestablement, on décèle un modèle ottoman sous-jacent, sans du reste qu’on
puisse toujours déterminer s’il dicte la conduite des deux frères, ou s’il permet seulement
à l’auteur de donner à son public une idée à peu près concrète de ces contrées lointaines
et exotiques. C ’est particulièrement clair dans un passage qui nous montre les premières
mesures prises pour organiser le territoire, peu après la mainmise d’Oruç sur Alger :

Il y avait dix forts qui étaient des dépendances des pays de cette région, c’est-à-dire des
dépendances d’Alger et de Bougie. C’étaient de bons forts, cinq situés à l’est, cinq à l’ouest.
Séparant ces dix forts par une frontière, Oruç Bey donna à Hayreddin Reis ceux qui étaient du
côté oriental. Hayreddin Reis s’y rendit et devint bey en ce pays. Il fit de Dellys sa capitale, s’y
installa et commença à gouverner ce pays et royaume qui lui avait été accordé. Puis quittant
ce lieu, il sortit pour [visiter] le pays et royaume. Il fit le registre des foyers de ce pays, avec
son produit et son revenu, afin de le dépenser — à hauteur de ce qu’il rapportait — en soldats.
Il désigna endroit par endroit et dépêcha des secrétaires et des emin. Il implanta et envoya des
caïds pays par pays : c’est à dire qu’il envoya un bey dans chaque lieu pour assurer le contrôle,
la garde et la protection de ce pays. Ceux-ci partirent et assurant chacun la gestion des lieux qui
leur étaient affectés, y assurèrent la paix et la tranquillité65.

64 Qu’on me permette de redire que ce qui suit concerne uniquement la courte période du règne
effectif de Hayreddin, jusqu’en 1533 (ou 1535 dans la mesure où j ’évoque à l’occasion l’éphé­
mère conquête de Tunis). C’est sur une situation administrative postérieure (même si certains
éléments peuvent avoir déjà existé) que sont fondées les considérations des historiens sur la
province ottomane d’Alger, comme par exemple les pp. 658 sqq. de la synthèse de Boubaker,
« Il Maghreb », ou comme l’article de Hizmetli, « Türklerin yônetimi dôneminde ». Or il est
clair, à lire le récit des Gazavat, qu’il n’y avait pas de présence notable de janissaires à Alger
à l’époque qui nous concerne (sur le mythe de l’envoi de janissaires par Selim 1er, cf. Vatin,
« Note sur l’entrée d’Alger »), de même que Hayreddin contrôlait personnellement le monde
des corsaires. Sur la formation d’un territoire tunisien par le moyen d’un contrôle administratif
manifesté par le registre, cf. F. Ben Sliman, « De l’espace au territoire de l’identité. Registres
fiscaux et représentations de l’espace dans la Tunisie ottomane (fin 17e-début 19e siècles) »,
dans L. Aïssa (éd.), Perceptions de l ’espace au Maghreb et ailleurs. Rencontre internationale,
vendredi 10 avril et samedi 11 avril 2009 (s.l.n.d., Université de Tunis, Faculté des Sciences
Humaines et Sociales), pp. 83-100.
65 01 tarafda olan memleketler tevabihi yani Cezair ve Bicâya tabileri on pare kale idi heb yarar
kaleler idi beçi arkî ve beçi garbî vaki olmiç idi ve ol on pare kit'anun ortasina sinür koyub çol
ark tarafinda vaki olan kaleleri Oruç Beg merhûm Hayreddin Reise verdi ve Hayreddin Reis
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B E R O U SSE 405

La même politique est appliquée peu après dans Tlemcen occupée : « Feu Oruç Bey
quant à lui désigna des gouverneurs pour chaque endroit du pays et royaume et en prit
l’entier contrôle. Dans cette position il lui apportait paix et sûreté sous sa justice et y
faisait régner l’ordre*66. » Une dernière citation paraît éclairante. Affirmant vouloir quitter
Alger en 1519, Hayreddin explique à ceux qui veulent le retenir qu’il a accompli sa mis­
sion : la place est désormais bien équipée et capable de se défendre mais, plus encore, le
pays a acquis des institutions qui le renforcent : « A présent votre pays a trouvé la paix et
la sécurité. M aintenant que je m ‘en vais, vous pouvez le contrôler, car toute la population
du royaume s’est soumise à un seul lieu. Que ce soit les imams, les hatib, les marabouts
ou les autres notables, ils se sont tous mis d’accord67. »
Pour un auditoire ottoman, tout ceci renvoie à des réalités simples et claires : le pays
a été divisé en sancak ayant chacun un bey à sa tête ; des fonctionnaires compétents ont
été chargés de dresser systématiquement des registres fiscaux de manière à déterminer le
revenu disponible. Ainsi, un impôt juste et équitablement réparti permettra de financer
l’armée et l’appareil de l’État pour le plus grand bonheur de la population réunie avec ses
élites autour de la capitale - comprenons, quoique Hayreddin prétende quitter la place, de
son souverain. Ainsi, dans ces contrées marquées par le perpétuel désordre institutionnel
et politique dû aux rivalités entre princes68 et à la présence dans l’arrière-pays de tribus à
peu près incontrôlables69, les Barberousse ont importé le modèle qui a fait le succès des
Ottomans...
Sur les modalités concrètes de la gestion de leurs provinces par les Barberousse, on
ne sait à dire vrai rien, nos sources les plus anciennes - Marmol ou Haëdo —étant pos­
térieures et décrivant la situation telle qu’elle fut par la suite. Il n ’en demeure pas moins
que le tableau que je viens de citer doit être observé avec prudence. On aura noté que
le terme employé est caïd, traduit par bey à l’intention du public turcophone. Il s’agit

dahi varub ol diyarda beg olub ve Delîs taht edinüb anda karar edüb ol ta ‘yin olinan eline ve
memleketine hükm ve hükûmet etmege bafiadi ve andan yine turub el ve memleket üstine çikdi
ol vilâyetün hanesin yazub hâsil ve mahsulin bile tâkim hâsili nedir ana gôre asker kullanub
harc ede ve cabeca kâtibler ve eminler ta 'yin eyleyüb gônderdi ve kaidler dahi dikiib vatan be-
vatan irsal eyledi yani yer yer begler dahi gônderdi ol vilâyetün zabti vehifzü hiraseti için ve
anlar dahi varub her birisi ta 'yin olunan yerlerine hükm ve hükûmet edüb tamam emn ü aman
üzre eylediler (60 v°-61 r°).
66 Oruç Beg merhûm dahi ol ele ve ol memlekete yer yer zâbitlar ta ‘yin eyledi tamam zabt etdirdi
uçta memleketi zabt eyleyüb adl ile emn ü aman ile kilub nizam intizam vermekde (63 v°).
67 Çimdiki halde memleketiniz dahi emn ü aman üzre olmuçdur çün kim ben giderim yine siz
memleketi[n]izi zabt edebilirsiz zira kim fimdiki halde cümle memleket halki dahi heb biryere
tabi olmuçlardur eger imamlari ve eger hatibleri ve eger murabitlari ve sair ayant heb ittifak
üzredir (83 v°-84 r°).
68 Bien connu historiquement, le phénomène est abondamment souligné dans les Gazavat qui
consacrent de nombreux passages aux luttes dynastiques qui ébranlent régulièrement Tlemcen.
69 Sur les Hafsides et les tribus, cf. R. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale sous les Hafsides, des
origines à la fin du XVe siècle, t. II (Paris 1940-1947), p. 98-103. Pour ce qui est du sultanat
de Fès, cf. M. Kably, Société, pouvoir et religion au Maroc à lafin du Moyen Age (Paris 1986),
pp. 223 sqq.
406 N IC O LA S VATIN

donc, somme toute, d ’une institution locale dont les compétences, dans le cas du sultanat
hafside, ne recouvraient que partiellement celles d ’un sancakbeyi ottoman70. De même,
la mention au passage d ’un geôlier du bagne d ’Alger obtenant une permission pour se
rendre sur son « timar »71 ne permet évidemment pas de supposer l’organisation dans
le pays d ’une hiérarchie de cavaliers timariotes, mais doit traduire une réalité locale
rapidement assimilée à un timar pour la clarté du récit72. On n ’a pas d’information sur
la plupart de ces caïds. Certains sont présentés comme des kul d’Oruç ou de Hayreddin,
donc des proches73, ce qui indique de la part du centre une volonté de contrôle fondé
sur la fidélité. Mais outre qu’une tendance similaire s’était peu à peu imposée chez les
Hafsides74, ce pouvait être un espoir illusoire, comme le montre le cas de Kara Hasan
qui, suborné par les ennemis de Hayreddin, se constitua pour quelques années un petit
royaume à Cherchell.
Bien plus, on est frappé par la façon dont Oruç divise son domaine en deux, en
confiant la moitié à Hayreddin. Certes, on a vu que celui-ci demeurait son subordonné et
tout, dans le récit des Gazavat, donne l’image d’une entente parfaite entre les frères. On
peut néanmoins se demander si confier au cadet un pareil apanage n’était pas une néces­
sité politique visant à éviter tout risque de conflit : c’était, pour reprendre une formule de
M. Kably, la « solution du partage et du compromis » adoptée par les Mérinides au Ma­
roc pour résoudre la question de la rivalité des princes75. C ’était aussi prendre le risque
d ’une tendance sécessionniste, ainsi que le remarquait S. liter76, dont la désapprobation
souligne inconsciemment combien ce choix probablement inévitable était aux antipodes
d ’une pratique centralisatrice ottomane idéale.
La mort d ’Oruç résolut le problème, mais n ’assura pas pour autant à Hayreddin un
règne paisible sur un royaume uni, centralisé et prospère, puisqu’il dut lutter pour sa
survie à Alger, face à des tribus tantôt alliées, tantôt ennemies, mais aussi face à une
population urbaine qui, au moins jusqu’à son retour en 1527, fut loin, on le sait, de faire
corps autour de lui. Quant au contrôle économique et fiscal du territoire, nous ne sommes

70 Cf. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale, pp. 112-113 : faire respecter l’autorité sultanienne, as­
surer l’ordre parmi les habitants, servir d’intermédiaire naturel entre le pouvoir central et la
population, recouvrer l’impôt, commander les troupes de la province. Pour une description des
caïds de l’Algérie ottomane au XVIe siècle, cf. D. de Haëdo, Topographie et histoire générale
d ’Alger, trad. Monnereau et Berbrugger, Revue Africaine (1870 et 1871), pp. 51-53.
71 221 v°-222 r°.
72 On peut supposer qu’ici, timar traduit ikta. Sur la forme locale de cette concession de revenu,
cf. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale, pp. 184-190.
73 Celui de Miliana, lors de la première période algéroise, est un cheikh arabe (71 v°-72 r°). En re­
vanche celui qui est en poste à la frontière de Tlemcen, dans la seconde période algéroise, Velid
Bey, est un ancien esclave d’Oruç (202 r°) ; c’est également un de ses kul, Cafer, que Hayred­
din nomme caïd de Kairouan au lendemain de l’éphémère conquête de Tunis (246 v°). Haëdo,
Topographie, p. 53, évoque une centaine de maisons de caïds et, parmi les 23 plus importantes,
dénombre 6 Turcs, 11 renégats, 2 Türkoglu, 2 Maures et 1 juif.
74 Cf. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale, p. 111.
75 Cf. Kably, Société, pouvoir et religion au Maroc, p. 173.
76 Aziz Samih [liter], Çimali Afrika’da Türkler (Istanbul 1936), p. 77.
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B ER O U SSE
407

guère renseignés, mais on est frappé par les considérations qui amènent Hayreddin à
abandonner Alger assiégée :

Hayreddin constata d’une part que la position de la population du pays était ce qui a été dit,
que faute de lui faire confiance on ne pouvait sortir et qu’il avait perdu le contrôle du territoire.
D’autre part il savait n’avoir pas un revenu suffisant pour entretenir lui-même et ses troupes et
qu’il ne lui restait rien du Trésor : tout avait filé. Il en vint pour finir à songer à abandonner Al­
ger et à repartir un temps faire la course en mer77.

On comprend bien, à lire ce texte, l’importance de l’or pour régner, mais aussi que
loin de compter sur l’impôt pour remplir les caisses, l’homme qui voulait être roi ne pou­
vait faire fortune que sur mer. Il n ’était toujours q u ’un corsaire dont le véritable élément
était liquide : si Oruç avait trouvé la mort à Tlemcen, dans l’intérieur des terres, Hayred­
din, à Alger comme à Tunis, avait pris soin de préserver à portée de main une flotte dont
il savait pouvoir attendre le salut.
Avant d ’en arriver à la solution du retrait - pour ne pas dire de la fuite - , Hayreddin
n ’avait guère d’autre choix que de composer avec les forces locales : cheikhs de tribus,
notables urbains, oulémas et marabouts, compagnons (yoldaç) turcs enfin.
Vis-à-vis des tribus et de leurs chefs, on pouvait à l’occasion faire acte de violence,
comme à l’égard de tel cheikh qui collectait le tribut destiné aux Espagnols et qu’Oruç
voulait mettre au pas. Sur la demande de son frère, Hayreddin « fondit la nuit [sur ce
cheikh] pris au dépourvu alors qu’il campait : il le trouva lui-même, s’empara de sa
personne et le ramena à Djidjelli avec sa maisonnée, sa famille, ses biens, ses fils, ses
filles, ses moutons et ses dromadaires. » Mais c ’était pour trouver aussitôt un arrange­
ment : « Ils conclurent le traité suivant : tout ce qu’il remettait précédemment forfaitai­
rement aux mécréants, il le maintiendrait et le leur remettrait intégralement à eux [les
Barberousse]78. »
Maître d ’Alger à la mort d ’Oruç, Hayreddin semble avoir à son tour procédé à une
sorte de partage des responsabilités militaires au sein de son royaume, mais ce fut au
profit de chefs tribaux, M uhammad ibn Ali et ibn el-Kazi de Kouko79. On sait que ce

77 Ve Hayreddin Beg dahi gôrdi kim hem memleket halkinm ise hali bu bunlara inamlub taçra
çikilmaz ve memleketin ise taçrasi elden gitdi kendilere ve askerine kifayet edecek mikdari
nesne hâsil olmaz oldi ve elinde ise hazine kismindan nesne kalmadi heb gitdi âkibet eyle fikr
eylediler kim Cezairi birakub gidüb varub birzamanyine bahra çikub çikârin ede (120 r°).
78 Gafil bir yerde yatirken gece ile basub kendiyi bulub ele getürdi evi ve barki ve esbabi ve
ogli ve kizi ve koyum ve devesi ile sürüb Cicele getürdiler ve eyle sulh eylediler kim sabika
maktulari ne ise kim küjfara verirler idiyine am berkarar edüb bî-kusur am vereler (55 v°).
79 La présentation des Gazavat, dont l’auteur cherche encore une fois à trouver un équivalent
ottoman à une réalité qu’on cerne mal, assimile Hayreddin à un sancakbeyi et ses collabora­
teurs à des zaim : « Il y avait deux personnes nommées Ahmed bin Kazi et Muhammad ibn
Ali, qui étaient de grands marabouts, de grands savants et de grands ascètes et à qui précédem­
ment Hayreddin Bey avait confié les cavaliers arabes, c’est à dire qu’il les avait mis à leur tête
comme des sortes de çeribaçi ou d’alaybeyi, l’un chargé de l’est et l’autre de l’ouest. » (Ah­
med bin Kazi ve Muhammed ibn Ali nam kimesneler kim anlar gayetle murabitlar ve âlimler
408 N IC O LA S VATIN

dernier ne tarda pas à changer de camp. Finalement victorieux de son rival, Hayreddin fit
un retour triomphal dans sa ville d ’Alger, recevant sur son chemin l’allégeance des chefs
de tribus venant lui baiser la main80. Mais c ’était pour composer aussitôt : « Quand ils
virent que Hayreddin Bey venait sur place, ils rencontrèrent leur bey : ils vinrent et ceux
qui étaient de qualité parmi eux lui baisèrent la main ; joyeux et heureux, ils firent toutes
sortes de manifestations de fête et de bonheur. Hayreddin Bey leur confirma et assura la
possession des pays qu’ils tenaient81. » Et un peu plus tard :

Des lettres furent envoyées dans toutes les directions, à tous les villages et toutes les tribus, par
lesquelles [les indigènes] étaient invités avec promesse d’aman. A la vue de ces lettres, sans
tarder, en l’espace de dix jours vinrent de tous côtés les cheikhs, les descendants du Prophète,
les marabouts, les saints hommes, les grands, les savants, bref tous les hommes de valeur des
tribus, tous tant qu’ils étaient, qui faisant à nouveau acte d’obédience, baisèrent la main de
Hayreddin Bey. Chacun d’eux reçut une lettre d’aman, la possession des terres qu’ils domi­
naient leur fut fermement confirmée et ils repartirent chacun chez soi. Ils vécurent chacun chez
soi comme auparavant, dans la tranquillité ancienne et dans la paix82.

La question tribale est ainsi à jam ais résolue, nous assure le chroniqueur avec opti­
misme :

Le reste de la population vint également, présenta des excuses sans fin et l’on repartit chacun
chez soi dans une sûreté et une tranquillité parfaites. La population du pays toute entière con­
nut une sûreté et une tranquillité entières et respecta partout le bon ordre. Les yeux des reaya
s’ouvrirent pour certains : non seulement nul ne se lancerait désormais dans la rébellion pour
suivre son clan, mais même si les beys du pays partaient, ils se détourneraient d’eux sans leur
prêter attention83.

ve zâhid kimesneler idi ve hem Arab sipahilerinin üzerlerine Hayreddin Beg anlari mu ‘temed
eylemiç idi a 'nî çeribaçi bigi veyahud alay begi bigi hele anlari ba$ eylemiç idi birini $ark
tarafina ve birini garb tarafina : 83 v°).
80 Le baisemain marquant l’obédience était bien connu du pays (cf. Brunschvig, La Berbérie
orientale, p. 18-20), mais pouvait aussi, bien entendu, être assimilé au cérémonial ottoman.
81 Çun kim anlar Hayreddin Begün anda geldigin gôrdiler gelüb anlar dahi beglerine buhçub
yine gelüb yararlari el ôpüb ve $ad ü hurrem olub ve enva dürlü çenlikler edüb ve çadiliklar
eylediler ve Hayreddin Beg Hazretleri dahi yine anlarin ellerinde olanyerlerin ibka ve mukar-
rer eyledi (133 v°-l 34 r°).
82 Her canibe ve her kdye ve her boya mektublar gônderüb gelesiz deyüb aman verdi ve anlar
dahi ol mektubi gôrüb eglenmeyüb on günün içinde her tarafdan boy çeyhleri ve rjerîfleri ve
murabitlari ve azizleri ve ululari ve âlimleri ve bi 'l-cümleyararlari bi-esrihim ve ecmi ’im gelüb
yine tekrar bey ‘at edüb ve Hayreddin Begün elin ôpüb ve her birisi yine aman mektublarin alub
ve üzerlerinde olan yerlerin yine mukarrer ve ibka edüb andan varub yine yerlü yerine gitdiler
ve varub yine yerlü yerinde kemakân geçinüb ve ber-karar-i sabik mukarrer olub huzur eyledi­
ler (137 v°-138 r°).
83 Ve sair halk dahi gelüb her biri bî-had ôzürhahlik eyleyüb yine emn ile ve aman ile yerlü yerine
gitdiler ve ol memleket halh dahi heb tamam emn ü aman üzerine olub ve her taraf nizam ve
intizam tutdi ve reaya taifesinin dahi bir pare gôzleri açildi artuk kimesne paresine uyub isyan
etmek degil gerçekden anlara ol vilâyetin begi gider olsa dônüb bakmayalar (138 r°).
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B E R O U SSE 409

Pourtant, le frère du défunt Ibn el-Kazi ne devait pas tarder à se révolter à son tour
et il fallut deux ans d ’infructueuses campagnes dans les montagnes pour mettre la main
sur sa famille :

Alors, des intermédiaires s’interposèrent à nouveau et l’on s’entendit sur 30 charges d’argent :
les nôtres reçurent celles-ci intégralement et eux vinrent faire acte de repentance et demander
pardon : ils ne sortiraient plus désormais du droit chemin. [Hayreddin] fit cent remontrances à
leurs lala, les avertissant de conseiller à leurs patrons de ne plus agir de la sorte et de se tenir
convenablement. Puis il repartit pour Alger où il s’installa dans la joie et le bonheur84.

Vision irénique qui laisse dubitatif quand on sait que les tribus continuèrent par la
suite à poser au maîtres du Maghreb ottoman les mêmes problèmes auxquels avaient été
confrontés leurs prédécesseurs85. Caractéristique de la contradiction entre une attitude
impériale « ottomane » et la réalité de la situation est le dialogue opposant Hayreddin qui
vient de s’emparer de Tunis à des chefs tribaux :

Afin de mettre la main sur ce maudit qui est de mèche avec les mécréants86, envoyez dans une
direction différente chacun des gens qui sont sous votre contrôle, enquêtez, recherchez et pour-
voyez-y. Car s’il se trouve en un lieu à portée de votre main et si vous-mêmes vous trouvez en
un lieu où vous puissiez porter la main sur eux mais que vous demeurez inactifs et vous mettez
dans le cas d’avoir été négligents et insouciants, sachez que vous subirez vous aussi la peine et
le châtiment qui lui reviendront. Après cela, à celui d’entre vous qui se saisira de lui, je donne­
rai 30 000 pièces d’or et je laisserai ses pays purs, autrement dit je les exempterai des tekâlif-i
ôrfiyye et des avariz-i divaniyye et ferai d’eux des musellent87.

Mais ses interlocuteurs répondent en exigeant le tribut traditionnellement versé par

le sultan hafside : « depuis les temps les plus anciens, c ’est notre kanun que le sultan ré­

84 Yine muslih ortaya düçüb otuz yük gümüçe kesüb ve otuz yük gümüsti bî-kusur alub anlar dahi
gelüb tevbeler ve istigfarlar edüb artik azmayacak oldilar ve ol dahi anlarin lalalarina yiiz na-
sihat eyledi kim sizyine dahi bunlara nasihat eylen ki artik eyle etmeyüb edebleri ile otursunlar
deyüb andan gôçübyine Cezaire gelüb §ad ü hurrem oturdilar (145 v°-146 r°).
85 II suffit de lire Marmol pour s’en convaincre. Hess, The Forgotten Frontier, pp. 156-186,
considère qu’au total, le pouvoir ottoman réussit à contrôler assez bien le monde tribal. Cf.
aussi la brève synthèse de Lahouel, « Rapports entre les gouvernants et les gouvernés », qui
conclut (p. 49) que les « Turco-ottomans » surent à la fois former des alliances (changeantes)
avec les dignitaires politiques ou religieux des tribus et avoir recours à la violence face à de
nombreux soulèvements et ajoute surtout : « Mais à aucun moment les autochtones ne présen­
tèrent un front unique. Leurs actions parcellaires ne compromirent guère la stabilité relative du
régime. »
86 Le sultan hafside en fuite.
87 Ol kâfirler ile ortak olan mel'um ele getürmek içün zabtimzda vaki olan halkin her birin bir
yana gônderüb tecessüs edüb yokladub gôrdüresiz fôyle kim sizlerin eli erer yerlerde olub
ve sizler ele getürecek yerlerde olub ve sizler tinmayub ve ihmal ve müsahele e tm f olacak
olursamz eyle bilesiz kim ana olacak azab ve i 'kab sizlere olur ve ba ‘dehu eger kangimz kim
ele getürürse otuz bin nakd kizil altin verüb ve dahi amn memleketlerin sarah edelim yani kim
tekâlif-i ôrfiyyeden ve avartz-i divanîden muaf ve müsellem edelim (237 v°-238 r°).
410 N IC O LA S VATIN

gnant ici nous envoie tous les ans une certaine somme d’or. Ce même sultan qui vient de
fuir en abandonnant Tunis nous la livrait. Versez-la nous vous aussi et nous ferons tout ce
que vous voudrez : vous n ’avez qu’à parler88. » Hayreddin est bien contraint d ’accepter
tout en faisant preuve de fermeté : ils ont déjà reçu le tribut de l’année en cours : « Actuel­
lement, vous pesez sur les reaya et leur faites souffrir tyrannie et oppression. Cessez de
vivre sur eux et allez vous installer dans le désert. Après quoi apportez vos berat et nous
verrons : nous vous verserons l’annuité prévue par vos berafî9. » On voit que pour finir
en dépit d ’une phraséologie ottomane, ce sont bien les cheikhs qui obtiennent gain de
cause et que, loin de devenir des auxiliaires exemptés de certaines taxes, ils continuent à
toucher le tribut que leur versait le sultan de Tunis.
Tout aussi ambigus sont les rapports avec les populations urbaines. J ’ai rappelé pré­
cédemment des gestes de justice et de générosité destinés à les lier au nouveau pouvoir.
Un leitmotiv des Gazavat est le retour à la paix et à la prospérité entraîné par l’arrivée des
Barberousse, arrivée parfois sollicitée par une partie des habitants. Marmol signale au pas­
sage, dans sa description, que certaines villes avaient de tradition de bons rapports avec les
Turcs, alors que d ’autres subissaient leur tyrannie. À Alger même, on verra les habitants
contribuer à la défense de la ville contre Charles Quint et, au début de sa première instal­
lation, Hayreddin tenait compte de son avis - qui fut à l’origine de la création du premier
bagne - et n ’hésitait pas à l’armer90. Mais cette bonne volonté ne suffit pas, on l’a dit, à
empêcher la révolte d ’une population épuisée par plusieurs mois de blocus. Il n ’était plus
question désormais de se borner à Vistimalet : les compagnons de Hayreddin souhaitaient
massacrer toute la population91. Lui-même cependant opta pour une politique plus nuan­
cée : il convoqua « dans leur totalité les grands et les petits de la ville et les fit tous venir
sans exception à la mosquée sacrée », puis « s’y rendit en personne avec un certain nombre
de serviteurs92 » : autant dire que toute la population de la ville était prise au piège. Là,

il se mêla à l’assemblée, s’assit au milieu d’eux, après quoi il releva la tête, ouvrit la bouche
et commença à parler en ces termes : “O mes compagnons ! Qu’est-ce donc que vous avez fait
là ? Quelle action est-ce que la vôtre ? Quelle affaire, celle que vous avez entreprise ? Que vous
avons-nous donc fait, quel mauvais traitement, quelle méchanceté, pour que vous vous con­
duisiez si mal ? Car enfin, nous avons montré tant d’esprit de camaraderie à votre égard ; non
seulement nous vous avons défendus et protégés contre l’ennemi, mais nous avons multiplié

88 Kadimü’z-zamandan buyerepadiçah olan kimesnelerden her senede bu kadar altin kanunu-

muz vardur ve ol sultan kim Tunusi komiç kaçmifdir el’ân ol verirdi ve sizler dahi vérin andan
ne buyurursaniz eyle olsun den (238 r°-v°).
89 El ’ân sizler heb reaya üzerinde oturub anlara zulüm ve taaddi edersiz anlarin üzerinden kalkin
ve varin sahralarda oturun andan sonra beratlarmiz getürün gôrelim biz dahi ol beratlar mu-
cibince hebydliklarimzi verelim (238 v°).
90 76 v°-77 v°.
91 114 v°.
92 Nida etdürüb âmmeten çehrin büyügün ve küçügün cami-i qerife davet edüb ve kigirdub eksik-
siz getürdüb cami-i çerife toldurub andan kendi dahi bir mikdar hizmetkârlar bile sürüb varub
(115 v°).
 LE PO U V O IR D ES B A R B ER O U SSE
411

les bons procédés envers nombre d’entre vous. Est-ce ainsi que vous nous payez de retour en
vous livrant à des actes si inconvenants ? N ’eût-il pas convenu, dans les temps que nous vi­
vons, que vous agissiez un peu en camarades à notre égard ? Vous voulez détruire tant de nos
compagnons, nous expulser de la ville et nous condamner à errer sans toit. Qu’est-ce à dire ?
Cette action inconvenante est-elle convenable ? A présent il m’est permis (helal) de vous exé­
cuter tous. Ô [mes amis], que vais-je faire de vous93 ?”

Les notables s’interposèrent, on ne retint que cent soixante meneurs dont seulement
vingt furent exécutés. Ceux qui en réchappèrent, conclut le chroniqueur, furent éblouis
par la générosité du maître. En vérité ils avaient dû trembler, car au milieu des discours
complaisants, les Algérois lors de cette rafle avaient sans doute surtout entendu ces mots
inquiétants : « À présent il m ’est permis de vous exécuter tous. » Sous le masque inquié­
tant de Raminagrobis, c ’est une politique de terreur que menait Hayreddin, plus politique
et efficace qu’un massacre. Tout en jouant de la menace, il se posait en défenseur des
citadins contre la violence aveugle de ses compagnons turcs. Pour autant, comme le
rappellent les Gazavat, c ’est désormais la méfiance qui régna. Pour qu’il pût revenir le
bienvenu, il fallut apparemment que les Algérois subissent la tyrannie d’un autre maître
pendant quelques années.
Une catégorie sociale particulièrement importante est celle des hommes de religion,
oulémas et marabouts, que le chroniqueur a tendance à mélanger ou pour le moins à
juxtaposer. Je ne reviendrai pas sur ce que j ’ai déjà dit, en me fondant sur H. Touati, sur
l’attitude naturellement conciliante avec le pouvoir des oulémas malékites de la région,
ni sur leur collaboration avec les frères Barberousse qui les consultaient et leur deman­
daient des fetva. Un autre élément essentiel est le rôle d ’intermédiaire des hommes de
religion, phénomène bien connu et quasi institutionnel dans la région94. Ainsi, quand le
marabout A faf bin Abdallah intervint en faveur d ’Abdallah de Tlemcen, Hayreddin ne
pouvait pas refuser de lui prêter une oreille attentive95. En effet, c ’était « un très saint
homme et un homme de science. Ce marabout jouissait de beaucoup d ’estime, de sympa­
thie et de respect de la part de Son Excellence Hayreddin Bey, qui l’appréciait beaucoup
en raison de sa pieuse droiture. S’il sollicitait quelque chose de Hayreddin Bey, un mot

93 01 cemaatin içine kariçub ortalarinda oturub andan sonra ba$ kaldirub ve dehan küçade kilub
sôze agaz edüb ayitdi kim ya ashabuna bu etdiginiz iç ne asil içdir ve bu kildigimz fi 7 ne
fi'ldürve bu gôrdügünüz maslahat dahi ne maslahatdir kim biz sizlere ne eyledik ve ne yara-
maz kâr etdik ve ne kemlik eyledik kim sizler bu asil bedkârlik edersiz kim biz sizlere bu kadar
yoldafiiklar edüb sizi heb bir nice âdadan kurryub ve kurtardik ve bir niçenize dahi enva üzre
nice nice eyülükler dahi eyledik anlarin ivazi bu mudur kim sizler bu asil nâ-ma ‘kul vaz eder­
siz ve sizlere lâyik bu degil mi idi kim bu asil vaktimizde bize bir nice yoldafiiklar eyleye idi-
niz sizler bizim olanca yoldafiarimizi kirub bizi çehirden çikarub avare etmek dilersiz bunun
ash nedir ve bu kâr-i nâ-seza lâyik midir uçda fimdiki halde sizlerin heb katli dahi bana helâl
olmuçdur ya ben sizleri nice edeyin (115 v°-116 r°).
94 Cf. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale, t. Il, pp. 338-339 ; Touati, Entre Dieu et les hommes,
pp. 107 sq., 129 ; T. Shuval, La ville d ’Alger vers la fin duXVUle siècle (Paris 1988), pp. 120-
121.
95 93 v°-95 v°.
412 N IC O L A S VATIN

suffisait : il n ’était pas nécessaire de le répéter96. » À plusieurs reprises, on voit ainsi les
potentats indigènes passer par des marabouts pour proposer un arrangement ou un retour
à la paix97. Et tout naturellement ce sont les hommes de religion qui viennent au devant
de Hayreddin alors qu’il s’approche pour s’emparer de Tunis : « les hatib, les imams,
les savants, les saints personnages et les marabouts se rassemblèrent tous, au nombre
de 5 à 10 000, vinrent au devant de lui et à sa rencontre, lui manifestèrent des marques
d’honneur et de respect et, multipliant les signes de soumission envers Son Excellence le
fortuné padichah, ils se placèrent devant lui et le menèrent dans la ville98. »
De son côté, Hayreddin lui aussi se sert des oulémas. Averti du complot qui se trame
contre lui à Alger, il convoque « le mufti, le cadi, le hatib, les imams, les témoins, bref
tous les principaux oulémas de la ville99 » et il leur demande de se rendre auprès des
comploteurs pour les ramener à la raison :

Allez donc auprès d’eux. Les compagnons que voici vous accompagneront et vous montre­
ront la maison. Mais ils ne doivent pas se faire voir en entrant avec vous, car cela provoquerait
aussitôt des troubles. Vous irez vous ; vous leur direz qu’ils sont découverts et vous leur con­
seillerez de renoncer désormais à cette mauvaise action. Pour moi, je leur pardonne leur faute
et les tiens quittes de leur crime. Sermonnez-les et dites-leur bien que c’est de la traîtrise et que
ce genre d’entreprise est voué à l’échec, que tout ceci est du vent et ce qui vole au vent finit par
disparaître ; demandez-leur quel est le fondement de cette révolte et qui en est à l’origine, et
ramenez-les à de meilleurs sentiments100.

On aura noté le fait que les soldats turcs ne devaient pas se montrer : les oulémas
seuls pouvaient s’interposer, dans un moment aussi délicat, du fait même de leur position
d ’intermédiaires et de défenseurs du peuple. Ce rôle tout particulier de protecteur et de
dispensateur d’asile apparaît un peu plus tard, après l’échec du soulèvement qui eut lieu
malgré leur intervention : certains des insurgés, en effet « s’engouffrèrent dans les ora­

toires et cherchèrent la protection des marabouts, des oulémas, des saints personnages et
des notables101. »

96 Gayetle aziz ve ehl-i ilm kimesne idi mezkûr murabit Hayreddin Begyamnda hayli hürmeti ve
ragbeti var idi salihligi cihetinden mezkûr murabiti Hayreddin Beg Hazretleri gayetle severdi
her ne kim Hayreddin Begden dilese bir sôzi iki olmaz idi (93 v°).
97 105 r°, 145 r°-v°, 203 r°.
98 Çehre giderken çehrin hatibleri ve imamlari ve âlimleri ve azizleri ve murabitlari cümle cem
olub beij on bin mikdan kimesneler olub kar$i gelüb ve istikbal edüb izzet ve ikr[am] eyleyüb
devletlü padiçah hazretlerine dahi enva-i mütâbi ‘atlar (sic) gôsterüb ônüne düçüb alub çehre
getürdiler (235 r°).
99 Çehrin müftisin ve kadisin ve hatibin ve imamlarin ve çühudlarin ve bi 'l-cümle ayan-i ulemasin
kigirdub cem edüb (112 r°).
100 îmdi varm sizlere bu yoldaçlar hem yoldaç olsunlar ve hem ol evi gôsteriversinler anlar am-
ma içeri bile varub anlara gôrünmesinler kim el ’ân fitneye bais olur ve hem sizler varub an-
lara eyle den kim usjda tuyuldunuz gelin çimden geri bu bed amelden feragat edin (112 v°).
101 Kimileri dahi mescidlere düçüb ve murabitlara ve âlimlere ve azizlere ve ekâbirlere düçüb
(114 r°).
 LE PO U V O IR DES B A R B ER O U SSE
413

Enfin les hommes de religion jouissent d ’un droit d ’adresse, d ’admonestation du

prince102. C ’est ainsi que, s’entremettant en faveur d ’Abdallah de Tlemcen, A faf bin Ab­
dallah déjà évoqué n ’hésite pas à dire à Hayreddin très réticent : « Si tu as le pouvoir de
le faire sortir d ’entre les mécréants et que tu ne le fais pas, avec cette conséquence qu’il
sera pour toujours mécréant, alors il est certain que tu en subiras les tristes suites et que
tu en porteras aussi le péché103. » De même, dans les graves circonstances que je viens
d ’évoquer, quand le souverain les interroge sur une conspiration en cours, ils se per­
mettent d ’abord un rappel à l’équité (sinon même à la loi) et lui font savoir que la siyaset
a ses limites : « Nous n ’étions pas au courant de pareilles actions et vilenies. Des gens de
science et des croyants ne se livrent pas à ce genre d ’affaires inconvenantes. [Mais] qu’en
est-il d ’eux ? L’information fournie par une seule source peut être vraie comme fausse. Il
faut d ’abord enquêter à leur sujet104. »
Force est donc de constater que Hayreddin a besoin des oulémas et marabouts pour
assurer son pouvoir local et que, de ce fait, loin de les contrôler, il leur reconnaît un rôle
social et politique essentiel typique de la région. Ajoutons que cette collaboration n’est
pas dépourvue d ’ambiguïté, ni toujours assurée. À Constantine, une partie des oulémas
semble être restée fidèle aux Hafsides105. À Alger, la manière dont Hayreddin utilise leurs
services pour tenter d ’étouffer la révolte dans l’œ uf montre pour le moins une certaine
méfiance : les principaux oulémas sont convoqués en pleine nuit dans sa résidence, ce
qui ressemble à une arrestation à peine déguisée, et accueillis par des propos assez mena­
çants :

Nobles personnes, il paraît que les cheikhs - c’est à dire les kethüda - des quartiers de la ville
se sont réunis et veulent se lancer dans des actions déraisonnables et inconvenantes. Êtes-vous
au courant ? Êtes-vous complices ? Ou bien est-ce qu’ils ont pris sur eux de se rebeller contre
leurs chefs106 ?

C ’est donc par la terreur qu’il s’assure leur collaboration forcée, ce qui amène à voir
sous un autre jour la question des soldats qui doivent, sans se faire voir, les m ener jusqu’à
la maison des conjurés. Nul doute que les oulémas auraient su la trouver seuls. C ’est donc
qu’on les surveille. Du reste, lors de la rafle de la grande mosquée qui suivit l’échec de la
révolte, ils faisaient partie de la population rassemblée et menacée.
Quelles que soient les qualités politiques de Hayreddin, son pouvoir au sein de la po­
pulation locale, aussi bien dans l’arrière-pays qu’en ville, peut donc paraître fragile. Pour

102 Cf. Touati, Entre Dieu et les hommes, p. 108.

103 Ve eger him siz anm küjfar içinden ihracina kadir olasin dahi ihrac etmeyesiz ol kadar nefs-i
ebedî kâfir ola mukarrerdir kim siz vebale girürsiz ve günahkâr dahi olursuz (95 r°).
104 Hâça ve kellâ ki bizim bu asl-i efa l ü kabihadan haberimiz ola deyü bu asl-i kâr-i nâ-sezayi
ehl-i ilimler ve m ü’minler etmezler gôrün anlann dahi hâlleri nedir ve haber-i vahidin sidka
ve kizbe ihtimali vardir hele anlar dahi ewel bir gôrilsin (112 r°-v°).
105 Cf. Touati, Entre Dieu et les hommes, p. 74.
106 Azizler bu çehrin mahallesinin çeyhleriyani kethüdalari cem ‘iyet edüb ba ‘zi nâ-ma ‘kul ve nâ-
seza i$ etmek dilerler imi$ imdi sizlerin dahi bu içden haberi var midir ve ittifaki bile midir
yohsa anlar baçka bailor ma baç mi çekerler (112 r°).
414 N IC O L A S VATIN

le conforter, il avait besoin d ’une force sûre et fidèle, autrement dit extérieure au pays.
Ici encore, il n ’était pas dans une situation différente des potentats locaux. La différence
est que, étranger lui-même, c ’est sur les siens qu’il comptait, sur ses camarades turcs, ses
yolda§. Encore fallait-il qu’ils fussent fidèles et en nombre suffisant. Cela impliquait le
succès. Aussi les corsaires turcs de Djerba ne se pressèrent-ils pas pour répondre à ses
appels à l’aide alors qu’il était assiégé à Alger : « c’était sans effet : ils ne venaient pas
et ne voulaient pas venir107. » Par la suite, retiré à Djidjelli, il réussit à en attirer auprès
de lui, mais on découvre au détour d ’une phrase que ce ne fut pas sans mal : « Quand il
les eut bien caressés et eut fait se dissiper leurs réticences, ils se rassemblèrent à nouveau
tous autour de lui et le rejoignirent108. »
Même avec ses plus proches camarades, il fallait composer. On a vu qu’ils souhai­
taient répondre à la révolte des Algérois par une répression violente. Adepte d ’une ré­
ponse plus subtile, Hayreddin n ’obtint d ’eux qu’un accord réticent : « Par Dieu, cette
affaire est de votre ressort et n ’est confiée qu’à vous. Mais vous être une personne noble
et miséricordieuse. Si vous leur accordez l'aman, ce sont, eux, des malfaisants : à la fin
ils pourraient bien attaquer nos maisons et provoquer un malheur109. » Mais quand il ten­
ta ensuite de les convaincre d ’épargner les 160 meneurs finalement arrêtés, ils éclatèrent :

“Voilà ce que nous avions prévu : vous leur accordez miséricorde et pardon. Mais nous n’en
sommes pas d’accord, car si maintenant, sans tenir compte de cette malfaisance qu’ils ont mon­
trée ni montrer une constante prudence, vous relâchez ces gens-là, ils feront pire une autre fois.
Quel sera notre sort alors ?” Ils insistaient fortement, tenant de tels propos, chacun poussant
des clameurs et criant : “Nous ne consentons pas à pareille paix avec eux ! Nos cœurs n’en sont
pas contents110 !”

Cette fois les propos sont violents et le respect pour le chef est mis à mal. On en est
venu à l’épreuve de force et Hayreddin ne peut plus se contenter de discours conciliateurs
et rassurants, ni de faire appel à leur bon cœur en pleurant111. Il doit maintenant lâcher
du lest : il désigne vingt meneurs, qu’il abandonne au bras vengeur de ses compagnons,
tandis qu’il relâche les 140 autres individus retenus. Pour ses yoldaç, c’est un pis-aller
dont ils se contentent, mais en grognant : « ils passèrent un peu leur colère en exécutant

107 Çare olmazdi ve gelmezler idi ve gelmek dahi istemezler idi ( 119 v°).
108 Ve anlari nevaht edicek anlarin dahi hicabi r e f olub yine heb ana dirkenüb [sic pour dirlen-
üb?J yanina geldiler (126 r°).
109 Bi ’l-hak bu émir sizlerindir ve ancak sizlere müveffazdir amma siz bir kerim ve rahim kimes-
nesiz anlarayine aman veresiz anlar hod müfsidlerdir ve âkibet bizim evimiz basdurub bir ha-
saret etdireler (115 r°).
110 imdi bizim size ewelden dedigimiz budur kim siz anlara rahm edüb aman verirsiz biz razi
olmaziz zira kim çimdi anlar içbu asil müfsidlik eger sen tinmayub ve ebedî mukayyed ol-
mayub koyuverirsen anlar bir de dahi ziyade ederler ol vaktin bizim halimiz nice olur deyüb
ziyade ikdam edüb ve her biriferyad edicek ve biz bunun bigi sulha bunlarinla kail degiliz ve
kalbimiz dahi ho$ olmaz (118 r°-v°).
111 118 r°.
 LE PO U V O IR DES B A R B ER O U SSE 415

comme ils l’entendaient ces vingt rebelles qui leur avaient été remis, qui étaient apparus
passibles de mort et dont il s’imposait selon \a.$eriatet le kanun de s ’en débarrasser112. »
Légalement, la mise à mort des rebelles était donc justifiée. Le débat entre Hayreddin
et ses compagnons était donc politique : les choix du chef, qui paraissaient dangereux
pour la survie du groupe, étaient contestés. Il n ’avait d ’autre choix que de composer. En
l’occurrence, un compromis acceptable fut en effet trouvé, mais ce débat montre que la
fidélité des compagnons avait elle aussi ses limites. Il y avait bien entendu le risque pour
que certains tentassent leur chance et se lançassent dans une aventure individuelle, tel
Kara Hasan qui avait entraîné avec lui les troupes qui lui avaient été confiées. La leçon
ne fut pas oubliée puisque partant rejoindre Soliman en 1533 en laissant pour lieutenant
à Alger son esclave Hasan, Hayreddin jugea prudent d’assurer un certain équilibre des
pouvoirs, disant aux cheikhs et marabouts : « je vous confie la personne que je laisse
à ma place. Ne manquez pas d’avoir l’œil sur lui113 jusqu’à mon retour114. » Mais sans
même qu’il soit question de trahison, les objectifs, donc la conduite de Hayreddin qui
voulait être roi ne coïncidaient pas nécessairement avec ceux de ses compagnons d ’aven­
ture. Alors cette force même pouvait se déliter. Tel était précisément le cas quand il se
résigna à livrer Alger à ibn el-Kazi :

Quant à ses propres compagnons sur place, ils se partageaient en trois groupes. Les premiers
lui étaient dévoués corps et âmes et prêts à mourir en suivant sa voie. Les deuxièmes, au vu des
mauvais traitements et des difficultés qu’ils rencontraient [à Alger] et des séditions et désordres
qui s’y produisaient tous les jours, avaient pris le pays en dégoût et en horreur et s’en étaient
totalement détachés : s’il avait été en leur pouvoir d’en partir, ils l’auraient quitté sur l’heure et
s’en seraient allés, mais ils y demeuraient par force. Enfin les troisièmes étaient devenus pères
de famille, s’étaient mêlés à la population du pays et ne pouvaient pas quitter les leurs : par
nécessité, ils n’avaient d’autre choix que de rester et de faire allégeance à quiconque viendrait
s’imposer comme souverain de l’endroit ; ils n’avaient pas d’échappatoire115*120.

112 Veyoldaçlar dahi varub ol ellerine verilen yigirmi nefer vacibü 'l-katl olub ve münfek olmalari
’bi-hasbi ’ç-çer ve ’l-kanun lâzim olan tagileri diledikleri bigi heb katl edüb bir az ôykelerin
aldilar{ 119r°).
113 Gôzlen : faut-il comprendre qu’ils doivent le surveiller, ou le protéger ? Sans doute les deux à
la fois...
114 Imdi bu yerime kodugum kimesnenin emanetin sizlere ismarladim imdi gafil olman bu
kimesneyi onat gôzlen ben yine gelince (213 r°).
115 Ve anda olan yoldaçlar dahi üç bôlük olub taraf taraf oldilar bir bôlügü kendiye bin can ü
dilden mütabaat edüb yolunda ôlmege mailler idiler ve bir bôlügü dahi anda olan hakareti
ve musibeti gôrüb ve her gün olan fitneyi ve açubi gôrüb ol memleketden yigrenüb ve uçanub
ve bi ’l-cümle el çekmiçler idiler ve eger kim ellerinden gele idi ol saat birakub giderler idiler
amma zaruretden tururlar idi ve bir bôlügü dahi ehl-i vyal olub ve ol vilâyet halki ile muh-
telit olub anlan koyub gitmege kadir olmayub bi ’z-zaruri oturub her kim gelüb ol yerde hâ-
kim olurlarsa anlara mütabaat etmekden gayri çareleri kalmayub mecalleri yok idi (119 v°-
120 r°). Murphey, « Seyyid Murad’s prose biography », pp. 525-526, qui cite notamment ce
même passage, a évoqué avant moi les difficultés rencontrées par Hayreddin dans ses relations
avec les Turcs, que ce soient les corsaires ou ses propres compagnons.
416 N IC O L A S VATIN

* * *

Au total, dans la quinzaine d ’années que couvre principalement l’étude qui précède, le
pouvoir des Barberousse à Alger paraît bien fragile. La légitimité ottomane de Hayred-
din, sur laquelle insiste naturellement l’auteur des Gazavat, tient surtout du discours de
propagande à l’intention d ’un public ottoman et ne semble guère avoir de prise sur les
réalités locales. La justice et la bienveillance du souverain sont assurément essentielles,
mais ne suffiraient pas par elles-mêmes : c’est le succès, le fait même de tenir le pouvoir
qui légitimait le pouvoir du corsaire devenu roi.
Légitimité fragile, qu’un renversement de situation pouvait à tout moment mettre à
mal.
Dans ces conditions, ce fut sans doute un choix judicieux que de se raccrocher à la
puissance ottomane, quitte à perdre son indépendance si le sultan d’Istanbul décidait de
s’approprier la conquête qu’on lui offrait. Mais, sur place, tout en s’imposant par la force,
il fallait composer avec la réalité sociale du terrain, jouer les uns contre les autres, accep­
ter des compromis, renoncer à être un autocrate tout puissant et même renoncer à imposer
un modèle - à supposer du reste qu’il se soit agi'là d ’une volonté des Barberousse et non
d ’une présentation tendancieuse des faits par leur biographe. Assurément, l’arrivée des
Barberousse au Maghreb fut à l’origine de changements politiques et sociaux impor­
tants. Mais pour autant, ce qui frappe à la lecture des Gazavat, c ’est surtout la façon dont
Hayreddin sut se couler dans les modèles locaux et, plus que son frère ou ses compa­
gnons, chercha à s’acclimater. Il fallait aussi éviter de se diluer, de fonder une dynastie
de petits potentats locaux pareils à ceux contre qui il s ’était imposé. Pour cela, conserver
une identité turque et ottomane était sans doute essentiel.
Plus essentiel encore, bien entendu, était le soutien divin, qui donne la victoire au hé­
ros auquel il a accordé un destin d ’exception. Les Gazavat reviennent à maintes reprises
sur ce thème, soit par l’affirmation de cette destinée manifeste, soit en montrant Hayred­
din, qui était un grand rêveur, demander et obtenir des conseils de Dieu et du Prophète.
Rien d ’étonnant assurément dans un Gazavatnâme. Mais c’est l’occasion de rappeler
à quel point l’établissement des Turcs ottomans au Maghreb fut d’abord une aventure
individuelle, dont la réussite est due à la personnalité des frères Barberousse, à l’audace
d ’Oruç et à l’intelligence politique de Hayreddin.
 ATPAZARÎ SEYYÎD OSMAN FAZLI AS PORTRAYED
IN TEMÂMÜE-FEYZ:
SUFI TEXT’S RELEVANCE TO POLITICS
IN LATE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY ISTANBUL

E u n je o n g Y T

S ufi tex ts c o m pr ise a g e n r e of literature which is probably one o f the least utilised
sources in research on Ottoman political history. Certainly, their value is equivocal. On
the one hand, we often underestimate the political influence o f the Sufis who belonged to
urban Sunni orders;'on the other, however, Sufi literature is so venerating o f their §eyhs
that it may easily exaggerate or distort historical facts, and its incorporation o f myster­
ies and miracles makes it hard to take seriously. In addition, it may be saturated with Sufi
concepts which are often deployed ironically or opaquely, and sometimes written in Ara­
bic, making them difficult to decipher for researchers who are primarily accustomed to
Ottoman Turkish (including the present author). It is no wonder, then, that such literature
has largely remained the tu rf o f Sufism experts who focus primarily on religious ideas,
the development o f orders, and their followings in wider society.
Temâmü 'l-Feyz (‘Perfect Overflow’, hereafter TF), by Ismail HakkiBursevî (d. 1725),
may be ju st the kind o f valuable Sufi work that is commonly overlooked by the Ottoman
historian interested in the politics o f the seventeenth and eighteenth century.2 This is a
weighty Sufi treatise (consisting o f more than 300 folios), written in Arabic and graced
with ample Sufi philosophising and anecdotes o f miracles; it covers such topics as the
meaning o f Sufi orders, Sufi training and manners, and the genealogy of the Celveti order
to which its author belonged. Among other things, however, the details it provides of the*

* Department of Asian History (and Department of Asian Languages and Civilizations), Seoul
National University.
1 Cf. A. Yaçar Ocak, ‘Sufi Milieux and Political Authority in Turkish History: A General Over­
view (Thirteenth-Seventeenth centuries)’, in P. L. Heck (ed.), Sufism and Politics: The Power
o f Spirituality (Princeton 2007), 168.
2 For a critical edition and general overview of this book, two MA theses from Marmara Uni­
versity are very helpful. The dissertations divide the text of Temâmü 7- Feyz into two parts:
R. Muslu, ‘ismail Hakki Bursevi ve Temâmü’l- Feyz Adh Eseri (Birinci Kisim)’, unpublished
M.A. thesis, Istanbul Marmara University, 1994 covers from the beginning to Chapter 13, and
A. Namli, ‘ismail Hakki Bursevi ve Temâmü’l-Feyz Adh Eseri (tkinci Kisim), unpublished
M.A. thesis, Istanbul Marmara University, 1994, covers from Chapter 14 to Chapter 17.
418 BU N JB O N G YI

life and deeds o f Atpazan Seyyid Osman Fazli, Ismail Hakki’s §eyh, afford a rare insight
into the intersection between Istanbul politics and Sufi religious authorities. Given the
arguably huge religious clout some Sufis commanded through their ‘miracles’,3 Sufis
did have political leverage, and the account given in TF is uniquely valuable in helping
us understand how such spiritual power could operate in the arena o f politics. TF inad­
vertently sheds light on what common people - the ‘people o f the marketplace’ - said
and did, and gives a clue regarding the composition o f the urban followers o f the zorbas
(rebellious soldiers). The account reveals many unexpected sides to Atpazan Seyyid Os­
man Fazli that belie our expectations o f a Celveti Sufi whose tarikat was reputed to be a
moderate and pliant urban order centred on Istanbul.
Ismail Hakki, the author o f TF, was one o f the most prolific authors o f Ottoman Sufi
literature, and some o f his works circulated very widely.4 Given that TF was composed
by a disciple o f Seyyid Osman, there is an issue o f how impartially the §eyh is repre­
sented therein; addressing this, however, is beyond the scope o f the present paper. What
is clear, however, is that this account o f the life and deeds o f the §eyh was considered to
be rather important, at least in some circles. Ismail Hakki devotes many chapters (Chap­
ters 8 to 14 out o f 17 chapters in all)5 to the details o f Seyyid Osman’s life. In his much
shorter and simpler account o f Seyyid Osman’s life in Silsilename-yi Celveti, he indicates
that there is a fuller account in TF,6 nudging the interested reader in that direction. Given
that there are at least ten manuscripts scattered across various libraries and that it was still
being copied and read well into the second decade o f the nineteenth century, it clearly
enjoyed a high reputation for quite a long period.7 Had it been written in Ottoman Turk­
ish, it would have drawn more attention in the central Ottoman lands. Derin Terzioglu’s
recent article on ilm-i hal literature o f the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries mentions
the emergence o f a second-tier reading public whose knowledge o f Arabic was negligi­
ble.8 There were probably good reasons why Ismail Hakki wrote about his revered but
controversial §eyh in Arabic. As will be clear in the sections which follow, he contrasts
Seyyid Osman’s virtues with Kôprülüzade Fazil M ustafa’s greed, which may well have

3 The most prominent example is the Celveti Sufi saint Aziz Mahmud Hüdayî (d. 1628), who had
a reputation for numerous miracles. He was extremely successful in building connections with
the cream of the elite and was often consulted by the Sultans. His lodge in Üsküdar was used
by endangered statesmen as a safe haven. For details, see H. K. Yilmaz, Azîz Mahmûd Hüdâyî
ve Celvetiyye Tarikati (Istanbul, c. 1980).
4 For general information about ismail Hakki, see TDVIA, s.v. ‘ismâil Hakki Bursevî’ (M. M.
Yurtsever, Y. Ç. Yavuz and C. Karadaç); and M. A. Ayni, Turk Azizleri, Vol. I: Ismail Hakki:
Bursali ve Ruhü’l-Beyan Miiellifi (Istanbul 1944). For the reception of his books, see M. Kara,
Metinlerle Osmanlilarda Tasawuf ve Tarikatlar (Istanbul 2004), 231-232.
5 The last chapter of TF is also devoted to the description of Hakki’s seven visits to his §eyh.
6 Silsilename-yi Celveti, Siileymaniye Library, Çazeli Tekkesi Nos 63, fols 49a and 50a.
7 Muslu, ‘ismail Hakki (Birinci Kisim)’, 32-34.
8 D. Terzioglu, ‘Where ilm-i Hal Meets Catechism: Islamic Manuals of Religious Instruction in
the Ottoman Empire in the Age of Confessionalization’, Past and Present, 220 (2013) 84, 90,
96-97.
 ATPAZA RÎ SE Y Y ÎD O SM A N FA ZLI A S PO R TR A Y ED IN T E M Â M Ü ’L - F E Y Z 419

been a minority opinion as the latter was hugely popular among men o f the marketplace.
O f the known manuscripts, I used the one kept at the Süleymaniye Library (Halet Efendi
244) for citation. Although not the oldest extant manuscript,9 it is neatly handwritten and
easy to read, and moreover states that it was copied from Ismail Hakki’s original, now
lost, in H .1234/1819.101

Seyyid O s m a n h i s character and influence

‘AtpazarT Seyyid Osman Fazlx (d. 1102/1691 ) is not an easily definable Sufi. He was bom
in §umnu in today’s Bulgaria to a seyyid family. He joined the Celveti order in Edime
at the age o f 17, and later moved to Istanbul, finding a satisfactory §eyh in the person of
Zakirzade Abdullah Efendi, and finally settling down to be his disciple. As Zakirzade did
not teach ‘exoteric knowledge’ (al- ‘ulüm al-zâhir), he learnt it from a separate teacher
on his own.12 From early on, it was very clear that he did not just follow the trends o f his
order, but lived according to his own judgement. Towards the end o f his life, multiple
crises beset the Empire, and there he stood out as a preacher and communicator.13
Perhaps Seyyid Osman was a relative outsider and freewheeler within the moderate
and quiet Celveti orbit.14 Although he generally conformed to the Celveti principles of
recognising the importance o f sharia15 and admiring the works and deeds o f Aziz Mahmud
Hüdayî,16 one can observe from the text o f TF that Seyyid Osman had a forceful personal-

9 The oldest is Istanbul Atatürk Kitaphgi, Osman Ergin No. 530, which was copied in 1703. Al­
though Muslu says the oldest is No. 523, this seems to be a mistake.
10 TF 324b, see the colophon at the bottom. Ramazan Muslu and Ali Namh in their theses used a
manuscript copied in 1703 and currently kept at Atatürk Kitaphgi as their base text.
11 There is no good biography of him to date except for the encyclopedia entry in TDVIA, s.v. ‘At-
pazari Osman Fazli’ (S. Yildiz). Ayni, TiirkAzizleri, 15-59 does give a rather detailed account
of Seyyid Osman’s life, but it is not very accurate or analytical.
12 TF90a-b, 105b.
13 Madeline Zilfi, ‘The Kadizadelis: Discordant Revivalism in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul’,
Journal o f Near Eastern Studies, 45 ( 1986), 265, mentions him as one of the prominent preach­
ers who vilified secular officials after the sudden decline of the Kadizadelis’ influence after
1683.
14 For the moderate and sober style of Celveti ceremonies, see Ô. T. inançer, ‘Osmanli Tarihinde
Sufilik Àyïn ve Erkânlan’, in A. Y. Ocak (ed.), Osmanli Toplumunda Tasawuf ve Sufiler (An­
kara 2005), 119, 125. The Celveti order’s reputation for being moderate seems to have been
borne out by the fact that most of its çeyhs stayed away from controversies and politics during
the ascendancy of Vani Efendi. See D. Terzioglu, ‘Sufi and Dissident in the Ottoman Empire:
Niyazi-i Misri’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 1999,254. TF almost nev­
er mentions Seyyid Osman’s relations to Celveti Sufis other than his own §eyhs. Hakki once
complained to him about some Bursan Celvetis’ practices such as whirling and dancing, to
which the çeyh answered, “Men of eloquence and men of monotheism \tawhid\ have become
few” (TF 275b), which may indicate that he was dissatisfied with most other Celvetis.
15 “As the skin of a fruit protects the seed, [...] the exoteric clothes the esoteric. [...] One who
does not abide by Sharia cannot attain the true religion” (TF 117a).
16 TF 129a, 244b, 274a, among others.
420 EU N JEO N G YI

ity and did not shy away from confrontation. He would suggest ideas, often unsolicited,
and voice criticism o f government policies when he deemed it necessary. According to
TF, he was the first man o f religion who agreed to the dethronement o f Mehmed IV when
secret plans for this began to be laid,17 and according to §eyhî he meddled in some uniden­
tified important affairs at the enthronement o f Sultan Süleyman II.18 In sum, he was an in­
teresting character who combined the legitimacy o f a moderate and established Sufi order
with a strong inclination towards public action. With his often confrontational behaviour,
it was not uncommon for him to earn the hostility o f certain ulema and statesmen.19
His actions seem to have stemmed from a self-confidence rooted in his mystical vi­
sions and ‘miracles’ (keramet). TF is sprinkled with stories o f miracles worked by Seyyid
Osman, as well as by Sufis o f earlier times. The miracle stories are often o f his visions,
dreams, and prognostications o f the future. One such anecdote, however, demonstrates
his rather passionate character: once, in a mosque o f a hanekah at the time o f morn­
ing prayer, he was suddenly seized by ecstasy and took off his clothes to manifest the
“freedom” (tajarrud)20 o f Abraham, which he had lately come to understand. The people
around him locked him up with his hands and feet bound, thinking he was mad, but mi­
raculously the chains were loosened, the locked door was opened, and he rejoined the
prayer.21 As shown in this anecdote, he seems to have been a man o f action, eager to help
people high and low with what he ‘knew’, and to get across his ideas. So outspoken was
he that his unsolicited or blunt advice often fell on deaf ears. Kara Mustafa Pasha ignored
his letter to the effect that the Ottomans should not start a war with the Habsburgs,22
although Seyyid Osman’s reputation was elevated for this presaging o f a disaster which
was to be remembered later as the failed siege o f Vienna in 1683. His newly earned repu­
tation got him invited to the Edime residence o f Mehmed IV, where the Sultan did not
mend his pleasure-seeking lifestyle despite the seyh’s repeated harangues. His dangerous
statements once had him banished to his home town in Bulgaria.23
At any rate, he established enough o f a reputation as a Sufi §eyh with spiritual knowl­
edge that he came to be consulted by some o f the statesmen o f the day. TF surely exag­
gerates the scale o f his influence, as he is cast in a very reverent light by his disciple, but
we may reasonably believe the claim that he had impressed the high-ranking ulema and

17 TF 133b.
18 Çeyhî Mehmed Efendi, ‘Vekayiü’l-Fudalâ’, in A. Ôzcan (ed.), §akaik-i Nu ’maniye ve Zeyilleri,
Vol. 4 (Istanbul 1989), 90.
19 While he was still an unknown figure in Filibe and in Istanbul (TF 98a-100b), he was often
criticised and scorned by ulema who did not like his manners and his passion for Ibn al-Arabi’s
works. One of the accusations was that he had too many wives and concubines, in defence of
which TF 106b says that this was in the tradition of the ancient prophets.
20 In TDVlA, s.v. ‘Mücerred’ (S. Uludag), Uludag explains that this is a state of being rid of any
outer covering and having reached the essence, which is one of the cherished virtues within
Sufi circles.
21 TF 128b-129b.
22 TF 148a.
23 TF 149a.
 ATPAZA RÎ SE Y Y ÎD O SM A N FA ZLI AS PO RTRA Y ED IN T E M À M Ü ’L - F E Y Z 421

Kôprülü viziers, beginning with Fazil Ahmed, and was able to mobilise their support to
silence his enemies. It is unclear to what extent Mehmed Kôprülü’s son-in-law Siyavuç
Pasha (d. 1688) or Kôprülüzade Fazil M ustafa Pasha (d. 1691) sought his advice.24 Al­
though he was not successful in getting his advice accepted, he at least maintained a cer­
tain standing which enabled him to raise his voice and address the ruling circle. Çeyhî’s
aforementioned comment that he meddled in important affairs at the enthronement o f
Sultan Süleyman II would seem to indicate that he was invited to the state ceremony.
While the chronicle o f San M ehmed Pasha depicts him in an extremely venerating
tone, other chronicles - such as Silahdar’s - relate anecdotes about him more matter-of-
factly.25 The part o f M ehmed Raçid’s T a rih -i R a s id covering the late seventeenth century
follows San M ehm ed’s Z ü b d e -i V ek a yiâ t almost word for word, but its perception of the
$eyh is much more reserved and conscious o f conflicting views about him.26 It is likely
that views on the § eyh differed from person to person among the elite.
Aside from his reputation among the Istanbul elite, which was at best fluctuating,
among his followers he apparently commanded the heartfelt veneration that is expressed
in TF, and this was especially true after his superb role as a go-between with demonstra­
tors and the palace during the turmoil o f 1688. Ismail Hakki’s view is expressed in the
following words in the course o f the description o f the event: “God has made him the
centre o f the order o f the world” (fa 'alah u m a d â r n izâ m a m r a l- 'à la m ).27 Fie was also
referred to as the q u tb (the foremost Sufi saint), and was likened to the prophets and
saints o f olden times.28

The upheaval in Istanbul and Seyyid Osman s double-edged role

As I have discussed the 1688 uprising o f Istanbul civilians elsewhere, with a focus on the
artisans o f Istanbul,291 here only give the briefest o f sketches regarding the events, before
turning to focus on the differences between the accounts given in other sources and that
in TF. In the earlier article, which aimed to reconstruct the progression o f the events, I
did not differentiate between the sources that describe the role o f the § eyh in different but
complementary ways.

24 Kôprülüzade Fazil Mustafa Pasha is supposed to have requested a dream interpretation from
Seyyid Osman in which the latter foretold that he would become a Grand Vizier, although it
would take some time. See TF 152b.
25 See San Mehmet Paça, Zübde-i Vekayiât, ed. A. Ôzcan (Ankara 1995), 308-310, 365, 386,
where San Mehmet Paça calls him ‘kutbii ’1-ârifhT. In contrast, Silahdar Mehmed Aga does not
show much interest in his person, although he gives many details of what the $eyh did during
the uprising of Istanbul artisans (Silahdar Tarihi, Vol. 2 [Istanbul 1928], 337 ff).
26 See Mehmed Raçid, Tarih-i Raçid, Vol. 2 (Istanbul 1865) 64, 123, 147.
27 TF 133a.
28 TF 106b.
29 E. Yi, ‘Artisans’ Networks and Revolt in Late Seventeenth-Century Istanbul: An Examination
of the Istanbul Artisans’ Rebellion of 1688’, in E. Gara et al. (eds), Popular Protest and Politi­
cal Participation in the Ottoman Empire (Istanbul 2011), 105-126.
422 EU N JEO N G YI

The years following the failed siege o f Vienna brought about a series o f disasters. The
Viziers who replaced the Kôprülüs were inept and corrupt, and the series o f military de­
feats continued while the financial squeeze intensified. As the battles wore on, the unpaid
and angry soldiers on the northern front rose up in the autumn o f 1687, driving the fright­
ened Grand Vizier Siileyman Pasha in flight from the battlefield to Istanbul. Although
Sultan Mehmed IV desperately tried to appease them with the execution o f Siileyman
Pasha, the rebels marched on Istanbul. They practically seized the city and established
a ‘zorba regime’, replacing the Sultan with his brother Prince Siileyman and having
Siyavuç Pasha, who had returned from the front, appointed as Grand Vizier. The new
Sultan and Viziers were unable to put an end to the unruly behaviour o f the underpaid
soldiers, who repeatedly pillaged the marketplace. As disorder in Istanbul continued over
the course o f about four months, there were attempts, masterminded by Kôprülüzade
Mustafa Pasha and half-heartedly supported by Siyavus Pasha, to get rid o f the zorba
leaders.30 The counter-attacks by the zorbas, however, were vicious: they murdered the
newly appointed Janissary commander Harputlu Ali and completely destroyed the house­
hold o f the rather conflicted Siyavuç Pasha, hacking the Vizier to pieces.
When it seemed that all hopes o f crushing the zorbas were completely dashed and
they resumed their pillaging, the people o f various markets rose up against them. An emir
(i.e., a seyyid, descendant o f the Prophet M uhammad) who was a napkin-maker, held up
a makeshift banner and cried, “those who are Muslims, come under the banner!” With
a snowball effect, this led to a massed crowd demonstrating in the first court o f Topkapi
Palace. TF describes the scene vividly: “They were as if gathering in a blacksmith’s
house at the time o f jokers and stories”.31 There had been no Grand Vizier since the brutal
killing o f Siyavuç, and many state dignitaries went into hiding in horror. In other words,
the usual administrative chain o f command between the palace and the ‘city-people’
(§ehirlu) was not functioning. According to Silahdar, on encountering this multitude,
which was demanding the Holy Banner o f the Prophet Muhammad, the palace officials
refused to deal directly with the crowd, telling them to bring forth a leader from among
the seyyids and ulema who could receive the banner. The crowd then managed to bring
forward some influential people (sahib-i kelâm); Silahdar does not make it clear whether
Seyyid Osman was one o f those who were called forth by the crowd, and San Mehmed
Pasha just mentions that Seyyid Osman also came to the palace and was later allowed
to go inside.32 In the end, it was Seyyid Osman who received the banner and played the

30 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:318. Siyavuç Pasha was in a position where he could not exert himself in any
direction, as he was caught between Kôprülüzade Mustafa Pasha, who was the son of his pa­
tron Mehmed Kôprülü, and the zorbas who had made him the Grand Vizier. Silahdar portrays
the scion of the Kôprülü family as an arrogant, proud, and pushy person who regarded Siyavuç
merely as his father’s freed slave.
31 TF 136b.
32 Zübde-i Vekayiât, 227-280, nn. 61-62. Cairo manuscript 123b. “Çehir halki güruh giiruh
yürüyüp [...] Saray-i Sultanî’y e dogru yürüdüler. [...] Sultan Selim Camii vaizi Atbazari E$-
$eyh Osman Efendi ve ulemadan ba ’zilari dahi Saray-i Sultanîye dahil olup §eyh-i mezkûrun
içerü duhulüne ruhsat virdiler.”
 ATPAZA RÎ SE Y Y ID O SM A N FAZLI AS PO R TR A Y ED IN T E M Â M Ü 'L - F E Y Z 423

crucial role o f go-between - which took great courage, as the crowd was in a murderous
mood and had killed an official who was suspected o f being on the side o f the zorbas,33
Seyyid Osman was successful in winning the trust o f both the crowd and the palace, help­
ing both sides reach a satisfactory agreement.
To this general storyline the TF adds a few revealing details, particularly from the
unique viewpoint o f the Sufi, which add depth to our understanding o f the process. First
o f all, TF seems to locate Seyyid Osman’s role in the civilian uprising within the context
o f his constant advice to the state dignitaries and the Sultan. In this light, his bold advice
to Siyavuç Pasha before the civilian uprising is noteworthy. He had been trying to help
Siyavuç ever since the latter first began secretly scheming to dethrone Mehmed IV.34 It
is interesting that Seyyid Osman' relates that Siyavuç had played an important role in
overthrowing Mehmed IV ’s government and portrays him in a sympathetic light. This
is in contrast to other chronicles, where the leading role in the deposition o f Mehmed
IV is assigned to Kôprülüzade Mustafa Pasha.35 In TF, when Seyyid Osman suggested
to the Grand Vizier that he should bring the military corps back to order, saying that the
janissary, sipahi, topçu, and cebeci units were the four pillars.of the sultanate, Siyavuç
confided to Seyyid Osman that he did not have any real power with which to rein in the
rebellious soldiers. Then the §eyh suggested that Siyavuç should go so far as to discipline
Kôprülüzade Mustafa, the son o f his patron, as it was he who held the Grand Vizier’s
seal. When Siyavuç baulked at this suggestion, Seyyid Osman intuited that his end would
not be a good one.36
We may also note that there were many other people along with the zorbas proper
who participated in the raid on Siyavus’s residence. Interestingly enough, San Mehmed
Pasha mentions that there were probably Jews and Christians involved,37 while TF clear­
ly states that among the raiders there w ere both Muslims and non-Muslims,38 reminding
us o f the complexity o f the relations between those groups. While it is difficult to deter­
mine whether non-Muslims participated in the ensuing revolt o f Istanbul civilians, which
was so obviously framed by Islamic religious concepts and symbols such as the umma,
seyyids, and the Holy Banner, it seems significant that the participation o f non-Muslims
is mentioned in the raiding o f the Grand Vizier’s house. One may dismiss this as vague
or simply as slander o f non-Muslims; however, a Greek official o f the Patriarchate later
expressed sympathy for those who tried to return plundered goods in the belief that they
would be forgiven (as had been announced), only to be executed.39 Given that the Greek

33 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:336.

34 TF 133b.
35 TF 133b-134b. TF probably discounts the importance of Kôprülüzade’s role out of personal
hostility. See also Silahdar Tarihi, 2:295-296, Zübde-i Vekayiât, 254.
36 TF 135a.
37 See Zübde-i Vekayiât, 276. Silahdar Tarihi (2:332-334) does not mention any non-Muslims
among the plunderers.
38 TF 135b-136a.
39 P. I. Zerlentes, ‘Ioannou tou Karyofyllou Ephemerides [Ioannes Karyofylles’ Journals]’, Del-
tion Istorikes kai Ethnologikes Etaireias tes Hellados, 3 (1889), 312-313. The author was hos­
424 EU N JEO N G YI

official knew the fears and expectations o f the raiders, perhaps he was not all that distant
from some o f them, and thus it does not seem impossible that there were in fact non-
Muslims among those who pillaged Siyavuç’s residence.
Regarding the §eyh’s participation in the civilian uprising, TF cites the §eyh as saying
that “a strong motive for going to the Sultan’s palace occurred to me”, as if this was a
divine inspiration.40 It goes on to state that when he arrived at the palace gate, ‘they’ (the
crowd) gave way in order to let him pass into the palace,41 which makes it clear that he
became involved in the uprising on the side o f the demonstrators. If we permit ourselves
to make guesses based on the wording o f the sentence, it would seem possible that the
?eyh voluntarily participated even before he was called, although it is likely that he was
invited. At that time, the palace was trying to summon all those state dignitaries who
were not in hiding, but it does not seem very likely that the palace would have called
upon such a troublemaker as Seyyid Osman, who had meddled in important affairs upon
the enthronement o f the reigning Sultan just four months previously.42 In any event, by
stating that the §eyh went to the palace on his own initiative, urged by an inner motive,
TF places him upon a rather neutral, elevated platform, rather than simply associating
him with one side or the other.
While it seems clear from the general situation that he started out on the side o f the
crowd, the emphasis in TF is that he advocated for the position o f the Sultan and the pal­
ace, and so succeeded in appeasing the angry and frustrated masses, thus defusing a great
danger to the sultanate. This was also in stark contrast with the high-ranking ulema, who
were either being held at the headquarters o f the zorbas or participating in the meeting
inside the palace, and none o f whom had the courage to take the Holy Banner and appear
in front o f the huge crowd. If TF was indeed attempting to dilute the çeyh’s connection
with the crowd, this seems to be consonant with Seyyid Osman’s general orientation
toward giving advice to Sultans and Viziers - that is to say, for him it may have been
more important to guide the statesmen correctly, and indeed his views on the men o f the
marketplace as scattered throughout TF are not particularly positive. To him the civilian
uprising in and o f itself was not greatly meaningful, other than that it was an emergency
he had to take care o f personally, and probably a chance to get rid o f the zorba regime.43
What he did during the uprising was apparently to provide the sole window o f com­
munication between the crowd and its demands (i.e., the raising o f the Holy Banner, pun­
ishment o f the zorbas, and appointment o f ju st and pious persons to major positions of
government) and the answers and decrees from inside the palace - on which point all the

tile to Siyavu? for personal reasons as well. I thank Marinos Sariyannis for informing me about
two Greek sources that are sympathetic to the Janissaries and translating the relevant passages
into English for me.
40 TF 137a. "Waqa'at l î da'iah qawlyyah ... ” .
41 TF 137a.
42 See footnote 17.
43 TF does not leave one with a sense that the zorba regime was much worse than the rule of
Mehmed IV or the excessive taxes under Tekfurdagh Mustafa Pasha.
 ATPAZA RÎ SE Y Y ÎD O SM A N FA ZLI AS PO R TR A Y ED IN T E M À M Ü 'L - F E Y Z 425

sources agree.44 He had the absolute trust o f the crowd, which wanted to hear informa­
tion regarding what was going on through him alone. They are supposed to have shouted:
“O Seyyid, we bear witness that you are a truthful and trustworthy person and pious and
perfect §eyh”.45 The fact that the crowd selected him as their mediator is remarkable in
that they must have known about his reputation as a politically outspoken Sufi, and they
stuck to his mediation throughout the course o f the uprising.
He was also able to persuade the palace, albeit with some difficulty, to take out the
Holy Banner.46 Standing on top o f the second gate o f the Topkapi palace (Babü’s-selâm
or Orta Kapi), where the Holy Banner was raised, he reassured the crowds below that
their wishes would be granted. His voice was very loud, and “there was nobody among
the crowd who could not hear him”.47 He emphasised the importance of patience, just as
“while God had the ability to create heaven and earth in just a blink of the eye, He took
seven days”.48 These turns o f phrase, also found in Silahdar’s chronicle, make it sound as
if he wanted the demonstrators to wait patiently and adopt a rather passive stance until so­
lutions were handed down from above.49 TF, however, perhaps allows us to discern what
he really meant by these words. He gently persuaded the crowd not to disperse before the
whole situation had ended. This would have been at his own initiative rather than the pal­
ace’s, since although a general call-to-arms was put into force under the Holy Banner, the
palace would have been reluctant to consider civilians without titles as legitimate political
agents, and would likely have felt uncomfortable about there being so many o f them right
outside the palace gates. TF mentions that the crowd, for the most part, did not leave the
palace for a day and half, despite the hardship o f spending the night in the open and hav­
ing to stand the extremely foul smell.50 In Silahdar, this aspect o f his leadership in making
them keep their position is completely missing, leaving only his telling them that those
who had things to take care o f at home could go once the imminent danger was past.51 In
contrast, although TF tries to portray him as a neutral mediator and a wise advisor both to
the Sultan and the crowd, it also - inadvertently - reveals that he was in fact steering the
demonstration. Seen in this context, the §eyh's statement to the palace recorded only in
Isazade’s chronicle that the uprising would not calm down without [the appointment of] a
Grand Vizier, §eyhülislam and kadis and Janissary agha sounds more forceful.52 Therefore

44 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:337-345; Zübde-i Vekayiât, 277-281; TF 137a-140a.

45 TF 137b. “Ayyuha as-sayyid al-jalil, nashhadu annaka rajul haqq wa sidq wa shaykh sdlih
kâmiF.
46 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:338. As there was a threat from the zorbas, the banner was hoisted after
some hesitation and only with the support from old $eyhs and ulema in the palace meeting.
47 TF 137a.
48 TF 137a-b.
49 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:343. There Seyyid Osman is cited as having said this in response to Orta
Imami, who wanted to remove the zorba ringleaders quickly.
50 TF 138b.
51 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:344.
52 Z. Yilmazer (ed.), ‘îsâ-zâde Târîhi (Istanbul 1996) 209. The account of the uprising given here
is extremely succinct and it is peculiar that we get this interesting statement from this chronicle.
426 EU N JEO N G YI

it is not at all surprising that Seyyid Osman figured prominently in the closing stages of
the events (i.e., after the purge o f many major zorba figures and appointment o f ‘reason­
able people’ to major government positions), standing out even more than the newly (re)
appointed §eyhiilislam Debbagzade Mehmed Efendi, and leading a prayer that moved the
participants to tears.53
The dialogue between Seyyid Osman and the demonstrators is even more interest­
ing still. When he came out on the ramparts o f the gate with a list o f new appointees, he
read the names aloud and asked the people assembled whether they were satisfied.54 if
we are to trust Silahdar - who records the crowd’s answer simply as “Very reasonable.
We accept it” (Pek ma ‘kul. Kabul ittik.) - we may well regard the question as a merely
rhetorical one to which the crowd was supposed to assent. However, in TF the §eyh tells
the crowd that the new appointments are just as they wanted, but as he enumerates the
names o f the appointees they declare they want someone else as Grand Vizier.
Ayni’s biography o f Ismail Hakki says that the crowd wanted Seyyid Osman himself
as the new Grand Vizier, but that he refused to be considered.55 This argument is surpris­
ing as it would seem rather unlikely for the crowd to want a controversial Sufi $eyh as the
Grand Vizier, however high his reputation may have become in the process o f the revolt.
This is very different from asking for redress o f their grievances with the zorbas. In fact,
it is easy to see that Ayni’s claim is mistaken. Ayni probably misread the passage in Silah-
dar’s chronicle where the crowd said they “wanted Seyyid Osman” while the palace was
discussing whom to appoint as the Grand Vizier.56 This just seems to be a coincidence of
timing, and the crowd seems simply to have “ wanted” to see Seyyid Osman, who had
gone inside the palace, to come out and talk, but not as th'e new Grand Vizier.
The crowd did not actually want Seyyid Osman as their Grand Vizier; if Ayni were
right, TF would have been at pains to emphasise it. Nevertheless, Ayni’s view has
an interesting resonance given that we come to learn that the crowd actually wanted
Koprülüzade M ustafa Pasha instead o f Ismail Pasha, upon whom the palace meeting
had agreed.57 TF relates that M ustafa Pasha was deemed to be pious, knowledgeable,
just, and moderate among the people o f Istanbul, even to the extent o f being expected
to be the second ‘renew er’ imujaddid'. the hero who supposedly renews religion and
politics at the turn o f a century) after the year 1000 o f the Islamic calendar.58 Given the
timing o f the uprising, coinciding with early spring o f the year 1099 in the hijri calendar,
there may well have been an atmosphere o f expecting the mujaddid. Although he had

53 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:346; TF 140a.

54 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:343, “Razi olup kabul ider misizT'
55 Ayni, TürkAzizleri, 45-46. He does not give any reference for this. Probably he did not read TF
closely.
56 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:340.
57 TF 139b. The crowd’s desire to have Koprülüzade Mustafa as the Grand Vizier is also corrobo­
rated in a Greek account. See ‘Chronographos’ [Chronicler], in K. N. Sathas (ed.), Mesaionike
Vivliotheke [Medieval Library], Vol. 3 (Venice 1872), 38-39. 1 thank Marinos Sariyannis for
bringing this source to my attention and translating the relevant passages into English.
58 TF 152b-153a. See El2, s.v. ‘Mudjaddid’ (E. van Donzel).
 A TPAZA RÎ SE Y Y iD O SM A N FAZL1 AS PO RTRAYED IN T E M Â M Ü 'L - F E Y Z A il

enemies,59 his reputation must nevertheless have been quite high among the elites, partly
because o f his father’s and elder brother’s effectiveness, and also his experience and
education. It seems to have been especially high among the ulema, who later promoted
him by consensus to become Grand Vizier.60 That the demonstrators wanted him as the
new Grand Vizier may be evidence o f the circulation o f opinions between the elites and
the common people at this period.
Upon this unexpected turn o f events, Seyyid Osman worked wonders in saving face
for the Sultan. Stating that he had promised not to go against the will o f the Sultan, he
reminded the crowd that they had agreed to this as well.61 Reassuring them that their
favourite’s turn to serve as the Grand Vizier would come soon, he managed to gain their
acquiescence. The dynamics o f the situation, unexpectedly making the Istanbul artisans
legitimate political actors engaged in meting out punishment to zorbas, must have left
them sufficiently self-confident that they even dared make a counter-suggestion to the
Sultan’s decision. For the official chroniclers, this was probably too unpleasant or too
‘unimportant’ a detail to record.
At any rate, it was an undeniably great feat o f compromise that served the interests
both o f the Sultan and the people o f Istanbul. To Ismail Hakki, it was literally one o f the
miracles worked by his $eyh.62 He even thought that his §eyh, and not M ustafa Pasha,
could be the mujaddid, saying, “He was father o f destiny in both form and meaning, and
was the means for life both to his Sultan and his people. What would the mystery o f re­
newal at the beginning o f a century mean other than this?”63

Aftermath: Exile and death as a troublemaker

Seyyid Osman’s life after the riot was no less dramatic. Since his performance had un­
doubtedly and dramatically increased his clout, the government attempted to mobilise
him in support o f wartime policies o f extremely heavy commandeering and conscription
during the viziership o f Tekfurdagh Mustafa Pasha.64 This was a time when key Balkan
cities such as Belgrade had fallen to the Habsburgs and a major war had to be waged with
a ruined state budget. This, however, provoked him to take a contrary direction.

59 See Silahdar’s unfavourable account in fn. 30 above. He was occasionally held in check by ri­
val statesmen of the time. See El2, s.v. ‘Kôprülü’ (M. T. Gôkbilgin and R. C. Repp).
60 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:358. For a favourable account of Kôprülüzade Mustafa Papa’s life and deeds,
see A. Ôzcan (ed.), Anonim Osmanli Tarihi (1099-1116/1688-1704) (Ankara 2000), 28.
61 TF 139b.
62 TF 126a and 141a.
63 TF 140b. “Fa-kâna abâ ’l-qismahfi ’s-sürah wa ’l-ma ‘nâ wa sababan li-hayah ahl al- ‘alam min
sultânihi wa ra ‘iyetihi. Fa-mâ ma 'nâ sirri ’l-tajdidfi ra ’si ’l-mi ’ah gayr hâdha?”
64 Zübde-i Vekayiât, 308-310. See also Silahdar Tarihi, 2:275-276 for the uproar caused by the
heavy demands from the government. A good overview of the financial difficulties and desper­
ate fiscal reforms of the period between 1683 and 1699 is given in C. Finkel, Osman's Dream
(London 2005) 325-328.
428 E U N JE O N G YI

It is unclear whether Seyyid Osman was unco-operative from the beginning. Sari
Mehmed Pasha relates that in addition to the many statesmen in charge o f mobilisation,
Seyyid Osman was charged with preaching that performing gaza (war against infidels)
with all one’s means (including one’s life) was the duty o f all, and he was later exiled
for a short period to Bogaz Hisari, at the same time as some high bureaucrats were also
exiled, as a warning against under-achievement in the mobilisation o f resources.65 TF, on
the other hand, gives us a rather different version o f this story. Seyyid Osman apparently
delivered a fiery sermon (va ‘z) against these policies from the pulpit o f the Sultan Selim
Mosque (although he had previously retired from his role as preacher there). In principle,
he agreed that jihad against the invasion on the northern front was needed and asked
the congregation to join it if they could, promising that he him self would do so as well.
However, he decried the imposition o f excessive taxes, saying the “current confiscation
o f properties is an abominable novelty [bid‘ah qablhah]”,66 He advised the congregation
to give as much money as they pleased to the worthy men among the poor soldiers, rather
than paying the exorbitant taxes.67 In the same sermon he even revealed to the people
that the Grand Vizier had secretly asked him to support the tax-collection drive - which
was exactly the opposite o f what the administrators, with Tekfurdagh M ustafa at their
head, had wanted from him. W hen he actually set out for war with his followers and ar­
rived in Sofya, the Grand Vizier naturally blocked him from joining the army marching
to Belgrade.68
With such non-conformist behaviour and high popularity, it would have been natural
that statesmen in central government should consider him a dangerous figure. During the
grand viziership o f Kôprülüzade Mustafa, who replaced Tekfurdagh Mustafa, there is no
indication that Seyyid Osman again raised his voice in criticism o f government policies.
TF’s view o f the Grand V izier’s reform policies seems rather ambiguous. Kôprülüzade
M ustafa’s repealing o f the unpopular taxes was considered praiseworthy, but the aboli­
tion o f the fixed prices (narh) which had long been regulating the market was seen in
quite a negative light.69 While undertaking such large-scale reform measures and hav­
ing to organise a major military campaign against the Habsburgs,70 it is understandable
that the Grand Vizier decided to remove political enemies and potential troublemakers,
among whom was numbered Seyyid Osman (probably not a very important one, but a
nuisance all the same) from Istanbul to such remote places as the Famagusta fortress on
Cyprus - where the §eyh ended up, dying about a year later.

65 Zübde-i Vekayiât, 309.

66 TF 150b. In his conversation with his disciples he also disapproved of the new taxes (al-takalif
al-sultaniyya), as they were collected in “abominable ways and were given to unworthy peo­
ple” (TF 279b).
67 TF 150b.
68 7F 151 a-152a. He was furious about this and said he had severed relations of his heart with the
Sultan and his helpers.
69 TF 153a: “prices changed according to the opinion of sellers who overstepped the bounds”.
70 For details of his reforms and campaign efforts, see F. Yilmaz, ‘The Life of Kôprülüzade Fazil
Mustafa Pasha and His Reforms’, OA, 20 (2000), 181-219.
 A TPAZA RÎ SE Y Y ÎD O SM A N FA ZLI AS PO RTRA Y ED IN T E M À M Ü 'L - F E Y Z 429

TF gives many clues as to why Kôprülüzade Mustafa banished the $eyh.7i (1) It sug­
gests that Kôprülüzade Mustafa was envious o f the §eyh because the latter was destined
for “enjoining the good and forbidding the evil” regarding Sultans, viziers, and others;
(2) The çeyh had suggested to Siyavuç Pasha that he discipline Kôprülüzade if need be,
which would have offended the latter; (3) Kôprülüzade was very probably not happy that
Seyyid Osman had diverted the people’s demand to have him appointed as the Grand
Vizier (TF views the pasha as a greedy character who held a personal grudge against the
$eyh, although the seyh had foretold more than once that Kôprülüzade Mustafa would be
the Grand Vizier in the end); (4) However, the most important reason must have been to
stop him from meddling in state affairs, as he was too independent and fearless, and thus
more troublesome than useful.72Although Hakki says it is absurd that the edict o f banish­
ment should have stated that the seyh was exiled because he was helping criminals (//-
kaunihi mu ‘inan ashqiya),73 this would have made sense for the government in that what
he had been doing could be seen as instigating disobedience to state authority. Seyyid Os­
man “gladly” accepted his exile, giving a religious meaning to it, and repeatedly prayed
for the Sultan, the Vizier, and the army o f Islam as he left for Famagusta;74 the lengthy
passage describing how God punished the viziers who had sent him into exile, however,
alludes to what his real feelings may have been.75

Seyyid Osman’s connections with and perceptions o f social groups

As we have seen, Seyyid Osman is not a figure who is easily classified. He was a po­
litically active Sufi who belonged to the mostly quiet and moderate Celveti order; he
studied the exoteric sciences while training as a Sufi; and having his tekke at Kul Camii
in Atpazari in the Fatih district,76 he must have had daily contacts with artisans and
soldiers, but at the same tim e his spiritual knowledge held a certain appeal for state
dignitaries. Given this complexity, we should not presume anything about the charac­
teristics o f his connections with social groups in advance o f an exhaustive study o f what
evidence there is.
Having begun my work on Seyyid Osman from the perspective o f the artisans’ upris­
ing, I had imagined that he had well-established connections and networks among the
artisans due to the location o f his tekke and/or his being a famous preacher. This may very
well have been so, although TF does not speak about such things. At least from the yeyh’s

71 TF 154a- 155a.
72 TF 155a. Kôprülüzade says, “I know the çeyh is never afraid of anybody, not of the Sultan, not
of the Vizier, nor anybody else. [...] He may not be present, may not pray for them [i.e., op-
pressive/sinful viziers], or may not accompany them on campaigns”.
73 TF 166a.
74 TF 164b
75 Ibid.
76 The mosque had a military connection as it was a place where 12 Janissary çorbacis performed
evening prayer before they set out for nightly duties. TDVIA, s.v. ‘Atpazari Tekkesi’ (M. B.
Tanman).
430 EU N JEO N G YI

point o f view (and also from Ismail Hakki’s), the artisans and merchants, and the city-
people (gehirlii) by extension, were neither important nor wise. They were o f a rather
inferior nature, usually uninterested in understanding the mystical dimensions o f life and
religion, and mostly in need o f guidance as regards having their grievances redressed.77
Thus they were the object o f his guidance and help. TF’s low regard for the men o f the
marketplace is apparent when Hakki describes the application o f Kôprülüzade Mustafa
Pasha’s policy o f repealing fixed prices.78 He also says that “people o f nature and desire”
(i.e., those who find it difficult to understand the esoteric) are usually to be found among
artisans, merchants, teachers, judges, etc.79
It is also clear that the ulema comprised another outstanding social group not re­
garded highly in TF. Ismail Hakki repeatedly emphasises the uselessness o f the ulema
in a time o f crisis, saying that they could not provide the support that the weak Sultan
needed, he having lived in confinement for 40 years.80 ismail Hakki also claims that most
ulema, upon becoming close to the Sultan and other dignitaries, boasted about this and
thus “got farther away from God”.81 They were considered to be ignorant o f what to do
in a crisis and engaged in a perpetual search for power and benefits. The author proudly
states that his geyh was incorruptible by worldly means,82 while other men o f religion
often bragged about the gifts they had received. On the other hand, however, TF does
not seem to manifest personal hostility toward any individual ulema, despite its tirades
against them as a group.83
As for the military, TF cites a very interesting statement which Seyyid Osman made
while advising the Grand Vizier Siyavus Pasha. He posited (as we have seen) that the
sultanate was like a tall structure built on four pillars, respectively the Janissaries, sipa-
his, topgus, and cebecis, each o f which had been established “by a Sufi saint”.84 Now
they were corrupt and order had to be restored to them, a task which he expected Siyavuç
to take on. With the purge o f unjust oppressors (i.e., zorbas) from among the four pil­
lars, Siyavuç’s situation as well as that o f the government would improve in a remark­
able fashion.85 Given that he considered these military corps as the most basic structures

77 TF 265a.
78 TF 153a.
79 TF 94b. “Fa al-tabî'ah w a’l-nafs maqâm al-tafriqah al-kulliyyah....Erbâbu’l- tabï'ah wa'l-
nafs min at-tujjâr wa 'l-sannâ ‘ wa ahli ’l-tadrïs wa ’l-qaçiâ’wa gayrihim.”
80 TF 140b ft.
81 TF 262a.
82 Mehmed IV wanted to build him a hanekah, but he refused. TF 262a.
83 Even Feyzullah Efendi, who had stayed with the zorbas, was described in a matter-of-fact way.
Some of the highest ulema of the time, such as Esirî Mehmed who had been a Çeyhülislam,
were shown in a favourable light, as they had recognised and helped Seyyid Osman. See TF
100b.
84 TF 135a. “Fa-qultu inna as-saltanah ka-binâ’in ‘aliyyinyuqïmuha arba'ah arkân wa hiya ma
yuqâlfi lisân al-âmmayeniçeri, sipahi, topçu, cebeci. Wada'a hadhihi’l-arkân ba'zul’l-awliyâ
Allah bi ishârah min Allah.”
85 7F 135a.
 ATPAZA RÎ SE Y Y ID O SM A N FAZLI AS PO R TR A Y ED IN T E M À M Ü 'L - F E Y Z 43 1

which sustained the state, it seems that Seyyid Osman did not inherently regard the mili­
tary with low esteem. Silahdar’s chronicle, which provides an excellent description of
the internal affairs o f the military, shows that the çeyh was actually very adept at dealing
with the military officers who obeyed the general call to arms in the course o f the civilian
uprising. It was the §eyh who selected and recommended the new Janissary agha, Bos-
navî Hasan Aga, from among the palace personnel, and he also called the major Janissary
officers from the crowd, asking them to come forward and meet their new aga at one of
the palace gates with the proper ceremony.86 He does seem skilful and authoritative in
commanding the officers, and this probably suggests some connection with the military.
It is interesting that TF does not mention this important detail, but the oversight is not
entirely inexplicable, as Hakki him self was not present in Istanbul during the uprising.
The full gamut o f Seyyid Osman’s relations with state dignitaries is a matter for
speculation. Although he him self preferred not to get any material gains from his patrons,
he had a following among the officials and people o f distinction (havass), who secured
water sources for his house.87 As time went on, the poor Sufi - who had to make his liv­
ing by handwriting the Q ur’an in the early days following his arrival in Istanbul88 - came
to have a piece o f land in Atpazari granted by the nakibüleçraf (head o f the seyyids),
where he had a house built,89 as well as a multi-storey (fevkani) house on the shores of
the Bosporus.90 It is unclear to what extent he was taken seriously by the powerful states­
men o f the time, as he sometimes demanded difficult changes to the habits o f the Sultan
or harshly criticised government policies. It is not surprising he was exiled three times.
While the statesmen would have treated his advice or dream interpretations with
some reservations, Seyyid Osman, o f course, took his role very seriously. As his sugges­
tions were mostly ignored, the §eyh expressed his frustration in remarks such as “I would
migrate to India if I only had the means”,91 and “the time o f the Mahdi [Messiah] is near
and the Ottoman Sultans are dying out”.92 (He probably did not seriously mean what he
said, since he still prayed for the Sultan, Vizier, and the army as he left for Famagusta.
He remained a gadfly inside the Ottoman system in the end.93) Given their subversive
potential, even if usually expressed in short sentences and only in passing, such ideas
and statements could nonetheless be dangerous, and this may well have necessitated

86 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:343-344.

87 TF 273b. In addition, the fact that he had many wives and concubines would seem to indicate
that he was fairly well-off before he was finally exiled to Famagusta, Cyprus.
88 TF 98a.
89 TF 101b.
90 TFITib.
91 TF 149a.
92 TF 261a. “Injarra al-kalâm ila dhikr as-sultân wa ikhtilâl az-zamân bi’z-zulüm w a’l- ‘udwân
wa 'l-fasâd wa 7- iughyan wa qurb zamân al-mahdi wa inqirâd al-salâtîn al- ‘uthmâniyyah”.
93 In terms of political stance, it would be very interesting to compare him with the ‘dissident Su­
fi’ Niyazi Misrî after collecting more information from his works and not just Hakki’s, which
is, of course, way beyond the scope of this article. For the details of Misri’s political thoughts
and the contexts they were in, see Terzioglu, ‘Niyazi Misri’ Chapter 4, 277-354.
432 EU N JEO N G YI

the composition o f TF in Arabic and the limited circulation o f its copies, at least ini­
tially. The very full description o f the life and deeds o f Seyyid Osman in TF is in stark
contrast with the succinct biographical entry on him in the same author’s Silsilename-yi
Celveti, composed in Ottoman. The latter consists in only a few folios, wherein ismail
Hakki rarely mentions any colorful detail. In the Silsilename, Hakki only says that ‘some
viziers’ harbouring rancor and envy toward him sent him into exile,94 whereas in 7 F h e
talks freely about Kôprülüzade M ustafa’s reasons for hating Seyyid Osman and relates
that although common people looked up to Kôprülüzade as the mujaddid, it was Seyyid
Osman who was closer to fulfilling that role. Hakki may well have wanted to keep this
manuscript from the central government, the Kôprülü household, and others who might
have welcomed a chance to report on what he set out in this book.

Conclusion
When the palace was still hesitating over whether to give the Holy Banner to the civilian
crowd in early spring 1688, the old seyhs and ulema attending the palace meeting sug­
gested that it should be granted, saying it “is a miracle [keramet] o f the Prophet Muham­
mad, and would lead to their [i.e., the zorbas’’] destruction”.95 In like manner, the idea of
the miracles and mysteries o f religion was widely shared by both the elite and the popu­
lace. In the context o f such widespread faith in the supernatural, Sufis would naturally
have had relevance to all kinds o f worldly matters such as politics, in addition to the oth­
erworldly. Ottoman urban Sufis’ interests and involvement in politics has begun to draw
scholarly attention only recently,96 but it is bound to be a productive venue for research.
Temamii ’l-Feyz, a Sufi treatise probably not intended to be shown to the Sultans and
their Viziers, is therefore a rich trove o f insight into the political and social history of
Ottoman Istanbul. Here, the contemporary situation, and the words and deeds o f Seyyid
Osman, are described in a revealing and uninhibited manner - if only one can turn a
blind eye to the aggrandising elements. Details o f the personal grudge (and the sense of
rivalry?) existing mutually between the §eyh and Kôprülüzade Mustafa are perhaps not to
be found in any other source. It is likely that facts about Kôprülüzade were exaggerated
and distorted by personal feelings, but we cannot dismiss the element o f envy (based) on
the part o f the pasha completely, given that the §eyh was respected to the utmost degree
by San Mehmed Pasha, the author o f Zübde-i Vekayiât, and a leading statesman o f the
next generation.
TF is all the more valuable in that it reveals important facts about the common folk
o f early modem Ottoman Istanbul. Authors o f chronicles composed in the tradition of
official Ottoman history-writing may not have been interested in faithfully conveying

94 Silsilename-yi Celveti, 48b.

95 Silahdar Tarihi, 2:338. “Keramet-i resulullâhdir, makhur olmalarma delâlet ider.”
96 See, for example, D. Terzioglu, ‘Sunna-Minded Sufi Preachers in Service of the Ottoman State:
The Nasihatname of Hasan Addressed to Murad IV’, ArchOtt, 27 (2010), 241-312, in addition
to her above-mentioned Ph.D. dissertation.
 ATPAZA RÎ S E Y Y iD O SM A N FAZLI AS PO R TR A Y ED IN T E M Â M Û 'L - F E Y Z 433

what the Istanbul civilians wanted, and may have felt uncomfortable about reporting
the details o f the dialogue between the §eyh and the crowd where the latter was de­
manding something that was beyond its customary prerogative. The elite chroniclers’
perspective could be sometimes more distant from the common city-people than that
o f a Greek chronicler.97 Even if TF is not particularly positive about the artisans and
merchants, and does have a certain elite-centred orientation, Seyyid Osman, and for that
matter Hakki as well, was familiar with the city-people and understood their opinions,
as in the case o f their promoting Kôprülüzade and regarding him as the ‘renewer’.The
vivid description o f the crowd gathering at the time o f the uprising - ‘as if gathering in a
blacksmith’s house at the time o f jokers and stories’ - could not have emerged without a
good knowledge o f the behaviour o f the common city folk. Despite its gaps, biases, and
predilections, TF provides us with a rare opportunity to observe with vivid clarity the
intersections between Sufis, elites, and the common people o f Ottoman Istanbul, just as
its colourful protagonist connected the many parts o f that society.

97 See footnote 57.

 THE OTTOMANS, MILITARY MANPOWER
AND POLITICAL BARGAINS 1750-1850

V irginia H . A ksan *

T h e fo cu s o f this pa per w ill be a com parative lo o k at the options open to the Otto­
man dynasty concerning mobilising the battlefields in the transitional period 1750-1850.
It asks what military manpower was available to the Sultans and what compromises they
were forced to make in order to defend shrinking frontiers against their Austrian and Rus­
sian foes. Honing in on the question o f labour supply, the paper reviews a range o f ap­
proaches available to historians o f empire concerning the evolution of military forces,
and raises certain fundamental questions about the importance o f ecology, mobility, and
political will in an era convulsed by both external and internal pressures on the Ottoman
system.
O f particular concern in the discussion that follows is the role of warrior societies
and mobile horsemen in the Ottoman context. An icon o f Turco-Mongol civilisations,
the horse and the crossbow are generally acknowledged to have permanently altered the
nature o f global warfare. Light cavalrymen (e.g., akinci, sipahi, lèvent, deli, baçibozuk),
fundamental to the early success o f the Ottomans, have been approached using many
lenses, but not sufficiently as the major force not ju st in early provincial conquest settle­
ment, but as constant participants in the evolution and perpetuation o f the Ottoman
dynasty.
The underlying assumption here is that all imperial politics require bargaining for
fighting m en.*1 In the reflections that follow, the focus is on the era of dissolution just
prior to the age o f mechanised warfare, between the Seven Years War (1756-1763) and
the Crimean War (1853-1856), when cavalry regiments world-wide generally evolved
from irregulars to hussar-style ethnic formations in post-Napoleonic armies. The primary
question is why Mahmud II (1808-1839) and his successors made different choices from

* Professor Emeritus, McMaster University.

1 V. H. Aksan, ‘Mobilization of Warrior Populations in the Ottoman Context, 1750-1850’, in E.
J. Ziircher (ed.) Fighting for a Living, International Institute for Social History (Amsterdam
2013), 323-343; V. Aksan, ‘The Ottoman Absence from the Battlefields of the Seven Years
War’, in P. J. Speelman and M. J. Danley (eds), Seven Years War as a Global Conflict (Leiden
2013), 165-190.
436 V IR G IN IA H. A K SA N

their imperial foes concerning cavalrymen in the post-Janissary age. A related question is
how the ecology and resources o f the Ottoman Empire in particular drove the processes
o f assembling and distributing provisions for warfare and security. And, finally, in what
sense were the Ottomans and their subjects drawn into the global revolutions around lib­
eration and constitutionalism that began in the 1780s as a result o f the political bargains
required to get men to the battlefield.
Jane Burbank and Frederick Cooper consider the Ottomans central to their arguments
about political conversations, “as an empire that managed to blend Turkic, Byzantine,
Arab, Mongol, and Persian traditions into durable, flexible and transforming power”.
Empires, rulers and their subjects are envisioned as negotiating and contesting power,
with particular repertoires o f politics and cultures, which always include degrees o f in­
corporation and differentiation o f peoples across highly disparate territories. As Karen
Barkey asserts, imperial power assumes the “exercise o f political control through hier­
archical and quasi-monopolistic relations over groups ethnically different from itself.
These relations are, however, regularly subject to negotiations over the degree o f au­
tonomy o f intermediaries in return for military and fiscal compliance”.2 In this context,
the Ottoman political economy can be envisioned as an organic process resulting from
a particular set o f conditions requiring a re-allocation o f resources. In other words, the
dynasty engaged in redistributing wealth among the arrivistes, observable in the struggle
to establish hegemonic power over Anatolia and the Balkans in the early as well as in the
crises o f the later eras. Although armaments, artillery, and handguns are means o f negoti­
ating political fortunes, or investing in state enterprises, stipendiary privileges, accession
gifts, uniforms, devalued coinage, and competition over tax revenues and tax relief, and
mobilising men and supplies for the battlefront are all prominent features o f the Ottoman
context around the business o f war. Rebellions and other forms o f violence that emerged
in response to the on-going process can be viewed as ‘political conversations’, whether
such outbursts o f violence against monarchs and/or despots alike result from exhaustion
because o f religious or dynastic wars, over-extension o f pre-modern agrarian empires in
response to impossible demands on manpower and peasant production, or, more recogni-
sably, as challenges about the nature and obligations o f absolutism, good government,
and moral authority. Alfred Rieber locates these conversations in the Eurasian shatter-
zones, contending that “by the early twentieth century, the borderlands had evolved into
geocultural sites where proponents o f incompatible ideologies and political movements
- ethnic nationalism, agrarian populism, and industrial socialism - interacted, producing
an explosive combination and threatening imperial rule with paralysis, rebellion, and
foreign war” .3

2 J. Burbank and F. Cooper, Empires in World History (Princeton 2010), 18. K. Barkey, Empire
o f Difference: The Ottomans in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge 2008), 9.
3 A. Rieber, The Struggle for the Eurasian Borderlands from the Rise o f Early Modern Empires
to the End o f the First World War (Cambridge 2014), 530-531. His discussion embraces the
Baltic powers of Sweden, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, as well as the Mongol, Habs-
burg, Ottoman, Iranian (Safavid and Qajar), and Chinese (Qing) Empires in his Eurasia.
 T H E O TT O M A N S, M ILITA RY M A N P O W E R A N D PO L IT IC A L B A R G A IN S 1750-1850 437

There are three phases o f Ottoman military change that can be seen to involve con­
versations. 1) The foundational phase, which encompasses the era and domination of the
sipahi cavalry (timarli, timariot) and the creation o f the Sultan’s Janissaries (1400-1650).
2) The middle phase, when the sipahis and the tax-farming systems were in increasing
disarray, and the Janissary organisation, grown to an insupportable and dysfunctional
size, was supplemented by volunteer militias, mercenaries, or irregulars (1650-1800);
3) the era o f radical transition, 1800 onwards, when both sipahi and Janissary systems
were replaced by conscription (introduced in 1820s). Military change was latterly most
often prompted by the increasingly urgent need to mobilise men to defend the north­
ern frontiers with Russia, boundaries characterised by treacherous rivers, disease-ridden
marches, difficult mountain ranges, and vast steppes and plains. These territories were in­
habited by pastoralists and mountain warrior societies, some o f the most mobile peoples
o f Europe, i f not Eurasia.
For the sake o f argument, each o f the three periods can be discussed under the follow­
ing rubrics: ‘networking and political households’ for the 1440-1650 period; ‘manpower
and mobilisation’ for the middle period o f the Empire, and ‘mobility, warrior societies
and violence’ for the final century, recognising their applicability at any historical mo­
ment in any given locale.

Networking and political households 1400-1650

The Ottomans were part o f and heirs to possession o f one o f the most mobile parts of
the world.4 Their organisational genius, studied or not, was a particular ability to create a
series o f what look like spider-web organisations comprised o f an organic family, slaves,
cousins, clients, merchants, and intermediaries when necessary (translators, factors,
representatives in Istanbul, etc.) which characterised their original thrust into Anatolia,
present-day Turkey. Success was by no means certain and hard won, so the charisma of
the first ten Sultans is widely acknowledged, and their proximity to collapsing Byzan­
tine territories paramount. Religious authority was quickly attached to the household of
Osman, with M uslim and Turkic cultures dominant, but the young dynasty embraced
all comers. An extraordinary array o f ethnicities and religious persuasions joined the
enterprise. The question o f their ferocity as Muslim jihadists - gazis - has become a bit
shopworn among historians as the road the success, but to settled peasants, Christian
or otherwise, they would have been terrifying and mesmerising.5 The challenge of the
Ottomans at the edges o f an emerging European consciousness must be acknowledged as
having had a large influence on the development o f European absolutism itself.
Ottoman patrimony was based on the notion o f a political household, which was built
on a widespread slave system, the largest household being that o f the Sultan himself,

4 R. Kasaba, A Moveable Empire: Ottoman Nomads, Migrants and Refugees (Seattle 2009).
5 J. Grehan has recently returned to the question of religious syncretism as one way in which lo­
cals may also have adapted to their new overlords, in Twilight o f the Saints: Everyday Religion
in Ottoman Syria and Palestine (Oxford 2014).
438 V IR G IN IA H. A K SA N

whose beneficence began with his ‘loyal sons’, the Janissaries, and extended to the lowli­
est peasant.6 To be styled a kul (slave) was to be a member o f the Ottoman elite, obviously
a striking distinction between the aristocratic households o f Europe and those o f the Turk­
ish dynasty. All wealth and power derived from the Sultan himself. Naturally, proximity
to the Ottoman dynasty in the House (or Gate) o f Felicity, Darii ’s -saadet, as Istanbul was
known, raised the odds for old and new participants in the rivalry for the Sultan’s favour,
so a system o f representation o f powerful individuals and their households in the capital
emerged over time. So too, the consolidation o f interest groups is evident, such as o f the
Sultan’s private household, headed up by the Black Eunuch, who had privileged access
to the harem; the bureaucracy, which broke completely free o f the kul system only in the
nineteenth century, beginning as a chancery and evolving into a separate administration,
sometimes - often - in conflict with the Sultan, and instrumental in the reforms o f the
nineteenth century. Finally, there was the religious class, under the Chief Religious Of­
ficer, which regulated the Ottoman adoption and perpetuation o f Hanafi sharia law.
The Ottomans demanded loyalty and submission, but also understood state service as
contractual; sharia law in this context is largely about contracts. Sharia law would have
been at first supplemented and then perhaps superseded in some regards by customary and
sultanic law codes, although the evidence for that is still lacking.7 The success o f the first
Sultans was based on a patrimonial style, nominally for all subjects, which extended to
two military systems: the sipahis, as noted, cavalrymen, and their retinues, who were free
men assigned a fief (timar) as a reward for service on imperial campaigns, and the Janis­
saries, who were gathered from newly conquered, largely non-Muslim, territories through
a slave system known as devoirme. The young men were forcibly converted to Islam and
highly trained. Most ended up in the Sultan’s infantry, but the best o f them became the
Sultan’s administrators and advisors.8 Slavery in this context has layers o f nuance. Status
was based on an acceptance o f a contract between the Sultan, his court, and his subjects,
the reaya, or his ‘flock’. By the Siileymanic Age (1520-1566), the benefits for those who
styled themselves Ottomans, and found themselves in the sultanic circles, were enormous.
Tribal and warrior peoples, if not drawn into the charmed military circle in either
o f these ways, that is, as fief-based cavalry, or palace-based infantry, were given spe­

6 ‘Political household’ has come into use through the work of J. Hathaway and P. Brummett,
among others, and suggests that the very construction of an extended nuclear family was in­
fluenced by the constant need to engage/negotiate with the Sultan in Istanbul. The best sum­
mary of the concept is to be found in P. Brummett, ‘Placing the Ottomans in the Mediterranean
World: The Question of Notables and Households’, in D. Quataert and B. Tezcan (eds), Be­
yond Dominant Paradigms in Ottoman and Middle Eastern/North African Studies: a Tribute
to Rifa ’at Abou El Haj (Istanbul 2010), 77-96.
7 The chief argument of the somewhat controversial work by B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman
Empire: Political and Social Transformation in the Early Modern World (Cambridge 2010), is
his assertion that the crisis of the dynasty in the seventeenth century is precisely in the codifi­
cation of sharia law as a limitation to potential sultanic abuse.
8 See V. H. Aksan, ‘War and Peace’ in S. Faroqhi (ed.), The Cambridge History o f Turkey. Vol.
Ill: The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603-1839 (Cambridge 2006), 81-117.
 TH E O TT O M A N S, M ILITA RY M A N PO W E R A N D PO L IT IC A L B A R G A IN S 1750-1850 439

cial roles, such as caravan or mountain pass protection They were left as self-governing
clients in a system known as ocaklik sancak, which may be a uniquely Ottoman way of
dealing with remote, naturally insubordinate, marginal or deeply rooted confederative
warrior cultures.9 The inability or failure to impose sédentarisation on these tribal struc­
tures posed significant problems during the great transformation to a modem military
system after 1800.10
The real networking strengths o f the Ottoman system lay in conversations about pro­
visioning the military. At least until 1700, very large armies moved fairly effectively over
vast distances, a system which engaged the entire population in the business/enterprise
o f war. Imagine an army that marched, at its best, some 13 kilometres a day and was fol­
lowed by an enormous supply train that stretched a day’s march into the distance. In pre­
modem terms, it was a huge and lucrative enterprise, and a means o f demonstrating and
distributing the Sultan’s patrimony, until it became an intolerable burden to the country­
side. The question historians are still asking is when the system became an intolerable
burden on society, and why? In revisiting that question, it is possible to see many political
conversations between Sultan and subject in play by 1650.

Manpower and Mobilisation 1650-1800

By 1700, tax-farming was the primary Ottoman instmment for raising revenue, first
benefiting the imperial elites in the capital, but evolving to empower local families, Janis­
sary or otherwise, and their Istanbul proxies, as the system expanded across the Empire
in life-time (malikane) contracts. One o f the consequences o f this competition for state
resources was the evolution o f a Janissary force which became better known for rebellion
and thuggery than military valour. Members o f the corps, no longer just in Istanbul, but
distributed in large numbers across Ottoman territories in major fortress towns, invested
their insufficient wages in tax-farming, protection, and money-lending enterprises, creat­
ing their own military networks. Simultaneously, the timar system, deeply eroded, could
no longer support the sipahis. Sipahi holdings themselves were swept up in the conver­
sions to the malikane system, just as likely by Janissaries, or state elites. Some charac­
terise this as the privatisation o f public property, although clearly the struggle over state

9 ‘Warrior’ societies embrace both the ‘mercenary’ aspect of soldiering, as in the professional sol­
dier hired occasionally by armies, as well as the ‘martial,’ a term applied by the British to the
‘natural’ propensity of particular colonial peoples in the nineteenth century. As with the term
‘tribal’, it conveys a communal organization based on consanguinity, clientage and self-defence.
10 In Erzurum from 1682-1702, for example, nine of the 17 provinces were ocaklik, granting he­
reditary status to multiple generations of local families. M. Nizri, ‘Defining Village Boundaries
at the Time of the Introduction of the Malikane System: The Struggle of the Ottoman State for
Reaffirming Ownership of the Land’ in K. F. Schull, M. S. Saraçoglu and R. Zens (eds), Law
and Legality in the Ottoman Empire and Republic o f Turkey (Bloomington 2016), 58, explores
the difficulties surrounding property and taxation, highlighting the variability of property ar­
rangements which might include ocakliks, miri, or vakf (waqf) arrangements. In true Ottoman
fashion, no system seems ever to have lapsed, or to have been unilaterally replaced.
440 V IR G IN IA H. A K SA N

versus individual ownership was an old one in the Ottoman context. Perhaps another way
to think about it is to see the emergence o f a transformed political economy o f the Em­
pire, pitting global market forces, the Sultan and his entourage, and largely agricultural
producers in a battle over shrinking resources.
Maintaining a household army, large or small, was typical o f pre-modern rural or­
ganisations in order to protect one’s holdings and family. Such Ottoman networks that
had historically emerged were strengthened themselves by the redistributive system of
this period, and the beneficiaries were reluctant to surrender whatever support (tax farms,
extraordinary campaign taxes, rights to provisioning) that came with military ‘contracts’.
Provincial families and their households, who already understood and participated in
this style o f life to a degree, experienced its dramatic increase with shifting populations,
such as the Janissary retreat from Hungary after 1700. It is noteworthy that all Habs-
burg-Ottoman treaties after 1699 include a clause about the necessity to control frontier-
transgressing soldiers. But, by contrast with both Austrians and Russians, the Ottomans
made no effort to settle or re-deploy their demobilised soldiers. Worsening economic
conditions o f the late seventeenth and early eighteenth-century Ottoman realms, coupled
with contracting borders, increased the creation o f localised sources o f power, which
utilised both indigenous warrior populations and newly minted demobilised mercenaries
for protection and when called upon to contribute to major campaigns.11
Commonly referred to as ayans, a term generally translated as notables, magnates,
or warlords, these power brokers, called ‘partners o f the Empire’ by Ali Yaycioglu, can
be described as “entrepreneurial contractors with large portfolios in the business of
governance who did deals through bids, negotiations, bargains, and offers in a volatile
environment”.12 As part o f their expanding portfolios, they created or enlarged their own
armies, enlisting volunteers from among the Empire’s most difficult populations to con­
trol. Such militias are ubiquitous after 1750 and have been hard to characterise, because
they were guns-for-hire, sometimes by the Sultan him self (levents, sekbam ), sometimes
by enemies o f the royal household, such as Ali Pasha o f loannina, and frequently by Otto­
man enemies such as Russia and Austria. They include Albanians, Kurds, Circassians,
Abkhazians, Georgians, Bosnians, Bedouin/tribal Arabs, and Tatars, all ethnic groups
with simultaneous unruly, autonomous warrior traditions and with a history o f service
to the dynasty. The manpower pool available to the dynasty in this period had evolved
from a centrally controlled to a confederative military system just as Europe itself moved
to centralised, conscription-based armies. This was most evident on the Russo-Ottoman
battlefields o f 1768-1774, when both the assembled forces and the provisioning organisa­
tions collapsed.13 In sum, Ottoman need for manpower not only facilitated the emergence
o f powerful provincial notables but also sanctioned the flourishing o f a style o f life for

11 V. Aksan, ‘Mobilization of Warrior Populations in the Ottoman Context 1750-1850’, in E. J.

Ziircher (ed.), Fightingfor a Living (Amsterdam 2013), 323-343.
12 A. Yaycioglu, Partners o f the Empire: The Crisis o f the Ottoman Order in the Age o f Revolu­
tions (Stanford 2016), 99.
13 Ahmed Resmî, A Summary o f Admonitions: a Chronicle o f the 1768-1774 Russian-Ottoman
 TH E O TT O M A N S, M ILITA RY M A N PO W E R A N D PO L IT IC A L B A R G A IN S 1750-1850 441

the individual warrior/soldier that persisted into the twentieth century. As anthropologist
Michael Meeker has described it, “State officials no longer enjoyed a monopoly of mil­
itary force as they once had during the classical Ottoman period. They were everywhere
confronted with local elites in the coastal districts who were able to mobilize armed fol­
lowings. [T]he two ‘pieces’ o f sovereign power in the imperial system [were] the mech­
anism o f bureaucratic centralism and the tactic o f disciplinary association”.14 M eeker’s
informants in the region o f Trabzon in the 1960s could recall without difficulty 22 aghas
and agha families o f the nineteenth century, the locally entwined elites, or Tittle despots’
o f foreign observers. These were not just the major notables o f the era, but an entire sys­
tem o f military entrepreneurs deeply entrenched by the end o f the eighteenth century.15

Mobility, Warrior Societies, and Violence 1800-1850

If one accepts that mobility in the Eurasian/Mediterranean context was endemic, a particu­
lar style unique to its marginal and inaccessible territories, then what is it that is different
about Ottoman governance concerning warrior populations in the first half o f the nine­
teenth century? One answer is that the lack o f systemic control over the surviving Otto­
man territories, combined with the reverse migrations from Eurasian lands, which acceler­
ated after the Crimean War, reproduced and perpetuated a particularly strong independ­
ent paramilitary culture based on that very mobility, where the strong man o f arms (on
horseback) continued to serve as the provincial model o f security. This is the ba§ibozuk
(master-less, or headless, as in ‘out o f one’s head’) phenomenon, which presents itself in
kinship networks, or clientage warrior bands, or the ubiquitous ‘gun-for-hire’.
The Ottoman understanding and treatment o f such indigenous confederations distin­
guishes it from Russian and/or British imperial/colonial practices in the mid-nineteenth
century. Rather than incorporating ethnic formations into an existing regimental system,

War, trans. E. Menchinger (Istanbul 2011); V. H. Aksan, Ottoman Wars 1700-1870: An Empire
Besieged (Harlow 2007), Chapter 4.
14 M. Meeker, A Nation o f Empire (Berkeley 2002), 185. For a very partial list of recent work
on the notables, see V. H. Aksan, ‘Canikli Ali Pa?a (d. 1785): A Provincial Portrait in Loyalty
and Disloyalty’, in E. Gara, M. E. Kabadayi and C. Neumann (eds), Popular Protest and Po­
litical Participation in the Ottoman Empire: Studies in Honor o f Suraiya Faroqhi (Istanbul
2011), 211-224. For other portraits, see Living Empire: Ottoman Identities in Transition 1700-
1850, V. H. Aksan and V. Çimçek (eds), OA, 44 (2014), with articles on the ayans by T. Esmer,
C. Wilkins, and F. Sel Turhan; R. Zens, ‘Pasvanoglu Osman Pa?a and the Pa?alik of Belgrade,
1791-1807’, IJTS, 8 (2002), 89-105. See also M. S. Saraçoglu, ‘Resilient Notables: Looking at
the Transformation of the Ottoman Empire from the Local Level’ in C. Lipp and M. Romaniello
(eds), Contested Spaces o f Nobility in Early Modern Europe (Famham 2011), 257-277, for an
example from the nineteenth century. Yaycioglu’s Partners of the Empire, Chapter 2, includes
“geographies of notables” Ali Pasha of Iannina, the Çapanoglus, Tirsinikli Ismail of Ruse, etc.
15 Meeker, A Nation, 203; K. §akul, ‘The Evolution of Ottoman Military Logistical Systems in
the Later Eighteenth Century: The Rise of a New Class of Military Entrepreneur’, in J. Fynn-
Paul (ed), War, Entrepreneurs and the State in the Mediterranean 1300-1800 (Leiden 2014),
307-327.
442 V IR G IN IA H. A K SA N

as was the case in Russia with the Cossacks by the end o f the eighteenth century, or pro­
moting a romantic view o f the martial races as pivotal to the maintenance o f empire, more
typically British in the case o f mid-nineteenth century India, with Scots, Rajputs, Sikhs
and Ghirkas being the examples, Sultans Selim III (1789-1807) and Mahmud II (1808-
1839), especially the latter, adopted wholesale a French revolutionary army model, ‘the
nation under arms’, based on mass conscription, that left little space for the collaborative
forms o f defence (and the colourful ethnic diversity they embodied ) which persisted in
the Ottoman hinterlands.16 Instead, a new voice emerged from the conversations about the
end o f the Janissaries, the power o f the notables, and emerging Muslim views on the legit­
imacy o f the Ottomans: the voice o f the imagined ethno-religious nation, which adopted
the warriors as their national heroes.17 The conversations around conscription, citizenship,
and constitutionality that unfolded in Istanbul in this period are uniquely Ottoman, but
must have been deeply infiltrated with the extraordinary excitement of liberation, national
sovereignty, individual rights, and Romanticism that filled the air.
When Sultan Selim III inaugurated his ambitious reform project in the 1790s, Euro­
peans were already aware o f the inability o f the dynasty to secure its borders and protect
its peoples. The long evolution o f the redistribution o f the state revenues to the mar­
gins, and the resilience and resistance o f autonomous warrior communities had left the
Ottoman centre short o f cash, administrators, and military manpower. The two decades
preceding Napoleon’s attack on Egypt were characterised by extended Ottoman warfare
with Russia and Austria, disturbing the countryside and filling the city o f Istanbul with
strange bedfellows and disturbing currents o f resistance. Between 1760 and 1800, prices
tripled, deficit budgets became the norm, and the state occasionally resorted to forced
loans from its officers and country-wide gentry, or confiscation o f their estates, in order
to continue to finance war.
What is noteworthy here is that in all the engagements between the 1790s and the
1830s, both Sultans had to rely on the countryside irregulars and the general population
as well to survive, as the Janissaries had virtually collapsed. As Selim III was addressing
the intractable problem of manpower and military leadership, which simultaneously at­
tacked the entire spidery contractual system and its beneficiaries, the new Franco-British
rivalry, brought first Napoleon Bonaparte, and then the navies o f Britain and Russia into
the eastern Mediterranean. Bonaparte’s invasion in 1799 inaugurated the age o f inter­
national intervention in the Middle East, derailed the nascent Ottoman reform project,
and propelled a propaganda war in an increasingly literate world. As they prepared to
confront Bonaparte on the Nile, Selim III and his advisors were made acutely aware of

16 The literature is increasingly vast on pre-modem global imperial behaviour, but less evident
in the Ottoman context, where the Tanzimat historiography has had a particularly long life. H.
Streets, Martial Races: The Military, Race and Masculinity in British Imperial Culture, 1857-
1914 (Manchester 2014), uses the Indian Mutiny as her starting-point. One can shift her focus
to the Black Sea and the Crimean War as the place where Cossacks, Zouaves, Scots, Hussars,
and Bafibozuks converged, ‘ethnic nations’ of a military sort
17 Yaycioglu, Partners, 244.
 T H E O TT O M A N S, M ILITA RY M A N PO W E R A N D PO L IT IC A L B A R G A IN S 1750-1850 443

the dire state o f the imperial defences on land and at sea. Selim Ill’s Francophilia and
sense o f isolation forced him to engage for the first time in international politics in the
cities o f Europe rather than just Istanbul.18
Moreover, Selim III ordered experimentation with the tools o f the ‘modem state’:
population control through registration o f migrant and vagrant populations and the use
o f guarantors (kefil) (revival o f an old practice in a new guise); the use o f anti-Bonaparte
propaganda on the streets o f Cairo, and the creation o f a cabinet familiar with European
languages and institutions, Selim III was keen to restore order to both Istanbul and the
provinces, and had considerable success in raising new troops, building new barracks in
Istanbul, re-organising the grain trade to feed both troops and the ever-hungry population
o f Istanbul, and modernising the navy to partner with the British and Russians in remov­
ing Bonaparte from the eastern Mediterranean. In spite o f the many advances, he lost the
confidence o f and was ultimately repudiated by his population.19
By October 1800, Bonaparte had slipped from Egypt to France to greater glory, but
French troops remained in occupation o f Cairo. In a joint military effort, beginning
March 1801, the British and Ottomans landed their troops in Aboukir and were joined
by the unruly cobbled- together Ottoman imperial army which marched overland from
Palestine to Alexandria. The combined forces routed the French, and the last French
troops embarked from Alexandria in September 1801 on British ships. Franco-Ottoman
hostilities officially ceased with the Treaty o f Paris in June 1802, which renewed all
French commercial treaties, and re-established their diplomatic predominance in Istanbul
- much to the chagrin o f the British. The last British troops left Egypt in March 1803.
But the British were not finished with Egypt or Istanbul. As Europe took up its battle
with Bonaparte once more, in the War o f the Third Coalition, Selim III was embold­
ened by news o f the massive French victory at Austerlitz (December 1805) to recognise
Bonaparte as Emperor (February 1806), and close the Dardanelles to Russian warships.
The Russians declared war on the Ottomans immediately and occupied Moldavia by
December 1806, more worried by French proximity to and influence on Selim III then
potential Ottoman belligerence. Ay an o f Rusçuk Alemdar M ustafa Pasha mobilised the
countryside along the Danube and successfully prevented the Russians from crossing the
Danube in that first thrust.

18 Ahmed Cevdet records Selim Ill’s supposed outrage at discovering that two of his barbers
claimed membership of the artillery corps, Aksan, Ottoman Wars, 202; see also V. H. Aksan,
‘Locating the Ottomans in Napoleons’ World’, in U. Planert (ed.), Napoleon's Empire: Euro­
pean Politics in Global Perspective (London 2015), 277-290.
19 Çakul, ‘The Evolution’, 312-319; B. Baçaran, Selim III, Social Control and Policing in Istan­
bul at the End o f the Eighteenth Century: Between Crisis and Order (Leiden 2014); Z. Abdul-
Magd, Imagined Empires: A History o f Revolt in Egypt (Berkeley 2013), 57ff; T. Zorlu, Inno­
vation and Empire in Turkey: Sultan Selim III and Modernisation o f the Ottoman Navy (Lon­
don 2008); A. Yildiz, ‘Vaka-yi Selimiyye or The Selimiyye Incident: a Study of the May 1807
Rebellion’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Sabanci University, 2008.
444 V IR G IN IA H. A K SA N

Vue de Constantinople. 1807 hand-painted engraving,

Anne S. K. Brown Military Collection, Brown University Library.

So things stood, when, in February 1807, the British broke the Dardanelles blockade
and sailed into Istanbul with warships in support o f Russia, but found the French forti­
fying and enabling the resistance o f the population to the British. French Ambassador
Sébastiani had rounded up some 200 French officers and aides to man the batteries along­
side the Ottoman artillerymen. Every available weapon was mobilised, and within a few
days, the shores o f the city were bristling with cannon. Crowds o f the city’s young men
volunteered for service against British and Russians alike. It was perhaps the last moment
that Selim III enjoyed the approbation o f the streets o f Istanbul, as the population waved
goodbye to the British fleet on 3 March, and celebrated as the warships sailed through the
Dardanelles. Still worried about possible French control o f Egypt, the British made one
more attempt to land at Alexandria, but were repulsed by Mehmed Ali, soon to become
the new Ottoman Governor, an avowed reformer himself, and head o f his own warriors,
Albanian /events.
The massive rebellion o f May 1807 followed on the deployment o f the ‘new or­
der’ soldiers in place o f the Janissaries in Rumelia, and just three months after the Brit­
ish naval expedition was successfully turned away from Istanbul’s harbour.20 Though it
began as a factional palace coup against the imposition o f new-style military uniforms,
the revolt outgrew its initiators, stimulated by socio-economic conditions, migrant popu­
lations and foreigners on the streets o f Istanbul, especially soldiers, sporting revolution­
ary cockades and singing the Marseillaise. The rebellion can be imagined as the ‘Otto­
man revolution’ which aimed to restore the traditional relationship between Sultan and
subject, at least as understood by commoners, Janissaries and military contractors who
saw their privileges disappearing.21

20 F. Ye§il, ‘Istanbul Ônlerinde Bir îngiliz Filosu: Uluslararasi Bir Krizin Siyasî ve Asked Anato-
misi’, in S. Kenan (ed.), Nizâm-i Kadîm’den Nizâm-i Cedîd’e III. Selim ve Dônemi (Istanbul
2011), 391-493.
21 Yildiz, ‘Vaka-yi Selimiyye’, 770. Also, A. Yildiz, ‘The “Louis XVI of the Turks”: The Charac-
 TH E O TT O M A N S, M ILITA RY M A N PO W E R A N D PO L ITIC A L B A RG A IN S 1750-1850 445

Meanwhile, in Rusçuk, Selim III loyalists assembled a new generation o f reformers

and provincial ayans under Alemdar Mustafa Pasha. In mid-July 1808, Alemdar Mustafa
and the Grand Vizier’s imperial army marched on Istanbul, with 15,000 troops. That in
itself was a novelty. By the end o f July, order had returned to the city. Alemdar imposed
strict discipline among his soldiers to restore confidence in the population. Unable to
save Selim III, who had been hastily executed by his successor Sultan Mustafa IV be­
fore his own death, Alemdar rescued the young prince Mahmud, and installed him as
Sultan Mahmud II. The assembled provincial notables then negotiated a contract with
the new Sultan which was a complete novelty o f Ottoman governance o f any period. If
the Sened-i ittifak (Deed o f Agreement, or Charter o f Alliance), then reluctantly signed
by the young Sultan, is closely examined, it will be seen that the rights o f local notables
to inheritable estates are legitimated with the promise o f the support o f the Sultan, his
military and taxation rights. It stands as a signal moment in the transition to the consti­
tutionalism conversations that characterise the last hundred years o f the Empire. In the
context here, it is equally important to understand the significance o f the presence o f the
warrior societies in the assembled armies.
But the agreement proved very fragile, as Sultan Mahmud II, who hated it, undertook
a ruthless transformative programme to eliminate his regional rivals. His was also the
task o f manoeuvering Great Power diplomacy to prevent the complete dissolution o f the
Empire; o f facing the shocking disloyalty o f his Serbian and Greek subjects as the age o f
nationalism unfolded; and, finally, o f responding to the supra-rebellion o f his Egyptian
rival Mehmed Ali, not settled until after Mahmud IPs death in 1839. It is tempting to
view the entire Mahmud II period as an Ottoman Reign o f Terror, which resulted in the
introduction o f the Napoleonic regimental system and conscription to an outmoded mil­
itary and highly reluctant population. All o f these developments involved intra-cultural
conversations which we are beginning to understand in ways different from the old East­
ern Question tropes.
The first significant move Mahmud II made against his subjects was to remove the
Janissaries. In 1826, after significant planning, and with the accord o f the Istanbul street,
the Sultan eliminated both the Janissaries and the Ottoman contractual and multi-con­
fessional system they represented. That this occurred simultaneously with the on-going
Greek Rebellion helps to explain at least partially what followed. In 1821, Mahmud II
had already ordered an unprecedented census o f the population in a very deliberate effort
to identify the ethno-religious percentages o f the city, and isolate ‘disloyal’ subjects. The
Janissary dissolution itself was followed by an inquisition o f individual Janissaries, and a
public performance to discredit the corps for having been infiltrated with ‘infidel’ traitors.
A smear campaign followed to discredit the corps entirely. Censuses followed in Anatolia
and Rumelia as a prerequisite for creating a brand new army, known as the Trained Vic­
torious Soldiers o f Muhammad (Asakir-i Mansure-i Muhammediyè), distinctly Muslim
and increasingly, though less obviously, Turkish.22

ter of an Ottoman Sultan’, Middle Eastern Studies, 50 (2014), 272-290.

22 V. Çimçek, ‘The Grand Strategy of the Ottoman Empire, 1826-1824’, unpublished Ph.D. dis-
446 V IR G IN IA H. A K SA N

A prime obstacle to the expansion o f his rebuilt forces continued to be financial.

Mahmud II debased coinage more than ten times, and confiscated the estates o f two of
his wealthy Jewish families - who each had more money than the annual revenues o f the
Ottoman centre - violating a centuries-old understanding on the distribution and sharing
o f revenues, however ill-applied by 1800. Remarkably, there was no consistent effort
by the Sultan to reconstruct his cavalry, except o f course, in the palace guard around
him. Scarcity o f both funds and horses and mules is among the more recent explanations
found for this, but a deep distrust o f the Greek and Serbian peripheries and his governor
o f Egypt, as well as anger at the interventionism o f the Great Powers was also at work.23
While there is some disagreement among historians about the extent o f ‘intention’ in
the acts o f the new Sultan, there is little doubt a new ‘nation under arms’, Muslim and
Turkish, emerged from Mahmud II’s ruthless crushing o f the cross-imperial spider net­
works described above.24 There is also little doubt that the military reforms engineered by
both Mehmed Ali o f Egypt and Mahmud II had a devastating impact on fragile agrarian
populations, and in both cases resulted in further disruptions o f traditional networks, mas­
sive rebellions, and waves o f ecological disasters such as plague/cholera and famines.25
M ost striking in this era o f transformation is the apparent willingness o f Mahmud
II to turn his back on the foundational source o f Ottoman power: the mobile warrior
tradition in all its colourful ethnic and religious diversity, the generic ba§ibozuk. By the
time o f the Crimean War, baçibozuks were officially included as irregulars in the military
ranks, but remained largely outside the control o f the official military. To man the battle­
fields, Mahmud not only homogenised the idea o f an Ottoman soldier, he tore up the
self-governing agreements with Albanians, Kurds, and Bedouins in his desperate fight
with M ehmed Ali o f Egypt. The Ottoman administration, which, for a variety o f reasons,
resisted the conscription o f non-Muslims until the very last moment o f empire, exhausted

sertation, McMaster University, 2016, 81-93; 142-144.

23 Aksan, Ottoman Wars, 330-334. W. Clarence-Smith, ‘Horses, Mules and Other Animals as a
Factor in Ottoman military performance, 1683-1918’, War Horses Conference @SOAS 2014,
https://www.soas.ac.uk/history/conferences/war-horses-conference-2014/ [abstract title: Ani­
mal Power as a Factor in Ottoman Military Decline 1683-1918’] (accessed November 2018).
24 H. Ç. Ilicak, ‘A Radical Rethinking of Empire: Ottoman State and Society During the Greek
war of Independence (1821-1826)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 2011,
Chapter 2, argues that in the struggle against the Greeks, Mahmud and his advisors relied on
Ibn Khaldunian tropes of a decayed civilisation as the reason for Ottoman decline, and called
on all Muslims to return to the state of tribal robustness (bedeviyyet) and readiness represented
in the Khaldunian cycle of dynasties, a curious use of the warrior ethos. See also Marinos Sari-
yannis’ contribution to the present volume.
25 Egypt is said to have lost one-sixth of its population to plague and famine 1783-1785. A. Mikh­
ail, ‘Ottoman Iceland: A Climate History’, Environmental History, 20 (2015), 274. Abdul-
Magd, Imagined Empires, spares no quarter with her litany of imperial disasters inflicted on the
long autonomous Flawwara tribal confederations of Upper Egypt; G. Yildiz, Neferin Adi Yok:
Zorunlu Askerlige Geçiç Siirecinda Osmanli Devleti’nde Siyaset, Orduve Toplum (1826-1839)
(Istanbul 2009); T. Heinzelmann, Cihaddan Vatan Savunmasina: Osmanli imparatolugu ’nda
Genel Askerlik Yükümlülügü 1826-1856 (Istanbul 2009).
 TH E O TT O M A N S, M ILITA R Y M A N PO W E R A N D PO L ITIC A L B A RG A IN S 1750-1850 447

a limited population o f peasants and the urban poor, with predictable results.
The struggle to conscript Kurds, Bedouins, and Albanians, especially in the effort
to confront the Egyptian upstart, ignited an Empire-wide resistance to conscription that
exploded in large-scale rebellions across Ottoman territories, some challenging the right
o f the dynasty to bear the title o f Caliph. Many were a response to the stripping of the
privileges o f private, contract armies - and to the end o f centuries of contractual agree­
ments with the Ottoman centre. This challenge by the Muslim populations o f the Empire
has recently received some long overdue attention and complicates the more simplistic
Tanzimat/modernism teleology by arguing that the Mahmud II period and later repre­
sents a turn to internal colonialism on the part o f a desperate government.26
Mehmed A li’s challenge eventually forced Mahmud II to sign the Anglo-Ottoman
Treaty o f 1838 as a means o f survival. The treaty awarded the British first-nation status,
allowed for deep penetration into the countryside by merchants and foreign consuls alike,
and drew the Ottomans further into the global economy. Striking at the heart o f the redis­
tributive system, the new global trading system stripped the (Muslim) economy further
o f its provisioning networks. The imperial rivalry for horses and mules, acute during the
Crimean War, is certainly one example, where a lively trade in horses from Basra to India
had already served to remove a ready supply o f horses from the Sultan’s reach.27 The
long arm o f British protection had the effect of shifting economic power into the hands of
Christian elites who had more consistent reach into the colonial projects o f the European
powers than their fellow Muslim citizens. This too is a raucous conversation underlying
the Tanzimat reforms.
Over time, multiple imperial overlords and extra-territoriality led to a partial division
o f Ottoman citizens into military elites and merchant classes, the former Turkish and
Muslim, the latter primarily Christian minorities, notably in large numbers in port cities,
who were imbued with the excitement o f the revolutionary age, the call for liberation,
and the end o f the global slave trade, which stirred up resistance in the entire Mediter­
ranean world.28 A cacophony o f voices emerged, a more typical European post-1848

26 H. Erdem, ‘“Perfidious Albanians” and “Zealous Governors”: Ottomans, Albanians and Turks
in the Greek War of Independence’, in A. Anastasopoulos and E. Kolovos (eds), Ottoman Rule
and the Balkans, 1760-1850: Conflict, Transformation, Adaptation (Rethymno 2007), 213-
240: a series of communiqués on the Albanian forces by Ottoman commanders in the Morea
in 1822 illustrates precisely the negotiations between contractual forces suspicious of Otto­
man intentions and the new Ottoman leadership preference for conscripted and loyal Muslim
troops. F. Anscombe, State, Faith and Nation in Ottoman and Post-Ottoman Lands (Cam­
bridge 2014) sees much of the nineteenth-century Albanian resistance as a distinct rejection of
Ottoman Islam; see also his ‘Islam and Ottoman Reform’, Past and Present, 208 (2010), 159-
189; I. Blumi’s, Reinstating the Ottomans: Alternative Balkan Modernities 1800-1912 (New
York 2011), T. Kuhn, Empire, Islam and Politics o f Difference (Leiden 2011), and M. Minawi,
The Ottoman Scramble for Africa (Stanford 2016) all address the problem of security and on­
going conversations about Ottoman/Muslim modernity.
27 W. Clarence-Smith, ‘Horses, Mules and Other Animals’, 8, but also A. Mikhail’s The Animals
in Ottoman Egypt (New York 2014).
28 See A. Koçunyan, ‘The Transcultural Dimension of the Ottoman Constitution’, in P. W. Firges,
448 V IR G IN IA H. A K SA N

conversation about citizenship and constitutionality. The ‘imagined communities’ that

arose each had multiple constitutional visions to contribute to the century-long debate
about Ottoman citizenship and loyalty, eroding the last few vestiges o f the sultan-slave
patrimonial relationships and the spider networks that were foundational to the Empire
and essential to its perpetuation.
These communities (‘nations’) co-opted not just the political conversation but also
the iconographie images o f the warrior tradition. Janissary-style costumes, ubiquitous in
the bafibozuk paintings o f Jean-Léon Gérôme, became the national costumes o f Alban­
ian and Greeks, and inspired the French Zouaves, Europeans in mufti, while Mahmud
II and his successors exerted a constant, though unsuccessful, effort to incorporate them
as irregulars into the new homogenised forces. Occasionally, baçibozuks functioned as
countryside gendarmes, but more often they persisted as the enforcers o f local strong­
men. The word ba§ibozuk in Ottoman realms became synonymous with barbarism and
brutality, especially after the so-called ‘Bulgarian Atrocities’ incident o f 1876, which be­
came a cause célèbre in Europe, contributing to the dismantling o f the Balkan territories
o f the Ottomans at the Congress o f Berlin in 1878.
Ottoman Muslim elites were having a parallel, if different, conversation about a trans­
formed state. Obviously, like the non-Muslim populations, they were similarly convulsed
in the transitional period 1750-1850, but had become essential to the security o f the Em­
pire as the prime cannon fodder. Among Muslim ‘imagined communities’, the Ottoman
suitability as the Caliph o f the Muslim umma was in question as part o f a debate about
piety, reform, causality, and imperial success, exacerbated by the Napoleonic moment,
but on-going since the mid eighteenth century.
In conclusion, the argument laid out here reflects in part the author’s participation in
a three-year research project about military manpower, ‘Fighting for a Living’, hosted by
the International Institute for Social History in Amsterdam, under the direction o f Erik
Jan Ziircher.29 It is not intended to reify the age-old tropes about Ottoman ferocity or
paranoia, but rather to suggest that Eurasia, viewed diachronically, has a particular con­
tribution to make to our understanding o f how multi-confessional, multi-cultural empires
were sustained. One consequence o f moving to the macro-regional level is to restore
linearity to pre- and post-World War I histories o f the Middle East, especially as relates
to Republican Turkey, but no less true o f the Balkan Communists and the Arab Mandate
military democracies. Equally, the story has been about the political nature and ecology
o f the frontiers o f empires, where subjugated peasants and warrior peoples envisioned
and negotiated multiple agendas o f liberation.

T. P. Graf, C. Roth, and Giiley Tulasoglu (eds), Well-Connected Domains: Towards an Entan­
gled Ottoman History (Leiden, 2014), 235-258. See on slavery and emancipation C. A. Bay-
ly, The Birth o f the Modern World 1780-1914: Global Connections and Comparisons (Oxford
2004).
29 E. J. Ziircher (ed.), Fightingfor a Living: a Comparative Study o f Military Labour 1500-1200
(Amsterdam 2013), open source http://en.aup.nl/books/9789089644527-fighting-for-a-living.
html
 JANISSARY POLITICS ON THE OTTOMAN PERIPHERY
(18TH-EARLY 19™ C.)

Y annis S pyropoulos ’

T his a r t ic l e ’s m a in th esis is th at , ‘towards the end o f its lifespan, the Janissary corps
became an increasingly decentralised institution, a fact that redefined its political stance
vis-à-vis the Ottoman government, its own central administration, and its involvement
in provincial politics.*1 In the course o f the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, its
political power passed mainly into the hands o f low-ranking officers who, following a
series o f reforms, took the opportunity to create strong bonds with local societies. Such
bonds were defined by ‘bottom u p ’ networking processes which allowed the regiments in
the provinces to follow a trajectory o f increased administrative and financial emancipa­
tion from Istanbul. The result was the creation o f various different organisational struc­
tures inside the corps, which developed their own distinct characteristics, but remained,
at the same time, organically connected to one another through a common institutional
and legitimising frame o f reference. By taking a close look at the case o f the Janissaries
o f Crete, I thus argue that in order for us to understand the political role o f the Janissar­
ies in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, we have to start looking away from
Istanbul and examine their history mainly from a provincial perspective.

I. T h e J a n is s a r y C o r p s a s a D e c e n t r a l is e d I n s t it u t io n

The Janissary establishment was never static. It evolved immensely through time and
the Ottoman central government played a major role in this process, since for centuries
Istanbul developed new sets o f rules and methods in order to ensure the corps’ alignment
with its political mindset. The significance o f Janissaries as safe-keepers o f sultanic au­
thority in the Empire increased as the territory o f the Ottoman state expanded. Janissary

* Foundation for Research and Technology-Hellas, Institute for Mediterranean Studies.

1 Research for this paper was carried out in the framework of the project “Janissary networks in
early modem Mediterranean, 18th-early 19th centuries”, funded by the Greek State Scholar­
ships Foundation (IKY) within the action “Funding of postdoctoral research” with funds from
the Operational Program Education and Lifelong Learning, NSRF 2014-2020, priority axes 6,
8 and 9, co-funded by Greece and the European Social Fund.
450 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

garrisons were stationed in all strategically important fortresses, and the corps was given
the status o f one o f the four ‘pillars’ o f provincial administration alongside the sancakbe-
gis, the kadis, and the defterdars. The four institutions were independent o f one another
and reported straight to Istanbul, thus maintaining a system o f checks and balances and
giving prominence to the Sultan as the ultimate arbitrator in the Empire’s provincial af­
fairs. Unfortunately for the central government, though, as Janissary garrisons were be­
ing established in an ever-growing number o f imperial fortresses away from the capital,
maintaining control over them became an increasingly complicated task.
One way o f keeping the Janissaries on the state’s periphery under central control
was through financial means. The imperial treasury was responsible for the yearly dis­
tribution o f revenues destined for the corps’ salaries and, in order to prevent the latter’s
entanglement in the interests o f provincial financial/political networks, it did its best to
keep the resources used for the payments o f different Janissary garrisons detached from
the localities to which they were appointed.2 Another method used for restraining the
power o f the Janissaries in the provinces was the periodical rotation o f their regiments
from one fortress to another every three years.3 This measure aimed at limiting the corps’
interaction with the Ottoman provincial economies and societies, while keeping most of
its combatant soldiers from remaining idle in Istanbul for long periods, a recipe for the
creation o f political effervescence in the capital.
Although at its core the idea that the imperial Janissary corps was an agent o f sultanic
authority remained intact through the years, the augmentation o f its size in the post-Siil-
eymanic era fundamentally remoulded its fmancial-cww-political status vis-à-vis the Ot­
toman centre. Combined with the deteriorating condition o f the Empire’s economy in the
second half o f the sixteenth century, measures originally used for controlling the corps
turned into liabilities. In this vein, the overcomplicated centrally-regulated system o f re­
allocation o f financial resources used for the corps’ salary distributions led to constant
delays in the payment o f the numerous provincial Janissary garrisons.4 As a result, in
the course o f the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, payment-related uprisings in the
capital and various fortresses on the Empire’s periphery became a regular phenomenon,
while an ever-increasing amount o f tax resources started being permanently allocated for
the payment o f specific provincial garrisons in the form o f ocakliks.5

2 In Crete, for instance, the sources of payment of the imperial Janissary garrisons were con­
stantly changing. Thus, the soldiers were being paid one year from revenues coming from the
Peloponnese, another year from Lebanon, from Aydm, and so on; Turkish Archive of Herak-
leio (TAH) 18:68; TAH.15:358; TAH.23:12; BOA, C.AS.841/35909; BOA, C.AS. 1106/48950;
BOA, C.AS. 1078/47511; BOA, C.AS.460/19185; BOA, C.BH.213/9933; Archives Nationales
de France (ANF), Affaires Etrangères (AE), Bl, La Canée, Vol. 9 (5 January 1749).
3 I. H. Uzunçarçih, Osmanh Devleti Teskilâtindan Kapukulu Ocaklan, Vol. 1 (Ankara 1988), 325.
4 M. L. Stein, Guarding the Frontier: Ottoman Border Forts and Garrisons in Europe (London
and New York 2007), 126-128.
5 For the use of ocakliks as a method of payment of the Ottoman garrisons in Bosnia and Crete,
see M. R. Hickok, Ottoman Military Administration in Eighteenth-Century Bosnia (Leiden,
New York and Cologne 1997), 42-53 and TAH.33:69-70; BOA, C.AS. 1145/50890.
 JANISSARY POLITICS ON THE OTTOMAN PERIPHERY (18m-EARLY 19™ C.) 451

In view o f the difficulties that the state faced in financing the corps o f a policy of
frozen salaries which inevitably followed the scaling up o f the Ottoman arm y’s size,
and o f the inflationary tendencies in the Empire’s economy following the first half of the
sixteenth century, it comes as no surprise that a twofold process o f financial emancipa­
tion o f the Janissaries from centrally controlled institutions started to unfold. At an indi­
vidual level, an ever increasing number o f soldiers began to be involved in non-military
financial activities, while, at an institutional one, the regiments’ common funds (sandik)
started looking for alternative ways to increase their income, mainly through large-scale
investments in real estate and interest loans. This tendency, which was already gaining
momentum in late sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Istanbul,6 reached its peak in many
places where Janissary garrisons were stationed throughout the eighteenth century.
Similar decentralisation processes were also taking place at an administrative level.
Privileges granted to the Janissary corps in order to minimise its dependence on authori­
ties with potentially centrifugal tendencies, like provincial governors, turned into one of
the Janissaries’ main instruments for avoiding central control. Their right to extradition
only by their own officers, combinèd with their access to the means o f violence, made
them virtually unanswerable to other imperial agents and gave them an overpowering
position vis-à-vis authorities such as sancakbegis and kadis, whose main defence mecha­
nism against the Janissaries was to appeal to Istanbul for intervention, a procedure that
often resulted in even more tensions and large-scale uprisings.
The eighteenth century can be seen as the pinnacle o f this trajectory o f decentralisa­
tion. Ironically, it was three measures that the Ottoman government itself put into effect
that contributed most to its culmination. Two o f them were part o f a financial reform
which overturned the corps’ old system o f payments. It was the same need for cash which
had led Istanbul to the adoption o f the malikâne reform in 1695, which brought about,
some time before 1736,7 the outsourcing o f the office o f the paymaster o f the Janis­
sary organisation to wealthy individuals from outside the corps, the ocak bazirgâns. This
measure was followed by the legalisation o f the buying and selling o f Janissary titles of
payment in 1740.8 Selling Janissary pay-certificates was already an established practice
in the black markets o f the imperial capital. Its official authorisation by M ahmud I was
a measure which prompted the titles’ unofficial holders to register such transactions,
thus rendering them more controllable and profitable for the ocak bazirgâns. In this way,
the latter acquired a better idea o f what the true size o f the Janissary establishment was,
while the financial leverage o f the central fisc on them increased. The third measure was
part o f a general eighteenth-century policy o f reducing the operational costs o f the Janis-

6 G. Yilmaz, ‘The Economic and Social Role of Janissaries in a 17th Century Ottoman City:
The Case of Istanbul’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, McGill University, Faculty of Graduate
Studies and Research, Institute of Islamic Studies (Montreal 2011), 2, 175-243.
7 Uzunçarçili, Kapukulu Ocaklari, 1:408.
8 H. A. Reed, ‘Ottoman Reform and the Janissaries: The Eçkenci Lâhiyasi of 1826’, in O. Okyar
and H. inalcik (eds), Tiirkiye'nin Sosyal ve Ekonomik Tarihi (1071-1920) (Ankara 1980), 194;
EP, s.v. ‘Yeni Ceri’ (R. Murphey), 328; B. Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire: Political and
Social Transformation in the Early Modern World (Cambridge 2010), 205, 209, 225.
452 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

sary organisation, while weakening its political strength at the Empire’s capital.9 This
reform, which took place approximately at the same time as the two above-mentioned
measures, aimed at the decrease and the ultimate cessation o f the periodical rotations of
Janissary regiments in provincial fortresses. As a result, by the mid eighteenth century, all
regiments deployed on the Ottoman periphery were tied to specific locations.10
If we look at such measures from the viewpoint o f the Ottoman capital, it is difficult
to understand the great impact which they had on the economic and political life o f the
Ottoman Empire. Istanbul, which hosted the corps’ headquarters and training camps, was
home to the largest Janissary garrison in the Empire and one o f the few places where, for
centuries, non-combatant and trainee Janissaries resided en masse alongside their active
comrades-in-arms. All Janissary regiments had a considerable number o f soldiers with
a permanent presence in the city,11 a fact that helped them preserve their local networks
even when sent out to war or appointed to provincial garrisons for a number o f years.
This stable Janissary presence was one o f the main reasons why Istanbul became one
o f the first places in the Empire where the corps started to intermingle with the local
,population and to be involved in the local economy. Consequently, by the time the above
reforms were implemented, the Ottoman capital was already a place where extended
Janissary networks were dominating the city’s economic and political life.12 Yet, this was
not the case with the rest o f the Empire.
It is true that, by the end o f the sixteenth century, groups o f Janissaries who had the
right to permanently reside in fortresses outside Istanbul had increased in size and that
the gradual decline o f the dev§irme system gave the Muslim population in many prov­
inces access to the corps.13 It is also true that, even since the seventeenth century, in many
provinces with Janissary garrisons, members o f the corps had been involved in the local
financial and political life.14 Yet, it would be misleading to assert that, before the eigh­
teenth century, the ties o f the Janissaries’ with the Empire’s provincial population were

9 I. Mouradgea d’Ohsson, Tableau général de l ’Empire othoman, Vol. 7 (Paris 1824), 7:331.
10 In Crete, the measure’s implementation started in the 1730s and was completed before the end
of the 1750s. According to Uzunçarçih, sources like Koçi Bey, Silahdar, and Naima mention
that the three-year rotation period of Janissary regiments in provincial fortresses was still in ef­
fect during the seventeenth century; Uzunçarçih, Kapukulu Ocaklan, 1:325. In the late 1780s,
Mouradgea d’Ohsson wrote: “Les Ortas restent en permanence dans les places fortes qui leur
ont été assignées; on ne les déplace en temps de paix que lorsqu 'il éclate entre deux compa­
gnies une animosité dangereuse”', Mouradgea d’Ohsson, Tableau général, 7:321. For the mea­
sure’s implementation in Vidin, see R. Gradeva, ‘Between Hinterland and Frontier: Ottoman
Vidin, Fifteenth to Eighteenth Centuries’, in A. C. S. Peacock (ed.), The Frontiers o f the Otto­
man World (New York 2009), 340-341.
11 For a detailed description of the distribution of Janissaries in various fortresses and Istanbul in
the years 1663-1664, see Yilmaz, ‘Economic and Social Role of Janissaries’, 251-267.
12 Ibid., 112, 175-243.
13 Kavanin-i Yeniçeriyan: Yeniçeri Kanunlari,ed.T.Toroser (Istanbul 2008), 77-78, 81,100,102-
105, 138-139.
14 See, for instance, A. Raymond, Le Caire des janissaires: L ’apogée de la ville ottomane sous
‘Abdal-Rahmân Kathudâ (Paris 1995), 13-14, 21.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA RLY 19™ C .) 453

developing at the same pace and had the same stability as those established in the case
o f Istanbul. This becomes clear if we consider the difficulties created in this direction by
the constant mobility o f Janissary regiments from one fortress to another. The periodi­
cal rotation o f regiment officers limited their connection with provincial societies. To a
large part o f the Empire’s Muslim population, joining the corps seemed a non-viable
‘investment’, since entering one o f its regiments meant that, if not granted a status of
permanence in provincial garrisons,15 they could eventually be sent to another fortress
away from their homeland, families, and businesses. It thus comes as no surprise that,
in the seventeenth century, one o f the most popular channels used by Ottoman Muslims
to enter the Empire’s military apparatus was through the various local (yerlii) military
forces that existed on the Empire’s periphery. Such local corps, among which local Janis­
sary units (yerlü yeniçeriyâri), which are not to be confused with their imperial counter­
parts (dergâh-i âli yeniçerileri),16 gave a considerable number o f people in the provinces
the opportunity to participate in the Ottoman system o f administration, offering them a
steady salary and tax-exemptions.17 Yet, they did not offer the same amount o f privileges

15 Usually this status was granted to soldiers through the title of ‘yamak’. The yamaks were Janis­
saries who had the right to remain in the garrisons of specific fortresses even if their regiments
were stationed elsewhere.
16 It is a common mistake of modem historiography to confuse the recruits of such local forces
with the members of the imperial Janissary corps. The confusion often stems from the fact that
these different categories of soldiers bore the same titles, such as ‘be$e’, a word used some­
times abusively as an indicator of imperial Janissary presence in various areas. In fact, this ti­
tle could refer to low-ranking soldiers of all sorts of different local and imperial corps, such as
cebecis, topçis, etc. It should be noted, though, that, depending on the political circumstanc­
es, a vague institutional connection between local and imperial Janissaries could be claimed
or denied by local people or the Ottoman government in different regions of the Empire. For
example, in the case of Bosnia, where the abolition of the Janissary corps proved to be a very
difficult task, the central government, in order to prevent a coalition between the two military
groups, maintained that the local Janissaries did not have to be abolished because they were
not institutionally connected to the imperial corps. In Crete, on the other hand, where the 1821
Greek Revolution neutralised any popular reactions to the abolition of the corps, the govern­
ment claimed that the local Janissaries originated from the imperial ones, and, thus, had to
be abolished. For the case of Bosnia, see F. Sel-Turhan, ‘Rebelling for the Old Order: Otto­
man Bosnia 1826-1836’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Bogaziçi University, 2009, 104-106.
For Crete, see BOA, HAT.289/17345 where we read the following: “Memalik-i mahrusede
ba’zi mahallerdeyerlii hull ta ’biriyle bulinan yerlii neferâti yeniçeri takmmdan haric ise de
cezire-i mezkûrede yerlii yeniçeri denilen yerlii kuh olmayub bunlar mukaddema hîn-i fetihde
biragilmiç ve orta ta 'biriyle bulmanlar dahi sonradan buradan gônderilmiç olarak iki takimi
dahi yeniçeri olub yevmiyeleri dahi bu tarafdakiler gibi beynlerinde beyi ve §ira ile kendiil-
erine me ’kel olm if\
17 Even before the second half of the sixteenth century, maintaining salaried local corps was used
extensively by Istanbul in serhad areas like Hungary, in order to have soldiers constantly in
position for expeditions and to reduce the expenses of long-distance transportation of large im­
perial forces; K. Hegyi, ‘The Ottoman Military Force in Hungary’, in G. David and R Fodor
(eds), Hungarian-Ottoman Military and Diplomatic Relations in the Age o f Siileyman the Mag­
nificent (Budapest 1994), 132-133, 139-140.
454 Y ANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

and protection provided by the imperial Janissary corps to its members. Enjoying no
jurisdictional autonomy from local authorities and being dependent on local defterdars,
for their payments, the soldiers o f local corps were usually much easier to control by
the provincial administration.18 Moreover, the authorities at the sancak level had direct
access to their payrolls, a fact that left little space for the creation o f networks beyond
their regiments, since it was easier for outsiders to discern who was a member o f their
organisation and who was not.
Basically, what the reforms o f the first half o f the eighteenth century did was that they
gave the opportunity to a large number o f imperial Janissary regiments to settle perma­
nently in specific provinces, as was the case with the local corps, while preserving the
privileges stemming from their status as agents o f Istanbul. Furthermore, they allowed
their financial and administrative independence from the centre to increase as not only
did the palace give its right to control the corps’ payments away to private individuals,
but also the central Janissary administration distanced itself from the officers at a regi­
ment level. This, o f course, meant the acceleration o f a decentralisation process inside
the corps itself.
The cessation o f the regiments’ periodical rotations provided low and mid-ranking of­
ficers, such as çorbacis, odabaçis, and a§çis, with the opportunity to create much stronger
affiliations with provincial societies and to become influential power-brokers at a sancak
level. In theory, an officer could not accept an unlimited number o f soldiers into his
regiment, as it was up to the central Janissary administration and the ocak bazirgâns to
define the number o f Janissary pay certificates available for each regiment and provincial
garrison. In practice, though, since most people were mainly interested in the privileges
and protection offered by the corps and not in its meagre salaries, this problem was eas­
ily dealt with at a local level via their unofficial enrolment in the regiments. The names
o f such Janissary-pretenders, generally referred to in the sources as “taslakçis”, were not
listed in the payroll registers which were sent to the central Janissary administration. As a
result, they were not entitled to any salary, but enjoyed the same privileges as real Janis­
saries under the auspices o f their patron officers.
We should note at this point that, until the eighteenth century, pseudo-Janissaries
were not often mentioned in official Ottoman sources pertaining to the provinces. It is
only after the permanent establishment o f Janissary regiments in particular fortresses
and the subsequent minimisation o f control over the latter by the government and the
Janissary officers in Istanbul that the phenomenon o f taslakçis seems to have flourished
on the Ottoman periphery.19 In other words, the growing ‘claim o f being a Janissary’

18 For an Ottoman document from Hanya, in Crete, showcasing the difference in protection from
local authorities offered by the imperial Janissaries and the local corps to their members, see Y.
Spyropoulos, OOcopaviKrj ôioiKr/mj km Koivmvia oxr;v %poe%avaaxaxiKr\ SvxiKtj Kpnxrj: Ap/si-
oxéç Mapxvpieç (1817-1819) [Ottoman Administration and Society in Prerevolutionary West­
ern Crete (1817-1819): Archival Testimonies], ed. A. Papadaki, (Rethymno 2015), 273; BOA,
KK.d.827:52.
19 The earliest reference to taslakçis in areas outside Istanbul that I was able to locate at the
BOA pertains to the province of Bilecik and is dated 24 §evval 1111 (4/14/1700); BOA, C.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L IT IC S O N TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18t h -EA RLY 19th C .) 455

(yeniçerilik iddiasi) among the Empire’s provincial population should be treated mainly
as an eighteenth and early nineteenth-century phenomenon which expressed a ‘bottom-
up’ networking process, defined by off-the-record arrangements between outsiders who
wanted to enjoy the privileges offered by the corps and officers at a regiment level.
Yet, neither did the formation o f Janissary networks have the same intensity nor
did it follow the same trajectory and time-line in every Ottoman region. A number of
factors influenced the dynamics created between Janissaries and the Empire’s various
local populations. One factor was, for instance, the geopolitical importance o f each
area and if it was considered to be frontier territory (serhad) or not by the Ottoman
administration. In such areas the Janissary corps had stronger representation and was,
thus, more likely to develop broader connections with the local people.20 This does not
mean, though, that the inhabitants o f areas with no serhad status, but o f great financial
importance for the Ottoman market, such as Izmir, could not develop strong liaisons
with the corps, especially as the latter was increasingly becoming involved in the Em­
pire’s economic life.21
Other factors were the historical relation o f an area with the corps, its proximity to Is­
tanbul, and its administrative status. Owing to their location and the conditions prevalent
at the time o f their conquest, places like Edime, Bosnia, and Vidin had, for instance, es­

ZB.12/595. After the above-mentioned reforms, the references to Janissary-pretenders in Ot­

toman provinces become more dense. In particular, out of the 26 cases which refer to the pe­
riod before 1826 and contain explicit mentions to taslakçis, 21 pertain to the years from 1737
to 1823 and 19 to the period after 1756; BOA, [E.SKRT.6/557; BOA, IE.ÇKRT.5/382; BOA,
ÎE.EV.41/4666; BOA, IE.ÇKRT.7/598; BOA, C.ML. 185/7747; BOA, C.MF.113/5605; BOA,
C.ML. 147/6247; BOA, C.ADL.7/469; BOA, C.ML.212/8709; BOA, C.EV.457/23112; BOA,
C.ADL.46/2800; BOA, C.AS.1110/49123; BOA, C.ZB.90/4490; BOA, C.ML.285/11708;
BOA, C.AS.42/1949; BOA, C.ZB.39/1921; BOA, HAT.1388/55236; BOA, C.ZB.49/2438;
BOA, C.DH.64/3155; BOA, C.DH. 120/5978; BOA, C.ZB.2/78; BOA, HAT.651/31797 (25
Cemaziii’l-ahir 1229); BOA, HAT.651/31797 (11 Receb 1229); BOA, HAT.341/18505; BOA,
C.AS.769/32503. That is not to say that taslakçm were not existent outside Istanbul before the
eighteenth century. For a relevant reference, see Kavanin-i Yeniçeriyan, 82.
20 According to Mouradgea d’Ohsson, in the late eighteenth century 32 serhad agalari were in
charge of Janissary garrisons appointed to the most important fortresses of the Empire; Mou­
radgea d’Ohsson, Tableau général, 7:316. Yet, this number seems to have been subject to
changes through time, since it varies from one payroll register of the Janissary corps to another.
21 The French traveller Tancoigne, who visited Izmir at the beginning of the nineteenth century,
writes: “Ce mutésellim a sous ses ordres une soldatesque nombreuse et turbulente de Janis­
saires, qui ne demandent que pillage et désordre, et auxquels les incendies qui ravagent si
souvent cet entrepôt du commerce de l ’Anatolie, procurent de fréquentes occasions de s 'aban­
donner à leur penchant pour la rapine” ; J. M. Tancoigne, Voyage à Smyrne, dans l ’archipel et
l ’île de Candie (Paris 1817), 29-30. For the infamous Janissary rebellion of 1797 in Izmir and
its results, see Ministère des Affaires Etrangères (MAE), Correspondance Consulaire et Com­
merciale (CCC), Smyme, Vol. 31:98 ff; S. Laiou, ‘To pgpTiskiô vr\q Epnpvriç (1797)’ [The Re­
bellion of Izmir], in H urzopla vqç Mucpâç Aalaç: Odcopaviiaj Kvpiapyia [The History of Asia
Minor: Ottoman Rule], Vol. 4 (Athens 2011), 105-120; N. Olker, ‘1797 Olayi ve izmir’in Ya-
kilmasi’, Tarih incelemeleri Dergisi, 2 (1984), 117-159.
456 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

tablished from a very early point firm bonds with the Janissaries, who played a prominent
role in their economic and political life until - or in some cases even after.22 the abolition
o f the corps. It is interesting to note, at this point, that one o f the first detachments of parts
o f the Janissary provincial administration from the corps’ central organisation took place
in Sultan Suleyman’s time, following the conquest o f the areas that came to be known
as the ocak-i miimtaze, i.e., the regencies o f Algeria, Tunisia, and Tripolitania. It should
not come as a surprise that, although thousands o f imperial Janissaries were deployed in
these three areas, their military forces are nowhere to be found in the payroll registers
(,mevacib defterleri) preserved in the Ottoman archives o f Istanbul. That is because these
self-administered areas were given the right to recruit and finance their soldiers on their
own.23 Janissary forces resided permanently in the three regencies ever since their con­
quest and developed a very different type o f organisation and a distinct political trajectory
from their counterparts in other provinces.24 This was not only because o f the regencies’
distance from Istanbul and the autonomous status o f their administration, but also because
o f the religious and ethnic conditions prevalent in them, another important factor affect­
ing the relation o f Janissaries with the Empire’s provincial populations.
The corps seems to have had the tendency to gain stronger popular support in areas
with a history o f extended conversions to Islam after their Ottoman conquest, like the
Balkans, Anatolia, and Crete. On the other hand, in areas with large Arabic-speaking
communities, its members often distanced themselves from the latter, manned their units
mainly with non-local soldiers, and, in some cases, maintained an elite status which gen­
erally alienated them from the indigenous populations. In Damascus, for instance, the im­
perial regiments recruited people mainly from Anatolia, the Balkans, and from Kurdish
regions, while they were often in conflict with the Damascenes, who took political refuge
in the city’s local Janissary corps (yerliyya).2S Also, in Aleppo, the imperial Janissaries
“seemed to have been immune to large-scale penetration by the local people”, a large part
o f whom expressed their opposition to the corps’ political domination by becoming e$raf

22 Sel-Turhan, ‘Rebelling for the Old Order’, 300-315 and passim.

23 Unfortunately, apart from the fact that it had a military organisation similar to that of the other
two regencies, very little is known about the Janissary forces of Ottoman Tripolitania. For an
overview of the role of Janissaries in the regencies of Tunisia and Algeria, and relative bibli­
ography, see A. Moalla, The Regency o f Tunis and the Ottoman Porte, 1777-1814: Army and
Government o f a North-African Ottoman Eyâlet at the End o f the Eighteenth Century (London
and New York 2004), 87-107; T. Shuval, La ville d ’Alger vers lafin du XVIlIe siècle : Popula­
tion et cadre urbain (Paris 2002), 57-117 and passim.
24 For an analytical examination of the structure of the Janissary organisation in Algiers, see J.
Dény, ‘Les registres de solde des Janissaires conservés à la bibliothèque d’Alger’, Revue Afric­
aine, 61 (1920), 19-46, 212-260. Also, for two unpublished payroll registers of the same unit,
see Archives Nationales d’Outre-Mer d’Aix-en-Provence (ANOM), 15 MIOM, Vol. 118 and
the unclassified register entitled ‘Registre des Janissaires, Bibliothèque d’Alger’ preserved at
the Archives privées de Jean Deny (CETOBaC).
25 A. Rafeq, ‘The Local Forces in Syria in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries’, in V. J.
Parry and M. E. Yapp (eds), War, Technology and Society in the Middle East (London 1975),
277-280.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L IT IC S ON TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18t h -EA RLY 19th C.) 457

and creating alternative groups o f political power.26 Moreover, in the Maghreb regencies,
where the imperial Janissaries formed the main axis o f the administration, the corps’
intermingling with the local populace remained limited, while its soldiers were usually
recruited from Anatolia, the Balkans, and from regions around the Aegean.27 Yet, this
did not mean that in the above-mentioned areas Arabs were completely excluded from
the corps. In many cases the socio-political, and economic conditions led the Janissary
authorities to accept locals in their ranks. According to André Raymond, for instance,
in Cairo, “the recruitment o f ‘Arabs’ annoyed the authorities, but they did not have the
means to oppose it, since they were in need o f troops for the large sultanic expeditions”.28
In Aleppo, peasants and other strata o f the local people reportedly managed to enter the
corps,29 while in Algiers the development o f the institution o f kuloglis30 had become an
entrance-gate into the corps for various indigenous ethnic groups.31 Generally, though,
we can maintain that in Arab regions the penetration o f Janissary ranks by local people
never reached the levels seen in the Balkans, Anatolia, and Crete. In these last areas, the
imperial regiments often absorbed large parts o f the local Muslim communities into their
networks, to the extent that in the eyes o f outside observers the corps was often identified
with local Islam.
The above phenomena ineluctably give rise to a series o f questions: can the prefer­
ence o f the Janissaries to integrate into their networks populations with a recent past
o f conversion be linked back to the old practice o f the d evfrm e? Was it related to the
fact that an en masse recruitment o f Islamic populations in predominantly Muslim ar­

26 Ibid., 280-281. According to Bruce Masters, “although the Janissaries were well integrated into
Aleppo’s society by the eighteenth century, with native-born sons and grandsons succeeding
the original migrants into the Janissary ranks, those in the city whose ancestral pedigrees were
much older could still disdain them collectively as 'ousiders’”; B. Masters, ‘Aleppo’s Janissa­
ries: Crime Syndicate or Vox Populil ’, in E. Gara, M. E. Kabadayi, and Ch. K. Neumann (eds),
Popular Protest and Political Participation in the Ottoman Empire: Studies in Honor ofSurai-
ya Faroqhi (Istanbul 2011), 161.
27 For the recruitment of soldiers into the Tunisian and Algerian Janissary garrisons, see T. Ba-
chrouch, ‘Les élites tunisiennes du pouvoir et de la dévotion : Contribution à l’étude des
groupes sociaux dominants (1782-1881)’, unpublished Ph.D dissertation, Université de Pa­
ris-Sorbonne, 1981, 509-511; M. Colombe, ‘Contribution à l’étude du recruitment de l’Odjak
d’Alger dans les dernières années de l’histoire de la régence’, Revue Africaine, 87 (1943), 166-
183. Also, see, MAE, CCC, Alger, Vol 43 (31 March 1817; 30 June 1817; 30 September 1817).
28 Raymond, Le Caire des Janissaires, 13. For the enrolment in the Egyptian Janissary corps of
members of the Havâre tribe, see S. Shaw, The Financial and Administrative Organization and
Development o f Ottoman Egypt, 1517-1798 (Princeton 1962), 190-191.
29 H. L. Bodman, Political Factions in Aleppo, 1760-1826 (Chapel Hill 1963), 63.
30 According to the Kavanin-i Yeniçeriyân, in the sixteenth century, the kuloglis were the sons of
Janissaries, who had the right to be admitted to the corps, alongside the devfrme recruits; Ka-
vanin-i Yeniçeriyân, 24, 26, 33-35 and passim. Yet, in later periods, both the criteria for their
admittance and their institutional role seem to have varied in different regions; E. Radushev,
‘“Peasant” Janissaries 2 ’, Journal o f Social History, 42 (2008), 459; TAH.3:417; TAH.19:173,
178-179, 327.
31 Shuval, La ville d 'AIger, 107-117.
458 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

eas could fundamentally disrupt the administrative and financial order imposed by the
‘askerî-reaycC nexus? To what extent did the inequalities created by the Veayaization’ of
non-Muslims in certain areas on account o f the rapid expansion o f Janissary networks
contribute to the rise o f national and religious conflicts? For the time being, the existing
research does not suffice to answer comprehensively any o f the above questions. As long
as we insist on keeping our main focus on Istanbul when examining the Janissary institu­
tion, it will continue to be very difficult to understand the implications brought about by
its decentralisation. We are, thus, in need o f more case studies which will reveal how the
corps functioned in different regions. In this vein, the pages which follow will examine in
detail the political effects o f these processes as witnessed in the eyalet o f Crete.

II. T h e J a n is s a r ie s o f C r e t e a s P o l it ic a l A c t o r s

The history o f the Janissaries o f Crete starts with the island’s Ottoman invasion in 1645.
The siege o f its biggest fortress, the city o f Kandiye, lasted for 24 years and cost the lives
o f tens o f thousands o f soldiers, while the fortified islets o f Souda and Spinalonga, the
last Venetian strongholds in the area, passed to Ottoman hands only in 1715. The many
military difficulties that the Ottomans encountered during the War for Crete made them re­
alise that the local population’s support was crucial for defeating the Venetian army. This
realisation resulted in an extended campaign for the recruitment of Cretan soldiers into the
army, which began in the earliest phase o f the war. They organised 13 different types o f
local corps which were installed in all o f the island’s fortresses, drawing their manpower
mainly from local people. It was during that time that the first massive conversions of
Cretans started taking place and soon a sizeable local Muslim community was created.
Although the imperial Janissaries, the main driving force behind the conquest of
Crete, enjoyed an elevated status compared to the soldiers o f these local corps, during
that first phase the island’s population was still quite reluctant to join their forces. De­
spite the much discussed process o f the corps’ infiltration by ‘aliens’ and guild members
which was taking place in Istanbul, the Janissaries who invaded Crete consisted mainly
o f professional soldiers who travelled from far away in order to fight, only to depart for
other posts a few years later.32 This constant military migration, o f course, meant that it
was very difficult for them to get involved in the island’s financial and political life.33
The conquest o f the city o f Kandiye signalled the beginning o f a new era for the is­
land. Despite the on-going war with Venice, this great victory consolidated the Ottoman
presence in the area and gave rise to a gradual shift from a war-driven administration
towards a more sustainable financial and political system o f governance for the province.

32 For the composition of the forces sent to Crete during the war, see E. Giilsoy, Girit ’in Fethi ve
Osmanh Idaresinin Kurulmasi (1645-1670) (Istanbul 2004), 187-198.
33 The fact that after the conquest of Kandiye only 28 imperial soldiers were registered as house­
owners in the city, although in 1663-1664 4,636 imperial Janissaries were deployed in its
siege, is indicative of this reality; Ibid., 252; Yilmaz, ‘Economic and Social Role of Janissar­
ies’, 251-267.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L IT IC S ON T H E O TTO M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA RLY 19th C .) 459

This shift would only be completed after the signing o f the Treaty o f Passarowitz in 1718
which officially put an end to the Ottoman-Venetian struggle. One o f the most important
consequences o f the end o f the War for Crete was the progressive withdrawal o f most of
the Empire’s imperial troops from the region, which would eventually leave, by the late
1750s, only a limited, but not insignificant, number o f Janissaries in the province’s three
cities, Kandiye, Hanya, and Resmo (mod. Herakleio, Chania, and Rethymno). Another
important development brought about by the new conditions was the belated implemen­
tation o f the malikâne system in 1720. Both the departure o f thousands o f soldiers of
non-Cretan origin and the newly imposed method o f tax-farming played a pivotal role in
the passing o f the biggest part o f the province’s administration into the hands o f the local
population. Additionally, as was the case in all Ottoman provinces, the regular periodi­
cal rotation o f Janissary regiments gradually stopped. The result was that, starting in the
1730s and before the end o f the 1750s, a specific group o f imperial regiments had their
presence in the area consolidated. This process set off a rapid localisation o f the Janissar­
ies’ manpower and financial resources and brought about profound changes in the local
political scene.

1730-1770: Localisation and popularisation

Before their localisation, the imperial Janissary regiments’ involvement in the actual po­
litical life o f Crete was very limited. That is not to say that their soldiers did not carry
with them on the island their long tradition o f violent revolts and mobilisations, one o f
which erupted even in the earliest phase o f the War for Crete, in 1649, owing to a leave-
refusal to some o f the soldiers who had been fighting in the trenches of Kandiye for two
years.34 In 1688, another mutiny o f imperial Janissaries, which cost the life o f the is­
land’s governor and o f various military officers, broke out in the same city. Although the
exact details o f this incident are unknown, according to Silahdar, the reason was “grain
provisions”.35 Despite these violent mobilisations, in early Ottoman Crete, revolts o f the
local corps seem to have been more frequent than those instigated by imperial troops,36
who remained largely detached from local political developments.
It is only in the 1730s that the sources testify to a more active involvement of the
imperial Janissaries in the political life o f Crete. In 1731, a Janissary revolt broke out
in Kandiye because o f an accusation o f theft made by a local Muslim notable against
a Janissary. In a display o f arrogance, the local governor not only decided to ignore the

34 R. Murphey, Ottoman Warfare, 1500-1700 (London 1999), 28; Giilsoy, Girit’in Fethi, 189-
190.
35 M. Sariyannis, ‘Rebellious Janissaries: Two Military Mutinies in Candia (1688, 1762) and the­
ir Aftermaths’, in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), The Eastern Mediterranean under Ottoman Rule:
Crete, 1645-1840. Halcyon Days in Crete VI: A Symposium Held in Rethymno, 13-15 January
2006 (Rethymno 2008), 268-272.
36 The local soldiers of Kandiye had caused three uprisings from 1692 to 1746, all of which
because of their corps’ internal administrative and financial issues TAH.7:19; TAH.15:300;
TAH. 16:44, 167; BOA, C.AS.1218/54668.
460 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

accused Janissary’s special jurisdictional status and to incarcerate him, but he also sent
away the agha o f the imperial Janissaries when he tried to intervene. As soon as the rest
o f the Janissaries were informed o f this insolence committed against their fellow-soldier
and their leading officer by the pasha, they marched to the latter’s residence and, after
threatening him, seized the Muslim notable by force and cut him to pieces in the middle
o f the street.37 In September 1733, another revolt took place, this time against the pasha
o f Hanya,38 due to a long delay in the payment of Janissaries.39 Around that time, a group
o f soldiers attacked the French Vice-Consul o f Kandiye and some French sailors, who
had been previously mistreated by a group o f local Christians as well. The tension cre­
ated between the French community and the Janissaries in Kandiye was quickly trans­
posed to Hanya, where the recent uprising against the pasha converged with the agitation
o f the local population against the French and turned into a large-scale sedition. In the
months which followed, multiple violent incidents contributed to the prolongation of
social unrest in the city and led to a climax in the summer o f 1734. In August, Christians
and Muslims, joined by a group of Janissaries and led by Christian captains, attacked
the house o f the French consul in Hanya. As the pasha remained inert and incapable of
intervening for fear o f a new revolt against him, the only response to the crisis came from
the agha o f the corps, who sent a regiment o f Janissaries in order to save the French from
the hands o f the mob.40
These incidents are very revealing with regard to the gradual transformation that the
Janissary corps underwent in Crete. The 1731 revolt points to the fact that the Janissar­
ies continued to behave primarily as a professional corporate group whose focus was
on issues pertaining to their military status, such as their salaries and privileges. Yet, as
demonstrated by the incidents o f 1733-1734, some o f their mobilisations had now started
also to project non-military claims made by parts o f Cretan society, such as those related
to the financial rivalry o f local Christians and Muslims with French merchants, whose
commercial activity on the island was expanding dramatically in the 1720s and 1730s.
The French consuls o f Crete observe with concern this gradual amalgamation o f the in­
terests o f Janissary groups with those o f local society,41 and note that there was a radical
increase in the number o f “dangerous” people on the island in recent years.42 Yet, most of

37 ANF, AE, B 1, La Canée, Vol. 4 (the document has two different dates: 20 February 1731 and 3
August 1731).
38 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 4(15 October 1733).
39 This problem would still remain unresolved by the end of 1735; ANF, AE, B 1, La Canée, Vol.
5 (27 December 1735).
40 ANF, AE,B1, La Canée, Vol. 4 (25 November 1733; 1 December 1733; 18 December 1733; 31
December 1733; 2 January 1734; 2 January 1734; 9 January 1734; 35 January 1734; 28 Janu­
ary 1734; 1 March 1734; 4 April 1734 1734; 11 August 1734; 13 August 1734; 22 September
1734; 25 December 1734); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 5 (1 January 1735; 31 January 1735).
41 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 5 (29 November 1735); “ les gens du pays qui sontfort mal inten­
tionnés venant à se joindre à quelques Janissaires, dont il ya icy un très grand nombre aussy
mal disciplinés” .
42 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 5 (27 December 1735).
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON T H E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y ( 18 '"-E A R L Y 19™ C.) 461

the thousands o f Janissaries deployed on the island43 seem to have stayed separate from
this alignment o f interests when no purely military claims were involved. Thus it should
not come as a surprise that it was the Janissaries again who were called upon to intervene
and protect those threatened by their own comrades-in-arms.
Another very interesting issue is the transmission o f tensions from one city to another
and its relation with the political developments in the Ottoman capital. In December
1733, the French Consul o f Hanya noted that “the bad example o f the incident that took
place in Kandiye against Mr Baume44 has embroiled the Janissaries of this place [Hanya]
in a movement that we could call a sedition”.45 He also writes in one o f his reports that
“security and tranquillity are nowhere to be found in this city, after the soldiers have lost
the respect due for their commanders, who are terrified o f chastising the wrongdoers in
fear o f a general uprising”,46 specifying, in another letter, that it is “since the revolution
o f Istanbul and the revolt that took place in Kandiye, that the soldiers and their support­
ers have lost their respect and obedience, to the extent that they are afraid o f neither their
commanders nor their peers”.47
It is worth underlining the connection that the Consul sees not only between the re­
gional revolts o f Kandiye and Hanya, but also between the mobilisations o f the Janissar­
ies o f Crete and the 1730 Patrona Halil incident in Istanbul. Despite its decentralisation,
the Janissary corps always remained an institution empowered by its status as an agent
o f Istanbul. Its centrally-based organisation was a constant frame o f reference for its
soldiers, even if they had never set foot in the Empire’s capital. Crete is a great example
o f the umbilical-cord-like liaisons which joined the corps’ peripheral organisation to its
headquarters. Yet, this connection should not be interpreted as proof o f a strict control ex­
ercised by the latter over the former. It rather points to the existence of a common source
o f legitimacy and o f a sense o f camaraderie and networking that ran through the entire
Janissary establishment, even when plain soldiers refused to obey their Janissary officers
in Istanbul or elsewhere. It is, after all, no coincidence that the Patrona Halil rebellion
was not the result o f a top-to-bottom instigation within the corps, and nor were the 1733-
1734 revolts in Crete. In other words, a strong ideological connection with Istanbul could
exist side by side with the soldiers’ unwillingness to obey their high-ranking officers in
the capital.
In the years which followed, the Janissaries started increasingly to get involved col­
lectively and in large numbers in local politics. Their mobilisations in the early 1730s on

43 In 1741, the number of imperial Janissaries in Kandiye was 3,166: 1.182 in Resmo, and 1,801
in Hanya; BOA, MAD.d.6568:363-384, 389-403, 663-695.
44 Baume was the Vice-Consul of France in Crete. In 1733 he was beaten mercilessly by a group
of Janissaries in the middle of the market of Kandiye; ANF, AE, B 1, La Canée, Vol. 4 (25 No­
vember 1733).
45 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 4 (18 December 1733). For another similar comment on the easi­
ness with which Janissary uprisings were transmitted from one city to the other, see ANF, AE,
Bl, La Canée, Vol. 6 (23 January 1739).
46 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 4 (1 December 1733).
47 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 4 (9 January 1734).
462 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

the side o f Cretan Christians and Muslims seem to have quickly made them appear, in
the eyes o f the local people, as their protectors from the encroachments o f other local au­
thorities. In August 1737, 500-600 Christian subjects (grecs rayas) from various villages
o f the countryside o f Hanya gathered outside the gates o f the city and demanded to see
the pasha, declaring that they would stop paying the excessive amounts o f irregular taxes
imposed on them by the latter. While doing so, they asked for the protection o f the Janis­
saries. The corps immediately sided with them and chose to disregard the direct orders
o f the pasha not to let the Christians inside the city walls and to treat them as rebels. In­
stead, the agha o f the Janissaries called for a plenary session o f the corps’ members with
the participation o f Janissary elders, the kadi, the miifti, and the city notables. The body
collectively decided to send a petition (arz) to the Porte exposing the misconducts o f the
pasha, and sent, for this purpose, several delegations to Istanbul consisting o f Janissary
officers and representatives o f the Christian reayas,48 This is the first instance in which
the sources explicitly represent the Janissaries as a body which utilised collective pro­
cedures in order to decide unanimously on political issues with direct reference to local
society. Such initiatives would only increase in subsequent decades.
According to the Ottoman registers, in the 1740s and 1750s, the number o f Janissaries
in Crete decreased by 40%, bringing the gradual retirement o f imperial forces from the
island to an end. The number o f regiments in the cities was reduced to five in Kandiye,
one in Resmo, and two in Hanya (in later years this would rise to five), diminishing
their manpower from a total o f 6,149 soldiers in 1741 to 3,682 men in 1758.49 Apart
from temporary punitive transfers and minor changes, the regiments on the island in the
late 1750s remained in place until 1826. Despite the overall reduction in the number of
imperial Janissaries in the province, in the subsequent decades the regiments would man­
age to become the dominant power in local politics. The explanation o f this seemingly
paradoxical phenomenon lies beyond the Janissaries’ diminishing official numbers, in
the emergence o f a group o f ‘soldiers’ who cannot be traced in the corps’ payrolls, the
taslakçis.
The existence o f this group o f Janissary-pretenders is easier to observe in non-official
sources. In his 1818 description o f the military organisation o f Crete, Zacharias Praktiki-
dis provides a quite accurate report on the manpower o f the various local military corps
o f Kandiye, but, when he tries to calculate the number o f imperial Janissaries deployed in
the same city, the discrepancy between the numbers given in his account and those in the
Janissary payrolls is striking: although the officially registered imperial Janissaries num­
bered 1,692,50 Praktikidis’ estimation rises to 25,000 men.51 Similar inflated numbers are

48 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 5 (27 August 1737); (12 December 1737).
49 Cf. BOA, MAD.d.6568:363-384,389-403,663-695 with BOA, MAD.d.6950:635-652,657-668,
967-989; BOA, MAD.d.7015:529-546, 549-560, 583-603 and BOA, MAD.d.5866:1055-1084,
1087-1104, 1107-1120; BOA, MAD.d.5552:581-598, 601-614, 841-870.
50 BOA, MAD.d.l7575:71.
51 Z. Praktikidis, Xcopoypacpîa zpç Kpfizpç, avvzaydsiaa zco 1818 vrn Zayapiov IlpaKwdôoü,
napacnâzov izXrjpeÇcmolov k m yeviKOv cppovziozov zr/ç ôiKMOüvvpç zco 1822-1829 sv Kpr/zr] [To-
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON T H E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA R LY 19™ C.) 463

to be found in most traveller accounts from the mid eighteenth century onwards but not
in earlier periods.*52 It is, after all, around that time that the corps starts to become increas­
ingly identified by outsiders with local Islam. In the mid 1740s, Pococke writes that “all
the Turks” in Kandiye “belong to some military body”.53 In a similar fashion, Savary
notes in 1779 that “all the male children o f the Turks become members o f the corps of
Janissaries at their birth”.54 De Bonneval and Dumas write in 1783 that “the despotic and
military administration brings no harm to the Turks, who can bear arms, as they all be­
long to a military corps”.55 In 1794, Olivier claims that the Muslims o f Crete are “almost
all enrolled among the Janissaries”.56 Tancoigne writes in 1812, that “almost all the Turks
o f the island o f Crete are Janissaries”,57 while, Sieber mentions in 1817 that “every young
Turk, upon his birth or after his circumcision, which he undergoes in a festive manner
when he becomes ten or twelve years old, is enrolled in one o f the Janissary regiments”.58
In the official Ottoman sources, the first reference to Janissary-pretenders that we
come across is from an imperial edict o f 1762 which was sent after a Janissary rebel­
lion in Kandiye. In his edict the Sultan forbids “the acceptance in the various regiments
o f taslakçis, people without pay-certificates”,59 as a measure to restrain the seditious
tendencies o f the local population. The extremely violent uprising o f 1762, which cost
the lives o f the Janissaries’ ba§çavu§ and kâtib, and resulted to the deposition o f their
agha, seems to have acted as a wake-up call for Istanbul concerning the issue o f popular
support for Janissary mobilisations.60 Yet, the problem that the above-mentioned ferman

pography of Crete, compiled in 1818 by Zacharias Praktikidis, Deputy Attendant and General
Commissary of Justice in Crete, during the Years 1822-1829] (Herakleio 1983),43.
52 Cf., for instance, the numbers given for the city of Kandiye by De Bonneval and Dumas in
1783 with those mentioned by Toumefort in 1700; De Bonneval-Dumas, Avayvwpiarj, 190; J.
P. de Toumefort, Relation d ’un voyage du Levant, fait par ordre du roi..., Vol. 1 (Amsterdam
1718), 16.
53 R. Pococke, ‘A Description of the East’, in J. Pinkerton (ed.), A General Collection o f the Best
and Most Interesting Voyages and Travels in All Parts o f the World, Vol. 10 (London 1811),
611-612.
54 C. E. Savary, Letters on Greece: Being a Sequel to Letters on Egypt... (Dublin 1788), 374.
55 P. De Bonneval and M. Dumas, Avayvcbpioq zqç vr/aoo Kpqrqç: pia px>oriKr\ ÉK0earj rov 1783
[Survey of the island of Crete: a secret report of 1783], trans. G. B. Nikolaou and M. G. Pepon-
akis (Rethymno 2000), 213.
56 G. A. Olivier, Travels in the Ottoman Empire, Egypt, and Persia, Undertaken by Order o f the
Government o f France, during the First Six Years o f the Republic, Vol. 2 (London 1801), 243-
244.
57 Tancoigne, Voyage à Smyrne, 1:102.
58 F. W. Sieber, Reise nach der lnsel Kreta im griechischen Archipelagus im Jahre 1817, Vol. 2
(Leipzig 1823), 186.
59 “bilâ esami olan taslakçi makulesini gayri ortalara bir vechle kabul etmemek”; TAH.3:361-
363.
60 On this incident, see TAH.3:345-350, 361-363, 365-366; TAIL9:365-366; BOA,
C.ML. 165/6920; ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 11 (27 June 1762; 15 September 1762);
Sariyannis, ‘Rebellious Janissaries’, 255-274; E. Karantzikou and P. Photeinou, IepobiKeio
Hpaiclelov. Tpkoç KcbSucaç (1669/1673-1750/1767) [Kadi court of Heraklion. Third codex
464 YAN N IS SPY R O PO U L O S

tried to address was nothing new. It was, in fact, the product o f a tendency that had made
its appearance as early as three decades before the incident. In the period from 1730 to
1760, Ottoman and French sources make reference to 16 revolts in the island’s three
cities, and in 12 o f these cases, the involvement o f imperial Janissaries is explicitly men­
tioned.61 O f these revolts, three took place because o f delays in the corps’ payments,62
while the rest were pertinent to non-military financial and political issues, touching on
greater problems o f the local population, who actively participated in the mobilisations.
One significant development o f the decades following 1731 was the growing intoler­
ance o f the Janissaries towards the political authority o f centrally appointed governors. It
would not be an exaggeration to say that, a few exceptions notwithstanding, from 1731 to
1812 the political leverage o f the pashas/governors in Crete becomes largely neutralised
by the growing power o f the Janissary regiments, which became gradually, in the words
o f an Austrian observer, “absolute masters, recognising only formally the authority of
the pasha who is sent by Istanbul”.63 More specifically, in the above-mentioned period,
the sources testify to the eruption o f 18 revolts against governors, ten o f which resulted
in their deposition and one even in the murder o f one o f them.64 In view o f these events

(1669/1673-1750/1767)], ed. E. A. Zachariadou (Heraklion 2003), 416-417, 426-427, 429; N.

S. Stavrinidis, Msxacppâoeiç xovpKiKcbv lozopiKcbv eyypâfcov a<popmvxa>v siç zr/v imopiav tr/ç
Kprytr\ç [Translations of Turkish historical documents relating to the history of Crete] (Herak­
lion 1985), Vol. 5, 193-194, 196-200, 207-210.
61 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 4 (20 February 1731 ; 28 July 1731; 29 August 1731; 150ctober
1733; 13 August 1734); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 5 (27 August 1737; 12 December 1737);
ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 6 (23 January 1739; 6 February 1739); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée,
Vol. 9 (20 January 1749; 8 March 1749; 30 December 1749; 4 September 1751; 29 January
1753); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 10 (4 March 1755; 8 April 1755; 12 September 1755;
6 November 1756); Archives Diplomatiques de Nantes (ADN), Constantinople, Correspon­
dance avec les Echelles (Série D), Candie, Vol. 1 (15 March 1756; 22 October 1756); ANF,
AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol 11 (3 December 1760); BOA, C.AS.1218/54668; TAH.l8:264-265; M.
Sariyannis, ”Evaç exspôSoÇoç ponoou/.pâvoç o-rpv Kppxp tou 18oo ctuava [A heterodox Mus­
lim in 18th century Crete]’, in K. Lappas, A. Anastasopoulos, and E. Kolovos (eds), Mvriprj
nr/vsÀÔTutjç Exâdrj. MeXéteç icnopiaç km çdoXoyiaç [In memory of Penelope Stathi. Studies in
history and philology] (Herakleion 2010), 371-385.
62 ANF, AE, B1, La Canée, Vol. 4 (20 February 1731); ANF, AE, B1, La Canée, Vol. 6 (23 Janu­
ary 1739; 6 February 1739); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 9 (4 September 1751).
63 “Die neun Regimenter sind unumschrànkte Herren und nehmen den Bascha, der von Konstan-
tinopel gesendet wird, nur der Form wegen auf”\ Sieber, Reise nach der Insel Kreta, 2:183.
Sieber refers to nine out of the 11 regiments based on the island in 1817, owing to a temporary
exile of two of them when he was travelling in Crete.
64 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 4 (15 October 1733); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 5 (27 August
1737); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 6 (6 February 1739); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 9 (4
September 1751); ANF, AE, B1, La Canée, Vol. 9 (29 January 1753); ANF, AE, B1, La Canée,
Vol. 10 (4 March 1755; 8 April 1755; 12 September 1755); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 13(3
November 1772; 22 May 1773); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 14 (16 May 1775; 3 June 1775;
8 December 1776); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 15 (22 January 1777; 20 April 1777); ANF,
AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 16 (31 December 1779; 6 February 1780; 23 April 1780); ANF, AE,
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON T H E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EARLY 19™ C .) 465

it comes as no surprise that De Bonneval and Dumas reported in 1783 that the Janissary
officers “compete with the authority o f the pashas owing to their popularity [...] they
are always ready to foster a revolt and evoke terror in the pasha, who is afraid that he
is going to become their first victim [...] the authority of the pashas o f two horsetails is
even more limited”, while the local Muslims “believe they are free when they can mas­
sacre without consequences those who govern them”.65 According to the French consular
reports, the “republican and rebel”66 Muslims o f Crete had created such a bad reputation
for themselves67 that certain pashas were even bribing the Sublime Porte in order to avoid
an unfavourable transfer to the island.68
Istanbul often responded to the Janissary-inflicted violence against its chosen gov­
ernors by the appointment o f military officials, such as Janissary aghas and other high-
ranking Janissary officers from the capital or other places outside Crete, with orders to
punish those responsible for the rebellions. Yet, although such agents often succeeded in
chastising groups o f rebellious Janissaries and even managed to exile some o f the regi­
ments for a few years, insurrections against them were also becoming commonplace.69
This persistent reaction against centrally selected corps officers led, from the second
half o f the eighteenth century onwards, to the very frequent appointment o f Janissary
aghas from among the members o f the regiments o f Crete.70 It is during that period that
the Janissary administration o f the island takes on its most decentralised form, allow­
ing a series o f local families to acquire an almost hereditary monopoly over its highest
echelons.
The examples o f Cretan families who came to power through this decentralisation
process are plentiful. Their power was mainly grounded in a combination o f financial and
political activities which brought people from the Cretan countryside and urban centres
together under the auspices o f Janissary networks. The Karakaç household, for instance,

Bl, LaCanée, Vol. 17 (14 July 1783; 30 September 1783); MAE, CCC, LaCanée, Vol. 21:81-
83; V. Raulin, Description physique de l ’île de Crète, Vol. 1 (Paris 1867), 292; V. Psilakis,
laxopia rr\q Kpqxqç a m xqç aTxmxâxqç àpxaiôxqxoçpéxpi xcov Kad’qpâçxpàvmv [The history of
Crete from the remotest antiquity to our time], Vol. 3 (Chania 1909), 86.
65 De Bonneval and Dumas, Avayvcbpioq, 213-214, 217. On this issue, see also J. Bowring, Re­
port on Egypt and Candia. Addressed to the Right Hon. Lord Viscount Palmerston, her Maj­
esty’s Principal Secretary o f State for Foreign Affairs, &c. &c. &c. (London 1840), 154.
66 “On dit hautement icy que le consul de France a si souvent dépeint les candiottes comme des
républiquains et des rebelles qu ’il est enfin parvenu à attirer sur eux la colère du souverain. Je
n ’ay garde de les désabuser de cette opinion, je souhaitte au contraire qu ’ils y persistent, elle
ne peut que contenir ces insulaires dans le devoir et à assurer notre repos”, ANF, AE, Bl, La
Canée, Vol. 11 (15 September 1762).
67 ANF, AE, Bl, LaCanée, Vol. 13 (12 April 1771).
68 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 14 (8 December 1776).
69 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 6 (23 January 1739); ADN, Constantinople, Série D, Candie,
Vol. 1 (5 February 1769); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 12 (2 March 1770); ANF, AE, Bl, La
Canée, Vol. 13 (18 September 1771; 28 September 1771); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 14 (5
February 1776); Sariyannis, ‘Rebellious Janissaries’, 255-274.
70 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 17 (12 September 1784).
466 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

four members o f which had risen to the rank o f the Janissary agha o f Kandiye, was made
up o f administrators o f various vakifs and malikâne aghas o f the oil-producing areas of
Neapoli and Merambelo in Eastern Crete. Being primarily based in Kandiye, its members
opened a soap industry and invested a great amount o f capital in shipping, thus creating
a vertical line o f production and trade in oil and soap which extended from the Cretan
countryside to places such as Istanbul, Izmir, Alexandria, and Marseilles.71 The Janissary
networks’ support was more than crucial for this development. On the one hand, they
ensured the issuing by regiment vakifi o f loans for such businesses and contributed to
wiping out financial competitors either through tariffs and other measures imposed by
the council o f the aga kapusi or through Janissary-instigated violent mobilisations.72 On
the other hand, they provided protection from the encroachments o f centrally appointed
officials through the use o f their status o f administrative and judicial autonomy and/or by
means o f intimidation.73
A lot o f the financial competition that the Janissary networks were trying to eliminate
was coming from local Christian merchants. The Janissary networks’ opening to local
society had led to an increase in number o f Cretan converts who joined Islam with an
eye to entering the corps. At the same time, though, as one’s Muslim identity was in­
creasingly becoming identified with his participation in a group bearing administrative-
cww-military authority, the de facto exclusion o f local Christians from this privileged
status put the latter in an inferior position. It thus contributed to the creation o f a strik­
ing divergence in the interests o f the two religious groups. Although this separation of
interests was also connected with other reasons, such as the one-sided application of

71 For references to various members of the Karakaç family and their activities, see TAH.3:282;
TAH.9:283-285; TAH.17:125; TAH.25:43-45, 208; TAH.31:104; TAH.33:27-28; TAH.39:56-
58, 187-188; TAH.40:26-27, 91, 145; TAH.41:17, 68-69, 76-77, 134-135, 137-140; TAH.42:7-
8, 10-19, 23-25, 30-31, 50, 55-57, 157-158; BOA, C.ADL.92/5520; BOA, MAD.d.l7505:51;
BOA, HAT.339/19376; BOA, HAT.339/19401; BOA, HAT.720/34322; BOA, HAT.500/24476;
BOA, HAT.340/19444; BOA, HAT.340/19444 C; Psilakis, laxopia zrjç Kpr/zijç, 3:242, 627-
629; N. S. Stavrinidis, O Kazzezâv MvxaXr\ç Kopmcaç k m oi mpnoXspiazéç zod [Kapetan Mi-
chalis Korakas and his comrades-in-arms], Vol. 1 (Heraklion 1971), 64-66; K. Kritovoulidis,
Anopvr\povebpaza zod nepi aozovogiaç zijç EXXâSoç noXépoo zcov Kprjzcbv [Memoirs of the
war of the Cretans for the autonomy of Greece] (Athens 1859), 377-382; E. Aggelakis, «O
yEviToapiopôç ev Emsia» [The Janissaries in Siteia], Kprjzixai MeXézai, 1 (1933), 188; M. Dia-
lynas, ’O AovrapaA.ijç’ [Dontaralis], Apr/poç, 3 (1940), 874.
72 Such revolts were responsible for the abandonment, on several occasions, of Kandiye by
French commercial houses; Olivier, Travels in the Ottoman Empire, 2:248-249. For the an­
nulment of the plan for the creation of sustainable French soap industries on the island be­
cause of the competition with the local networks, see ANF, AE, B1, La Canée, Vol. 11 (2 May
1761). For a characteristic example of a Janissary mobilisation used to wipe out non-Janissary
financial competition, see BOA, FIAT.511/25076; TAH.42:153-154; TAH.43:156; Th. Detora-
kis, Tscopyioo NiKotexmcri, xpoviKd crppewBM'U'ra’ [Georgios Nikoletakis, notes about vari­
ous events], Kpr\zoXoyia, 5 (1977), 136-137; Sieber, Reise nach der Insel Kreta, 1:492-494;
Stavrinidis, O Kaizszâv Mi%àXr\ç Kopmcaç, 1:17-19.
73 MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 21:81 -83; Bowring, Report on Egypt and Candia, 154.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA RLY 19™ C.) 467

the malikâne system by Istanbul on the island, which excluded Christians from getting
involved in tax collection,74 the expansion o f the Janissary networks was beyond a doubt
one o f the most important factors that led to it. As a result, although in the 1730s the
Christians repeatedly counted on the Janissaries for the projection of their claims to the
Ottoman administration, this practice is nowhere to be found from the 1740s onwards.
The terms ‘non-M uslim’ and ‘reaya ’ become one and the same in both Ottoman and
Western sources, the same way that all Cretan Muslims become identified as Janissaries
in traveller accounts. Yet, despite the increasing political alienation created between the
island’s two major religious groups, this separation o f interests did not lead to a direct
clash between them until thç 1770s.

1770-1812: Masters o f the island

The years between 1770 and 1812 represent the apex o f the political-cw/w-financial domi­
nation o f the Janissary networks on Crete, a phenomenon created by the convergence of
the above on-going processes with a series o f incidents and developments at an imperial
and a local level. Maybe the most important o f these developments was the 1770 upris­
ing, which came to be known in Greek historiography as the ‘Daskalogiannis’ Revolu­
tion’ (Eîiavdaiaari xou ÀaoKaXoyidwri), a by-product o f the Russian-instigated Orlov
Revolt in the Peloponnese, which took place within the framework o f the Russo-Ottoman
war o f 1768-1774.
When the exclusively Christian population o f the mountainous nahiye o f Sphakia
in south-western Crete revolted against the Ottoman regime, the Janissaries, along with
other local military forces and reinforcements from outside Crete, were called upon to
suppress the rebellion through an expedition that cost thousands o f lives in both camps.
Although the revolt was mostly confined to the Sphakia area and the vast majority of lo­
cal Christians did not side with the rebels, its consequences for the relations between the
two major religious groups were grave. As the M uslims o f the Cretan countryside started
fleeing to the urban centres and the number o f casualties grew, tension built up and a
series o f revolts and violent mobilisations against the Christian inhabitants o f the three
cities broke out.75 From that point on, the sources testify to an increased polarisation in

74 For the implementation of the malikâne system on Crete, see TAH.l 5:308-311; A. N. Adiye-
ke, ‘Farming Out of Mukataas as Malikâne in Crete in the Eighteenth Century: The Rethymno
Case’, in Anastasopoulos (ed.), The Eastern Mediterranean under Ottoman Rule, 233-242.
75 TAH.31:47,49, 50, 56, 57, 69-70, 72-73, 74, 78-79, 93, 114; ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 12
(29 March 1770 and ff.); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 13'.passim; ADN, Constantinople, Sé­
rie D, Candie, Vol. 1 (8 January 1771); Olivier, Travels in the Ottoman Empire, 2:211-213;
V. Laourdas, ‘H STtavctaxacnç xcov Scpaiaavcov kcu o AaaKaXoyuxvvTiç Kaxct xa syypaipa xou
ToupKiKou Apxstou HpaKlgiou’ [The revolution of the Sphakiots and Daskalogiannis accord­
ing to the documents of the Turkish Archive of Herakleion] Kpr\ziK& Xpovixâ, 1 (1947), 275-
290; G. Papadopetrakis, Iozopla zmv Ztpmdmv [History of Sphakia] (Athens 1888), 123-176;
Psilakis, Iazopia zr\ç Kprjzrjç, 3:123.
468 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

the relations between the two religious groups,76 which would culminate with the 1821
Greek War o f Independence.
During the insurrection o f the Sphakiots, Janissary rebellions acquired, for the first
time, a strong religious justification and symbolism,77 which was nowhere to be found in
the sources before 1770. This religious tension made, without a doubt, the everyday life
o f the local Christians, who did not have the right to bear arms, more difficult. Yet, the
violence of this period was a very complex phenomenon that cannot be examined only
through a religion-based approach.78 In fact, the period between 1770 and 1812 marks
a general increase o f violent incidents o f both an inter and intra-communal nature. The
combination o f conversion to Islam with the expansion o f Janissary networks, gave rise
to large waves o f migration from the Cretan countryside to the cities. These waves con­
sisted mostly o f people o f modest means o f subsistence who had, on many occasions,
severed their bonds with their old social milieu in search o f a better life. Treated by the
authorities and by the local urban society as outsiders and pariahs,79 many o f them found
refuge in the Janissary regiments, creating relations o f social and financial dependence.
In that light, it comes as no surprise that such converts were often recruited as personal
guards o f Janissary officers who used them to protect their interests in ways reminiscent
o f mafia-like practices.80

76 The tension built between the two religious groups was demonstrated on various occasions.
Upon the appointment of the Russian consul Spalchaber, for example, the Christian inhabit­
ants of Hanya were warned by their Muslim compatriots that “the first among them to visit the
consul of Russia was going to be slaughtered” (Les grecs en revanche, sont dans lajoye de leur
coeur. Ils auroient certainement démontré cettejoye, s'ils ne craignoient d ’être assomés [sic]
par les turcs qui leur ont signifié que le premier d ’entr 'eux, qui irroit [sic] chez le consul russe
seroit mis en pièces)-, ANF, AE, B1, La Canée, Vol. 18 (6 October 1785). For another incident,
characteristic of this religious tension, see ADN, Constantinople, Série D, Candie, Vol. 2 (1
September 1780).
77 See, for instance, the uprising against the pasha of Kandiye that took place in November 1770
owing to the escape of some Sphakiot prisoners. The attack on the part of the rebels started
when their leader, Numan Aga, “donna le signal de la rebellion, avec l 'étendard sacré du
Prophète Mahomet qu’ilportoit à la main”-, ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 12 (24 November
1770; 4 December 1770).
78 This approach is typical of the traditional Greek historiography. On this issue, see Spyropoulos,
nposnavamariKri ômiKq Kpqzq, 97-142.
79 ‘fakavete tasaddi ve sekran oldiklari halde mahallat aralarinda müsellah getjt ü giizar ve iba-
dullahin ehl ve ayal ve evlad ve a ’râzlarina taarruz”', TAH.3:345-346.
80 ‘ferman-i âliyahud aga mektubi olmadikça lüzumi yogiken orta zâbitam tama-i hamlarindan
na$i çHrut-i islâmi ve erkâm bilmeyiib raiyet hiikminde olan bilâ-dirlik burma ta’bir olinur
eçhasi ortalara idhal ile müceddeden yoldaç yazmamak ve sujfe ta 'bir olinur mahalle hidme-
ti sebkat etmedikçe idhal etmemek”; TAFI.3:361-363. ubir müddetden berü belde-i mezkûrede
ikametleri mümted olmakdan na$i derun-i çehirde ve taçra kuralarda sakin ehl-i çakavete tesa-
hub ve miyanelerine yoldaç yazilmalarin tergib ile yol ve erkân bilmez yaramaz efkiyayi ziim-
relerine idhal”-, BOA, C.AS.524/21898; TALI.34:163. “Ceux qui ont commis le plus d ’assas­
sinats sont recherchés par les régiments, et jouissent de la protection entière de leurs Chefs, et
des Agas, qui s ’en servent au besoin, soit pour assommer à coups de bâton, ou faire assassi-
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA R LY 19™ C.) 469

T he p erio d w as also m a rk e d b y an u n c o n tro lle d p o sse ssio n o f w ea p o n s, w h ich , co m ­

bined w ith th e d ec lin in g a u th o rity o f th e p a sh a s a n d th e k a d is a n d o n a c c o u n t o f th e p ro ­
tectio n g iv en by Ja n issa ry officers to th e ir clien ts a n d g u ard s, g ra n te d a sta tu s o f im punity
to a co n sid erab le p a rt o f th e local p o p u la tio n a n d p ro v id e d m a n y o f th e m w ith th e o p por­
tu n ity to ta k e th e law in to th e ir o w n h a n d s .81 T h e im p o rta n c e o f th is last d e v e lo p m e n t can
b e e v a lu a ted in its tru e d im e n sio n s o n ly i f w e ta k e in to c o n sid e ra tio n th e in su la r ch a racter
o f C retan society, w h ic h h e ld —a n d still h o ld s in c e rta in areas - in g re a t e ste e m th e local
trad itio n o f b lo o d -fe u d s an d se lf-re d re ss.82 A s a re su lt o f all o f th e ab o v e, th e p e rio d after
1770 w as d o m in a te d b y a ste ep rise o f c rim in a lity .83 T h is p h e n o m e n o n afflicted b o th the
C h ristian a n d M u slim in h a b ita n ts o f th e islan d , a n d o v e rw h e lm e d th e O tto m a n au th o ri­
ties, w h o trie d in v ain to co n v in c e th e m ilita ry o fficers to p u t an e n d to it.84
C rim in ality co n stitu te d o n ly o n e a s p e c t o f Ja n issa ry v io le n ce . A n o th e r o n e o f its d i­
m en sio n s w as th e co lle c tiv e m o b ilisa tio n s in itia te d b y th e c o rp s on a c c o u n t o f p o liti­
cal an d financial claim s. F ro m 1770 to 1812, w ith o u t co u n tin g th e n u m e ro u s u p risin g s
ag ain st C h ristian s in th e is la n d ’s th re e c itie s w h ic h to o k p la ce d u rin g th e S p h a k io t revolt,

ner ceux qui leur déplaisent, soit pout susciter des révoltes contre les officiers supérieurs de la
Porte, tels que Pachas, Janissaire-Agas, Mufti et Cadi, qu ’ils suspendent de leurs fonctions, ou
embarquent ignom inieusem entR. Pashley, Travels in Crete, Vol. 2 (Cambridge and London
1837), 183.
81 During this period dozens of complaints on the part of local people and the administration con­
cerning murders committed by Janissaries who were protected by their officers “owing to their
solidarity relations” (zâbitleri dahi kendü cinslerinden olmak mülâbesesiyle) are to be found in
the sources. See, for instance, TAH.32:24; TAH.34:158, 163; TAH.37:8, 29, 31, 40, 42, 109,
137; TAH.40:5-6, 10, 96-97, 104, 105-106, 107, 124, 136-137; BOA, C.ZB.22/1075; Olivier,
Travels in the Ottoman Empire, 2:186.
82 On the tradition of blood-feuds in Ottoman and Venetian Crete, see Pashley, Travels in Crete,
2:245-251. On the modem dimensions of the phenomenon, see A. Tsantiropoulos, H fievwta
0tt ] myxpovrj opsivr/ KevxpiKq Kpqzr/ [Blood-feud in modem mountainous Central Crete]
(Athens 2004); idem, ‘Collective Memory and Blood Feud; the Case of Mountainous Crete’,
Crimes and Misdemeanours 2 (2008), 60-80; Spyropoulos, TIpoETiavacnaxiKr} SvziKq Kprjzq,
107-125.
83 This increase in violent incidents is often referred to in French sources as a “violent crisis”
{crise violente); MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 20:334-337.
84 See, for instance, the 1800 negotiations between the Governor of Kandiye, Hakki Mehmed
Pasha, and the local military elite pertaining to this issue; TAH.37:42, 43, 49-50. The Gov­
ernor wrote in one of his orders “Since my arrival to Kandiye I feel great pain seeing the
tragic condition to which the poor subjects of the nahiye have been reduced” (Kandiye'ye
geleli demande nahiye sakin reayalarin haline vâkif oldikça cigerim kebab olmada olub);
TAH.37:49-50. Also, see the following reports sent to the Porte in 1810 by another governor in
search of a solution to the problem; BOA, HAT.650/31789 N; BOA, HAT.650/31789 E; BOA,
HAT.650/31789 i; BOA, HAT.650/31789 C; BOA, HAT.650/31789 L; BOA, HAT.650/31789
M; BOA, HAT.650/31789 G; BOA, HAT.650/31789 B; BOA, HAT.650/31789 J. In 1808, the
French Consul of Hanya comments on the incapability of a certain pasha of stopping criminal­
ity, and writes that during his one-year administration more than 200 assassinations had been
committed; MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 21:69-70.
470 YAN N IS SPY R O PO U L O S

th e so u rces m ake refe re n c e to a sta g g e rin g 3 7 Ja n issa ry rev o lts an d c o lle c tiv e v io le n t m o ­
b ilisatio n s.85 It is d u rin g th is p e rio d th a t th e lo n g p ro c e ss o f p o p u la risa tio n a n d ‘d e m ilita ­
ris a tio n ’ o f th e Ja n issa rie s o f C rete re a c h e s its c o m p letio n . D e sp ite th e co n tin u in g d elay s
in Ja n issa ry p a y m e n ts ,86 in 1779 th e la st Ja n issa ry re v o lts on a c c o u n t o f sa la ry -re la te d
issu es to o k p la c e .87 F ro m th a t p o in t on, it b e c o m e s c le a r th a t th e Ja n issa ry m o b ilisa tio n s
d id n o t reflect th e co n c ern s o f a p ro fe ssio n a l a rm y an y m o re , b u t o n ly th o se o f c e rta in lo ­
cal in te rest g ro u p s an d , so m e tim es, o f larg er p arts o f th e C re ta n M u slim p o p u la tio n . T h is
ca n b e easily exp lain e d : th e ta s la k g is ’ n u m b e rs h a d b e e n in c re a sin g to su ch an e x ten t
th a t th e p ro v in c e ’s sa la rie d so ld iers e n d e d u p c o n stitu tin g o n ly a sm all fra ctio n o f th e
to ta l Ja n issa ry p o p u la tio n o f C rete. B e sid e s, ev en th e real Ja n issa rie s w ere p ro g re ssiv e ly
b ec o m in g u n in te re ste d in th e ir m ilita ry w ag e s, w h ic h th e y sa w as m e re su p p le m e n ts to
th e ir in co m e fro m th e ir o th e r fin an c ial a c tiv itie s in th e local m ark et. T h a t w as o w in g to

85 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 12 (25 October 1770, 24 November 1770, 4 December 1770);
ANF, AE, B 1, La Canée, Vol. 13 (10 July 1771 ; 14 October 1771 ; 10 December 1771 ; 3 Novem­
ber 1772; 23 January 1773; 26 April 1773; 27 October 1773); ADN, Constantinople, Série D,
Candie, Vol. 1 ( 16 October 1771); ANF, AE, B1, La Canée, vol. 14 (10 March 1774; 5 February
1776; 21 September 1776; 10 October 1776; 8 December 1776; 14 June 1775; 24 August 1775;
December 1775); ANF, AE, B1, La Canée, Vol. 15 (22 January 1777; 20 April 1777); ANF, AE,
Bl, La Canée, Vol. 16(14 May 1779; 16 May 1779; 10 July 1779; 31 December 1779; 23 April
1780); ADN, Constantinople, Série D, La Canée, Vol. 11:79-81; BOA, MAD.d. 17942:83-84;
BOA, C.AS.1141/50724; TAH.7:274-275; TAH.3L61-62; TAH.32:51-68, 81-92, 102, 132-
134; A. Anastasopoulos, ‘Political Participation, Public Order and Monetary Pledges (Nezir) in
Ottoman Crete’, in Eleni Gara, M. Erdem Kabadayt, and Christoph K. Neumann (eds), Popu­
lar Protest and Political Participation in the Ottoman Empire: Studies in Honor ofSuraiya Fa-
roqhi (Istanbul 2011), 127-142; De Bonneval-Dumas, Avayvcopiorj, 217-218; ANF, AE, Bl, La
Canée, Vol. 17 (14 July 1783; 30 September 1783); ADN, Constantinople, Série D, La Canée,
Vol. 12:100-103; ADN, Constantinople, Série D, Candie, Vol. 2 (17 June 1784); ADN, Con­
stantinople, Série D, La Canée, Vol. 13:32, 36-37, 39-40; ADN, Constantinople, Série D, La
Canée, Vol. 14:15-20; ANF, AE, B 1, La Canée, Vol. 18 (10 April 1785; lOMay 1785;30July
1785); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 19 (28 April 1786; 30 August 1791); ADN, Constanti­
nople, Série D, La Canée, Vol. 15:13-14, 19-20; ADN, Constantinople, Série D, Candie, Vol.
2 (14 May 1786; 21 May 1786;1 June 1786; 17 June 1786; 14 October 1786; 14 August 1787;
26 February 1810); TAH.34:158, 163; BOA, C.AS.524/21898; BOA, C.AS.332/13769; BOA,
C.AS.534/22328; BOA, C.AS. 1093/48239; BOA, C.ADL. 10/689; General State Archives of
Greece (GSAG), Archives of Rethymno Prefecture (ARP), R.-F.210A/92; MAE, CCC, La
Canée, Vol. 20:245-267, 294-295, 334-337; MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 21:23-43, 49-54, 69-
70; 81-83 and passim; S. Xanthoudidis, ‘ A v é k ô o t o v e u e i c ô S i o v e v K p f y t n E m ToopKOKpcmaç’
[Unpublished incident in Crete during Turkish rule], in N. Panagiotakis and Th. Detorakis
(eds), Ezsfp&vov SavOovôlSov MsXevqpma [Studies of Stephanos Xanthoudidis] (Herakleio
1980), 74-75; Raulin, Description physique, 296; Sieber, Reise nach der Insel Kreta, 1:108.
86 BOA, C.AS.1031/45233.
87 ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée, Vol. 16 (14 May 1779; 16 May 1779; 10 July 1779; 31 December
1779; 23 April 1780); ADN, Constantinople, Série D, La Canée, Vol. 11:3.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON TH E O TTO M A N PE R IPH ER Y ( 1 8 " '-EA R LY 19™ C.) 471

th e fact th a t th e ir salarie s h a d b ee n fro z en sin c e a t le ast 1740,8889d e sp ite th e d ec reasin g

silv er co n ten t o f th e a k ç e P
T h e d e m ilitarisa tio n o f th e C retan Ja n issa rie s a lso b e c o m e s e v id e n t th ro u g h th e ir
in creasin g refu sal to se n d so ld iers o u tsid e C rete in o rd e r to fig h t in im p e rial w ars. In the
y ears from 1777 to 1792, im p re ssm e n ts o f C retan so ld iers to o k p la ce w ith o u t m u c h resis­
ta n c e .90 Yet, from th a t p o in t o n w ard s, local so c iety w o u ld sta rt to re a c t to an y atte m p ts on
th e p art o f Istanbul to re c ru it C retan M u slim s fo r th e O tto m a n n avy. T h is led th e central
g o v ern m en t, fo llo w in g a se rie s o f in c id en ts d ire c te d a g a in st its d ele g a te s, e v e n tu a lly to
acq u iesce in a c ce p tin g m o n e y in stea d o f rec ru its fro m th e isla n d .91
T his rea ctio n reflects th e p re ssu re th a t th e C re ta n p o p u la tio n w a s p u ttin g o n th e local
n o tab les w h o w ere p u t.in ch arg e o f th e re c ru itm e n t p ro ce ss by Istan b u l. T h e se aghas,
m o st o f w h o m w ere h ig h -ra n k in g Ja n issa rie s, w ere n o t w illin g to c la sh w ith th e ir clients,
w ho, in tu rn , d id n o t w a n t to see th e ir c h ild ren g o to w ar. In o th e r w o rd s, th e so u rces
testify to a b o tto m -u p p ro c e ss o f n e g o tia tio n in sid e th e c o rp s, w h ic h d ire c tly in flu en ced
its overall stan ce to w ard s im p erial p o litics. S u ch in te rn al n e g o tia tio n s a n d co n flicts are
often v isib le in th is p erio d a n d rev eal a m u lti-la y e re d an d m u lti-c e n tre d stru c tu re o f the
Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s. T h u s, w h e n referrin g to th e la tte r’s p o litic s in C rete, w e sh o u ld b ear
in m in d th a t w e are n o t ta lk in g ab o u t a h o m o g e n e o u s o r stric tly h ie ra rc h ic a l sy stem o f
d ecisio n -m ak in g , b u t ra th e r ab o u t th e in te ra c tio n o f a se rie s o f g ro u p s o f in te re sts w h ich
could, d e p e n d in g on th e c irc u m sta n ce s, co n v e rg e o r d iv e rg e .92
T h e c o rp s ’ financial w as an a lo g o u s to a n d in te rd e p e n d e n t w ith its p o litic a l influence.
T h e C h ristian u p risin g o f 1770 g av e th e o p p o rtu n ity to so m e o f th e Ja n issa ry e n tre p re ­
n eu rs o f C rete to ta k e h o ld o f th e isla n d ’s flo u rish in g so ap in d u stry . In 1750, 7 0% o f
K a n d iy e ’s so ap p ro d u c tio n b e lo n g e d to local C h ristia n s.93 Y et, fo llo w in g th e ab o v e u p ­
risin g , a se rie s o f Ja n issa ry rev o lts led to th e d e stru c tio n o f K a n d iy e ’s so ap fa c to rie s and
fac ilita te d th e ir g rad u al, b u t co m p lete, a c q u isitio n b y M u slim s.94 A s a re su lt, b y 1811,
only fo u r p erso n s, th ree o f w h o m w e re h ig h -ra n k in g m ilita ry o ffic ers, w ere in co n tro l o f
all local so ap fac to ries.95 S im ila r d e v e lo p m e n ts c a n b e seen in th e ca se s o f in te re st loans

88 Cf. BOA, MAD.d.6568:363-384, 389-403, 663-695 with BOA, MAD.d.6280:567-584, 691-

704, 915-940 and BOA, MAD.d.6351:419-432, 603-620.
89 Pamuk, A Monetary History, 162-164, 188-195.
90 TAH. 19:283-288; TAH.29:128-129, 161; TAH.34:51-53, 110-111, 114-115.
91 TAH.39:187-188, 191; TAH.40:37-38, 46-47, 55, 109; BOA, KK.d.827:7, 31; MAE, CCC, La
Canée, Vol. 21:253-254; Spyropoulos, IJposTcavamaziKij Svzuaj Kpf\zr\, 170, 213.
92 See, for instance, the following occasions on which different interest groups inside the corps
clash with each other: BOA, C.AS.l 141/50724; TAH.7:274-275; TAH.3L61-62- TAH.32:51-
68, 81-92,102, 132-134; MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 21:23-43,49-54, 81-83 and passim. Also,
see the relevant comment of Kritovoulidis, Ajropvrjpovsvpaza, i5'-iç'.
93 TAH.3:286; T.A.H.37:132; V. Kremmydas, Oi oaitovvoizoiieq zr]ç Kpr\zr\ç mo 18o aiwva [The
soap factories of Crete in the eighteenth century] (Athens 1974), 39.
94 ADN, Constantinople, Série D, Candie, Vol. 1 (16 October 1771); ANF, AE, Bl, La Canée,
Vol. 13 (14 October 1771; 10 December 1771).
95 TAH.40: 110.
472 YANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

an d m a ritim e co m m erce , in w h ic h M u slim e n tre p re n e u rs w ith Ja n issa ry affiliatio n s rose

as th e m a in riv als o f th e F re n ch . A lre a d y in th e 1790s lo cal M u slim m a ritim e activ ity
h ad b een d e v e lo p in g rap id ly ,96 y e t it w as N a p o le o n ’s in v a sio n o f E g y p t in 1798 an d th e
su b se q u en t im p riso n m en ts o f F re n ch d ip lo m ats a n d m e rc h a n ts th a t g av e th e o p p o rtu n ity
to th e C retan Ja n issa ry n e tw o rk s to ta k e o v e r a larg e p a rt o f th e la tte r’s lu c ra tiv e co m ­
m e rc e.97 T h e sam e h a p p e n e d w ith th e co n tro l o f in te re st lo an s, a n o th e r p riv ile g e d d o m a in
o f th e F ren ch . T h e loans g iv e n b y Ja n issa ry v a k tfs to local b u sin e ssm e n , m a n y o f w h o m
w ere o ld clients o f F re n c h c re d ito rs,98 sk y -ro c k e te d in th e b e g in n in g o f th e n in e te e n th
century, as can b e d e d u c e d b o th b y K a n d iy e ’s p ro b a te in v e n to ries (te r e k e d e fte r le r i) and
by th e con fiscatio n reg isters o f re g im e n t p ro p e rtie s in 18 2 6 .99
A n o th er v ery im p o rta n t d e v e lo p m e n t w h ic h g av e m o m e n tu m to th e p o litic a l a n d fi­
nan cial activ ities o f th e Ja n issa rie s o f C rete a fte r th e 1770s w as th e rise in O tto m a n
p o litics o f th e C retan v a lid e k e th ü d a s i Y u su f A g a. Y usuf, w h o in th e c o u rse o f h is ca re e r
m a n a g e d to b ec o m e o n e o f th e ric h e st an d m o st in flu e n tial in d iv id u a ls in th e E m p ire, h ad
estab lish ed a so lid n e tw o rk o f rela tio n s w ith C rete, w h e re h e a n d h is re la tiv e s o w n e d v a st
p ro p erties an d v e ry p ro fitab le ta x -c o lle c tio n co n tra cts. Fie w as o n e o f th e m o st im p o rta n t
in v e sto rs in the o il a n d so a p in d u stry o f th e isla n d a n d a c lo se c o lla b o ra to r o f th e local
Ja n issa ry e lite .100 B e in g v irtu a lly p a rt o f th e im p e ria l h o u se h o ld an d v e ry c lo se to S elim
III, he o ften u se d h is p o sitio n in o rd e r to d ep o se a n d p u n ish th o se o fficials w h o a c te d
a g a in st th e in terests o f his a ffilia te s.101 H is p re se n c e in th e ce n tral g o v e rn m e n t th u s a c te d
as a g u ara n tee o f th e sm o o th c o n tin u a tio n o f th e financial-cw m -political ac tiv itie s o f th e

96 MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 20:231-233.

97 TAH.37:14; MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 20:245-267; V. Kremmydas, ‘XaponcrnpumKéç
ôv|/siç too E^coxepiKoi) epnoplau vqq BCppTriç (xékoç 18oi> kcxi ap%éq 19oo cacova)’ [Characteris­
tic aspects of the external trade of Crete (end of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth
centuries)], O Epavurtrjç, 16(1980), 194-195; Tancoigne, Voyage à Smyrne, 2:21-22.
98 Cf., for instance, TAH.45:98-117 with ADN, Constantinople, Série D, La Canée, Vol. 3:65-66
and Y. Triantafyllidou-Baladié, ‘Or mcrtcûcjeiç cmç egnopucsç crovcAkayéç cmyv KpfjTq tov 18o
aicova’ [Credit in the commercial transactions in Crete in the 18th century], in Tleitpaypéva E '
AieOvoùçKprjtoXoyiKov Zvveôpioü, Vol. 3 (Herakleio 1985), 227.
99 TAH.3:269; TAH. 19:358-359, 381-383; TAH.32:78-79; TAH.33:46-47; TAH.34:102,
168-170; TAH.37:11, 40, 43-44, 47, 73, 94, 134-135; TAH.38:27-29, 86-87; TAH.40:155;
T.A.H.4L14, 17, 27, 35, 37, 59-60, 63-64, 124, 137-140; TAH.42:12-19, 70-72, 165-166;
TAH.43:59, 67, 68, 79, 86, 93-94, 98, 112-113, 128, 180; TAH.45:98-117.
100 For the life of Yusuf Aga and his property in Crete, see TAH.19:333-334; TAH.33:65;
TAH.39:138-139; TAH.39T38-139, 179-180; TAH.43:125-126; L H. Uzunçarçih, ‘Nizam-i
Cedid Ricalinden Valide Sultan Kethüdasi Meçhur Yusuf Aga ve Kethüdazade Arif Efendi’,
Belleten, 20 (1956), 485-525; S. J. Shaw, Between Old and New: The Ottoman Empire under
Sultan Selim III, 1789-1807 (Cambridge 1971), 88-89 and passim', Bodman, Political Fac­
tions in Aleppo, 39-40; Stavrinidis, O Kanerâv MixâXrjç Kôpaxaç, 1:40-42, 45; Olivier, Tra­
vels in the Ottoman Empire, 1:209-210; M. Sariyannis, ‘Miairriyn yux xr|v Ttveupaxiicri Çcof| xqç
oOcopavucriç Kpf|xriç xou 18oo aicova’ [A source about spiritual life of the eighteenth century
Ottoman Crete], ApmSvri, 13 (2007), 87-88.
101 Kritovoulidis, Ampvripovevpam, i e ' .
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON TH E O TTO M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA RLY 19™ C .) 473

C retan Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s an d fo r th e im p u n ity o f th e ir c lie n ts .102 Yet, all o f th e ab o v e

w a s a b o u t to ch an g e.

1812-1821: Fighting f o r the established order

In 1807, S elim III w as d eth ro n e d an d his fa v o u re d Y u su f A g a w as e x e c u te d , w hile

M a h m u d IP s asce n t to th e th ro n e in 1808 g av e a n e w d y n a m ic to O tto m a n politics.
M ah m u d , w h o w as a su p p o rte r o f th e cre atio n o f a ce n tralisin g , au th o rita ria n O tto m an
p o lity th a t left little sp ace fo r cen trifu g al p o w ers to ev o lv e, q u ic k ly rea lise d th a t th e v ari­
ous p ro v in cial p o w er-b ro k e rs, be th e y a y a n s o r Ja n issa rie s, w ere sta n d in g in h is w ay. In
h is effo rt to rid h im s e lf o f th e p o litica l o p p o sitio n in th e p ro v in ce s, he d e c id e d to u se as
a w eap o n a n u m b e r o f d ev o te d im p erial ag e n ts w h o w ere to b e se n t to v a rio u s sa n c a k s
w ith o rd ers to in te rv e n e v io le n tly in local po litics. A c c o rd in g to § iik m Ilic ak , th is ‘de-
ay aw izatio n ’ p ro jec t w as la u n ch e d a t th e b e g in n in g o f th e se c o n d d ec ad e o f th e n in e­
te e n th century, resu ltin g th ro u g h o u t th e n e x t y ea rs in d o ze n s o f v io le n t c la sh e s betw een
th e se ce n trally ap p o in te d g o v ern o rs an d v ario u s p ro v in cial m a g n a te s.103
In C rete, th e g o v e rn o r w h o w as ca lle d u p o n to in itiate th is p ro ce ss in 1812 w as H aci
O sm a n P a sh a or, as th e C re ta n s ca lle d h im , th e ‘S tra n g le r’ (riv r/à p q ç ). O sm a n w as also
fo llo w ed b y o th e r d isc ip lin a ria n g o v ern o rs, m o st o f w h o m a c te d in an e x tre m e ly v io le n t
fash io n , alw ay s u n d er th e d ire c t su p e rv isio n a n d su p p o rt o f th e S u ltan . M a h m u d II, in his
d o zen s o f h a tt-i h iim a y u m , o p en ly p ro m p te d his p a sh a s to sh o w n o m e rc y to a n y o n e w ho
resisted th e ir policy, n o m a tte r w h at his so cial class o r m ilita ry ra n k w as, a n d n o m a tte r
i f h e w as p ro te c te d by th e Ja n issa ry statu s o f im p u n ity o r n ot. T h e p a s h a s , o n th e o th er
h an d , w e n t to C rete re a d y fo r w ar, b rin g in g w ith th e m h u g e en to u ra g e s w h ic h co n sisted
o f sev eral h u n d red so ld ie rs.104
T an co ig n e, w h o w as in H a n y a w h e n H aci O sm a n P a sh a a rriv e d to C re te , d escrib es
th e first m o n th s o f h is ru le as follow s:

Upon his arrival, Osman sought all the assassins who had been infesting the city [Hanya] and
its countryside for years. More than 60 were killed by his exterminating sword. An even great­
er number managed to escape his inexorable justice by fleeing. In a period of three months he

102 In 1805, the French consul commented on the neutralising effect that the actions of Yusuf and
his family had on any attempts of the governors of Crete to contain the Janissaries of the is­
land. He writes about the “prépondérence à Constantinople” that certain aghas of Crete had,
and mentions that, following a revolt and a murder committed by Janissaries in Hanya, “deux
fermons sont vénus pour la punition des coupables, et l ’on a vu en même temps l ’un des as-
sasins arriver de Constantinople muni de lettres de recommandation du frere du validé kia-
hia, plus puissantes que tous les f e r m o n s MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 20:334-337. On Yu­
suf’s pro-Janissary intervention in Cretan politics, also see ADN, Constantinople, Série D, La
Canée, Vol. 15:19-20.
103 H. S. Ilicak, ‘A Radical Rethinking of Empire: Ottoman State and Society during the Gre­
ek War of Independence (1821-1826)’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University,
2011,27-99.
104 BOA, HAT.500/24476; BOA, HAT.868/38598.
474 Y ANNIS SPY R O PO U L O S

finally restored peace and the law in an area which seemed not to recognise other authorities
than that of the leaders who had tom it apart... The terror and the horror were widespread. Even
the oldest crimes, those considered to be forgotten, were investigated and punished immedi­
ately with the same severity as the most recent ones.105

In d eed , th e M a h m u d ia n g o v e rn o rs’ d rac o n ian ru le su c c e e d e d in re d u c in g c rim in a lity o n

th e isla n d .106 A s fa r as th e c o lle c tiv e m o b ilisa tio n s o f th e Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s, on th e o th e r
h an d , are co n c ern ed , th e ir ta c tic h a d th e ex a c t o p p o site results.
A lth o u g h th e M a h m u d ia n p o lic ie s w ere a te rrib le b lo w fo r th e C re ta n Ja n issa rie s,
so o n afte r th e first sh ock, th e y sta rted re g ro u p in g an d flex in g th e ir m u sc le s o n ce again.
T h e p e rio d from 1812 to 1821 b e c a m e a tim e o f u n p re c e d e n te d clash e s b e tw e e n th e m an d
th e O tto m a n g o v ern o rs. T h e p ash as, in o rd e r to b re a k th e b o n d s b e tw e e n th e officers o f
C rete and th e local p o p u la tio n , trie d to w e a k e n th e w h o le se t o f p riv ile g e s th a t je lle d th e
Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s to g eth er. T h e y sy ste m a tic a lly v io la te d th e ju risd ic tio n a l au to n o m y o f
th e co rp s, th ey o rd e re d th e d e a th o f h u n d re d s o f sim p le so ld iers, a n d th e y ev e n c a u se d th e
ex e cu tio n an d co n fisc atio n o f th e p ro p e rtie s o f so m e o f th e ir m o st p ro m in e n t le a d e rs.107
T h ro u g h th e co -o p e ra tio n o f th e ce n tral Ja n issa ry a d m in istra tio n , th e g o v ern o rs su c c e e d ­
ed in p ro m p tin g th e a p p o in tm e n t o f p e rso n s o f n o n -lo c a l o rig in s to th e h ig h e st ran k s o f
th e C retan Ja n issa ry h ie ra rc h y .108 M o reo v e r, th e y a ttem p ted , an d so m e tim es su c c e e d e d
in th is, to tra n sfe r te m p o ra rily th e isla n d ’s m o st reb e llio u s re g im e n ts to o th e r O tto m a n
p ro v in c e s.109 T h e y ev e n w e n t as fa r as to a sk Istan b u l fo r th e ex e c u tio n an d re p la c e m e n t

105 Tancoigne, Voyage à Smyrne, 2:29-30. Also, see the French consular report on the issue,
MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 21:288-290.
106 Sieber writes in 1817: “Since then [1812] the roads in the whole of Crete are very safe and,
during my one-year stay, I was not warned once of bandits, which always stands as a proof
for the greatest of safety. The son of a Turk, from whom I was renting a house and who was
meeting with me regularly, complained to my escort that this year’s Bayram was awful. ‘Can
you imagine’, he asked, ‘that not even one Greek was shot this year; In the old days it was fun
to see the Greeks rolling on the ground’”; Sieber, Reise nach der Insel Kreta, 1:502. Also, see
MAE, CCC, La Canée, Vol. 21:297-298.
107 During this period, the judicial records of Kandiye are full of probate registers of Janissar­
ies. Many of them contain the phrase “died by hanging” (masluben fevt olari). For the cases
of various Janissaries and aghas who were executed and/or their properties confiscated, see
TAH.42:7-8, 10-25, 28-30, 50, 55-59, 63, 92-95, 157-158, 175-188, 199-201, 202-203; BOA,
C.DH.239/11906; BOA, HAT.339/19376; BOA, HAT.339/19401; BOA, HAT.720/34322;
BOA, HAT.500/24476; BOA, C.AS.598/25213; BOA, HAT.340/19444; BOA, HAT.340/19444
C; BOA, HAT.341/19513; BOA, HAT.519/25364; Detorakis, ‘Xpovucâ crr||iEiépaTa’, 133-
135; Sieber, Reise nach der Insel Kreta, 1:316, 420; Tancoigne, Voyage à Smyrne, 2:29-30.
108 BOA, HAT.500/24476; BOA, HAT.340/19444; BOA, HAT.340/19444 C; BOA,
HAT.341/19513; BOA, HAT.1339/52333; BOA, HAT.1338/52214; BOA, HAT.720/34346;
BOA, HAT.753/35540; Psilakis, Icnopia xrjç Kpijrrjç, 3:190; Kritovoulidis, Am/Jvrifxovev/uaTa,
is'; Detorakis, ‘Xpovucd appsitopaxa’, 135.
109 BOA, HAT. 1339/52333 ; BOA, HAT.339/19376; BOA, HAT.339/19401 ; BOA, HAT.500/24476;
BOA, C.AS.598/25213; BOA, HAT.511/25076; TAH.42T53-154; TAH.43H56; Th. Detora-
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L IT IC S ON TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y ( 18™ -EARLY 19™ C .) 475

o f p la in o r ta officers b y ce n trally ap p o in te d o n e s ,110 an e x tra o rd in a ry m e a su re w h ich

a im e d a t a tta c k in g th e n e tw o rk s a t th e ir co re, th e re g im e n ta l le v el, th re a te n in g th e ir local
ch a ra c te r an d ip s o f a c t o th e ir v ery ex isten ce.
It is im p o rta n t to u n d erlin e th a t, a lth o u g h sev eral Ja n issa ry rev o lts a g a in st O ttom an
g o v ern o rs h av e b ee n ta k in g p la ce ev e n b efo re 1812, after th a t y ea r th e re is an o b vious
ch an g e in th e ir intensity, th e ir sco p e, an d th e ty p e o f m o b ilisa tio n th a t fu e lle d them . T h e
lig h tn in g -fast pu rg es th a t M a h m u d II o rc h e stra te d in C rete sp u rre d the Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s
into c o llec tiv e actio n an d c h a n n elled th e m u c h m o re h a p h a z a rd an d fra g m e n te d vio len ce
o f th e p e rio d b efo re 1812 into a co n siste n t fight fo r a c o m m o n p o litica l p u rp o se. T h ro u g h ­
o u t th is p ro cess, th e Ja n issa rie s u n d o u b te d ly lo st p a rt o f th e ir p rev io u s p o w er, b u t th e y
also b ec am e m u ch m o re u n ite d an d se lf-a w a re th a n b efo re, claim in g , fo r th e first tim e,
th e rig h t to b e rec o g n ise d as th e official rep rese n tativ es o f th e local M u slim po p u latio n .
T he c h a n g in g w o rd in g u sed in O tto m an d o cu m en ts sta n d s as p ro o f o f th is reality.
W hen, fo r in stan ce, a g o v e rn o r o f K an d iy e trie d in 1814 to ex ile tw o reg im en ts w h ich h ad
rev o lted a g a in st his pred ecesso r, th e a b o v e -m e n tio n e d H aci O sm a n P ash a, th e Janissaries
called for m e etin g s in th e ir barrack s, w h ere ev e ry o n e (s ig a r ü k ib a r ) sig n e d a n agreem ent.
T h e p o p u la tio n g ath e re d o u tsid e th e p a § a k a p u si, w h ere th e re p re se n ta tiv e s o f th e five
reg im en ts o f th e city p rese n ted th e m se lv es in fro n t o f th e g o v e rn o r an d d e c la re d th at

the punishment of one of us equals the punishment of all of us. According to our agreement,
either all of our comrades who belong to the five regiments of the garrison of Kandiye will be
exiled together with the area’s entire Muslim population or our governor, under the command
of whom we are, will give pardon and exonerate our regiments which are being banished.111

A s m e n tio n e d ab o v e , ex ten d e d p o p u la r p artic ip a tio n in Ja n issa ry m o b ilisa tio n s w as

n o t so m e th in g new . Yet, b o th th e official a d m issio n o f g o v e rn o rs th a t b y co n fro n tin g th e
Ja n issa rie s th e y w e re , in fact, d ea lin g w ith th e a re a ’s en tire M u slim p o p u la tio n ,112 and
th e official claim o f th e Ja n issa rie s th a t th e y w e re o n e a n d th e sa m e w ith th e la tter are
n o w h ere to b e fo u n d in O tto m a n d o c u m e n ts o f e a rlie r p erio d s. B e fo re 1812, all official
so u rces w ere v ag u e ly tre a tin g th e M u slim p o p u la tio n as so m e th in g se p a ra te from th e
Ja n issa rie s. T h u s, th e ta s la k ç is w ere a lw a y s re p re se n te d as m a rg in al g ro u p s o f ban d its,
u su a lly c o n v e rts, d eta c h e d from th e re st o f so c iety .113 A t th e sa m e tim e, th e Ja n issa rie s
n e v e r o fficially ad m itte d th e ir p o p u la r su p p o rt, as th e y w ere w e ll aw are th a t it w as th e
re su lt o f th e illegal ad m itta n c e on th e ir p a rt o f th o u sa n d s o f p se u d o -Ja n issa rie s to th e ir

kis, ‘XpoviKdaqpei<B|j.ai:a’, 136-137; Sieber, Reise nach der Insel Kreta, T.492-494; Stavrini-
dis, O Katzet&v MixâÀtjç Kôpaxaç, 1:17-19.
110 BOA, HAT.720/34322.
111 “birimizin hakkinda zuhûr eden te 'dib ciimlemiz hakklarmda olmi$ gibidir mukteza-yi ittifa-
kimiz iizere Kandiye kalesi muhafazasinda mevcud olan be$ orta kâffeten yolda$larimiz ve
ahali-i memleket ile beraber kalkub gideriz veyahud maiyetine memur oldigimiz muhafiz pa-
$a nefy ve iclâl olman ortalarimm afüv ve itlak etdirir”', BOA, HAT.500/24476.
112 BOA, HAT.720/34322; BOA, HAT.1338/52214; BOA, HAT.511/25076.
113 See, for instance, TAH.3:345-346; BOA, C.AS.524/21898.
476 YAN N IS SPY R O PO U L O S

ran k s. It w as th e fro n tal c o llisio n c re a te d b y th e n e w p o litica l sta n ce o f Istan b u l w h ich

led to th e o v e rt rec o g n itio n b y b o th sid e s o f th e in e x tric a b le rela tio n o f th e local M u slim
so ciety w ith th e Ja n issa rie s, a re c o g n itio n w h ic h w o u ld co n tin u e un til th e su p p ressio n
o f th e corps. W h e n in 1826 th e Vak ’a - i H a y r iy e w as an n o u n c ed in C rete, fo r in stan ce,
M e h m e d A li o f E g y p t c o n su lte d w ith th e g o v ern o rs o f th e th re e cities an d e x p re sse d his
d o u b ts to th e S u ltan c o n c e rn in g th e a p p lic a tio n o f th e m e asu re in C rete, w h ich w as then
b e in g ra v a g e d b y th e G re e k W ar o f In d ep e n d en ce . H is co m m e n t w as th a t “th e ir [the is­
la n d ’s th re e c itie s ’] M u slim p o p u la tio n is th e stren g th o f th e Ja n issa rie s and, ac c o rd in g to
th em [the g o v ern o rs], th e ze al o f th e Ja n issa rie s is th e zeal o f Islam , it is a c c e p ta b le an d
ap p ro p riate u n d e r th e c irc u m sta n c e s” .114
B esid es th e o fficial a c k n o w le d g m e n t o f th is e n ta n g le m e n t th a t th e v ario u s referen c es
to th e p o p u la r su p p o rt o f th e Ja n issa rie s d em o n strate , su ch re feren c es are also reflec­
tio n s o f an in te n sify in g p o litic a l clu ste rin g o f th e M u slim so ciety aro u n d th e corps. A s
e x p la in e d ab o v e , un til 1812, th e Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s b e h a v e d m a in ly as th e sum o f a n u m ­
ber o f sep arate p a tro n a g e su b -n e tw o rk s w h ic h c o u ld e ith e r c o -o p e ra te w ith o r d iv erg e
fro m o n e another. S u ch g ro u p s o f in te rests h a d b ee n a ttac k ed sev eral tim e s - m o stly
u n su c ce ssfu lly - b y re p re se n ta tiv e s o f th e cen tral O tto m a n ad m in istra tio n . Yet, M a h m u d
I I ’s p o lic y d id n o t ta rg e t o n ly sp ecific p a rtie s in sid e th e C retan Ja n issa ry o rg an isatio n .
In stead , it v io le n tly c o n te ste d th e v ery fu n d am e n tal p riv ile g e s a n d ru les w h ic h fo rm e d
th e b e d ro c k o f th e p o litic a l an d fin an c ial stre n g th o f th e corps itself. In o th e r w o rd s, it
th re a te n e d to b rin g ab o u t, in a v ery a b ru p t w ay, m a jo r ch a n g es to th e lives o f th o u sa n d s
o f C retan s w h o w e re d e p e n d e n t u p o n th e Ja n issa rie s fo r th e p re se rv a tio n o r a m elio ra tio n
o f th e ir so c ial sta tu s, fo r th e p ro te c tio n a n d fu n d in g o f th e ir fin an cial activ ities. T h e g ra v ­
ity o f th is ex tern al th re a t su rp a sse d b y fa r th a t o f an y local g ru d g es and, co n seq u en tly ,
b ro u g h t th e v ario u s Ja n issa ry su b -n e tw o rk s clo se r to e a c h o th e r in d efen ce. A s a resu lt,
w h en th e G re e k W ar o f In d e p e n d e n c e b ro k e o u t in 1821, th e M u slim p o p u la tio n o f C rete
w as, a t a p o litica l lev el, m o re u n ite d th a n e v e r b efo re.

1821-1826: The fa ll
It is v ery h a rd to ca lc u la te th e e x te n t to w h ic h th e p o litic a l b an d in g to g e th e r o f th e C retan
M u slim s affec te d th e w a y th e y re a c te d to th e m ilita ry c o n flict th a t eru p te d b e tw e e n th e m
an d th e ir C h ristia n c o m p atrio ts. O n e th in g is fo r su re, th o u g h : th e 1821 rev o lu tio n fo u n d
th e Ja n issa rie s co m p le te ly u n p re p a re d fo r w a r a n d in a v ery v u ln e ra b le p o sitio n . A s th e
m ilita ry co n flict q u ic k ly sp re a d fro m th e S p h a k ia a re a to th e re st o f th e C retan n a h iy e s,
M u slim s sta rted flo ck in g fro m th e co u n try sid e to th e isla n d ’s u rb a n cen tres. In th e n ex t
th re e y ea rs, th e n e w s o f m a ssa c re s o f M u slim s b y C h ristia n fig h ters led to a se rie s o f
v io le n t Ja n issa ry m o b ilisa tio n s in sid e th e cities w h ic h w o u ld in c re ase th e p o la risa tio n
b etw e en th e tw o relig io u s g ro u p s ev en fu rth e r.115

114 “bunlarin ahalisi kavi-yiyeniçeri olub indlerinde yeniçerilik gayreti gayret-i islâmiyet mürec-
cah ve hasbe’l-mevakF; BOA, HAT.290/17385.
115 BOA, HAT.747/35284; BOA, HAT.843/37888 G; BOA, HAT.843/37888 J; BOA,
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L IT IC S ON TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA RLY 19™ C .) 477

O n th e battlefield , it q u ic k ly b e c a m e o b v io u s th a t th e Ja n issa rie s’ g ra d u a l d e m ilita ri­

sa tio n h a d ta k e n its to ll o n th e ir m ilita ry p e rfo rm a n c e . In S e p te m b e r 1821, th re e m o n th s
afte r th e e ru p tio n o f th e rev o lu tio n o n th e island, th e g o v e rn o r o f H an y a , L titfu llah P asha,
sen t an an g ry le tte r to th e S u ltan , in w h ic h h e e x p la in e d in d etail th e m ilita ry inefficacy
o f th e C retan so ld iers, a sk e d fo r re in fo rc e m e n ts, an d ex p re ssed th e fea r th a t “ G o d forbid,
sh o u ld h elp co m e by fo re ig n p o w ers to th e tra ito rs o f th e m ille t o f th e R u m s, th e y [the
soldiers] w ill n o t b e ab le to la st fo r m o re th a n th re e d ay s a g a in st th e e n e m y ” . 116 In 1822,
th o u sa n d s o f E g y p tia n a n d n o n -C re ta n O tto m a n tro o p s la n d ed o n th e isla n d in o rd er to
su p p o rt th e b esieg e d C re ta n m ilita ry fo rces. In th e p re se n c e o f th is tre m e n d o u s p o w er
an d b ein g u n d er co n sta n t a tta c k b y th e ad v a n c in g C h ristian s, th e Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s
rea lise d th a t th e y co u ld n o t co n tin u e to p u rsu e th e ir g o al o f p o litic a l d o m in a tio n o v e r th e
ce n trally a p p o in te d O tto m a n o fficials an y lo n g e r.117 T h e ir fig h t q u ic k ly tu rn e d into one
o f su rv iv al an d th e ir o n ly h o p e o f w in n in g th e w a r b ec am e th e M a h m u d ia n a n d E g y p tia n
forces. W h en , in 1826, th e su p p re ssio n o f th e co rp s w as o ffic ia lly p ro m u lg a te d , n o one
d are d to re a c t.118
A lth o u g h in th e e d ic t an n o u n c in g th e ab o litio n o f th e co rp s th e Ja n issa rie s w ere d e­
n o u n c e d as reb e ls, sp ie s, c ry p to -C h ristia n s, e tc .,119 th e m a in ju stific a tio n u se d b y th e c e n ­

HAT.904/39704; N. Stavrinidis, ‘ToupKOKpaxta’ [Period of Turkish Rule], in S. Spanakis

(ed.), To HpaxAsiov Km o vopôç zov [Heraklion and its prefecture] (Heraklion and Athens
1971), 197; S. Motakis (ed.), EvAAoyrj syypâtpœv Za%apla npaKziKiSr; (tj Taipryuhzf). ’Eyypaipa
ezcbv 1810-1834 [Collection of documents ofZacharias Praktikidis (or Tsirigotis). Documents
of the years 1810-1834] (Chania 1953), 12-14; Pashley, Travels in Crete, 2:185-187; Ch. R.
Scott, Rambles in Egypt and Candia, with Details o f the Military Power and Resources of
Those Countries and Observations on the Government Policy, and Commercial System o f Mo­
hammed Ali, Vol. 2 (London 1837), 335.
116 “maazallahü te 'aid, sair diivel tarafindan Rum milleti hainlerine bir iane ederi olsa üç gün
mukabele-i ddadapaydar olamayacaklari”; BOA, HAT.868/38598. For the letters sent to the
Sultan by the Janissaries and the rest of the local authorities in response to Lütftillah’s accusa­
tions, see BOA, HAT.936/40498 B; BOA, HAT.865/38559 E.
117 For analytical descriptions of the campaigns as witnessed by the Christian side, see Psilakis,
lazopla ttjç Kptjzpç, 3:333 and ff.; Kritovoulidis, Ampvr\povez>paza, 1-370; N. V. Tomadakis
and A. A. Papadaki (eds), Kptjzim lozopucâ éyypaipa, 1821-1830 [Cretan historical documents,
1821-1830] 2 vols (Athens 1974), passim. For accounts of the damage caused by the war and
its consequences for the Cretan Muslim population, see Bowring, Report on Egypt and Can­
dia, 155; C. A. Vakalopoulos, ‘Quelques informations statistiques sur la Crète avant et après la
révolution de 1821 ’, in Tlenpaypéva zov A ' AwOvovç Kp^zoAoyiKov Evvsôplov, Vol. 3 (Athens
1981), 30. For Ottoman sources referring to military campaigns until 1826, see TAH.43T67-
170; BOA, HAT.868/38598; BOA, C.AS.847/36182; BOA, HAT.936/40498 B; BOA,
HAT.865/38559 E; BOA, HAT.747/35284; BOA, HAT.865/38559 A; BOA, HAT.915/39931 B;
BOA, C.AS. 16/674; BOA, HAT.843/37888 I; BOA, HAT.858/38284; BOA, HAT.904/39704.
118 For the absence of reaction on the part of the Janissaries of Crete following the announcement
of the Vak’a-i Hayriye, see MAE, CCC, Turquie, Vol. 2:38-42.
119 “bu defa tutilub siyaset olanlarm içlerinde kefereden kolinda hem yetmif bef niçam ve hem
gâvur haçi bulmarak if te içlerine ecnas-i muhtelif kariymif ve iman içlerinde bu makule kefe­
reden ehl-i Islâm kiyafetinde casuslar b u lm d u g iTAH.45:82-85.
478 YAN N IS SPY R O PO U L O S

tral g o v ern m e n t w as a m ilita ry one. T h e d o c u m e n t m a d e e x p lic it re fe re n c e to th e c o rp s’

10 0 -y ear-o ld m ilita ry d e c lin e an d stre sse d its in effic ien c y d u rin g th e 178 7 -1 7 9 2 w ar. Yet,
i f w e ta k e a clo se r lo o k a t th e m e a su re s p ro m u lg a te d b y it, w e u n d e rsta n d th a t, at least
in th e w ay th e y w e re im p o se d in th e case o f C rete, th e ir g o als w e re m u c h m o re p o litica l
an d financial th a n m ilitary.
T h e ed ict a n n o u n c e d th e c re a tio n o f th e a rm y w h ic h w o u ld re p la c e th e Ja n issa ry
corps, th e Asakir-i Mansure-i Muhammediye (V icto rio u s S o ld iers o f M u h a m m a d ). It also
specified th a t th e n e w co rp s w o u ld be m a n n e d w ith e x -Ja n issa rie s, w h o w e re to keep
th e ir o ld salaries, u se th e ir o ld b a rrac k s, a n d se rv e a t th e sa m e p o sts as b efo re, w h ile no
m easu res w h atso e v e r w e re ta k e n c o n c e rn in g th e s o ld ie rs’ train in g . In m ilita ry te rm s,
su ch m e asu res w ere b are ly c h a n g in g a n y th in g b u t th e n a m e o f th e c o rp s, th u s fu lly ju s ­
tify in g th e e x p re ssio n “ fro m n o w o n th e name o f th e Ja n issa rie s is b ein g re m o v e d and
rep la ce d by th e title ‘V icto rio u s S o ld iers o f M u h a m m a d ’” u se d in th e d o c u m e n t.120 T h e
superficial n atu re o f th e 1826 m ilita ry re fo rm in C rete w a s u n d e rlin e d by th e g o v ern o rs
o f th e p ro v in ce as w ell; in a jo in t p e titio n to th e P o rte th e y c o m p la in e d th a t “ sin ce, o f
course, th e so ld iers e n ro lle d in th e Asakir-i Mansure w ill h av e to co m e fro m th e su p ­
p resse d corps, it is o b v io u s th a t th e y w ill be u se le ss” .121 Yet, alth o u g h n o sig n ifican t
m ilitary ch an g es w e re b ro u g h t a b o u t b y th e Vak ’a-i Hayriye in C rete, th e sa m e c a n n o t be
sa id w ith reg a rd to th e lo cal a rm y ’s n o n -m ilita ry fu n ctio n s.
U n lik e w h at h a p p e n e d w ith th e m ilita ry -o rie n ta te d a sp e c ts o f th e re fo rm , to w h ich
th e O tto m an so u rce s d e v o te n o m o re th a n a fe w lin es, d o ze n s o f d o c u m e n ts re fe r to th e
co n fiscatio n o f th e Ja n issa ry c o rp s ’ vakif p ro p e rtie s. O n ly th e co n fisc atio n re c o rd o f th e
im p erial reg im en ts o f K a n d iy e are e x ta n t today. Yet, ev e n fro m th is d o c u m e n t a lo n e it is
easy to u n d ersta n d th e tre m e n d o u s e c o n o m ic p o w e r th a t th e Ja n issa ry re g im e n ts h ad ac­
q u ired in C rete. In th e b a rra c k s o f o n ly fiv e o f th e m , w ith o u t ta k in g in to a c c o u n t th e ir real
estate p ro p erty an d w ith th e m o n e y in c a sh o f o n e o f th e re g im e n ts h a v in g m y ste rio u sly
d isap p eared , th e so u rce lists a p ro p e rty o f a p p ro x im a te ly 1 ,0 00,000 guruç. T w o th ird s o f
th is su m w ere re c o rd e d as d eb ts o f h u n d re d s o f in d iv id u a ls to th e Ja n issa ry vakifs in th e
form o f lo a n s.122
T h e m o st d ire c t c o n se q u e n c e o f th is c o n fisc a tio n w a s th e d isc o n n e c tio n o f th e fin an ­
cial in terests o f th o u sa n d s o f C re ta n s fro m re so u rc e s c o n tro lle d u n til th e n b y th e isla n d ’s
m ilitary elite. M o reo v e r, th e d e c la ra tio n o f 1826 n o te d th a t th e o ld ‘L aw o f th e Ja n issa r­
ie s ’ w o u ld be rep la c e d b y a n e w o n e .123 A c c o rd in g to th e ‘L a w o f th e V icto rio u s S o ld iers
o f M u h a m m a d ’ (Kanunname-i Asakir-i Mansure-i Muhammediye), an y o ffe n ce s o f the
Asakir-i Mansure tro o p s in th e p ro v in c e s w o u ld , fro m th a t p o in t on, b e re p o rte d to th e

120 “Fimabadyeniçerinin nanti külliyen ortadan kalkub amnyerine ma’lûm Asakir-i Mansure-i
Muhammediye unvamyla din ii devlete yaracak ve gaza ve cihada düçmana cevab verecek
ibid.
121 “Kandiye ve Resmo Asakir-i Mansure namiyla yazdiklari neferat elbette ocak-i merfu takimm-
dan olmak lâzim gelecegine binaen içeyaramayacagi tebeyyün etmiç”; BOA, HAT.289/17345.
122 TAH.45:98-117.
123 “Ocagin isim ve resim terkini ve kâffeten kanun-i kadimi âhir heyetiyle tecdid olmarak...”;
TAH.45:82-85.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L ITIC S ON TH E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y ( 1 8 1"-E A R L Y 19™ C .) 479

local g o v ern o rs, w h o w o u ld n o w be re sp o n sib le fo r th e ir p u n ish m e n t.124 T h is m easu re

n eg a te d in p rac tice th e ad m in istra tiv e an d ju risd ic tio n a l a u to n o m y w h ic h th e C re ta n so l­
d iers en jo y ed until 1826, as w ell as th e p ro te c tio n th a t an y re m a in in g ex -Ja n issa ry o f­
ficers c o u ld o ffer to th e ir o ld clien ts.
T h e O tto m a n g o v e rn m e n t also d ec la re d th a t in o rd er fo r ex -Ja n issa rie s to co n tin u e
rec eiv in g th e ir w ag es th e y h a d to first p re se n t th e ir o ld title s o f p a y m e n t to th e central a d ­
m in istratio n , a m e a su re in te n d ed to d isc o u ra g e an y Ja n issa ry -p re te n d e rs fro m jo in in g th e
n ew c o rp s .125 F inally , th e n e w arm y w as g iv e n a lm o st n o n e o f th e p ro v in c ia l a d m in istra ­
tiv e d u ties o f th e Ja n issa rie s. T h e ab o lish e d co u n c ils o f th e a g a k a p u sis w e re n o t rep la ce d
by an y eq u iv ale n t m ilita ry in stitu tio n , w h ile th e n e w c o u n c ils o f th e p ro v in c ia l g o v ern o rs
in c lu d ed no m ilita ry o fficers w h a ts o e v e r.126 In fact, o f all th e n o n -m ilita ry fu n ctio n s o f
th e Jan issa rie s, th e o n ly o n e th a t w as p re se rv e d an d tra n sfe rre d to th e A s a k ir -i M a n su re
o f C rete w as p o lic in g , a n d ev e n th a t ev e n tu a lly p a sse d in to th e h an d s o f th e so ld iers o f
th e E g y p tia n a d m in istra tio n . In o th e r w o rd s, alth o u g h th e a b o litio n o f th e Ja n issa ry corps
in C rete w as officially p re se n te d as a p u re ly m ilita ry refo rm , its real e m p h a sis w as on
th e su p p ressio n o f an y official a n d u n o ffic ia l n o n -m ilita ry a c tiv itie s w h ic h h a d en a b le d
th e d e v e lo p m e n t o f th e fin an c ial an d p o litica l p o w e r o f th e Ja n issa ry n e tw o rk s in th e
pro v in ce.

III. C o n c l u s io n

T h e y e a r 1826 d id n o t m a rk ju s t th e a b o litio n o f an o ld co rp s a n d th e c re a tio n o f a n e w

one. R ather, it re p re se n te d a ra d ic a l ch a n g e in th e O tto m a n g o v e rn m e n t’s p e rc e p tio n o f
w h at th e ro le o f an im p e ria l a rm y o u g h t to b e in a c h a n g in g w o rld . In th e e a rly m o d e m
era, th e m ilita ry in c lu d e d th e v a s t m a jo rity o f th e O tto m a n s ta te ’s e m p lo y e e s a n d h ad in ­
stitu tio n a l fu n ctio n s a n d d u tie s w h ic h w e re in d isp e n sa b le fo r th e E m p ire ’s a d m in istra tio n
an d econom y. T h e te rm ‘a s k e f , u se d fo r th e m e m b e rs o f th e e n tire O tto m a n g o v ern in g
class, is, afte r all, a re fle c tio n o f th is in e x tric a b le relatio n sh ip .
A lth o u g h w a r w a s o n ly o n e o f th e m a n y c h a lle n g e s it h a d to face, m o s t o f th e O tto ­
m a n a rm y ’s n o n -m ilita ry fu n ctio n s are n o t e v a lu a te d b y h isto ria n s in th e ir o w n rig h t as
fu n d am e n tal featu res o f a n early m o d e m in stitu tio n . In ste a d th e y are tre a te d as d ev ia­

124 Kanunname-i Asakir-i Mansure-i Muhammediye (Istanbul 1829), 136-137.

125 H. A. Reed, ‘The Destruction of the Janissaries by Mahmud II in June, 1826’, unpublished
Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, Department of Oriental Languages and Literatures,
1951,336.
126 For various references to the composition of the new administrative councils of the three cit­
ies, see ÎA, s.v. ‘Girit’ (C. Tukin); A. Anastasopoulos, ‘H Kprpri oxo oOmpaviKO nkaioio’
[Crete in the Ottoman context], Kprjxoloyncâ Ep&ppaxa, 17 (2001), 105-106; Bowring, Report
on Egypt and Candia, 155-156; Peponakis, EÇiolagiogoi xai eixaveKypiaxiaviopoi, 152-153;
Scott, Rambles in Egypt and Candia, 294, 344-345; L. Cass, An Historical, Geographical and
Statistical Account o f the Island o f Candia, or Ancient Crete (Richmond 1839), 12; M. Chour-
mouzis, KprjriKâ. Zvvxaxdévxa tcca acôodëvxa vm M. XovppoüÇp BuÇâvziov [Subjects pertain­
ing to Crete. Compiled and published by M. Chourmouzis Vyzantios] (Athens 1842), 20-21.
480 YAN N IS SPY R O PO U L O S

tio n s from th e a rm y ’s ‘tr u e ’ p u rp o se , i.e., c o n d u c tin g w ar, an d as p ro d u cts e ith e r o f an

e x o g e n o u s in stitu tio n al d e c lin e o r o f p riv a te in itiativ es a n d in terests. Yet, it w as som e
o f th e o ld e st n o n -m ilita ry fu n c tio n s an d in stitu tio n s o f th e Ja n issa rie s, such as th e ir ad ­
m in istrativ e ro le in th e p ro v in ce s, th e ir p o lic in g a n d ju d ic ia l d u ties, an d th e ir c o m m o n
fu n d s, w h ich p la y e d th e m o st im p o rta n t ro le in th e d e v e lo p m e n t o f th e ir E m p ire-w id e
n etw o rk s an d h e lp e d th e m b e c o m e m a jo r p o litica l p la y ers in b o th th e E m p ire ’s cen tre
an d p eriphery. It sh o u ld , th u s, co m e as n o su rp rise th a t th e M a h m u d ia n refo rm s g av e
g rea t em p h asis to th e tra n sfo rm a tio n o f th e im p erial a rm y from a m u ltifu n ctio n a l e sta b ­
lish m en t into an in stitu tio n w ith stric tly m ilita ry fu n c tio n s u n d er th e a b so lu te co n tro l o f
the cen tral g o v ern m e n t.
A n o th er g oal o f th e M a h m u d ia n re g im e w as to ta m e th e E m p ire ’s p ro v in cial forces.
In th is light, w h en ex a m in in g th e Vak ’a - i H a y r iy e , it is cru c ia l to u n d e rsta n d th a t, alb eit
fo rm ally Istan b u l-b a sed , th e im p e rial Ja n issa ry c o rp s w as, b y 1826, e sse n tia lly a p ro v in ­
cial institu tio n . A c c o rd in g to M o u ra d g e a d ’O h sso n , in th e se co n d h a lf o f th e e ig h tee n th
century, th e n u m b e r o f Ja n issa ry o r ta s in stalled in th e ca p ita l w a s o n ly 4 3 ,127 o u t o f th e
c o rp s’ 195 re g im e n ts .128 A s e x p la in e d in th is a rticle , th e re m a in in g 152 o r ta s h a d b een
a p p o in te d p erm a n e n tly to sp ecific lo c atio n s, g ra d u a lly d e v e lo p in g th e ir o w n reg io n al
n etw o rk s an d in te rests. A t th e sa m e tim e , th o u g h , th e y re m a in e d e n ta n g le d w ith one
an o th er an d w ith th e ir ce n tral o rg a n isa tio n b y m e an s o f a c o m m o n in stitu tio n al a n d le­
g itim isin g fram e o f referen c e.
W h en stu d y in g th e h isto ry o f Ja n issa ry u n its a n d n e tw o rk s in d iffe re n t O tto m a n p ro v ­
inces, o ne ca n sp o t b o th sim ila ritie s a n d d iffe re n c e s in th e ir d e v e lo p m e n t. T h is, afte r all,
is th e q u in te sse n c e o f th e d e c e n tra lisa tio n p ro c e sse s ex p la in e d ab ove. O n e sh o u ld n o t set
o u t to lo o k fo r ab so lu te u n ifo rm ity , w h en th e m a in e le m e n t w h ich d efin ed th e ev o lu tio n
o f th e Ja n issa ry co rp s in its la te r p h ase w as th e a d ju stm e n t o f v ario u s re g im e n ts to th e
cu ltu ral, fin an cial, a n d p o litic a l m ilie u o f d o ze n s o f d iffe re n t areas.
T h e case o f C re te d e m o n stra te s th e w a y s in w h ic h p ro v in cial Ja n issa ry n etw o rk s
c o u ld be fo rm e d in are as w ith a fro n tie r sta tu s a n d a m ilita ry -o rie n ta te d ad m in istra tio n ,
in p la ce s a t a g re a t d ista n c e fro m Istan b u l, larg e M u slim a n d C h ristian c o m m u n ities, an d
a stro n g c o n ta c t w ith th e W est. It g iv e s us v alu a b le in fo rm a tio n o n th e p ro c e sse s w h ich
led to th e se n e tw o rk s ’ p o p u la risa tio n a n d p o litic a l e v o lu tio n , o n th e circ u m sta n ce s u n ­
d er w h ich th e ir in te re sts c o u ld c o n v e rg e o r d iv e rg e , o n th e b en efits th e y o ffe re d to th e ir
m e m b ers and to local ec o n o m ie s, b u t also o n th e p ro b le m s a n d co n flicts th e y cre ate d at
a local an d im p erial level. It sh o w c a se s, a t th e sa m e tim e , th a t th e d e c e n tra lisa tio n o f
Ja n issa ry p o litics d id n o t b rin g a b o u t a ru p tu re w ith im p e rial p o litics. In stead , Ja n issa ry
p o litica l in itiativ es o n th e p e rip h e ry c o u ld b e in flu e n ced b y d e v e lo p m e n ts in Istan b u l an d

127 Mouradgea d’Ohsson, Tableau général, 7:312; The number rises to 77 if we add the 34 regi­
ments of the acemi oglan.
128 According to d’Ohsson, although the total number of Janissary regiments was officially 196,
the 65th cemaat had been accused of the murder of Sultan Osman II and abolished by Sultan
Murad IV in 1623; Mouradgea d’Ohsson, Tableau général, 7:312. In its place, the Janissary
payrolls register the soldiers of the 34 sekban regiments.
 JA N ISSA R Y PO L IT IC S O N T H E O TT O M A N PE R IPH ER Y (18™ -EA RLY 19™ C .) 481

tra n sm itte d fro m o n e p ro v in cial city to another. It th u s u n d e rlin e s th e n e e d to ex am in e

th e Ja n issa ry e s ta b lish m e n t as an o rg an ic w h o le in its diversity. Yet, it also ac ts as a re ­
m in d e r o f th e fac t th a t w e h av e to b e v ery ca refu l w ith g e n e ra lisa tio n s w h e n ex a m in in g
th e h isto ry o f th e corps. T h e la tter w as a v ery c o m p le x in stitu tio n an d its tra je c to ry o f
d e c e n tra lisa tio n d es c rib e d h ere o n ly m a d e it ev e n m o re c o lo u rfu l a n d d ifficu lt to analyse.
It is o n ly th ro u g h a ca se -b y -c a se stu d y th a t w e w ill be a b le to p u t m o re p ie c e s o f this
p u z z le to gether.
T h e ex a m in a tio n o f th e Ja n issa rie s o n th e O tto m a n p e rip h e ry h o ld s th e k e y to our
b e tte r u n d e rsta n d in g o f a se rie s o f cru c ial p o litic a l p ro c e sse s o f th e eig h te e n th a n d n in e ­
te e n th ce n tu ries. B e in g a ce n tra lly -b a se d in stitu tio n w ith b ra n c h e s in m o st o f th e E m ­
p ire ’s p ro v in c e s and th e ab ility to in c o rp o rate all so rts o f d iffe re n t social ele m e n ts in its
ran k s, th e Ja n issa ry co rp s w as o n e o f th e b est co n d u c to rs fo r th e tra n sm issio n o f p eo p le
a n d id e as in th e O tto m a n state. A s su ch , n o t o n ly d id it g iv e an im p e rial d im e n sio n to
p ro v in cial p o litics, it also p la y e d an im p o rta n t ro le in th e c re a tio n o f n e tw o rk s w h ich
tra n sc e n d e d lo calities an d so c ial strata, an d g re a tly co n trib u te d to th e p o p u la risa tio n o f
p o litica l p a rtic ip a tio n in th e E m p ire. A t th e sa m e tim e , th o u g h , Ja n issa ry n e tw o rk s w ere
fo rm e d o n th e b asis o f relig io u s, o r so m e tim e s e v e n e th n ic, c rite ria w h ic h c o u ld create
te n sio n s a n d ac t as in c u b ato rs o f p o litic a l conflicts.
H isto ria n s o f th e O tto m a n E m p ire o ften te n d to see th e ev o lu tio n o f th e Jan issary
c o rp s’ p o litica l id e n tity as a, m o re o r less, h o m o g e n e o u s a n d lin e a r p ro ce ss, larg ely d e­
fin ed by d ev e lo p m e n ts in Istan b u l. It is tru e th a t th e Ja n issa rie s’ ch a in o f c o m m a n d led
to th e im p erial cap ita l a n d th a t th e ir o rg a n isa tio n c a n n o t b e fu lly u n d e rsto o d w ith o u t
referen c es to th e ir cen tral ad m in istra tio n . It is a lso tru e th a t Ista n b u l re m a in e d u n til 1826
o ne o f th e m o st im p o rta n t stag es o f th e ir p o litic a l a c tiv ity a n d th a t th e O tto m a n sources
g ive em p h asis o n th e c o rp s ’ sta n ce to w a rd s b ig p la y e rs in im p e ria l p o litics, lik e S ultans,
G ran d V iziers, an d o th e r p o w erfu l o fficials w h o w e re clo se to th e palace. Yet, w h a t this
p a p e r p ro p o se s is th at, in o rd er to u n d e rsta n d th e tru e n a tu re o f Ja n issa ry p o litic s and
th e ir im p lica tio n s fo r th e O tto m a n sta te a n d so ciety , one h as to p a y a tte n tio n to th eir
p ro v in c ia l asp ec ts as w e ll. T h ro u g h o u t th e y e a rs, th e Ja n issa ry a d m in istra tio n b ecam e
in c re asin g ly d ec en tra lise d . A s a resu lt, th e m o re o n e a p p ro a c h e s th e last c e n tu rie s o f the
c o rp s ’ ex iste n ce, th e m o re in d isp en sa b le th e ex a m in a tio n o f its h isto ry fro m a p ro v in cial
p ersp e c tiv e b ec o m e s fo r th e p ro p e r u n d e rsta n d in g o f its p o litic a l ro le.
 THE GREEK WAR OF INDEPENDENCE
AND THE DEMISE OF THE JANISSARY COMPLEX:
ANEW INTERPRETATION OF THE ‘AUSPICIOUS INCIDENT’

H . Ç ü k rü I l ic a k *

to detach the abolition of the

T he re ha s b e e n a ten d en cy a m o n g m a n y O tto m a n ists
Janissary complex (in other words, the commencement of Ottoman/Turkish modernity)
from the Greek War of Independence,*1namely, the uprising of a subject people against
whom, exactly a century later, the ‘Turks’ would happen to conduct their own war of in­
dependence and create their own national narrative, myths, and stereotypes. I argue that it

* Independent scholar. I am very grateful to Marinos Sariyannis and Yannis Spyropoulos for
painstakingly preparing my article for publication.
Abbreviations:
FO: Foreign Office
FIAT: Hatt-i Hiimayun (Imperial Scripts)
TNA: The National Archives (London)
1 Mehmet Mert Sunar and Christine Philliou have both pointed to the role that the Greek War
of Independence played in the creation of a new balance of power in Istanbul which, in turn,
paved the way for the events of 1826; M. M. Sunar, ‘Cauldron of Dissent: A Study of the
Janissary Corps, 1807-1826’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Binghamton University 2006,
181-199; Ch. Philiou, Biography o f an Empire: Governing Ottomans in an Age o f Revolution
(Berkeley 2011), 74-81. For similar remarks concerning the provincial Janissaries, see Y. Spy­
ropoulos, ‘Koivcovucij, bioucrpncij, oiKovopncij kcu îioÀ.mKij ôidaxooTi tou oOcopaviKou axpa-
tou: oi yEvterapoi -rqç KpijTT|ç, 1750-1826’ [Social, Administrative, Financial, and Political
Dimensions of the Ottoman Army: The Janissaries of Crete, 1750-1826], unpublished Ph.D.
dissertation, University of Crete 2014, 342-381; see also his article in the present volume. For
some recent research on the Greek War of Independence, see FI. Çükrü Ihcak, ‘A Radical Re­
thinking of Empire: Ottoman State and Society during the Greek War of Independence, 1821-
1826’, unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 2011 and the studies collected in
A. Anastasopoulos and E. Kolovos (eds), Ottoman Rule and the Balkans, 1760-1850. Conflict,
Transformation, Adaptation. Proceedings o f an international conference held in Rethymno,
Greece, 13-14 December 2003 (Rethymno 2007) and P. Pizanias (ed.), The Greek Revolution
o f 1821. A European Event (Istanbul 2011). Finally, on the destruction of the Janissaries see H.
A. Reed, ‘The Destmction of the Janissaries by Mahmud II in June 1826’, unpublished PhD
dissertation, Princeton University, 1951 and Dictionnaire de TEmpire Ottoman, s.v. ‘Janissar­
ies, Suppression (1826)’ (A. Levy).
484 H. ÇÜK.RÜ ILIC A K

w as the G reek R evolu tion ’s unsettling effects that paved the w ay for m om entous chang­
es in the dynam ics b etw een the Ottoman state and society, and created a sp ecific moral
universe w hich enabled the central state elite to stifle social dissent and create, as w ell
as im pose, a conform ism w ithin M uslim so ciety regarding the abolition o f the Janissary
corps. A lthough it is by n o w a com m onp lace that the corps had gradually incorporated
large urban strata, through both expanding their activities in the market and representing
the interests o f the M uslim low er urbanites at the political lev el,2 all sources agree that
there w as no notew orthy popular support for the defiant Janissaries during the so-called
‘A usp icious Incident’, probably for the first tim e in centuries. The dism antling o f an al­
m ost five-century-old b ody so d eeply seed ed in so ciety becam e p ossib le on ly through the
silen ce o f the m asses, w hich indicated apathy m ore than anything, in an atm osphere o f
discontent and frustration o f apocalyptic proportions.
B efore beginning to analyse this process, I should state that this paper is m ostly based
on the British A m bassador Lord Strangford’s detailed and w ell-inform ed reports to Lon­
don, as its main source o f information for the period. Ottoman historiographers have
om itted m any issues w hich injure the grandiose im age o f the saviour-Sultan M ahm ud II.
A lso, w e can m ake sen se o f m any o f the undated Ottoman docum ents and o ccasion ally
recover the v o ic e o f the com m on folk and the Janissaries on ly through Strangford’s cor­
respondence w ith London.

* * *

It appears that by the tim e o f the G reek R evolution, a certain stratum o f the Janissaries,
the ustas, had already established its dom ination over the corps and b ecom e the repre­
sentative o f the com m on Janissary before the state. Strangford defined the ustas as “jun ­
ior officers”, w h o w ere “the m ost turbulent and dangerous characters am ong the ch iefs
o f the janissaries”. A ccord in g to Robert W alsh, the Chaplain o f the British Em bassy, w ho

2 During the last decades, a growing literature deals with the political role of Janissaries as vir­
tual representatives of large parts of the Ottoman Muslim society and a force imposing limi­
tations on sultanic authority. For some of these works, see Ibid; A. Yildiz, Crisis and Rebel­
lion in the Ottoman Empire: The Downfall o f a Sultan in the Age o f Revolutions, (London and
New York 2017); A. Yaycioglu, Partners o f the Empire: The Crisis o f the Ottoman Order in
the Age o f Revolutions (Stanford 2016); idem, ‘Révolutions de Constantinople: The French and
the Ottoman Worlds in the Age of Revolutions’, in P. M. E. Lorcin and Todd Shepard (eds),
French Mediterraneans: Transnational and Imperial Histories, (Lincoln and London 2016),
21-51; B. Masters, ‘Aleppo’s Janissaries: Crime Syndicate or Vox PopuliT, in E. Gara, M. E.
Kabadayi, and Ch. K.. Neumann (eds), Popular Protest and Political Participation in the Ot­
toman Empire: Studies in Honor o f Suraiya Faroqhi (Istanbul 2011), 159-176; B. Tezcan,
The Second Ottoman Empire: Political and Social Transformation in the Early Modern World
(New York 2010); C. Kafadar, ‘Janissaries and Other Riffraff of Ottoman Istanbul: Rebels
Without a Cause?’, IJTS, 13 (2007), 113-134; D. Quataert, ‘Janissaries, Artisans and the Ques­
tion of Ottoman Decline, 1730-1826’, in E. B. Ruano-M. Espadas Burgos (eds), 17th Interna­
tional Congress o f Historical Sciences. 1: Chronological Section, Madrid-1990 (Madrid 1992),
197-203.
 TH E G R EEK WAR OF IN D E P E N D E N C E 485

resided in Istanbul during the G reek R evolution, the Janissaries considered the ustas their
protectors. If w e put together the titbits o f inform ation in official docum ents and chroni­
cles, w e can deduce that the ustas w ere officers at the regim ental level and had organic
relations w ith the com m on folk .3 B ein g am ong the ranks o f the esnaf, the ustas were able
to m obilise the low er classes o f the Janissaries. Ottom an docum ents su g g est that it w as
a body o f around 30 ustas, rather than the Janissary A gh a or other senior Janissary o ffic­
ers, w ho conducted negotiations w ith the central state on b eh a lf o f the Janissary corps.4
I f w e are to b elieve Strangford’s account, in the w ake o f the G reek R evolution, the
Sultan and his favourite, Halet Efendi, lived in “continual terror”5 o f the Janissaries and
the Sublim e Porte “w as obliged to tem porize and to do m any things contrary to its ju d g­
m ent and intentions for the sake o f keeping them in good hum our” .6 The Sublim e Porte
preferred to content itse lf with lim ited and im perfect authority over the Janissaries rather
than to drive them to open insurrection by op p osin g their w ish e s.7
The ustas ’ direct intervention in Sublim e Porte politics began as soon as the Greek
R evolution erupted. The Sublim e Porte entertained and generated grow ing apprehensions
o f an im m inent R ussian war fo llo w in g the Ipsilantis revolt in M oldow allachia.8 In the
face o f the extrem e R ussophobe atmosphere, the Janissary party dem anded to partici­
pate in the central state’s p olicy-m aking process in order to keep Halet E fen d i’s pro-war
tendencies in check. The Janissaries’ anti-H alet Efendi d isposition b ecam e evident as
soon as they w ere requested to dispatch troops to M old ow allachia and their opposition
to the governm ent turned into uncontrollable dem onstrations fo llo w in g the Grand Vizier
Benderli A li Pasha’s deposition. The Janissaries, particularly the 2 5 th, 3 1 st, 5 6 th, and 6 4 th
Ortas, w hich, reportedly, had long nourished an im placable hatred towards H alet Efendi,
w ere exasperated by B end erli’s banishm ent and attributed the situation to the intrigues o f
H alet Efendi and his party.9 T hey held m eetings to restore Benderli to office, causing “the
utm ost uneasiness to the governm ent as w ell as to all classes o f the inhabitants” o f Istan­
b u l.10 D esp ite the fact that the city w as already the scen e o f anarchy and anti-G reek crowd

3 Strangford to G. Canning, 28 February 1823, TNA/FO 78-114/19; R. Walsh, A Residence at

Constantinople; During a Period Including the Commencement, Progress, and Termination o f
the Greek and Turkish Revolutions, Vol. 2 (London 1836), 509. See also Sunar, ‘Cauldron of
Dissent’, 109 and passim.
4 See for example BOA/HAT 17328.
5 Strangford to Castlereagh, 25 April 1822, TNA/FO 78-107/22. Sunar, on the other hand, sees
the participation of junior Janissary officers as a result of Halet Efendi’s policy, underlining the
latter’s close relation with the corps; Sunar, ‘Cauldron of Dissent’, 181-185.
6 Strangford to Castlereagh, 25 September 1821, TNA/FO 78-101/18.
7 Ibid.
8 See Ç. Ilicak, ‘The Revolt of Alexandras Ipsilantis and the Fate of the Fanariots in Ottoman
Documents’, in Pizanias (ed.), The Greek Revolution, 225-239.
9 Christine Philliou points to the role of Halet Efendi as a “Janissary patron” who acted as an in­
termediary between the corps and the Phanariots. The Greek War of Independence, according
to Philliou, disrupted this nexus of relations and turned the Janissaries against him; Philliou,
Biography o f an Empire, 74-77.
10 Strangford to Castlereagh, 10 May 1821, TNAFO 78-98/32.
486 H. ÇÜKRÜ ILIC A K

action headed by the Janissaries, the Janissaries’ dem and for the heads o f Halet Efendi
and the B e r b e r b a ç i Yakub A g a on 4 M ay 1821 m et w ith the Sultan’s outright refusal. In
the m onths w hich fo llo w ed , the Sultan kept thousands o f A natolian se k b a n troops at the
outskirts o f Istanbul to hold the Janissaries in check, but at this point the Ottom an dy­
n asty’s perceived traditional tenure o f legitim acy w as the Sultan’s on ly leverage against
the Janissaries." H ence, at least i f w e are to b eliev e Strangford, M ahm ud II threatened
the Janissaries w ith putting an end to his life and to that o f his on ly son i f they persisted
in their petition, and dem anded the full and unconditional subm ission o f the corps.1112 One
day after the dem onstrations, on 5 May, the Janissary A gh a assem bled the heads o f the
different Janissary corps and bought their allegiance to the Sultan for 6 0 0 thousand p ias­
tres. The Janissary com m anders put out a statement ap ologisin g for their m isconduct and
declaring their resolution to subm it unconditionally to the Sultan’s w ill.13
A t the con clusion o f that very sam e m eeting, an even t took p lace w hich Strangford
described as “époque m aking” . A senior Janissary officer, Y usu f A ga, addressed a speech
to the ç e y h ü lisla m , co n v ey in g the u s ta s ’ dem and to participate in the adm inistration o f
state affairs. The u s ta s argued that the disturbances had hitherto arisen from the fact that
the Janissaries did not have any representatives on the Imperial C ouncil ( m e c lis -i s u r a ).
A ccording to the u sta s, th ese cou n cils had alw ays been com p osed o f the m inisters and
the ch iefs o f the ulem a; h ow ever, the military, form ing a great and m ost important part o f
society, w ere totally exclu d ed from partaking in deliberations on matters that frequently
affected them and their interests. This had naturally resulted in the Janissaries’ discontent
and su spicion toward the administration. T he u sta s claim ed that no sooner had the low er
orders o f the Janissaries heard o f a m eetin g at the Sublim e Porte than they im m ediately
concluded that the ex isten ce o f their corps w a s under threat, and tum ult and insubordina­
tion w ere the inevitable con sequ en ces. The Janissaries’ petition w as h astily approved by
the Sultan, but in all lik elihood w ith intense resentm ent.14 A s a result, for the very first
tim e in Ottoman history, the Janissary A gh a and tw o u s ta s w ere perm itted to be present at
the Imperial C oun cils, launching a tw o-year period o f direct u sta intervention in Sublim e
Porte politics.
What w as revolutionary about the u sta s' participation in the Imperial C ouncil w as
the fact that for the first tim e the low er strata o f the Janissaries had a legal and legitim ate
venue to negotiate their w ay through ‘big p o litic s’. T he Imperial C ouncil had hitherto
been a council o f the central state elite and its d ecision s w ere im posed on the subjects.
The u s ta s ' participation, how ever, w as a case o f a ‘m eaningful d iscou rse’ b etw een the
ruler and the subjects, preventing the p olitical crisis o f the state from turning into a crisis
o f legitim acy.15 In the n ext tw o years, the overw helm ing human and material cost o f the

11 Strangford to Castlereagh, 25 May 1821, TNA/FO 78-98/39; Strangford to Castlereagh, 2 July

1821, TNA/FO 78-99/19; Strangford to Castlereagh, 10 July 1821, TNA/FO 78-99/24.
12 Strangford to Castlereagh, 10 May 1821, TNA/FO 78-98/32.
13 Ibid.
14 Strangford to Castlereagh, 25 May 1821, TNA/FO 78-98/41.
15 Sunar, ‘Cauldron of Dissent’, 185-187.
 TH E G R EEK WAR OF IN D E P E N D E N C E 487

G reek R evolution w as legitim ised through the inclusion o f the m ost contentious section
o f society in the state’s d ecision-m aking process. The confrontations b etw een the Janis­
saries and the state did not reach the point o f open revolt and both parties m anaged to
survive this period through m inor dem onstrations and heated negotiations.
A n unexpected consequ en ce o f the n ew regulation for the u sta s w as the Sultan’s suc­
cess in u sing the Imperial C ouncil to im pose his ow n agenda on the Janissaries. Thanks to
the legitim isin g effect o f the G reek insurgency, the Sultan put forward the reform o f the
Janissary corps for the first tim e sin ce his enthronement. A t the Imperial C oun cil m eeting
on 19 M ay 1821, the Sultan proposed to introduce European tactics am ong all Ottoman
troops. The u s ta s g av e their consent on the condition that they should not be com p elled to
w ear uniform s and the “obnoxiou s term o f N iz a m -i C e d id ” should not be re v iv e d .16 Soon
after this, how ever, for unknow n reasons, the Janissaries form ally retracted their consent
and declared their intention o f resisting the proposed innovation. One m onth later, on 23
June, the reform project w as on ce again su ggested to the Janissaries, but the proposal
w as withdrawn in the face o f fierce op p osition .17 A t the sam e m eeting, the Sublim e Porte
proposed sending a large body o f Janissaries to the M orea, but this idea w as a lso rejected
by the corps. The reform proposal w as put forward for the last tim e on 31 July at the
Imperial C ouncil w h ich conven ed to discu ss the question o f p ea ce or war w ith R ussia.18
O nce the threat o f a Russian war disappeared and the com m otion in M old ow allach ia died
dow n by late A ugust, the Janissary party veh em ently op posed the reform project.
W hat probably aroused the resentment o f the Ottoman administrators m ore than the
Janissaries’ reluctance to fight or their resistance to reform w as the increasingly interven­
tionist role played by the u sta s in state affairs. E ven issues such as the appointm ent o f
n ew v o y v o d a s to M oldow allachia,19 the content o f diplom atic notes to be given to Euro­
pean am bassadors,20 and the appointm ent o f provincial and central state administrators21
becam e subject to the approval o f the u sta s, w h o sought to put their ow n associates in
these positions. It is possib le to see in the Sultan’s h a tt-i h iim a y u n s how indignant he was
at the protracted negotiations betw een the Sublim e Porte and the u sta s and h o w he was
com pelled to com e to an understanding with them out o f despair. For a Sultan w h o was
convinced that he had a h oly m ission to save religion and the state, every intervention on
the part o f M uslim s against re-inventing h im self as an om nipotent ruler in the im age o f his
glorious ancestors w as also a matter for astonishm ent. H ow w as it possib le that the Janis­
saries did not consider them selves in the sam e boat w ith the Sultan in the face o f the upris­
ing o f a subject people w hich threatened the existen ce o f the state? Instead o f reinforcing
his efforts, “these fello w s (i§te bu h e rifle r )” claim ed the Sultan in a h a tt-i h iim a yu n ,

16 Strangford to Castlereagh, 25 May 1821, TNA/FO 78-98/41.

17 Strangford to Castlereagh, 26 June 1821, TNA/FO 78-99/11.
18 Strangford to Castlereagh, 6 August 1821, TNA/FO 78-100/6.
19 Strangford to Castlereagh, lOMay 1822, TNA/FO 78-108/8.
20 Strangford to Castlereagh, 5 March 1822, TNA/FO 78-107/1.
21 According to Esad Efendi, the ustas imposed their own candidates to be appointed voyvodas
in the provinces, see Sahhaflar Çeyhi-zade Seyyid Mehmed Es‘ad Efendi, Vak'anüvis E s'ad
Efendi Tarihi (1821-1826), ed. Z. Yilmazer (Istanbul 2000), 174.
488 H . ÇÜKRÜ ILIC A K

never kept their word and occasionally paralysed the system of the entire Empire by interven­
ing in affairs that were none of their business [...] And they caused most of the current troubles.
In every method considered to bring order [to the corps], an inconvenience was found, and it
seemed as if there were no remedies. However, it was obvious that as long as their petitions
were tolerated so as to prevent opposition, they would intervene in more issues [...]. Their cor­
rupt practices disturbed the order of the Empire and caused complete disarray in administrative
matters at such a critical time.22

A major turning-point leading to the abolition o f the Janissary com p lex took p lace in
June 1822 and w a s triggered by a Janissary conspiracy to instigate a general m assacre
o f the Greeks in Istanbul. A lleged ly, “som e o f the m ore desperate o f the yamaks23 in
conjunction w ith the low er order o f Janissaries” hatched a plot w hich w ou ld secure them
the perm ission o f the Sublim e Porte to m assacre the Greeks in Istanbul and plunder their
property. The conspirators had provided a num ber o f G reek costum es and planned to at­
tack random ly against M u slim s in d isguise on the last even in g o f Ramazan so that the
Sublim e Porte w ou ld b eliev e there had been a general G reek uprising and w ou ld order the
Janissaries to put it down. T he plan w as d isclosed and the Sultan issued a furious hatt-i
hiimayun directed against the 2 5 th, 2 7 th, 3 1 st, and 6 4 th Ortas and threatened the Janissar­
ies w ith “changing the seat o f em pire and [retiring] w ith his sons to som e p lace w here
he should no longer behold his authority contem ned” unless the officers o f the corps put
a stop to these disgraceful e x c e sse s and punished the culprits.24 A s a result, the c h ie f o f­
ficers o f the Janissaries together w ith those ustas, not w ish in g to be associated w ith the
riffraff (erazil) and fearing they m ight otherw ise receive the “slap o f the state”, launched
a m assive hunt.25 “I do not exaggerate”, reported Strangford, “w hen I state the num ber o f
those w h o have been executed, im prisoned and banished at nearly five thousand” .26
F ollow in g the conspiracy, the ustas m ost lik ely w anted to restore the credit o f the Jan­
issaries in the ey e s o f the p eo p le by punishing the recalcitrant elem en ts w ithin the corps.
To this end, they even con sented to restrain a notorious source o f in com e o f several ortas.
Traditionally the Janissaries affixed the distingu ish in g badges o f their regim ents (ni§an
tahtasi) to the v e sse ls arriving in the harbours and seized a certain portion o f the cargoes
or allow ed only the affiliates o f their regim ents to transport the cargoes. Latterly, these
badges had been affixed ev en to tobacco stores and groceries. D uring the hunt, the ustas
w ent round Istanbul, rem oved these badges and sent them to the office o f the Janissary
A gh a in sacks.27

22 Mahmud IPs Hatt-i Hiimayun, undated, BOA/HAT 25729.

23 On the yamaks and their role in the early nineteenth-century Istanbul, see A. Yildiz, ‘The Anat­
omy of a Rebellious Social Group: The Yamaks of the Bosporus at the Margins of Ottoman
Society’ in A. Anastasopoulos (ed.), Halcyon Days in Crete VU: Political Initiatives ‘From the
Bottom Up’in the Ottoman Empire (Rethymno 2012), 291-324.
24 Strangford to Castlereagh, 25 June 1822, TNA/FO 78-108/33.
25 Haci Salih Pasha (Grand Vizier) to Mahmud II, undated, BOA/HAT 19371.
26 Strangford to Castlereagh, 10 July 1822, TNA/FO 78-109/1.
27 Haci Salih Pasha (Grand Vizier) to Mahmud II, undated, BOA/HAT 19371; Haci Salih Pasha
(Grand Vizier) to Mahmud II, undated, BOA/HAT 19499.
 TH E G R EEK WAR OF IN D EPEN D EN C E 489

With the conspiracy, the higher echelon s o f the corps began to separate their interests
from those o f the low er strata o f the Janissaries, including the ustas. The elderly and the
com m anders o f the corps stood in support o f the central state and em p loyed the forces
under their direct control to enforce the state’s m easures. This w as a major breaking-
point w ithin the com p lex, yet, despite their m agnitude and im portance, none o f these
events w ere m entioned by the official historiographers o f the period, Sanizade and Esad
Efendi (and thus, neither by C evdet nor by any other historian).28
In N ovem b er 1822, H alet E fen d i’s m iscalculated and bold act in ex ilin g and eventu­
ally execu ting Haydar Baba, a popular Bektashi dervish and a resident o f the 9 9 th Orta,
in w hom the Janissaries apparently found consolation, gave rise to extrem e com m otion
am ong them .29 T he strife caused H alet Efendi to lo se his head and also the w ithdrawal o f
the ustas from the Imperial C oun cil.30
There are m ore m yths than facts about H alet Efendi, but he was certainly a m uch
hated figure. S ince 1811, he had been the m ost dom inant person in im perial politics and
alienated a lot o f p eop le. H ence, the v ie w that he w as the cause o f all the E m pire’s prob­
lem s, including the G reek R evolution, w as not a m ere d iscourse o f court historians but a
w idespread perception am ong the p eop le o f Istanbul. A nd w ith his execu tion , Ottoman
religious, military, and bureaucratic elites co a lesced around the Sultan, and together they
grew into som e form o f paternalistic autocracy. T he Sultan w a s no m ore the prince-in-
seclu sion . H e w as determ ined to exercise his sovereign authority by his o w n personal
supervision. A s soon as H alet Efendi departed from Istanbul, it w as on ly for the second
tim e sin ce his enthronem ent that M ahm ud II attended a cabinet m eeting at the Sublim e
Porte, w here he urged his m inisters to hasten the preparations for the Imperial F leet to be
dispatched to the M orea in the spring exp ed ition .31
T he absolution o f the dignitaries w h o had been banished by Halet Efendi responded
to both adm inistrative and id eological concerns and fostered the n ew role the Sultan
assum ed for him self. T he b en evolent act o f the forgiving paternal Sultan and the re­
em p loym ent o f dignitaries marked another break w ith H alet E fen d i’s regim e. B y Febru­
ary 1823, dozen s o f ex iled state dignitaries w ere back in Istanbul.32 In the years w hich
follow ed , no important state b usiness could be settled w ithout the approval o f the Sultan
and “no one beyond the lim its o f the seraglio w a s observed to take any lead in the m an­
agem ent o f affairs”.33 T he m inisters refused to act and even hesitated to g iv e an opinion.

28 See Çâni-zâde Mehmed ‘Atâ’ullah Efendi, $âni-zâde târîhi [Osmanli tarihi (1223-1237 /
1808-1821)], ed. Z. Yilmazer (Istanbul 2008); Es'ad, Tarih; Ahmet Cevdet Paça, Tarih-i Cev­
det: tertib-i cedid (Konstantiniye H. 1309/1893) and now Ahmet Cevdet Pa$a: Osmanli tmpa-
ratorlugu Tarihi, M. Güçlükol and B. Bozkurt (eds), 2 vols (Istanbul 2011).
29 On Haydar Baba’s exile and his role in the Janissary revolts of 1807-1808, see Sunar, ‘Caul­
dron ofDissent’, 189-190; Yildiz, Crisis and Rebellion, 190-191.
30 For the events surrounding the execution of Halet Efendi, see Ilicak, ‘A Radical Rethinking of
Empire’, 236-246.
31 Strangford to G. Canning, 25 November 1822, TNA/FO 78-111/21.
32 Es'ad, Tarih, 141-142; Strangford to G. Canning, 10 February 1823, TNA/FO 78-114/7.
33 Strangford to G. Canning, 10 December 1822, TNA/FO 78-111/27.
490 H. ÇÜKRÜ ILIC A K

N evertheless, the e lite ’s attitude seem s m ore voluntary than enforced. The longer the
m ost detrimental problem o f the central state, nam ely, the G reek R evolution, rem ained
in a deadlock, the m ore the need for a saviour-leader figure w as reaffirmed. The Sultan’s
and the state e lite ’s legitim acy increasingly depended on the perform ance o f the state in
suppressing the G reek R evolu tion as the cost o f the war to the com m on folk incessantly
escalated.
Public despair had so m uch increased sin ce the begin ning o f the G reek R evolution
that the com m on M u slim folk, even the Janissaries, also cam e to tolerate the im positions
o f a saviour-leader, rather than rebel against him. D a ily life b ecam e ever m ore diffi­
cult because o f the protracted instability all around the Empire. Com m ercial life and the
provisioning o f major cities suffered years o f stagnation because o f the devastation o f
M oldow allachia, slu ggish R ussian B lack S ea trade, and G reek piracy in the entire East­
ern Mediterranean. C onsequently, there w ere often fo o d shortages in Istanbul and appre­
hensions o f fam ine, w hich com p elled the Sublim e Porte to purchase co m from European
m erchants for exorbitant sum s in order to prevent riots.34 A lso , inflation w as galloping.
B etw een 1821 and 1826, the Sublim e Porte resorted to debasem ent at least four tim es.35
T he main concern w as to pay the salaries o f the m ercenaries and the Janissaries’ ulûfe
w ith the debased m on ey and reduce the burden o f the state.
In addition to the flaggin g state o f the econom y, daily life b ecam e intolerable because
o f occasion al fires, ep id em ics, and various natural disasters, and the prolonged drought
o f 1822, w hich affected the entire northern hem isphere from China to C alifornia. A n
earthquake in A ugu st 1822 devastated the entire provin ce o f A lep p o and took 2 0 ,0 0 0
lives. There w as at least on e serious p lague and one sm allp ox outbreak in Istanbul in
D ecem ber 1824 and the spring o f 1825, resp ectively.36 O ne o f the m ost disastrous fires
in the history o f Istanbul broke out on 1 M arch 1823, and destroyed 15,000 h ou ses in an
area encircled by the Firuz A ga, Fxndikli, A yas Pa§a, and the Bozahane districts. I f w e
are to b elieve Strangford, the fact that not a sin gle Christian h ouse had been dam aged in
the fire produced such a strong im pression upon the Turks that the populace w as loud in
declaring this calam ity “a visitation o f providence in ven gean ce for the atrocities co m ­
m itted at C hios, and even the m inisters o f the Porte avow ed that they considered it as a
mark o f divine displeasure” .37
In short, all th ese dism al events and ever-increasing popular discontent translated into
an apocalyptic m indset and grow in g expectations o f a saviour am ong the O ttom an Turks
w hich w as perfectly captured in the fo llo w in g verses:38

34 Mahmud IPs Hatt-i Hiimayun, undated, BOA/HAT 45423.

35 Çânî-zâde, §ânî-zâde târîhi, 2:1144-1145; Strangford to Castlereagh, 10 August 1821, TNA/
FO 78-100/10; Strangford to G. Canning, 25 September 1822, TNA/FO 78-111/5.
36 Strangford to G. Canning, 11 December 1824, TNA/FO 78-125/33; Reed, ‘The Destruction of
the Janissaries’, 88.
37 Strangford to G. Canning, 10 March 1823, TNA/FO 78-114/23.
38 N. S. Banarli, Devlet ve Devlet Terbiyesi (Istanbul 2007), 166-168. The poetry is from a manu­
script in Banarh’s collection. My translation, edited by Sevda Çaliçkan.
 TH E G R E E K WAR O F IN D EPEN D EN C E 491

Ipsala Çamlica Havza adasi Psara, Hydra, Spetses islands

Yakti cigerümüz Mora yakasi That Morea caused us great pain
Dilerim hakdan yerebatasi May the Almighty bring it down
Hakk ’a tevekkiil ol Padiçahim Trust in God, my Sultan

Çeçmeler kurudu abdest almmaz Fountains are dry, ablution is out

Mescidler kapandi namaz kilmmaz Mosques are shut down, you cannot perform salat

Kadir mevlam hikmetinden sorulmaz God must surely have a plan

Mehdi 'ye mi kaldiyol Padiçahim? But should we wait for the Messiah, my Sultan?

Bu A$ikM ihn’ni dahletmesakin Do not blame Mihri, the minstrel

Kaçyildir dünyanm hâline bakin Just look at the state of the world
Korkanm ki Deccal 'in çikmasi yakin I fear the Antichrist will soon appear

Kryamet yakindir bil Padiçahim Know that doomsday is near, my Sultan

Thus, there is little w onder w h y the Prophet M uham m ad should have sent a letter to
M ahm ud II in February 1823, bearing his seal and the Sultan’s address on the envelope,
warning him that true M uslim piety w as d ecaying, and inform ing him that in the last
tw o years, out o f 7 0 ,0 0 0 M uslim s w h o perished in battle, on ly 4 7 had been allow ed to
enter the gates o f heaven. A ccord ing to the story, on the night o f 2 0 D ecem b er 1822, one
o f the guardians o f the Prophet’s grave in M edina found a letter addressed to the Sultan
w hich he delivered to the Conductor o f the Pilgrim s (siirre emini) w h o took it with him
on his return to Istanbul. Strangford reported that the letter w as presented to the Sultan,
w ho w as “less flattered w ith the honour o f a letter from the Prophet, than scandalized at
the freedom w ith w h ich his H ig h n ess’ conduct has been canvassed in Paradise.”39 The
letter w as published in several European journals, probably to m ock Turkish ignorance
and fanaticism . B ut it appears that various version s o f this letter becam e w id ely known
in Istanbul and influenced public opinion.
It w a s on ly under such circum stances that the elim ination o f the ustas from the p oliti­
cal scen e did not provoke a Janissary rebellion. A s becam e apparent, the G reek R evolution
w as testing the janissary corp s’ legitim acy as m uch as that o f the state. The central state’s
efforts to curb the influence o f the ustas culm inated with the appointm ent o f Rusçuklu
H üseyin as Janissary A gha. On 28 February 1823, on his seco n d day in o ffice, H tiseyin
A g a launched a vigorous wsfa/Janissary-hunt, w h ich w as triggered by the segirdim ustas’
m afia-like intervention in the appointm ent o f a G reek bishop.40 In the subsequent few
m onths, a great num ber o f the ustas w ere either banished from Istanbul or put to death,
and the rem aining on es apparently subm itted to the Sublim e P orte’s authority.

39 Strangford to G. Canning, 28 February 1823, TNA/FO 78-114/20.

40 Strangford to G. Canning, 28 February 1823, TNA/FO 78-114/19.
492 H. ÇÜKRÜ IL IC A K

In the three years w hich fo llo w ed , there w ere no n egotiations b etw een the state and
the Janissaries, nor w ere there any attempts on the part o f the state to seek approval from
the Janissaries for its d ecision s and actions. B y A ugu st 1823, the corps w as so hum bled
that the state w as able to p u b licly execu te ustas, a hitherto “unprecedented occa sio n ” ac­
cording to Strangford.41 D em olition o f Janissary co ffee-h o u ses and h ostels {odd) around
A sm aalti in late July 1823 did not arouse any op position .42 In January 1824, H iiseyin
A ga began carrying out b i-w eek ly European-style m ilitary drills w ith supp osed ly the
m ost refractory class o f the Janissaries, the yamaks, w h o quietly gave their con sent to
this “infidel” innovation.43 T h e centuries-old practice o f affixing the badges o f ortas to
v essels and stores w as suppressed altogether on 2 M arch 18 2 4 .44 D ep oliticisation o f the
corps also brought about som e m ilitary m obilisation. In the 1824 expedition, a Janissary
force o f 50 bayraks (6 ,0 0 0 m en ) w as dispatched to E griboz (E uboea) and the A ttica
region from Istanbul.45 H ow ever, they proved u sele ss, and lack o f co-ordination and
m istrust betw een the Janissaries and the m ercenaries caused disorder in the army. D uring
the sieg e o f A thens in the sum m er o f 1824, m ost o f the Janissaries fell sick, “Juried their
banners”, lifted the sieg e, and left for Istanbul w ithou t asking the p erm ission to do so.46
T he Sublim e Porte had contracted out the suppression o f the G reek uprising to A lb a­
nian warlords. H ow ever, in D ecem ber 1823, w hen Buçath M ustafa Pasha, the mutasarrif
o f Içkodra (Shkodër) and the patriarch o f the predom inant dynasty o f the Geg Albanians
lifted the sieg e o f M eso lo n g i, in other w ords, the epicentre o f G reek resistance, Otto­
man administrators b ecam e con vin ced that the G reek revolt cou ld not be suppressed by
relying on an ethnic group w h ich w as not external to the issue. The need for a standing
army operating under the direct com m and o f the Sublim e Porte m anifested itse lf on ce
again w ith the Buçath crisis and propelled the question o f Janissary reform to the fore.
B y 1826, the im m inent threat o f a R ussian war, cou p led w ith the n ew s o f the capture o f
M esolon gi by Ibrahim Pasha’s b ayonet-using and d isciplined Egyptian forces not only
expedited the m ilitary reform s but also turned a p o ssib le m ilder solution o f the Janissary
issue into a radical one.
H ow ever, to this end, the Sublim e Porte had to w in the ulem a to its cause. O ne o f
the m ost important con seq u en ces o f the G reek R evolu tion for the O ttom an state w as the
disengagem ent o f the ulem a from the Janissary com p lex and their re-alignm ent with the
central state. From the very b egin ning o f the insurrection, the ulem a b ecam e the prom ot­
ers o f w hat m ight be called Islam ic/religious patriotism. O nly 18 years previously, in the
m idst o f a R ussian war, the ulem a-Janissary coalition had co st the reform ing Sultan S e­

41 Strangford to G. Canning, 11 August 1823, TNA/FO 78-116/7.

42 Es‘ad, Tarih, 247.
43 Strangford to G. Canning, 10 January 1824, TNA/FO 78-121/5.
44 Strangford to G. Canning, 10 March 1824, TNA/FO 78-121/32.
45 Strangford to G. Canning, 30 December 1823, TNA/FO 78-118/21.
46 Ômer Pasha (Muhafiz of Egriboz/Euboea) to Sublime Porte, 30 August 1824, BOA/HAT
40093; Ômer Pasha (Muhafiz of Egriboz/Euboea) to Sublime Porte, 1 September 1824, BOA/
HAT 25048-B.
 TH E G R EEK WAR OF IN D EPEN D EN C E 493

lim III his head.47 This tim e, in the m idst o f a war against a reaya p eople and on the brink
o f another R ussian war, it w as the central state that w on the com petition over the control
o f Sharia. T he su ccess o f the central state lay in gaining the upper hand in determ ining
the index o f being a M u slim .48
This w as ach ieved by rallying the ulem a to the state’s cause and creating a moral po­
sition according to w hich deeds sp oilin g the unity o f M uslim s against the “infidels w ho
w ere trying to tram ple upon the M uslim s and annihilate the state o f Islam ” cam e to mean
“g ivin g an opportunity to the en em y” .49 This had been one o f the mantras in vok ed by the
Sublim e Porte throughout the G reek R evolution to allay opposition. A n y act o f defiance
against the authority o f the state had b ecom e not only illegitim ate but also im moral. A ll
legitim acy w as given to the state by the “ex ig en cy o f the tim e”, w hich allo w ed for such
extraordinary m easures.
T hose w h o have been critical o f M ahmud IPs absolutist regim e fo llo w in g the aboli­
tion o f the Janissary corps, w ith the benefit o f hindsight as to w hat was not achieved by
the corps’ abolition, n am ely a self-m otivated and victorious army, obscure the fact that
the question had b ecom e a highly moral issue by the tim e o f the ‘A u sp iciou s Incident’.
The Ottoman central state elite took a leap o f faith and abolished the Janissary corps not
n ecessarily because it w as the best thing to do, but because they began to b elie v e it was
the right thing to do.
The Sublim e Porte’s encounter w ith the ‘national idea’ and years o f u nsuccessful
m obilisation efforts against unyield ing G reek insurgents translated into the n eed to cre­
ate a n ew kind o f M uslim man w ho w ou ld m ob ilise and sacrifice all his resources, in­
cluding his life, for religion and state. With this goal in mind, the Janissary cam e to be
view ed as the antithesis o f this im agined proto-citizen, and the existen ce o f the Janissary
com p lex d oom ed the prospects for the im position o f a sense o f M uslim patriotism and
m ilitary m obilisation to failure. H ence, the dem ise o f the Janissaries ought to be view ed
as the Ottoman central state’s attempt at top-dow n social engineering, aim ed at creating
a hom ogenised M uslim society, a proto-nation, w ith few er sources o f dissent, and also a
d isciplined standing army com p osed o f ethnic-Turkish soldiers.
To sum m arise, m y research sh ow s that the Janissaries’ attempt at institutionalised po­
litical participation, w h ich began in the turbulence o f the G reek R evolu tion, terminated
in N ovem ber 1822. B y A ugu st 1823, the network o f the ustas, w h o form ed the backbone
o f the Janissary com p lex, had been silen tly broken. The low er strata o f the Janissaries
w ere thus left w ithout leadership, and by the tim e o f the abolition o f the co m p lex , the
Janissaries had already been hum bled to the utmost. From this p erspective, the Janissary
revolt in June 1826 w as the corps’ last struggle for survival, rather than the reaction o f the
m onstrous bastion o f the Ottom an ancien régime against the forces o f m odernity.

47 For the role of ulema in the Janissary revolt of 1807, see Yildiz, Crisis and Rebellion, 31-38.
48 Sunar, ‘Cauldron of Dissent’, 196-197.
49 See, for example, Mahmud IPs Hatt-i Hiimayun, undated, BOA/HAT 25590.