Turkish Sovereignty is a Polite Formality
The reign of Sultan Abdul Hamid II (1876–1909) began with a disastrous foreign war; it terminated in the turmoil of revolution. And during the intervening three decades of his régime the Ottoman Empire was forced to wage a fight for its very existence—a fight against disintegration from within and against dismemberment from without.
One of the principal problems of Abdul Hamid was the government of his vast empire in spite of domestic dissension and foreign interference. His subjects were a polyglot collection of peoples, bound together by few, if any, common ties, obedient to the Sultan’s will only when overawed by military force. In Turkey-in-Asia alone, Turks, Arabs, Armenians, Kurds, Jews, Greeks combined to form a conglomerate population, professing a variety of religious faiths, speaking a diversity of languages and dialects, and adhering to their own peculiar social customs. Of these, the Armenians were receiving the sympathy, support, and encouragement of Russia; the Kurds were living by banditry, terrorizing peasants and traders alike; the Arabs were in open revolt.[1]
Nature seemed to make more difficult the task of bringing these dissentient peoples under subjection. The mountainous relief of the Anatolian plateau lent itself to the success of guerrilla bands against the gendarmerie; a high mountain barrier separated Anatolia, the homeland of the Turks, from the hills and deserts of Syria and Mesopotamia, the strongholds of the Arabs. The vast extent of the empire—it is as far from Constantinople to Mocha as it is from New York to San Francisco—still further complicated an already tangled problem, for there were not even the poorest means of communication. Under these circumstances the authority of the Sultan was as often disregarded as obeyed. To police the country from the Adriatic to the Indian Ocean, from the borders of Persia to the eastern coast of the Mediterranean, was a physical impossibility. Universal military service was enforced only in the less rebellious provinces. It was almost out of the question to mobilize the military strength of the empire for defence against foreign invasion or for the suppression of domestic insurrection. Efforts to build up effective administration from Constantinople were paralyzed by incompetent, insubordinate, and corrupt officials.[2]
To these problems of maintaining peace and order at home there was added the equally difficult problem of preventing the extension of foreign interference and control in Ottoman affairs. The integrity of Turkey already was seriously compromised by the hold which the Great Powers possessed on Turkish governmental functions. Under the Capitulations foreigners occupied a special and privileged position within the Ottoman Empire. Nationals of the European nations and the United States were practically exempt from taxation; they could be tried for civil and criminal offences only under the laws of their own country and in courts under the jurisdiction of their own diplomatic and consular officials; in fact, they enjoyed favors comparable to diplomatic immunity. By virtue of treaties with the Sultan the Powers exercised numerous extra-territorial rights in Turkey, such, for example, as the maintenance of their own postal systems.[3]
The finances of Turkey, furthermore, were under the control of the Ottoman Public Debt Administration, composed almost entirely of representatives of foreign bondholders and responsible only to them. The Council of Administration of the Public Debt—composed of one representative each from the United Kingdom, France, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy, and Turkey—had complete control of assessment, collection, and expenditure of certain designated revenues. In fact, it controlled Ottoman financial policy and exercised its control in the interest of European bankers and investors. Customs duties of the Sultan’s dominions might be increased only with the consent of the Great Powers. Almost all administrative and financial questions in Turkey were directly or indirectly subject to the sanction of foreigners.[4]
European governments were not content to interfere in the affairs of the Ottoman Empire. They sought to destroy it. Their zeal in this latter respect was limited only by their jealousies as to who should become the heir of the Sick Man. Russia encouraged the Balkan and Transcaucasian peoples to resist Turkish domination; France acquired control of Tunis and built up a sphere of interest in Syria; Great Britain occupied Egypt; Italy cast longing glances at Tripoli and finally seized it; Greece fomented insurrection in Crete. Germany and Austria-Hungary sought to bring all of Turkey into the economic and political orbit of Central Europe. The Powers rendered lip-service to the sovereignty and the territorial integrity of the Ottoman Empire, but they never allowed their solemn professions to interfere with their imperial practices. At best Turkish sovereignty was a polite fiction—it was always a fiction, if not always polite.
The economic backwardness of Turkey emphasized the existing political confusion and instability. From one end of the empire to the other, it seemed, obstacle was piled on obstacle to prevent the modernizing of the nation. Brigandage made trade hazardous; there were almost no roads; the rivers of Anatolia and Cilicia were not navigable; the mineral resources of the country had been neglected; internal and foreign customs duties were the last straws to break the camel’s back—business was taxed to death. Agriculture, the occupation of the great majority of the people, was in a state of stagnation. The absence of systems of drainage and irrigation made the countryside the victim of alternate floods and droughts. Methods of cultivation were archaic: the wooden plow, used by the Hittites centuries before, was among the most advanced types of agricultural implements in use in Anatolia and Syria; harvesting and threshing were performed in the most antiquated manner; fertilization and cultivation were practically unknown. Markets were inaccessible; the peasant could not dispose of a surplus if he had it; therefore, production was limited to the needs of the family, and the Turkish peasant acquired a widespread reputation for inherent laziness.
Industrially, the Ottoman Empire had back of it a great past. The fine and dainty fabrics of Mosul; the famous mosque lamps, wonder-art of the glass-workers of Mesopotamia; the master workmanship of the coppersmiths of Diarbekr; the tiles of Erzerum; the steel work and the enamels of Damascus—all of these had been far-famed articles of world commerce for centuries. But Turkey in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries was, industrially as well as politically, a “backward nation.” Her manufactures were conducted under the time-honored handicraft system, which long since had been discarded by her European neighbors. In other words, Turkey had not experienced the Industrial Revolution which was the modern foundation of Western society and civilization. But Turkey was victimized by the Industrial Revolution. Her manufactures—with the exception of some luxuries of incomparable craftsmanship—produced by outworn methods, found it increasingly difficult to compete even in the markets of the Ottoman Empire with the cheaper machine-made goods of Europe. The pitiless competition of the industrialized West eliminated the cottage spinner and weaver, the town tailor and cobbler. And yet for Turkey to adopt European methods—to introduce the machine, the factory, and the factory town—was for a time impracticable. There was no mobile fund of capital for the purpose, and even Young Turks were not in a position to furnish the necessary technical skill. As for foreign capital and foreign directing genius, they could be obtained only under promises and guarantees which might still further jeopardize the independence of the Ottoman Empire.[5]