The Governor of Bulgaria—who now became for the second time the Grand Vizier of the empire—desired to make this cherished scheme general in all the provinces of the empire, and in the inaugural speech he had placed in the Sultan’s mouth words that signified the adoption of this measure and its inauguration in the empire, “in order that the progress of the country may produce the happiness of all its subjects alike; and in order to inculcate these ideas, We decree the foundation of these schools, in which instruction and education shall be common to all.”
Instead of this categorical declaration the Sultan substituted the colourless proposal: “We desire that all Our subjects, without distinction of classes, shall be able to profit by the benefits of knowledge, each according to his personal capacity,” which will bear the exact sense that anybody may choose to attribute to it.
We shall very shortly see what practical sense the Sultan himself attributed to it.
(6) Midhat desired to abolish the slave trade, which he considered a scandal and a disgrace to the empire, and incompatible with its pretensions to a high place in the ranks of civilised nations. He proposed, therefore, in this inaugural speech to proclaim its abolition, and that the Sultan should inaugurate the change by enfranchising all the slaves in the Palace. The Sultan cut out the whole paragraph.
With such a radical difference in the whole point of view from which the Palace clique and the new Grand Vizier regarded the situation, it was clear that occasions for serious conflict would not be wanting, nor would be long in manifesting themselves. They arose indeed at once, and it will be seen that each subject of contention was implicitly contained in the divergence of views manifested with reference to the speech from the throne that has just been analysed.
The question of the Constitution naturally occupied the foreground in these disputes. The Sultan, as has been seen, refused to submit its provisions to a Grand Council to be summoned ad hoc, lest it should receive, as it undoubtedly would have received, this important sanction. He preferred that Ministers should be its sole sponsors, which would leave him free to deny subsequently that its details had been stamped with the seal of national approval. From the very first days of his accession he had shown the greatest anxiety on this subject of the Constitution, and no wonder: it was what the Magna Charta was to John of England—the curb and limit of arbitrary power and exaction.
Knowing that Midhat was its chief champion, it was with him that he entered into negotiations on the subject, even before the actual resignation of Mehemet Rushdi Pasha. The following significant letter signed with his own name (instead of through the usual vehicle of the First Secretary’s signature) was the warning shot fired across the enemy’s bows:—
Letter addressed by the Sultan to Midhat Pasha on the eve of his Grand Vizierate.[12]
“To my illustrious Vizier, Midhat Pasha.
“We have made ourselves acquainted with the Constitution which you unofficially forwarded to us, and we have noticed in it passages incompatible with the habits and aptitudes of the nation. Our desire is to assure the future of the country by just administration, and we cannot but appreciate all efforts towards that end. And one of the objects to which we attach much importance is that of safeguarding the Sovereign rights by a new organisation drawn up with regard to the needs of the people. We desire therefore that the Constitution should be discussed by the Council of Ministers, and should be revised in the manner referred to above. Communicate our greetings to our Grand Vizier and show him this order. In any case we expect from your patriotism that your efforts shall tend towards the object we have in view, and demand that this Irade shall be kept secret between our Grand Vizier and yourself.
“Abdul Hamid