In late years, that is up to the Armistice, the Government had given special attention principally to two institutions: the Naval Academy and the Medical Academy. The signing of the Armistice with the consequent dismantling of the Turkish navy brought, of course, a great setback to the Naval Academy which is now fighting for its life against tremendous odds. Naturally the navy of Turkey being reduced to practically nothing very few families desire to send their children to the Academy. In addition the foreigners who control Constantinople do not look with a very favourable eye upon the maintenance of this Academy for fear of its keeping alive a militaristic spirit. They do their utmost to encourage its closing. This is the more regrettable that in the last fifteen years the Academy had been reorganized so thoroughly that it was in all points comparable to any of the best high-grade educational institutions of the world. As its manager told me once, the purpose of the Academy was to form real men so that the cadets who had graduated would be in a position to enter into any branch of modern activity in case they decided, after their graduation, to quit the navy. The best proof that the Academy has most efficiently lived up to this principle is that after the Armistice and when the fleet was dismantled all the naval officers who were obliged to leave the navy succeeded in making a living, and many of them have been most successful in their new activities as business men. It would be a shame if an institution which had so markedly succeeded in forming a generation of real men was obliged to close its doors. An institution for forming generations of real men should not be allowed to die just because of the dismantlement of the fleet.
The Medical Academy is another institution which has done a most efficient work of civilization in Modern Turkey. It can be said that the Turkish “intelligentsia” consists mostly of doctors and medical students. The generation of Turkish physicians which the Medical Academy has formed has taken a lead among European medical circles and many are the Turkish doctors whose knowledge, activities and discoveries in medical science have earned them professorships in France and Germany. The Medical Academy, which is situated in a large modern building near the station of Haidar Pasha, the headline of the Bagdad Railroad, is completely equipped with all the requirements of modern science. It also maintains special courses for nurses, which are now very popular among Turkish women.
It would be tedious to talk at length of all the industrial schools that have been organized in the past ten or fifteen years in Turkey. Suffice it to say that quite a number of them are in existence. But a special mention should be made of the two universities of Constantinople as they are up to date in every respect. One of these universities is exclusively for women, the other is open to both sexes, and any one who has seen a mixed course where young Turkish women, in their becoming tcharshaf, sit on the same benches and study side by side with men students can only wonder how the legend of the seclusion of Turkish women can still receive credence in foreign countries.
In concluding His rapid outline of Turkish schools and the Turkish educational system, my father mentioned the different art schools which are now prospering in Turkey as well as the medressés or theological schools where the Muslim religion is taught. I could see that our American friends were especially interested in these two subjects and as we were leaving my father's house I was not surprised to have my impression confirmed. They wanted to know more about Turkish art and they wanted to learn something about the Muslim religion. Of course I cannot say that this surprised me.
Whenever the word “art” is pronounced in connection with Turkey, it awakens in the mind of the westerners, especially the Americans, only carpets, embroideries and laces, and dark-skinned, thick-eyebrowed Armenian merchants trying to sell at exorbitant prices these dainty art works of the Orient—purchased by them for a song generally from some poor women who have used their eyes, their health and their time for the ultimate purpose of bringing some soothing touch of colour into the modern homes of Europe and America, and many many dollars, pound sterlings, or napoleons, as the case may be, into the bank accounts of the dark-skinned, thick-eyebrowed merchants. Even to an American or a westerner who has been in Turkey as a tourist the word “Turkish art” does not convey much more. In addition to carpets, embroideries and laces he may visualize some musty copper brazero, some delicate handwritings with painted arabesques of flowers, some richly painted porcelains or embossed leather bindings. All things which spell old age. In modern art he would only visualize some Oriental jewels—made in Germany! Few are the foreigners who think of Turkish art in the light of regular paintings, architecture or music and when they hear of art schools their curiosity is excited.
As far as the Muslim religion is concerned westerners are, as a rule, even more ignorant on this subject than on that of art. They think of the Muslims as unbelievers, as pagans who deny God and the Christ, as fatalists who calmly await the fulfilment of the prophecies without having enough sense to get out of the rain even when it pours. The only activities they give the Muslims credit for are massacres and atrocities. They believe that theirs alone is a religion of love and mercy while that of the Muslim is one of fire and blood. I remember that an American from Pittsburg, upon hearing that I was a Muslim, asked me what god I adored, and absolutely refused to believe that I adored the One Almighty God. He had heard that we prayed to Allah. Say what I would I could not at first explain to him that “Allah” in Arabic means God in English, and he was only half convinced when I told him that at that rate the French were also unbelievers as they prayed to “Dieu.”
But the request of our American friends was not one that could be immediately satisfied as I had to make the necessary arrangements to visit the art schools and medressés and I had to await an opportunity to put them in contact with people who could tell them more of Turkish art and of the Muslim religion than I could. It was therefore only a few days later that I could arrange to take them to the Academy of Art of Constantinople, the principal school of its kind in the Near East, where no other city—not even Athens, which is still considered as the cradle of art—can boast of as complete and progressive an art academy.
The academy is located in the Park of the Old Seraglio, right next to the Imperial Museum. They are both under the same management, and as we arrived on the large plaza, shaded by old trees, we were received by the secretary of the manager, a cousin of mine, whom I had asked to show us through the place so as to give all available information to our friends.
He took us through the building where different classes for drawing, painting and modelling were being held in different rooms. The class-rooms are large, all whitewashed and lighted by skylights and big windows. The whole place is kept immaculately clean. The students are quite numerous and our American friends were surprised to see that there were as many Turkish girls studying art as men. “We always thought of Turkish women as hot-house flowers,” they said, “and we were very much surprised to see when we arrived here how many of them take an active part in business and in the every-day life of the community. We imagined that those who were thus active were doing it out of necessity because they had to earn a living. We could not conceive that Turkish women would work of their own choice, and especially would spend time in studying art which, after all, is a luxury.”
Kadry Bey, the secretary of the manager, smiled and said: “Woman is the materialization of art: is it surprising that, now that Turkish women have acquired their entire emancipation, they should desire to study a science the knowledge of which gives a better appreciation of their own attribute, beauty? As soon as these classes were opened to Turkish women only a few years ago, they flocked in great number to take full advantage of the opportunity and you can judge for yourself how hard they are working. Some of them have already acquired a certain renown, and one of them, a former pupil of this academy, Moukbile Hanoum, has just written us from Switzerland where she is visiting, that one of her pictures had been awarded a medal at an international exhibition in Berne.”