But Sultan Abdul Hamid was no less interested than foreign bondholders in the extension of railway construction in his empire. Railways could be utilized, he believed, to serve his dynastic and imperial ambitions. Effective transportation was essential to the solution of at least three vexatious political problems: first, the problem of exercising real, as well as nominal, authority over rebellious and indifferent subjects in Syria, Mesopotamia, Kurdistan, Arabia, and other outlying provinces; second, the problem of compelling these provinces, by military force if necessary, to contribute their share of blood and treasure to the defence of the empire;[20] third, the problem of perfecting a plan of mobilization for war, on whatever front it might be necessary to conduct hostilities. The maintenance of order, the enforcement of universal military service, the collection of taxes in all provinces of the empire, and defence against foreign invasion—all of these policies would be seriously handicapped, if not paralyzed, by the absence of adequate railway communications.
For strategic reasons, if for no other, Abdul Hamid would have especially favored the Bagdad Railway. For strategic reasons, also, he supplemented the Bagdad system with the famous Hedjaz Railway—from Damascus to the holy cities of Medina and Mecca—one of the achievements of which the wily old Sultan was most proud.[21] The completion of these two railways would have extended Turkish military power from the Black Sea to the Persian Gulf, from the Bosporus to the Persian Gulf. General von der Goltz epitomized their military importance in the following terms: “The great distance dividing the southern provinces from the rest of the empire was not the only difficulty in holding them in control; it made Turkey unable to concentrate her strength in case of great danger in the north. It must not be forgotten that the Osmanlie Empire in all former wars on the Danube and in the Balkans has only been able to utilize half her forces. Not only did the far-off provinces not contribute men, but, on the contrary, they necessitated strong reënforcements to prevent the danger of their being tempted into rebellion. This will be quite changed when the railroads to the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea are completed. The empire will then be rejuvenated and have renewed strength.”[22] The General might have added that the new railways might conceivably be utilized for the transportation to the Sinai Peninsula of an army intended to threaten the Suez Canal and Egypt.[23]
The Ottoman Government made it plain from the very start that the Bagdad Railway, in particular, was intended to serve military, as well as purely economic, purposes. The concession of 1903 contained a number of explicit provisions regarding official commandeering of the lines for the objects of suppressing rebellion, conducting military maneuvers, or mobilizing in the event of war. Furthermore, the Ottoman military authorities insisted that strategic considerations be taken into account when the railway was constructed. For example, the sections of the Bagdad line from Adana to Aleppo were carried through the Amanus Mountains, in spite of formidable engineering difficulties and enormous expense, although the railway could have been carried along the Mediterranean coast with greater ease and economy. The latter course, however, would have exposed to the guns of a hostile fleet the jugular vein of Turkish rail communications. From an economic point of view the Amanus tunnels were the most expensive and most unremunerative part of the Bagdad Railway; strategically, they were indispensable. This point was emphasized in 1908, when the Ottoman General Staff refused to consider a proposal to divert the line from the mountain passes to the shore.[24]
One of the most frequent criticisms of Turkish railway enterprises in general, and of the Bagdad Railway in particular, is that they were military as well as economic in character. Such criticisms, however, must be discounted, for potentially every railway is of military value. And in the European countries few railways were constructed without frank consideration of their adaptability to military purposes in time of war. Railways, in fact, were one of the most important branches of Europe’s “preparedness” for war. Which European nation, therefore, was in a position to cast a stone at Turkey for adopting this lesson from the civilized Occident? If the Ottoman Empire had a right to prepare for defence against invasion, it had the right to make that defence effective—at least until such time as its neighbors, Russia and Austria, should abandon military measures of potential menace to Turkey.
Germans and Turkish Nationalists contended that there was a certain amount of cant in the righteous indignation of the Powers that Turkey should become militaristic. Was Russia, they said, as much interested in the welfare of Turkey as she was angered at the active measures of the Sultan to prevent a Russian drive at Constantinople via the southern shore of the Black Sea? Was France as much concerned with the safety of Turkey as she was solicitous of the imperial interests of her ally? Was Great Britain engaged in preserving the peace of the Near East, or was she fearful of a stiffened Turkish defence of Mesopotamia or of a Turkish thrust at Egypt?[25] For the Sultan to have admitted that foreign powers had the right to dictate what measures he might or might not take for the defence of his territories would have been equivalent to a surrender of the last vestige of his sovereignty. Obviously this was an admission he could not afford to make.
Whatever else Abdul Hamid may have been, he was no fool. To assume that this shrewd and unscrupulous autocrat walked into a German trap when he granted the Bagdad Railway concession is naïve and absurd. Abdul Hamid was not in the habit of giving things away, if he could avoid it, without adequate compensation for himself and his empire. As Lord Curzon said, there was no axiom dearer to the Sultan’s heart than that charity not only begins, but stays, at home.[26] Abdul Hamid knew that the granting of railway subsidies would mortgage his empire. He knew that mortgages have their disadvantages, not the least of which is foreclosure. But mortgages also have their advantages. Abdul Hamid granted extensive railway concessions, carrying with them heavy subsidies, because he hoped the new railways would strengthen his authority within the Ottoman Empire and improve the political position of Turkey in the Near East.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL AND EXPLANATORY NOTES
[1] Count L. Ostrorog, The Turkish Problem (Paris, 1915, English translation, London, 1919), Chapter II; Leon Dominian, The Frontiers of Language and Nationality in Europe (London, 1917); V. Bérard, Le Sultan, l’Islam, et les puissances (Paris, 1907), pp. 15 et seq.; E. Fazy, Les Turcs d’aujourd’hui (Paris, 1898); A. Vamberry, Das Türkenvolk (Leipzig, 1885); A. Geiger, Judaism and Islam (London, 1899). Regarding Arab nationalism, in particular, cf. N. Azoury, Le réveil de la nation arabe (Paris, 1905); E. Jung, Les puissances devant la révolte arabe (Paris, 1906). A fascinating tale of the Arab separatist movement during the Great War is that of L. Thomas, “Lawrence: the Soul of the Arabian Revolution,” in Asia (New York), April, May, June, 1920. Cf., also, H. S. Philby, The Heart of Arabia (2 volumes, New York, 1923).
[2] There is a wealth of material upon the problems of the Ottoman Empire during the reign of Abdul Hamid. In particular, consult the following: A. Vamberry, La Turquie d’aujourd’hui et d’avant quarante ans (Paris, 1898); C. Hecquard, La Turquie sous Abdul Hamid (Paris, 1901); G. Dory, Abdul Hamid Intime (Paris, 1901); Sir Edwin Pears, The Life of Abdul Hamid (London, 1917); W. Miller, The Ottoman Empire, 1801–1913 (Cambridge, 1913), Chapters XVI-XVIII; N. Verney and G. Dambmann, Les puissances étrangères dans le Levant, en Syrie, et en Palestine (Paris, 1900); Baron von Oppenheim, Von Mittelmeer zum persischen Golfe (2 volumes, Berlin, 1899–1900); Lavisse and Rambaud, Histoire Générale (12 volumes, 1894–1901), Volume XI, Chapter XV; Volume XII, Chapter XIV; R. Davey, The Sultan and His Subjects (London, 1897); V. Cardashian, The Ottoman Empire of the Twentieth Century (Albany, N. Y., 1908).