And make your eyes unfaithful to their tears.
Sarojini Naidu.
After the Constitution of 1918 had been proclaimed, “Freedom for Women” became one of the burning questions of the day. Here, Halidé Hanoum was almost immediately the acknowledged leader, and has ever since been urging her sisters, with noble eloquence, to take the position so long denied them in the life of the country. With her solid backing from Talaat and Djémal, Djavid and H. Djahid, she achieved wonders of awakening. In those old days I had myself contributed to some of the excellent women’s papers, which were brought out for the discussion of educational and social problems, among which I regret to have seen no more of that most promising sheet, the Kadinlar Dunyassi. At the request of the Department of Public Instruction, Halidé Hanoum drew up a programme of Education for Women and was herself appointed Chief Inspector of Schools.
By the letter of the law at least, Turkish women are in a much better position than women have yet secured among us—to the disgrace of Western liberty. They have always administered their own property, signed all documents relating to their own affairs, have the full privileges of a witness in the courts, and are allowed to plead their own cases—we have not.
They were, unfortunately, kept back socially during the retrograde régime of the ruthless Hamid; but their fine work on the battle-fields of the Balkan wars, side by side in the ranks with their men, and their able organisation of the Red Crescent Society, carried them forward a hundred years.
There has been a certain amount of agitation for the abolition of the veil, but the tradition withstands reform, though it is now no more than a sort of toque, or turban, such as we also frequently wear. However, Halidé Hanoum—most advanced of feminists—has never herself abandoned the veil, probably seeing in it a Nationalist, if not a religious, symbolic significance.
I wish I could reproduce at least some of the finest passages from some of her lectures. The noble spirit of her inspiration yet speaks, even to those unable to follow her words. No one can marvel that she set her hearers on fire to save “all that remained of the Turkish Empire—Anatolia.” As she has written, “It is the love of race which first made the Turks a mighty people. Whatever may come, rest assured our race cannot die. It hath immortal life. Though we stand alone against the world, our love of race will give us courage. Till we can once more stand proudly beside the nations, we will fear no obstacle and shrink from no self-sacrifice!”
She gave to Mustapha Kemal Pasha, before his full powers were proven to all, the words found on the stone of an old Turkish Padishah:
“God appointed me ruler, that the name and fame of the Turkish race might not be extinguished. I was not appointed to rule over a rich, but over a poor, people, scantily supplied with food and clothing. For the Turkish race I slept not at night, I rested not by day, I worked for my people till death.”
Her work in Syria, interrupted, alas! by the war, has established her remarkable powers of organisation; and though she denies that she was ever actually in the Cabinet, no one can doubt that she would make a splendid Minister of Education. The deputies themselves are so eager for her admission to the Assembly, that we may easily soon hear that the department has been placed in her able hands.