If the ingenuity of man, working through long centuries of misrule, had set itself to the task of developing a form of government the most potent for evil and the least powerful for good, the system could not have been worse than that which exists in European Turkey; and the worst of it is that no one but the most hopeful optimist can perceive in it the slightest hope of reform or practical amendment. In theory the Sultan is the recognized organ of all executive power in the State. The dignity is hereditary in the house of Osman; but the brother of a deceased or deposed Sultan takes precedence of the son, as being nearer in blood to the great founder of the house. A Sultan, therefore, must see in his brother a possible rival, who must, in case his life is spared, be kept immured in the seclusion of the harem. A Sultan who succeeds his brother naturally comes to the throne at a somewhat mature age, but as ignorant as a babe of all that belongs to the duties of government; lucky it is if he is not also physically and mentally worn out by debauchery and excess. Turkish history is full of instances where one of the first acts of a Sultan has been to order the execution of his brothers and nephews. Thus Mahmoud II. put to death his infant nephew, the son of his predecessor, and caused three pregnant inmates of the harem to be flung into the Bosporus in order to make sure the destruction of their unborn offspring. The actual task of government is in some sort divided between the Sultan and the "Porte," a term which is used to designate the chief dignitaries of the State. The "Sublime Porte" is the Council of the Grand Vizier, who presides over the Council of State, consisting of the ministers for home affairs, for foreign affairs, and for executive acts, with several secretaries, one of whom is supposed to be answerable that the acts of the ministry are in conformity with, the supreme law of the Koran. The Porte of the Defterdar, or Minister of Finance, whose council is styled the "Divan," consists of several ministers and other functionaries. The "Agha" formerly comprised many civil and military officials whose duties were in some way immediately connected with the person of the Sultan, not very unlike what we call a "kitchen cabinet." The foregoing are all designated as "Dignitaries of the Pen." The "Dignitaries of the Sword" are the viceregal and provincial governors, styled pachas and beys. They are at once civil and military commanders; and, most important of all, tax-gatherers, and not infrequently farmers as well as receivers of taxes. If they forward to the Porte the required sum of money, little care is had as to the manner in which their other duties are performed or neglected. The manifold extortions of the local pachas keep one part or another of the empire, not only in Europe, but in Asia, in a state of perpetual insurrection, of which little is ever heard abroad.
The Koran is the acknowledged source of all law, civil and ecclesiastical. Its interpreter is the Sheikh-ul-Islam, "the Chief of the Faithful," sometimes styled the "Grand Mufti." He is the head of the Ulemi, or "Wise Men," comprising the body of great jurists, theologians, and literati, any or all of whom he may summon to his council. He is appointed for life by the Sultan, and may be removed by him. His office is in theory, and sometimes in practice, one of great importance. To him and his council the Sultan is supposed to refer every act of importance. He does not declare war or conclude peace until the Grand Mufti has formally pronounced the act "conformable to the law." It is only in virtue of his fetwa, or decree, that the deposition of a Sultan is legalized. A fetwa from him would summon around the standard of the Prophet all the fanatical hordes of Islam to fight to the death against the infidels, in the firm belief that death on the battlefield is a sure passport to Paradise. With the Koran as the supreme law, and the Sheikh-ul-Islam its sole interpreter, nothing can be more futile than the provision of the new Constitution of December, 1876, that "the prerogatives of the Sultan are those of the constitutional sovereigns of the West."
It is necessary here to touch only briefly upon the rise and decline of the Turkish empire in Europe. The Osmanlis take their name from Osman, the leader of a Tartar horde driven out from the confines of the Chinese empire, who overran Asia Minor. His great-grandson, Amurath I., crossed into Europe, took Adrianople in 1361, and overran Bulgaria and Servia. Several of his successors pushed far into Hungary and Poland. Mohammed II. took Constantinople in 1453, and brought the Byzantine empire to a close. Selim I. (1512-'20) extended his dominion over Mesopotamia, Syria, and Egypt. Solyman II., "the Magnificent" (1520-1566), raised the Turkish power to its highest point. He took Buda in 1529; and in 1532 besieged Vienna with a force of 300,000 men, but was routed by the Polish John Sobieski, with a force hardly a tenth as great. But for another half century the Turkish power was sufficient to inspire terror in all Christendom. With the death of Solyman, the power of the Turks began to wane, slowly but surely, and at the close of the last century the expulsion of the Turks from Europe seemed close at hand. The great wars of the French Revolution gave them a new lease of possession, and at its close Sultan Mahmoud II., who was by blood half French,[I] endeavored to introduce reforms which some men hoped and others feared would restore the Ottoman Empire. But the result showed the impossibility of patching up rotten garments with new cloth. The Greek revolution broke out, and at its close the Sultan found himself no match for his vassal, Mehemet Ali, Pacha of Egypt, and it was only the intervention of Russia, Austria, and Great Britain which prevented the Pacha from establishing at Constantinople the seat of a new empire, which, be it what it might, would not have been Turkish. What were the reasons of Great Britain and France it is not now easy to say. Those of Russia are patent: she wanted Constantinople to remain in the hands of the Turks until she herself was in a position to seize it. From that time the Ottoman Empire became the "sick man of Europe," around whose bedside all the other powers were watching, each determined that none of the others should gain the greater share in his estates when he died. In 1844 they formally adopted him into the family of the nations of Europe, and promised that his safety should be the common care of all.
Russia, in the mean while, was busy in endeavoring to make herself the patron of the Christian subjects of the Sultan, and when the time appeared ripe, entered upon those overt acts which led to the Crimean war. Out of this war the Ottoman Empire came with considerable apparent advantage. The man supposed to be sick unto death showed that there was unexpected vitality—of a spasmodic sort indeed—in his Asiatic members; and again there were hopes and fears of his ultimate convalescence, if not of restoration to robust health. That those hopes and fears were baseless is now clear enough. Never was the sick man so feeble as within the last five years.
The existing crisis in the Eastern Question came about in the ordinary course of things. In the summer of 1875 the pecuniary needs of the Sublime Porte were more than usually urgent, and the tax-gatherers were even more than usually exacting. The normal result ensued: there were local risings in Bosnia and Herzegovina. A secret Bulgarian revolutionary committee, favored by Russia, has for years existed in Bucharest, the capital of Roumania. They sent emissaries into Bulgaria to excite an insurrection in that province. The plan was to set fire to Adrianople and Philippopolis, each in scores of places, to burn other towns, mainly inhabited by Mussulmans, and force all the Bulgarian Rayahs to join the uprising. The insurrection broke out prematurely in May, 1876, and only a few were actively engaged in it. Two or three thousand troops would have been sufficient to have quelled the rising; but there were none in the province, and despite the urgent appeals of the Pacha none were sent. The Mussulmans, who are in a fearful minority there, were thrown into a panic; and the Pacha gave orders for calling an ignorant and fanatical population to arms. Regular troops were at last sent. The Turks gained an easy victory, and perpetrated those ineffable atrocities, the recital of which sent a thrill of horror throughout Christendom. The Bulgarians fled northward toward Servia, pursued by the Turks, who it is said made predatory incursions. Prince Milan made some extraordinary demands upon the Sultan, among which were that the government of Bulgaria should be committed to him and that of Bosnia to Prince Nicholas of Herzegovina. The Grand Vizier refused to listen to these demands; whereupon the Prince called the Servians to arms, declared war against the Sultan, invaded Bulgaria, and soon assumed the title of King of Servia. His invasion of Bulgaria met with ill success. Although aided by many Russian soldiers and officers, absent on special leave from their regiments, the Servians were driven back over their frontiers; and the war was finally suspended by a truce for six months. We suppose that there can be no doubt that the rising in Bulgaria and the action of Servia were favored, if not by the Czar personally, yet by the Russian government, although it would, if possible, have withheld Prince Milan from declaring war when he did. The Servian Bishop Strossmayer expressly affirms that the insurrection in Herzegovina was prematurely commenced against the advice of Russia, and that Servia and Montenegro went to war of their own accord, though they have naturally accepted the Russian aid since accorded to them. He adds that Prince Gortschakoff, who in the Russian government is all that Prince Bismarck is in that of Germany, the year before last "informed Prince Milan that Russia was unprepared; that only within three years did she count on taking Constantinople; and that only then would she call on the Sclaves of the South to plant the Greek cross on the dome of St. Sophia."
Meanwhile, on the news of the Turkish atrocities in Bulgaria, the Czar put his troops in motion toward the Turkish frontier, and made demands upon the Sultan which, if acceded to, would have practically made the Czar the actual sovereign of all Turkey in Europe north of the Balkhan. Great Britain sent her fleet to the mouth of the Dardanelles to "maintain the interests of the British empire" in that part of the world. Diplomatic notes and rejoinders passed between the cabinets of the great Powers; and early in January an International Conference was assembled at Constantinople to endeavor to settle, or at least to stave off the present crisis in the Eastern Question; Great Britain, through her representative, the Earl of Salisbury, apparently taking the lead. As we write, in the early days of February, all that is definitely known is: The Conference has utterly failed; the Sultan absolutely refused to accede to the propositions made to him; and the ambassadors of the great Powers have been withdrawn from Constantinople. Surmises and rumors as to what will next be done are rife; not the least significant or the least probable being that the Emperors of Germany, Russia, and Austria are consulting as to taking the matter into their own hands. Whatever the immediate issue may be—whether a peace of some kind; a partial war between Russia on the one side, and Turkey, with or without Great Britain, on the other; or a general European war—of one thing we may be certain: it will not cause Russia to more than postpone still longer her long-cherished determination to have Constantinople.
Mr. Carlyle has suggested, as a final settlement of the Eastern Question, that Turkey in Europe should be divided between Russia, Austria, and Great Britain. But, as is his wont, he leaves out some essential factors in the problem. No part of this territory would be of the slightest use to Great Britain, except perhaps the island of Candia as a sort of half-way house in the highway to India by the Suez canal. She has everything to lose and little more than nothing to gain by any such partition, which, as it necessarily must, would give Constantinople to Russia. Mr. Carlyle has so thorough a dislike to France—and with him dislike is nearly equivalent to contempt—that he naturally leaves her out of the problem. But it is surprising that he leaves out his favorite Germany, perhaps the most important factor of all.
We can conceive of a partition of Turkey between Russia and Austria which would be so manifestly and equally advantageous to both that they might agree to it. And the line of division is clearly indicated by nature. Austria, like every other great civilized nation, desires to be a maritime power; but she touches the sea only at one point, the head of the Adriatic, with the narrow strip known as Dalmatia, running half way down its eastern coast. There are only two considerable ports, Trieste and Fiume. Eastward, and back of Dalmatia, are Servia, Bosnia, and Herzegovina; and below these, on the Adriatic, is the long coast-line of Albania, with several good harbors. Across the narrowing isthmus is the Archipelago, with the excellent harbor of Salonika. Now look on any tolerable map, and one will see on the eastern borders of Servia, where the Danube breaks through the Carpathians, a range of mountains shooting southward to and crossing the Balkhan, from which it is continued still southward to the Archipelago, the whole dividing European Turkey into two almost equal halves. Let Russia take the eastern half, comprising Roumania, Bulgaria, and the half of Roumelia, including Constantinople, the whole shore of the Sea of Marmora and the Dardanelles—all that she really needs or cares for. Let Austria take the other half, which would give her the whole eastern coast of the Adriatic, and a large frontage on the Archipelago, and so a double access to the Mediterranean and thence to the ocean. She would acquire thereby an access of valuable territory equal to almost half of her present dominions, which would render her relatively to Russia fully as strong as she now is.
But such a partition could not be carried into effect without the concurrence of Germany, for Germany is undoubtedly as a military power much stronger than Russia. Germany certainly would never assent unless she could somewhere get something equivalent to that gained by Austria and Russia, and not an inch of Turkey would be of any use to her. But in quite another part of Europe is a territory comparatively small in extent, which would be of priceless value to Germany. This is the little kingdom of Holland, which is indeed physically a part of Germany, and essential to the rounding off of the boundaries of the new empire. It would give her an extended sea-front, which is what she also needs in order to become a great naval and commercial power. It would give her also in the Zuyder Zee a naval depot and harbor of refuge inferior only to that of the Black Sea, and immeasurably superior to any other in Europe. Furthermore, with Holland would go the possession of Java and as many other great islands in the Indian Ocean as she might choose to seize and colonize. To Holland, indeed, we think such an annexation would be a decided gain. Her people are in race, language, and religion closely allied to the Germans. It would be better for her to become a State, inferior only to Prussia, of the great German empire, than a feeble kingdom, always at the mercy of her powerful neighbors. But whether it would be for her good or not, would not be likely to be much taken into account should the great Powers agree upon a reconstruction of the political map of Europe. The interests of France would suffer no material damage from this, provided she were left free to extend her Algerian possessions over the whole Mediterranean coast of Africa, now almost a desert, but once the granary of the Roman empire, and abundantly capable of being restored to its ancient fertility; or in case she should think her dignity required something more, she might receive in Belgium far more than a counterpoise for her recent loss of Alsace-Lorraine.
Suppose that in some not remote future the policy of Russia, Germany, and Austria shall happen to be directed by statesmen as able and unscrupulous as Gortschakoff, Bismarck, and Von Beust, we think such a settlement of the Eastern Question by no means an improbable one. And should these Powers agree to effect it, all the rest of Europe could do nothing to the contrary.