The Koran forbids the followers of the prophet to charge interest upon loans of money, hence Mohammedans cannot engage in the banking business, and you often hear that true believers never swindle each other; that no Mohammedan ever lies, except where the interests of Christians are involved; that he will tell the truth to his own people.
It is evident that the Turks consider it no crime to cheat a Christian or to tell him a falsehood, and it is a beautiful delusion that Mohammedans never deceive or swindle one another. I have tried to reconcile this generally accepted fable with the notorious robbery of the government. Almost every official of the Ottoman Empire is a Mohammedan. Very few Christians are employed in any capacity, and in no other land on earth is official corruption, bribery and embezzlement so general and common. It is not only known, but tolerated. Few officials receive salaries, and they are expected to make a living by robbing their government and by blackmailing people who have business with it. While there is nothing in precise terms in the Koran to prohibit malfeasance in office, one would suppose that the general laws of morality and honesty, if not patriotism, would be recognized and applied. When I asked an intelligent and liberal Mohammedan to explain this phenomenon he did so without the slightest hesitation. He declared in the first place that the government knew that its officials were robbing the revenues and expected them to do so. Therefore, it was no crime against the laws and no violation of the teachings of the prophet. In the second place, he said, there were bad men among the followers of the prophet as well as among the followers of Christ, and that, “while no man who obeyed the teachings of the Koran and the injunctions of Mohammed would cheat or steal, many sometimes did so under great temptation.”
We are also told that Mohammedans are strict prohibitionists; that they drink no wine or liquor of any kind, and this is more generally true than any of the other statements to which I have referred.
There are plenty of saloons in Constantinople, but they are all found in the foreign quarter. In Stamboul, which is almost exclusively Mohammedan, there are none, and the natives dissipate at coffee-houses, which are as numerous in the Mohammedan districts as saloons in Chicago. The highest joy that a Turk can realize is to sit outside a café, sip a cup of coffee, smoke a nargileh—one of those long-stemmed water pipes—and contemplate the infinite. At least, I suppose that is what the solemn-looking old chaps who sit around on the sidewalk are contemplating. Their faces wear an expression of unutterable wisdom, solemnity and benevolence that cannot be surpassed, and their composure is perfect. A Turk is always composed at a coffee-house, and you would think that his soul was submerged in benevolence. But when he comes to action he is an entirely different sort of a person.
As a rule Turks of the upper classes are very good-looking. Their features are fine, their heads are intellectual and their expressions are amiable. In addition to the coffee-houses water fountains for the benefit of the poor are found on almost every block. When a rich man wants to erect a monument by which he may be remembered, he builds a fountain in a public place and leaves money for its maintenance. When Kaiser William of Germany was in Constantinople a few years ago he ordered the erection of a fountain, which is beautiful in design and of expensive construction. It must have cost him a very large sum of money, and was an appropriate, useful and noble gift. Thousands of men make a business of peddling water, lemonade and sherbet through the streets of the Turkish part of the city, and another praiseworthy custom among benevolent men is to leave legacies to pay for the free distribution of drinking water among the working people. You see many such peddlers on the docks, in the factories and at other places where laborers are employed. They go about with pigskins full of fresh water upon their backs and a dozen cups hanging from hooks in their belts. Anybody can stop them on the street and ask for a drink, which they always furnish with great courtesy, as they are required to do by their employers. If you give them a tip they will accept it, but it is not necessary and it is not expected. The Turks are a very temperate people.
A Turkish gentleman declared that the young men of Constantinople were being led into dissipation because they thought it was “progress”; that fast foreigners had introduced bad habits into the country, including whisky and brandy drinking, and many young Turks had followed their example. The saloons and beer gardens, he said, were intended for, and were generally patronized by, the foreign population—the French, Germans, Italians, Austrians, Hungarians and others—and several liquor stores had been established to supply them.
“Many young Moslems have become intemperate,” he exclaimed, “and it can only be attributed to the bad example of Christians.” The pashas and other public men think it is necessary to serve wine at their houses because it is served to them when they visit the homes of foreigners, and thus the habit is being introduced. The Sultan drinks nothing but water and coffee, although at formal dinners he offers wine to his guests.
“I met a friend the other day,” continued my informant, “who offered me a glass of wine. I declined, saying that my religion forbade the use of wine. ‘So does mine,’ replied the pasha, ‘but God is merciful and I shall be forgiven.’”
One great trouble in Turkey is the disloyalty of the upper classes. The lower classes are fanatical in their devotion to the Sultan and the Mohammedan Church. But it is the office and not the man they adore. They care very little who occupies the throne and will give their lives cheerfully to support and defend him. The Turkish soldiers are great fighters, if well led, and are absolutely destitute of fear because they are taught from infancy that he who dies in defense of the church or the Sultan goes straight to paradise, which is sufficient incentive for them. At the same time the words “loyalty” and “patriotism” do not appear in the Turkish language, and those emotions are almost entirely unknown to the pashas and other persons of high rank who are always striving to excel each other and secure the favor of the sovereign, and the power, influence and wealth that attend it. The foundation of all the trouble is the absolute authority intrusted to the Sultan, who is able to appoint to the highest offices and elevate to the highest rank the most unworthy and incompetent favorite at his court. The Sultan can make and unmake pashas at pleasure, and this precarious tenure of rank and dignity induces them to be so corrupt, so treacherous and envious. Another great source of weakness is the entire absence of anything like justice. If a man is accused before the Sultan by one of his spies or by any informer, high or low, he has no trial and often there is no investigation. In very rare cases the accused has an opportunity to make a personal defense; but in the Sultan’s eyes every man is guilty until he is proved innocent, and the opportunity to submit the proof seldom comes.
A Constantinople photographer to whom I applied for portraits of the Sultan and other public men explained that he was not able to furnish them because the Moslem religion forbade its adherents to make the likeness of anything in the heaven above or in the earth beneath, and that the injunction was strictly observed by old-fashioned and conservative Mohammedans. Being the head of the church, the Sultan thinks he ought to observe it as an example to others. Nevertheless the portraits of his sons have been painted, and you can buy their photographs wherever such things are sold about town. And there are oil portraits of previous Sultans in all the public buildings. On the table in the audience chamber at the Seraglio, is a large quarto volume containing a collection of the portraits of thirty-seven Sultans of the Osman dynasty. In the treasury are a lot of miniatures and several busts in bronze and marble. Statues of several Turkish heroes, including Sultans, have been erected, and hence we must find some other reason why Abdul Hamid will not be photographed. Perhaps it is merely an idiosyncrasy, for he has many.