The life of Midhat Pasha 25
“(Signed) MIDHAT.
“8 _Moharem_ 1294, _Hegira_.”
(24_th January_ 1877).
Worn out by these tactics, Midhat determined to bring the matter to
an issue, and make it what would be called a Cabinet question, and
addressed to the Sultan the following letter:—
“SIRE,—The object of promulgating the Constitution was to abolish
Absolutism, to indicate Your Majesty’s rights and duties, to define
and establish those of Ministers; in a word, to secure to the nation
complete and entire liberty, and thus by a common effort to raise the
condition and position of the country.
“Contrary to what had occurred in the case of former _Hatti Humayuns_
promulgated thirty years back, the new charter was to subsist and
receive its full application after the present political crisis
should be at an end; for our object in promulgating that Constitution
was certainly not merely to find a solution of the so‐called Eastern
Question, nor to seek thereby to make a demonstration that should
conciliate the sympathies of Europe which had been estranged from us.
“Allow me, Sire, to offer a few observations on this subject. In the
first place, Your Majesty, who is responsible before the nation for
your acts, is bound to be acquainted with your duties as well as
with your rights and prerogatives. It is, moreover, indispensable
that Ministers should have the certain conviction of being able to
accomplish their tasks, and that we should be able to free ourselves
from that habit of servile flattery which has debased our people and
ruined the country during the last four centuries.
“I am animated by a profound respect for the person of Your Majesty.
But basing my conduct on the ordinances of the Cheri (sacred law),
I am bound to withhold obedience to the commands of Your Majesty
whenever they are not in conformity with the interests of the nation;
otherwise the weight of my responsibility would be too heavy for me
to bear. The dictates of my conscience that command me to conform
my acts to the salvation and prosperity of my country impose an
imperative obligation on me; and the judgment of my country, which is
what I respect and cherish most, forbids me to act otherwise.
“I desire earnestly that no shadow of a suspicion should cross the
mind of Your Majesty, and I dread, as I have already said, to find
later on that I have sinned against my own conscience and deserved
the malediction of my countrymen. It is this very apprehension that
forces me to submit those considerations to Your Majesty. It is
indispensable, Sire, that the Ottoman nation should have the power
to reform and administer their country, according to the law. It is
unnecessary for me to point out or explain to Your Majesty all that
is contained in this phrase. I humbly pray and beseech Your Majesty
to have confidence in me and my colleagues in the accomplishment of
our difficult task, in which patriotism and love of our country are
our only motives and inspiration.
“I trust that I have not as yet committed any act compromising the
responsibility that I feel, and I desire that the nation should be
imbued with the sense of our responsibility towards it, otherwise no
satisfactory result can ever be attained.
“It is now nine days, Sire, since you have abstained from giving a
favourable answer to my petition. You thereby refuse to sanction laws
indispensable to the welfare of the country, and without which our
whole previous work will be rendered futile. Whilst Your Majesty’s
Ministers are engaged in endeavouring to restore the governmental
edifice which has with so much difficulty escaped total ruin, surely
Your Majesty would not willingly add to the work of destruction.
“If Your Majesty should in consequence of the above named opinions
consider it your duty to relieve me of my functions as Grand Vizier,
I would pray Your Majesty to confide them into such strong hands as
shall be able to reconcile the principles and ideas of Your Majesty
with the necessities of the country and the gravity of the situation
in which the Empire finds itself placed to‐day.—I am, Sire, Your
Majesty’s humble servant,
“MIDHAT.
“18_th January_ 1293, _O.S._”
(30_th January_ 1877.)
For three days he abstained from going to the Palace.
The Sultan, who was now prepared for extremities, sent Safvet Pasha
to him to inform him that all he demanded would be granted and to
request him to come to the Palace. Safvet Pasha, Minister for Foreign
Affairs, and one of the Turkish delegates at the Conference, was not
what would be called a strong Minister. He was prone to conciliation
and compromise rather than energetic measures and resolutions; but he
was essentially an honest man: duplicity and treachery were absolutely
foreign to his nature. If on this occasion he was intended as an
instrument of duplicity, it was practised at his own expense, and
he was merely an unconscious tool. Midhat, however, demurred to the
invitation, and required the necessary Irades to be issued on the
matters pending with the Palace, before he resumed his functions as
Grand Vizier. Thereupon the Sultan sent his first aide‐de‐camp, Saïd
(Ingless) Pasha, to him, to assure him that the Irades were ready, if
he would, on the Sultan’s order, accompany him to the Palace. Midhat
went. He perceived on his way an unwonted display of troops in the
district of Tavshan Tashi, where his Konak was situated, but he was not
aware then, on the night of the 4th‐5th February, that the Imperial
Yacht _Izzeddine_ was moored close to the marble steps leading up to
the terrace of the Palace of Dolma‐Bagtche. If he had perceived it and
guessed its purpose, it was too late to retreat, or to escape the snare
laid for him. On his arrival at the Palace he was shown into a small
ante‐chamber and told to await the Sultan’s orders.
The first aide‐de‐camp soon returned with the Sultan’s order to deliver
up his seal of office, and to accompany him.
He then conducted him on board the _Izzeddine_, which, with steam
already up, immediately weighed anchor and steamed off in the
direction of the Sea of Marmora with Midhat on board. The Captain of
the _Izzeddine_ had sealed orders, which he was only to open in the
Sea of Marmora. These orders were, that he should wait for twenty‐four
hours in the Bay of Tchekmedje, and if he received no telegram within
that space of time, he was to conduct Midhat to any European port on
the Mediterranean that the ex‐Grand Vizier might select. No despatch
arriving, he proceeded on his course to Brindisi, where he landed
Midhat.
That the forcible banishment of the Grand Vizier was a violation of
the letter as well as the spirit of the Constitution promulgated and
sworn to by the Sultan, has never been seriously denied. The “reason
of State” urged would obviously cover any act of arbitrary power
whatever. It was for the express purpose of putting an end to such an
arbitrary _régime_ that the Constitution was framed and insisted on.
The flimsy pretext put forward, that it was in accordance with the
113th Article of the Constitution, will not bear the most superficial
examination. The power therein conceded to the Sultan was in a rider
to a clause declaring a state of siege when the safety of the State
required it, and the purport and limits of the clause must necessarily
govern the subsidiary provisions of the clause itself. Not only could
a rider of this description not bear the interpretation sought to be
placed upon it, but other substantial clauses of the Constitution
directly forbade the exercise of any such arbitrary power, and provided
for the elementary right that no man should be punished except after
due trial. But further: clauses 31, 32, and 34 contained special and
minute provisions for the arrest and trial of Ministers guilty of
treason or malversation, so that both positively and negatively, in its
substantial provisions and in its omissions, the banishment of Midhat,
with its attendant circumstances, was as clear a violation of the
Constitution as the _coup d’état_ of the 2nd December 1852 in France.
But political morality and good faith and patriotism apart, it must be
allowed that the tactics pursued by the Palace were, _qua_ tactics,
very cleverly devised. If the Sultan had struck at the Constitution as
well as the champion of it; at reform at the same time as the reformer,
he would undoubtedly have raised a storm in the country which would
have immediately endangered his throne; but by striking down the father
and pillar of the Reformers he practically killed reform, and put the
Constitution at his mercy as certainly as if he had suppressed it
then and there; and whilst pretending himself to champion both reform
and the Constitution, he managed to play the _rôle_ of Wat Tyler
successfully, and to take the sting out of the blow, and conceal the
full meaning of the act that he had just committed. There was a party
in Constantinople, to which personal ambition was not a stranger,
who imagined that Midhat was not essential to the cause of the
Constitution, and that Abdul Hamid II. was sincere in his protestations
of reforming ardour. Some were of good faith, and some were simply
moved by ambition. Both very soon discovered their mistake, and in
various distant provinces found leisure to reflect and repent of their
confiding innocence.
The Palace, although they had hazarded this great _coup_, did not feel
at all secure as to the effect it might produce on the population of
Constantinople, in spite of all the measures of precaution that had
been taken; and the order given to the captain of the _Izzeddine_ to
remain twenty‐four hours at anchor in the bay of Tchekmedje, was with a
view, in case of a serious rising in the capital, of recalling Midhat
and persuading him to resume his functions—until a more convenient
opportunity arose. The Palace was playing for safety.
Stunned by the suddenness of the blow, entirely unprepared for any
concerted action, and distracted by reports industriously spread, the
people did not rise, and the Palace breathed freely. It had gained a
complete victory.
* * * * *
Between the breaking up of the Conference and the breaking out of the
war, the sequence of diplomatic action can be very briefly narrated.
On the 19th January 1877 Prince Gortchakoff issued a Circular to the
Powers, which can be summed up in the question, “What are you going to
do about it?” One particular phrase, however, in this document must be
noted. He says that the agreement in the Berlin Memorandum not being
unanimous, and the crisis being aggravated, among other causes, by the
revolution in Constantinople, the Cabinets recommenced negotiations,
and, on the initiative of England, agreed upon a basis and guarantees
to be discussed at a Conference at Constantinople. There is very little
doubt that this revolution in Constantinople—which had the avowed
object of checking absolutism and giving the Turkish people guarantees
for good government—was in the eyes of Russia an aggravation of the
crisis, and justified, and even necessitated, in her opinion, hostile
action against Turkey. That Russia, who had undertaken the championship
of liberty and progress among the inhabitants of a neighbouring empire,
should be confronted by the establishment of institutions far more
liberal and advanced than anything her own people were allowed to dream
of; and that there should be sitting at Constantinople a Parliament,
the very name of which was a terror and nightmare at St Petersburg, was
without question an intolerable grievance.
_À propos_ of this, the famous despatch of Count Pozzo di Borgo, of
November 1828, to M. de Nesselrode, may be read with profit:
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