The life of Midhat Pasha 28

The life of Midhat Pasha 28

Public opinion in Turkey was thus entirely engrossed by the danger

with which the empire was threatened from outside, and was no longer

able to concentrate itself on the changes that were taking place in

the internal government. All minds were excited at the near approach

of Russia, and were unable to occupy themselves in the maintenance of

those rights which had been conferred by the new charter. The Sultan

was thus able to attain his object, and finding no longer any obstacle

to his will, he closed the Parliament and exiled the few deputies who

dared to raise their voice in protest.

 

The war declared by Russia was the necessary result of the policy

which Abdul Hamid had proposed to follow. Having exiled Midhat Pasha,

and closed Parliament without having executed a single reform, he was

equally obliged to crush every liberal tendency in order that he might

monopolise the supreme power, and spared no effort to rid himself of

every force that was capable of thwarting his designs. He now began

to get secret information as to the opinions of all the principal

Ministers and Generals, and took care at once to deprive of all power

those whom he feared might be dangerous to him. The contradictory

instructions that he gave to the Generals, the absurd military orders

that he issued from his Palace of Yildiz, were transmitted after

reports which attributed revolutionary designs to certain of his

Generals—designs which they were far from cherishing—had reached him.

 

It was in consequence of these suspicions on the part of the Sultan

that the Commander‐in‐Chief Abdul Kerim and the Marshal Suleiman Pasha

were brought before a Council of War and condemned, _not_ on account of

faults committed, but simply because one of these two chief officers

had participated in the deposition of the Sultan Abdul Aziz, and the

other was known to have liberal opinions.

 

The Sultan’s efforts were crowned by the Treaty of San Stefano. The

Circular of Prince Gortchakoff, which had appeared in the Official

Journal of St Petersburg on the 9th April 1877, showed that what Russia

had wished to obtain from Turkey by the Conference of Constantinople,

differed but very little from the conditions which she imposed on the

Porte in the Treaty of San Stefano, a fact to which Lord Salisbury

rendered due justice in his despatch of 1st April.

 

Although the Cabinet of Great Britain had firmly stated its intentions

of not entering into the quarrel, the general interests of Europe

and the special interests of England were so deeply involved in the

dispute, that it was impossible for that Power not to be obliged

sooner or later to take some share in the proceedings. The intervention

of England, although unhappily it came rather late in the day, led to

the Congress of Berlin, which blotted out the Treaty of San Stefano.

 

As Midhat Pasha, however, played no part in the Russo‐Turkish War, nor

in the events that followed, we will pass over them, and relate the

vicissitudes of his journey in Europe, including the interviews which

he had with the heads of States and celebrated politicians.

 

Midhat arrived at Brindisi, 11th February, 1877, and after a few days’

rest left for Naples, where he had at first wished to live, withdrawn

from the world and its capitals. The following statement, which we

reprint from the _Neue Freie Presse_ of Vienna, was made by him on the

future of the Constitution:—

 

 

“It is not despotism which, by my banishment, has reacted against the

constitutional _régime_. That is not at all the case. Montesquieu has

taught us that the creation of a constitution is very difficult and

takes much time. A sovereign prince, accustomed to absolute power,

can only be persuaded little by little to abandon his prerogatives,

that being necessary to the constitutional _régime_. It is a

difficult task, frequently interrupted by contrary currents, but for

all that one need never despair of reaching the goal, for with time,

patience and perseverance success is attainable. It is not in the

person of the Sultan, nor yet through his present Ministers, that I

see danger for the Constitution, but rather in the want of character

and of courage so often to be found in those who are the Sovereign’s

Councillors, and who, instead of acting according to their

convictions, seek their own advantage in hiding the truth. I have

never hesitated about giving my opinion to the Sultan, whoever he

might be, whenever it happened to differ from his; I have always done

so with the greatest respect, but also without the least reticence.

Many a misfortune might have been avoided in this world of ours if

there had not been a great lack of men, capable of placing the whole

truth before their Sovereign.

 

“The danger to the Constitution lies, not in the lack of goodwill,

but in the ignorance as to how to manage the mechanism. The

Governmental form of despotism reminds me somewhat of a primitive

mill, which may be turned by the force of water, or may equally

be turned by its wheel. Constitutional Government also resembles

a mill—but one that is put in movement by a complicated and

artistically constructed mechanism. A knowledge as to how to work

this machine and to keep it in movement is absolutely necessary.

Thus, we must hope that the men of experience who find themselves at

the head of affairs at Constantinople will not put the machinery of

the new mill in motion, in accordance with the ideas and routine of

the primitive mill. Constitutional Government cannot have the customs

and the men of the Despotic system as its motive power. Reshid Pasha,

our great reformer, was one day reproached for employing young men

who had only just left college; he replied that it was right that it

should be so, as neither one man alone, nor yet ten, could possibly

do everything, and that it was therefore necessary to prepare a fresh

staff of administrators. This has always been my idea, and whenever I

have seen many rivals around me, I have delighted in the thought that

it was to the profit of my country.

 

“If a man would render real and genuine services to his Sovereign and

his Nation, he must be _patriotic_, and very much depends upon the

way in which each person interprets this word. As for me, I consider

that man to be a true patriot who, renouncing his own private

interests, devotes himself morally and physically to one supreme

aim—the welfare of his country. One must be willing to renounce

everything—to be ready at a moment’s notice to sacrifice happiness,

family, and life itself for what one realises to be the good of the

Fatherland.

 

“I have frequently been in a position in which I might have remained

Minister, or have acquired vast wealth, and so have been able to end

my days in the midst of luxury and covered with honours. But such is

not my idea of patriotism.

 

“The esteem, love and sympathy of my nation have been always valued

by me far above all other favours and all the splendours of this

world. I could not remain a Minister when my Sovereign refused to

allow me to act as I thought necessary for the honour and welfare of

my country, and I prefer poverty and exile to the swords of honour,

the diamonds and highest favours; and to be held in esteem by my

compatriots is to me the proudest and keenest satisfaction.”

 

 

Events in the East having now begun to assume a more and more

threatening aspect, Midhat felt he could not possibly remain in

inactivity at Naples, in the face of all the troubles that assailed his

country. He went to Paris, and thence he crossed to London. He was the

subject of the warmest welcome in each of the two capitals. Although

an exile, he worked his hardest to find some favourable issue, and

to deliver his country from the risk she ran in the Russian War. His

friendly relations with Lord Beaconsfield and with the other English

statesmen did not fail to produce some good effects in helping to save

his country from an unjust war. When he had seen that the English

Government were disposed to offer their good office for the promotion

of an honourable peace, he left London for Vienna, where he was granted

an audience by the Emperor Francis Joseph. On receiving news of the

resistance offered by the Turkish army to the Russians, he addressed

the following telegram to the Sultan Abdul Hamid:—

 

 

_To H.M. First Secretary, Saïd Pasha._

 

“During my stay in London, I have tried to employ all my feeble

efforts in favour of the Empire’s cause, and to obtain an honourable

peace. I flatter myself that I have achieved some results. Now that

I am at Vienna I am desirous of acting in the same way, subject of

course to the approval of His Imperial Majesty, but it naturally goes

without saying that in order that my efforts may be crowned with any

measure of success, I must be to some extent acquainted with His

Majesty’s plans, so that guided by the intentions of the Government,

I may, to the best of my ability, render those services which are

necessary in the crisis through which we are passing.—I am, etc.,

 

MIDHAT.”

 

(1877.)

 

 

The Sultan informed him in reply that he would never accept peace, and

he would refuse to listen to any _pourparlers_ on this subject, and

that he did not hesitate to declare that any man who should contemplate

such a step was far from being a true patriot.

 

Midhat Pasha, seeing that peace was impossible, returned to London,

where he never wearied of striving by every means in his power to

be of assistance to his country. The Sultan, on his side, was doing

his best to vilify Midhat’s name in his own capital, and it is this

that elicited the following letter from him to the Grand Master of

Ceremonies, Kiamil Bey.

 

 

_To Kiamil Bey, Grand Master of Ceremonies._

 

“DEAR SIR,—I am thoroughly aware of how anxious you must be to avoid

a correspondence with me in my present disgrace, but I must ask your

indulgence for the few lines that I find myself obliged to address to

you.

 

“It has been brought to my knowledge that the publication of a letter

in one of the newspapers of Constantinople has given rise to various

attacks directed against me. I know very well that if an exile,

instead of seeking for indulgence and pity, dares to make use of

the language of criticism as to the acts of the Government, in such

a way as to provoke the enmity of certain personages, he will not

even be able to avoid hurting his friends. But as these observations

only relate to the defence of my own personality, it would be better

to pass them over in silence, for there is no greater crime than

to be occupied with one’s own individuality whilst the State is in

the midst of such serious dangers. I believe that no one who has

studied my letter can deny that it only contains the absolute truth.

If there is a certain crudeness to be found therein, it comes from

the truth of the words. If I have been able to remain indifferent to

the attacks of my enemies, who for more than a year have done their

best to injure me in the eyes of His Majesty by inserting articles

and pamphlets against me in the newspapers, it is also in my power

to bear with patience the vexatious attacks against my character.

But no one must be surprised that the right of nationality which I

possess in common with thirty‐six million fellow‐countrymen prevents

me from keeping silence whilst our country is in the midst of such

terrible vicissitudes, and our Ministers are involved in such great

difficulties. Yet time presses, and the perilous situation, which

has been dreaded for more than forty years, draws nearer and nearer.