Philip Mansel–Constantinople, City of the World’s Desire
The present book is a truly marvelous historical meditation on one of the world’s great cities. Philip Mansel is a British historian and freelance academic who specializes in the “court-history” of France and the Ottoman Empire. What this means, as he says in his preface, is that he is interested in understanding the unique politics of the royal dynasties that governed much of the early modern world in their full complexity and peculiarity.
Though we are little more than two and a half centuries removed from early modern royalism, to study these regimes in their own terms is to truly enter a different country from the perspective of the modern reader. As Toqueville understood well by the 1830s, our own age offers a stark contrast between politically inclusive liberal states with formally accountable government and obscene tyrannies unshackled by the constraints of tradition, custom, and religion. Entering the world of court societies, Mansel examinines an alternative way of life, a world where rituals, religious law and institutions, and formal relationships between the multiple layers of power perform many of the same functions that formal constitutional constraints impose on political leadership in our time, albeit with far more ambiguity.
A key character throughout the book, for this reason, is the Sublime Porte, the seat of the Ottoman government between 1453 and 1923 when the modern Turkish Republic was established with its capital in Ankara. The Porte is lavishly described in vivid terms, its gardens, fountains, cuisine, music, harems, beautiful windows and, of course, its secretive intrigue. Along the way, we observe the Porte from many luminous sources: the British and Venetian diplomatic correspondence, the private writings of Grand Viziers, and quotations from the sultans themselves.
What is shown in each of these vignettes is politics conducted in an entirely different register. No doubt, politics here retains the same perennial human features –competing interest groups, war and fear of war, material want, material plenty, and their painful juxtaposition in the same society–but all of these forces and the political demands they generate are channeled in the Ottoman world to the ceremonial heart of the court rather than towards elections or representative institutions. One of the strange realizations that Mansel constantly implies–and even makes explicit a few times–is that for all its occult features, the Ottoman Court was more capable of holding together a highly religiously and linguistically diverse society than its successor states (Modern Greece, Turkey, the Arab states, Israel, Serbia, and Bulgaria, among others) and, perhaps more provocatively, many liberal democracies in other more putatively stable parts of the world which have their own struggles with governing diverse populations.
From here, the book radiates out to broader descriptions of life in Constantinople. The book’s chapters are a fine blend of a chronological and thematic organization. Each chapter covers a distinct theme from “the Palace” to “The Janissaries’ Frown” to “The Road to Tsarigrad”--what the Russian Romanov dynasty hoped to rename Constantinople upon a conquest long hoped for and never achieved. Each chapter picks up its theme in the part of Ottoman history the author deems most appropriate to begin his discussion, and some chapters begin at an earlier point than where the prior chapter left off, but eventually the book advances chronologically.
One of the great pleasures of the book are the everyday Istabulites one encounters on the journey, gossiping women and their maidservants in the public baths, Genoese and Venetian merchants in their wing of the city, the sultan’s Jewish doctors and confidants, attendees of the public feasts and processions. In this manner, Mansel manages to write an aristocratic court history that is at the same time a social history of the ancient city that was the court’s environ and cultural lifeblood in a way that is natural and compelling. One leaves his work with an increased appreciation both how historians need not make a compromise between “traditional” histories of war, politics, and diplomacy and more bottom-up approaches tracking everyday people and long term social and economic trends. These two perspectives are complementary.
One cannot seriously read Mansel’s depiction of Constantinople’s four Ottoman centuries without being humbled by the magnificence of the diverse urban civilization it sustained. Mansel is far from a sentimentalist. He upbraids Selim I for outlawing the printing for books by Muslim authors in the name of religious reverence for caligraphy, a fatal decision that retarded scientific and intellectual progress in the empire’s Muslim population for centuries. He directs Gibbon-esque invective at the Ottoman Janissaries, the slave soldier corps who became an independent interest group capable of ending military campaigns through the threat of mutiny and fomenting palace coups to kill and overthrow sultans who wouldn’t increase their pay. He shows that the 1529 siege of Vienna, an arguably pivotal reversal for the Ottomans from which they never fully recovered, was abandoned because the Janissaries threatened to mutiny. Though the Ottomans tried once more to conquer the city despite trying once more in 1683, conditions were by no means as auspicious by this point. Selim III’s attempts to modernize the military and sideline the Janissaries are equally vividly documented, as is his catastrophic overthrow by defenders of the status quo.
Despite all this, Mansel gently demonstrates that the Ottomans, especially in Constantinople, sustained a greater openness to trade, religious diversity, and the migration of skilled and ambitious persons to its shore than most European capitals before the eighteenth and even nineteenth centuries. Ironically, as the later history of religious and ethnic conflict in Greece and Asia minor shows, it may have been the Ottoman autocracy’s ability to force its constituent religious groups into political coexistence that allowed them to cooperate so fruitfully in economic terms. With much of the Middle East today still controlled by protectionist regimes with socialist and extremist histories, resulting in most Muslim countries trading with Europe more than each other and the mass persecution of religious difference, one cannot help but admire this achievement.
No history of the Ottoman court would be complete without the harem. Mansel provides a vivid description of the harem system at work. Rather than marry a single woman, as in the European pattern, the Ottoman sultans, like their Chinese counterparts, controlled a harem upwards of a thousand women who were enslaved from the empire’s diverse population. Outside of the vicious and nakedly Darwinian logic of the harem, which allows the powerful to the hoard capacity to pass down his genes to an astonishing degree and for this reason can be found in different forms across a number of societies, the harem disallowed the sultan the kind of diplomatic marriages between dynasties that characterized European politics. This made the Porte a self-enclosed world unto itself. Mansel’s description of it gives a vivid sense of the way the Ottoman government produced a kind of extreme privatization of political rule–with government conducted from a private throne room from which most non-castrated men were excluded. Those who did enter had to kowtow (drag themselves across the floor) with great gusto. A greater contrast with the public forum in which politics was, at least ceremonially and officially, conducted in the ancient Roman and Greek republics could scarcely be imaginable. The Porte was a society that took the logic of politics as a privatized family affair to greater extremes than almost any other.
What is most startling in Mansel’s description of this world, of course, is his narration of Ottoman succession crises. Heirs to the throne were kept essentially as prisoners in the Porte, and when the sultan died–whether by natural or violent causes–a new sultan would be named from among these cloistered men. The new sultan’s brothers, sometimes all of them, sometimes a few, would be murdered in order to prevent competition for the throne. This brutal practice only ceased entirely with the beginning of the eighteenth century. It was, needless to say, a terrible recipe for producing robust and competent rulers. Heirs to the throne were kept imprisoned in the Porte or at least under close watch, unable to leave the palace. When a new sultan was finally chosen upon the death of his father, he assumed the throne with a total lack of worldly experience, military, diplomatic, or otherwise. Nevertheless, just as the most robust democracies are liable to select imbeciles to lead them quite frequently, so too did a selection process as irrational as violent as the Ottomans’ select men of profound abilities and robust constitutions on more than one occasion. The most famous of these, whom Mansel describes with great sympathy and literary flair, is Suleiman the Magnificent, who bucked tradition and took his lover Roxelana as his legal wife and took the empire to its furthest point of expansion into central Europe. Suleiman wrote moving poems to her which Mansel quotes gracefully.
Mansel’s account of the tragedy of World War I and with it the dissolution of the Ottoman empire is profound and impressive. The tragic process by which the Ottomans and eventually the Young Turk rulers who controlled them entered the war on the German side plays out terribly, but understandably, in response to the Franco-Russian alliance whose menace to Germany was also at the heart of the war. After the war is lost and the British and French begin their efforts to totally partition the carcass of the empire, one cannot help but admire the heroism of Mustafa Kemal–soon to be Attaturk–the founder of modern Turkey. He fights a successful war of independence to prevent the colonization of the predominantly Turkish part of his country and builds a modern state atop it. While Ataturk’s protectionist economic policies, his early cooperation with the Soviets, and his socialist modernization projects should be roundly rebuked, he cannot seriously be regarded as anything other than a hero. He is the savior of his country and the dignity of his countrymen. The value he leaves his people in terms of secularism, scientific culture, and indigenous tradition of liberal political theory people cannot be overestimated and still sustains a part of the secular opposition to the aspiring tyrant Ergogan to this day. Mansel’s portraiture of Ataturk, and all the other actors in the final stages of the Ottoman tragedy, is masterful and moving.
This book is an extraordinary achievement. It is written with great literary ability and mastery of its sources. It is full of fascinating and memorable details, rich in humanity and nuance.