Abstract
The purpose of this impressive book is to advance our understanding of the legitimation strategies of 19th-century Ottoman regimes by examining their ruler visibility. By ruler visibility, Darin Stephanov means the way in which a ruler is presented to and perceived by a public. He distinguishes between two types of ruler visibility: direct visibility, consisting of the sultan’s physical presentation to the public, and indirect visibility, consisting of symbolic markers, such as his monogram (tuğra), and physical structures, such as monuments constructed or restored by a particular sultan. He examines ruler visibility at home versus abroad, and visibility to Muslims versus visibility to Christian audiences.
The book begins with a very brief discussion of Ottoman ruler visibility before the 19th century, when both direct and indirect visibility had been more limited. After the reign of Suleyman I (1494-1566), military leadership by sultans became little more than symbolic. They were usually secluded behind visual barriers. Some did appear in public ceremonies, but these appearances were few in number, the ruler’s behavior was always restrained and ritualized, and such events took place almost entirely in Istanbul. Indirect visibility was also spatially limited. Royal portraits were not meant for wide public display, and the placement of the tuğra on the facades of public buildings was essentially restricted to the capital.
Understandably, Stephanov does not discuss the Early Modern conditions and processes that would explain the limited ruler visibility during this earlier period. So let me briefly mention the reasons that could be given in order to provide the comparative-historical context that I believe is necessary to appreciate fully the significance of Stephanov’s book. Most obviously, these practices had religious/cultural origins. The invisibility of God in the Abrahamic religions engendered a belief in a number of cultures that rulers must remain invisible in order to preserve their sacredness. The invisibility and inaccessibility of sultans also served to maintain the higher status of the sultan and of those members of the elite who did have some access to him, a distinction all the more important owing to the extreme social separation of Ottoman elites from the masses.
Another reason for Early Modern ruler invisibility was socio-demographic. Although Istanbul extracted revenue from a large area, it was almost a country in and of itself. It constituted one of the three most powerful socio-demographic centers in Europe, the other two being Paris and London. The Ottoman capital was already an immense and developed center in the mid-16th century, with twice the population of London and Paris combined; not until the mid-17th century were the populations of London and Paris comparable. In addition, of course, Ottoman centricity was the result of the nature of the political relationship between the central state and the provinces. This relationship varied considerably across the Empire, but in general it can be said that the Ottomans, like the Habsburgs, held only extensive power over most of what they claimed to rule, in contrast with the intensive power that Paris and, to a lesser extent, London were establishing over the immediate territories they ruled.
During the 18th century, the extensive power that the Ottomans exercised over their provinces became weaker and less stable. By the early 19th century, the center–periphery relationship had become a major political issue, and a strong feeling existed among some members of the political elite that more intensive control was required. Closely related to these pressures were international threats to the Empire. The ability of the Ottomans to compete militarily with European states was in decline, resulting in repeated military defeats and losses of territory in the 18th and 19th centuries. Along with that, Istanbul was losing its relative socio-demographic preeminence. By the mid-19th century, the populations of London and Paris each greatly exceeded that of Istanbul.
Stephanov makes some valuable points about the reforms introduced by the Ottoman state during the 19th century in an effort to increase its intensive power. He argues, for example, that the reform project known as Tanzimat was underway during the years that followed the abolition of the Janissaries (an elite military unit, which had enormous political power) in 1826, that is, well before the Gülhane Rescript of 1839, which is usually seen as the starting point. Yet it is primarily Stephanov’s investigation and analysis of the public interaction between the sultans and the people that help us understand the Ottoman struggle to build up the intensive power of the center over the provinces, as well as its ultimate—though not inevitable—failure. His book provides a wealth of information about the radical departure in the Ottoman mode of government from that of the Early Modern period.
According to Stephanov, the first shift in Ottoman ruler visibility came during the reign of Mahmud II (1808–1839). He initially conformed to traditional practices of visibility, but after the abolition of the Janissaries he expanded both direct and indirect visibility, convinced that greater personal contact with the Empire’s population was necessary to hold it together, and that a more positive image of the Ottomans was necessary abroad to secure and maintain alliances with European states. Already in the late 18th century there was recognition of the need to be more accommodating to Christians in order to preserve their loyalty to the Empire. And this concern intensified during the early years of Mahmud’s reign, along with the fear of antagonizing European Christians.
The cumulative turning points were the abolition of the Janissaries and the Greek Revolution of 1821–1829, the latter of which enjoyed considerable support in the West. Mahmud appeared in public, in a military uniform, as part of an effort to militarize his image and avoid the pomp of the traditional sultanic costume. In the 1830s, he made frequent public appearances in Istanbul and in the provinces undertaking ever-longer tours of the countryside. He tried to present himself to Muslims in Muslim terms, but to non-Muslims in more universal religious terms. He also expanded indirect visibility, at home but also abroad, by such means as royal portraits, medallions, and state honors linked to the royal person. A medallion bearing Mahmud’s image was employed domestically as an honorific reward. And his portrait and tuğra began to appear in embassies in European capitals.
His successor, Abdülmecid (1839–1861), continued in the same manner. In a quest for reciprocity with the West, his government institutionalized the award of honors for certain state officials in the capital and in the provinces. Non-ostentatious direct visibility was also extended. Abdülmecid succeeded to the throne when he was only 16 and acquired an image of accommodation and benevolence. What Stephanov calls a “trope of love” between the sultan and his people—a paternalistic love of the former for the latter and a loving duty of the latter to the former—had been espoused by Mahmud II and now flourished under Abdülmecid. Increasingly, the government sought not only to organize how the sultan presented himself to the people, but also to make known how the people and local authorities were expected to communicate their enthusiasm for the Sultan. Abdülmecid also further advanced the efforts of his father to integrate non-Muslims into the Empire. A syncretic blending and co-presence of Christian and Islamic language emerged in which the sultan was portrayed as the spiritual leader of both religions.
Stephanov effectively makes the case that this public interaction created supra-local structures for the development of ethno-nationalism. He focuses the most attention on the making of a macro-communal identification among Bulgars, although he presents evidence that similar processes were operating in other parts of the Empire. He shows how devotion to the sultan came to be framed as a communal devotion by the Bulgar people and how the father metaphor of the sultan transitioned into the metaphor of the Bulgar “fatherland” or “motherland.” In Stephanov’s view, the majority of the population under Ottoman rule had not previously identified with their ethno-national group (or millet) but with more micro-communities. Thus, he takes a relatively strong position against the idea that nations have primordial origins.
During the reign of Abdülaziz (1861–1876), these different narratives co-existed in public celebrations and ceremonies. The Sultan was revered using Christian terms; he was celebrated in the name of macro-communities; and a wider segment of the population, including peasants, were recruited into increasingly well-organized and coordinated celebrations. The apogee of Bulgar enthusiasm for the sultan was in the mid-1860s, at the very same time that identification with the Bulgar community was expanding and would provide the ethnic consciousness that fostered Bulgar revolutionary activity in the 1870s.
The final substantive chapter of the book is less concerned with ethno-nationalism and more just with ruler visibility. Under Abdülhamid II (1876–1909), there occurred what Stephanov calls a second shift in ruler visibility. On the one hand, Abdülhamid engaged in personal contact (albeit limited) with military personnel and foreign dignitaries; he also permitted the display of royal portraits abroad. And during his reign, indirect visibility was enormously expanded in architecture, monuments, obelisks, and fountains, with more emphasis on the history of the dynasty. On the other hand, direct visibility with the people he ruled was dramatically reduced. Abdülhamid tried to present himself as a pious Muslim and adopted practices that were more in line with Islamic tradition. Muslims were not allowed to use royal portraits to celebrate the Sultan. Much greater attention was given to Muslims—at least in comparison with Abdülhamid’s predecessors—a change that is not surprising given the decline in the non-Muslim population in the Empire. Ottoman strength now lay more than ever in the common identity of the Muslim population. Abdülhamid sought to solidify this source of strength, in fact to extend it beyond the Empire and present himself as the rightful caliph of all Muslims.
This is a book that makes a major contribution to what we know about Ottoman rule. It is evident, however, that Stephanov believes that what it does even more is to identify the historical pathway from the imperial policies of a 19th-century empire, to minority mindsets, and finally to ethno-national solidarities. And indeed he provides a wealth of historical detail showing how macro-communal rhetoric infiltrated the imperial campaign that was designed to intensify the bond between Ottoman sultans and the diverse populations over which they struggled to rule. In doing so, Stephanov also adds to the sociological literature on collective action by demonstrating how the Ottoman ruler-visibility project created a modern public space/sphere and mobilized populations in collective action that was then harnessed for other purposes. He shows that eventually the sultanic visibility project generated a symbolic warfare between the Ottomans and those challenging Ottoman rule. And, of course, by illuminating important causal mechanisms that have been given insufficient attention, he contributes significantly to literature on the evolution of modern states.