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The Stage of Terror
The most important and difficult task Fuad Pasha gave himself was to reaffirm the absolute sovereignty of Sultan Abdülmecid in an Ottoman periphery already incorporated economically, culturally, and even militarily into European hegemony. Beyond restoring order and minimizing the encroachment of the European powers—a task immensely complicated by the presence of the vainglorious General de Beaufort d’Hautpoul of France—Fuad attempted to reclaim a monopoly on formal and legitimate violence from the “ignorant” subjects.[6] Among his first acts, in fact, was warning the Christians of Mount Lebanon in the beginning of October “that it is not permissible for the subjects to take upon themselves the right of vengeance, as vengeance and punishment are the prerogatives of the government.”[7]
Vengeance and the violence that stemmed from it were within the purview of the modern state; in place of and above the allegedly “age-old” (kadim ül-cereyan) passions and feuds of its subjects, it was the state, and more specifically the modern state, that was legitimate in its use of violence.[8] Fuad impressed this simple message on the recalcitrant subjects of Mount Lebanon. Never for a moment was there any doubt in Fuad’s mind, nor for that matter in the mind of Halim Pasha, the military commander in charge of suppressing and “disciplining” the population, that what had occurred in 1860 did not belong in any way, shape, or form to the modern world. As one of the great Tanzimat statesmen, Fuad directed his energies from the outset at trying to reclaim the sullied image of the Empire both at home and abroad.[9] He considered it his duty to represent the “true” Empire—i.e., its center, its reformers, and its Sultan—by excoriating the “cowardly” local governors who “stained the honor of the Ottoman army” and by denouncing the “negligent” commanders who “like spectators” watched the massacre of the Christian subjects in Mount Lebanon take place before their very eyes.[10] This was not simply public posturing to calm European fears: in confidential dispatches to Istanbul Fuad made the same point over and over again.[11] The modernization of the Ottoman Empire, indeed the viability of the empire itself, was at stake. Fuad insisted that if nothing were done in the face of the “sedition” in Syria, the European powers would increase their encroachment on Ottoman sovereignty and the Ottoman state would lose all rights and claims to being a modern power.
Indeed, although they realized that the French presence in Syria threatened “to bring …numerous problems and dangers” to the Ottoman state, Ottoman officials were aware that the Syrian drama was being played out on a far larger stage than a provincial one.[12] “The world,” confessed Fuad, “awaits the implementation of imperial justice.”[13] Fuad saw the prosecution of the “brigands” (eşkıyalar) of 1860 as an opportunity to realign the Ottoman Empire with the concert of Europe; he aimed to steal the thunder of European criticism of Ottoman “barbarism” by meting out exemplary modern punishments, for which the European powers and the sublime will of the Sultan were clamoring.[14]
In the periphery of the Empire, Fuad made it abundantly clear that the justification for punishment drew on two separate, yet interlinked, sources. The first, traditional, was the Sultan’s role as the arbitrator of justice and as the compassionate ruler. “With great sorrow, disgust, anger and bitterness,” said Fuad to the inhabitants of Damascus, “the Padişah, Hearer of Justice, has learned of the horrific and abominable acts of murder, plunder and looting of houses and general assault.”[15] The second, however, reworked the Sultan’s traditional prerogatives through a discourse of modernity. Fuad recast the Sultan’s absolute powers to show how the Tanzimat-era Sultan, in accordance with the precepts of modern civilization, was equidistant from all his subjects regardless of their religious persuasion. He underscored this change in a proclamation issued on 21 September 1860 by claiming that “the cruel treatment that the sedition brought in its wake in Mount Lebanon on the Christian subjects who are equal in rights according to the shari‘a [şeriat] and the qanun [kanun, secular imperial law issued by the Sultan] has produced a hurt that aroused the pity of the Imperial Majesty, something that is known to all people.”[16] Fuad insisted that punishments drew their legitimacy not simply from the Sultan but from a modernity to which the Ottoman Empire now laid claim. “Because the Sublime State never accepts that the slightest harm or aggression should befall any of the classes of imperial subjects who take shelter under its protection,” decreed Fuad, “and because the events [that transpired] were contrary to the principle of civilization current in the world and beyond the pale in every manner, the Sublime State, in accordance with its duty to ensure justice, has decided to punish those involved in the events.”[17]
Punishment, therefore, had a moral basis that went beyond tradition. The instrument of this modern terror was, not surprisingly, the reformed Ottoman army.[18] Historians have often focused on how the Ottoman army competed with the French army in a race to restore order but have not seen that an equally important aspect of the deployment of regular troops was to highlight their modernity and their discipline in contrast with the alleged anarchy of the natives of Syria. As representatives of modernity and as equals to the French, the regular Nizam troops deployed in Syria were exemplars of the modern nation. Fuad reminded the troops:
The ahali of these regions have contradicted the Padişah’s will by causing sedition and massacres. I have been appointed by our Padişah to be a commander with you to bring peace and security to this area and to punish the sins of the group because of their cruel acts.…A soldier is the hand of the Padişah. The Padişah’s hand is justice. He strikes at the oppressor. He cares for the oppressed. Let us show everybody what the worth and value of a soldier is and let all our compatriots [vatandaşlarımız] know our Padişah’s justice.[19]
Without even a hint of irony, Fuad presented an imperial vision of the Tanzimat to Syria at the point of a bayonet. “Without exception,” he told the soldiers, “all the imperial subjects are your compatriots [hepsi vatandaşınızdır].”[20] From Fuad’s perspective, the terror about to be unleashed was professional, orderly, and, above all, redemptive violence sanctioned by state and religion. “In accordance with the law of the şeriat [shari‘a], each of you is required to protect the lives, property, and honor of each of the imperial subjects without showing any distinction.”[21]
With Fuad having thus set the stage, reclaimed the image of the Empire and the mantle of true religion, joined them in a conception of modernity behind which were, side by side, the Sultan’s soldiers and those of France, the terror commenced. “Although it seems severe to kill so many men in a single day, the immensity of the crime and the impact on the world are such that this kind of great satisfaction and moral punishment are needed,” wrote Fuad, informing Istanbul of the mass executions of suspected rioters in Damascus. “It appears inevitable and necessary that for some time [the city] should be under subjugation.”[22] The French concurred, for a Colonel Osmant admitted by August “that the city is terrified of the Sublime Porte’s Commissioner.”[23] From the standpoint of the inhabitants of Damascus, at least the few notables who left behind a record of the terror as they saw it, the massacres and the punishments signified a world turned upside down and a fury that could not be justified by traditional understanding. In Damascus, first commoners and then notables were rounded up, exiled, hanged, and shot. Nobody knew whether their turn was next, when they would be denounced and hauled off to an uncertain fate. A Damascene judge’s diary tells of how the exiles were forced to march manacled from the early morning till they reached Beirut, where the Christians taunted them by calling out, “Where are your swords now? They’re taking you to the hangman’s rope, and tomorrow we are going to Damascus; we have kicked you out and are taking your homes.”[24] True or not, such stories indicated the alienation felt by the Muslims of the city at a time when the “fear and tribulation increased upon all the Muslims.”[25] The Druze shaykhs in Mount Lebanon were forced to flee for their lives after several among them, including Sa‘id Janbulat, had obeyed Fuad Pasha’s summons only to find themselves in jail. Those who escaped were hunted down as “rebels.” Their propery was confiscated, their livestock and wood commandeered. The Druze district of partitioned Mount Lebanon was abolished, and the area was put under martial law.[26] Torture was reportedly used to extract confessions.[27] Meanwhile, Fuad boasted that hundreds were arrested in Ottoman raids so efficient that “not even a blade of grass was disturbed” and “not a pip was heard.”[28] The Christians, under the protection of France, were left untouched.
Nevertheless, in the application of terror the vaunted modernity of Fuad’s campaign revealed itself to be not nearly as seamless and as orderly as it might have appeared in metropolitan circles: behind the much applauded punishment of the “savages” of Syria stood the ugly truth of a systemic violence that the rioters never possessed. It was, at heart, a rather crude terror intended to silence the population, born not out of a sense of frustration or alienation but out of a deliberate, imperial policy that set out to “discipline” the masses of Syria. The terror masked an essentially reactionary goal: to banish the subaltern from politics once and for all and to reconstitute the broken lines of hierarchy by recovering the meaning of Europe and the Tanzimat from popular understanding. Given the overwhelming military might at his disposal and the exhaustion and despair of the local population following war’s end, Fuad marched into Mount Lebanon unopposed, indeed openly welcomed by the Christian elites, to administer justice indeed but also to deliver the deathblow to popular interpretations of Ottoman reform.