Preferred Citation: Akarli, Engin. The Long Peace: Ottoman Lebanon, 1861-1920. Berkeley:  University of California Press,  c1993 1993.


The Long Peace

Ottoman Lebanon, 1861–1920

Engin Deniz Akarli

Berkeley · Los Angeles · Oxford
© 1993 The Regents of the University of California

To Tuna, with love and gratitude

Preferred Citation: Akarli, Engin. The Long Peace: Ottoman Lebanon, 1861-1920. Berkeley:  University of California Press,  c1993 1993.

To Tuna, with love and gratitude


In 1973-74, while doing research on late Ottoman history in the Prime Ministry Archives in Istanbul, I was struck by the wealth of documents on Lebanon. At every opportunity since that time, I have returned to that material and tried to supplement it with information from other sources. My initial intention was to understand the reasons for the obvious importance the Ottoman government attributed to Lebanon. Eventually the challenge of understanding the problems of state formation in Lebanon began to guide my research; the result is the present work. Many people have contributed to it over the years. Responsibility for errors is exclusively mine, but I would like to acknowledge at least some of the help I have received.

Hayri Mutluçag graciously initiated me into the labyrinth of nineteenth-century Ottoman documents; I owe him a special debt of gratitude.

My first work on Lebanon was a docentship thesis, written in 1981. I fondly remember the moral and material support given me by my colleagues at Bosphorus University; above all, Metin Kunt, Zafer Toprak, Yalçin Koç, Selim Deringil, and Taha parla. The members of my jury, Professors Münir Aktepe, Abdurrahman Çayci, Nejat Göyünç, Ercümend Kuran, Mübahat Kütükoglu, and Sihabeddin Tekindag, provided me with useful feedback and enthusiastic support, for which I am grateful.

A year of residency fellowship at the Institute for Advanced Study in Berlin in 1985-86 enabled me to resume my work on Lebanon after a long interruption. In this connection I owe special thanks to Peter von Sivers.

It was in Tunisia, at the conferences organized by Professor Abdeljelil Temimi as part of his admirable efforts to encourage research on Arab lands during the Ottoman period, that I first had the chance to discuss my


findings with Lebanese colleagues. The Centre for Lebanese Studies in Oxford afforded me the occasion to participate in two very illuminating conferences. I thank Leila Fawaz, who introduced me to the Centre, and Nadim Shehadi, the Centre's director, for this opportunity, and for their constant support of my work.

The directors and staff of the Prime Ministry Archives in Istanbul were very helpful in facilitating my research. The library staff at Yarmouk University in Jordan were ever ready to find the works I needed. Belgin Tekçe, Butrus Abu-Manneh, 'Isam Khalifa, Abdul-Rahim Abu-Hasayn, and Boutrus Labaki supplied me with important information and publications. Other friends, Fritz Steppat, Baber Johansen, Richard Smith, Martha Mundy, Aslihan Yener, and Judith von Sivers provided very useful criticism on initial versions of parts of this work. Michael Howley read much of the final text and offered insightful remarks and suggestions for stylistic improvements. I am grateful to them all.

Earlier versions of certain sections of this work have been published elsewhere. Chapter 4 appeared in Lebanon: A History of Conflict and Consensus , edited by Nadim Shehadi and Dana H. Mills (London: I. B. Tauris, 1988), pp. 79–100. Chapter 5 was published in Al-Abhath (Journal of the Center for Arab and Middle East Studies, American University of Beirut) 35 (1987):29–51; and Chapter 6 in Les provinces arabes et leurs sources documentaires à l'époque Ottomane , edited by Abdeljelil Temimi (Tunis, 1984), pp. 59–72. Appendix B appeared in Studies on Turkish-Arab Relations, Annual 1986 (Istanbul: Foundation for Studies on Turkish-Arab Relations, 1987), pp. 13-19. I am grateful to the editors and publishers who gave me permission to reprint these chapters in revised form.

My former mentors, Professors Norman Itzkowitz and Carl Brown, provided me with precious support and criticism in preparing this work, as they have done throughout my career. Professor Albert Hourani's works, as well as his invaluable comments on my text, guided me through the maze of Lebanese historiography. I am indebted to these great teachers.

I also wish to thank my acquiring editor, Lynne Withey, whose encouragement for the publication of this work came at a time when I needed it most, and my project and manuscript editors, Rose Anne White and Marjorie Hughes, for whose skills and kindness I have great admiration.

Without the fine academic environment and collegial atmosphere of Washington University in St. Louis, this work would have taken much longer to complete. I am grateful for the research grants and other support from the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences and the Department of


History. All my colleagues in the History Department and the Center for the Study of Islamic Societies and Civilizations have contributed to this work in one way or another. It is a great pleasure to work with them. I am particularly grateful to Peter Riesenberg, Mark Kornbluh, Ahmet Karamustafa, and Peter Heath for their unending encouragement. I owe a special debt of gratitude to Cornell Fleischer, from whose admirable friendship and talents I have benefited in numerous ways.

Last but not least, I would like to acknowledge the support of my wife. In gratitude for all she has done for me, I dedicate this work to her.


Note on Transliteration and Dates


Transliteration is kept as simple as possible in this work. For Arabic personal names and Lebanese places names, only the 'ayn is indicated. For titles and terms in Arabic and Ottoman-Turkish, and for place names on maps, the only diacritical marks are the 'ayn and those on elongated vowels. Special characters of the modern Turkish alphabet are used for Turkish titles, authors, and Ottoman terms. Ottoman personal names are written according to modern Turkish spelling (thus Vasa and not Wasa, or Rüstem and not Rustam).


Dates of all Ottoman documents used in this work are given in the notes. Most are in the lunar hijrî or Islamic calendar, and the corresponding months and years in the Gregorian system (that is, the calendar commonly used today) are in parentheses following the hijrî dates.

Some dates used in the documents are in the Ottoman mâlî or fiscal calendar, a solar calendar based on the Julian system, which runs twelve days behind the Gregorian system. The Ottomans began to use the fiscal calendar widely from the hijrî year 1256 (1840 C.E.) onward, and hence counted the fiscal years starting from 1256, considering March (Mart ) the first month of the year. Gregorian equivalents of the Ottoman fiscal dates are in parentheses in the notes.


Abbreviations and Terms



Agustos , sixth month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar


'Ayniyât Defterleri , registers containing copies of letters from the grand vizier's office


Rajab , seventh month of the Islamic calendar


Bâb-i 'Âlî Evrâk Odasi , papers of the "Sublime Porte Secretariat"


Jumâda-l-thâni , sixth month of the Islamic calendar


Jumâda-l-ûlâ , fifth month of the Islamic calendar


Mümtâze: Cebel-i Lübnân Dosyalari , files on the privileged provinces: Mount Lebanon


defter no. , register no.


Gelen-Giden Defterleri , registers for incoming and outgoing correspondence


gömlek , document cover no.


hijrî , the Islamic calendar


Hâriciye Arsivi, Tercüme Kalemi Evrâki , papers of the Translation Office in the Ottoman Foreign Ministry Archives


Hazîrân , fourth month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar


International Journal of Middle East Studies


Irâdeler or Irâde Tasnîfi , imperial decrees


Istanbul Üniversitesi Edebiyat Fakültesi Tarih Dergisi , History Journal of the University of Istanbul, Faculty of Letters

Ka. e.

Kânûn-i evvel , tenth month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar


Ka. s.

Kânûn-i sâni , eleventh month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar


Shawwâl , tenth month of the Islamic calendar


Muharram , first month of the Islamic calendar


Mühimme-i Mektûme Defterleri , registers for classified decisions


mükerrer , repeated reference number on an archival document


Ramadân , ninth month of the Islamic calendar


Nîsân , second month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar


Sublime Porte, Bâb-i 'Âlî , the executive headquarters of the Ottoman central government; offices of the grand vizier


Foreign Office Archives Office in the Public Record Office, London


Rabî' al-thâni , fourth month of the Islamic calendar


Rabî' al-awwal , third month of the Islamic calendar


Safar , second month of the Islamic calendar


Sha'bân , eighth month of the Islamic calendar


'ubât , twelfth month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar

Te. e.

Te'rîn-i evvel , eighth month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar


Temmûz , fifth month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar

Te. s.

Te'rîn-i sâni , ninth month of the Ottoman fiscal calendar


varak no. , folio number on documents


Yildiz Esâs Evrâki , main documents from the Yildiz Palace


Zû-l-hijja , twelfth month of the Islamic calendar


Zû-l-qa'da , eleventh month of the Islamic calendar

Appendix B contains detailed information on the collections of documents mentioned in the above list.



This book covers the development of an autonomous political regime in Ottoman Mount Lebanon, the historical and geographical core of today's Lebanon. Called the mutasarrifiyya Jabal Lubnân , the regime was set up after the civil war of 1860 and lasted until the establishment of Greater Lebanon under French mandate in 1920. In retrospect, the mutasarrifiyya years emerge as a tranquil period that deserves to be called the longest span of internal peace in modern Lebanese history. This was also a period of reconciliation and sociopolitical integration, as the conglomeration of parochial communities on Mount Lebanon moved toward becoming a society with a distinct political identity, a centralized government, and political traditions characteristically their own. In this work, I describe in detail this development and the conditions under which it occurred. I conclude that an embryonic "nation-state" had formed in Mount Lebanon by 1920, even though it had certain serious shortcomings.

I believe my work makes a threefold contribution to the field. First, it treats a relatively neglected though important period of modern Lebanese history. Second, it uses hitherto neglected but enormously rich sources from the Ottoman archives to introduce a fresh perspective on Lebanese history which has so far been studied mainly through French and British sources. Finally, it is a case study relevant to the problems of nation- and state-building which continue to haunt Lebanon as well as other parts of the Middle East and the entire world.

Since the early decades of the nineteenth century, Lebanon has remained one of the most sensitive and turbulent areas in the Middle East, and has continued to attract the world's scholarly as well as political attention. Research on Lebanon has tended to concentrate on periods of crisis, perhaps understandably so. Crises are undoubtedly significant phenom-


ena, because they dramatize and magnify structural contradictions that cause disruptions in the society and force it to adjust to changing circumstances. Concentration on moments of conflict, however, tends to conceal not only the pattern of enduring power relations but also the changes in those relations that come about through nonviolent means of conflict resolution such as negotiation, arbitration, and the shifting of alliances. A comprehensive grasp of the dynamics of change and continuity requires a knowledge of society in longer and relatively peaceful ranges of time. Therefore, detailed inquiries into the mutasarrifiyya years—about half a century of comparatively tranquil political development between a civil war and the radical disruption resulting from foreign intervention and territorial enlargement—should have been particularly attractive to scholars. Indeed, historians of Lebanon show a growing appreciation of the significance of this period, not least because the unprecedented longevity and destructiveness of the recent civil war prompts serious reexamination of the historical process that created Lebanon.

Recently published monographs, combined with a few earlier works, enable us to reconstruct the political history of the mutasarrifiyya in considerable detail. Most of these works are based on information from the French and British archives, local newspapers, memoirs, and other contemporary eyewitness accounts.[1] A few historians have been able to make partial use of the minutes of the mutasarrifiyya's "Administrative Council"[2] and selective portions of the documents preserved in the archives of the Maronite Patriarchate.[3] Thanks to these studies, we now have a fairly good understanding of European policies and activities and of the intellectual trends and socioeconomic conditions prevailing in the area during the mutasarrifiyya period. Additional work based on local archival sources will no doubt help expand our knowledge of contemporary social and political forces. There exists, however, yet another and hitherto largely ignored source of information, without which our knowledge of the internal workings of Lebanese history remains decidedly incomplete. This source is the enormously rich collection of official correspondence, reports, petitions, and other documents related to Mount Lebanon and Beirut preserved in the Ottoman archives.[4]

These materials offer a different perspective on modern Lebanese history from those that rely heavily on Western sources and emphasize Western influence, action, and interests as the principal agents of historical development. The history of Lebanon thus tends to become the story of the creation of an outpost of an intrinsically progressive Western civilization in an essentially stagnant, and hence history-less, environment. Rivalries among the Western powers provide the element of suspense,


while diplomats, local clients of the Western powers, and the Westernized Lebanese elite become the lead characters. The natural climax is then the establishment of the French mandate regime in 1920, with which begins the "real" history of Lebanon and the Lebanese.

Western activities and influence undeniably played a crucial role in the making of modern Lebanon. Nevertheless, accounts that tend to reduce the history of a people to the external influences on them are bound to remain partial and misleading.[5] Concentration on the mutasarrifiyya period, with the aid of the material available in the Ottoman archives, helps balance the Westernized perspective on Lebanon's history, for this material enables us to shift emphasis onto the changing patterns of relations among the Lebanese themselves and onto their place in their immediate geographical and cultural environment, as opposed to the "Westernization" of the country.

The Ottoman documents constitute a qualitatively and quantitatively rich mine of information on a variety of subjects, including religious and cultural life, emigration, contraband trade, grievances about the conduct of officials, family and village feuds, land and water disputes, public works and communications, etc. But most important, they are concerned with issues related to the formation of a reliable governmental system and lasting public order in Mount Lebanon. This concern is understandable because, although the organic regulations designed for the administration of Mount Lebanon in the aftermath of the 1860 civil war were under the guarantee of the major European powers, it was the Ottoman government, the sovereign power in the area, that shouldered the responsibility for implementing the new order. Thus there accumulated a mass of archival data on the diplomatic, political, and social problems related to the formation of an enduring governmental system in Mount Lebanon. The nature of the Ottoman data, therefore, has encouraged me to approach the history of the mutasarrifiyya as a case study in state-building and sociopolitical integration.

One of the most formidable challenges of the modern era has been the formation of powerful centralized states sustained by economically, politically, and culturally integrated (civic) societies.[6] The efforts to meet this challenge, in the Middle East as in many other parts of the world, have however often led to the concentration of power in the hands of a bureaucratic-military or monarchical elite. These elites assume custodianship of the people over whom they rule, and tend to become publicly unaccountable and to suppress basic human rights. Such an authoritarian political environment may help keep the people together by force of the government's coercive capabilities, but it is hardly conducive to formation of a


civic society with a common basis of allegiance to the state and the political process. No matter how strong and stable an authoritarian regime may appear, it remains ultimately vulnerable to internal dissension and external threats or manipulations.

The distribution of power in society, or the involvement of the competing economic, social, and cultural-ideological interest groups in the political process and power relationships, necessarily appears to strengthen the state—that is, to broaden and deepen the social basis on which governmental authority rests. Power-sharing, however, calls for political traditions and norms that guide the constant renegotiation and reconciliation of competing material and moral interests. Such traditions and norms are formed, refined, and institutionalized over time, through continuous political praxis and experience, but rarely without serious clashes within the society. In other words, participative politics engenders political instability, preparing fertile ground for authoritarian interventions that stifle and further complicate the development of a sufficiently dynamic, adaptive, popular, and hence truly stable governmental system.

These intricate dilemmas of political modernization, caught between power concentration and power-sharing, stability and instability, fragility and depth of social basis, are further complicated in the Middle East because of the region's potential for rapid socioeconomic development and the intensity of international interest in the area. There is no good reason to believe, however, that the people of the Middle East cannot develop their own forms of participatory polities. Thus an open-minded (and open-hearted) inquiry into the historical experience of past generations in dealing with problems of social and political reorganization raised by the challenges of a new era should be salutary.

The history of Lebanon is particularly instructive. It was once a rare example of democracy in the area; it has now become the prime example of what happens to a people with a "feeble state." The magnitude of the damage and suffering the Lebanese have inflicted upon themselves through the recent civil war is horrifying, and the specter of "Lebanonization" now serves to justify even the most atrociously autocratic regimes. Clearly, Lebanese democratic institutions and traditions failed to adjust to changing social circumstances, and the existing political system failed to retain, let alone enlarge and deepen, the respect and allegiance it commanded in the society. Equally clearly, however, the consequent struggle revolved around deep disagreements over the revisions in the political system that would be necessary in order to render Lebanon a more viable state and the Lebanese a more viable society. Aspirants to autocratic rule and authoritarian solutions have not been absent, but they have


failed, despite powerful external support and internal desperation. The concept of a democratic Lebanon has prevailed, though at a ruinous cost in human and material terms.[7]

It is still not clear how the Lebanese riddle can be solved, if at all. Looking at Lebanese history from the vantage point of the mutasarrifiyya period, however, I find reasons to be hopeful. The Lebanese democratic tradition and the concept of Lebanon that this tradition has informed and nourished so far leave much to be desired, but they appear to have deep enough roots in history and society to serve as the basis of yet another and potentially more successful attempt at social reconciliation and political reformation. In this regard, the experience of the people of Mount Lebanon during the mutasarrifiyya period should be relevant.


The Road to a Special Regime in Mount Lebanon

"Mount Lebanon" was once the name of the northern ridges of the range of mountains and hills stretching along the Mediterranean coast from the Barid River in the north to the Zahrani River in the south. Eventually the name came to cover roughly the entire mountain range, today also called the Lebanon Mountains.[1] When a special administrative regime, the mutasarrifiyya , was established here in 1861, it appeared only natural to call this area Mount Lebanon, or simply "The Mountain." This designation by a single name reflected its unification into a distinct entity, just as did its placement under a unified administration. But this was a result of at least twenty years of internal strife and clashes, culminating in a violent civil war in 1860. How did these seemingly contradictory developments, toward integration on the one hand, and civil strife on the other, come about? In this chapter I will try to answer this question.


Mount Lebanon, in the broader sense of the term, indeed has distinctive topographical features. It rises steeply from a very thin coastal strip, reaches imposing heights within 15–20 miles of the coast, and falls to the plains of Ba'lbak and Biqa' on the east, mostly in precipitous slopes. On the north and south it descends through a series of ridges to merge with the plateaus of 'Akkar, and Jabal 'Amil, respectively. As these features separate Mount Lebanon from the world around it, other features divide it internally. Thanks to heavy winter precipitation and considerable snow melt, Mount Lebanon is exceptionally well watered. Water absorbed by its porous higher limestone strata is forced to the surface near the outcrops of basaltic and sandstone layers at an average altitude of 3,000–4,000 feet in perennial and often copious springs. These springs and the gullies they


form feed a number of streams and rivers that, as they rush toward the sea, cut deep ravines and gorges, dividing the Mountain into sharply separated regional enclaves (see Map 1).[2]

Before the advent of modern technology, this tortuous terrain severely limited travel and transportation both within the Mountain areas and between them and neighboring lowland settlements. Tripoli in the north and Saida (Sidon) in the south were the major towns with which the mountaineers remained in contact. Tripoli was the outlet of an agriculturally rich hinterland of its own, and the major international port in the region until about the mid-sixteenth century. Under Ottoman rule, from 1516 onward, Saida began to outshine Tripoli. Saida became the main port of Damascus, the economic and political capital of southern "Syria."[3] Between the orbits of Tripoli and Saida, the Mountain was further divided into a northern zone, economically and administratively attached to Tripoli, and a southern zone linked to Saida. A little river flowing into the bay of Junia, the Mu'amalatain, marked the formal border between the two zones.[4]

Beirut's central location on the coast placed it in a position to serve the middle parts of the Mountain as a market town where local products and produce were exchanged for commodities brought from distant lands via Saida and Tripoli. Dair al-Qamar, in the heart of the south, played a similar role on a much more modest scale. It served as a relay station for the storage and distribution of commodities coming from and bound for Saida and, to a lesser extent, Beirut and the Biqa' valley. Zahla, overlooking the fertille Biqa' valley on the east and only a short distance from Damascus, was another commercial center of some significance. Indeed, when the traffic between Damascus and the coast began to shift away from the Wadi al-Taim—Saida route to the Zahla-Beirut route in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, Zahla rapidly developed into a sizable town.

Simultaneously, commercial relations acquired a greater importance in the Mountain's economy. Even before these changes, people inhabiting the relatively gentler slopes and piedmonts near Tripoli, Saida, and Beirut (or Kura, Kharrub, and Gharb, to be more specific) evidently marketed some of their produce in these towns. Also, production of raw silk and silk cocoons was a major source of cash for almost all parts of the Mountain. But commerce and cash played only a minor role in the lives of most mountaineers. The dearth of regular market towns attests to this point. Even at the beginning of the nineteenth century, Dair al-Qamar's population was around 4,000, that of Zahla around 1,000, and the population of Beirut, including its suburbs, had hardly yet reached 8,000 and was probably as low as 6,000.[5]



Map 1.
Traditional Districts of Mount Lebanon and Their Relationship to Land 
Formations (based on Leon Marfoe, "The Integrative Transformation: 
Patterns of Sociopolitical Organization in Southern Syria,"  Bulletin of the 
American Schools of Oriental Research 
234 [1979]:26).


The People

Small self-sufficient villages built along the springs and gullies high on the Mountain's various enclaves characterized its settlement landscape. Thanks to the arduous efforts of many generations, the soil was fixed on the hillsides by careful terracing. Development and maintenance of these terraces and the irrigation of fields required cooperation among the villages benefiting from a network of water resources. Since variations in altitude facilitated the cultivation of a variety of crops and fruit with varying harvest schedules, the villagers were able to help one another and also barter their produce. A large family or a clan of related families commanding sufficient land, labor, and water resources could live a basically self-contained life, with due cooperation from its neighbors. The need to cooperate for survival, however, also caused quarrels. When a party breached others' rights or failed to fulfill its responsibilities, internecine clashes between families, clans, villages or neighboring hills could easily erupt. The serene life of the mountaineers in their rough but truly beautiful environment was thus interrupted at times by outbursts of violence. Still, communal ties among the inhabitants of a village and between neighboring villages remained traditionally strong.[6]

Shared religious beliefs reinforced communal ties, and vice versa. The Mountain was a haven for heterodox groups.[7] In the past, several such groups settled its different regions and managed to preserve their sectarian identity in an environment that by and large isolated and protected them from external influences and pressure. A case in point is that of the Maronites, who until about the late sixteenth century were concentrated in the northern enclaves of Bsharri, Batrun, and Jubail, or "Mount Lebanon" in its original, narrower sense. They were the descendants of an Arab, or Arabized, and Christian people, probably a tribal group, whom the Byzantines drove out of the Orontes valley onto the highlands of "Mount Lebanon" in the late tenth century. Little is known about the Christian doctrines the Maronites originally professed, though it is certain they had reasons to reject the Byzantine Church. Once in the Mountain, they eventually identified themselves with Catholicism and formed one of the first Uniate churches. The first contacts between the Maronite clergy and the Vatican date from the thirteenth century. It was only after the late sixteenth century, however, that relations between the Maronite clergy and the Vatican acquired a degree of regularity, and only during the eighteenth century did the Maronite Church become properly institutionalized. Meanwhile, the Maronites lived a basically introverted life organized in egalitarian peasant communities upon the ruggedest and roughest parts of


the Mountain. Tripoli was their main window onto the larger world. This situation began to change, however, as the Maronites moved southward in steadily increasing numbers from the late sixteenth century onward. In the 1860s they formed close to 60 percent of the Mountain's population.[8]

In their move to the south, the Maronites often settled the lands vacated by the so-called mutawâlî Shiites or mixed with them. Shiism represents an alternative interpretation of the Islamic historical experience to that held by the main, Sunni, line. It emphasizes social justice and equity, as opposed to the Sunni emphasis on social stability and conformism, and tends to view state power as a corruptive force. From the seventh century on, opposition movements against established governments in Islamic lands often adopted a Shiite outlook. In Syria, as elsewhere, mountains served as strongholds for Shiite movements of one version or another, and Lebanon's mountains were no exception. There were pockets of Shiites in the north among the Maronites, but they were mostly concentrated in the central and southern ports of the Mountain, tilling the hills of Matn and Kisrawan and the approaches to Saida. Caught up in the intermittent struggles that the potentates of Saida and Tripoli, and their allies, waged to gain supremacy over one another during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the Shiites dispersed. They also suffered at times from the suspicions of the Sunni establishments controlling the major power centers in the region. As some Shiites left the Mountain to regroup elsewhere and others converted to Sunnism, their numbers dwindled. In the 1860s they constituted less than 6 percent of the Mountain's population.[9]

It was an alliance of predominantly Druze chieftains led by the governor of Saida, Fakhr al-Din bin Kormaz Ma'n, which finally gained firm control of the central and southern hills of the Mountain in the early seventeenth century. The Druze themselves adhere to a highly gnostic and esoteric version of Shiism that combines Islamic teachings with Hellenistic, Iranian, and other Eastern pre-Islamic religious traditions. After originating in Ismaili Egypt in the early eleventh century, the Druze sect met its only enduring success among the Shiites of Shuf in the Mountain and the neighboring Wadi al-Taim. Even there the Druze stopped proselytizing, in principle, within a few decades. Thereafter they married internally and developed into a cohesive group whose members were bound to one another by blood ties and a strong sense of solidarity. The full secrets of the sect were revealed only to a few, properly initiated, "sages" ('uqqâl ). These custodians of the Druze religious and cultural traditions commanded great respect in the community and helped to maintain the social order by acting as arbiters of disputes. Although certain families excelled


in the number of "sages" they produced, the Druze religious leadership did not form a caste. The leaders shared in the toils of the community as ordinary members. It was defense and other military ventures that propelled a few families into aristocratic status.[10]

From an early point in the history of their community, the Druze seem to have earned a reputation as valiant warriors. Clearly, both the Mamluk and Ottoman governors ruling in the Damascus area sought to employ the Druze in their service rather than to wage war against them, insofar as this was possible. The Druze were in a position to disturb the neighboring lowland settlements and trade roads from their strongholds on the Mountain, and they did not hesitate to do so if they felt challenged or saw a reasonably safe opportunity to supplement their income. In the sixteenth century, the Ottoman governors of Damascus acknowledged the military capacity of the Druze. After protracted and costly efforts to subdue them, which sometimes amounted to brutal repression, the Ottomans finally settled for a compromise.

In 1593, they appointed the powerful Druze chieftain Fakhr al-Din Ma'n as the amir (military governor) of Saida, recognized the Ma'ns as the paramount Druze clan, and let the Druze have their way in the Mountain as long as they kept their allegiance to the Ottoman system and helped keep the communications of Damascus and other towns in the area unhampered. With the government's weight behind him and the revenue of Saida in his service, Amir Fakhr al-Din made himself a powerful ruler in an area that included virtually all of today's Lebanon and northern Palestine. He brought under his control all the ports of the Damascus province and hence its maritime trade with Egypt, Anatolia, and Europe. Complaints from Damascene merchants and notables finally prompted the central government to act against him. He was arrested in 1633 and executed two years later.[11]

After Fakhr al-Din's demise, the power network he had built instantly dissolved, except in the central and southern parts of the Mountain and Wadi al-Taim. Here the new set of relationships generated by Fakhr al-Din's powerful position as the governor of Saida endured. A degree of stability was finally restored to the hills of Kisrawan, Matn, and Jazzin. Druze and Maronite peasants settled these areas, along with the remaining Shiites. All evidence indicates that until the beginning of the nineteenth century a liberal and mutually tolerant atmosphere prevailed in the resultant mixed communities.[12]

In fact, yet another dissident group, the Uniate Melchites, were attracted to the Mountain by its religiously tolerant atmosphere as well


as by its growing economic potential. The Uniate Melchites—or "Greek" Catholics, as they were commonly called in the region—were dissenters from the churches of Antioch and Jerusalem, which were affiliated to the "Greek" or Rum (that is, [East] Roman, Byzantine) Orthodox Patriarchate. In the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, cautious but effective activities of Catholic missionaries devoted to the Counter-Reformation recruited many sympathizers and devotees to the cause of union with the Roman Church from among the clerical and lay leaders of the Christian communities in Syrian cities. The missionaries were particularly successful among the merchants of Aleppo and Saida who did business with Europeans, and among the local clergymen who resented the authority of the Church of Constantinople over them. By 1724, many Antiochene dignitaries had turned unequivocally Uniate. After this the Greek Orthodox establishment began to take increasingly severe measures against the Uniates, with due support from the central government. This reaction reached its peak in the 1750s and continued on and off for the rest of the century. Many a Uniate Melchite felt forced to leave for Egypt, where the authority of the Orthodox Church was relatively weak and business prospects good. Others left for the Mountain, where another Uniate Catholic community, the Maronites, had already become well established. The schism within the Christian ranks eventually led to the formation of a separate Greek Catholic Church in Syria, which the Ottoman authorities formally recognized in 1847. In the 1860s, the members of this church constituted about eight percent of the Mountain's population and the majority of Zahla's.[13]

There was also a Greek Orthodox population in the Mountain. Kura, close to Tripoli, was and remained predominantly Greek Orthodox. But the Greek Orthodox Arabs were basically an urban element in the area, as were the Sunnis. In Tripoli, Saida, and the Kharrub hills overlooking Saida, the Sunni Muslims were a clear majority and the Orthodox Christians the second important group, although most of the latter in Saida appear to have turned Uniate in the eighteenth century.[14] In Beirut also, the overwhelming majority of the population was either Sunni or Orthodox and remained so well into the nineteenth century.[15] Since the cities were the linchpins of the Ottoman ruling system,[16] the dominance of Muslim and Christian orthodoxies in urban centers is not surprising. The Orthodox Church was one of the most powerful institutions in the Ottoman system, and it cooperated with the central government in perpetuating Istanbul's hegemony over as broad a network of cities as possible, and hence over the hinterlands controlled by these cities. In other words, the "East" incorporated East Roman Christianity as much as it did the Mus-


lims of the Ottoman State for a considerable period. As this alliance was severed in the course of the nineteenth century and the East-West dichotomy came to be seen, in the "West" as well as in the "Near East," as an antagonistic relationship between Christianity and Islam, the Greek Orthodox Arabs found themselves in an uneasy position. Partly for this reason and partly for economic reasons, a considerable number of Greek Orthodox Christians moved from the Syrian interior to Beirut and some to the Mountain. In the 1860s they made up about 13 percent of the Mountain's population.[17] But by that time the Mountain itself had become a hotbed of sectarian fights as a result of developments that sapped the foundations of the political balance initiated by Amir Fakhr al-Din Ma'n.


During Amir Fakhr al-Din's long rule (1593–1633), a group of chieftains had established themselves quite firmly as quasi-feudal tax-collectors and administrators in the central and southern parts of the Mountain and the Wadi al-Taim. While these chieftains were mostly Druze, they also included non-Druze such as the Maronite Khazins and Hubaishes in Kisrawan and the Sunni Shihabs in Wadi al-Taim. The vested interests thus created, combined with Fakhr al-Din's legacy, enabled the Ma'ns to remain in charge. Quite understandably, this area began to be called the "Druze Mountain."[18]

Some of the Druze warlords, mostly led by the 'Alam al-Dins and the Arslans, challenged the Ma'ns at times, but to little effect. Likewise, the Ottoman governors of Saida and Damascus took advantage of the differences between Druze chieftains to keep them in check, but as a rule they recognized the autonomy of the Druze Mountain under the Ma'ns. The power relationships initiated by Fakhr al-Din became self-generating and acquired a systemic quality, despite the occasionally bitter struggles to renegotiate and readjust them. This political regime is known as the amirate (imâra ) period in Lebanese history, for the official title of Amir Fakhr al-Din was adopted as a distinction of high nobility by all his descendants as well and attributed even to his ancestors. Members of other families considered to be the Ma'ns' equals by Druze traditions, such as the 'Alam al-Dins and the Arslans, also adopted the title of amir, which came to imply princedom in the Lebanese political idiom.[19]

The amirate of the Ma'ns came to an end in 1697, when Fakhr al-Din's only male successor, his youngest son Husain Ma'n, chose to remain in Istanbul, where he had been brought up and had risen to a senior position in the Ottoman bureaucracy.[20] The amirate regime continued, however, under the leadership of a new family, the Shihabs, whom the Druze


Mountain chieftains chose as successors to the Ma'ns. The 'Alam al-Dins challenged this decision, but in 1711 the Shihabs and their supporters defeated the 'Alam al-Din party at 'Ain Dara and ousted them from the Mountain. The expelled Druze settled in Hauran and eventually established their own "Druze Mountain" there—in present-day southwestern Syria. In the Mountain, the enclaves were redistributed according to the new balance of power that emerged among the chieftains after 'Ain Dara. The Abi-l-Lama's, the Junblats, and the 'Imads, along with the Shihabs, were the main beneficiaries of the new arrangements. The Arslans' holdings, however, were significantly reduced.

For over a hundred years after 'Ain Dara, the Shihabs remained the paramount clan of the old "Druze Mountain" without a serious internal or external challenge. Under the Shihabs the amirate regime struck firmer roots, and from about the 1760s onward expanded to cover the northern parts of the Mountain—that is, the original "Mount Lebanon." Earlier in the century, the Himada family of Ba'lbak and 'Akkar had collected the taxes of "Mount Lebanon" on behalf of the governors of Tripoli. With the assistance of the Shihabs and the intervention of the governor of Damascus, the sheikhs of "Mount Lebanon" ended the Himadas' control and gave their allegiance to the Shihabs. "Mount Lebanon" remained within the jurisdiction of Tripoli and the "Druze Mountain" within Saida's, but until 1807 two different Shihabi amirs were usually responsible for these two regions, reflecting the intensification of ties between the north and the south during the amirate period.

An intricate network of influential families sustained the amirate regime. These stood in a hierarchical relationship to one another, defined by each family's inherited social status and its actual power at any given time. Certain fixed titles (amîr, muqaddam , chieftain-sheikh, and village-sheikh, in descending order) rooted in the military-administrative history of the Mountain proclaimed the inherited status of the families. A conventional code of behavior defined the rights and privileges of the families by their titles and regulated marriage and other relations between them. The code clearly justified social stratification and facilitated the circulation of power within the ruling stratum. The actual distribution of power, however, depended not so much on title as on the agricultural resources controlled by a family and its ability to use these resources without being divided within itself.

Control of resources involved, above all, possessing a muqâta'a . In Ottoman practice, muqâta'a expressed the claim to a specific state revenue farmed out to an individual for a specific period of time. In the eighteenth century, it was commonplace to assign to capable individuals, on a lifetime


basis, the agricultural taxes due from an area, along with the task of maintaining the public security within it. These tax-farmers operated within a hierarchical network of provincial power magnates but under certain restrictions imposed by a centrally coordinated high-cultural, judicial, financial, and military-administrative setup. The Mountain was linked to this network, but peripherally so. There, tax-farming evolved in a rather peculiar way, and the so-called muqâta'a-jis , or "tax farmers," were able to establish themselves more firmly and autonomously than their colleagues elsewhere.[21]

To a considerable extent, the Mountain's isolation and tortuous terrain protected the autonomy of its magnates and enabled them to strike deep roots on its different hills. The Shihabs were recognized as the overarching tax-farmers first in the "Druze Mountain" and then also in the northern parts of the Mountain. They exercised this privilege directly only in certain areas, and elsewhere apportioned it to other powerful families of various social ranks. These muqâta'as often corresponded to the sharply separated enclaves (iqlîms ) and subdistricts of the Mountain and were considered the hereditary domain of the families in charge. In general, the muqâta'ajis enjoyed the support of the peasants who worked in quasi-feudal dependence on them. There was some objective ground for this support; as discussed earlier, these peasant families had long-term vested interests in the land they worked. The terraces they built and the trees and vines they planted made their lives more firmly fixed than those of the dry-agriculture lowland peasants. These circumstances and the importance of cooperation in their agricultural activities called for a stable leadership that could provide reasonably long-term security and also arbitrate disputes with sufficient moral and political authority.[22]

That the overlords belonged to prestigious lineages helped to enhance their authority, particularly when their followers believed themselves descended from common ancestral origins, as was largely true with the Druze peasants—though by no means peculiar to them.[23] Even when this was not the case, the overlords still acted as custodians of the moral and religious traditions of the communities living on their muqâta'as . Thus both Druze and Maronite lords endowed land for the construction and maintenance of churches and monasteries for the Maronite peasants whom they encouraged to settle their domains.[24] A close relationship developed between religious and secular heads, who sometimes belonged to the same family. Thus the Junblats, who were late-comers to the Mountain, owed their hard-earned prestige as much to the fact that 'Ali Junblat, the architect of the family's power base, was a great sage, one of the 'uqqâl , as well as a successful military-political leader.[25] Likewise, the Khazins


produced many of the Maronite prelates, including several patriarchs.[26] The muqâta'ajis were so concerned to maintain a moral authority over the communities under their rule that they sometimes converted to Maronite Christianity. Thus the Druze Abi-l-Lama's of Matn turned Maronite as Matn became overwhelmingly Maronite in time. A branch of the Shihabi family likewise converted to Maronite Christianity, and a few of the amirs toyed with the idea in order to enhance their influence over their Maronite followers.[27] The moral and political authority of the muqâta'ajis , combined with their socioeconomic position, helped them become entrenched in the enclaves under their control.

Struggles within and between the muqâta'aji families, however, tended to weaken their hold on their domains. Although the claim of a family over a specific muqâta'a was accepted as hereditary by the conventions of the Mountain, this principle was not entirely unchallengeable. (Indeed, contrary to the impression given in many historical accounts, the amirate represents a dynamic, changing pattern of relationships.) The more powerful families could clearly establish patronage over others, if not actually take over their domain. Families that were unable to maintain a united leadership were particularly vulnerable to external manipulation. Since the muqâta'a was accepted as the domain of the family, an incumbent muqâta'aji could be challenged by other members of the family, or the domain could be divided among his heirs. Successive splits could, in a few generations, reduce the members of the family to mere village sheikhs, even if they continued to bear lofty titles. The frequency of fatal confrontations between close relatives underlined the importance of maintaining a united leadership within the muqâta'aji families.[28]

A particularly successful family in this regard was the Junblats. They were only chieftains, and had acquired even that status only after 'Ain Dara, in 1711, but they developed themselves into the richest and most powerful family of the Mountain. Their rise clearly challenged some of the other muqâta'ajis , as witnessed by the emergence of the so-called "Yazbaki" alliance against the Junblats. The Yazbaki-Junblati struggle provided a dyadic pattern to the power struggles in the Mountain. All notable families and rival factions within families aligned themselves with either one side or the other, as dictated by their interests at any particular time. To a certain extent, shifts from one faction to the other helped maintain the balance and hence the status quo. The dyadic pattern of the rivalries also enabled the ruling amirs to act as arbiters between the conflicting parties in a way that reinforced the paramountcy of the Shihabi house over other families. The Shihabs were not immune from problems of succession, however. A Shihabi claimant to the amirate was hence left with little


choice but to seek the support of other notables and magnates, who could effectively determine the outcome of a contest insofar as they could reach a consensus among themselves. If they failed to do so, the governors of Saida and Tripoli, and under certain circumstances also the governor of Damascus, would get involved to settle the matter. After all, it was the governors who invested the amir, in the name of the sultan, with the authority to oversee the affairs of the Mountain.[29] Such intervention did not always prove advantageous to the mountaineers' collective interests and internal stability.

It is apparent that while certain centripetal forces kept the magnates of the Mountain together, there were also centrifugal forces dividing them. Their common interests vis-à-vis both the peasant families and the neighboring power centers pulled them together. The legacy of Fakhr al-Din Ma'n provided a model for cooperation, and recognition of this model by the representatives of Ottoman authority enhanced its legitimacy. The Shihabi family emerged as primus inter pares around which other magnate families moved. A code of social interaction guided the formal relations between them and distinguished them from the rest of the society. A balance of power took form among the families, as each struck roots in distinct, easily defensible, and basically self-enclosed enclaves where fixed socioeconomic relations defined the social landscape. Shifting alliances maintained the balance, as certain families increased their relative power for one reason or another. Recognition of the ruling amir's arbitration authority helped to diffuse tensions and reinforced his centrality in the regime. Centralized administrative institutions and regular enforcement powers on which the amir could rely to impose his authority were absent, however. The fragmented and decentralized nature of the regime, and of the social structure in which it was nested, prevented concentration of the resources necessary to build an institutionalized political center.[30] Under these circumstances, the amirate remained a regime of shifting parapolitical alliances and counteralliances of influential families and family factions that controlled the human and material resources of the Mountain's various districts and subdistricts.

Winds of Change

One of the developments toward the end of the eighteenth century that altered the balance of forces in the Mountain was the increasing commercialization of its economy and its consequent dependence on the outside world. Above all, the rising demand for the Mountain's raw silk in inland towns, as well as in Egypt and France, engendered a steady increase in the amount of land planted in the mulberry trees used in sericulture. Vine-


yards and olive groves enjoyed a similar expansion, all at the expense of land devoted to cereal crops.[31] By the early nineteenth century, only 35–40 percent of the grain consumed in the Mountain was locally produced; the rest was imported from inland Syria and Egypt.[32] Despite the high cost of transportation for imported food, the net proceeds from the sale of raw silk and other cash crops were apparently sufficient to encourage the mountaineers to make the shift.

Another development that stimulated commercial transactions was the growing importance of maritime trade along the Syrian coast. Akka (Acre) was the main beneficiary of this boom. Zahir al-'Umar, the powerful magnate of Palestine from 1746 to 1775, was the first to develop Akka into a major port at the expense of Saida. As Zahir became engaged in a protracted struggle with the potentates of Saida, the Shihabi amirs of the Mountain took advantage of the situation to bring Beirut into the fold of the amirate, in 1748, and siphon off some of Damascus's trade with Egypt and Europe. Zahir responded by laying siege to Beirut in 1773, but he was defeated and eventually killed.[33]

Cezzar Ahmed (Jazzar Ahmad), an adventurer-soldier who had excelled in the battles against Zahir, was appointed governor of the Saida province in return for his services. Using Akka as his seat and power base, he quickly brought not only Beirut but also Tripoli under his direct rule. He then set himself up as the monopolistic overseer of all coastal trade, much to the discomfiture of the merchants and potentates of inland Syria. Yet his cautious relations with Istanbul, and the glory he earned by successfully defending Akka against Bonaparte's powerful army in 1799, made Cezzar irreplaceable. Until his death in 1804, he remained the most powerful magnate in the area.[34]

His policies did not reverse the trend of commercialization in the Mountain, but he was able to extract much of the proceeds. By playing the rival factions of the amirate against one another, he collected much higher sums from the mountaineers than their normal tax burden. While this indicates the vulnerability of the amirate to the manipulations of a powerful and ruthless governor, it also attests to the growing capacity of the Mountain's economy to generate cash.[35] Indeed, when the moderate Süleyman Pasha replaced Cezzar as governor of Saida-Akka, from 1804 to 1818, the Mountain enjoyed a visible prosperity, spectacularly represented by the splendid mansion its increasingly powerful amir, Bashir Shihab II, built for himself in Bait ul-Din.[36]

Bashir had occupied the amirate, with intermissions, since 1788, with the indispensable support of his namesake Sheikh Bashir Junblat.[37] The cooperation between the two Bashirs reflected the changing balance of


forces in the Mountain. Sheikh Bashir, the undisputed chief of the Junblats, was by all accounts the most powerful and the richest person in the Mountain. A considerable portion of his wealth came from the silk produced on the muqâta'as run by the Junblats. The family also held muqâta'as in the grain-growing Biqa' valley, and thus had access to a ready supply of food. Cezzar's requests for cash put Sheikh Bashir in a key position as a maker of amirs. He was the only muqâta'aji who could provide an amir with ready cash, credit, and sufficient manpower to collect the additional taxes levied on the mountaineers. Sheikh Bashir used his weight to support Amir Bashir against other Shihabs. The two Bashirs then cooperated to extend the lands under their control at the expense of other muqâta'ajis . Thus, first the Abu Nakads and then the 'Imads, who had been the backbone of the Yazbaki alliance against the Junblats, were reduced to insignificance. Occasionally the opponents of the two Bashirs managed to make Cezzar appoint other Shihabs to the amirate, but their inability to meet the pasha's requests returned Amir Bashir to power.

Cezzar's manipulations clearly played an important role in this seesaw struggle. Yet, equally clearly, the struggle acquired a dynamic of its own that was embedded in the realities of the Mountain. Amir Bashir was using his contacts with governors and Sheikh Bashir's support to build a power base for himself. In fact, it was in 1807, during Süleyman Pasha's governorship, that Bashir Shihab launched a fierce attack against his cousins, blinded them in order to end their claims to the amirate, confiscated their properties as well as muqâta'as , and killed a number of others whom he considered a threat to his authority. By 1818–19 the territories under the amir's control, which included Dair al-Qamar and muqâta'as in the Biqa', had brought him sufficient affluence and power to lead him to consider Sheikh Bashir's undoing.[38] A new development briefly postponed the impending showdown between the two partners.

In 1820, the Maronite peasants of the northern enclaves refused to pay the additional taxes that a new governor in Akka, Abdullah Pasha (1818–1832), imposed on the amirate. Their Shiite neighbors joined the action, but the Druze and the Maronite peasants of the south stayed away. Sheikh Bashir Junblat, together with a few merchants from the south and probably also the amir himself, had paid part of the surtax out of their own pockets to relieve the southern peasants of the burden. Since there were no such affluent personages in the north, the surtax was levied on the producers, thereby provoking their reaction. Indeed, the recalcitrant peasants demanded not only an end to surtaxes but also the equitable distribution of the overall tax burden, claiming that the Druze enjoyed a privi-


leged position in the system. Political issues engendered by regional and class differences had begun to take on a sectarian coloring.

The influence of the increasingly better organized, better educated, and self-confident Maronite clergy on the emergence of this trend is unmistakable. A group of young clerics who provided guidance to the peasants in 1820 believed the Church should play an active role in defense of the interests of the Maronite community.[39] As the two Bashirs dominated the amirate at a cost felt more heavily in the predominantly Maronite north than in the Druze-dominated south, the Church began to move into the political arena as an advocate of popular grievances. Amir Bashir would eventually ally himself with this new force, but in 1820–22 he showed no sympathy for the clerics' involvement in politics. He had the leading cleric involved, Bishop Yusuf Istafan, poisoned. He also repressed the resistance by force and collected the taxes levied on the peasants, with due support from Sheikh Bashir and the sheikh's Druze retainers.

No sooner had the amir reasserted his authority than developments external to the Mountain confronted him with new challenges and revealed the deepening breach between him and Sheikh Bashir. Since Cezzar's days, the potentates of the coastal lands had held Damascus and other inland towns largely under their sway by monopolizing the coastal trade. In 1822 the governors of Damascus and Aleppo joined forces to break this monopoly, and laid siege to Akka. So far, both Bashirs has cooperated with the coastal party perforce, as clients of the potentates of Akka and also because the cooperation served their interests well. At this juncture, however, the two Bashirs parted. The sheikh negotiated an agreement with the governor of Damascus to keep the Mountain out of the conflict. The amir remained loyal to Abdullah, the governor of Akka, and left for Egypt. A new amir, invested in his position by the governor of Damascus, took charge of the Mountain under Sheikh Bashir's wings.

Briefly, the sheikh appeared to have outwitted the amir, but the latter proved to be politically the shrewder of the two, for yet another rising force in the region tipped the balance in favor of Abdullah Pasha. Mehmed Ali (Muhammad 'Ali), the governor of Egypt, persuaded Istanbul to order the lifting of the siege against Akka. Amir Bashir returned to the Mountain triumphantly. The sheikh tried in vain to make peace with him. An all-out confrontation between the supporters of the amir and those of the sheikh became unavoidable. In 1825, the two sides joined battle at Mukhtara. The artillery and gunners that Abdullah Pasha had put at the amir's disposal decided the outcome. The leading Junblats and some of their supporters were forced to leave the Mountain for Hauran. Sheikh Bashir him-


self was eventually captured and was killed in the dungeons of Akka. Bashir Shihab confiscated Sheikh Bashir's property and redistributed the muqâta'as among his own supporters, keeping the lion's share for himself and his sons.[40]

With the sheikh out of the way, Amir Bashir became the focal point of the Mountain's politics, more tangibly so than any of his predecessors except Fakhr al-Din. But Fakhr al-Din had really been the governor of the coast, and as such in the same category with Cezzar Ahmed Pasha, Süleyman Pasha, and Abdullah Pasha, whereas Amir Bashir was simply the ruler of the Mountain.[41] He had always been a client of the governors of the coast and dependent on them to rule the Mountain, and he continued to be so to the end of his career. Amir Bashir was able to capitalize on the changes taking place in and around the Mountain, however, to become a stronger ruler than his predecessors. The economy could now generate more cash to sustain a somewhat greater degree of centralization. Indeed, the guards, scribes, and other retainers in the amir's employ increased as he extended the territories under his control. His mansion became more like a government palace. Here he convened meetings, settled disputes, and attended to administrative business. He was also able to appoint and dismiss the muqâta'ajis virtually at will. Although the incumbent muqâta'ajis continued to enjoy territorial autonomy and the notable families retained a privileged social status, their authority became visibly marginalized vis-à-vis not only the amir but also the Maronite Church.

With a new patriarch, Ilias Hubaish (1823–1845), at the helm, the Church had reconciled its differences with Bashir Shihab just before the critical Mukhtara battle.[42] The amir, who practiced Sunni Islam in public and Christianity in private, allowed a Maronite priest to take charge of his spiritual life. In return, the patriarch used all the weight of the church to successfully rally the Maronite muqâta'ajis and sheikhs behind the amir, in the name of communal solidarity and interests. So far, all major political confrontations in the Mountain had been cross-sectarian. In Mukhtara, as well, there were Druze and Shiite chieftains fighting on both sides, but the Maronites concentrated their support on one side alone. This was a novel development. Sectarian sensitivities, already evoked during the peasant resistance of 1820–21, found vivid expression in Mukhtara.

After Mukhtara, the cooperation between the Church and the amir continued, enabling the Church to expand its organization, land possessions, and influence. As the Maronite peasants turned to the Church in increasing numbers for protection against oppressive taxation, the Church became the main mouthpiece of and principal power-broker within the


Maronite community. The amir relied on the Church to keep the northern districts under control. Furthermore, the Church's support provided the amir's rule with a moral legitimacy at a time when the leading lineages, which had hitherto been the main pillars of the Shihabi amirate, were fast becoming alienated from it, given the marginalization of their authority. Since most of the leading notables were Druze, and Amir Bashir's new source of political support self-consciously Maronite, the unfolding social cleavages in the Mountain began more than ever to loom as a sectarian issue. Perhaps the amir could have worked out a new social reconciliation that would have based the amirate on firmer ground, in accordance with the changing circumstances, assuming that he had the state-building qualities attributed to him by some of his modern admirers. But Mehmed Ali's invasion of Syria in 1831, and the consequent concentration of international attention on the Mountain, complicated its problems and rendered their resolution a challenge beyond the means of any amir.

International Rivalries and Sectarian Strife

Keeping the growing economic ties between Egypt and Syria undisturbed was clearly a major concern for Mehmed Ali. Despite the protection he provided Abdullah Pasha against the governors of Aleppo and Damascus, Akka proved to be a trouble spot in Egypt's relations with Syria. In the late 1820s, Abdullah took advantage of the deepening cleavage between Cairo and Istanbul to dissociate himself from Mehmed Ali's patronage. He then used Akka's strategic and well-fortified position to maximize his share of Syrian–Egyptian trade. He taxed or attacked caravans operating between Cairo and Damascus, and imposed high levies on Beirut and the Mountain.[43]

Abdullah's attitude, combined with the threatening position Sultan Mahmud II had adopted toward Egypt, prompted Mehmed Ali to order his forces into Syria, under the command of his son Ibrahim Pasha. In 1831 Ibrahim lay siege to Akka, beginning an all-out struggle between the sultan and the pasha of Egypt that lasted ten long years and eventually involved all the major powers of Europe. Once Akka fell, in May 1832, Ibrahim Pasha quickly established his authority in coastal and inland Syria and then smoothly advanced to Kütahya, near Istanbul. Mehmed Ali restrained Ibrahim's march to Istanbul and begged the sultan to yield to a reasonable agreement. But Mahmud was adamant. He asked the Russians for help, contrary to the advice of prominent ulama and ministers, as well as Mehmed Ali, against involving outsiders in an internal dispute of the Empire. Russian troops began taking positions along the Bosphorus to defend Istanbul. Other European powers became alarmed lest Istanbul fall


under Russian influence. Mahmud himself had actually hoped to rely not on the Russians, but on the British, in his struggle against Mehmed Ali. British help, however, was slow in coming, and with many strings attached to it.

While his envoys negotiated with the British, Mahmud signed a treaty with Mehmed Ali that put Syria under Ibrahim's rule. But Mahmud never took the treaty seriously and speeded up his military reorganization with the barely concealed goal of punishing Mehmed Ali and his son. They, in turn, felt obliged to be ever-ready for a new war against the sultan. Both sides loaded the people under their rule with the heavy burden of their military preparations. Meanwhile, Mahmud signed the 1838 Trade Convention with the British, and later in the same year signed similar treaties with the French, Russians, and Austrians. According to these treaties (and others supplementing them in 1838–41), all local monopolies and protectionist trade restrictions were to be abolished for European merchants and their agents. Also, special tribunals were to be created for the settlement of commercial disputes that involved Europeans.

Now Mehmed Ali was doomed. If he offered similar terms to Europeans, his protectionist economic policy would collapse; if he did not, it would be impossible for him to withstand an assault of the European powers and Istanbul. He tried to follow a middle course by relaxing the tariffs applied to European merchants but failed to reverse the commitment Great Britain, Austria, Russia, and Prussia had made to back the sultan. The French, who had close technical, economic, and diplomatic ties with Egypt, remained officially neutral. French businessmen, missionaries, and diplomats in the area, however, actively abetted allied efforts to foment local resistance to Ibrahim's rule. In 1841, a joint British, Austrian, and Ottoman campaign, supported by local militia, finally drove Ibrahim's forces back to Egypt. Akka's fortifications were demolished in the process, as were the high tariff restrictions its potentates had been able to impose on maritime trade over the previous sixty years or so. An era of free trade, regulated by the 1838–41 conventions, now began, and along with it the predominance of Beirut over the neighboring ports.[44]

The decline of Saida and then the successive sieges of Akka had already drawn several merchant families and trading agencies to Beirut. The trend continued during Ibrahim Pasha's rule: Beirut became the main port through which Syria's trade with Egypt and Europe flowed. The volume of trade showed a remarkable increase in a short period of time, though the regulations favored Egypt's interests. Simultaneously, the Beirut-Zahla road developed into a major commercial artery, enabling the people living on the nearby hills to become more actively involved in the produc-


tion of cash crops and other commodities. Ibrahim's government encouraged this development. Under his aegis, numerous mulberry and olive trees and grapevines were planted in the Mountain, and the producers were provided with credit and an assured market to make the shift to cash crops. All these activities engendered a visible prosperity.

The Druze shared little in this prosperity—for from the very beginning their leaders agitated against Egyptian rule and opposed Amir Bashir, who put himself in Ibrahim Pasha's service. Ibrahim and the amir dispersed the recalcitrant Druze leaders, confiscated their property, disarmed the Druze remaining in the Mountain, and forcibly recruited many of them to serve in the army. The displaced and the deserters moved to Hauran, as in the past, and kept the resistance alive. In an effort to end this trouble, Ibrahim dispatched to Hauran in 1837–38 a force that included a large Maronite volunteer contingent under Amir Bashir's command. Ibrahim's assumption was that the Maronite mountaineers would be more successful than Egyptian regular troops in guerilla warfare in a mountainous region. Indeed they were, but for a different reason. The Druze fighters abandoned hostilities for fear their helpless kinsmen and families back in the Mountain might later be harmed by the armed Maronites. Mutual suspicions between the two communities were clearly deepening.[45]

Once he had repressed the Druze rebellion, Ibrahim Pasha attempted to disarm the Maronites; he was met with a stiff resistance that turned into open rebellion in May 1840. The times had changed. Rising expectations engendered by the prosperity of the previous years were stifled by an increasingly heavy tax burden. Confidence in the future of the Egyptian regime was on the wane. In 1839, a new sultan in Istanbul had promulgated a new regime of reforms, the tanzîmât . He promised fair taxation, elimination of the tax-farming system, an end to monopolistic practices and trade restrictions, security of property and life, and the equitable treatment of all subjects before the law, irrespective of their creed. Ottoman and British agents were active in Syria explaining the changes, encouraging resistance to Ibrahim's rule, and promising support.

Ibrahim was still well in control in Syria, and, at first, assisted by Amir Bashir, he had little trouble in suppressing the Maronite resistance. But the movement was popular and persistent. The Church, although initially reluctant, put its weight behind the resisters, and the French in the area followed suit. When the Ottoman troops landed in Beirut with allied naval support in September 1840, Ibrahim had already lost the Mountain. Combined with the renewed guerilla attacks of the Druze in Hauran, this loss turned the retreat of the Egyptian troops into a nightmare.[46] The moun-


taineers had played a key role in Ibrahim's defeat and now expected the European powers and the Ottoman government to return the favor in the form of an administration that suited their interests. However, those interests were deeply divided.

As Amir Bashir left the Mountain along with the Egyptian troops, a power vacuum developed in his wake. His personal authority had not created an enduring administrative structure, whatever the extent of the institutionalization that had taken place over the past two decades or so. In the predominantly Maronite enclaves of the north, now including Kisrawan and Matn, the Church readily filled the vacuum. The Church's expedient decision to back the resistance against Ibrahim, and hence against Amir Bashir, had concluded its long rise to the undisputed leadership of the Maronite community. The Church remained loyal to the notion of a Shihabi amirate, provided the amir was from the Maronite branch of the family. It also advocated formation of an advisory council to represent the different religious communities and regions of the Mountain and assist the amir in administrative matters. The Church's own organization and the experience of the popular resistance movements of 1820–21 and 1840–41 were the sources of inspiration for this idea. The patriarch was assisted by a Church Council composed of the bishops of different regions, and the activities of the widespread Maronite monasteries were coordinated in a similar way. Within this hierarchical organization, the bishops and the heads of individual monasteries enjoyed significant autonomy. In the popular resistance movements, a similar structure of coordination had emerged from the bottom up. Representatives of individual villages had delegated their authority to regional representatives who coordinated the movement.[47]

In a land physically divided within itself, where communications posed a crucial problem, the representation and delegation of authority as a basis for coordination and control made much sense. Clearly, the organizational power of the Maronite religious hierarchy had enabled the Church to succeed where the amirate had failed; that is, it fostered institutionalization in the face of serious physical obstacles. The popular resistance movements were temporary incidents, by their nature, but they showed the way to mass mobilization and the creation of a "mass society" that was necessary for the developing market economy. In the Church's organization as well as in the peasant movements, however, the compelling force of religious solidarity as a pseudo-political ideology had been as indispensable as practical ideas of organization. In the 1840s the Church appears to have intended to rely on the same ideological instrument, perhaps with due adaptations, in the reorganization of the Shihabi amirate.[48] The Druze


notables, however, did not even want to hear about a Maronite Shihabi amir. In appreciation of the role the Druze had played in undermining Cairo's authority, both the Ottomans and the British had promised to restore confiscated Druze estates. But as the leading Druze notables returned to the Mountain to reclaim the estates they considered their own, they often found themselves pitted against cultivators who believed the land was theirs and refused to be considered as tenants.[49] Changing perceptions of proprietorship were an important dimension of this dispute.

In the Mountain, as elsewhere in the Empire until about the mid-nineteenth century, absolute proprietorship was not the norm that governed the legal status of agricultural lands. The basic ownership of these lands belonged to the imperial government, although the cultivators enjoyed full usufruct rights as long as they fulfilled their basic tax obligations. There were also lands that were recognized as the "private property" (mulk ) of individuals. From the Ottoman jurists' point of view, conversion of government lands to private lands should foster the "public benefit." Under the muqâta'a system, for instance, an incumbent muqâta'aji would be allowed to keep certain estates as his private property, partly in recompense for his administrative services and partly to encourage the development of undercultivated lands in order to increase the overall tax revenue. Thus the lands on which the Maronite (and later the Greek Catholic) colonies were settled in the southern and central parts of the Mountain could be conceived as the private estates of the muqâta'ajis who sponsored these settlements. The right of ownership of a private estate was inheritable and entitled its holder to a rent, but it did not represent an absolute proprietorship in the modern sense of the term. There often existed parallel and equally legitimate claims on the same land on the basis of usufruct rights, which were normally inalienable, and rights stemming from additions made to the land, such as terraces, trees, and buildings. Similar complications occurred on endowed lands (waqf property). Thus the most richly endowed institution in the Mountain, the Maronite Church and its monasteries, owed a certain share of the produce from some of its endowed lands to the heirs of the original endowers. The peasants who worked these lands, along with the monks, also had rights as well as obligations vis-à-vis the Church.

Local custom and oral and written agreements had regulated the mutual rights and obligations of the parties involved in these complex cases of ownership in a fashion that prevented major upheavals and confrontations over land disputes until the beginning of the nineteenth century. Thereafter, intense power struggles among the muqâta'ajis themselves, confiscations and redistribution of property, forced evacuations and con-


scription, and new settlements seriously ruptured the existing land-tenure relationships. Local custom became blurred, agreements were reinterpreted in the light of new power relations, new arrangements were made—and last but not least, the concept of multiple ownership of land became increasingly antiquated. The commercialization of the Mountain's economy clearly generated a trend toward the commercialization of agricultural land that necessitated disentanglement and consolidation of these multifold rights to land.[50]

Such typical developments in the transition to a market economy rarely occur without serious social strife. In the Mountain, the power vacuum prevailing in 1840–41, and the hard feelings that had developed between the Maronite and Druze communities in recent years, aggravated the problem. At one extreme, some of the Druze muqâta'ajis , burdened by the debts they had incurred during their absence or period of political weakness, claimed proprietorship of certain lands based on questionable legal grounds and imposed harsh conditions on the mostly Christian cultivators of these lands. At the other extreme, some of the Maronite clergy encouraged their flock to defy even the rightful claims of the Druze muqâta'ajis and other displaced Druze. Even when there was good will, the complexity of the claims blighted hopes for a peaceful reconciliation. Land disputes heightened susceptibilities to sectarian appeal. In 1841 the disagreements between the two communities, both of which were armed to the teeth, turned into a civil war, leaving behind a deep blood feud.[51]

In order to bring the situation under control, the Ottoman government attempted to attach the Mountain directly to the Province of Saida, the seat of which had been appropriately moved to Beirut. This arrangement satisfied neither the Druze nor the Maronites, for both groups wanted autonomy, although they totally disagreed on its form. Holding the British and the Ottomans responsible for bringing the Druze back, the Church turned to France for help in reconstituting the Shihabi amirate. The Druze appealed to the British to protect their rights against such a development. In Beirut, the general consuls of the two powers found themselves advocating the points of view of different communities as they vied for political influence in an increasingly sensitive area. Their Austrian and Russian colleagues responded by seeking influence over the Greek Catholic and Greek Orthodox communities, respectively. In a sense, the consuls' concern for diplomatic advantage contributed to solidifying the sectarian lines in the Mountain and emphasized the sectarian dimension of its problems. All diplomatic representatives agreed, however, not to let the Ottoman government try to solve the issue of its own accord.

In 1842 the French, British, Russian, Austrian, and Prussian ambassa-


dors to Istanbul met with the Ottoman foreign minister to seek an agreeable solution to the problems of the Mountain, and in so doing they set a precedent. In the meeting, the parties involved realized that they agreed only on the irreconcilability of the Druze and Maronite positions. Consequently, they decided to divide the Mountain into two qâimaqâmiyyas , or districts, one in the north under a Maronite district governor (qâimaqâm ) and the other in the south under a Druze district governor. The Beirut-Zahla road formed the rough boundary between the two districts.[52]

In 1845 the Ottoman foreign minister, Sekib Efendi, after long consultations and negotiations with the local parties and foreign diplomats, drafted an elaborate set of regulations for operation of the two districts. These regulations, revised in 1850, were the first systematic attempt to provide the Mountain with a bureaucratic governmental structure. The most significant measure was the establishment of an advisory council to assist each district governor, each council to consist of six judges and six advisors representing the six major communities. The judges were to settle the disputes brought before them by the district governors; the advisors were to assist the district governors on matters of taxation, which was not to exceed a fixed sum and was to be conducted according to a procedure designed to protect the villagers against arbitrary exactions.[53]

This arrangement introduced confessional representation as a constitutional principle into Lebanese public life. It also provided the Mountain's political leadership with experience in the procedures and problems of a bureaucratic government. As such, it prepared the ground for establishment of the mutasarrifiyya regime. Separation of the Mountain into two districts, however, proved an ineffectual remedy for its problems. In 1845, and again in 1850, smoldering anxieties and grudges re-erupted into armed confrontations between the Maronite and Greek Catholic Christians and the Druze in the religiously mixed enclaves. These were the occasions that prompted the Sekib Efendi regulations and their revision. Refinement of the model helped little in restoring peace and order. Neither district governor, let alone the councils, was able to exert much authority over the lords of the hills or over the Church, which controlled the northern hills and wielded influence wherever the Maronites lived. The Church continued to agitate for the restoration of a Christian Shihabi amirate in the entire Mountain, and the French Consulate backed its demands. Wary of French ambitions, the British chose to play a balancing act, putting their weight against opposing ideas and people. Other consuls continuously shifted their positions according to their governments' current relations with France and Great Britain. The Ottoman officials in Beirut,


who were blamed by all for anything and everything that went wrong in the Mountain, drifted along with increasing frustration.[54]

Meanwhile, in many parts of the Mountain, erstwhile muqâta'ajis , Druze and Maronite alike, made desperate efforts to safeguard their interests. They blocked an Ottoman attempt to conduct a cadastral survey as a preliminary step toward the proper registration of land.[55] They also assumed full proprietorship of as many lands as possible within their reach and imposed ever-harsher tenancy conditions on the cultivators. In this regard, the Khazin sheikhs of Kisrawan appear to have been particularly oppressive. Beyond any doubt, their actions eroded whatever respect the Kisrawanis still showed this oldest and most prestigious Maronite muqâta'aji house. In 1858–59 the Kisrawani peasants rose against the Khazins and their allies, drove them away, and confiscated their property. The Khazins' downfall eliminated the last serious rival to the Church's authority over the Maronite community. It also heartened the villages in other areas farther south to take a stand against the muqâta'ajis . Even the Druze peasants showed signs of restiveness.[56]

Once again, however, the commotion quickly turned into sectarian confrontations in the mixed areas. Here the wounds of former battles were fresh, the lords were predominantly Druze, and those wronged by their deeds were mainly Maronite Christians. The clerics played a leading role in mobilizing the Maronites for an all-out struggle that they intended to be not against the muqâta'ajis alone, but the Druze at large. They taunted the Druze and made little secret of their dream of a Maronite amirate under French protection. Once the issue turned into a sectarian challenge, the Druze notables had little trouble rallying their co-religionists in and around the Mountain. They also looked for help and sympathy from other Muslims as a counterweight to the Maronite appeals for Christian support.[57] The religious war cries of the two sides did not bode well at a time when certain segments of the Muslim population in Syria were visibly disturbed by the changes taking place in their lives.

The open-door policy of the Ottoman government since 1838 had put Europeans and their local associates in a distinctly advantageous position in economic relations, rendering the native merchants, landed notables, and artisans dependent on them for credit and business opportunities. Many artisans had already gone bankrupt and fallen into misery, unable to compete against cheap European commodities. These circumstances affected the Muslim majority and non-Muslim minorities alike, but the latter were better disposed and, in certain ways, better prepared to adapt to the changing circumstances. In any event, the native beneficiaries of Eu-


ropean economic dominance were overwhelmingly Christian, and the Europeans themselves exhibited little sympathy for Islam or for Muslims. For a socially disoriented Muslim who looked for a simple explanation of his state, "Christians" appeared a good enough reason. The times were ripe for bigotry.[58]

In the spring of 1860, a few skirmishes between the Maronites and the Druze ignited the bloodiest sectarian confrontations to date in the Mountain. As the Maronites of the north failed to go to the aid of their co-religionists in the south, the Druze easily broke whatever resistance they encountered. They did not stop at that, however. They attacked villages and towns with ferocity. Not even the Greek Orthodox community of Wadi al-Taim escaped their anger, although unlike the Maronite and Greek Catholics, the Greek Orthodox Christians had always been friendly with the Druze and were totally unprepared for any confrontation. A few Shiites and Sunnites joined the Druze, but there is evidence that many others sympathized with them. The Ottoman troops themselves failed to stop the Druze attacks on several occasions; this failure was due as much to their unwillingness to fight fellow Muslims as to mismanagement and paucity of numbers. When the Druze had finished, about 15,000 Christians were dead and tens of thousands were homeless fugitives. No sooner had events settled in the Mountain than mobs, without any provocation attacked and pillaged the Christian quarters in Damascus.[59]

The events were a shameful blow to the reformist government in Istanbul. Fuad Pasha, the Ottoman foreign minister, was invested with special powers and rushed to Damascus, via Beirut, at the head of an Ottoman brigade. His justice was swift and harsh, meting out the severest punishment to the Ottoman officers and officials for having failed to prevent the attacks. His action drove home to the Damascenes that a new order was there to stay. He then turned his attention to the Mountain. Here the events had begun as a civil war and the Druze had been provoked. These circumstances saved the lives of the Druze leaders, but in other ways the Druze paid dearly for their conduct. Their leaders were imprisoned or fled the Mountain to avoid punishment, and a huge burden of indemnity was imposed. It would be a long time before the Druze recovered from the blow that Fuad Pasha's tribunal, or rather their own misjudgments and inability to adapt to the times, had inflicted upon them.[60]

With the Druze leadership routed, and the two district governorships in shambles, the Maronite Church emerged as the only significant institution in the Mountain, and in many ways as the true victor of the many years of turmoil. As the Maronite Church and the community had steadily expanded from the north toward the south, so had the name "Mount


Lebanon." Now the Maronite dominance was questioned by none, and the Mountain had become Mount Lebanon.

The New Regime

Mount Lebanon still needed a government, however—a government that all its people could identify with and respect. That was the next item on Fuad's agenda, but one he had to resolve with the representatives of other powers, by force of circumstances. Events in the region had created an uproar in Europe, particularly in France. Although Fuad's swift action calmed this reaction, it did not prevent the landing of a large French force in Beirut for the purpose of protecting the Maronites and other Christians. The French military presence complicated the search for a new governmental structure for Mount Lebanon because it aroused the suspicions of other powers and compromised Ottoman sovereignty.

When, in October 1860, the representatives of Great Britain, France, Russia, Austria, and Prussia sat down under Fuad's presidency in Beirut to discuss the situation, they were still more concerned about their own interests than with those of the Lebanese. As the negotiations dragged on for months, however, the participants acquired greater familiarity with the area and with the concerns and wishes of its various groups and communities. Finally, it was agreed as a matter of principle that Mount Lebanon had to be recognized as a unit and its problems dealt with in a way that would enhance this unity rather than undermine it. It was also agreed, however, not to include Beirut in Mount Lebanon. (Until 1864, Beirut remained the seat of the Province of Saida, which included Latakia, Tripoli, Nablus, and Jerusalem, in addition to Beirut and Saida. In 1864 this area was incorporated into the Province of Damascus. In 1887 the same area, except Jerusalem, once again became a province in its own right, called the Province of Beirut.)

By May 1861 the committee finally produced a draft statute that was then taken up for final revision in a meeting between the ambassadors and the Ottoman grand vizier, Âli Pasha, in Istanbul. The outcome was an organic statute called the "Règlement for the reorganization of Mount Lebanon." An international protocol signed on June 9, 1861, ratified the Règlement and also set out certain guidelines concerning its implementation.[61]

Mount Lebanon would be organized into a special Ottoman governorate, or mutasarrifiyya (see Map 2 for its boundaries.) A Christian governor was to head the mutasarrifiyya . He would be appointed by and directly responsible to the Sublime Porte (Bâb-i 'Âli , the executive headquarters of the Ottoman central government, named after the high gate



Map 2.
The Governorate of Mount Lebanon, 1861–1920 (based on Isma 'il Haqqi, ed., 
Lubnân, mabâhith 'ilmiyya wa ijtimâ'iyya , 2nd ed., Beirut, 1969–70).


used to enter the complex that housed the offices of the grand vizier).[62] A three-year term was fixed for the first governor, Davud Pasha. At the end of this term, the ambassadors would reconvene with the Ottoman foreign minister to review matters. At this meeting, held in 1864, lengthy negotiations over the proposals by Davud Pasha and others to revise the Règlement , in light of the past three years' experience, culminated in a series of important amendments. An international protocol was signed to this effect on September 6, 1864. This revised 1864 version of the Règlement remained the basic document according to which Mount Lebanon's autonomous government was constructed and run during the mutasarrifiyya period.

Although both versions of the Règlement were based on international agreements, they were promulgated in the form of an imperial decree, with the understanding that it was the responsibility of the Ottoman government to make the new order work.[63] Would the Ottomans sincerely shoulder this responsibility, which involved building a governmental framework within which the people of Mount Lebanon could reconcile their differences and heal their wounds? To that question we now turn.


Ottoman Policy and Power Relations in Mount Lebanon, 1861–1892

As early as 1850, when revising regulations governing the dual-districts regime, the Ottoman government publicly declared its policy objectives in Mount Lebanon:

As yet another sign of His Majesty's unceasing noble aspirations devoted to the gradual improvement of governmental administration, and of his judicious wishes to attend to the fulfillment of the happiness and well-being of the subjects of the Sublime State from all classes, he has bestowed a special administrative status upon the people of Mount Lebanon so that by means of its proper implementation their security and prosperity can be augmented, and so that the disputes among them can be resolved equitably, with due respect to the traditions of each community, to protect every single person from being oppressed and wronged.[1]

In a similar vein, a preface to the 1861 Règlement announced, on behalf of Sultan Abdulmecid, the reasons behind the new regulations:

It is well known to all how I have deeply grieved over the recurrence of troubles in Mount Lebanon. Foremost among my august wishes and concerns is the security and prosperity of my subjects from all classes and parts of my Sublime State's well-guarded provinces. I therefore deem it extremely important that, with God's permission, the consequences of the reported troubles be eliminated in Mount Lebanon and its people be provided with public security and order. Since the realization of these [objectives] is considered to entail the amendment and modification of the current regulations [concerning Mount Lebanon], a new set of regulations has therefore been enacted.[2]


These documents represent an effort to garb enactments resulting from international negotiations and treaties in language comprehensible to the Ottoman world and in keeping with Ottoman notions of legitimacy. Accordingly, enactments emerge as benign acts of the sovereign but also profess a personal relationship between him and his subjects. As the sole source of authority but responsible before God for the well-being of his subjects, the sultan was pictured as acting toward them with feelings of fatherly compassion. The same perception of government as a chain of patriarchal and personal relationships is expressed in the imperial decrees announcing the appointment of a new governor of Mount Lebanon.[3]

Concepts recurring in these decrees can be summarized as follows: God Almighty entrusted the sultan with the task of providing the conditions necessary for every single subject of the state to live in freedom from fear and in public security so that they could enjoy the fruits of their labor and attain prosperity. Realization of this benevolent purpose was the righteous sultan's foremost concern. Consequently, he paid the utmost attention to keeping Mount Lebanon in peace and order. This particular governor was chosen because the dexterity and discernment with which he fulfilled his previous jobs had demonstrated his capacity to serve the sultan's purposes. Within the bounds of the laws and regulations, the governor should use his experience and intelligence to improve the conditions that would contribute to the peace and prosperity of the people of Mount Lebanon, and thus elicit their blessings for the sultan. If the governor tried diligently to fulfill the task entrusted to him and obtained enduring results, other honorable duties and favors would surely be bestowed upon him.[4]

These announcements were usually read in Mount Lebanon in pompous ceremonies meant to pull the local population and leadership into the orbit of Ottoman political culture and influence.[5] As such, their documentary value lies more in the notion of government they evoke than in the information they impart about actual Ottoman policy objectives. This patriarchal concept of government, emphasizing peace and order as a fundamental requisite of legitimacy and respectability, was familiar to the people of the area and even deeply rooted in its urban centers.[6] The people of the Mountain had remained relatively marginal to this political culture, but not outsiders to it. They understood the message conveyed in the public announcements emanating from Istanbul: an invitation to the Lebanese to join more actively in the surrounding Ottoman world and a pledge on behalf of the central government to make such efforts rewarding for them.[7]

How serious and consistent were the Ottomans in their pledge? What other considerations besides the prevailing concepts of governmental le-


gitimacy and respectability affected their policy concerning Mount Lebanon? These are the questions I will deal with in this and the following chapter, with due attention to changing local, regional (or Empire-wide), and international conditions, and the power configurations and constraints that influenced Ottoman policy objectives and their implementation over the fifty-odd-year history of the mutasarrifiyya . A voluminous correspondence, including secret communications, between the governors of the Mountain and the Sublime Porte and other offices in Istanbul, provides detailed answers to these questions. This material constitutes the basis of the following discussion on the Ottomans' Lebanese policy, supplemented by information from other sources that sheds light on the constraints and the changing conditions and attitudes the Ottomans encountered in handling their Lebanese problem.

The Formative Period, 1861–1873

One of Fuad Pasha's primary concerns during his special mission to Mount Lebanon after the events of 1860 was to impress upon local leaders that his efforts to heal the wounds of the civil war and make peace between belligerent parties stemmed not from the external pressure of foreign diplomats but from Ottoman concepts of justice and sovereignty.[8] This was one of the reasons why Fuad personally presided over Davud Pasha's initiation into office as the first governor of the mutasarrifiyya . On this occasion, Grand Vizier Âli Pasha praised his close companion Fuad for having finally settled the matter "in accordance with the Sultanate's dignity and right of sovereignty," thanks to Fuad's "perseverance and sagacity."[9]

During Davud's governorship (1861–1868), the central government earnestly backed his efforts to restore peace and establish a new order in Mount Lebanon. Indemnities were paid to victims of the civil war out of the central Treasury.[10] Additional funds were allotted to Mount Lebanon to establish a regular law enforcement agency, called the gendarmerie, which was manned by the Lebanese according to the Règlement and organized along military lines to maintain security and order in the countryside.[11] The Porte also made available to the Lebanese tax exemptions, special credit opportunities, and similar incentives to help repair the damage done to Mount Lebanon's economy by the civil war.[12] Taxes levied on livestock and cereals in the western Biqa' valley, which remained within the jurisdiction of the Province of Damascus, were put under Davud's administration in order to alleviate food shortages in Mount Lebanon.[13]

Not everyone appreciated Istanbul's efforts to restore life to normal. In the northernmost parts of the Mountain, a popular opposition began to form against Davud from the very outset of his governorship, in reaction


to his decision to collect taxes at the highest rates permitted by the Règlement and his attempts to centralize authority. Yusuf Karam, the leading notable of Ihdin, was the leader of this opposition.[14]

Yusuf had endeared himself to the northerners by providing them with sober leadership during the disruptions of 1860. He had also won Fuad Pasha's respect for his moderation and capable administration as interim governor of the northern districts in 1860–61. In fact, Fuad had urged Davud to include Yusuf Karam in his government. Davud first offered Karam command of the security forces and then the directorship of Jazzin, but Karam rejected both offers and made common cause with the discontented in the north. Apparently he was under the impression that he might replace Davud if Davud failed in his mission and the French threw their weight in favor of a native governor. The Maronite Patriarchate seems to have fanned Karam's hopes with similar considerations, as well as in an attempt to preserve its hard-earned influence over the affairs of the Mountain against an externally established secular government. When the demonstrations in the north turned into shows of force in outright defiance of governmental authority, however, the representatives of the European powers in Beirut made it clear that they stood solidly behind Davud. Consequently Fuad Pasha, who was still in the area, persuaded Yusuf Karam to go to Istanbul with him in November 1861.

Yusuf Karam lived in other parts of the Empire on the government's payroll for the next three years. Evidently he continued to hope that he might still be appointed to the governorship of Mount Lebanon once Davud's tenure came to an end. When Davud's tenure was extended for five years in 1864, however, Yusuf Karam clandestinely returned to Ihdin. Although worried over Karam's intentions, the Porte advised caution to Davud:

Since his return [to Mount Lebanon] without even having solicited your exalted interference [on his behalf] makes him appear like a plain rebel intent on causing trouble for the government, it is entrusted to your sagacity that all the necessary precautions be taken to prevent him from disturbing the peace and order in the country and that he once again be banished from Mount Lebanon in a suitable way.[15]

Davud tried to appease Yusuf Karam but failed, not least because of the Patriarchate's uncooperative attitude. As the returned exile began to gather armed bands around him, regular Ottoman troops from neighboring districts were deployed against his forces and also began to occupy strategic locations in the north. Even then, the Porte was concerned


to contain the threat as peacefully as possible. Instructions dispatched to Davud Pasha and to the commander of Ottoman troops put under Davud's order testify to this:

Settle the matter peacefully, if his obedience can be secured by means of negotiations and assurances. If not, the use of compulsion against him will become incumbent upon the government, in accordance with the regulations concerning Mount Lebanon. In case recourse to force becomes inevitable, however, this should be done without arousing internal or external complaints, and without exposing either the government or the imperial army to insinuations. Under all circumstances, it should be taken into consideration that local conditions and [governmental] interests require the avoidance of troublesome occurrences.[16]

Indeed, the Ottoman troops avoided engaging Karam's bands in battle as much as possible, and the few skirmishes that did occur were almost invariably initiated by the rebels. Contrary to his expectations, Karam failed to inspire a massive revolt even among the predominantly Maronite population of Batrun. The cautious but resolute advance of the Ottoman troops brought most of the strategic locations in the north, including Ihdin, under Davud Pasha's control within a month in March 1866. The Ottoman government declared an amnesty and made arrangements for Yusuf Karam's safe passage to Beirut to embark upon a French warship, which carried him into a second exile in Algiers, France, and Italy until his death in 1889. The Ottoman government paid him a handsome monthly allowance of 5,000 piasters until October 1877, when this was discontinued because of his polemical publications against the regime in Mount Lebanon.[17]

In both phases of the challenge posed by Yusuf Karam, the Porte's primary concern was clearly to bring northern Mount Lebanon into the fold of the new administrative order without allowing events to develop into a diplomatic crisis. Fortunately for the Ottomans, a cooperative disposition, marked by the Concert of Europe, prevailed in diplomatic relations at this juncture.[18] Having just committed themselves to the Règlement , the major European powers had no intention of hampering Ottoman efforts toward its implementation. The Porte, in turn, was ever careful to adhere to the letter as well as the spirit of the Règlement in its efforts to contain opposition. Under the circumstances, Yusuf Karam's obstinate defiance of the new order eventually exhausted his ability to negotiate the interests of his adherents and resulted in his isolation.

Davud Pasha capitalized on Yusuf Karam's failures, not only by extending governmental authority into the northern districts but also, in ways


irreconcilable with Ottoman notions of statesmanship, by cultivating his own image as a model leader for the people of a self-sufficient and self-governing Mount Lebanon. He began to lobby for inclusion of the entire Biqa' valley and Beirut within the boundaries of the mutasarrifiyya . He accepted (if not actually instigated) petitions from residents of adjacent districts in the Province of Damascus complaining about the local administration and pleading for annexation to Mount Lebanon, or a similar administrative order. He also insisted that his office be treated on a par with the highest-ranking governnorships in Ottoman protocol. Davud's conduct pitted him against Mehmed Rasid Pasha, a leading Tanzîmât statesman sent by the Porte in 1866 to the Province of Damascus, as a governor with extraordinary powers, to reform its administration.[19]

Perhaps Davud needed pomp and circumstance to cultivate due respect for his office in a world where, by long tradition, influence was closely associated with the assumed or real dignity of feudalistic lords, patriarchs, and episcopals surrounded by entourages and acting as graceful princes—not to mention the European general consuls in the area, who hardly missed an opportunity to display the "grandeur" of their respective states. The Porte was willing to tolerate Davud's presumptions to a certain extent. He was politely reminded to act within the limits of his authority and with due awareness of the importance of harmonious relations among the Ottoman officials in the area. Davud's evasive response to this advice prompted a stern warning from the Porte:

The fundamental duty of the servants of the state, and the sole source of moral happiness for them, is the constant accordance of their conduct with imperial orders and their endeavor to eliminate all impediments in fulfilling the requirements of official duties in an agreeable way, always in conformity with the overall interests [of the government].[20]

This time, Davud responded by acknowledging the need to cooperate with Mehmed Rasid Pasha toward the betterment of Ottoman administration in the area, and was in return praised by the Porte for his decision to act within the Ottoman bureaucratic hierarchy and follow procedures as a servant of the state should.[21]

Their correspondence with Davud makes clear that the Ottomans considered Mount Lebanon still an Ottoman territory, notwithstanding its internationally guaranteed special status, and its governor an Ottoman bureaucrat, despite the involvement of outsiders in his selection and the special circumstances under which he had to function. Davud appears to have accepted this designation of his role early in his governnorship. Once


he became involved in Mount Lebanon, however, he evidently began to nourish different ambitions, tending to see himself as the head of a project for the creation of a politically, administratively, and economically model autonomous enclave within the Ottoman State. Accordingly, he felt himself responsible not to the Porte alone, but to all the guarantors of the project.[22] His stance and pretensions invited the Porte's intervention, and Davud yielded to the pressure, but only briefly. Soon he resumed his insistence on the need to expand Mount Lebanon's boundaries to make it a more viable unit, and once more he came into conflict with Mehmed Rasid]Rasid] Pasha. In April 1868 Davud tendered his resignation, less in a desire to leave his post than in the hope of acquiring additional concessions from the Porte. Fuad Pasha, who was grand vizier at the time, considered this an opportunity to make short shrift of a potentially complicated problem; he accepted Davud's resignation and appointed Franko Nasri Kusa, originally from Aleppo, in his stead.[23]

Fuad acquired the consent of all the related ambassadors in Istanbul concerning Franko's appointment, but he tried to avoid a joint protocol to that effect. He wanted to emphasize that the governor of Mount Lebanon was an Ottoman official responsible to the Porte, even though previous protocols suggested clearance of this appointment with the representatives of the European powers. In the end, Fuad was obliged to sign an international protocol announcing Franko's appointment.[24] Nonetheless, the new governor got the message.

Throughout his tenure, Franko remained loyal to the general policy guidelines drawn up by the Porte. Unlike Davud, he shunned direct talks and intimate consultations with the representatives of European powers in Beirut. Instead, he maintained cordial relations with them and implied that, since he took his orders from the Porte, their policy-oriented requests to him should be communicated through their ambassadors and the Porte in Istanbul. He also established a friendly and smooth working relationship with the governor of Damascus. In return, both the grand vizier and the governor of Damascus provided Franko with moral and material support as best they could. Most important in this regard were the funds transferred from the Province of Damascus to cover Mount Lebanon's budgetary deficits and finance a number of its public works.[25]

Smooth relations with Damascus and Istanbul suggest that Ottoman sovereignty had become quite visible in Mount Lebanon during Franko's governorship. One has to take into account, however, that France, the principal external contester of Ottoman rights in the area, was bogged down in European affairs and suffered serious internal problems during


this period. France's involvement in Italian affairs, its devastating defeat at the hands of Prussia in 1870, and the consequent internal confusion and change of regime kept its attention away from Mount Lebanon, allowing the Ottomans to have their own way.

Rüstem Pasha, 1873–1883

After consolidation of the new regime in France, however, its diplomats reappeared on the stage to make their influence felt, at a time when the Ottoman government had its hands full with a series of internal and external problems. During these troubled times, Rüstem Pasha was the governor of Mount Lebanon. He was a capable official and an experienced diplomat who had served as the Ottoman ambassador to Florence and St. Petersburg.[26] When he was proposed as a successor to Franko, who died in 1873, the French ambassador to Istanbul considered blocking his appointment in view of Rüstem's reluctance to accommodate French interests in his previous posts. But, unable to propose a better alternative, the French ultimately consented to Rüstem's appointment. Nevertheless, they saw to the organization of Francophile demonstrations in Mount Lebanon soon after Rüstem's arrival, to impress upon him the extent of French influence among the Maronites and demonstrate that a smooth administration of the affairs of the Mountain necessitated catering to French and Maronite interests.[27]

Rüstem ignored the demonstrations. From the beginning, he based his administration on his outspoken belief that the best interests of the people of Mount Lebanon lay in their willingness to work together in peace toward a prosperous life under the auspices of their legitimate sovereign, the sultan, and in accordance with the Règlement that the sultan had agreed to bestow upon them out of his deep concern for their well-being. In line with this outlook, Rüstem made a point of establishing cordial but equidistant and formal relations with all major groups and institutions wielding influence in the Mountain, including the Maronite Church and the French Consulate.[28] At first this helped to foster the institutionalization and respectability of the local government,[29] but the blow inflicted on Ottoman prestige by the central government's inability to cope with the internal and external problems which mushroomed in the mid-1870s put Rüstem in a difficult position.

Among those internal problems were natural disasters that destroyed much of the agricultural crops in Anatolia in 1872–74. Government efforts to relieve the consequent famine by grain purchases at enforced prices in the Balkan provinces aggravated the tension already prevailing there. Peasant unrest fed by increasingly popular nationalistic sentiments


led to all-out rebellions against Ottoman rule. Paralyzed by successive coups d'état, the government in Istanbul lost control of events. Meanwhile, the Ottoman Treasury was crushed under the burden of interest and the sinking fund payments on the huge debt incurred in previous years. Havoc erupted among European creditors, just as the Russian threats to interfere in defense of Orthodox subjects of the Ottoman Empire intensified.

Foreign ministers of major European powers met in Istanbul to discuss the internal and external problems of the Ottoman Empire. The Ottoman government found the resolutions of the conference too humiliating to be acceptable, but the 1877 Russo-Ottoman War that followed brought even farther-reaching consequences. Possible dismemberment of the Empire became a common topic in diplomatic circles. This was avoided partly due to disagreements among the major European powers and partly because of the bitterly realistic policy followed by the Ottoman government under the relatively stable leadership of the new sultan, Abdulhamid II (1876–1909), and a group of conservative pashas who made common cause with him to end the confusion prevailing at the helm of government. In the Berlin Treaty of 1878 and a series of related agreements, the Ottomans surrendered large tracts of territory to other states. They also agreed to pay an enormous sum as war indemnity to Russia and to put a significant portion of government revenue under the administration of an international agency specially formed to service payment of the Ottoman public debt.[30]

These developments had serious repercussions in Mount Lebanon. Alarmed by the intensification of religious sentiments among the Muslim population in urban centers, as the Istanbul conference failed to produce acceptable solutions and war with Russia became imminent, some Christians living in the vicinity rushed to take refuge in Mount Lebanon. According to the Porte, the Russian and French consulates and the expansionist elements in Mount Lebanon instigated the panic. The Porte ordered Rüstem Pasha and his colleague in Damascus to approach the issue in a conciliatory way, taking all measures necessary to reassure the panic-stricken Christians.[31] Acting in close cooperation, the two pashas managed to calm the Christians. No sooner had this problem been contained than friction and sporadic clashes erupted between the Druze and the Maronite people in the Mountain itself. Rüstem promptly called in the regular troops from Damascus and deployed them in the centers of tension. Simultaneously, he did everything he could to reconcile the conflicting parties. A major crisis was prevented, and the grand vizier conveyed to Rüstem the sultan's personal praises, adding:


His Imperial Majesty the Sultan wishes you to continue the precautions taken, pay utmost attention to preventing the occurrence of events or situations which may serve as a pretext for [foreign] intervention at these critical times, and continue to foster the motives and means necessary for elimination of the traces of hostility from the minds of the people, for the sake of the complete restoration of peace and order in Mount Lebanon.[32]

Rüstem Pasha managed to keep Mount Lebanon reasonably quiet through the Russo-Ottoman War, but he could not avoid a growing rift in his relations first with the Maronite Church and then with the French Consulate in Beirut. When defeat in the war cast the future of the Ottoman State in doubt, Butrus Bustani, the Maronite bishop of Dair al-Qamar, considered the time opportune to settle scores with the governor, whose secularist administrative policy he evidently disliked. With the help of his colleague in Beirut, Bishop Yusuf Dibs, he launched a campaign based on accusations of misconduct against Rüstem. Rüstem responded by removing Bishop Bustani to Jerusalem in June 1878, on the grounds that his activities were endangering sectarian harmony in Shuf, the most sensitive mixed district in the Mountain. At this stage, both the French chargé d'affaires and the British consul in Beirut sided with the governor, not only to defend him against undeserved accusations but also because they agreed with him on the disruptive nature of Bishop Bustani's activities. The French ambassador to Istanbul thought likewise.[33]

In Paris, however, different considerations prevailed. Although France was guaranteed a free hand in Tunisia in compensation for the Russian, British, and Austro-Hungarian gains in the Berlin Treaty, the Quai d'Orsay was growing increasingly suspicious of the possibility of being outmaneuvered by the British in Syria and Egypt, in case the further dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire became inevitable. Bent on being ready for all possible situations, the French government decided that it could not afford to alienate the Maronite Church, the surest client of France in the area. This decision marked a shift in French priorities from a commitment to the Règlement as a means toward a viable administration in Mount Lebanon to a commitment to work in close cooperation with the Maronite Church in defense of French interests. John Spagnolo, who discusses this shift of emphasis in French policy on the basis of French documents, shows that from about 1879 onward French diplomats in the area became increasingly uncooperative in their relations with Rüstem Pasha. This was manifest in even the most obvious cases of administrative expediency, such as resolution of the mutasarrifiyya 's budgetary problems.[34]


The British occupation of Egypt in July 1882 clearly intensified the Quai d'Orsay's anxiety about strengthening its position and connections in Mount Lebanon. The French diplomats in the area and in Istanbul were instructed to block Rüstem's reappointment six months before the termination of his tenure in April 1883 and to work toward his replacement by someone amenable to French interests.[35] Simultaneously, a flurry of petitions complaining about Rüstem's policies began to pour into the Porte as well as the embassies of the major powers in Istanbul from various parts of Mount Lebanon. The Porte asked the governor of Damascus, Ahmed Hamdi Pasha, a former grand vizier renowned for his probity, to inquire into the complaints aired in the petitions.

Ahmed Hamdi Pasha defended Rüstem in two consecutive reports. First, he discussed the petitions in detail.[36] Rüstem was accused of deviation from the guidelines set in the Règlement on the judicial system, for levying extraordinary duties, arbitrary dismissal of judges and other officials, and interference in the judicial process. According to Ahmed Hamdi's inquiries and observations, the first two accusations were outlandish. Alterations in the judicial system were aimed at improving its efficiency and were inspired by the recent reorganization of Ottoman courts after the French model. Extraordinary duties had been collected to build bridges and roads for the exclusive benefit of the Lebanese.[37] Hamdi Pasha admitted that there were instances when Rüstem had interfered with the process of justice or dismissed officials, but these situations invariably involved judges and officials who had abused their authority in defense of obvious criminals, because of sectarian sympathies.[38] Complaints from petitioners from Shuf, however, about the tolerance shown by Rüstem to their district-governor Mustafa Arslan's vindictive acts against his opponents were not baseless. All in all, Hamdi Pasha held, the petitions reflected not the general opinion of the people of the Mountain, but the determination of a militant and predominantly Maronite minority to prevent Rüstem's reappointment as governor. The Maronite clergy had spearheaded the movement, and a group of people who aspired to governmental positions under a new governor helped the clergy collect, and sometimes forge, signatures for the petitions. But the go-ahead for the campaign had come from the French consul, Patrimonio.

In his second report, Hamdi discussed the motives behind the French move:

The French view the uninterrupted intensification of their influence in Mount Lebanon as a crucial investment toward acquiring the whole of Syria as a cardinal principle of their policy in the region. The fulfillment of this [objective] depends upon the intensification of


the power and influence of the Maronite clergy, who nourish desires for independence and feel strongly attached to the French. But Rüstem Pasha, driven by his determination to guard the rights of the Sublime Sultanate and taking advantage of the eclipse of the prestige of France in the wake of its defeat by Germany, made an effort to bring the bishops' interference in government affairs to an end. His policy undermined the Church's interests and influence and thus touched the very essence of French policy. His elimination and replacement by someone amenable to the French became extremely important for the successful pursuit of their policy.[39]

According to Hamdi Pasha, this alliance between the Maronite Church and the French Consulate was the real source of the complaints against Rüstem. Otherwise, Rüstem's efforts to improve the conditions necessary for a peaceful, stable, and just order in Mount Lebanon, and his achievements in this regard, were widely acknowledged and appreciated by its inhabitants. Moreover, he was an ardent defender of Ottoman rights and interests, distinctly more so than his predecessors. Hamdi realized that although Rüstem was the ideal governor for Mount Lebanon, the determined opposition of France would preclude his reappointment. The French were looking for pretexts to become directly involved in the administration of Mount Lebanon as a prelude to the realization of their ambitions concerning Syria. In order to thwart their plans, it was essential that the Porte manage to appoint in Rüstem's place a governor who was experienced in diplomatic relations, capable of handling the affairs of the Mountain prudently, and not the least bit sympathetic toward French designs.

Rüstem Pasha himself argued that hostility to France was far from being a guiding principle of his policy in Mount Lebanon, but as an official of the Ottoman State he could not possible tolerate the French-backed efforts of the Maronite clergy to keep the rest of the Mountain's population under their oppressive sway.[40] Abdulhamid II wanted to keep Rüstem in his position. When this proved impossible, he vetoed a number of candidates until the Foreign Ministry was finally able to come up with one acceptable to the European powers as well as the sultan. This candidate was Vasa Efendi, counselor of the governor of Edirne. He was made a pasha and in 1883 appointed Mount Lebanon's new governor for a term of ten years.[41]

Vasa Pasha, 1883–1892

The personality of the new governor appeared irrelevant to Patrimonio, the French consul general in Beirut, in the wake of his successful campaign


against Rüstem. As Spagnolo puts it, Patrimonio "was confident of an upsurge of French influence in the Mountain. From now on, he predicted, 'no governor will be able to administer Lebanon without us.'" Under instructions from the Quai d'Orsay, Patrimonio at first befriended Vasa. Vasa was touched, but he did not feel obliged to fulfill Patrimonio's wishes about the replacement of certain officials appointed by Rüstem. Determined to teach Vasa a lesson, Patrimonio toured the Mountain pompously, in virtual defiance of Ottoman sovereignty.[42] Vasa pretended to be unimpressed,[43] but he was disturbed and turned to Ahmed Hamdi Pasha for advice.

Ahmed Hamdi briefed him on the complications of the situation in the Mountain, the rivalry between the leading Druze families, intra-Maronite conflicts that involved the clergy and landed notables, interdenominational conflicts that pitted the Druze against the Maronites and the Christian sects against one another, and the position of various powers as regards these fluid confrontations. Above all, Ahmed Hamdi warned Vasa against the "intrigues" of the French Consulate and the Maronite clergy. He believed that the Maronite clergy "never ceased contriving and executing whatever action was necessary to humble and oppress other denominations in order to bring the Mountain under their unrestrained control." In this, the French assisted them. Ahmed Hamdi was for a while concerned because Vasa had adopted a friendlier disposition toward the French consul than was customary. According to Ahmed Hamdi, Vasa's inexperience and the influence of "some mischievous Maronites who were displeased by his predecessor's policies" had misled Vasa. When the French consul showed his true face, Vasa realized his mistake, for he was, Ahmed Hamdi assured the Porte, "a true Ottoman loyal to the Sultanate, and capable of running the Mountain effectively with due experience."[44]

Vasa, like most of the statesmen of his era, had a great respect for Ahmed Hamdi Pasha, and took his advice seriously.[45] But at this stage he was not convinced by Ahmed Hamdi's suggestions that Rüstem's course of action could serve as a model for him. An incident in December 1884 obliged Vasa to define his own position. The London Times had published reports of some petitions sent to the French government expressing the desire of the "Maronite community" to come under French protection. The Porte took this news seriously, because it coincided with intelligence reports that indicated that the French were developing plans for a military invasion of Syria.[46] Vasa and the Ottoman ambassador to Paris were asked to report on the issue. In a frame of mind similar to Ahmed Hamdi's, the ambassador interpreted the petitions as yet another sign of France's well-known ambitions concerning geographical Syria and of the importance of


its Maronite connection for the realization of these ambitions. He added that if Vasa adhered to his predecessor's course of action, the Porte would be in a better position to contain the harmful effects of French policy. The Porte passed the ambassador's letter to Vasa, along with a note calling attention to "the need for serious precautions."[47]

Vasa wholeheartedly admitted the necessity for a vigilant policy against French threats, but felt this should be done with due attention to the complex circumstances that prevailed in Mount Lebanon. In this regard, Vasa took issue with suggestions that advocated a categorical response to the French, the Maronite clergy, and the Maronite community, as if there were an absolute correspondence among their interests. According to Vasa, Rüstem had committed this mistake and thus had pushed the Maronite clergy and along with them many Maronites closer to France. Under the circumstances, the French consul had found ample opportunity to perpetuate his government's policy objectives and to challenge Rüstem's authority. Rüstem had turned to other sects and foreign powers for support against the French and their local allies, thereby rekindling the numerous frictions already existing among people in officially and socially responsible positions in the Mountain. "Preoccupied in slandering one another and in cultivating the support of this or that consulate in order to retain their positions or to acquire one," these people had become altogether "oblivious to the destruction of the rights of the weak and the poor." This situation had weakened the people's confidence in the government. When at length the Porte yielded to French pressure to replace Rüstem, without even insisting on the simultaneous replacement of the French consul in Beirut, Ottoman prestige vis-à-vis France had declined even further.[48]

Vasa in December 1884 was determined to avoid what he saw to be his predecessor's mistake. He was willing to make deals with the leaders of the Maronite community, religious or otherwise, and did not believe categorically that the Maronites were a cause lost to the Ottomans. He approached the petitions issue in this vein. He told the Porte that the petitions simply expressed an appreciation for Patrimonio's services to the Maronite community. Only the Maronite patriarch and a few of the bishops had signed them, and not on their own but on Patrimonio's initiative, upon the circulation of rumors about his appointment to another post. "Certain influential Maronites settled in Beirut," however, had deliberately misinformed the Times about the content and the purpose of the petitions. Vasa suspected that these people wanted to provoke the Ottoman government into taking repressive measures against the Maronite community in general, so that more Maronites could be lured into looking to France as a savior. This was a petty calculation best ignored. Vasa had


already persuaded the patriarch and the bishops involved to unequivocally denounce the distorted news, and they had done so despite Patrimonio's pressures. The matter should be left at that, for holding responsible an entire community, which constituted the majority of the population, could hardly help forestall foreign intervention in the affairs of the Mountain. Instead, the government should concentrate its efforts on making Ottoman rule more acceptable to the population without discrimination by improving the quality of life, administration, and justice for all.[49]

In his various letters to the Porte, Vasa elaborated on his position: He aspired to a Mount Lebanon where all segments of the population had easy access to the courts and government offices, and retained faith in the competence of these institutions to handle their disputes and problems fairly. People would travel safely and busy themselves with their work with peace of mind concerning their lives, property, and rights. The government would provide schools, roads, and other opportunities to assist the population to reach a higher level of civilization. Wealth and comfort would accrue to all from undisturbed hard work. In appreciation of the advantages of peaceful coexistence under a benign sovereign and a just government, the people of the Mountain would abandon their primitive feuds and join their hearts and efforts together as children of the same land toward furthering their collective well-being. These were the goals Vasa was working for, and that all governors of Mount Lebanon should be working for, in order to fulfill His Majesty the Sultan's decrees and instructions. Achievements in these directions, Vasa believed, would reinforce the respect of Ottoman rule in Mount Lebanon and ultimately obliterate the tendency of certain groups to solicit foreign support in pursuance of selfish interests. Once the circumstances that nourished divisive foreign influences were eliminated, Mount Lebanon would naturally become a more integral part of the Ottoman State than it was now.[50] In short, Vasa was convinced that with good administration, justice, and due material progress, the Lebanese could be won over to Ottomanism.[51]

Vasa's ideals changed little during his tenure, but it did not take him long to realize the limits of his and Istanbul's powers in implementing them. Establishing a working relationship with the French consuls proved to be especially difficult. Despite his determination to avoid open confrontations by tactful diplomacy, he found himself caught up in increasingly tense conflicts, first with Patrimonio and then with his successor Petiteville, over issues that involved appointment of officials, election of councillors, budgetary problems, construction of roads, and even judicial cases—as will be shown below and in other chapters. At length, Vasa became convinced that the French wanted and deliberately worked for the


failure of the mutasarrifiyya regime in an effort to prove the incapacity of the Ottomans to rule the area.[52] By the summer of 1887, his friction with the French Consulate had reached such intensity that the leading Ottoman statesmen in Istanbul felt the need to advise caution. Grand Vizier Kâmil and Foreign Minister Said pashas, who were busy patching up differences with the French government, asked Vasa to try to ameliorate his relations with the French consul. They also indicated that the French ambassador to Istanbul would use his good offices with the consul to the same effect.[53]

Cevdet Pasha, the minister of justice who had always been supportive of Vasa, reminded his protégé of his own criticism of Rüstem and invited him to try to remain on equally good terms with all the foreign missions. In his long response, Vasa assured Cevdet Pasha that he had always done his best to maintain cordial relations with the French consuls, "showing composure, affability, patience, and even compliance as much as possible." He found this a practically impossible feat, however, for the consuls recognized no bounds in their involvement in the Mountain's administration and in the support they gave to certain Maronite bishops who aspired to control the Mountain "despotically" in order to augment the Church's wealth and influence. Under the circumstances, Vasa sighed, he had found himself obliged to adopt a course of action similar to his predecessor's. He was as ever ready to reach a reconciliation with the French consul as long as the latter clearly acknowledged Ottoman sovereignty and abstained from activities that endangered intersectarian peace in the Mountain. Otherwise, his duties and loyalties obliged him to confront the French and their local allies.[54]

Eventual convergence of Vasa's attitude toward the French Consulate with Rüstem's is not surprising. Both men were faithful Ottoman statesmen who served at a juncture when the French government shifted the emphasis in its Near East policy onto the consolidation of its influence in Mount Lebanon as a necessary step to bringing Syria under French control. After the Berlin Treaty, however, the Ottoman government under Abdulhamid II's leadership viewed the Syrian provinces as a key to the success of its efforts to consolidate whatever was left of the state.[55] Consequently, thwarting French designs on Syria became a fundamental objective of Ottoman foreign policy. A corollary was to deny the French opportunities that they could use as pretexts to enhance their influence and active involvement in the affairs of Mount Lebanon. This was the task expected of Rüstem and Vasa pashas. Both governors responded to the challenge with the same enthusiasm in defending Ottoman interests. Differences in their personalities and the circumstances prevailing during their governorships led them to adopt different strategies. Rüstem was an


experienced diplomat and a principled bureaucrat keen on keeping his distance from local elements, sometimes to the point of haughtiness. He served in Mount Lebanon under especially difficult conditions when the Ottoman State was undergoing a profound crisis. By Vasa's time, the crisis had been brought under control, but the growing Ottoman sensitivity to threats directed against Syria kept the tension between the governor and the French Consulate alive, at least until the late 1880s, when the French and Ottoman governments reached a temporary compromise of sorts. Vasa concentrated his attention on winning the support of local interest groups in order to thwart French ambitions. His expertise in provincial politics, preference for negotiations and deals, and flexibility as to the means used to achieve a justifiable or desired end marked his style of government.[56]

Vasa's relations with the Maronite Church illustrate his style. Early in his governnorship, Vasa believed he could weaken the ties between the Church and the French Consulate by assuring the clergy that under his government there would be no room for prejudice against any group because of creed or vocation. Judging by his own words, Vasa was under the impression that the Maronite clergy's hostility to the government resulted from Rüstem's "irreverent and unjust treatment" of them. Otherwise Vasa hoped they would willingly cooperate with the governor to serve the well-being of Mount Lebanon.[57] It was partly this belief that prompted Vasa to come to the defense of the Church in the petitions incident described above. It did not take him long, however, to abandon his hopes of an institutional rapprochement between the Church and the government so long as France remained averse to it. Instead, Vasa began to concentrate his attention on individual bishops in order to win their personal support by taking advantage of interclerical rivalries over power and influence within the Church and the Maronite community. In one of his letters to the Porte, Vasa openly confessed that "since it would be politically expedient to have the religious heads of the Maronite community at loggerheads, I paid due attention to this important matter and managed to bring about a degree of discord and mutual aversion among them."[58]

Indeed, Vasa's reports indicate that he remained well informed about even the supposedly secret meetings of the Church Council. Other evidence, not to mention his own assertions, makes clear that in his capacity as the governor of Mount Lebanon he had become a factor to be dealt with in the internal affairs of the Church, including its relations with the Vatican and the elections of a new patriarch in 1890.[59] Vasa's influence, however, should not be exagerated, and he did not think otherwise. All he


expected as a reward for his involvement in Church affairs was the rise of relatively less Francophile bishops within the Church hierarchy, and that they should pay somewhat closer attention to being on good terms with the government in Mount Lebanon and in Istanbul, as contrasted with those who served French interests all too readily. Otherwise, Vasa had come to believe that not much could be done to rupture the Church's dependence on France, for this dependence was based on vital interests. According to him, Maronite clergy were accustomed to worldly pleasures and to partaking in worldly affairs to an extent hardly pleasing to the Vatican, their spiritual superior. France protected them against papal investigations. France also offered protection to the clergy and even to their affiliates against governmental authority, as if they were French citizens and over and beyond the guarantees allowed them, along with other clergy, by the Ottoman laws and the Règlement . The French connection thus provided the Maronite clergy with political power that they used to perpetuate their worldly interests, according to Vasa. Furthermore, the French government assisted the Church financially on a regular basis, supposedly for charitable activities but in reality to keep them obedient. Should the bishops falter in fulfilling directives, the French consul was ever in a strong position to browbeat them into submission.[60]

Under the circumstances, Vasa thought it would be wiser to concentrate on reducing the influence of the clergy on the Maronite community rather than that of France on the clergy. This became a key item in Vasa's political agenda. In many of his letters to the Porte, he rejoiced to report incidents that, in his judgment, indicated "the disgrace of the Maronite religious leaders even in the eyes of their own flock," and he frequently expressed his hopes to see to the further "erosion of clerical prestige and influence."[61] Vasa believed the task he set for himself was difficult: the uneducated masses felt a naive attachment to their clergy. Furthermore, the Church was in a position to provide material benefits to individuals, thanks to the funds and agricultural resources under its control and to its French connection. The Maronite community was the single most important beneficiary of the French missionary schools, hospitals, and dispensaries. According to Vasa, piety hardly disguised the political motives guiding the activities of these institutions, which enjoyed financial and political backing from the French government. Nevertheless, Vasa believed, neither the French nor the clerical influence on the Maronite community was absolute. There were many Maronites who "appreciated the privileges granted them under the mutasarrifiyya regime and realized that under the sovereignty of another state they would be deprived of


them." There were also Maronites who found the Church's dominance over the community "oppressive" and were hence eager to side with the government.[62]

Vasa associated himself with this group to help form an alternative leadership to the clergy within the Maronite community. Vasa called this team "the government party" and supported it as best he could against "the church party" "without causing [diplomatic] problems for the [central] government." The contest between the two groups became especially tense during the Administrative Council elections, as will be discussed in detail later. Vasa connived in the crafty tactics of the candidates he backed, just as he overlooked the corruption of the officials and the councillors who were his allies.[63] He also fanned the tension between certain notables and the Church.[64]

In fact, many of the projects that Vasa undertook became in one way or another related to his drive against clerical influence. He fervently pursued the judicial reforms initiated by his predecessor "in order to bring the clergy's involvement in judicial affairs to an end," among other reasons.[65] Likewise, the "negative influence" on young minds of the schools and educational programs run by the missionaries and the Church was a major concern for Vasa. In order to counterbalance this situation, he urged the Porte to provide him with funds, teachers, and diplomatic support. He wanted to build additional public schools in Mount Lebanon, introduce the study of Ottoman-Turkish in a greater number of schools, give scholarships to talented students to encourage them to continue their higher education in Istanbul, and bring private schools under the government's surveillance.[66] Given its financial predicament, the central government was able to provide Vasa with only token support in educational matters, and virtually none in yet another project important to him, namely, road construction.

Vasa saw in road construction a remedy to the general ignorance of the people of certain regions and their consequent dependence on the clerics:

Most of the people inhabiting the northern parts of the Mountain are Maronite. Unacquainted with the pleasures of prosperity and stuck in their congenital attitudes, they remain in a state of ignorance and are easily seducible by false rumors spread among them. This [situation] is impermissible. It has become an urgent matter to construct carriage roads in this region in order to facilitate travel and communications so that its people are brought into the orbit of civilization to a certain extent and thus some progress is made in freeing them from seductions.[67]


But Vasa had to convince the Administrative Council to raise the funds necessary to finance such projects. That was not easy, because the Church and the French Consulate opposed any project that involved the collection of funds beyond the tax limits set in the Règlement . Vasa considered this opposition a subterfuge: The bishops were afraid that "they would no longer be able to treat their flock as nonentities and ride roughshod over them once the veil of ignorance was removed from their eyes" thanks to the prosperity that would come with the roads. Since the Maronite Church was the principal tool for the implementation of French policy objectives, the French were also opposed to projects that might undermine the Church's sway over the people, according to Vasa.[68]

Spagnolo's research based on French documents corroborates Vasa's impressions. Although early in Vasa's governorship the French consul did support the construction of a road between Bait al-Din and Beirut through funds raised locally, he opposed the plan to build another one from Antilias to Jubail soon afterward because the latter project might get the Maronites in the north more closely involved in their Ottoman environment. As Spagnolo puts it, "changes so fundamental to the economy and society of the Mountain were to be discouraged until the French themselves could be in a position to sponsor them and to derive whatever benefits or propaganda accrued," according to the consul.[69] Despite the opposition, Vasa was able to convince the Administrative Council to back the Antilias-Jubail carriage road and a few others as well, but only after a considerable effort involving various machinations to replace or win over a sufficient number of the unsupportive councillors. By the end of Vasa's governorship, a total of 149 kilometers of roads had been built in Mount Lebanon. This appears as a significant achievement when compared with the total of 108 kilometers built under his three predecessors over a period of two decades, the more so if one takes into consideration that by far the greatest portion of the earlier roads had been constructed by central government funds.[70] But the machinations that made Vasa's achievement possible provided his opponents with ample ammunition to attack him.

In the summer and autumn of 1887, when Vasa's relations with the French Consulate and the Maronite Church had reached their nadir over disputes related to the councillor elections of that year, the powerful Druze chief Mustafa Arslan joined the campaign against Vasa. Mustafa was clearly more interested in the affairs of his native Shuf than in who controlled the Administrative Council and how. Nevertheless, he made common cause with the Church and the Consulate to complain to the Porte about the partisanship and graft involved in Vasa's governorship. Elridge,


the British consul-general in Beirut, also expressed concern over the greed of officials, although he apparently empathized with Vasa's efforts to win the support of the Administrative Council. Already weary of the rising political tension in the Mountain, the Porte invited Vasa to reconsider his tactics, and in November 1887 ordered his son-in-law and executive secretary Kupelyan Efendi out of Mount Lebanon, for he was widely believed to be the architect of the graft and political machinations that had become an obvious dimension of Vasa's governorship.[71]

In defense of his position and of the senior officials of his government, Vasa pointed to the hypocrisy of his critics. To him, the bitterness of the French and their local supporters resulted from the obvious decline of their oppressive influence, which they had wielded in all kinds of mischievous ways.[72] The British consul was disturbed for similar reasons. Contrary to his expectations as shaped by past experience, the mutasarrifiyya officials under Vasa did not solicit British support as a counterforce to French influence but instead concentrated their attention on making the government the sole refuge of the people of the Mountain.[73] As for Mustafa Arslan, he was infatuated with his desire to get back the district governorship of Shuf from which Vasa had ousted him for abuse of authority. He now worked hand in glove with the French to forge an opposition against Shuf's current district governor Nasib Junblat, unabashedly fanning the inter-Druze family rivalries in the process. His intrigues "sapped the strength of the Druze community" and thereby threatened to upset the sectarian balance in the Mountain. Vasa expressed his surprise at the support and credit given to such a person in government circles in Beirut, Damascus, and Istanbul, and pleaded for discretion lest a serious rift in Druze ranks undermine the Ottoman position in Mount Lebanon.[74]

The Porte made clear to Vasa that although neither his own integrity nor the gist of his policy were called into question, the complaints against his style of government were substantial enough to warrant adjustments. Vasa duly complied. He turned his attention to the grievances of the Druze, short of restoring Mustafa to his former position, and adopted a more conciliatory attitude toward the Maronite Church and the French Consulate. Complaints subsided, and Vasa and his supporters were able to run the Mountain with relatively few problems until about the time of Vasa's death in June 1892.[75]

To be sure, an opposition movement, led by Mustafa Arslan on the one hand and the Maronite bishop of Beirut, Yusuf Dibs, on the other, continued to smolder. Thus Mustafa Arslan continued to encourage the Druze in Shuf to defy Nasib Junblat's authority.[76] Likewise, Yusuf Dibs backed the rivals of Batrun's district governor in their efforts to instigate the peas-


ants of three villages to challenge court decisions in land dispute cases.[77] While Mustafa Arslan lobbied against Vasa in official circles, Dibs' associates, such as Yusuf Shidyaq and Philip Khazin, published pseudonymous articles in Egyptian papers to discredit Vasa and his local supporters. Vasa was greatly disturbed over the unfavorable press coverage his government received. He complained that Mount Lebanon was "a place where the fabrication of false accusations and intrigue against others were favorite pastimes for an idle elite. Personal ambitions fan[ned] this tendency, and the calumnies that circulate[d were] taken for fact by a population of naive mountaineers and peasants."[78]

In marked contrast to his initial tolerance of journalistic excesses, as witnessed by the petitions incident described above, Vasa took Khazin and Shidyaq to court for spreading false news. The former was acquitted and the latter sentenced to a year's imprisonment before being forgiven by a special decree of the sultan himself. Vasa wanted to take legal and administrative action against Mustafa Arslan and Yusuf Dibs as well, but the Porte discouraged him from doing so. Pledges of loyalty to the Ottoman State published in Beirut papers by the accused, the careful abstention of the opposition leaders from discrediting Ottoman sovereignty in their attacks against Vasa, and their efforts to establish good contacts with Ottoman authorities in Beirut and Istanbul influenced the Porte's attitude in all these cases.[79] Clearly, Ottoman prestige was in the ascendant in the area at this time, and the Porte was eager to encourage the trend. In this sense, Vasa's claim that, during his tenure, foreign influence in Lebanese affairs was relegated to relative insignificance, just as local confidence in and respect for Ottoman authority was boosted, does not appear to be baseless.

Yet another significant development during Vasa's tenure was the intersectarian quality that political coalitions acquired. Vasa himself was backed by a cross-sectarian alliance of the Lebanese leadership who managed to keep the affairs of the Mountain under control and the opposition literally at bay in Beirut, at least from about early 1888 to 1891–92.[80] It was probably the effectiveness of this alliance that forced the opposition to organize along similar lines and to acknowledge the need for a new approach to politics in Mount Lebanon. Yusuf Dibs' political strategy illustrates the point. Unlike other politically oriented Maronite bishops, Dibs concentrated his efforts on forming a secular and party-like network that incorporated people from all sects and above all the Druze. Dibs was also running a preparatory school open to all sects, whose staff provided a liberal intellectual leadership. In addition, he had a print shop and a newspaper under his control. Finally, he was cautious and respectful in his relations with Ottoman authorities, trying to cultivate their good will


without rupturing his French connection. He could walk this tight rope thanks to his alliance with Mustafa Arslan and the softening of the tensions between the Ottoman and French governments from about 1887 onward.[81]

Vasa recognized the novel aspects of Yusuf Dibs' leadership, but he interpreted them as new tactics in pursuance of old objectives. To him, Dibs would be satisfied with nothing less than restoration of the Maronite Church's dominance, first over the Maronite community and then over the rest of the Mountain's population. Vasa held that Dibs used Mustafa Arslan in order to drive a wedge through the Druze and thus render them powerless as a counterforce to the Church. He flirted with Vasa's "naive" colleagues in Beirut in an effort to cover his schemes. Dibs, according to Vasa, actually intended to effect such changes in the governmental structure of the Mountain as to render it a tool of the Maronite Church. To this end, he was busy recruiting support for a petition campaign. The petitions in preparation demanded the limitation of the governor's term to a maximum of three years and made the extension of his term incumbent upon the general approval of the people. The petitions also called for the election of the judges by the people and their religious heads. Finally, the petitions asked for the election of the councillors by a larger electorate and for a shorter term (two instead of six years), along with the extension of the Council's authority, in order to oblige the governor to seek the Council's approval in all administrative matters, above all in the appointment of senior officials. Vasa saw nothing but religious bigotry behind these requests and warned the Porte that if they were put into effect Mount Lebanon would be thrown into turmoil, with grave consequences for all the people involved. Besides, the Porte should take into consideration the circumstances in which the petitions were being prepared. Yusuf Dibs, Mustafa Arslan, and their "accomplices" forged seals, spread calumnies, and resorted to pressure and deception just to fill the petitions with signatures.[82]

Vasa was assessing Dibs' intentions and tactics in a visibly unpropitious mood. This was only partly related to such personal matters as Dibs' unconcealed determination to prevent Vasa's reappointment. Vasa's conviction about the unchangeability of the theocratic and Francophile disposition of the Maronite religious leadership also played a role in shaping his hostility toward Dibs. Furthermore, Vasa believed in the need for a powerful governor to keep Mount Lebanon in order—and within the orbit of Ottoman sovereignty. Yusuf Dibs, on the other hand, was for a more participatory system of government, whatever his true intentions and feelings of political allegiance might be. The Ottoman statesmen in Istanbul


and Beirut evidently had a more positive view of Dibs than did Vasa and felt confident in their ability to curb the former's aspirations without alienating him or his Church. In a sense, their attitude was closer to that of Vasa early in his governorship. Nine years of service in Mount Lebanon had changed Vasa. He had become deeply involved in, and a party to, the ongoing political struggles in the Mountain.

Vasa's own accounts make amply clear that both of his major opponents, Yusuf Dibs and Mustafa Arslan, deliberately chose to act within the existing political structure and in ways that tied Mount Lebanon to Ottoman Beirut, if not also to the Ottoman capital. Vasa failed to appreciate this aspect of their opposition, although it vindicated his own position. After all, his most consistent objective had been to illustrate to the Lebanese that the Ottoman Sultanate was the sole source of authority, justice, and peaceful coexistence for all in the area.[83] Given his rich experience in provincial politics and general tendency to prefer reconciliation to open conflicts, Vasa might have found a way to work out his differences with the opposition. But his health was failing him. He was sick and spent long stretches of time in bed. He died in June 1892, before completing his full term.[84]


Ottoman Policy and Power Relations in Mount Lebanon, 1892–1915

In the interregnum following Vasa's death, Mount Lebanon fell into a political vacuum that appeared to justify Vasa's belief in the need for a strong governor. Yusuf Dibs nevertheless went ahead with his petition and lobbying aimed at limiting the governor's authority. The petition actually sent to the Porte and representatives of other guarantors of the Règlement contained more moderate and reasonable demands than the original text described by Vasa. Basically, these demands included more autonomy for judges and officials and greater freedom in councillor elections. Although signed by 1,200 Lebanese from different denominations, the support given the petition by the Maronite bishops drew protest from some of the prominent leaders of other communities.[1] The governor of Beirut, whose opinion was consulted on this matter, warned the Porte to avoid fundamental changes in the constitutional structure of the mutasarrifiyya because suspicion of the Maronite bishops who advocated these changes ran deep among the members of other denominations.[2] Meanwhile, the Administrative Council, which was authorized to govern during the interregnum, split into two hostile camps, with the Maronites and one Druze on one side and the rest of the members on the other, and was unable to function. Efforts of the Porte and the governor of Beirut to make peace between the two groups were in vain.[3]

These developments undermined Dibs' efforts. Nevertheless, the protocol finally signed on 20 August 1892 by the European powers and the Ottoman government limited the term of the new governor to five years and incorporated a few general principles along the lines proposed in Dibs' petition. The Ottoman grand vizier specifically instructed the new governor to honor these principles and charged him to eliminate the causes of the complaints and administrative confusion that had emerged in Mount Lebanon in the final years of Vasa Pasha.[4]


Naum Pasha, 1892–1902

Naum Pasha was the new governor to shoulder these tasks. Since his term was extended for another five years in 1897, he remained in office until 1902. He was an undersecretary in the Foreign Ministry at the time of his appointment, and enjoyed the confidence of a number of senior Ottoman statesmen. He was also a favored candidate of the Maronite Church by virtue of being the nephew and son-in-law of Franko Kusa, the second governor of the mutasarrifiyya , who was still remembered for his friendly relations with the Church. Furthermore, Naum gained the support of Mustafa Arslan by reappointing him to the district-governorship of Shuf—albeit reluctantly, under pressure from a number of Mustafa's friends in Istanbul, Damascus, and Beirut.[5] But Naum's greatest advantage was the concurrence of his tenure with the most tranquil years of the last half-century of Ottoman history.

For a good part of the decade that Naum served in Mount Lebanon, the primary focus of the great powers was on the Far East, leaving the Ottomans more or less alone to deal with their problems. Moreover, the rapprochement between the French and Ottoman governments, already under way in Vasa's final years, increased during Naum's tenure. Suspicions of both governments toward Great Britain and the intensification of economic relations strengthened the accord between them. During this period French creditors acquired a dominant position in the Ottoman Debt Administration and certain Empire-wide monopolistic enterprises affiliated with it, such as tobacco and hookah tobacco production and trade, salt panning, and fisheries. In addition, a number of French companies acquired individual concessions to construct and operate various public works, mines, ports, department stores, and the like across the Empire. These developments induced the French government to observe a friendlier policy toward the Ottomans and downplay its ambitions concerning Mount Lebanon and Syria.[6] Challenged relatively little by divisive external forces, and also benefiting from a modest economic revival from about 1895 on, the Ottoman government could pursue its efforts to incorporate the Arabs more effectively into the Ottoman system. Ottoman influence visibly increased, especially in the urban centers of geographical Syria, and was further boosted by the quick victory of the Ottoman armies against Greece in 1897.[7]

Naum benefited from these favorable circumstances. He was able to govern Mount Lebanon quite effectively, and his long tenure remained free of momentous events. Some of the issues he had to deal with were related to the Porte's efforts to apply in Mount Lebanon certain laws and


regulations prevailing elsewhere in the Empire. A major issue of this nature involved implementation of the regulations concerning contraband trade. Smuggling had become widespread along the coast of Mount Lebanon; smugglers traded in items subject to monopolistic regulations, such as tobacco and salt, and in contraband items such as firearms and gunpowder. They also imported commodities from abroad without paying the customs duties on them. The Beirut office of the Ottoman Customs Department was supposed to prevent contraband trade, but the sentry huts once built along the coast of Mount Lebanon for this purpose had fallen into disuse. In 1893 the Beirut Customs Office attempted to repair and reman the huts, but encountered resistance from the mutasarrifiyya administration. Naum pleaded with the Porte that the Administrative Council's opinion on this matter be taken into consideration.

The Council claimed that the local security force could deal with smugglers. The Customs Department vehemently disagreed and interpreted the Council's position as an attempt to usurp a privilege not provided by the Règlement —namely, autonomous regulation of the Mountain's customs. The Porte asked Naum to convince the Council to have the most strategically located sentry huts repaired, and that he did.[8] Smuggling remained a major activity in Mount Lebanon, however, and in the neighboring Province of Beirut as well. In fact, the sentries stationed in Mount Lebanon by the Beirut Customs Office may themselves have even participated in smuggling.[9] But the real issue underlying this incident had been delimitation of the privileges granted the people of the Mountain, and in that regard the Porte made clear at this point that customs regulation should remain a prerogative of the central government.

Another group of issues that preoccupied Naum revolved around relations between the Mountain and the city of Beirut. By old custom, wealthy families from the middle zones of Mount Lebanon wintered in Beirut, and many Beirutis summered in the neighboring hills in Mount Lebanon. There were also the close economic ties between the Mountain and the city that one would expect between a harbor and its natural hinterland, which were rapidly augmented with the construction of new roads, improvement of communications between Beirut and Damascus via Mount Lebanon, and the construction of modern harbor facilities in Beirut in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. People from all walks of life descended from the Mountain to work, open businesses, acquire property, and settle in the city. Even the governors of Mount Lebanon kept houses and spent a good deal of their time in Beirut. Simultaneously, many Beirutis acquired houses and even opened businesses in Mount Lebanon to benefit from its pleasant summer weather and lower taxes. As the


life and economy of the city and the Mountain merged, keeping the two under separate administrative systems became increasingly problematic. Beirutis paid higher taxes, and they had to serve in the army or pay the military exemption tax instead, whereas the Lebanese only paid a minimal sum for exemption from service. Consequently, the Lebanese who settled in Beirut wanted to retain their tax privileges, and the Beirutis wanted to pass as Lebanese in tax matters.

In an effort to deal with this problem as early as 1866, the Ottoman authorities had reached a resolution by which a Lebanese who left the Mountain and acquired property for personal use elsewhere would be considered a resident of that place.[10] The resolution, however, proved impracticable, and treating any person who had paid his taxes in Mount Lebanon as a resident there became the common practice by Vasa's time.[11] In 1892–94 the government of Beirut, objecting to this practice, undertook a survey to identify those Lebanese who had effectively settled in Beirut and began to collect from them retroactively the difference between the military exemption taxes of Beirut and Mount Lebanon. Complaints from the people to the Porte as well as to the consulates, along with Naum's protests, led the Porte to intervene. Protracted negotiations among Mount Lebanon, Beirut, and Istanbul ensued. In the end, only those Lebanese who had acquired property and settled in Beirut for ten to fifteen years and clearly intended to stay in Beirut lost their Lebanese exemptions. Otherwise, the practical criterion previously used to identify a Lebanese was upheld,[12] at least until 1908, when the Porte made an abortive attempt to apply the new military recruitment program to all residents of Beirut. The government renewed its attempt in 1912 and ordered a census. The Lebanese who had settled in Beirut shut down their houses and work places and fled to the Mountain in panic. In order to bring them back, the Porte had to issue repeated assurances that "the Lebanese who resided outside Mount Lebanon to practice a trade or craft, to study, or to work as a laborer or servant would retain their [privileged] status."[13]

Another aspect of the relations between Mount Lebanon and Beirut involved the treatment of Lebanese travelers. From about the mid-1880s onward, increasing numbers of Lebanese went abroad in search of a better living, mainly to the Americas but also to Africa, Australia, and Europe. At first the Ottoman central government adopted a strictly prohibitive stance against this movement, for a number of ideological and practical reasons. By long tradition, a conscientious sultan ought to keep his subjects content where they lived. When some of these subjects began to leave for other lands in large numbers, this could not be viewed as a good sign for the sultan's prestige. More recently, the Ottoman social elite, bureau-


crats and notables alike, had grown sensitive to having a positive image abroad, especially in the Western world. Now the tremendous hardships suffered by Lebanese in foreign lands, particularly in the early stages of their venture, became a source of embarrassment for the Ottoman elite, and they wanted to prevent such situations. Furthermore, some Lebanese who fell into destitution through having been refused entry to the country of their destination, failing to find a job, or other reasons, had to be returned home by Ottoman missions abroad at a cost to the government. Finally, the exposure of Lebanese to new ideas and ways of living abroad turned some of them into critics, if not outright adversaries, of the Ottoman system.

For all these reasons, the central government forbade the external travel of Lebanese and expected the government of Beirut to implement this decision. The population was undeterred. They continued to go abroad either clandestinely, with the aid of smugglers who cooperated with foreign maritime companies, or by "abusing" the internal travel permits they acquired. Lebanese could not apply for regular passports except under special circumstances, but they retained the right to travel elsewhere in the Ottoman Empire. Thus they acquired travel permits for a suitable place within the Empire, boarded a ship going that way from Beirut, and then transferred to another one bound for a European port at a convenient location along the course of their journeys. The government of Mount Lebanon issued travel permits liberally, in an effort to prevent Lebanese travelers from dealing with and being exploited by smugglers. But the Porte kept pressuring the governor of Beirut to stop the departure of Lebanese for distant lands. The only solution that seems to have occurred to the Beirut port authorities was to hold incoming Lebanese responsible for having abused their travel permits, but they soon discovered there was no such crime in Ottoman law.

Under the circumstances, administrative fiat remained the only means available to port authorities to implement the Porte's orders, a situation that facilitated abuse of authority and increased the confusion already reigning on the Beirut waterfront. A multitude of people, including smugglers, commissioners, porters, boatmen, sentries, and officials, found numerous ways to exploit Lebanese passengers. Meanwhile, relations between the governments of Beirut and Mount Lebanon deteriorated, as they blamed each other for the mess created by the Porte's insistence on the need to check Lebanese emigration. At last, a new grand vizier who believed deregulation was the only solution to the problem took charge of the Ottoman government in 1896. Acting on the basis of a series of re-


ports provided by Naum, Grand Vizier Halil Rifat was finally able to elicit from the sultan a decree that effectively left the Lebanese free to travel anywhere they wanted.[14]

The central government's willingness to reconsider its initial position is noteworthy in relation to all the problems discussed above. The Porte wanted to exert its authority over the Mountain more effectively and took advantage of the times to move in that direction, but not without sensitivity to the reactions of the Lebanese. Istanbul's predominant concern was still to keep the Mountain free from intensive foreign intervention and hence to keep its population as quiet as possible. Consequently, the central government preferred to negotiate its position with the dominant groups in the Mountain through its governor. Naum appears to have fulfilled this task with notable tact, carefully weighing the local and imperial interests and eventually working out solutions acceptable to both sides. Naum was successful in other aspects of his governorship as well, judging from the generally praiseworthy accounts of his tenure.[15] His ability to keep the budget balanced, despite construction of an additional 480 kilometers of roads, should also be considered an indicator of his successful management of the affairs of the Mountain.[16]

There was, however, an opposition movement that formed against Naum and his local supporters. At first the opposition was weak and scattered, as manifested by a series of petitions presented to the Porte around 1897 to prevent Naum's reappointment. Quite a few of the petitions were pleas in favor of officials whom Naum had dismissed, apparently for being Vasa's men. There were also petitions that accused Naum of cultivating unduly close relations with the French and Russian consuls and the Maronite prelates. Iskandar Tuaini, Naum's leading advisor, was singled out as a particularly corrupt person in most of the petitions. At one point, Naum felt obliged to conduct an investigation of Iskandar, and on two occasions he himself was cautioned by the Porte for his tolerance of extravagant ceremonies to honor French officials visiting the Mountain. Otherwise, neither his nor Iskandar's position and freedom of action were affected by the complaints.[17]

Toward the end of Naum's second five-year term, complaints against him became distinctly better organized and bolder. A twofold campaign was launched to prevent his reappointment. A group of individuals wrote letters to influential statesmen in Istanbul accusing Naum of having deviated from the Ottomanist policies of Rüstem and Vasa, instead reviving Davud's and Franko's course of action that emphasized good relations with foreign consulates and the Maronite Church.[18] Simultaneously, a massive


petition campaign was launched by a group of people who called themselves "Lebanese," perhaps for the first time in such a movement. They gathered well over 1,000 signatures and seals for their petitions. Their long list of complaints revolved around Naum's authoritarian disposition toward the Administrative Council, officials, and judges. They also accused his aides of corruption and involvement in smuggling. But the central theme of the petitions was condemnation of Naum for behaving as if he were a princely ruler and Mount Lebanon a principality of the Kusa family and its local supporters. The petitioners called loudly and clearly for appointment of a governor unrelated to the Kusa family. Since the Maronite Church was clearly pro-Kusa, it is evident that a secular-minded group of Maronites, the likes of those officials who were supportive of Vasa and once groomed by him, was the driving force behind this campaign.[19]

In Istanbul, complaints against Naum were at first disregarded as exaggerations instigated by ambition to acquire government positions. The Palace, the Porte, and the Foreign Ministry agreed to support another renewal of Naum's term. But when the French Embassy insisted on the appointment of Yusuf Kusa, Franko's son, Sultan Abdulhamid II grew suspicious and pushed for a person unrelated to the Kusas, as desired by the "Lebanese." In the end, Muzaffer, the commander of the Imperial Stable and a member of the military inspection committee, was elevated to the rank of pasha and appointed the new governor of Mount Lebanon.[20]

Muzaffer Pasha, 1902–1907

In Mount Lebanon, Muzaffer tried hard, perhaps too hard, to please different groups vying for power and influence within his jurisdiction. He was a soldier without experience in either provincial or imperial politics. He was willing to listen to the people around him, however, and do what he believed would be best for the people of the Mountain.[21] This inclination drew Muzaffer early in his governorship to a number of issues on which there was a degree of consensus among the Lebanese political elite. Thus he became convinced that the dearth of cultivable land available to the Lebanese was an obstacle to their well-being and a major cause of their drift to distant lands in search of a better living. He applied to the grand vizier and the governor of Damascus for annexation of the western Biqa' valley to Mount Lebanon. His colleague in Damascus, as well as the grand vizier, promptly snubbed this suggestion. Nevertheless, for some time he kept hinting in his letters to the Porte at the "problem" and the need to deal with it.[22]

Another issue that drew Muzaffer's immediate attention was the Leba-


nese grievance over the agreement Naum had signed with the French-controlled hookah tobacco monopoly. Muzaffer refused to renew the agreement under the same terms and backed the efforts of a group of Lebanese businessmen to form an independent organization for regulation of the import, export, and distribution of hookah tobacco in Mount Lebanon. The proposed organization guaranteed higher annuities to the local government, a contribution to the Hijaz Railroad project, and compliance with Ottoman customs regulations. The Finance Ministry vehemently objected to the proposal on the grounds that the central government's agreements with the Debt Administration, and the various monopolies affiliated with it, ruled out the formation of an independent concern dealing with the import and export of items governed by these agreements. Besides, if put into effect, the proposal would rupture the integrity of the Ottoman import-export and customs regimes, thereby preparing the ground for the autonomy of Lebanese ports. The French likewise objected to the proposal. Muzaffer was informed of these objections and advised to reach an agreement with the monopoly, but was not obliged to do so. The Porte's half-hearted interference enabled Muzaffer to secure from the monopoly significantly better terms than those Naum had accepted.[23] The Porte's ambivalence in this case appears to be deliberate, in the light of Abdulhamid II's consistent support of native interests against foreign concerns.[24]

The Porte was not as understanding, however, when Muzaffer actively backed Lebanese aspirations to develop Junia into an international port early in 1903. This intention was already implicit in the attempts to form an autonomous monopoly, as emphasized by the Finance Ministry. But Muzaffer was attracted to the idea more by his concern over the maltreatment of Lebanese passengers in Beirut than by Lebanese business or political interests. Along with the liberalization of travel regulations, the number of Lebanese going abroad or returning home had greatly increased in recent years. This situation had provided the network of middlemen, boatmen, porters, guards, and officials who controlled the Beirut waterfront with opportunities to exploit Lebanese travelers. As Muzaffer Pasha described the situation, outgoing passengers found it impossible to embark without paying these middlemen. Passengers coming from abroad faced a worse predicament. Unless they paid a handsome sum to the middlemen, supposedly for transportation from the ships to the docks, they hardly ever managed to set foot on shore. Outrageous threats and insults were commonly employed to persuade resistant passengers to accept the "services" offered them.[25]

Muzaffer sought in vain the assistance of Beirut's governor, Resid Pa-


sha, to end the plight of Lebanese travelers. Muzaffer accused Resid of shirking his responsibility and protecting the interests of those who were making illicit profits, instead of preventing the abuse of Ottoman subjects.[26] In an attempt to bring pressure on Resid, Muzaffer appealed to the European consuls, as representatives of the guarantors of Mount Lebanon's autonomy, to persuade the maritime company agencies in Beirut to stop dealing with the middlemen.[27] Simultaneously, he made arrangements with a British maritime company for its steamers to call at Junia directly. He then used this deal to persuade a French maritime company to do the same. But he had miscalculated; the Porte rebuked him for having called Ottoman sovereignty in Mount Lebanon into question and for being involved in activities incompatible with his duties. He was ordered to take "immediate and definitive" action to stop these international ships calling at Junia and to "abstain from doing even the minutest harm to the existing status quo [in the area]."[28]

The status quo upheld by the Porte favored, on the one hand, the interests of the French companies that operated the Beirut-Damascus tramline and the Beirut docks and, on the other, the guildlike alliance of middlemen, porters, boatmen, and officials who dominated the Beirut waterfront. An uneasy symbiosis existed between these two groups. The companies viewed the alliance as a barrier to maximization of their profits and wanted to gain control of the waterfront, but the alliance managed to hold its own—not least because of the solid backing of Resid Pasha.[29] The companies seem to have encouraged Muzaffer in his struggle to improve port services in Beirut in hopes of weakening the alliance. When he backed the Lebanese attempts to turn Junia into an international port in the immediate vicinity of Beirut, however, the companies turned against him as vehemently as the native Beirutis, lest they be deprived of the lucrative business of Lebanese travelers. This threat to French interests, and the suspicion that the British were looking for an opportunity to establish a foothold in Junia, prompted the French Embassy in Istanbul to throw its weight against the Junia project.[30]

Resid Pasha and the director of Beirut customs also rushed to demonstrate the infeasibility of this project to the Porte: Junia had inadequate port and customs facilities, lacked quarantine services, and could become a haven for smugglers. Besides, the government of Mount Lebanon might lay claim to the customs revenue accruing from international trade, on the basis of its privileged status.[31] Muzaffer argued that these inadequacies could all be overcome, just as he assured the Porte that the issue was not one of customs revenue but of the comfort and convenience of Lebanese passengers.[32] Still, the diplomatic dimension of the issue and the threat


that it posed to the "status quo," or to the symbioses existing between the Mountain and the city, the British and the French, and the companies and the guilds of the waterfront, all sufficed to convince the Porte that Muzaffer's action might seriously threaten the peace and order of the area. Hence he was severely rebuked. Muzaffer apologized and reported to the Porte the measures he had promptly taken to prevent any steamer from calling at Junia. He added, however, that so long as the abuse of the people of the Mountain continued in Beirut, the Lebanese both at home and abroad would exert mounting pressure on the Ottoman government, the European powers, and the maritime companies to open Junia to international navigation.[33]

Muzaffer's appeal for the proper treatment of Lebanese passengers fared somewhat better than his bid to provide the Mountain with an international port of its own, but only as a result of Resid's failure to maintain public order. In early September 1903, a series of clashes that erupted in the suburbs of Beirut caused the deaths of 27 people, as well as looting, and threatened to develop into an intersectarian confrontation involving the Mountain. These incidents convinced the Porte to pay closer attention to the affairs of Beirut. Resid was dismissed, and the governor of Damascus was ordered to take charge and restore public order. Simultaneously, a new governor and a naval squadron were dispatched to Beirut with special instructions to improve its administration and also to improve the operation of its ports. Judging by the report of a high-level inspection committee that was sent to the area soon afterward, conspicuous achievements were rapidly made on both scores. The report described in detail the ways in which passengers had been exploited and praised the new governor for the measures he had taken to ameliorate the situation. The inspectors also indicated, however, that these measures might be short-lived because too many Beirutis depended on profits from the waterfront, and the demarcation between licit and illicit profits had long since become blurred in their minds. Muzaffer, who also appreciated the achievements of the new governor, expressed similar concerns.[34]

Resid's removal and the reduction of tensions in the area, at least for the time being, relieved Muzaffer of only a few of his problems. The Porte had branded him as an administrator who could not calculate the wider implications of his actions. He lacked powerful friends in Istanbul who could help him change this image. He also lacked foreign support. The French were particularly dissatisfied with his performance. Without external support, Muzaffer often found himself obliged to bargain and work with local forces to run the Mountain, more so than had any of his predecessors. In this sense he resembled Vasa, but without Vasa's political ex-


perience and skills. Besides, since the days of Vasa Mount Lebanon's population had become internally and externally much more mobile and fluid, just as its political elite, old and new, had become more self-confident and sophisticated in their ability to use and influence the institutions of the mutasarrifiyya as well as the Ottoman framework within which it was set.

Muzaffer's weaknesses encouraged a group of Lebanese bureaucrats and politicians who saw the Administrative Council as the keystone of a fully autonomous Lebanon under their leadership. At the core of this group were Vasa's former protégés who were subsequently the leading organizers of the anti-Kusa campaign that had led to Muzaffer's selection as the governor of Mount Lebanon. During Muzaffer's term they adopted a "liberal" discourse similar to that of the "Union and Progress" movement, which aimed to end Abdulhamid II's authoritarian, conservative rule and was becoming increasingly popular among Ottoman bureaucrats, officers, and urban notables at around the same time.[35] From the beginning, Muzaffer felt attracted to Lebanese "liberals" more than to any other group. Thus, he appointed Habib "Basha" Sa'ad as deputy chairman of the Administrative Council and made Kan'an Zahir his most trusted district governor. Other influential members of the group, such as Jirjus Zuain, were also appointed to various administrative positions vacated by the dismissal of some of Naum's men.[36] Still others managed to win their way onto the Administrative Council through a new election system based on secret ballot introduced by Muzaffer (discussed in the next chapter).

The influence of the "liberals" on Muzaffer's efforts to broaden Mount Lebanon's boundaries, his negotiations with the tobacco monopoly, and his stance on the Junia issue, is unmistakable. One can even argue that they manipulated Muzaffer in each of these cases, taking advantage of his political inexperience, to advance Lebanese business interests and the cause of an autonomous Lebanon as much as the circumstances allowed. The liberal group also persuaded Muzaffer to give the Council full authority over the administration of financial affairs so that new sources of revenue could be created to raise salaries and finance new road construction and maintenance projects. This arrangement made possible the construction of 222 kilometers of roads under the exclusive direction of the Council.[37] During Muzaffer's tenure, the Council also acquired an effective veto power over the governor's authority to dismiss judges. For all its gains, however, the liberal group usually responded negatively or reluctantly to the various reform projects that Muzaffer himself advocated. Conservative groups, such as the Maronite Church and the princely notables, the likes of the Arslans and the Khazins, were even less cooperative in regard to these projects.


Muzaffer's attempts to make the municipalities accountable to centralized inspection met with fierce resistance. His appeal to the Porte for support, for his policies accorded with Ottoman law, was foiled by his opponents' arguments on the need to preserve the special status of Mount Lebanon. His efforts to rejuvenate the officer cadres of the local security corps and retrain them in modern military techniques were interpreted as an attempt to create a force personally loyal to him. In this case, his opponents, including some ardent defenders of Lebanese autonomy, accused him of deviating from Ottoman norms and laws and trying to establish an independent military school in Mount Lebanon. He also tried to establish special identity papers for the Lebanese, partly for revenue purposes and partly for bureaucratic convenience. Most Lebanese wanted neither to pay extra dues nor be enrolled in a government book, and hence some opposed his attempt to impose this general Ottoman practice on them, while others accused him, conversely, of trying to isolate Mount Lebanon from the rest of the Empire. Muzaffer's proposals to provide administrative and financial support for artisans and agriculturalists were considered unrealistic fantasies at home and met with only token support in Istanbul. He advocated new regulations of bureaucratic and judicial conduct, only to be mocked for being fastidiously formalistic.[38]

Whether Muzaffer's projects were or were not relevant to Lebanese problems is moot. Obviously he believed they were feasible, although the majority of the Lebanese political élite thought otherwise. In this sense he was out of touch with his environment. Under the circumstances, as he insisted on these projects and strove to defend his authority, he kept falling back on virtually the only weapon he still wielded, namely, his prerogative to appoint and dismiss administrative officials. He did so sometimes to cajole the liberals into supporting him, at other times to maintain a working relationship with the Maronite clerical establishment, and at one point to neutralize the Arslans. Early in his governorship he had restored the Junblats, who had allied themselves with the anti-Kusa campaign, to positions of authority in Shuf. The remorseless opposition of the Arslans that resulted from this decision helped to weaken Muzaffer's already tenuous position in Istanbul.[39] From about 1904 onward, as Muzaffer's relations with the Maronite Church began to deteriorate, his position became even more vulnerable.

Muzaffer had maintained cordial ties with the Church until a series of events in 1904 seriously disrupted this relationship.[40] Early that year, Muzaffer asked the patriarch's assistance to retrieve a Beiruti bandit hiding in the monasteries in the Mountain. The patriarch refused to cooperate, apparently distrusting the governor's sources of information. Muzaffer then


appointed to Batrun and Kisrawan district governors less amenable to the Church, acquired exact information about the bandit's whereabouts, had him arrested, and initiated an inquiry about his protectors.[41] Kan'an Zahir, who had replaced Rashid Khazin as district governor of Kisrawan, was the vigilant implementor of the chase and the inquisition. Rashid Khazin, the paramount Maronite notable and an ardent Francophile, initiated a campaign against the governor. The Church joined the campaign, along with the Arslans and the French Consulate. The Porte interfered in favor of the campaigners. Muzaffer made some concessions, such as dropping the charges that might implicate the Church and appointing a relatively moderate member of the Arslans to the district-governorship of Shuf, in order to appease them without alienating the Junblats.[42]

Otherwise he did not budge, for the Church's and the Khazins' agitation among the Maronites backfired, and a counter movement of anticlerical and anti-Khazin demonstrations erupted in Kisrawan. In fact, Muzaffer had to intervene to prevent these demonstrations from turning into riots. Petitions were drafted, praising the governor and condemning the Khazins and the clerics. Taken aback by this outcome, which threatened to rupture the Maronites and to weaken the Church's hold over them, the patriarch personally approached the governor in order to make peace with him and elicit his support of the Church, or at least assure his neutrality. Muzaffer wrote to the Porte that, "except for situations which endangered the public order," he had no intention of interfering in favor of the Church "to help it bring back under its submission the people who have finally wakened from their indolence and are now vehemently asserting their objections to the [oppressive] behavior of the clergy."[43] In keeping with this statement, Muzaffer moved Kan'an Zahir to Batrun, the heartland of Maronite clerical power, because, as he argued in a letter to the Porte, Batrun's district governor had been unequal to the pressure of the bishops there.[44]

Kan'an was a liberal bureaucrat committed to the cause of secular authority in the Mountain. In fact, there can be little doubt that the ongoing struggle between the liberals and the clergy for the leadership of the Maronite community underlay the events of the year 1904. To be sure, there were liberals, such as Sa'adullah Huwayyik, who favored close cooperation with the Church, and liberal-minded Maronite bishops, the likes of Yusuf Dibs, who advocated a change in the Church's attitude toward secular authority. Patriarch Ilias Huwayyik, Sa'adullah's brother, apparently empathized with this middle position, but he was determined to contain the challenge posed by the liberal group to the Church's authority. He did so by arranging a visit to Istanbul, despite the objections of the French. In Istanbul, he was received and decorated by the sultan.[45] Outmaneuvered,


Muzaffer dismissed Habib Sa'ad from the deputy chairmanship of the Administrative Council, as well as a few other officials with secularist or liberal tendencies. Muzaffer also made additional concessions to the Arslans, although he still could not prevent himself from becoming the subject of a book of devastating accusations from the powerful pen of Shakib Arslan.[46]

It did not take the liberals long to recover, however, thanks to their skills in grass-roots politics. In a showdown between the liberal group and the clerics in the elections of Kisrawan's Maronite councillor in 1907, the liberal candidate, Jirjus Zuain, won a clear victory over the incumbent, Yusuf Hubaish, who was actively supported by the Church. Muzaffer made no secret of the fact that he favored Jirjus, but he saw to it that the actual elections were fair—to preempt the certain complaint of the losers. Furthermore, he rushed to appoint Yusuf Hubaish director of foreign correspondence in order to appease him. Just when Muzaffer appeared to have learned the difficult art of tension management in Mount Lebanon, so as to keep all interested parties, including the Porte, more or less content, he succumbed to a pulmonary infection on 28 June 1907, three months before the end of his term.[47]

Yusuf Pasha and Ohannes Pasha, 1907–1915

Eleven days after Muzaffer's death, all the formalities were completed for the appointment of Yusuf Kusa, director of the foreign minister's private secretariat and the son of Franko Pasha, as the new governor of Mount Lebanon.[48] The convergence of powerful interests explains this record speed in the appointment of a governor. The French had demanded Yusuf's governorship. The British and the Russians acknowledged the priority of French interests and preference in the affairs of Mount Lebanon and the provinces of Beirut, Damascus, and Aleppo. Italy, which had joined the guarantor powers in 1873, also supported France in an effort to secure a sphere of influence of its own within the Ottoman territories. Austria-Hungary (Dual Monarchy) did the same, in order not to weaken its position in the ongoing negotiations over the future of the Balkan provinces of the Ottoman Empire. Abdulhamid II, the chief designer of Ottoman foreign policy, was in no position to contest a unanimous decision of these six powers, even if he wanted to. His very recent efforts and delicate maneuvers to resist similarly united action on other issues had clearly exposed the isolation and the desperate weakness of the Ottoman position in European politics at this time. Besides, the combined influence of the Arslans, the Khazins, and the Maronite Patriarchate in Istanbul in favor of Yusuf outweighed the hasty efforts spearheaded by Habib Sa'ad to per-


suade the sultan to block the appointment of a Kusa, as he had done in 1902.[49]

With this uniquely powerful coalition backing his swift appointment, Yusuf Pasha was able to establish his authority in the Mountain equally swiftly. True to the Kusa tradition, he set out to govern in cooperation with the leading notables and clerics and as a conscientious but high-handed bureaucrat. For about a year, Yusuf and his supporters managed to run the Mountain effectively and to reduce the advocates of the Administrative Council to insignificance. Neither the European powers nor the Porte showed any signs of regret over the Council's eclipse.[50]

The July 1908 Revolution in Istanbul, which brought the Union and Progress Society to the forefront of Ottoman politics, changed the situation in Mount Lebanon as everywhere else in the Empire.[51] At its outset, the Union and Progress Society represented a liberal position, calling for the replacement of authoritarian rule with a constitutional parliamentary regime and respect for basic liberties. The core of its leadership basically consisted of a progressivist and secular-minded group of government employees and intellectuals with middle-class or humble urban notable backgrounds. Trained in various modern professions, such as medicine, law, public administration, and military sciences, these bureaucrats (and bureaucrats turned intellectuals) felt qualified, even obliged, to guide the masses and the government from "darkness" to "enlightenment."

The 1908 Revolution was far from being a uniform movement, however. A medley of people with divergent political aspirations and interests, who felt dissatisfied with Abdulhamid II's lengthy and eventually oppressive rule, made common cause with the Unionists. Thus, Muslim fundamentalists and ardent nationalists, as well as the nascent modern labor organizations and conservative artisans and shopkeepers, joined in the same ranks cheering for "liberty, fraternity, and equality." Amidst the aura of freedom that followed the Revolution, long-suppressed thoughts, ambitions, and complaints found expression in a plethora of publications, meetings, organizations, strikes, and outright separatist movements. Soon the government lost control of the situation. In April 1909 a popular uprising erupted in Istanbul. The Ottoman bureaucratic and military elite, young and old, and Unionist or not, responded by crushing the uprising with all the might they could muster, true to the Ottoman traditions of statecraft that upheld public order as the fundamental responsibility of any government. Abdulhamid II, seen as the epitome of all the ills that afflicted the Ottoman State, was dethroned. Soon after, the Unionists, who had so far lacked a political program except for an optimistic belief that a


free, equal, and peaceful association of the different peoples and classes of Ottoman territories was possible under a constitutional regime, now began to reorganize themselves into an increasingly disciplined centrist political party.

Unity as an objective gradually came to mean, to the core group of the Unionist leadership, the subsuming of primordial interests to the paramount goal of survival of the state. To realize this goal, the Unionists directed their efforts toward bringing the entire governmental apparatus, including the parliament, under the control of the party. These efforts did not go unchallenged. Splits occurred within Unionist ranks, and alternative parties and political movements formed. Restraint of the centrist drive, recognition of ethnic and regional differences, freedom of cultural, professional, and political organization, and keeping the armed forces above politics were among the major concerns of the various opponents of the Unionist position and tactics. Thanks to this opposition, a degree of liberalism in public policy and cultural activities was maintained. The Union and Progress Party remained the single most important force influencing government policies, but it was not until the devastating defeat of the Ottomans at the hands of the Balkan states in 1912–13 that it acquired supremacy in state affairs under a militantly centrist and militaristic leadership, and with a distinctly corporatist program.

The foreign policy objectives of the Union and Progress Party underwent similar fluctuations. At the beginning, the leading Unionists and the ministers they backed were determined to seek an alliance with the British and the French, and they did so, literally, begging on their hands and knees, but in vain. At a time when war between the power blocs seemed imminent, Ottoman failure to acquire from Great Britain and France meaningful assurances for the integrity and security of the Empire led a group within the Unionist leadership to turn to Germany for a defensive alliance. It was this group that finally acquired control of both the party and the government on the verge of the First World War.[52] Until then, an uneasy coalition of pashas, shifting in accordance with the fluctuating balance of power between different groups and parties in Istanbul and other major urban centers, tried to steer the government through its difficulties.

The political complications created by the 1908 Revolution were reflected in Mount Lebanon. The immediate impact of the Revolution was the resurgence of the liberal mood. Yusuf Pasha, who earlier would not hesitate to order the arrest and punishment of even a few youths for chanting the Marseillaise and liberal slogans in their remote villages,[53] now had to live with public demonstrations held right below his balcony,


hailing the Revolution, celebrating the freedoms it promised, and demanding greater power for the people. At this point Yusuf had no choice but to cooperate with the liberal group and allow the Administrative Council to take the lead in decision-making. After all, the advocates of the Council as a check on authoritarian rule in Mount Lebanon were the closest representatives of the basically liberal—if amorphous—ideas and emotions that carried the day in the Empire in 1908.

The Lebanese liberals, who were active in the demonstrations, felt an explicit affinity with the Union and Progress Society at this point, although they were clearly more concerned with the future of Mount Lebanon than with that of the Ottoman State. This difference became manifest when the Council voted against the representation of Mount Lebanon in the Ottoman Parliament, after intensive discussions of the issue in Lebanese political circles. Opposition of the Maronite Church and of France to the idea, conspicuous indifference of the major powers to the recent developments in Istanbul, and uncertainties about the future of the revolutionary movement, not to mention the future of the Empire, persuaded the Lebanese leadership to concentrate on internal problems.[54]

Typically, the efforts to open Junia to international navigation resumed, this time in the name of "justice, equality and freedom of commerce," as well as "the promises of the Revolution to liberate the citizens of the Empire from the shackles of the old regime."[55] At first the central government tended to overlook these efforts. However, intensification of the usual complaints from Beiruti merchants and boatmen and the Beirut Customs Office, coupled with a major shift in the Cabinet, led to strong measures which briefly sealed off all Lebanese ports to sailing vessels as well as steamships. Talat Pasha, the prominent Unionist leader who had just entered the Cabinet as the interior minister, was the most forceful advocate of these measures. He argued that additional concessions to the Lebanese would strengthen their autonomy and further complicate Ottoman efforts to maintain order in that area.[56] Talat's overreaction was partly due to his inexperience in statesmanship, but it is also indicative of the determination of the more militant elements within the Union and Progress Party to repress centrifugal tendencies. This determination would find clearer expression in the centrist and corporatist stance eventually adopted by the party. In the autumn of 1909, however, the Ottoman government quickly moderated its decision concerning the Lebanese ports.

Extensive correspondence among various departments made it clear that the main purpose of keeping the Lebanese coast closed to international steamships was to protect Beirut's revenue. This was a political decision within the prerogatives of the central government by international


law, and the European powers could not and would not object to it. Extension of the prohibition to sailing vessels, however, was impracticable, and the threat it posed to the Lebanese economy would inspire recalcitrance and undermine all government authority. The Cabinet realized that if due measures were taken, shifting some of the traffic to Junia would appease the Lebanese without damaging overall customs revenue. But the prohibition concerning the steamships prevailed. Beirutis, not to mention the French, obviously wielded a greater influence than the Lebanese in Istanbul. Besides, the Porte had good reason to suspect that the Lebanese saw the deregulation of naval traffic as a preliminary step in bringing control of the coast and the revenue therefrom under the jurisdiction of the local government.[57]

The Lebanese were growing increasingly restive over the restrictions placed on their commercial relations with neighboring provinces and beyond at a time of good business prospects—as was the case from about 1890 to 1912. In reality, these restrictions benefited the foreign-controlled Ottoman Debt Administration (which had become the major recipient of the Beirut customs revenue in 1903) and its affiliates (such as the tobacco and saltworks monopolies), or the concessionary French companies and various interest groups operating in Beirut. Nevertheless, the Lebanese blamed the Ottoman system for the restrictions imposed on them and were increasingly vocal about the need to take matters into their own hands. This sentiment was manifest in Lebanese publications in Mount Lebanon and abroad, as well as in the conduct of the majority of the councillors who held that it was their responsibility to define what was best for the people they represented. The Porte viewed Lebanese independent-mindedness as a challenge to Ottoman sovereignty and was suspicious of moves that might reinforce Mount Lebanon's autonomy and privileges. But the guarantor powers, above all France and Great Britain, were equally wary of such moves, lest their vested interests and ability to manipulate the affairs of the area be jeopardized.[58]

The attitude of the Porte and of the European powers encouraged Yusuf Pasha to resume his high-handed style of government. Details of the consequent struggle between the governor and the liberal members of the Administrative Council belong to the next chapter. It needs to be emphasized here, however, that in this struggle the Porte sided with Yusuf more reservedly than did the representatives of the guarantor powers, as witnessed not only by Ottoman documents but also by Spagnolo's account based on French and British documents.[59] The Porte consistently denied Yusuf the authority he demanded to "punish promptly those who challenge the right of sovereignty of the Sublime State," and advised caution


and prudence. Grand Vizier Ibrahim Hakki Pasha's letter to Yusuf in February 1911 sums up the Porte's position:

We keep receiving requests for equitable justice from people who say that malcontents are repressed and subjected to such treatment as imprisonment and dismissal from office [under your government]. As it has been repeatedly brought to your attention, it is normal to bring charges against a person whose behavior calls for legal action and to implement promptly the legal judgment reached thereby. But recourse to repression in an exaggerated reaction to situations and protests which do not manifestly breach the law estranges and drives away the populace from the government and fans sedition. It is not a secret to your excellency that, unless considerations of public security render it absolutely necessary, display of power and brute force contradicts governmental wisdom, for obedience obtained by repression is temporary, whereas sagacious government by as magnanimous compassion and understanding as possible within the bounds of law assures success. Consequently, we kindly remind you of the need to handle the problems prudently. Try to do your best to provide the people [of your governorate] with the utmost peace of mind and to see to it that they all benefit equally from the blessings of justice. Abstain from action that contradicts the laws and that invites rightful complaints. We expect from you discerning performance which induces public contentment.[60]

Ibrahim Hakki Pasha's "advice" obliged Yusuf to moderate his style of government and to keep it that way until the conclusion of his term in July 1912.

The Porte's reluctance to give full support to Yusuf's forceful drive to make the Lebanese comply with central authority, which he represented, indicates that certain features of Ottoman policy in Mount Lebanon since 1861 continued to be relevant as late as 1912. Throughout this period, Ottoman policy remained committed first to the establishment and then to the maintenance of social and administrative stability in Mount Lebanon as a necessary condition for the reinforcement of Ottoman sovereignty in the area. If a tradition of statehood that emphasized public peace and order as a fundamental requisite of good government informed this policy, certain practical considerations rendered it inevitable. Above all, the Ottomans were constantly worried that serious disorder in Mount Lebanon might invite foreign military intervention, as had happened in 1860–61. This concern intensified with the rise of the importance of the region of Syria for the Ottoman government. Mount Lebanon was the


soft underbelly of Syria. In addition to its strategic location overlooking Beirut and the Beirut-Damascus road, Mount Lebanon was a bastion of French influence. The French made no secret of their ambitions concerning Syria, and counted on the Maronites, and above all the Maronite Church, to help them use Mount Lebanon as a stepping-stone into Syria. The Ottomans believed that a serious disruption of order in Mount Lebanon was certain to serve French ambitions and was likely to initiate a partitioning of the region between France and Great Britain.

Means and ways available to the Ottoman government to contain the French challenge to its sovereignty in the area were limited. The Ottomans tried to take advantage of the differences between France and other major powers, particularly Great Britain, as much as possible, in accordance with the prevailing international situation. They also deliberately supported French investments in other parts of the Empire in order to interest the French government in the integrity of the Ottoman State, as opposed to concentrating on Mount Lebanon and Syria.[61] Furthermore, the Ottomans backed the secular and liberal forces in Mount Lebanon in an effort to counterbalance the political influence of the Maronite Church, although only so far as this was feasible without seriously disrupting social and political peace. The Porte remained ever cautious and ready to intervene against developments that risked that peace. Whenever a governor tended to lose control of the situation, the Ottoman statesmen in Istanbul were there to arbitrate between disputing denominations, factions, and influential individuals, including the governors, in order to defuse the tension.

Four centuries of Ottoman presence in the area, the consequent impression of legitimacy, which the Règlement reaffirmed, and a shared political culture filtered through the legacy of the Tanzîmât , which recast the principle of equitable justice into a secular mold—all these informed and facilitated Istanbul's ability to function as a clearinghouse for major differences in Mount Lebanon. This situation, coupled with intensified relations among the Mountain, Beirut, and Damascus, linked Lebanese politics to Ottoman political networks to a considerable extent.[62] Istanbul's influence and visibility in Mount Lebanon correspondingly increased.

Influence and visibility, however, did not necessarily entail popularity. Parallel developments undermined the appeal of Ottoman sovereignty and, as things stood in 1912, rendered it a burden for most Lebanese. The Porte was reluctant to alleviate the problems related to Mount Lebanon's economic dependence on Damascus and Beirut for basic food supplies and commercial and travel relations. Clearly, the Porte viewed Mount Leba-


non's dependence on its neighbors as a means of keeping it under Ottoman control or at least preventing it from becoming a foothold of France in the area.

As a matter of fact, however, Ottoman authority as such had itself become a convenient tool for France and other major powers to perpetuate their interests. Adherence to Istanbul entailed submission to economic and legal restrictions based on capitulatory and other concessionary international agreements, which bound the Ottoman central government ever more deeply. If these agreements provided the Ottoman government with leeway, they also limited the resources at its disposal, making it increasingly vulnerable to external manipulation as well as internal dissension. In Mount Lebanon, as in other places, the government was doomed if it applied the concessionary legislation and measures, and doomed if it did not. Failure to implement them (or calculated laxity in their implementation, as Abdulhamid II tended to encourage at times) both invited external pressure and eroded governmental authority at large. Their forceful imposition, however, alienated the local population and hence also eroded governmental authority. Uprisings and separatist movements emerged wherever the local population could organize politically and benefit from an international conjuncture or situation unfavorable to the Ottomans.

In Mount Lebanon, fifty years of relatively autonomous and peaceful development had led to the rise of institutions and traditions that helped its people launch organized political action and also provided them with self-confidence in their ability to run their own affairs. A major force contributing to this outcome was the Ottoman policy that aimed at the preservation of peace in Mount Lebanon in an effort to win its people over, or at least to diminish French influence on them in due time. Yet in the eyes of the Lebanese, the restrictions emanating from Istanbul over the years outweighed the constructive aspects of its policy. It mattered little to most Lebanese that the restrictive Ottoman legislation and measures were largely embedded in capitulatory and other concessionary international agreements, perhaps understandably so. Mount Lebanon's special status within the Ottoman political system was itself a capitulation of sorts, by virtue of being under the guarantee of international protocols.

This internationally guaranteed distinction enabled the people of Mount Lebanon to develop a political identity of their own and hence encouraged them to dissociate themselves from the troubles afflicting the Ottoman State. The Lebanese were often in disagreement among themselves, but most of them did rally around opposition to the economic restrictions emanating from Istanbul. They blamed Ottoman rule for these restrictions and grew visibly restless over Lebanese dependence on the Ot-


toman system. They hoped that with due support from the guarantor powers, especially France and Great Britain, they could enhance Mount Lebanon's autonomy and eliminate the restrictions at an opportune moment. But how far would France and Great Britain be willing to accommodate Lebanese wishes? The talks for the appointment of a new governor to Mount Lebanon to replace Yusuf shed light on the question.

The years 1911–12 were disastrous for the Ottomans. They suffered staggering military defeats and territorial losses in the Italian and Balkan wars and exhausted the last vestiges of Ottoman prestige. As the future of the Ottoman State appeared bleak and its partitioning inevitable, the French government felt the need to assure Lebanese, at least the Maronite majority among them. On French initiative, the talks on the appointment of a new governor turned into negotiations for a revision of the Règlement . Aside from improving Maronite representation on the Administrative Council and other changes related to election of the councillors, the European powers and the Porte agreed to augment Mount Lebanon's autonomy in three respects. Lebanese dependence on Beirut courts in commercial litigation was eliminated; two Lebanese ports, Junia and Nabi Yunus, were opened to unrestricted international shipping; and the immunities and authority of the Council vis-à-vis the governor were strengthened.

It was also agreed, however, upon the Porte's insistence, that both ports would be subject to the Ottoman customs regime and the revenue therefrom would belong to the central government; that Istanbul would remain the place of appeal in commercial litigation; and that the French harbor and railroad companies and similar enterprises in Beirut would not claim compensation from the Ottoman government for their losses. Sensitivity of the Porte on the last point is self-evident, but the first two call for explanation. These conditions reaffirmed Ottoman sovereignty over Mount Lebanon and as such were reassuring to the Porte. They also, however, clearly accorded with the interests of the major powers, for the Ottoman customs revenue went in fact to the coffers of the Public Debt Administration, and keeping the Lebanese customs and commercial courts within the Ottoman system ensured the prevalence of the capitulatory treaties and the related laws and regulations in Mount Lebanon.[63] In other words, the link between Ottoman sovereignty and great-power interests was maintained. This was a limit that France and Great Britain would not transgress.

Lebanese determination to resist the restrictions was undeflected by their reaffirmation in the 1912 protocol. A protracted struggle between the Lebanese and the Customs and Public Debt officials dominated most


of the term of the new governor, Ohannes Kuyumcuyan Pasha. The Administrative Council, with enhanced powers and with Habib Sa'ad in charge, was the protector and at times the orchestrator of the Lebanese in this struggle. Its barely concealed aim was to win control over the coast of Mount Lebanon and hence over the dues and fees that Lebanese paid the Debt and Customs administrations. This struggle, the details of which will be told in a later chapter,[64] began at a time when a vehemently centrist government ruled in Istanbul.

In January 1913, a coup d'état brought the first predominantly Unionist cabinet to power. The internal policy of the various coalition cabinets that ran the government from 1908 through 1912 had basically been liberal, by force of circumstances if not by choice, because of the need to balance the disparate political forces and movements competing in the Empire. The Unionists had used their own influence on the coalition cabinets to urge determined action in order to strengthen central authority. Once in full power, and driven by a desperate sense of mission, the Unionists adopted a sterner position. They now held that rallying around the central government was essential to salvaging the state from the perilous position into which it had fallen. They showed little tolerance for local needs and concerns.

The Lebanese resistance to Ottoman legislation that imposed fees and dues on them sorely tested that residue of tolerance. The central government constantly urged Ohannes Pasha to use his authority to prevent unlawful action within his jurisdiction, and at times warned him that central troops might be dispatched against recalcitrants. Ohannes Pasha was not in a position to exercise much authority except with the cooperation of the Administrative Council. Furthermore, he was unwilling to take any action that would weaken the Council. This, he believed, would be unlawful and unwise, for he was a legalist bureaucrat and personally disliked confrontations. Instead, he chose to act as an intermediary between the Administrative Council and the Porte, pleading for moderation and mutual understanding. Limited though his influence in either Istanbul or Mount Lebanon was, his stance and especially his decision to act in cooperation with the Administrative Council helped to prevent a complication of events.[65] The resistance did continue until the Ottomans entered the First World War and placed Mount Lebanon under martial authority.

By the region's long-standing political traditions, which in this case pre-date the Ottoman era, martial rule means the suspension of regular law and the rights of the individual for reasons of state. Resistance now was certain to be treated as treason, and there would be neither a proper court nor a foreign consulate where one could appeal one's case. The Leb-


anese political leadership knew this and urged the cessation of active resistance to the authorities. Nevertheless, heads began to roll. Ohannes did not want to be part of a martial regime and resigned in May 1915. Upon his resignation, the central government abrogated the protocols and imperial decrees that governed the privileged status of Mount Lebanon.[66] Ottoman sovereignty finally reigned supreme, but at the expense of whatever respect for it remained. In years to come, it would be remembered mainly for the "Square of Martyrs," named for the Lebanese and Syrian leaders hung by Ottoman martial-law authorities, in a Beirut destined to become the capital of a new Lebanon. This was certainly not the outcome to which the Ottomans who dealt with the affairs of the mutasarrifiyya had aspired. They wanted to keep Mount Lebanon under the Ottoman flag, but they also desired the respect of its people. And for all their faults and the mortal weaknesses of the polity they represented, their overall efforts did help form enduring institutions in Mount Lebanon. The rise of these institutions is the story of the following chapters.


The Administrative Council

In 1861, when the mutasarrifiyya regime was first established in Mount Lebanon, the Lebanese were a people divided against themselves. Except for the Maronite Church, there was not an organization or a single group of leaders that could speak for a significant number of them. As for the Church, its generally sectarian stance on local issues and heavy reliance on France in external relations seriously impaired its ability to speak for the entire people of the Mountain.

By 1912, however, a political leadership representing the interests of different regions, sects, and dominant social classes had formed in Lebanon. The Administrative Council of the mutasarrifiyya had come to provide the institutional framework within which the Lebanese leadership endeavored to consolidate its conflicting material and moral interests according to preconceived norms and procedures. As it was an established electoral system that brought the councillors to power, their right to speak for the Lebanese was hardly challenged either internally or externally. This chapter narrates the evolution of the Administrative Council from its unimpressive origins to an institution of respected political leadership.

Composition and Duties of the Council

The 1864 Règlement stipulated formation of an Administrative Council to provide counsel to the governor (1864:art. 3). The Council was to consist of 12 members: four Maronites, three Druze, two Greek Orthodox, one Greek Catholic, one Shiite (mutawâli ), and one Sunni Muslim. The constituencies of the councillors were also specified. Batrun and Kisrawan would each elect one councillor, and they would both be Maronite. The three councillors from Jazzin were to be Maronite, Druze, and Sunni Muslim, and the four from Matn Maronite, Druze, Shiite, and Greek Ortho-


dox. The councillor from Shuf was to be Druze, and from Kura, Greek Orthodox. The only Greek Catholic member of the Council was to be elected by the town of Zahla, which was depicted as a constituency in itself (art. 2). This stipulation for the composition of the Council was based on rough estimates of the distribution of the population and landownership. The population and land counts completed in 1868 necessitated revisions; henceforth the Sunni councillor was elected from Shuf and the Shiite councillor from Kisrawan.[1]

The Maronites were not proportionally represented in the Council. While they constituted 57.5 percent of the total population and paid 51.2 percent of the land tax,[2] they had only four votes in the Council. There were, however, clauses in the 1864 Règlement and a number of administrative measures that ameliorated this underrepresentation. According to the 1864 Règlement , each village community as a whole, irrespective of its denominational composition, would elect a village sheikh (or headman) for itself, and the village sheikhs would elect the councillors from each administrative district. Although not explicitly stated in the Règlement , in practice the village sheikhs were elected from among the dominant denomination in each village.[3] Consequently the Maronites, who constituted the majority of the population in Batrun, Kisrawan, Matn, and Jazzin, and 30 percent of Shuf's population, found themselves in a strong position to influence the outcome of the elections, irrespective of the denominational specifications. In Jazzin, for instance, where three councillors were chosen, each from a different religious group, all candidates had to win the support of the Maronite village sheikhs, who were clearly in the majority. Aside from necessitating political alliances that crossed denominational lines, participation of the communities in election of the sheikhs and councillors helped the Maronites to accept the new regime more willingly.

An additional measure toward the same end was taken by Davud Pasha (1861–1868). He introduced the post of deputy chairman to the Council and appointed a Maronite to it. Such a position did not exist in the Règlement , which designated the governor as the natural chairman of the Council. Nevertheless, Davud's deputy in the Council participated in its meetings and ran it in his absence. This practice set a precedent for successive governors. The deputy chairman, invariably a Maronite, became a regular member of the Council with a right to vote.[4] In time, as the Council's power and prestige increased, the deputy chairmanship of the Council became the most coveted position in the mutasarrifiyya administration.[5]

At first the Council had a basically consultative function. According to the Règlement , its duties were to "apportion taxation, supervise the ad-


ministration of revenue and expenditure, and give an advisory opinion on questions submitted to it by the governor" (art. 2). In addition, the governor was obliged to consult the Council if, under unusual circumstances, he deemed it appropriate to call in the regular Ottoman troops stationed in the neighboring provinces (art. 14). These duties did not add up to much, and they were not even backed by specific sanctions, except for the Council's right to veto by majority vote any tax increases proposed by the governor.[6]

In an effort to generate indigenous support for the new regime, however, Davud Pasha and his successor Franko Pasha (1868–1873) encouraged the Council's participation in the government more closely than was stipulated in the Règlement . Settlement of internal disputes of minor diplomatic significance was left to the Council. The governors also sought the cooperation of the Council on a number of sensitive issues, such as the well-known resistance of Yusuf Karam.[7] It was the Council's power of veto over tax increases that eventually brought it to the forefront of Lebanese politics.

The Council's Weapon: Its Right to Veto Tax Increases

The Règlement set a maximum limit of 3.5 million piasters to the taxes imposed on the people of the Mountain. The tax revenue was to be devoted primarily to administrative costs and public benefits in the Mountain. If the expenditures absolutely necessary for regular administration of the Mountain exceeded the revenue from taxation, the Imperial Treasury would provide the difference (art. 15). A codicil, which was incorporated into the Règlement at the last minute in 1861 and remained in effect thereafter, stipulated that taxation could be raised above the predetermined sum if the governor, the Sublime Porte, and the Administrative Council agreed on its necessity. The codicil thus gave the Council the right to veto tax increases, and this right proved to be its most effective weapon against the governors.

Soon after establishment of the mutasarrifiyya , its expenditures began to outstrip its revenue because of expansion of the governmental apparatus and the implementation of projects to improve public security and transportation, as well as a modest economic revival and consequent price increases.[8] At first the Ottoman central government met the mutasarrifiyya's budgetary deficits with substantial subsidies. By the time of Rüstem Pasha's governorship (1873–1883), however, the grave deterioration of Ottoman finances precluded such help. Unable to subsidize the mutasarrifiyya , the Porte kept pressuring Rüstem to balance his budget. Rüstem's efforts to raise the fixed level of taxation or to introduce fees on


certain government services were nullified by the opposition of the Council. The Council, especially its Maronite members, insisted that the central government was obliged to subsidize Mount Lebanon's budget under the international conventions that ratified the Règlement . From the Porte's point of view, however, the subsidy was a benevolent measure directed toward the removal of internal tension and the foundation of peaceful order and effective administration in the Mountain. Once order was established, its financial burden was meant to be shouldered by the Lebanese themselves.

Perhaps it was natural for the Lebanese, as represented by the Council, to want to minimize their tax burden, whatever the cost and complications for the Ottoman government. But the Council's insistence on holding the Porte responsible for payment of the mutasarrifiyya's budgetary deficits made little sense in the face of Ottoman financial insolvency. Besides, in principle the international conventions obliged the Porte only to cover the deficit resulting from regular administrative costs and not to underwrite all budgetary deficits of its government forever. Under the circumstances, the Council's attitude raised the likelihood of having to make do with poorer public services.

Unable to raise additional revenue at a sufficient rate, and pressured by the Porte to balance his budget, Rüstem made rigorous cuts in salaries, reduced the size of the local security force, and cut down on other public expenditures as well. He also resorted to forceful measures to collect the regular tax arrears accumulated since their final waiver, in 1872. His policy helped to decrease the annual budgetary deficit, but it also widened the gulf between him and the Council on all issues. He ignored the Council altogether, hardly ever referring any significant issue to it for consultation.[9] By the end of Rüstem's term, the Council had solidly established its power to block administrative decisions on financial issues, but it had not yet demonstrated a capacity to offer solutions to the problems that adversely affected the regime, which was its raison d'être.

Early in Vasa's governorship (1882–1892), the Porte dispatched a significant sum to the mutasarrifiyya to help restore relations between the new governor and the Council, but on the absolute condition that the mutasarrifiyya never again incur a deficit. In the following years, the Porte no longer provided financial assistance except for occasional and usually insignificant amounts. Istanbul's determined position and other developments (discussed below) compelled the Council to reach a reconciliation with the governor over the creation of new revenue sources in order to avoid the impairment of governmental and other public services in the Mountain.[10]


The solution to the problem was the development of a hitherto insignificant item in the mutasarrifiyya's budget. This was the so-called muhmalât account, or the fees charged for financing specific public services and projects through the decision of the Council and under its exclusive control. The muhmalât will be discussed in the next chapter. It needs to be mentioned here, however, that during Vasa's governorship, this account developed into a distinct budget and steadily became both larger and more varied thereafter. The growing importance of the muhmalât budget did not dispel the tension between the governors and the Council over taxation. Whenever the finances of the mutasarrifiyya were strained, the Council would tend to insist on the Porte's financial assistance for a solution, while the governor would be inclined to raise the level of taxation fixed by the Règlement . Ultimately, if the sides agreed, they would create a new muhmalât item or raise the rates of the old ones. As the monetary funds under the Council's direct authority increased, so did its effective power and importance in Lebanese politics.

By the end of Vasa's term, the Council had already become the chief governmental agency responsible for the construction of public works, especially bridges and roads. It planned public construction projects, organized taxation from the people who would theoretically benefit from those projects, and saw to their implementation. These politically difficult tasks put the councillors at the center of public attention. This outcome cannot be understood properly without reference to Vasa's efforts to make the councillors cooperate with him. In order to attract them to his side, Vasa became involved in their elections, and thereby in the internal politics of the Mountain, more deeply than any of his predecessors.

Elections and Politics in the Mountain

According to the Règlement , the councillors were to be elected for a term of six years (by the village sheikhs, as described above). Re-election was possible. New elections were held for one-third of the positions in rotation every two years (art. 10).

In the earlier years of the mutasarrifiyya , the stipulations of the Règlement were applied quite informally. In Davud's days, the councillors were appointed only after consultation with the religious leaders and notables of each district.[11] Recourse to the village sheikhs' opinion began in Franko's days, and then only for the three councillors from Batrun, Kura, and Jazzin.[12] In these elections, the sheikhs were asked to appear on a specified day in the district seat to express their choice orally before an election committee composed of the district governor and judges. Rüstem Pasha introduced the "secret ballot." On the announced day of the elections, the


sheikhs wrote down their choices on a piece of paper and cast it into an election box before an election committee. They voted as they wished, but were required to sign the ballots and stamp them with their official seals.[13]

To the best of our knowledge, the elections, whether by consensus, the oral vote, or the signed ballot, did not lead to a significant rise in political tension in the Mountain until Vasa's time.[14] Political ambitions were directed toward acquiring administrative and judicial positions[15] rather than the relatively unimportant councillorships. The local notables and religious leaders almost dominated the elections through their influence over the village sheikhs, who were mostly semiliterate and had little experience of nationwide politics.[16] The peasant movements in the past and the dualdistricts period had provided the leaders of the Maronite villages with some experience in representative politics,[17] but they remained under the influence of the Maronite clergy. The Maronite Church was a powerful organization. It enjoyed the diplomatic and financial support of the French; had an intelligentsia of its own; controlled large tracts of arable land and other sources of livelihood; and wielded religious authority over the majority of the population.[18]

Davud Pasha realized that he had to make the new regime acceptable to the Maronite clergy. He encouraged them to play an active role in the administration in at least three ways that are pertinent here. First, he appointed to the Maronite judgeships people who belonged to the clergy or were backed by them. Second, he kept the most powerful Druze notables away from government posts and even physically away from the Mountain. Finally, he left the selection of the councillors to the clergy and notables. Davud's successor Franko, who had a closer relationship with the leading Maronite clergy, continued these policies.[19] The first two governors' conciliatory attitude toward the Maronites in general and the Maronite Church in particular facilitated the establishment of the mutasarrifiyya on a firmer ground than would have been possible otherwise.

The third governor, Rüstem, turned his attention to the accommodation of the powerful Druze notables. He also brought pressure on the Maronite patriarch and bishops to make them acknowledge Ottoman suzerainty formally and clearly. This was a demand that the Maronite Church, with French backing, considered an impingement on its autonomy. Rüstem also began to replace high-ranking judicial and administrative officials who were known for their affinity to the Maronite Church and the French Consulate with a cadre he held to be professionally better qualified to serve the interests of the mutasarrifiyya .[20] In turn, the French consul and the Maronite clergy launched a campaign against Rüstem.[21]

The conflict that erupted between the governor and the Council over


financial issues was partly a consequence of this campaign. A number of the Maronite prelates maintained that the governor wanted to increase their tax burden unlawfully and agitated against his authority. Their activity affected the councillors, especially the ones who came from the pre-dominantly Maronite districts.[22] Rüstem rebuked the councillors and treated them haughtily, thereby deepening the cleavage.[23] He believed that his opponents in the Council were being used by the Maronite bishops and the French Consulate in order to force him to observe a policy that catered to the partisan interests of the Church and the Consulate.[24] Hamdi Pasha, the governor of Damascus, agreed with Rüstem;[25] so did Rüstem's successor, Vasa.

Soon after his arrival in the Mountain, Vasa became convinced that certain councillors had exceeded the bounds defined in the Règlement by interfering in political and diplomatic affairs. To please the circles they served and so that "unbefitting" people could be employed in government jobs, these councillors had even opposed projects beneficial to their own country. Vasa inquired from the Porte whether dismissing these councillors was possible. The Porte's response was strictly to prohibit this. The grand vizier ordered Vasa to observe the rights of the Administrative Council stipulated in the Règlement . He also reminded Vasa that, as chairman of the Council, the governor was in a position to prevent the councillors from exceeding the bounds of their rights and duties. Even if a councillor persisted in ignoring warnings, in deference to foreign interests, a categorical decision was impermissible. Each case was to be handled individually, with reference to the damage done to the interests of the state and in accordance with the laws.[26]

Upon this response, Vasa turned his attention to the elections as the only means to alter the composition of the Council. New elections were due for four of the councillors in the spring of 1885. Vasa hoped for the replacement of the two he believed to be backed by the Maronite Church and the French Consulate. A month before the elections, he began to prepare the Porte for possible reactions against his election policy. He argued that

since the councillors were elected for an uninterrupted term of six years into a body that collectively represented the population [of the Mountain], their word bore some influence on the simple folk. Consequently, the election of the councillors from among those who adhered to a specific circle [with foreign linkages] would be inexpedient from the government's point of view.

If the Maronite Church and the French Consulate got their own partisans into the Council, this would entail the expansion of foreign influence and


"thus disgrace the government and adversely affect its interests." Vasa asked the Porte not to heed petitions that the opponents of his government would surely lodge, should their candidates lose.[27]

When the elections were finally held, the results turned out to be to Vasa's full satisfaction. All the candidates he favored won the elections by an absolute or near-absolute majority.[28] In later reports, he was to boast that in 1885 "he had smoothly managed to get elected councillors who shun adherence to foreign interests"—thereby confessing that he had designed the outcome beforehand.[29] In 1885, Vasa had caught the French Consulate and the Maronite Church unawares, preventing them from launching an effective campaign against the election results. At the next elections, however, due in the spring of 1887, the governor was to face sustained opposition.

To use Vasa's own classification, the "partisans of the government" and the "partisans of the French" found themselves involved in intense competition during the 1887 elections. These elections were again for four councillors: two Druze from Shuf and Jazzin, one Greek Catholic from Zahla, and one Maronite from Batrun. The Druze candidates supported by the government were certain to win the elections without serious challenge. Competition therefore concentrated in Zahla, and especially in Batrun, where close to 85 percent of the population was Maronite. In Zahla, the candidate supported by the government partisans won the votes of 28 electors out of a total of 41. In Batrun, too, Vasa's favorite, Kan'an al-Zahir, defeated the Church's candidate 'Assaf Baytar.[30]

Both results were immediately contested. Concerning Batrun, it was argued that ten villages had not been represented in the elections, as the sheikhs had been absent because of last-minute dismissals or other reasons. No time had been allowed to replace them. Besides, local administrative officials had been personally involved in propaganda for the candidates supported by the government. Furthermore, contrary to customary procedure, the administration had made the sheikhs vote in small groups by subdistricts and on separate days, instead of the same day.[31] A group of protesters marched from consulate to consulate in the streets of Beirut to demonstrate their dissatisfaction with the election results. They then came to Ba'bda to file complaints with the governor himself. Vasa sent them to the Council, which conducted an investigation and decided that the elections had been fairly held and that there were no legal grounds for contesting the outcome.[32]

Upon this decision, a new wave of protests erupted, with people marching in the streets and to Vasa's house in Beirut objecting to the Council's decision. According to their own account, there were 500 of them, includ-


ing village sheikhs and notables. According to Vasa, they were a "lowly" group of 70 to 80 consisting of peasants, workers, beggars, and the like who resided in the vicinity of Bishop Fraifir's residence in Batrun. Vasa not only refused to talk to them but, according to the protesters, he pulled a gun to disperse them. He also ordered the arrest and trial of five people who were alleged to be the ringleaders. The suspects were tried and found guilty: three of them were sentenced to a year's imprisonment, and the other two were fined. The decision was upheld by the appellate court, and Vasa made sure that the Council sanctioned the final decision.[33]

The French consul turned the case into a diplomatic issue that lingered on for several months, much to the distaste of the French ambassador in Istanbul, who favored the cultivation of good relations with the Ottoman government in order to serve French interests around the Empire, not just in Mount Lebanon and Syria.[34] Vasa took advantage of the ambassador's position to consolidate his authority in the Mountain and his influence over the Council. He arranged with the Porte for the release of the imprisoned by means of an imperial amnesty on the anniversary of the sultan's accession, provided that the French consul in Beirut acknowledge the legality of the elections. The French Embassy in Istanbul went along with the arrangement, and peace was made between the governor and the French consul.[35] This was an achievement that impressed upon the Lebanese Vasa's ability to influence the elections. The candidates supported by the governor had little difficulty winning the elections in 1889 and 1891.[36]

From the beginning, Vasa had set about bringing together a group of councillors who would cooperate with him. He believed the influence of the Maronite clergy over the councillors and their electors had to be broken. To this end he influenced the elections, with the assistance of administrative personnel willing to help him. His predecessor Rüstem had already made significant changes in administrative and judicial personnel to weaken the influence of the Maronite clergy in government offices. Vasa pursued a similar policy and strengthened the position of the administrative officials who had replaced the protégés of the Maronite Church. They in turn helped the governor procure agreeable results in the Council elections. They blocked the campaigns of candidates supported by the Maronite clergy and even used their authority openly in favor of alternative candidates. In doing so, they pitted themselves against the Maronite Church and invested their future in the institutions of the mutasarrifiyya . This group constituted the core of Vasa's "government party."

The Maronite Church continued to play a major role in all aspects of Lebanese politics, from mass demonstrations to diplomatic crises. Its


weight certainly entered the calculations of everybody from the village sheikhs to government officials and the governor. Nevertheless, by the end of Vasa's term the Church's power had declined, in the sense that it had to act within a more complicated system with firmer institutions, and bargain harder to perpetuate its interests against other circles of interest.

The councillors found themselves interposed between the Church and government "parties." Unlike the clergy, they were not directly linked to outside powers. Unlike the administrative and judicial officials, they were in principle elected and not appointed, and they could not be summarily dismissed. Under Vasa, councillors who wanted to be reelected had to reconsider their political affiliations and alliances, and cultivate good relations with the governor and his assistants. But that was only a necessary and not a sufficient condition for success. The councillors also had to retain some popularity to be worthy of support. Since such popularity would not arise if the councillors severed their relations with the Church completely, they were not expected to do so. On the contrary, the Council was encouraged to act as a buffer between the Church and the administration, as illustrated by the role it played in the anti-government demonstrations of 1887 described above. This position of the Council between the Church and government parties, and the principally autonomous constitutional status of the Council, enhanced its importance in Lebanese politics.

Vasa's conciliatory attitude toward the Council was yet another factor. He was always ready to come to terms with the councillors.[37] He bore no grudges against former opponents and was willing to make concessions to the Council, both as an institution and as a group of individuals. The development of the muhmalât budget is the best case in point. Each fee and duty proposed by the governor and accepted by the Council enhanced the Council's authority and the councillors' social prestige. Being in direct charge of monetary matters provided the less conscientious councillors with opportunities for self-enrichment.[38] But any councillor was in a good position to defend or promote regional interests, to distribute benefits, and to pursue the affairs of others in government offices, including the Council itself, which now actively participated in important governmental decisions. Given sufficient tact when dealing with older centers of power in Mount Lebanon, a councillor could turn himself into a political boss in his own right.[39] But in the early 1890s, the Council had yet to prove itself as a stable institution capable of acting in reasonable harmony.

Upon Vasa's death in 1892, an imperial decree authorized the Council to take charge of the administration until the Porte appointed a new governor. The Council failed to live up to this responsibility. Divided against


itself, with the Maronites and one Druze on one side and the rest of the councillors on the other, the Council became bogged down in petty quarrels for over two months. Twice the Porte ordered the governor of Beirut to act as a peacemaker between the two sides, but to little avail.[40] Meanwhile, 1,200 signatures were affixed to a petition that called for precautions to assure full freedom in the elections. The petition emphasized that since the village sheikhs were subordinates of the governor, he could at times dismiss them, thus retaining an indirect influence on the Council.[41]

In response to such complaints, two amendments were made to the Règlement by way of the protocol for the appointment of Naum Pasha as governor of Mount Lebanon in 1892. One amendment obliged the governor to respect the guarantees given to the judiciary and to base the dismissal of judges on investigations that should be carried out by the Council. This not only enhanced the constitutional authority of the Council, but also provided protection to electors against administrative fiat, since the village sheikhs were justices of the peace as well as electors and village heads. The 1892 protocol also stressed the importance of compliance with the duties of the Council and the need to secure the freedom of elections.[42] The grand vizier's instructions to the new governor confirmed the same points and warned against the recurrence of political tension over the elections.[43]

Naum Pasha (1892–1902) observed the form rather than the spirit of his instructions. From the beginning, he made it clear that he was unwilling to encourage enhancement of the Council's authority and influence. Within a month of his arrival in Mount Lebanon he dismissed the Council and called for new elections, claiming that the incumbent councillors had been "improperly elected and [had] earned people's hatred by serving their self-interest." Naum seems to have acquired the permission to dismiss the Council from the related ambassadors and the Porte back in Istanbul, although in later years Istanbul consistently claimed that such permission was never given.[44] The new elections brought back almost all of the former councillors, but for a good while their activities remained restricted to routine tasks. Naum did not even fully respect the Council's new right of inspection concerning the charges brought against judges, at least not during his first term. By his own confession, he gave this duty "only to the most capable members of the Council" as he saw fit.[45] A convenient convergence of local and international interests had enabled Naum to have the upper hand over the Council.

Naum was the nephew and son-in-law of Franko Kusa Pasha, who had helped resolve the feud between the Khazins, once the lords of Kisrawan, and the Maronite Church. The Khazins supported Naum. Yuhanna Hajj,


the Maronite patriarch who owed his position to the support of a socially conservative group of bishops and priests—who were mostly from Kisrawan, and favored moderation in relationships with political authority—also backed the governor. Naum, in turn, was readily willing to cooperate with the Church. He was also able to enlist the support of the powerful Druze leader Mustafa Arslan. This formidable local alliance was unhampered by the usual contradictions between the major international guarantors of the regime in Mount Lebanon, for Naum's governorship coincided with a period both of consensus of interest among the European powers regarding Ottoman affairs and of relative tranquility in Ottoman politics. Under the circumstances, Naum and his local advocates smoothly pushed into oblivion the key administrative officials who had supported Vasa, as well as the councillors.[46] The sociopolitical stability that marked Naum's ten-year term fostered a conformist attitude in Lebanese politics, despite all its underlying tensions. Councillors, bureaucrats, notables, and the newly rich adhered to similar manners and catered to similar values of social distinction, irrespective of their denominational, political, and class differences. In this sense, the period witnessed the rise of an enduring social elite that helped define a distinct Lebanese identity.[47]

One group within this elite had reasons to become increasingly wary of the rapprochement between the traditionally influential families and the Church because it implied the eclipse of the Council. These were the younger public figures in Mount Lebanon who had built their power bases in Vasa's days as a direct consequence of the enhanced importance of the Council and the councillor elections. They now realized that success in the system depended more on connection to well-established circles than ability in grass-roots politics. Defense of the rights of the Council as the representative of the Lebanese people served as a rallying point for this group. They began to form an anti-Kusa faction which, in their criticism of the establishment, contained liberal overtones. They seem to have had an influence in thwarting the efforts to prolong Naum's tenure or to appoint his brother-in-law, Yusuf Kusa, in his place.[48] Instead, Muzaffer Pasha was chosen to replace Naum.

The Council as the Representative of Lebanese

Muzaffer Pasha (1902–1907), whether by choice or necessity, sided with the anti-Kusa faction, thereby pitting himself against powerful vested interests. Under the circumstances, he kept falling back on the Council to provide weight to his major administrative decisions.[49] Simultaneously, he took measures to make the Council more representative of regional interests. These measures included introduction of the completely secret ballot


and more impartial supervision in both stages of the elections.[50] How effectively the new election procedures were applied in different parts of the Mountain is difficult to tell, but there is evidence suggesting that the elections became better organized, freer, and more competitive. In at least two districts, Kisrawan and Matn, secular alliances clearly outweighed sectarian differences, and the councillors tended to proclaim themselves "representatives of the people" with increasing assertiveness and self-confidence.[51]

Muzaffer frequently disagreed with some or even the majority of the councillors, but he did respect the duties of the Council and encouraged it to initiate financial projects of its own.[52] The Council once more moved to the center of Lebanese politics. Accusations of corruption against the Council and the governor mounted simultaneously. As Muzaffer's term approached its end, his opponents intensified their charges and campaigned for the appointment of Yusuf Kusa in his place. A number of the councillors, led by Muzaffer's long-time deputy Habib Sa'ad, openly opposed the idea. But when Muzaffer died in 1907, Yusuf was speedily appointed governor.

Yusuf Pasha (1907–1912) returned to power men who had served under Naum and began to put pressure on the Council. In April 1908, on the advice of his advocates, he suspended Shadid 'Aql, a Maronite councillor from Matn associated with the anti-Kusa faction, on charges of bribing village sheikhs in order to influence their votes in elections. Shadid did not have an unsullied reputation as a politician, but the legal flimsiness of the charges brought against him and the prolongation of his case due to administrative evasions justify his belief that he had been persecuted in an effort to prevent his running again in the 1909 elections, and to subdue the Council.[53]

Yusuf Pasha protracted the case as long as he could. His efforts in this regard were facilitated partly by the confusion prevailing in Istanbul in the wake of the 1908 Revolution and partly by the procedural ambiguities involved in the trial of a councillor. Neither the Règlement nor the protocols supplementing it defined the proper forum and procedures for the resolution of litigation involving a councillor. During Muzaffer's governorship, the Administrative Council had established itself as the forum of investigation into charges made against judges, in accordance with the protocols. A governor could no longer dismiss a judge without the Council's approval. By Yusuf's own admission, the Council had also established itself as the proper forum for investigations involving administrative officials, in accordance with the conventions of the mutasarrifiyya . The governor could still appoint and dismiss an official, but the charges brought


against an official in relation to his administrative duties had to be looked into by the Council.[54]

Yusuf interpreted the charges against Shadid as administrative in nature, but insisted that the Council could not sit in judgment upon its own members. He therefore formed a special inquisitorial committee consisting of some high local officials—all of whom happened to belong to the (conservative) Kusa faction, according to Shadid. Yusuf's intention was to pass the case to the administrative court of the State Council in Istanbul for a final decision. Meanwhile, he dismissed Shadid from the Administrative Council until the case was settled. Shadid and his lawyer Antuan Faris contested Yusuf's position. They considered the charge an accusation of plain misdemeanor and therefore demanded a speedy trial at the court of first instance in Matn. If the case were to be viewed as an administrative one, then, they argued, it should be taken into consideration that Shadid was not an official appointed by the governor but a councillor elected by the people to the Administrative Council, which, together with the governor, stood at the helm of Mount Lebanon's governmental structure. Consequently, Shadid could be dismissed from office only by the people who had elected him, unless he was found guilty in a fair trial or caught in a criminal act. Furthermore, only his peers—namely, the other councillors—could inquire into the charges against him in regard to his administrative duties, and not officials who in many ways were responsible to the Council. Under these circumstances, the governor's decision to dismiss a councillor, "whose status resembled that of a parliament member," was an arbitrary and despotic act directed against the people's will and opened the door for the abrogation of the entire Council.[55]

The legal basis of Shadid's defense was difficult to contest. Nevertheless, the State Council in Istanbul, whose personnel and organization were being restructured, adopted an ambiguous position on the procedural aspects of the case and at first considered it beyond its jurisdiction. Indeed, the administrative court of the State Council covered only cases of high officials appointed to their posts by a sultanic decree and functioned as an appeal court in cases involving lower officials. The forum for trying the latter cases was the provincial administrative courts. That the mutasarrifiyya did not have such a court was at first ignored by the State Council. At the insistence of the Porte, the State Council revised its position and agreed to hear Shadid's case. This decision put the Lebanese councillors in the same category with the highest-ranking officials of the state. Shadid was finally vindicated in January 1910, on the basis of a general amnesty declared in August 1909.[56] Meanwhile, Yusuf had effectively managed to prevent Shadid from running for re-election in 1909.


The only compensation Shadid received was the election of his brother Khalil 'Aql to replace him on the Administrative Council. Khalil's Greek Orthodox ally Ilias Shuairi was also elected to the Council as a representative of Matn. This outcome was facilitated by the turn of events after the July 1908 Revolution in favor of the defenders of the Council's autonomy. Yusuf Pasha himself felt obliged to appoint Salim 'Ammun as his deputy, in concession to the liberalist demands of a group of politicians and councillors. For about a year the "liberal" councillors dominated the government of Mount Lebanon.[57] Some of their deeds, however, could hardly be called liberal.

Their conduct in the elections held in Kura and Kisrawan early in 1909 is a case in point. In Kura, the elections were to take place in August 1908 to replace the deceased Jirjus al-'Azar, a close friend of the Kusas. Jirjus' son Fuad was the strongest candidate. The liberals wanted to contest him, but they needed time to work on the electors in favor of their candidate Jirji Tamar, and managed to postpone the elections. Fuad's supporters responded by accusing Jirji of bribery and machinations. The Council at first agreed to investigate the complaints, but later retracted this decision. The elections were finally held in February 1909 amid ongoing protests by Fuad's supporters, which ended in bloody clashes with the security forces. Fuad was arrested as an instigator, and the Council declared Jirji the winner of the elections.[58]

In the Kisrawan elections of March 1909, the incumbent Shiite Muhammad Muhsin ran against al-Hajj 'Ali Kazim. Muhammad was a humble person in comparison with his rival, but he enjoyed the support of his Maronite colleague Jirjus Zuain. Jirjus was the most impetuous of the "liberal" councillors and in a position to bring significant pressure on the Maronite electors as well as the administrative officials in Kisrawan. He used his means unabashedly to effect Muhammad's re-election. 'Ali Kazim appealed against the outcome to Istanbul, claiming that election regulations had been violated and accusing the Council of covering up for Jirjus. At this point, Yusuf opted to defend the Council against the charges, despite the strength of 'Ali's case.[59]

Under the control of the liberals and aided by circumstances, the Council had effectively curtailed the powers of the governor. A reaction was building against the liberals, however, among Ottoman statesmen, European diplomats and, most important, among the Lebanese themselves. Yusuf once again found himself in a position to contest the Council's autonomy. The tension that began to build between the two sides by mid-1909 finally erupted in a showdown of force in early 1910. Jirjus kicked the doors of Yusuf's office open because of Yusuf's refusal to talk to a "rep-


resentative of the Lebanese people," and as a result landed in jail and was brought to trial.[60] Yusuf turned the incident into an excuse to demand permission from the Porte to dismiss the entire Council.[61]

When the Porte refused Yusuf's request, petitions condemning the misconduct of the councillors, signed by individuals from different districts and groups, began to pour into Istanbul. These petitions accused the councillors of violating the election procedures in force, abusing their financial duties, and mismanagement of public funds for self-enrichment. Councillors were said to represent their own interests alone, and their dismissal was necessary in order to make possible the free and lawful election of honest representatives who would serve the development of Mount Lebanon.[62] Yusuf must have been instrumental in the preparation of these petitions, but it is doubtful that he could have instigated them without substantial support from the Lebanese themselves. Even if the accusations of corruption were typically exaggerated, the liberal councillors' partisanship seems to have evoked sufficient popular resistance to enable their opponents to launch an effective campaign against them.

In defense of their position, the liberal councillors went around the consulates in Beirut accusing the governor and his advisers of oppression. Their arguments imply that they wanted the governor to seek the Council's approval not only on financial issues but also on all important administrative decisions, including the application of Ottoman laws in Mount Lebanon and even the appointment of senior officials. The consuls were unmoved by these claims and quite openly sided with the governor.[63] Had the consuls agreed to the Council's demand for greater powers, they would have complicated the interests of their own governments. There were a number of agreements between the Ottoman and European governments that the majority of the Lebanese political leadership, for all their differences, considered as constraints on the economic development of the Mountain. A powerful Council was as likely to rule against these agreements as against other disliked Ottoman legislation. A development in this direction would have jeopardized the interests of the French above all, for they were the greatest beneficiaries of the agreements. The French might still have gone along with the demands of the liberal councillors had they trusted the ability of the Maronite Church to influence the outcome of the Council elections. But the complexity that the sociopolitical conditions and political alliances had acquired in Mount Lebanon deprived the French of that assurance. Consequently, they preferred to side with the governor, over whose appointment they and their British and Russian allies had greater control.[64]

The consuls' support strengthened Yusuf's hand against the liberal


councillors. He intensified the pressure on them in a number of ways, which included opening investigations against Khalil 'Aql, Ilias Shuairi,[65] and Muhammad Muhsin in August 1910 for their conduct in the 1909 elections. Once again the issue of the proper forum for the trial of a councillor was raised. Jirjus Zuain had been put on trial for an uncontestable offense that his colleagues, already weary of his impetuousness, found difficult to defend.[66] Charges brought against Khalil and Ilias, however, were similar to those brought against Shadid 'Aql—namely, bribery and entering into deals with village sheikhs to secure their votes. Nevertheless, Yusuf now adopted a different position. He interpreted the case as one of misdemeanor and asked the court of Matn to initiate an investigation. Using Shadid's trial as a precedent, the liberal councillors pointed to the administrative nature of the charges involved and insisted on their colleagues' trial by the administrative court of the State Council. Reminiscent of Shadid's defense, they also emphasized the special status of the Administrative Council and claimed that it should be recognized as the proper forum for interrogations on charges levied against its members. Finally, they reminded the Porte of the injustice caused by Shadid's dismissal, thereby proposing prevention of a similar development in the new cases.[67]

Indeed, Yusuf was looking for an opportunity to eliminate the liberal councillors and to bring the Council under his control. According to the pasha, the councillors who challenged his decisions wanted to turn the Council into a "Lebanese Parliament." These councillors were not only "corrupt," as witnessed by the constant complaints made against their misdeeds, but even more important, their political aspirations constituted a threat to peace and order, as well as to Ottoman sovereignty, in Mount Lebanon. Yusuf reiterated his request for authorization to dismiss the Council.[68] Grand Vizier Ibrahim Hakki Pasha, a jurist by training, saw the nature of the charges brought against the councillors as a matter to be decided by the governor. He strictly warned Yusuf, however, against interfering with the judicial process and against dismissing any councillor unless he was found guilty in a fair trial.[69]

Yusuf backed down and yielded to the Council's request to look into the complaints about the election of Kisrawan's Shiite representative Muhammad Muhsin. When the Council kept delaying the matter, however, he set up a special interrogation committee consisting of senior officials of his choice and applied to the Porte for permission to dismiss Muhammad from the Council.[70] Ibrahim Hakki once again opted not to interfere with the governor's decision about the course of inquiry to be observed, but he made clear that Yusuf's wavering did not escape the Porte's attention, and


he severely cautioned Yusuf against dismissing Muhammad or any other councillor. He also advised Yusuf to be cautious, not to alienate the people of his governorate, to tolerate protests and complaints that did not manifestly breach the law, and to try to win an enduring respect by compassion, understanding, and equitable justice.[71]

Without the Porte's approval, the legitimacy of Yusuf's policy was called into question, despite the support of the consuls. Yusuf's efforts to curb the autonomy of the Council by submitting its members to administrative authority had backfired. The Council emerged from the struggle with a number of important achievements. That it had a place at par with the governor and above all other offices in the governmental hierarchy of Mount Lebanon became recognized. Its right to have a say in the settlement of adversary proceedings pertaining to the performance of public services was reinforced. Furthermore, in litigations involving the councillors themselves, their immunity from dismissal until found guilty (except for cases in flagrante delicto ) was also established. The protocol of 1912 acknowledged these achievements. Last but not least, the Council had demonstrated that without its cooperation the governors could no longer rule Mount Lebanon, as shown by Yusuf's experience. In his final year in Mount Lebanon, he was left with no choice but to appoint Sa'adallah Huwayyik, the leader of the liberal councillors, as deputy chairman of the Council.

Yusuf's term ended in June 1912, and the appointment of a new governor was delayed for more than six months. During this period, the Council ran the Mountain—and smoothly too,[72] in marked contrast to the interregnum after Vasa's death. The councillors, with the liberals still in the majority among them, had evidently learned how to reconcile their differences and appease opponents in order to augment the support and respect they enjoyed from the public. The elimination of the controversial Shadid 'Aql and Jirjus Zuain from among their ranks may also have helped. Besides, the position long advocated by some councillors, that the Council was the representative of the Lebanese people and therefore deserved a more active role in the Mountain's administration, was gaining popularity within the Lebanese political and intellectual elite. The society of al-Arza (cedars), headed by Habib Sa'ad, a veteran advocate of the cause of the Council and a cautious politician, led the movement.[73]

The pressure the Lebanese put on the Porte and the guarantor powers to augment the authority and the assembly-like nature of the Council was reflected in the 1912 protocol for the appointment of the new governor.[74] In addition to alleviating some of the constraints on the Mountain's economy resulting from the agreements between the Ottoman and European


governments, which had been steadily opposed by the Council, the protocol included stipulations that broadened the autonomy and electoral base of the Council. The governor would be "unable to dismiss a councillor on the basis of accusations of fault, wrongdoing, abuse, and negligence of duty without due investigation, and without the Council's consent and approval." Concerning the elections, a representative of every hundred taxpayers would join the village sheikhs as electors of the councillors.[75] The protocol also stipulated that a fifth Maronite councillor, from the town of Dair al-Qamar, would join the Council as its thirteenth member, while the Druze councillor of Jazzin would henceforth be elected from Shuf.

When the new governor Ohannes Pasha arrived in Mount Lebanon in January 1913, he decided, in consultation with the Council and the Porte, to apply the new election procedures gradually, as the terms of the incumbent councillors came to an end.[76] Consequently, the councillors who had administered the Mountain on their own for six months remained in office—with the addition of Dair al-Qamar's representative.[77] Ohannes, following advice given him in Istanbul,[78] appointed a fitting person, Habib Sa'ad, as his deputy to the Council. Ohannes cooperated closely with him and governed the Mountain with the Council's now indispensable assistance. To be sure, relations between the Council and the governor were sometimes strained, but the differences were ultimately reconciled on the basis of mutual respect and concessions.[79] If this partnership helped individual councillors buttress their power bases, they in turn coalesced to make the Council representative of the complex network of political alliances that crossed the regional, sectarian, and class boundaries in the Mountain.[80] As such an arena of conflict resolution, the Council acquired a position akin to that of an assembly, at the hub of Mount Lebanon's governmental structure. To many, and above all to the councillors themselves, it appeared that Lebanon was only one step from becoming an independent state and that the Council spearheaded the development in that direction.

From the beginning, a basic organizational feature of the mutasarrifiyya regime had been a strong governor appointed by forces external to Mount Lebanon. It had been the responsibility of the governors first to set up the system and then to keep it operational by balancing all internal and external forces. So long as the people of the Mountain lacked widely accepted norms and established institutions to resolve their disputes, an external governor equipped with broad powers served as the nexus of the political set-up. He was often compelled to side with one or another of the


discordant groups in Mount Lebanon, but he remained the ultimate arbitrator and coordinator of interests until Yusuf Kusa's governorship. The Council assisted the governor in his task of arbitration to the extent that the governor acknowledged the interests of the Council—by necessity or by choice, depending on the circumstances. By Ohannes' time, however, the Council had reached a position to be able to lead the Lebanese polity, should external conditions allow. It had grown into an established institution with procedures and norms of its own; autonomy on fiscal issues; a significant weight in administrative decisions and litigation; and a structure as well as tradition that allowed it to claim to be the true representative of indigenous Lebanese interests.

It was the same Council that "spoke for Lebanon" and oversaw the Mountain's administration after the withdrawal of the Ottomans from Syria in October 1918 until the proclamation of the State of Greater Lebanon under French mandate in September 1920. And during the mandate days, it was the rich and hard-earned experience of the mutasarrifiyya's Administrative Council that inspired Lebanese politicians in their quest for effective political union within new boundaries, as well as in their continuing struggle for independence. We will resume the story of the Council during the days of the Great War and its immediate aftermath in a later chapter. Now we will turn our attention to the problems of taxation and the emergence of an autonomous fiscal administration, which played such an important role in enhancing the powers of the Administrative Council.


Taxation and Fiscal Administration

Traditionally, local lords apportioned and collected the revenue needed to run the affairs of the Mountain and pay the neighboring governors who represented the central government. Under Mehmed Ali's rule (1832–1840) attempts were made to centralize taxation, but they were interrupted by war in the area and fell short of changing the traditional arrangements. During the dual-districts regime (1841–1860), the total annual tax burden of the mountaineers was fixed at 1,750,000 piasters. But the chronic land disputes and the political confusion and administrative instability that marked most of this period prevented the proper collection and distribution of the taxes.[1]

A large portion of the taxes was left in arrears. After establishment of the mutasarrifiyya , some of this tax debt was erased from the accounts in order to facilitate the settlement of land disputes. The debt still amounted to 13.5 million piasters. Only 4 million piasters of this sum was collected, and the rest was waived.[2] Clearly, then, the average net total tax paid by the Lebanese during the dual-districts period did not exceed 1.3 million piasters a year. The fiscal problems of the dual-districts period indicated that any government in Mount Lebanon could hardly have managed its fiscal tasks without a properly centralized control apparatus coupled with tighter enforcement. Inevitably, however, the movement toward that objective had to begin amidst a decentralized social structure, and overcome the resistance of a population keenly attached to local and communal autonomy. The interaction between these opposing forces operated as one of the major dynamics shaping the Lebanese polity and society during the mutasarrifiyya period. The constitutional framework within which the interaction took place was determined by the Règlement .


Taxation Under the Règlement

According to the Règlement , the governor was responsible for the collection of taxes and administration of finances, while the Administrative Council was to distribute the tax burden among the population and supervise the administration of finances (1861 and 1864: arts. 1 and 2). Article 16 of the original (1861) version of the Règlement limited taxation to 1,750,000 piasters, but it could be increased to 3.5 million piasters when circumstances permitted. The tax revenue was to be devoted primarily to the costs of administration and public services in Mount Lebanon. If a budgetary surplus did occur, it would be transferred to the Imperial Treasury. On the other hand, if expenditures strictly necessary for the regular administration of Mount Lebanon exceeded the revenue from taxation, the Imperial Treasury would provide the difference. The Sublime Porte would not pay for the costs of public works and other extraordinary expenditures to which it did not acquiesce beforehand.[3]

A codicil incorporated into the Règlement ten days after the signing of the original protocol stipulated that taxation could be raised above 3.5 million piasters provided the governor, the Sublime Porte, and the Administrative Council all agreed on the necessity. Since this codicil became a cause of continuous dispute between the related parties, it is worth quoting in full:

The sum of [3.5 million piasters] mentioned in article 16 of the Règlement of June 9, 1861, does not constitute an absolute upper limit. While, on the one hand, it is appropriate to wait for extinction of the crisis brought about by recent events before taxation in Mount Lebanon is raised to the aforementioned sum, on the other, when the increase in expenses entailed by the new organization and reforms is added to existing revenue, the taxation will have to exceed even [3.5 million piasters]. It is clear that taxation can be raised above [3.5 million piasters] only by permission of the Sublime Porte, and with the consent of the majority of the local Administrative Council. Furthermore, the governor must resort to this possibility with utmost caution, and must always and before all else work for a true balance between receipts and ordinary expenses.[4]

When the Règlement was revised and a new protocol was signed between the Ottoman government and the five major European powers in 1864, the codicil was retained. Subsequent protocols between the Porte and the European powers concerning the affairs of Mount Lebanon likewise reaffirmed the codicil. The revised Règlement of 1864 also retained the original stipulation concerning fiscal matters, while clarifying a point


which apparently had led to some confusion: the behâliklar , or al-bikâlîk i.e., the revenues of the imperial properties, were to be independent of the fixed tax; these would be paid into Mount Lebanon's treasury on behalf of the Imperial Treasury (art. 15).[5] Although not expressed in writing, a consensus emerged among the interested parties to set taxation at the level of 3.5 million piasters, soon after initiation of the new regime. These stipulations and decisions established the basic principles which guided financial affairs throughout the mutasarrifiyya period. Accordingly, the main sources of revenue were the fixed tax and the revenue from the imperial properties.

Basic Sources of Revenue

1.   The Fixed Tax

The fixed tax was divided into two categories: (a) military service payment (bedel-i askerî ), or the head tax (rasm al-a'nâq ), which was popularly referred to as the farîda , "sacred obligation"; and (b) property tax (emlâk verqisi ) on land and rental income. The total fixed tax of 3.5 million piasters was divided between these two items, as explained below.

(a) Military service tax. On the basis of a "rather superficial" population census, completion of which, nevertheless, took until 1869,[6] the number of males over 15 years old was established at 99,834. An annual tax of 8.75 piasters was imposed on each, for a total of 873,547.5 piasters. The village headmen (who also served as justices of the peace) were responsible for equitable distribution of the tax burden for each unit of settlement. In later years the population increased, its regional distribution changed, and a significant number of people emigrated from Mount Lebanon to work abroad or in other parts of the Ottoman Empire. Despite this, a new census was taken only in the fiscal year 1913–14—and even after the new census, the tax burden for each unit of settlement remained unchanged, as determined by the earlier census. To avoid disturbing the delicate balance that had been established in Mount Lebanon between different communities, it was simply assumed that the population movements and increase left relative ratios unaltered (see Tables 1 and 2).[7]

(b) Property tax. Davud Pasha initiated a "rather simplistic and rudimentary" survey to measure and assess the value of the cultivated land and income-yielding buildings (musaqqafât ). According to that survey, which was completed in 1869, a total value of 125,069.17 dirhems was assessed. An annual tax of 21 piasters per dirhem was imposed, thus reaching a total of 2,626,452.5 piasters.[8]


Table 1.    Male Population and Distribution of the Fixed Tax in Mount Lebanon, 1866–1868,a By District and Sect


Male Population




Greek Catholic

Greek Catholic




















































Dair al-Qamar
































Head tax









Property tax


















Property tax percentage









     Total tax percentage









Sources: Sâlnâme, Cebel-i Lübnân , vol. 4, Bait ul-Din, 1307 (1889–90), 100; and Isma'il Haqqi, ed., Lubnân: mabâhith 'ilmiyya wa ijtimâ'iyya , 2nd ed. (Beirut, 1969–70), 636.

a. Tax figures are in piasters.


Table 2.    Population of Mount Lebanon According to the Census of 1913–14, By District and Sect




Greek Orthodox

Greek Catholic





















































Dair al-Qamar


































Source: Isma'il Haqqi, Lubnân: mabâhith 'ilmiyya wa ijtimâ'iyya , 2nd ed. (Beirut, 1969–70), facing p. 644.


Foreign observers as well as the Ottoman administrators agreed that distribution of the total burden of the property tax among different regions was not exactly fair. A memorandum from the grand vizier's office to Governor Vasa Pasha in 1888 inquired about a suggestion made by "experts" on Lebanese affairs: If a more accurate survey were undertaken to reassess property, it might be possible, without altering the current tax ratio of 21 piasters per dirhem , both to increase the total tax revenue by about 40 percent and to assure its fairer distribution. Vasa's response makes it clear that the British Embassy had raised the issue. Vasa admitted that at the time of the survey some cultivable land was either too minimally assessed or not assessed at all, due to the importunities of the Maronite clergy, particularly in the northern parts of the Mountain. His own tours of inspection clearly indicated that if the property tax paid in the north was raised to the level paid in the south, and if the tax was extended to land which had either been concealed at the time of the survey or opened to cultivation since then, the total property tax revenue would increase by even more than 40 percent.

Undertaking a new land survey, however, would hardly have helped the mutasarrifiyya's finances, unless the fixed limit of taxation at 3.5 million piasters was raised. According to Vasa, at best the British hoped to correct the unfair tax burden of the Druzes, most of whom lived in the south. Otherwise, the British well knew that raising the level of taxation would meet the opposition of the Maronite Church, with the backing of the French, and the Mountain would once more be plunged into turmoil. In fact, the Church and the French would create havoc even over redistribution of the property tax as it currently stood. Vasa held that it would be wiser to spare the expenses of a new land survey until a more opportune moment when the land-tax revenue could at once be raised and the inequalities involved in its distribution corrected.[9]

That moment never came, and the government never undertook another land survey in Mount Lebanon. Taxation remained fixed at 3.5 million piasters: 873,547.5 piasters for military service payment, or head tax, and 2,626,452.5 piasters for property tax, which were collected on the basis of the population count and land survey conducted from 1861 to 1869. The extra sum of 2,400 piasters that resulted from the fractional accounts was included in the muhmalât budget, the nature of which is discussed below.[10]

Occasional problems that emerged in the collection of the fixed tax were resolved without much difficulty, except for the case of Muaissara village. Muaissara's share in the tax burden evolved into a protracted issue. Muaissara was a small area of olive and fruit groves right at the out-


skirts of Tripoli. Most of its inhabitants were Muslims, while the owners of some gardens commuted from Tripoli. At the time of the formation of the mutasarrifiyya , Muaissara was attached to the district of Kura. Historically, Kura had not been a part of Mount Lebanon, but it was annexed to the mutasarrifiyya in 1861 in view of the predominance of Greek Orthodox Christians among its population. On the basis of this logic behind Kura's annexation and Muaissara's close relations with Tripoli, the Ottomans in 1871 claimed that Muaissara had been inadvertently incorporated into Mount Lebanon. They put it back under the jurisdiction of Tripoli, which was at the time a district of the Province of Damascus. The guarantor powers, particularly France, considered the Ottoman decision a breach of Mount Lebanon's territorial integrity, and used the issue to bring pressure on the Porte and the governor as it suited their purposes. In accordance with the vicissitudes of Ottoman—French diplomatic relations, Muaissara kept changing hands between Tripoli and Mount Lebanon. For the Lebanese themselves, the real issue was the impact of Muaissara's separation on the fixed tax of the Mountain. For a while, Muaissara's meager share of 59,140 piasters in the fixed tax was paid to Mount Lebanon out of the treasury of Tripoli. Later on, an attempt was made to distribute the sum evenly among other parts of the Mountain; this was aborted by the combined objections of the guarantor powers and the Administrative Council. Ultimately, the village was left under the jurisdiction of Tripoli while the total fixed tax of Mount Lebanon was reduced to 3,440,860 piasters; that is, the regular 3.5 million piasters minus Muaissara's share.[11]

2.   Revenue of Imperial Properties

The "imperial properties" (emlâk-i hümâyûn ) in Mount Lebanon were the other source of revenue specifically mentioned in the Règlement . These were certain groves, land, and buildings which were privately used by individuals in return for a payment of some form of rent to the government. This source of revenue, popularly called al-bikâlîk (hence, behâlik ) dated back to the amirate days, when the amir customarily collected a certain portion of the produce of specific groves and pieces of land for his "privy kitchen," but on behalf of the imperial government.[12] In fact, the term al-bikâlîk (from the Turkish word bey , for amir or military governor, used in its Arabic version bik ) of the Règlement is reminiscent of its origin in the "imperial properties."[13]

Since the rights of usufruct over these properties had fallen into turmoil in the final years of the amirate regime and during the dual-districts period, settlement of the government revenue due from them became an


important issue in the early years of the mutasarrifiyya .[14] After an assessment of the trees, land, and buildings, a total taxable value of 7,300 dirhems was reached. A significant effort was made to distribute this taxable amount equitably among the specific pieces of property, in keeping with general practice in similar cases throughout the Empire. Still, the confusion resulting from variations in traditional claims to usufruct precluded a coherent policy concerning the "imperial properties."

For example, certain olive groves, water mills, and rentable buildings were considered to be under full government proprietorship. Their proceeds and profits were farmed out on an annual basis. The sale and transfer of usufruct rights on a contractual (sukûk ) basis were acknowledged in the case of certain other groves, from which the government's share in the profits was determined by either the number of trees or the type of produce. As for those government lands deforested for purposes of cultivation, the customary practice of paying the government one-seventh of the crop was retained, except for some fields leased for a fixed annual sum. The government's share in the wood cut from woodlands and forests also differed from one area to another in terms of its amount as well as methods of collection. It was not possible to eliminate these inconsistencies until after enactment of the law for the administration of forests and agriculture and its application in Mount Lebanon, along with other Ottoman provinces, in 1915–17.

The revenue of the "imperial properties," which was collected according to such a complex set of principles, methods, and customs, did not exceed 383,000 piasters in the fiscal year of 1867–68; 365,000 in 1882–83; and 455,000 in 1913–14.[15] Although this revenue was collected on behalf of the Imperial Treasury, in accordance with the Règlement , only the written accounts reached Istanbul, and the actual proceeds were promptly deposited in the treasury of the mutasarrifiyya and spent in Mount Lebanon, to the last penny.

Additional Sources of Revenue

1.  Financial Subsidy

The fixed tax and the proceeds of "imperial properties," the mutasarrifiyya 's regular sources of revenue, hardly ever sufficed to meet its expenses. Until about 1875–76, the budgetary deficits were regularly made good by money transferred from the treasuries of the adjoining provinces or from Istanbul. Without this assistance, or "subsidy" (i'âne ), as it was called, the establishment of an effective administration in Mount Lebanon would have been out of the question. It is worth looking more closely into the nature of this subsidy as far as available data permit.


Detailed information on the exact amount and sources of the annual subsidy rendered to the mutasarrifiyya is not yet available to researchers. It is clear, however, that the expenses of building and maintaining a regular law enforcement force at the time of Davud Pasha (1861–1868) were paid out of the revenue of the Province of Damascus. Most of this subsidy came from the customs revenue of Beirut, which was part of the Province of Damascus from 1864 to 1887. For the fiscal year 1867–68 alone, an aid of 2.25 million piasters was allotted for Mount Lebanon. Furthermore, the central government undertook to pay a significant portion of the indemnity owed by the "wrongdoers" of the civil war of 1860 (who were mainly Druze) to the "wronged" (who were mainly Maronite).[16]

Similar aid continued to flow into Mount Lebanon during Franko Pasha's governorship (1868–1873). A document dated August 1869 indicates that the customs office in Beirut was expected to appropriate an annual sum of 750,000 piasters for the Mountain. In June 1870 this appropriation was raised to an annual sum of 2,225,000 piasters, to be paid in monthly installments. Other documents show that, despite the subsidy, the mutasarrifiyya ran into a deficit of 180,000 piasters which was met by the central government. The year after, aid of 2,225,000 piasters was again rendered to the mutasarrifiyya . Since the customs office in Beirut was able to pay only 1.5 million piasters of this sum, it became necessary to transfer funds from other sources.[17] Franko used the aid to improve the law enforcement organization that was being formed and for the construction of public works.[18]

From 1870 onward, the Porte began to advise the governors to balance the budget.[19] Not much could be done in that direction, however, for the Porte also authorized the governors to build public schools and an industrial arts school to "compensate for the harmful effects of the foreign schools" in Mount Lebanon. In the first year of Rüstem Pasha's governorship (1873–1883), the Imperial Treasury transferred 2 million piasters to the mutasarrifiyya to cover its deficit.[20] The remaining years of Rüstem Pasha's term coincided with one of the most troubled periods of Ottoman history. Between 1874 and 1876, natural disasters and internal confusion coupled with the enormous burden of overdue debts dragged the government into insolvency, while a protracted diplomatic crisis led to the disastrous war of 1877 with Russia. The peace negotiations, settlement of the immigrants from lost territories, the effort to restore Ottoman financial credibility, and many other problems resulting from the war overwhelmed the government well into 1882. In fact, the Ottoman State never fully recovered, financially or politically, from those troubled years.


Under the circumstances, aid to Mount Lebanon was bound to be interrupted and, eventually, discontinued. From 1877 to 1881, the central government was unable to pay the 2.1 million piasters of subsidy it had promised to the mutasarrifiyya . In the following two years the government again failed to fulfill its promise to cover the mutasarrifiyya 's deficit of 852,000 piasters from the revenue of Ankara and Adana. Meanwhile the Porte continued to put pressure on the governor to balance his budget. Since Rüstem's efforts to raise taxation were nullified by the Administrative Council's opposition, he cut down on expenditures and resorted to forceful measures to collect the tax arrears from 1873 to 1878, which had reached about 900,000 piasters. By the first and second years of Vasa Pasha's governorship (1883–1892), the annual deficit was cut down to 553,700 and 305,100 piasters, respectively. The Porte agreed to pay the mutasarrifiyya 858,800 piasters to cover the deficit of these two years, but on the absolute condition that the mutasarrifiyya never again incur a deficit.[21] In the following years, the Porte no longer provided financial assistance to the mutasarrifiyya except for insignificant amounts or under unusual circumstances, such as the 1.2 million piasters allocated to cover the pay raises to Lebanese security corps in 1913–14.[22]

Already, however, a considerable amount of "subsidy" had been rendered to Mount Lebanon, particularly in the first two, formative, decades of the mutasarrifiyya . This fund was largely used in forming a centralized law enforcement agency, which was organized along military lines to maintain security and order in Mount Lebanon. The subsidy also facilitated the construction of public works and greatly reduced the burden of indemnities on a politically significant segment of the population. The tax debt acquittals can also be considered a form of subsidy. In addition to waiving the 9.5 million piasters of tax arrears carried over from the dual-districts period, the Ottomans forwent 3.2 million piasters of tax arrears that had accumulated between 1861 and 1872.[23]

From the Ottoman point of view, the subsidization of the Lebanese was an act of benevolence directed toward removing local tension and founding a peaceful order and effective administration in the area. The Lebanese, especially the Maronite community, hardly shared the Ottoman view. They saw subsidization as an obligation imposed on the Ottoman government by the international conventions that ratified the Règlement .[24] The Administrative Council generally supported the governors' efforts to improve the quality of administration in Mount Lebanon. For a long time, however, the members of the Council expected this to be done at the expense of the neighboring provinces or the Imperial Treasury. They referred to article 15 in the Règlement (article 16 in its 1861 version) to hold


the Treasury responsible for the deficit related to current administrative expenditures, but they did not want to hear about the codicil that called for a tax increase.

A reasonable argument sometimes raised to justify this position was that the customs duties on Lebanese imports and exports, and the port fees paid by Lebanese travelers—whose numbers steadily increased from about 1885 onward—accrued not to Mount Lebanon's treasury but to the Beirut branch of the Imperial Treasury.[25] Indeed, the Beirut customs revenue had been the single most important source of the subsidies made to Mount Lebanon earlier. Having put 20–30 percent of its total revenue under the service of the foreign-controlled Debt Administration from 1882 onward, however, the Ottoman government was hardly able to raise the funds to cover even its basic operations. As for the port fees, there can be little doubt that Lebanese travelers paid high official and semi-official fees. A good portion of these fees went to the French company which ran the docks, and the rest was spent locally. Under the circumstances, the governors of Mount Lebanon, unable to increase the fixed tax because of local opposition, and no longer able to get assistance from Istanbul, had to find other ways to meet the growing expenses of the mutasarrifiyya . Once Istanbul determinedly refused to subsidize the Lebanese budget, the governors and members of the Administrative Council found themselves obliged to reach a reconciliation over creating new sources of revenue to avoid impairment of the administration. The muhmalât budget developed in response to that need.

2.  The Muhmalât Budget

Muhmalât (or sometimes mahmûlât ) was a term used to refer to a number of duties and taxes collected independent of the Imperial Treasury. Vasa Pasha compared them to municipality fees which were locally levied and spent entirely on local public needs.[26] Isma'il Haqqi described the muhmalât as duties the accounts of which were kept separately from the regular accounts of the mutasarrifiyya and, unlike the latter, not subjected to inspection by the Finance Ministry in Istanbul. The imposition as well as utilization of the muhmalât were determined by the Administrative Council.[27] Clearly, the muhmalât dues constituted a source of revenue, control of which was "abandoned" to the local population.

The muhmalât budget was initiated as early as Franko's governorship. Before establishment of the mutasarrifiyya , it was customary in Mount Lebanon to collect a bazaar tax from people who brought goods (mainly grain) for sale in the local markets. It was also customary to levy a tax on sheep and goats. Franko persuaded the Administrative Council to reacti-


vate these charges, with the condition that the consequent revenue was to be deducted from the earlier tax arrears and used solely for construction of roads in the Mountain.[28] In time, as the regular expenditures of the mutasarrifiyya steadily increased and subsidizing of its budget came to an end, the muhmalât fees developed into an important source of revenue. In 1886–87 they amounted to about 1,200,000 piasters.[29] More detailed figures are available for 1913–14, when the muhmalât budget amounted to 3,123,000 piasters: 1,670,000 piasters from about twenty different fees and duties, 953,000 piasters from road construction charges, and about 500,000 piasters from the muhmalât arrears of past years.[30] A closer look at the development of the major muhmalât items sheds light on the history of the mutasarrifiyya .

(a) Sheep and goat tax.

This oldest muhmalât item corresponded to the agnâm resmi which was universally applied in other parts of the Ottoman Empire. The tax per head of sheep or goats in Mount Lebanon, however, was lower than the rates elsewhere. Consequently, sheepherders in the neighboring provinces secretly moved part of their herds over into Mount Lebanon at times of annual counting, to reduce their tax burden. To prevent the losses suffered by the Treasury from such fraud, an imperial decree was issued to raise the tax rate in the Mountain to the level applied in adjoining provinces from March 1896. The data at hand, however, make it clear that the decree was not enforced, because the Administrative Council dodged it in view of Lebanese interests.[31]

In 1913 the annual sheep and goat tax rates in the Mountain were still 2.5 and 2 piasters, respectively. In addition, a head tax of 15 piasters was levied on each liable nomadic Bedouin and Gypsy wandering into Mount Lebanon. These two taxes were farmed out by the Administrative Council and brought an annual revenue of 268,000 piasters to the muhmalât budget.[32] Originally, revenue from the sheep and goat tax was devoted to the construction and maintenance of roads. In due time, it became necessary to invent new duties specifically to keep up the road construction work.

(b) Road charges and vehicle tax.

A striking feature of the mutasarrifiyya period is the importance attributed to transportation. Aside from the Beirut-Damascus and Beirut-Muzairib railways, which were built and run by foreign capital,[33] the Mountain's roadways were increased from less than 40 kilometers in 1860 to 1,144 kilometers in 1914. In addition to the macadamized highways that connected the major towns to one another and to the coast, secondary roads were constructed to connect the villages to the highways. If one takes the geographical peculiarities of Mount Lebanon into consideration, the difficulties and high costs involved in building


and maintaining roads and bridges will be better appreciated. Despite the difficulties, an effort was made under the leadership of the governors to construct a network of roads which played a vital role in the administrative unification and economic prosperity of Mount Lebanon.[34]

At first, the roads were built or repaired mainly through financial assistance provided by the Porte. It soon became apparent that in order to keep up the work, a special fund had to be created. The muhmalât revenue originated as a partial response to that need, and under Vasa Pasha new sources of revenue were added to it for the same purpose. He introduced the practice of making the beneficiaries share proportionately in the costs of construction and maintenance of roads and bridges. Each settlement traversed by a road under construction was expected to contribute 20–80 piasters per tax-paying resident, depending on the costs involved. Those who lacked the means could work on the roads for a small wage.[35] Once a road was built, annual maintenance costs were likewise levied on the beneficiaries. In due time the money thus collected from the people for the specific purpose of road and bridge construction acquired regularity and began to be called rub' al-majîdî (that is, one-fourth of a silver Ottoman coin worth 20 piasters). Unlike regular annual taxes, the rub' al-majîdî might be collected several times a year, depending on the need in a specific area.[36]

All issues concerning the rub' al-majîdî were settled by the Administrative Council, in consultation with the local administrators and leaders when necessary. Sometimes heated debates and a deadlock occurred in the Council over the need for or distribution of the costs of a proposed road. In the resolution of such problems, the governor and occasionally the Porte played a conciliatory role, with the utmost concern not to jeopardize this source of revenue which was seen as crucial for the good government of Mount Lebanon. To start with, Vasa Pasha had to overcome the stiff opposition of the Maronite community, led by the Church and backed by the French, to building a road along the coast in 1884-85.[37] Muzaffer Pasha, on the other hand, had to deal with the Druze opposition when, early in 1906, he increased the rub' al-majîdî from 284,000 to 507,000 piasters a year. The Porte acknowledged the urgent need for repair work and new roads, but instructed the governor to postpone the decision until the Druze were conciliated.[38] Despite the difficulties encountered, revenue from the rub' al-majîdî rose to 953,000 piasters by 1913–14,[39] indicating that recognition of the importance of transportation for the well-being of the Lebanese had prevailed over parochial interests.

Still another source of revenue devoted to the maintenance of roads was the vehicle tax. In 1913–14 it brought more than 228,000 piasters to the muhmalât treasury.[40] Along with the sheep and goat tax, the vehicle tax


was annually farmed out to the highest bidders through the Administrative Council. Only during the First World War years was a special government agency finally established to collect and administer such funds. Until then, the role that the Council played in tax-farming as well as awarding public construction projects continued to enhance the power and influence of its members.

(c) Mahsûl fee.

Members of the leading landed notable families tended to prefer appointment as a district head to positions in the central organs of the mutasarrifiyya . As district heads they could more effectively perpetuate their vested local interests and influence. Furthermore, in their capacity as executors of court decisions they could collect a 2.5 percent "produce" (mahsûl ) fee over all debt settlements and other matters involving money or value which were concluded through their offices.[41] Eventually bailiffs attached to the courts began to collect the mahsûl fee, which brought an annual sum of 83,000 piasters to the muhmalât budget in 1913–14.[42]

(d) The stamp tax and similar revenue.

The mutasarrifiyya had its own official gazette. Litigants had to pay a fee for publication of judicial decrees in this gazette. Subscription to the gazette also brought an income. In addition, authorization of contracts for the sale and transfer of immovables, copies of decisions by the Administrative Council and other official documents, and the endorsement of foreign proxies and similar papers were also subject to fees. Yet another source of income was the sale of official blank papers embossed with stamped seals to be used in commercial and legal transactions. Revenue that accrued to the muhmalât treasury from such sources was about 140,000 piasters in 1913.[43]

These fees and stamp duties were inspired by Ottoman practice and introduced gradually in Mount Lebanon. Concerned over standardizing legal and commercial transactions in the Empire, the Porte and the governors endeavored to implement the relevant legislation (such as the regulations for contracts, stamps, and stamped legal documents, and the law for the stamp tax) in Mount Lebanon from the early 1870s onward. These regulations would entail only a meager pecuniary burden on the Lebanese. Still, the Administrative Council held back from cooperating with the central government in extending this legislation to Mount Lebanon. Explicitly, the Council suspected that such a practice might set a precedent for future tax increases, and considered it a breach of the privileges granted to the Lebanese.[44] It was precisely along these lines that the Council appealed to Istanbul to halt application of the 1875 regulations for stamped legal documents in Mount Lebanon. In response, the grand vizier argued that this legislation was enacted to regularize transactions and to


protect the holder of a right, not to secure revenue for the Treasury. He added:

The Sublime State bequeaths and relinquishes large sums to the Mountain to perpetuate the improvement of its public order and works. Now, if the pleas for exemption from such trivial duties are complied with, and a [simultaneous] decision is reached to terminate the subsidy, to let Mount Lebanon henceforth settle its expenditures with its own revenue and make ends meet, its inhabitants will then indeed become afflicted with actual poverty.[45]

Assured of the support of the French consul general in Beirut, the Administrative Council remained adamant and persevered in its uncooperative attitude. The Porte compromised, obliging the Lebanese to comply with Ottoman formalities and regulations in legal and commercial transactions only outside Mount Lebanon. As interactions between the Mountain and other parts of the Empire intensified over the years, the Lebanese willy-nilly learned to conform to Ottoman regulations, but only so far as necessary. Within Mount Lebanon itself, the local government was left free to put out its own official gazette, issue its own official blank forms, and charge its own ratification fees in accordance with regulations set by the Administrative Council. Revenue from these sources accrued to the muhmalât budget.[46] Efforts undertaken in 1903 by Muzaffer Pasha and a group of councillors to regulate legal and commercial transactions not only helped standardize transactions, but also boosted the revenue from them. As expected, these efforts met with significant resistance, because they involved tax increases. Nevertheless, with due concessions to opponents, and given the neutral, if not supportive, position adopted by the French consul general in Beirut at this juncture, the governor was able to add a few items that remained permanently in the muhmalât budget.[47] The shift in the French position concerning tax increases appears to have been inspired more by conjunctural considerations than a genuine concern over the interests of the Lebanese. This impression is corroborated by the French position on the tax for workplaces.

(e) Tax on workplaces.

Under pressure to balance the budget, Vasa Pasha contemplated collecting taxes from foreigners and non-Lebanese who acquired workplaces and property in Mount Lebanon. Instantly, the French opposed Vasa's plan. They claimed that the amount of taxation and its pattern of distribution in Mount Lebanon were already fixed, and could under no circumstances be increased or altered. Vasa thought differently:

The privileges benevolently granted specifically to the Lebanese people by His Imperial Majesty the Sultan . . . cannot be interpreted as including the foreigners and non-Lebanese residing in Mount Leb-


anon. Furthermore, while a special privilege is granted to the Lebanese, allowing them to pay a fixed tax out of compassion for their evident destitution and other problems, the foreigners are reckoned to be more privileged, for no dues are collected from the revenue-yielding property at their disposal. On the one hand, this situation harms the Imperial Treasury, and is therefore totally inappropriate. On the other hand, a considerable amount of land in Mount Lebanon gradually falls under the possession of the foreigners, so that the Lebanese will inevitably find themselves obliged to work as cultivators and workers for these non-taxpaying foreigners, instigating a politically intolerable development.[48]

Vasa's early efforts to maneuver around France's diplomatic pressure against the projected levy bore no fruit. He could not win the support of the Council's majority, and the Porte preferred not to push the issue.[49] Vasa concentrated on obtaining support from among the ranks of influential Maronite leaders. He also lobbied intensively to affect the outcome of the partial elections to the Council in 1885. By November 1886 he had persuaded the Council to pass a tax on silk factories owned by non-Lebanese, including foreigners. At first the Porte upheld the decision. When the French ambassador to Istanbul officially protested against the tax as contravening the Règlement , and demanded its invalidation, the Porte asked Vasa to drop the issue.[50] Vasa's pleas to the contrary and his persuasive legal arguments, based on the codicil appended to the Règlement of 1861, were in vain.[51]

In this incident, the French had disregarded the validity of Vasa's position, "because of the degree of direct French investment in Lebanese silk production, and because the ultimate destination of much of the silk was France."[52] In 1907, French interests weighed differently. Involved in sensitive negotiations with the Porte over acquiring new concessions to build railroads and to undertake other investments in Syria and Anatolia, the French let Governor Yusuf Pasha have a free hand in Lebanon.[53] He forced the Administrative Council to consent to a new tax on all workplaces, by which 2 percent of the annual profits of textile and flour mills, shops, inns, restaurants, and similar workplaces was to be collected. A special commission would count the taxable workplaces and assess their earnings every five years. Later on the tax rate was raised to 2.5 percent, but apparently it was not rigorously applied. In 1913–14, it brought only 22,000 piasters to the muhmalât treasury, while a tax on gambling houses alone, which began to be levied that year, produced more than 32,000 piasters.[54]

(f) Tobacco and salt annuities.

All production and sale of salt in the Ottoman Empire were under government monopoly until 1881. In view of Mount Lebanon's privileged status, however, the monopoly did not ap-


ply there. After 1881, the salt monopoly was taken over by the foreign-controlled Public Debt Administration, and from then on the Mountain's exemption turned into an issue. The Lebanese used to smuggle salt into the neighboring provinces. To stop this illicit trade, the Public Debt Administration put pressure on the Porte for extension of the monopoly to cover Mount Lebanon. The French were caught in a dilemma between their interests in the Debt Administration and in Mount Lebanon. The governors usually sided with the Council, and delayed settlement of the issue until 1909. At that date, all salt production and sale in Mount Lebanon were put under the monopoly of the Public Debt Administration. It was held that Mount Lebanon's privileges were confined to those explicitly specified in the Règlement . Since the Règlement did not explicitly mention the seashores of Mount Lebanon in defining its borders, salt from the sea ought to be put under the monopoly.[55] This was done until 1913–14, when Governor Ohannes Pasha persuaded the interested parties to lift the monopoly in return for levying a tax of 25 percent on salt sales in Mount Lebanon. This measure checked smuggling to a certain extent and, more important, brought a revenue of 467,000 piasters to the muhmalât treasury.[56]

A similar problem arose with the tobacco trade. Tobacco sales elsewhere in the Empire were subject to a consumption tax which did not apply in Mount Lebanon. Ottoman efforts to control the smuggling of tobacco grown in the Mountain by levying a similar tax did not impress the European powers until after 1883. In that year, the right of monopoly over internal and external tobacco trade in the Ottoman Empire was handed to the Régie, a private company formed by several foreign banks in collaboration with the Debt Administration. In due time the Régie turned into a massive organization jealous of its monopolistic privileges, and thus eager to curb contraband trade in tobacco. As a consequence of the pressure it exerted, Governor Naum Pasha signed a six-year agreement with the Régie in 1892 to control smuggling. According to the agreement, which was renewed in later years with minor revisions, tobacco production and sales would be left free in Mount Lebanon. The local government and the Régie would cooperate, however, in controlling tobacco exports from and imports to Mount Lebanon. In return, the Régie would pay the muhmalât treasury a small fixed annuity and a share of the profits from Lebanese tobacco imports and exports.

This agreement did not cover the trade in hookah tobacco (tömbeki ), since that was the monopoly of another foreign private company working in cooperation with the Debt Administration. In order to curtail Lebanese contraband trade in hookah tobacco as well, a similar agreement was


signed between the company and governor Naum Pasha in 1897. This agreement was renewed, with much better terms for the Lebanese government, in 1902, under Muzaffer Pasha, as already discussed. In accordance with these agreements, the hookah tobacco monopoly paid the muhmalât treasury an average annuity of 90,000 piasters between 1897 and 1902, and at least 180,000 piasters between 1902 and 1914. The annuity which the tobacco Régie paid the muhmalât treasury in 1913 was 720,000 piasters.[57]

Clearly, the tobacco agreements provided the mutasarrifiyya with a handsome revenue, although they hurt the smuggling business from which many Lebanese must have benefited. The Council could not and probably did not want to oppose these agreements, since they represented a joint action between the Porte and the European powers. Nevertheless, the agreements reveal that by then Mount Lebanon's privileged status had begun to verge on administrative autonomy. The agreements were examined and approved in advance by the State Council, Finance Ministry, and the Council of Ministers in Istanbul, but they were actually contracted and signed by the governor as head of Mount Lebanon's administration. Similarly, it went unquestioned that the anticipated income would accrue to the muhmalât treasury.

(g) Other muhmalât revenue.

There were also other, minor, muhmalât items. The oldest muhmalât revenue, the bazaar tax, gradually disappeared from the accounts as it was taken over by the municipalities upon their establishment. Another old item, the fees on gun and hunting permits, brought 45,700 piasters in 1913. The annuity collected from the French company which ran the Beirut-Muzairib Railway amounted to only 15,000 piasters. Also, the sum that resulted from the fractional accounts of the regular revenues, and the income from administrative fines and the sale of identity forms (about 10,000 piasters altogether, in 1913) were credited to the muhmalât budget.[58]

3.  Taxes in Between Imperial and Local Accounts

All taxes, duties, and fees that were collected from the Lebanese were spent in Mount Lebanon. Yet the distinction between the muhmalât and Imperial Treasury accounts was carefully maintained. Furthermore, the muhmalât revenue spent on administrative expenditures was marked as credit to the Imperial Treasury, because the Council held that the Porte was obliged to cover the deficit in current expenditures, whereas the muhmalât duties were in principle levied to cover the cost of specific public projects.[59] However, there were muhmalât fees charged for government


services which, according to the Porte, were intrinsically related to the overall authority structure of the Ottoman Empire. Particularly after the 1908 Revolution, the Porte became sensitive to keeping these revenue items, namely, the passport and court fees, on the Imperial Treasury accounts, to assert the Ottoman rights of sovereignty in Mount Lebanon.

(a) Court fees.

Early in the history of the mutasarrifiyya , only a nominal fee was charged in law cases brought to the courts. The revenue was kept under the accounts of the Imperial Treasury. During Vasa's governorship, the court fees were both raised and extended to criminal cases, as part of the efforts to balance the budget. In return, this fee was put under the muhmalât accounts. After 1908 it was moved back to the imperial accounts, although with the stipulation that this important revenue item (658,000 piasters in 1913) would continue to be spent in Mount Lebanon.[60]

(b) Passport and travel permit fees.

In the Ottoman Empire, identity cards, and sometimes travel permits called mürûr tezkeresi (laissez passer ), were used for internal travel, and passports for external travel. During the reign of Abdulhamid II (1876–1909), acquisition of a passport became a privilege reserved essentially for people with a well-established business or position in society and considered unlikely to get involved in political opposition abroad against the Ottoman regime. As discussed earlier, this was also a period when an ever-increasing number of Lebanese wanted to go abroad to work. Acquisition of internal travel permits, supposedly to travel to Palestine for pilgrimage or to other parts of the Empire on business or for work, emerged early on as one of the major methods used by the Lebanese to circumvent official restrictions against external travel.

The Ottoman authorities at first overlooked this practice, and around 1892 accepted de facto a travel permit issued by the administration of Mount Lebanon as a passport of sorts, provided the traveler had a guarantor post a security bond against expenses the central government might incur to return the person home from abroad. Even though their travel privileges were liberalized through a special imperial decree in December 1899, the travel permit remained the basic document with which Lebanese traveled abroad until about 1910–11. In fact, when the central government briefly lifted the obligation to hold a passport for traveling abroad from about 1910 to 1914, the Administrative Council insisted that Mount Lebanon be exempted from the rule, evidently in a desire to keep the handsome revenue that accrued to its treasury from the issuance of travel permits and passports. Despite complaints from individuals and conse-


quent warnings from the Porte about the need to abide by the laws of the Empire, the local government of Mount Lebanon seems to have had its way, on the condition that it issue regular passports.[61]

Early in the history of the mutasarrifiyya , revenue from the small number of passports was not only considered an imperial revenue but was in fact sent to Istanbul. Revenue from the travel permits, however, was considered part of the muhmalât budget. Since the travel permits were treated as de facto passports until 1910–11, the regular passport fee of 100 piasters was collected from each applicant. In addition, the applicant had to pay a fee of 20 piasters for registration of the required security bond. In the wake of the 1908 Revolution, Istanbul insisted that revenue from travel permit and passport fees be shifted to the imperial accounts. Nevertheless, this revenue, which amounted to 222,000 piasters in the 1913–14 budget, continued to be spent in Mount Lebanon. Revenue from the security bond registration fee, which remained in the muhmalât budget, amounted to 44,400 piasters in 1913–14.[62] After 1908, the authorities in Istanbul evidently attached a symbolic significance to court fees and passport issuance in order to stress the integrity of the Ottoman legal system and assert the central government's rights of sovereignty over all parts of the Empire. In Mount Lebanon, however, the desire for additional autonomy had become stronger than ever, not least among the members of the Administrative Council. This discrepancy between the will of the central government and that of the Lebanese political leadership became manifest in the negotiations over Mount Lebanon's budget for the fiscal year 1913–14, which were further complicated by the mutiny of the Lebanese security corps demanding a pay raise.

The 1913–14 Budget, Mutiny, and Fiscal Autonomy

In diplomatic talks leading to the protocol of December 1912, the guarantor powers and the Porte acknowledged the need for reformation of Mount Lebanon's finances and its security corps. The diplomats agreed on few specific solutions to financial problems, however. They postponed the crucial issue of raising the level of taxation until their next meeting at the end of the new governor's five-year term. Meanwhile, the new governor, Ohannes Pasha, should undertake a cadastral survey and a population count, study the Mountain's taxation problems, and prepare suggestions for tax reform. The protocol also gave formal recognition to, and thus reinforced, the participation of the Administrative Council in preparing the Mountain's budget. In another provision, the protocol called for enlargement of the security corps into a force of 1,200, along with its reformation under the direction of a qualified officer. The costs of this reorga-


nization should be defrayed in a way to cause the least possible burden on the Imperial Treasury. A formal explanatory note which the Ottoman Foreign Ministry dispatched to the related embassies, before final ratification of the protocol, emphasized that the costs of reorganization would be paid out of Mount Lebanon's local revenue.[63]

Still struggling with the disastrous effects of the Italian and Balkan wars, the Ottoman government was unable to attend to Mount Lebanon's fiscal problems. Ohannes Pasha was expected to rush the cadastral and population surveys, to persuade the Administrative Council to raise the level of taxation accordingly, and to undertake the necessary reforms with the funds thus raised. In Mount Lebanon, however, Ohannes soon realized that the Administrative Council had its own interpretation of the 1912 protocol. First, the councillors had no intention of either rushing or financing a cadastral survey. According to Ohannes, the land-tax burden was unevenly distributed in Mount Lebanon, but since the main beneficiaries of this situation were "large landowners which included the monasteries and prominent Lebanese," the Administrative Council and senior local officials were unsupportive of a cadastral survey. Unable to rely on the local government, Ohannes made arrangements, pending the Porte's approval, to contract a private engineering bureau in Beirut for an approximate survey to be completed in three years at a reasonable cost. Ohannes wanted the central government to defray this cost, but he assured the Porte that, once the survey was done, the Council would duly agree to raise the level of the land tax and see to its equitable redistribution.[64] He probably hoped the European powers would bring pressure on the councillors to effect this. Otherwise, his argument makes little sense in view of the Council's intransigence not only on the issue of the cadastral survey but also on the urgent problem of the budgetary deficit, which negotiations for the fiscal year of 1913–14 placed in the limelight.

The preliminary budget prepared by the councillors for 1913–14 indicated an enormous deficit, which they expected the Porte to cover. Ohannes, "with great difficulty," persuaded them to cut the deficit to 2,682,000 piasters, still a large sum. This deficit comprised the administrative expenditures hitherto paid out of the muhmalât revenue, the estimated cost of the planned reorganization of the security corps, salaries for new positions deemed necessary, and finally, pay raises for all government employees, including the security corps, "as a precautionary measure against the corruptive influence of the rapidly rising costs of living"[65]

The Administrative Council was clearly resolved to make the most of its rights, as reinforced by the recent protocol. Hitherto, the Council's participation in preparation of the budget had steadily increased in conjunc-


tion with the growing importance of the muhmalât revenue. Its role in defining expenditures, however, was confined to those defrayed from the muhmalât budget, and was otherwise consultative and supervisory. The 1912 protocol allowed the Council to have a say in all expenditures. Combined with article 15 of the Règlement and the related codicil, this revision enabled the Council to adapt a peculiar stance on financial matters. It held that while article 15 obliged the central government to pay for expenditures exceeding the revenue from taxation but necessary for regular administration of the Mountain, the codicil allowed the Council to veto the attempts to raise the level of taxation just as the 1912 protocol permitted it to determine the necessary expenditures. In other words, the Council now thought it could increase administrative expenditures indefinitely without allowing a simultaneous increase in taxation, and hold the Porte responsible to cover the consequent deficit. This was the logic behind the Council's budget proposal for 1913–14 and its insistence on restricting the muhmalât revenue to specific public projects, as opposed to current expenditures.[66]

Ohannes considered the Council's position and demands as being not only "immoderate" but also "inconsiderate of the current difficulties of the central government," and hence "incompatible with civic-mindedness (hamiyyet )." Since he deemed the Council's cooperation essential for the good administration of Mount Lebanon, however, he entreated the Porte to subsidize the extra expenditures necessary to improve the situation of the security force. He requested an annual subsidy of about 1.2 million piasters for a number of years, until completion of the cadastral survey enabled the local government to raise the level of taxation. This sum would help give the security corps a long-overdue pay raise of about 20 percent, while also increasing their number from 930 to 1,000 for the time being, as opposed to the 1,200 stipulated in the protocol. Ohannes held that a compassionate response from the Porte to his request would be in accord with the commitment of the Ottoman government to maintain peace and order in Mount Lebanon and would also help convince the Council to moderate its position.[67]

Just as the Porte forwarded the Council's proposal and the governor's comments to the Finance Ministry for an evaluation, there was a new development in Mount Lebanon. Early on the morning of 20 April 1913, many of the security forces—or gendarmes, as they are called in Ottoman documents—who were on duty in northern districts began to abandon their posts.[68] With their arms, they gathered together to march to Ba'bda, the seat of the mutasarrifiyya . A Druze sergeant, Sheikh Tawfiq Tali', led the movement, along with Wadi' 'Abud, a Maronite sergeant-major who


joined the mutineers in Batrun. Many other gendarmes joined the mutineers along the course of their march, as they chanted songs and slogans demanding justice but otherwise retained military discipline. The mutineers spent the night of April 21 in Junia, resting, except for Tawfiq and Wadi', who met with a lawyer to draft a petition on the grievances of the gendarmerie. The petition emphasized the inadequacy and irregularity of payments and social benefits, such as paid annual and sick leaves and retirement compensation. It also aired complaints which exhibited a remarkable professional concern over the ability of the gendarmerie to fulfill its duties effectively. Toward this end the petition demanded training in military and legal matters, promotion on the basis of achievement and competence, and redefinition of the relations between the security force and administrative and judicial officials, with due respect and concern for its autonomy, integrity, internal hierarchy, and public prestige. Finally, the petition demanded an amnesty for all participants in the demonstrations, for theirs was "neither a strike nor an insubordination, but simply a just request to their father, the governor, for an end to their embarrassing inability to feed their families and fulfill their duties honorably." If their requests were not honored, the governor should accept their regretful resignations from service.

With this petition in hand, the mutineers resumed their march the next day. Habib Sa'ad, the deputy chairman of the Council, together with a Druze councillor and the governor's aide-de-camp, met the mutineers on the Nahr al-Kalb Bridge and tried to persuade them to return to their posts after entrusting their mission to a small delegation. His efforts were in vain. The march continued. On the outskirts of Ba'bda, members of the gendarmerie band joined the mutineers. As had been typically the case throughout this incident, the rank-and-file musicians politely ignored their officers' orders and answered the call of their mutinous friends. The mutineers, well over 200 by now, marched into Ba'bda in military order, complete with band. They halted in formation in the courtyard of the government palace and saluted the sultan and the governor with three cheers. Ohannes came out, delivered a speech expressing his compassion for them, and promised them an immediate settlement of their just requests. Once the governor withdrew to his office to discuss the matter with the councillors and a delegation of the mutineers, however, the soldiers in the courtyard began to shout slogans against the Council. In a brief moment of excitement, some demonstrators even entered the Council's regular meeting room and broke a few glasses and inkstands.

The gendarmes suspected that the Council's politicking over budgetary issues would continue to delay a correction of their grievances. Their pe-


tition suggests that they felt that the administrative officials exhibited indifference and even disrespect toward the security force and its problems. Other evidence indicates that the financial position of rank-and-file gendarmes had visibly deteriorated from about 1911 to 1913; this was the period during which the Administrative Council had been in effective charge of the Mountain. Despite the sharp increase in prices during these two years, the total annual sum spent on gendarmerie salaries had declined from about 3 million piasters to 2.4 million. Withholding the subsidy made to gendarmerie salaries out of the muhmalât budget appears to have been the main cause of this decline.[69] Capricious salary cuts in lieu of disciplinary punishment, irregularities in salary payments, and privileged treatment of the protégés of the councillors and other senior officials had also embittered the rank and file, who now nourished little hope of the Council's willingness to attend to their problems. Surprised and frightened by the demonstrations, the Council was more than willing to appease the gendarmes. It agreed to raise their salaries by about 55 percent, almost double the rate requested by the mutineers. The Council also agreed to put the muhmalât funds at the service of the governor for immediate payment of the new salaries. Ohannes put the finishing touch to these measures by pledging his word not to take disciplinary action against the mutineers.

The gendarmes were pleased. They spent the night in tranquility. Next day, however, some of them came together under Wadi' 'Abud's leadership to hold demonstrations with renewed excitement and strikingly new slogans. The demonstrators threatened to seize the customs and post and telegram offices if failure of the central government to subsidize the Mountain's budget should entail such depletion of local funds as to lead to discontinuation of the promised pay increases. Habib Sa'ad and a few other councillors rushed to the governor to urge him to call in the regular troops from Beirut to quell the demonstrators. After brief hesitation, Ohannes refused, deciding that a confrontation between the regular troops and the Lebanese gendarmerie might have serious repercussions, and also suspecting that the councillors were exaggerating the situation. Indeed, the demonstrations quickly subsided, thanks to the efforts of the gendarmerie officers. Ohannes once again promised not to prosecute the demonstrators. Nevertheless, Wadi', the sole ringleader of the last incident, disappeared, and did not return to his post until he was given assurances by the French Consulate and the Maronite Patriarchate.[70]

Ohannes was convinced that, although the original mutiny had started spontaneously, "certain circles which bore ill will against Ottoman sovereignty in the area" had set to work to take advantage of the discontent


among the gendarmes. Subsidization of the Lebanese budget had now become urgent to thwart the influence of these circles. Ohannes begged the Porte to grant his pending request for allocating at least 1.2 million piasters for three to four years, until a lasting solution could be found to the Mountain's budgetary problems. He also asked the Porte to send capable officers to inquire into the causes of the recent mutiny, to prevent its recurrence.[71] Grand Vizier Mahmud Sevket Pasha, a prominent Unionist general, was impressed with neither Ohannes' argument for financial assistance nor the way he had handled the mutiny:

. . . you ask us to allot a large sum to alleviate the needs of the gendarmerie. Their appeasement prior to an inquiry into the mutiny and without taking disciplinary action against the instigators will only encourage similar [unruly] behavior, as your excellency [should] well know. The preoccupation of the Porte with such problems in these critical days cannot be deemed appropriate.[72]

Mahmud Sevket Pasha still put the Lebanese issue on the agenda of the Cabinet, which found the monetary requests of both the Administrative Council and Ohannes grossly exaggerated and unreasonable. Taking into consideration the great discrepancy between the overall tax burden of the Lebanese and that of other Ottoman subjects, the Cabinet demanded that the Council either yield to an increase in the fixed tax level commensurate with the increasing costs of administration, or else that it agree to meet these costs out of the muhmalât revenue, to be buttressed by additional fees if need be. The Cabinet did not rule out, however, the possibility of some financial assistance, should the inspectors dispatched to Mount Lebanon, in compliance with Ohannes' request, recommend it.[73]

The Administrative Council responded to the Cabinet's decision vehemently, basically insisting on its position as described above, that the muhmalât revenue should be devoted to the construction and maintenance of public works, and that covering the necessary additional administrative expenditures was a responsibility of the central government in accordance with the Règlement . The Council added interesting details to elaborate its position. Mount Lebanon was a rocky terrain with poor agricultural prospects. The depression in silk prices had significantly reduced the major source of income for Lebanese, namely, silk cocoon production. Tobacco cultivation, once another important source of income, had become virtually extinct, due to competition from the tobacco monopolies. As conditions in Mount Lebanon drove an ever-increasing number of its inhabitants to distant lands in search of a living, even collection of the


existing taxes and duties from the people who remained behind became a formidable task.

Given these circumstances, the Council argued, the Lebanese could not be asked to pay higher taxes. A cadastral survey might help depict certain lands which hitherto had escaped taxation and thus somewhat raise the total revenue, but the established rates of taxation ought to remain unaltered. The Council admitted that the overall tax burden in Mount Lebanon was less than in other parts of the Empire, but argued that the central government should take into consideration the large sums Lebanese paid every year to the Ottoman customs and the post and telegram offices, and to various relief campaigns launched by the Porte. Besides, the Lebanese abroad generated commercial opportunities beneficial to the Ottoman State, while the reliable tranquility and loyalty of the people of Mount Lebanon enabled the Porte to run it at a lower cost than other provinces. In short, according to the Council, Lebanese needed and deserved the financial assistance requested from the Sublime Porte.[74]

The Council's argument about the inability of Lebanese to pay higher taxes was exaggerated. Contemporary evidence suggests that Lebanese were better off than their neighbors, mainly due to the lower taxes they paid and the remittances sent to Lebanon from abroad. The Lebanese economy enjoyed favorable terms of trade and a consequent cash inflow that could be tapped to improve public services and works.[75] The two inspectors sent from Istanbul returned with similar impressions. They stated that Lebanese could afford and therefore should pay additional taxes if they wanted a better administration. The head tax could be increased, and reasonable taxes could be levied on cocoon and olive production without an adverse effect on the economy. Profitable businesses, such as silk factories and hotels, could definitely pay a much higher property tax than the ridiculously meager sums they paid at the time. The inspectors were convinced that the Council's insistence on a subsidy was a purely political move, intended to take advantage of the Porte's difficulties in order to elicit additional concessions such as autonomous customs and postal services. If a subsidy were to be paid to Mount Lebanon, this should be done only to strengthen the governor's position vis-à-vis the Council. The inspectors thought that Ohannes lacked the strong personality his position required, but they did not question his loyalty to the Ottoman State.[76]

Ohannes himself was reluctant to characterize the Council as having a conspiratorial attitude toward the central government, as was suggested by the inspectors. He urged the Porte to understand the pressures operating on the councillors. There was much agitation in the area against the


Ottoman government. "Francophiles" were the main source of this agitation. They tried to make the people believe that the Istanbul government had over the years accumulated a huge debt to Lebanese by obliging them to shoulder administrative costs beyond their due. The agitators wanted to build a political case out of their claims, with the intention of trading off the supposed debt against Istanbul's consent to the extension of Mount Lebanon's borders and autonomy. This agitation, Ohannes observed, made the councillors reluctant to let the muhmalât revenue be used for routine administrative and public security expenditures, and encouraged some of them to hope that they could at least oblige the Porte to put the customs in Mount Lebanon under the jurisdiction of the local government.

Ohannes viewed the deepening breach between the Council and the Porte anxiously, for this situation rendered the Lebanese even more vulnerable to foreign and especially French influence. He was particularly concerned over maintaining the gendarmes' loyalty to Ottoman sovereignty. He criticized the Council for its reluctance to admit that the only way to truly solve the Mountain's budgetary problems was to overhaul and streamline its tax system and buttress it with sufficient tax increases. He believed he could convince the Council of this necessity, if the Porte provided him with some assistance as tangible evidence of the indubitable benevolence of the Sultanate toward its Lebanese subjects, and until the dust and commotion created by the mutiny and the Balkan wars settled.[77] The Ottoman Cabinet did at length decide to send Ohannes 1.2 million piasters but only for the fiscal year of 1913–14. In future years, the mutasarrifiyya was expected to reassess the land and other property in Mount Lebanon to raise the level of taxes, and to balance its budget.[78]

The Council had failed to wrest from Istanbul the financial control of Lebanese ports. To open these ports to international navigation and then bring them under the jurisdiction of local government had been primary objectives of the Council's liberal leadership for some time, as indicated in Chapter 3. The 1912 protocol had recognized the former claim, but not the latter. By simultaneously enlarging the Council's authority on financial matters, however, the protocol had provided the councillors with an opportunity to bargain for the latter objective as well. The customs revenue from Lebanese ports did not amount to a significant sum in 1913,[79] but apparently the councillors hoped it would grow in time at the expense of Beirut's revenue. The idea of incorporating Beirut itself within the jurisdiction of the mutasarrifiyya , with due assistance from France, was also entertained by some Lebanese. Ohannes' defense of the Council, however, suggests that the majority of the councillors did not consider this a viable option in 1913.


Indeed, with the centrist Unionists in firm control of the party and the governmental apparatus in Istanbul, and the Ottoman State drifting into the German camp as the war drums began to beat in Europe, the future of the mutasarrifiyya regime loomed uncertain, and cooperation with France extremely risky. Could the Lebanese be mobilized to endure a protracted struggle against Istanbul, which the drive for an enlarged Lebanon, or even a more autonomous Mount Lebanon, would call for? Contemporary Ottoman documents suggest that the Administrative Council could lead such a movement.[80] They also indicate, however, the flaws in the Council's leadership. Most significantly, the councillors had neglected to cultivate the support of the Lebanese gendarmerie, as the 1913 mutiny demonstrated. Also, the budgetary debates of the same year indicate that the councillors tended to overlook the inequalities in distribution of the tax burden in favor of the holders of large properties, including religious establishments. Although it is difficult to tell to what extent this situation undermined the councillors' influence in a political environment clearly dominated by patron–client relations, one can presume that the councillors would have to address the problem in a political struggle that called for mass support. At least some of the councillors appear to have grasped the importance of winning the support of the gendarmes, and the need for adjustments in distribution of the tax burden, in order to strengthen the Council's influence.[81] But whatever the individual councillors' thoughts on the problems revealed by the 1913 incidents, there was little time left to give them effect.

Upon the entry of the Ottoman State into the First World War, Mount Lebanon found itself in the clutches of martial law. Military authorities stripped both the Council and the governor of much of their powers. Confiscation of food supplies and burden animals for military purposes, combined with the cessation of remittances from abroad and other wartime difficulties, led to large-scale destitution in the Mountain.[82] The war proved devastating elsewhere in the Empire as well. But for the Lebanese, the continuous hardships brought upon them by wartime orders emanating from Istanbul and from Damascus, the regional military headquarters, contrasted sharply with the fiscal privileges and relatively low level of taxation they had come to enjoy over the last half-century under the mutasarrifiyya regime.

From 1861 onward, procurement of the financial resources necessary to cover the high costs of building an effective administration in Mount Lebanon emerged as a crucial problem for its governors. The regular revenue of the mutasarrifiyya was limited to about 4 million piasters, 3.5 million


from the fixed tax and the rest from imperial properties and other sources. This sum barely sufficed to cover the current administrative expenditures. In order to establish a viable administration that could effectively maintain peace and order in Mount Lebanon, however, a number of costly initial investments had to be undertaken. Particularly urgent were the construction of posts and garrisons for security and law enforcement, some all-weather roads for the prompt movement of troops and commodities, and similar public works.

In the first two and a half decades, these extraordinary expenditures were met by subsidies from the central government to the mutasarrifiyya . From about the late 1870s on, the Porte was no longer able to subsidize Mount Lebanon's budget. The search for a way to close the consequent deficits led to a protracted conflict between the governors and the Administrative Council. The Règlement had provided the Council with the right of consent over financial affairs, including tax increases. The Council was an elected body of the representatives of different districts and communities in Mount Lebanon. At the beginning, it reflected the deep regional and sectarian animosities existing among the Lebanese rather than functioning as an assembly representing general interests. In time, the pressure put on the Council by the governors to increase taxation worked as a force that brought the councillors closer together.

In appreciation of the ability of the Council to block new taxation, successive governors tried conciliatory solutions to the irritating budgetary problems. The muhmalât treasury (or budget) grew out of these attempts. It enabled the Council to have control over taxation beyond that specified in the Règlement . Simultaneously, the administration acquired an additional resource to continue to improve conditions in Mount Lebanon. A working relationship was thus established between the governor and the Council, although the tension was never dispelled. Whenever the finances of the mutasarrifiyya were strained, the Council tended to insist on the Porte's financial assistance for a solution, the governor on raising the level of fixed taxation. Both sides based themselves on the Règlement , but the ultimate solution was usually found—if at all—in creating a new muhmalât item or raising the rates of the old ones. In this ongoing struggle between the governor, as the agent of the Porte, and the Council, as the representative of the collective interests of Lebanese, the European powers—particularly France—played a crucial role. Threatened by French ambitions in the area, the Porte advocated a basically conciliatory attitude toward the Council. The Council counted on French support—but since French interests did not always suit the Lebanese in general, it often responded favorably to conciliatory overtures by the governors.


The Council took advantage of its position to increase its control over fiscal matters. Various councillors abused their powers for self-enrichment, and in general the Council tended to overlook the inequalities in the distribution of the tax burden, as well as in the benefits that accrued from government expenditures. Nevertheless, the participation of its locally elected representatives in financial decisions proved by and large beneficial to the people of Mount Lebanon. The councillors used their powers to keep taxes as low as possible, thus forcing the administration to economize—even if counterproductively at times. Where their resistance failed, they at least ensured that all the revenue extracted from the Lebanese was spent in Mount Lebanon, on the improvement of public services and works. In the meantime, there emerged a characteristic system of financial administration which further distinguished Mount Lebanon from its vicinity and buttressed its autonomy.


Judicial Organization as a Mechanism of Social Consolidation

There also emerged a characteristic judicial system in Mount Lebanon during the mutasarrifiyya period. Designing a system of justice that could help settle the protracted disputes which pitted the mountaineers against one another was a major concern for the preparers of the Règlement . A good many of its provisions were related to judicial affairs. Some of these provisions involved broad principles or specific issues, and their application posed little problem.[1] Another set of provisions that dealt with the organization of courts, however, proved problematic in practice. The Ottoman governors, who in general carefully observed the Règlement , felt obliged to deviate significantly from it in their efforts to build a court system in harmony with the social and political realities of the Mountain. The end result was a system in which judges representing different confessional groups cooperated in the settlement of disputes according to gradually standardized procedures. At first the system developed under the control of the governors, but eventually due measures were taken to secure the autonomy of the judicial process. The present chapter focuses on these interrelated developments, namely, on the rise of a court system peculiar to Mount Lebanon and of an autonomous judiciary that ran it.

The Court System

Three categories of civil and criminal justice were provided for by the Règlement . At the lowest level, there were justices of the peace (sulh hâkimleri or hâkim al-sulh ). Above them were the courts of first instance (bidâyet mahkemeleri or mahâkim dhât darajat ûlâ ). Finally came the Grand Judicial Council (mahkeme-i kebîr, majlis muhâkama kabîr ) or the Central Court (bas mahkeme ), as it was also called (1864: arts. 6–8). All commercial litigation in the Mountain and civil litigation involving for-


eigners, however, were placed under the jurisdiction of the Ottoman Commercial Court in Beirut (art. 9). Only after the revisions of 1912 were the courts of the Mountain also empowered to decide on commercial litigation involving the Lebanese.[2]

Justices of the Peace

The Règlement of 1864 gave the powers of justice of the peace to the village sheikh, also called "sheikh of the peace." Each sheikh was elected by the village community as a whole, irrespective of its sectarian composition. He heard and decided minor civil cases (involving up to 200 piasters) as well as petty criminal offenses. The sheikh's decision was final, although in disputes between parties of different sects the claimant might appeal to the first-instance court the sentence of a sheikh who belonged to the same sect as the defendant (arts. 7–8 and 10).

This arrangement represented an improvement over the 1861 Règlement , which stipulated the election of a separate justice of the peace for each sect in each canton (dâira ). In 1864, these stipulations were amended upon the insistence of Governor Davud Pasha, to avoid reinforcing sectarianism and causing undue delays in the dispensation of justice.[3] With the rearrangement, the services of the justices of the peace were brought closer to the litigants. Even more significantly, a means was created to mend sectarianism in mixed villages. In order to assure their election and reappointment, the sheikhs of such villages were obliged to remain over and above sectarian conflicts. Justices of the peace seem to have served their purpose. Complaints about the partiality or misconduct of individual sheikhs do show up in the archival documents, but virtually none about the system as such.[4]

Courts of First Instance

According to the Règlement , civil cases involving sums over 200 piasters and misdemeanors were to be decided on by the courts of first instance. These courts were also to review the appealable sentences of the justices of peace (arts. 7–8; compare 1861: arts. 7–9). At least three courts of first instance were to be established, each to be composed of one judge, one deputy judge, and six "official counsels" (défenseurs d'office, resmî da'vâ vekîli or wukalâ da'âvî rasmiîn ). Each "counsel" was to represent a different sect. A case affecting members of the same sect might be submitted solely to the judge of that sect, provided the other judge was also present during the trial. The judges and their deputies were to be appointed by the governor, but the counsels were to be "designated by the [respective] communities" (1864: arts. 6–7 and 10). Governor Davud Pasha (1861–1868)


established eight courts of first instance, one in each district center and the eighth in Dair al-Qamar. Despite the clear statements of the Règlement , however, neither he nor any of his successors ever allowed the election of official counsels to these courts. Explicitly, their conduct was a direct consequence of the negative experience they had with the counsels elected to the Central Court. As will be shown below, the public defenders in the Central Court tended to provoke sectarian antagonisms and slow down its operation.

Actually, the courts of first instance were composed of a judge, a deputy judge, and a scribe who assisted them. From the days of Davud Pasha, it became customary for the governors to appoint the judge and deputy judge from among the first and second leading denominations, respectively, of that district. Later, at the time of Governor Rüstem Pasha (1873–1883), it also became customary to appoint the scribe from among the third major sect in the district. This practice was clearly an acknowledgment of the fact that confessionalism was too deeply implanted in Mount Lebanon to be uprooted abruptly. According to the Règlement , the decisions in court were to be reached by a majority of the judges in principle. This principle implied that both the judge and his deputy had the right of vote in courts of first instance—but given the absence of stipulations in case of a stalemate between the two judges, the first governors opted to apply the principle in the Central Court alone. In courts of first instance, only the chief judge had the right of vote, although his deputy and the scribe were expected to influence his decision.[5]

Governor Vasa Pasha (1883–1892) disliked the consequences of this practice. He reported that as long as the final judgment depended solely on the absolutist vote of the presiding judge, the litigants who belonged to lesser sects could only depend upon his mercy for a fair trial. Inevitably, complaints about the judges lingered on, and the courts failed to serve the improvement of relations among the Lebanese, contrary to the well-known demands of the sultan in this regard, according to Vasa.[6]

Vasa took a rather bold step in order to deal with this problem. Without altering the established practice of selecting the judge, the deputy judge, and the scribe from among different communities, he extended the right of vote to the latter two as well and elevated them to the status of "members." In this way, the court of first instance turned into a council of three judges, with its "chairman" being from the largest and "members" from the second- and third-largest denominations of the district. Decisions were by a majority of the president and one other. Consequently, while the Maronite judges of the courts of Matn, Jazzin, Kisrawan, Batrun, and


Dair al-Qamar were obliged to share their powers and responsibilities with judges of other sects, the Maronite members of the courts of Kura, Shuf, and Zahla were provided with the right of vote. All in all, so Vasa argued, the Maronites, who constituted the majority of Mount Lebanon's population, had perhaps lost some of their former influence in judicial affairs, but no longer in any district in the Mountain would a dominant sect be able to oppress the others. All the Lebanese would rest assured about the equity of the courts and learn to cooperate toward a peaceful and prosperous society. Consequently, they would feel a greater respect for and loyalty to Ottoman sovereignty.[7]

Feeling confident about the conformity of his reformative measures to the essence of the government's general policy in Mount Lebanon, Vasa began to implement them without even waiting for the final acknowledgment of the Porte. Istanbul, however, was reluctant to approve the new arrangement. In accordance with established procedures, the Porte sought the opinion of the legislations section of the State Council on the legality of Vasa's measures. The opinion was that the measures represented a significant deviation from the Règlement . If confessionalism continued to hamper the impartiality of the courts in Mount Lebanon, that was because of the negligence of its governors in implementing the stipulations of the Règlement concerning the representation of the sects in court through elected official counsels. The Porte adopted the State Council's opinion and asked Vasa to abide by the Règlement . The Porte also cautioned the governor to refrain from action that might lead to foreign pressure.[8]

Vasa insisted on approval of the measures which he had already initiated. He brought to the attention of the Porte that all three of his predecessors had deliberately avoided the participation of the elected or designated agents of the communities in the district courts, for it was clear that such a practice would deepen, not mend, sectarian frictions. Until then, neither the Porte and the State Council nor the European guarantors of the Règlement had objected to this de facto situation, due to rational assessment of the conditions in Mount Lebanon. Returning to the letter of the Règlement should be out of the question, according to Vasa. The district courts needed to be improved, but not at the expense of past experience and accomplishments. Vasa asked the Porte for a revision of his orders. He had his way.[9] In later years, no major revision was made in the operation of the courts of first instance. The form which these courts took at the time of Vasa proved to be stable, although it significantly deviated from the stipulations of the Règlement . A similar deviation occurred in the formation of the Central Court (Grand Judicial Council) as well.


The Central Court

The Règlement called for the establishment of a Central Court at the administrative center of the mutasarrifiyya . This court was to hear and determine cases of felony and also to function as a place of appeal from the courts of first instance. It was to be composed of a president and six judges in addition to six official counsels representing the six major sects: the Maronite, Druze, Greek Orthodox, Greek Catholic, Sunnite, and Shiite communities. The president and the judges would be appointed by the governor, while the public defenders would be "designated by their respective communities." In cases which involved Jews and Protestants, their judges and public defenders would join the Central Court (1864: arts. 6 and 8).

There were two important interrelated differences between the original (1861) and revised (1864) stipulations of the Règlement concerning judicial affairs. Official counsels did not exist in the 1861 version. Instead, it was stipulated that the judges of all categories—that is, from the justices of the peace up to the judges of the Central Court—be "nominated and chosen by the leaders of the respective communities in consultation with the notables, and appointed by the governor" (1861: art. 11). Inevitably, this method of appointment would have put the judges more under the control of the notables and religious leaders of various communities than that of the governor. In 1864, upon the insistence of Davud Pasha,[10] the governor was empowered to appoint judges directly, except for justices of the peace (1864: art. 10).

In turn, the representative counsels were introduced, according to the Ottoman interpretation, in order to provide poor litigants with legal counsel and as a precaution against the possible sectarianism of the judges. From the beginning, however, the governors considered the conduct of the counsels a hindrance to the effectiveness of the Central Court. They reported to the Porte that the counsels tended to take advantage of their official position to perpetuate personal interests, resorting to every possible device, including fraud, in defense of their more influential electors. Instead of assisting the poor and counteracting sectarianism, the presence of the counsels in the Central Court had in fact been a cause of inequitable treatment of the poor, prolongation of cases, and the transformation of the Court into an arena of sectarian rivalry and conflict. It was precisely because of this outcome that Davud Pasha had refrained from the election of official counsels to the courts of first instance as well.

It was again in view of this same outcome that Franko Pasha (1868–1873) applied to the Porte in 1871 for permission to restrict the member-


ship of the counsels in the Central Court to criminal cases alone. He held that in civil appeals the litigants might hire the services of a professional lawyer. Precautions could be taken to provide the poor with similar services. Franko was granted the permission he sought.[11] Even after this limitation of the powers of the counsels, the governors continued to view their presence in the Central Court as a cause of disturbance. In 1875, along with a number of measures implemented by Rüstem Pasha to improve the efficiency of that court, official counsels were eliminated altogether from the Central Court.[12] It is informative to note that first restriction and then elimination of the official counsels were undertaken with the approval of the State Council, the permission of the Porte, and the implicit acknowledgment of the guarantor powers. It was an action that openly violated the Règlement , but apparently it was considered necessary even by the European powers, whose interests at the time converged on not hindering the Ottoman efforts to establish an effective governmental order in Mount Lebanon.[13]

It was as a part of these efforts that Rüstem Pasha restructured the Central Court in 1875. After eliminating the counsels, the Central Court was divided into two branches, one for civil and one for criminal cases. Also the number of regular judges was increased. Six judges from the six major sects were appointed to each branch, plus a Maronite president to the former and a Druze president to the latter. The civil branch functioned as a court of appeal for the civil cases determined by the district courts. The place of appeal for misdemeanors tried in the district courts was the criminal branch, which also independently decided on cases of felony. This rearrangement was intended to accelerate the judicial process and also to bring the operation of the Central Court into line with the new system of "regular courts" (nizâmiye mahkemeleri ) that was being established in the Empire.[14]

According to Vasa Pasha, the new arrangement fell short of both objectives. Vasa complained about the continued accumulation of cases at the Central Court. He attributed the delays above all to the confusion that reigned about the laws and legal procedures to be observed in Mount Lebanon. The judges of district courts freely resorted to canonical law, to previously abolished legislation such as the regulations for the commercial courts, to local custom, and to the laws of procedure for civil and criminal cases that were enacted in 1879–80. They decided cases that came before them according to those of the old and new laws and regulations with which they were most familiar. Quite frequently, a judge also made his choice with the deliberate intention of supporting one of the litigants, usually the one of the same sect as the judge. Under these circumstances,


almost any person who lost his case could and did appeal the sentence on procedural grounds.[15]

Yet the same confusion about legal and procedural standards prevailed also in the Central Court, whose decisions were not uncommonly based on grounds inconsistent both in themselves and with legal procedures prevailing in the Empire. This inconsistency in general procedures directly affected the activities of the criminal branch of the Central Court, for its decrees were subject to review by the High Court of Appeal in Istanbul, automatically in cases of murder and upon appeal in other cases of felony. The High Court of Appeal returned most of the dossiers which came from Mount Lebanon's Central Court for nonobservance of the relevant laws of procedure. The obligation to rehandle the invalidated cases further increased the Central Court's work.[16]

The decrees of the civil branch were accepted as final. At first sight, this practice, which was implicitly based on the Règlement ,[17] appeared to have simplified the task of the Central Court. Vasa, however, believed that leaving the civil cases outside the jurisdiction of the High Court of Appeal in Istanbul meant not only allowing the courts of Mount Lebanon partial independence, but also missing an opportunity to standardize their legal and procedural practices. Vasa asked permission of the Porte to enforce the laws of procedure for criminal and civil cases of 1879 and 1880 as the sole basis of judicial proceedings in Mount Lebanon. He held that this measure, together with the reorganization of the courts of first instance discussed above, would greatly reduce the workload of the Central Court. The number of its judges could thus be cut in half, making some savings in the budget possible. In 1884, the Porte complied with the governor's request.[18]

For some time, these measures proved to be effective. The appeals to the Central Court decreased in number, and the dossiers that had long dragged on due to procedural problems were rapidly cleared out.[19] Soon, however, cases began to accumulate once again. The duties of the Central Court were still too numerous for its restricted membership.[20] Besides, with the enforcement of the law of procedure for criminal cases, it had become obligatory to institutionalize prosecution. Given the special confessionalist sensitivities and traditions in Mount Lebanon, there would have had to be at least six prosecutors, one from each major sect. Mount Lebanon's acute budgetary problems ruled out the formation of such a committee of prosecutors. As a solution, the members of the Central Court were charged with conducting the prosecution in criminal cases, in addition to their other duties. This solution was inadmissible to the High


Court of Appeal, which annulled the decrees of the Central Court on the grounds that the prosecutors and the judges were the same people. Briefly, special permission was acquired from the State Council through the intermediacy of the Porte to make the High Court of Appeal take the special circumstances in Mount Lebanon into consideration.[21]

By 1887, however, the growing inefficiency of the Central Court convinced Vasa and the Porte to restore Rüstem's modifications with certain refinements. The Central Court was once more divided into two branches, called the civil and criminal appellate (istinâf ) courts. Each branch consisted of six members and one chairman, along the sectarian lines established by Rüstem. The criminal branch was empowered to hear appeals against the sentences in criminal cases which had been tried in district courts, and to judge cases of felony. The civil branch was to settle the appeals against other sentences of the district courts, and also to function as a committee of prosecution in cases of felony. Within limits defined in the laws of procedure, the High Court of Appeal in Istanbul was recognized as the place of final appeal for all decrees of the Central Court.[22] In this way, the Central Court attained its final form.

It was by the time of Vasa Pasha, then, that the judicial organization of the mutasarrifiyya took its form. In other words, after a period of about 25 years of flux and experimentation, the formation of the courts of different levels, their relationship to one another and to the highest courts of the Ottoman State, and the procedural principles according to which they were to operate were finally settled. The outcome represented a significant deviation from the stipulations of the Règlement . The guarantor powers did not take an open position against this development before 1892. At the conference held in that year, upon Vasa's death, the guarantor powers urged the Porte to "advise" the new governor to revoke the modifications in the judicial system.[23] Naum Pasha, the new governor, was instructed to restore the judicial organization to the form stipulated in the Règlement .[24]

Naum Pasha ignored that instruction and abided by the experience of his predecessors. In defense of his position, Naum pointed to the contentment of the people of the Mountain with the existing judicial system. They only wanted its further improvement and extension, not retraction from it. Naum added that the consuls of guarantor powers in Beirut agreed with him that the present system was undeniably more practical, efficient, and reliable than the system advocated in the Règlement . Legal consultants of the Porte found Naum's position convincing, and they advised the foreign minister to uphold Mount Lebanon's judicial system. In 1897, the ambassadors agreed to Naum's reappointment, implying ap-


proval of his past policies. Nevertheless, in the protocol signed on that occasion and also in the protocol for Muzaffer's appointment in 1902, the guarantor powers reiterated their demand for revocation of the changes introduced by Rüstem and Vasa. At length, the European powers gave up their demand and dropped the issue in the last two conferences held on Mount Lebanon in 1907 and 1912.[25]

The European powers could have resorted to forcible measures in order to see their demand fulfilled, as they did on other occasions. After all, even the State Council admitted that the actual organization of the court system violated the Règlement , which was based on an international agreement that bound the Ottoman government. Yet the powers chose not to press the matter. If they brought it up in the protocols, that was to keep the Ottomans under diplomatic pressure for other considerations.[26] Thus the European powers' avoidance of forcible measures suggests that the judicial organization developed by the governors suited the conditions of Mount Lebanon better than the organization stipulated in the Règlement .

In July 1915, the Ottoman government abolished the international protocols concerning Mount Lebanon and took steps to incorporate its court system more effectively into the Ottoman judicial organization. These attempts initiated a process aiming at the replacement of village sheikhs, in their capacity as justices of the peace, with properly trained judges, a process that continued into the French mandate period and culminated in the formation of the so-called single-judge courts of the Republic of Lebanon. During the war years, an effort was made also to streamline the functions of prosecution and interrogation in accordance with the criminal and civil procedural laws. Otherwise, the Lebanese judicial system remained basically intact until 1934, and constituted the basis of judicial reforms introduced by the French at that date. This endurance of the mutasarrifiyya's court system vindicates Vasa's judgment that in this case praxis and experience were better guides than the provisions of the Règlement .[27]

Supervision of the Judiciary

As already mentioned, the judicial system of Mount Lebanon had taken its shape by the time of Vasa, but the quality of judicial services still needed improvement. Confusion in laws continued to hinder the judicial process until the Ottoman judicial system, which was itself in flux, became more stable around the turn of the century. Also, the difficulty in finding competent jurists adversely affected the performance of the courts. The gradual improvement of educational opportunities helped deal with


the latter problem.[28] Meanwhile, the definition of the relationship between the judges and the governor loomed as the major issue concerning judicial affairs.

After the amendments of 1864, the governor was empowered to appoint the judges directly, except for justices of the peace. He also had the power to dismiss them, this time including justices of the peace, although only after an investigation verified that a judge had acted incompatibly with his official duties or that he was guilty of corruption (1864: art. 11; compare 1861: art. 12). No hint was given, however, as to who was authorized to conduct an investigation or which procedures were to be followed.

This ambiguity began to create problems at the time of Rüstem Pasha. Rüstem's predecessors were above all preoccupied in securing the acceptability of the new regime to the Lebanese. They were cautious in their relations with the local interest groups, the most influential of which was the Maronite Church. One apparent concession that Davud Pasha made to the Maronite Church was to appoint most of the judges and other judicial officials from among the Maronite clergy, and to refrain from intervening in their business. Franko Pasha kept up the practice, and left the judicial officials appointed by Davud in their places. Theirs was a reasonable position to take from a technical point of view as well, given the continued importance of canonical law and the dearth of secularly trained judges in the Ottoman Empire in general, let alone in Mount Lebanon.[29]

By the time of Rüstem Pasha, the new administration in Mount Lebanon had become quite well established. Meanwhile, the Ottoman efforts to establish a secular judicial system had begun to bear fruit and had become more determined.[30] Rüstem refrained from executing the decrees of the judges suspected of sectarian prejudice.[31] He also began to remove the clerics from the district courts.[32] His action led to incessant complaints which obliged the Porte to open a secret investigation of the governor through Hamdi Pasha, a former grand vizier who was then the governor of Damascus. According to Hamdi Pasha, Rüstem's attitude was motivated by "the important objective of preventing the protection and patronage of the accused on the basis of personal relationships." In Hamdi's view, the judges of Mount Lebanon were "marked by strong sectarian zeal. Numerous incidents substantiated and confirmed that the judges and clerics who were of the same sect as the accused exerted their utmost effort and influence for his acquittal and release." Hamdi also explained in detail how the campaign against Rüstem was initiated and conducted by the Maronite Church because of his long-due attempt to put judicial affairs aright.[33]

When Vasa took over the governorship in 1883, only the judge of the


Kisrawan court was a cleric. Soon Vasa contentedly reported to the Porte that he had replaced the last cleric in a judicial position with "a lay person whose ability and knowledge in legal affairs were verified by examination."[34] Complaints against Vasa's own political machinations, however, indicate that professional merit was not the sole criterion in the appointments he made. Evidently Vasa exerted pressure on the judges through his power to appoint and dismiss them, and he used his authority to influence the election of the village sheikhs as well. In response to the inquiries of the Porte, Vasa accused the Maronite bishops of having prepared petitions with false signatures against him because of his secularist policies and determination to weaken the influence exerted by the French diplomats over the Maronite community through the clerics. Nevertheless, the Porte rebuked Vasa for his cunning tactics.[35]

Clear evidence that administrative manipulation of the judges had become an acute problem in Mount Lebanon during Vasa's governorship is a petition signed by 1,200 Lebanese of varying denominations and presented to the Porte in 1892. This was the petition initiated by Yusuf Dibs, as discussed earlier. Vasa had just died, and an ambassadorial conference was called to discuss the candidates for the governorship and to review the situation in the Mountain. The petition was drafted to influence this conference. Its focal point was the "incompatibility of the degree of freedom enjoyed by the Mountain's governor in the appointment and dismissal of the judges and officials with any legislation or regulation that was in force in any part of the Ottoman Empire." Despite the stipulations of the Règlement , the governor could remove judges without due inquiry. The petitioners realized the vagueness of the Règlement about the process of inquiry. Consequently, they expressed their desire for observance of the laws and regulations that were in force elsewhere in the Empire.[36]

Actually, those laws and regulations empowered the High Court of Appeal in Istanbul to try and to punish a judge.[37] When the complaints resulting from Vasa's arbitrary actions against the judges were discussed in the conference, a different solution from that suggested by the petitioners was adopted. The protocol of 1892 urged the Porte "to insure respect for the guarantees allowed the judiciary . . . whose dismissal and displacement could only be undertaken after investigation carried out by the Administrative Council."[38] The official instructions issued to the incoming governor Naum Pasha emphasized the need to put Mount Lebanon's judicial affairs in order, but left fulfillment of this task to his discretion.[39]

Soon after Naum reached Lebanon, he summarily dismissed the judges of the court of Shuf, whom he deemed to have been too lenient to the accused in a case that involved a clash between Christians and Druze.[40] He


undertook similar action with a number of other judges as well, including, at one point, the members of the civil branch of the Central Court. In 1897, his authoritarian attitude toward the judges prompted actions by the ambassadors of the guarantor powers in Istanbul. An inquiry was lodged with the Porte about the proper implementation of the 1892 protocol whereby the governor could dismiss the judiciary only after an investigation carried out by the Administrative Council. In defense of his position, Naum argued that since the protocol did not specify the precise form of investigation, he assigned the duty to the best-qualified members of the Administrative Council, using his own discretion, in conformity to the Règlement which defined the appointment of administrative and judicial officials as a prerogative of the governor. Naum also claimed that the Règlement had precedence over the protocols. The Porte as well as the ambassadors in Istanbul overlooked the flimsiness of Naum's argument, for reasons discussed earlier, but not his opponents in Mount Lebanon. They criticized the governor's authoritarian attitude toward the judges and demanded rectification of this situation in the massive campaign initiated to prevent the extension of Naum's term for a second time in 1902. Partly as a consequence of this campaign, the ambassadors insisted on the necessity of a proper inquiry by the Administrative Council in the dismissal of judges in the protocol of 1902, proposing Muzaffer's appointment to the governorship of the Mountain.[41]

This time the Porte chose to observe the protocols, as the correspondence with Muzaffer Pasha indicates. Soon after reaching his post, Muzaffer appointed inspectors to review the conduct of the judiciary. Their report indicated that some of the judges were corrupt and that criminal trials often were delayed for months, with the accused being held in jail.[42] Muzaffer reported the result of the inspections to the Porte, and asked permission to form a special temporary tribunal for the trial of the responsible officials. The Porte reminded Muzaffer that the Règlement and the protocols rendered such action impermissible, and that only the Administrative Council was authorized to sit in judgment upon the misdeeds of the judiciary.[43] Muzaffer Pasha duly passed the inspection file over to the Administrative Council. He managed to secure the Council's approval for the dismissal of several judges.[44]

Complaints about the courts continued. In 1905, Muzaffer once more dispatched inspectors to the districts. He presented their findings to the Administrative Council, seeking the approval of its members to replace certain judges who evoked particularly bitter complaints. This time the Council refused to cooperate, according to Muzaffer, because of "the relationship and affinity" between the accused judges and some of the coun-


cillors. Muzaffer held that the uncooperative attitude of the Council prevented him from fulfilling his principal duty, which was to maintain an effective judicial administration in Mount Lebanon. He applied to the Porte for advice. The issue was first examined in the State Council and then in the Cabinet. Muzaffer's final instruction on this matter was to adhere to the stipulations of the protocols.[45]

Muzaffer's successor, Yusuf Franko (1907–1912), was an authoritarian and strong-minded governor. Complaints presented to the Porte indicate that he did not refrain from intervening in the judicial process when he saw fit. Despite the warnings of the Porte, Yusuf Franko kept bypassing the Administrative Council in his corrective actions against the judiciary. He tried to justify his position in terms of the unreliability of the members of the Administrative Council. Upon the accumulation of complaints against the governor, the Porte once more had the issue examined in the State Council. In addition to its earlier view that the Règlement and the protocols bound the Ottoman government, the State Council also pointed to the strict measures taken everywhere in the Empire to prevent the intervention of administrative officials in the judicial process, except for the execution of judicial decisions. The Cabinet ratified the opinion of the State Council, and Yusuf Franko was sternly warned to act accordingly.[46] The European powers must have been satisfied with the Porte's stance, for no concern was expressed about the guarantees of the judiciary in the last conference held on the Mountain in 1912.

Toward the end of the mutasarrifiyya era, then, the principle of the independence of judges from administrative control became reasonably well established in Mount Lebanon. If the governors had not been earnest about observing such a fundamental principle of the rule of law, it was only partly due to the authoritarian traditions of Ottoman statecraft. Aside from the difficulty of finding competent jurists, the governors felt themselves obliged to deal with the sectarian and self-serving abuses of the judges, which ranged from leniency in the administration of laws to outright corruption. There is sufficient evidence in the communications between Istanbul and Mount Lebanon to conclude that the governors were rightly concerned over the damage inflicted on the credibility of the courts by the misconduct of certain judges. As the Ottomans saw a direct relationship between equitable dispensation of justice and the respectability of their sovereignty over the Mountain,[47] the governors felt justified in exerting control over the judges. The absence of a clearly defined mechanism of supervision over the performance of the judiciary in the Règlement facilitated the domination of the judges by the governors.


When that domination exceeded tolerable bounds—that is, when it led to serious public dissatisfaction in a way that undermined Ottoman prestige—the Porte checked the governors. Moreover, after a series of legislation dating from 1876 to 1880, the Ottoman judicial system itself prohibited the intervention of the governors in the judicial process through the appointment and dismissal of judges or other means. Only the highest judicial tribunal of the state was authorized to try and to punish judges. However, this legislation did not apply to the judiciary of Mount Lebanon where, instead, the Administrative Council was empowered to conduct inquiries into the competence of judges. As the Administrative Council was an elected and representative body which tended to develop into an embryonic legislature, the Ottomans were understandably reluctant to increase its powers at the expense of the governor, who embodied Ottoman sovereignty in Mount Lebanon. Ultimately, the overriding concern for peace and order in the area, perhaps coupled with a deeper appreciation of the virtues of the separation of judicial and executive powers, convinced the Porte to urge the governors to observe the prevailing stipulations.

In its final form, the judicial system of the mutasarrifiyya represented a unique reconciliation of the principles of sectarian representation and the requisites of a modern, secular judicature. At the lowest level, the election of the justice of the peace by the village community as a whole obliged him to win the trust of all groups. In the district courts, as well as in the Central Court, the judges of different sects had to accommodate their opinions to reach a verdict. Given the depth of mutual sectarian suspicions, which were at times exacerbated from outside by adverse diplomatic vicissitudes, the need to reconcile opinions probably slowed down the wheels of justice, but it also enabled each court to function as a forum to resolve sectarian differences. From the beginning, the Ottomans had deliberately aimed at a rapprochement among the Lebanese. Under the prevailing circumstances, the court system that emerged in the Mountain was a definite contribution toward the realization of that objective.

For effective operation of the court system, however, impartial judges were required. Honest, respectable, and properly educated people who could not be swayed and tempted by sectarian prejudices and vested interests had to be found from among each community. Divisive tendencies in Lebanese politics (along with other, less important, factors) made this task a formidable one. Taking advantage of the vagueness of the Règlement on the supervision of the judiciary, the governors attempted to keep the judicial process under control, mainly through their power to dismiss the


judges. Eventually, sufficient checks and balances were incorporated into the constitutional structure of the mutasarrifiyya to assure separation of the executive and judiciary authorities. By the time the Ottomans withdrew from Mount Lebanon, they left behind an institutionalized and fairly reliable system of justice which also worked as a mechanism to draw the Lebanese closer together.


Confessionalism, Notables, and Administrative Positions

Another development which helped bring the people of the Mountain together was the formation of a large corps of native people working for the government, since all government personnel, except the governor and the director of finances, were locally recruited.[1] This group steadily expanded along with the governmental apparatus. The establishment of a centralized government was itself a significant achievement, given the difficulty of the terrain alone. But thanks to sustained efforts and modern technology, different parts of the Mountain were connected to one another by roads, bridges, and telegraph lines.[2] The improvement of communications enhanced commercial activities and the ecological integration of the Mountain. It also facilitated the establishment of a centralized governmental organization, which gained further momentum once there evolved a large group of people with a vested interest in the system.

In addition to the councillors, the judges, and the security troops, there emerged a corps of administrative officials working in the courts, central offices, districts, and subdistricts. The village sheikhs should also be added to the list, for they were part of the administrative cadre in their capacity as headmen.[3] The problems and trends involved in the rise of this administrative cadre will be discussed in the present chapter, in an effort to review the politics of state-building in Mount Lebanon. In this context, confessionalism, the efforts of the powerful magnates to retain their local autonomy, and the struggle among the social elite over controlling the key administrative positions appear as key issues. These issues will be dealt with in terms of their effects on the unfolding system of government, both as a public platform common to all Lebanese from all social groups and sects and as a centralized organization reaching all parts of Mount Lebanon and representing its unity.


Sectarian Distribution of Administrative Positions

According to article 3 of the 1864 Règlement , Mount Lebanon was divided into seven districts,[4] "each with an administrative head to be appointed by the governor from the dominant sect, either by virtue of numbers or by virtue of territorial possessions." Article 4 added that the districts should be further divided into subdistricts, "each with a director to be appointed by the governor on the recommendation of the district head," but no restrictions were imposed concerning the confessional background of the subdistrict directors. Furthermore, although the 1861 version of the Règlement had stated that the boundaries should be drawn in such a way as to make each subdistrict "sectarianly homogeneous insofar as possible," this stipulation was deleted in 1864. The 1864 Règlement clearly intended to restrict the principle of confessional specification to district headships. The local population, however, wanted a broader application of the principle, and brought pressure to bear upon the earlier governors in that direction, as witnessed by a series of petitions presented to Franko demanding the appointment of all local officials from the dominant sect. Franko reminded the petitioners that the sect requirement applied only to specific positions in the Règlement , but he wrote to the Porte that "in order to strengthen the government and enhance administrative efficacy," it would be advisable to heed the petitioners' "realizable demands," which, he believed, did not contradict the spirit of the Règlement . The Porte allowed Franko to act as he saw appropriate.[5]

Under Franko, the population and land surveys initiated by Davud were completed, and the provincial administrative divisions of the mutasarrifiyya were defined down to the village level. A somewhat controversial aspect of this division was the position of Dair al-Qamar. Although officially a subdistrict within Shuf, this predominantly Maronite town was in practice treated as a district. It had its own first-instance court, and its administrative head was responsible directly to the governor. Unlike the regular districts, however, Dair al-Qamar was not represented in the Administrative Council. While Dair al-Qamar's Maronite leaders considered this situation unfair, some of the Druze leaders argued that Dair al-Qamar was already in a privileged position, and if it were granted the right of representation in the Council then they would demand similar privileges for the large Druze canton in Matn and the Shiite canton in Kisrawan. This controversy delayed the recognition of Dair al-Qamar as the eighth district of Mount Lebanon, with the right to elect a councillor of its own, until 1912.[6]

Otherwise, the administrative divisions designated by the time of


Franko proved basically satisfactory to the general population, and only minor revisions were made in them in later years.[7] With the permission granted him by the Porte, and in keeping with local requests, Franko appointed officials from the dominant sect in each administrative division. The practice was maintained in later years and applied as well to newly created positions in all branches of the government. By the time the regime stabilized, there had emerged pre-set quotas which defined the overall distribution of virtually all positions by different sects, roughly in accord with their respective numbers. Except for the key administrative, judicial, and military (security force) positions, the established pattern could be altered here and there occasionally, especially in the case of positions which required technical competence (such as engineering, medicine, and pharmacology) and language proficiency. But tampering with the overall balance was almost certain to evoke complaints and even unrest, particularly if such an attempt affected the positions reserved for Maronites.[8] Table 3 details the sectarian distribution of government positions early in the twentieth century.

The intensity of the sectarian hostilities and suspicions prevailing in Mount Lebanon in the 1860s was no doubt a major force behind the rise of confessionalism as a fundamental principle of governmental organization under the mutasarrifiyya regime, over and beyond the stipulations of its organic statute. But a closer look at the evidence suggests that sectarian differences were in fact subsumed within a complex struggle among the social elite over position and power. At the beginning, the principal actors in this encounter were the powerful notables and the Maronite clergy. Eventually a new elite, which in general came from lesser notable families representing Mount Lebanon's middle classes, joined the contest. This struggle, rather than confessionalism as such, defined the human content of the secular government that emerged in Mount Lebanon.

Powerful Notables as Officials

The 1861 as well as the 1864 version of the Règlement required "the abolition of all the privileges hitherto enjoyed by notables, and especially by the muqâta'ajis [among them], and the equitable treatment of all before the law" (1861: art. 6; 1864: art. 5).[9] When Davud Pasha took charge of the Mountain to implement the Règlement , however, he assigned the district headships, without hesitation, to "suitable people from the leading notable families [hânedân ve ümerâ ]." Grand Vizier Âli Pasha commended him for this decision.[10]

Simultaneously, with the support of the Maronite clergy and monks, Davud undertook to reinstate the Maronite notables whom the peasants


Table 3.    Distribution of Government Positions by Sect, 1902–1907


Civilian Positionsa


Military Positions



the center

In the provinces


Officers b

commissioned officers and troops


Total number of  positions



Total salary paidc


























Greek Orthodox












Greek Catholic




























































(Table continued on next page)


(Table continued from previous page)


Percentage Share of Fixed Taxes


Population Percentages



Property tax

Total fixed tax



















Greek Orthodox







Greek Catholic



































Sources: Based on statistics prepared during Muzaffer Pasha's governorship, quoted in 'Abdallah al-Mallah, Mutasarrifiyya Jabal Lubnân fi'ahd Muzaffar Bâsha, 1902–1907 (Beirut, 1985), 256, and Tables 1 and 2 above (pp. 105–6).

a Includes judges, excludes village sheikhs and municipality officials.

b Includes physicians and pharmacists.

c In Ottoman liras (OL); at the time, one OL (100 piasters) was about 5 French francs or 4.40 U.S. dollars.


had driven away from the Mountain in 1858.[11] Franko continued his predecessor's efforts. They both paid special attention to the "plight" of the Khazins, the most powerful Maronite notable family in the previous periods. Istanbul supported the governors' efforts, due to the sultan's "benevolence," say the documents. "Disturbed" by the news of the Khazins "wandering about in Beirut and here and there in great hardship and misery," the sultan wished "their rescue from the distressful conditions which separation from homeland imposed on them." But the sultan wished the problem to be settled "justly."[12] The main problem was the land disputes that pitted the ejected landlords against the peasants and monasteries. As another document on the Khazins makes clear, the justice sought by the Ottoman government was peaceful settlement of the land disputes through negotiations and fair trials and "in a way which would ensure harmonious relations among fellow countrymen." In order to facilitate a negotiated settlement, the central government was willing to write off the peasants' tax arrears.[13]

Clearly, the governors (and the central government) were concerned over healing the differences within the Maronite community, but equally clearly because they needed the Maronite notables to make the new order work, rather than for humanitarian reasons as such. Only the notables and the clergy included among their ranks the literate people who could serve as government employees with some experience and respectability. The leaders of the Maronite Church were suspicious of the new order, lest it undermine their hard-earned influence over the Mountain's affairs. Under the capable—if aggressive—leadership of Patriarch Bulus Mas'ad, the Church had emerged from the peasant revolts and the sectarian clashes of the past decades as a powerful organization. It had enhanced its land possessions and its hold on the peasants at the expense of the powerful notables, Druze and Maronite alike. In 1860, the Church leaders had hoped for a political arrangement which would enable them to control the Mountain, with due backing from France. As the new regime fell short of their expectations, they were reluctant to lend support and at times were eager to undermine it.[14]

This situation brought both Davud and Franko up against the challenge of breaking the Church's opposition and winning its endorsement without letting it dominate the regime. The Maronite notables of high status were willing to help, and the governors cooperated with them to effect a new social balance within the Maronite community. Although some of the land disputes lingered on,[15] the ejected notables returned home and regained a portion of the lands formerly under their control. Meanwhile,


the notables in general became a solid element in the administrative system. The full scope of the new balance between the Church, the notables, and the peasants is difficult to tell from the Ottoman sources, though it is clear that the Church was hardly a loser,[16] for it was in a position to extract concessions from all the parties involved, including the governors.

Davud Pasha, for one, realized the complications created by the patriarch's opposition to the regime and courted the Church's support, though he would have liked to do without it. He found in Tubiya 'Aun of Beirut and Butrus Bustani of Dair al-Qamar influential bishops with whom he could work. Under their influence, or as a consequence of his negotiations with them, he appointed people supported by the Church to several sub-district headships and to five of the eight district judgeships. Franko Pasha, who had close personal relations with the patriarch, kept his predecessor's appointees in place and was even more careful to keep the Church happy with the regime. At a time when land disputes, cadastral surveys, and fixing the tax burden preoccupied the government, having its own men in important positions was no mean advantage (and achievement) for the Church.[17] One can add to the list of concessions made to the Church the pressure under which the first two governors kept the Druze notables and community.

Harsh punishments of exile, imprisonments, and indemnity inflicted upon the Druze leaders who had played a part in the events of 1860 had driven the Druze community into disarray. The first two governors showed no interest in alleviating the conditions of the Druze notables, in contrast to the "benevolence" shown the Maronite magnates. During Davud's governorship, the Junblats, hitherto the leading Druze family, lost much of their lands, and the dispersal of the family's core estate in Mukhtara was barely avoided by British intervention.[18] Amir Muhammad Arslan, a prestigious Druze notable known for his moderation, was in a position to keep the Druze together, but Davud deemed his removal from the Mountain necessary and convinced the Porte to appoint him to a position in Istanbul.[19]

Davud still had to rely on a notable to set up a district headship in the predominantly Druze Shuf. His choice fell on Amir Malham Arslan, who was apparently the most malleable Druze notable the pasha could find. Amir Malham stayed in his position for more than a decade, but not without cost. "In order to put an end to the vicious pressures exerted on him by the Maronite bishop of Beirut, Tubiya 'Aun," who cooperated with Davud, "Amir Malham had to donate a huge estate to 'Aun['s Church]."[20] Many other Druze landowners in Shuf sold their lands mostly to Maro-


nites, out of desperation rather than willingly.[21] The Druze notables did not fare better under Franko. A group of them, who had taken refuge in the rough hills of Hauran in inland Syria after the civil war in order to avoid possible punishment, pleaded to return home. Franko's opposition blocked their way. An exception was made for Mustafa Arslan, who lived in exile in Damascus, due to his powerful connections in Istanbul and the intervention of the governor of Damascus on his behalf. Franko yielded in this case, on condition that Mustafa be kept under constant surveillance.[22]

The Ottomans evidently deemed that alleviation of Maronite fears of the Druze was necessary for the initial success of the new regime. By the early 1870s, however, the Druze were clearly growing restive over their treatment. Their territorial possessions and numbers had dwindled since 1860, but they still constituted a fundamental component of the Mountain's population. Their well-proven capacity to mobilize themselves into a disciplined (and fierce) fighting force at times of crisis, and their entrenched position in the strategic Shuf region overlooking the Damascus-Beirut road, were good enough reasons to take their grievances seriously.[23]

Rüstem Pasha (1873–1883) turned his attention to the matter. He appointed Amir Mustafa Arslan to the district headship (now called district governorship) of Shuf in place of Malham. Along with his good connections in Istanbul, Mustafa had a powerful personality and a fairly good understanding of local and international politics. He managed to make the weight of the Druze felt in the Mountain once again. In doing so, however, he acted very much like the patriarchal–feudalistic muqâta'ajis of the past, as if Shuf were his personal domain. He was generous to his supporters and grudging against his real or potential opponents. He was particularly suspicious of the Junblats, the longtime rivals of the Arslans in the leadership of the Mount Lebanon Druze.[24]

In fact, many of the other powerful notables who occupied the district and subdistrict governorships appear to have been behaving in a similar manner, reminiscent of the muqâta'ajis . True, the lands under their jurisdiction were no longer a lifetime tax farm, and they no longer kept private forces, nor did they have judicial authority. They had to function within a centralized system, and their lands were confined to specific estates depicted and registered as real property as an outcome of the land-dispute settlements mentioned above. Nevertheless, traces of the old ways were visible in their behavior. Out of habit, they treated the security troops stationed in their jurisdiction as their personal orderlies, thereby undermining the autonomy and public respectability of the public security force that was being built up. The commission (mahsûl fee) they were allowed to collect on certain pecuniary settlements was a residue (and a reminder)


of the muqâta'ajis' judicial rights. Most important, they often served in areas where their families had been traditionally influential and had landed and other interests. They were in a position to use their authority to perpetuate their vested local interests, and they had a tendency to think that they had a right to do so by virtue of their lofty notable background. In a similar vein, some incumbents of the central offices and the judgeships also seem to have come to view their positions as a prerogative of their families, or of the Church.[25]

Rüstem Pasha, as modern a bureaucrat as the Ottoman system could produce at the time, took pains to enhance the quality of the government as well as its autonomy from vested interests. Toward this end, he forced government employees to act by set regulations, and he replaced officials and judges who failed to do so, or if he believed someone else could do the job better.[26] His drive, however, seems to have deliberately excluded Shuf, and to have had limited success elsewhere. His articulate successor, Vasa Pasha (1883–1892), describes the situation he found in Mount Lebanon as follows:

While all the privileges once enjoyed by the muqâta'ajis have become null and void in accordance with the organic statute of Mount Lebanon, my predecessors paid little attention to this subtle point and some of the offices became confined to certain families considered muqâta'aji . When a vacancy occurred in one of these positions, a person from the same family was appointed to it. Consequently, the incumbent came to nourish the baseless opinion that his office is a personal domain (mâlikâne ) of sorts and could not be occupied by anyone else, and certainly not by someone outside his family. Vicious delusions that result from this situation are harmful to the sacred rights of the Sublime Sultanate and entail difficulties and troubles concerning the proper administration [of the Mountain].[27]

[For instance,] employing an Arslan in the Shuf district governorship, an Abi-l-Lama' in the Matn district governorship, and a Maronite priest in the district-court judgeship of Kisrawan has become the common practice. Confining the offices to specific families and a specific clerical group creates the baseless impression that the proper conduct of the government's business is possible only through their influence. Such foul delusions cannot be reconciled in any way whatsoever with the reputation of the government and must, therefore, be brought to an end. . . . It must be shown that no family and group can have privileges and a higher social standing than others, and that employment in the service of the government depends on and only on devotion, integrity, merit, and competence. . . . Careful observation of article 5 of the organic statute is necessary so that all


people may benefit equally from the opportunities of prosperity and advancement [generated] in the country.[28]

Despite his speech, Vasa was not particularly fond of the Mountain's common folk. On one occasion, he did not mind telling the Porte that he refused to listen to a group of "simple-minded farmers and workers" who had come to his house to make complaints about the elections in Batrun.[29] Other evidence indicates that Vasa used his influence in favor of certain notables in their land disputes with peasants.[30] Moreover, he himself was writing to Istanbul that in his tours of the Mountain he made a special effort to establish good contacts with people of distinguished families (ümerâ, a'yân ve vücûh-i memleket ) in each place he visited.[31] Istanbul would not expect him to behave differently. The reigning sultan, Abdulhamid II (1876–1909), advocated the cultivation of good relations with provincial magnates, particularly in areas where the central government's authority was relatively weak. He believed that the support of powerful notables was a key to internal political stability, which the Ottoman government needed to recover from its weaknesses.[32] Besides, the general impression in Istanbul was that the people of Mount Lebanon were very mindful of one another's lineage and would be hard put to accept the authority of a local administrator without ancestral distinction.[33] Vasa's own appointments, combined with his other behavior, make clear that he shared this opinion. Thus when he decided to show Mustafa that the district governorship of Shuf was neither a "domain" nor a prerogative of the Arslans, he turned to the Junblats for an alternative, and he replaced an Abi-l-Lama' with a Shihab in Matn.[34]

Nevertheless, during Vasa's tenure, the senior officials found themselves being moved about the Mountain. They were also replaced and reappointed according to their willingness to cooperate with the governor and their abilities to contribute to the interests of the mutasarrifiyya at large, as formulated by the governor through his negotiations with people of influence in the Mountain. Vasa also, as has been discussed in earlier chapters, groomed a group of young officials who were mostly of lesser notable families and owed their rise in society to the mutasarrifiyya regime. It became clear that the system had acquired a force of its own which could be harnessed to alter the power configurations existing in the area. The attractions and social prestige of public service increased along with the growing power and importance of the government. As the institutions of the mutasarrifiyya reached their final form in the 1880s, however, there began to emerge a discrepancy between the more or less fixed number of available positions and the ever-increasing demand for them.


The Struggle for Offices

This development intensified the struggle over controlling the available positions in a way which further politicized the administration and hampered the formation of standards for bureaucratic conduct. According to the letter and the spirit of the Règlement , the governor would have the final say in the appointment, promotion, and dismissal of officials, and the Administrative Council would assist and check him in its capacity as the institutional representative of Mount Lebanon's political interests. Appeal against the governor was to the Porte, and against the Porte to the guarantor powers. In other words, responsibility for the proper performance of the administration belonged to the governors and the councillors. The logic of the Règlement , however, prevailed only slowly and imperfectly over the political conditions onto which it was grafted.

Mount Lebanon was a small country dominated by personal patronage relations and without a tradition of "statehood" to speak of.[35] The distribution of services of a public nature by political bosses to their dependent clients had been the norm in the not-so-distant past. The powerful notables—the Junblats, Arslans, Khazins, Shihabs, and Abi-l-Lama's, who manned the key government offices—were and remained political bosses. They viewed their office as a symbol of social prestige and as a means of upholding their social power. Even some of the younger officials who were of relatively humble background, and hence more dependent on the mutasarrifiyya regime, used their positions to build themselves into powerful political bosses. The 'Ammuns, Habib Sa'ad, and the 'Aqls are cases in point. With such political bosses in charge of the key government offices, and vying to supplant one another, public service evolved as a highly politicized pursuit in Mount Lebanon. The senior and the not-so-senior administrative positions reserved for the Maronite and Druze communities were especially politicized.[36]

The involvement of the Maronite Church, the French Consulate, and at times the consulates of other European powers, as well as the various political circles in Istanbul, and even governors of the neighboring provinces, in the struggle over control of the administrative positions, was also a cause, as much as a consequence, of the politicization of public services. As the competition intensified from about the 1880s onward, rival officials turned to rival interest groups for support and patronage. The officials aligned into conflicting cliques, following the power configurations prevailing at any given time, and became a party to the internal and international political struggles waged in and over Mount Lebanon. In the process, the distinction between the realm of public administration and the


realm of politics further blurred. The cliques of officials played an active role in the election of councillors and in the campaigns launched to influence the selection of governors. The councillors and governors were inevitably drawn into the cliques, and their judgment of an individual public employee was often determined not so much by his bureaucratic merits as by his place and worth in the ongoing political struggles. In a vicious circle, the difficulties encountered in setting up standard criteria for the judgment of officials enhanced the politicization of the officials as well as the vulnerability of the system to manipulations from within and without, and vice versa.[37]

Given the weakness of the standards of conduct, corruption seems to have increased as well. Contemporary journalistic accounts and the petitions submitted to the Porte and the consulates abound in accusations of corruption and misconduct. This evidence leaves one with the impression that the officials were abusing their public authority not only to gain political leverage over their rivals but also for self-enrichment, with unbounded avarice. But the evidence on corruption clearly exaggerates the real situation. The contemporary journalistic literature about the leading officials and politicians exhibits such a highly developed taste for satirical poetry and polemical prose that Vasa Pasha's observation about political gossip being a favorite pastime for the Mountain's elite acquires credibility.[38] Besides, accusations of corruption, whether in contemporary journals or petitions, came from rival bureaucrats and political factions, leaving hardly anyone unmarred. Almost identical charges were made about different individuals at different times. These formulaic accusations may reflect the prospects of corruption and avenues of patronage available to officials, but they do not necessarily implicate the accused. Finally, the accusations visibly intensified at critical junctures, when the normal functioning of the government was disrupted due to the approaching end of the governor's tenure and because Ottoman–French relations grew unusually tense. Laid-off officials, or those who desired better positions, considered such times particularly opportune to attack their rivals. Their accusations, like all charges of corruption, must be taken with a grain of salt. In fact, what is remarkable in the corruption literature is the liberal engagement of people of public position and influence in sweeping accusations against one another. This behavior displays a conspicuous cynicism about public authority that cannot but have undermined respect for the government.

For all its adverse effects on the quality of public services (as measured by modern standards) and the image of public authority, the struggle over


government positions was instrumental in establishment of the regime and in the formation of a common, and democratically oriented, political consciousness in Mount Lebanon. The struggle, after all, marked the desire of the social elite to participate in a centralized government system. Their participation helped sensitize the regime to local needs and traditions, and also provided it with legitimacy. Furthermore, the politics of position-hunting enhanced intersectarian dialogue and rapprochement. The cliques and networks which formed among the incumbents, on the one hand, and the contesters, on the other, were essentially intersectarian, for the simple reason that each position was allotted to a specific sect by common consent, as discussed earlier. Rival officials from the same sect, sometimes even the same family, made common cause with their counterparts from different sects in an effort to generate sufficient support in their favor from as many sources as possible. The networks thus formed were usually driven by self-interest and fluid, ever-shifting, amalgamating and bifurcating in keeping with political vicissitudes and individual shrewdness, but they were invariably intersectarian.[39] Besides, they were not altogether amorphous.

In time, there emerged a pattern to the alliances and even a programmatic-ideological dimension in the activities of some of the groups involved in the struggle for positions. The pattern was dictated by the logic of the Règlement . As a core group of powerful notables who enjoyed external support proved consistently more successful in influencing the governors in their quest for key administrative positions, another core group of ambitious officials came to see their interest in enhancing the control of the Administrative Council over the governor's decisions concerning these positions. The notion of an authoritarian governor vulnerable to pressure from established centers of power was pitted against the notion of an elected body representing the collective interests of "the people." A few reminders, in reference to the developments discussed in earlier chapters, should suffice to illustrate the points made above.

The polarization of officials into the "pro-Kusa" and "anti-Kusa" alliances by the end of Naum's ten-year governorship (1892–1902) was already indicative of the pattern mentioned above. The pro-Kusa faction, which lobbied for Naum's reappointment or his replacement by one of his cousins from the Kusa family, was led by Rashid Khazin, Mustafa Arslan, and Iskandar Tuaini.[40] Their combined contacts enabled them to enjoy the support of several consulates, the Maronite Church, and a number of influential Ottoman statesmen. The anti-Kusa alliance was spearheaded by the younger generation of officials once backed by Vasa, the Junblats, and


a branch of the Shihabs. The latter group carried the day in 1902, clearly more for their ability to generate a movement against the Kusas at home than for their contacts abroad.[41]

The new governor, Muzaffer Pasha (1902–1907), cooperated with the group that was instrumental in his quite unexpected rise to governorship, but only to a certain extent. Both the Khazins and the Arslans kept the governor under tremendous pressure—though the Greek Orthodox Tuaini quietly withdrew from the scene. The pressure represented interests far larger than those of two powerful families. It was a reaction to the policies advocated by the anti-Kusa faction, which bluntly challenged the external capitulatory restrictions imposed on Mount Lebanon's economy as well as the influence of powerful landed interests, including the Maronite Church. The struggle over controlling the administrative positions began to acquire ideological overtones, as witnessed by the new names attributed to the anti-Kusa group. They were "freemasons" to their opponents, and "liberals" in the eyes of their sympathizers.[42] By implication, their opponents were "conservative." The liberal group had a visibly expanding power base within Mount Lebanon. Unable to match the external contacts, and credit, of the "conservatives," however, the liberal group began to lose control of the key administrative offices even under Muzaffer, and suffered a heavy blow with the appointment of Yusuf Kusa (1907–1912) in his place.

The ideological dimensions of the struggle and its linkage to the efforts directed toward strengthening the Administrative Council vis-à-vis the governor became more vivid than ever under Yusuf. Yusuf enjoyed the support of the consulates and was able to impose standards of bureaucratic efficiency in government offices. The authoritarian nature of his governorship, however, invited widespread reaction amid the liberal political atmosphere that the 1908 Revolution generated in the Empire. Even relatively conservative circles admitted to the need of deepning their political bases within Mount Lebanon, and acknowledged that controlling the key administrative positions through influencing the governor would no longer suffice to defend their interests. Just as France, and to some extent the Maronite Church, became more attentive to liberal tendencies among the Maronites, the Arslans made peace with the Junblats.[43] The liberal group, in turn, felt obliged to moderate its political tactics to retain its following.

By 1912–13, a new social balance appeared to be forming in the Mountain, with a corresponding readjustment in the relations between the government and the Council. The 1912 protocol solidly acknowledged the Council as the institutional representative of Mount Lebanon's interests,


and the councillor elections as the proper platform of political contest. The new governor realized the de jure and the de facto limitations of his authority, and cooperated closely with the councillors. This new situation might perhaps have helped distance the administration from politics and improved the standards of bureaucratic conduct, but the course of events changed with the eruption of the First World War.

As things stood on the verge of the war, a sizable cadre of officials with respectable experience in running a centralized governmental apparatus had formed in Mount Lebanon. Petty politicking, clientage-building, and patron-seeking were still features of the system in which officials functioned. But the system worked for the Lebanese, for it was indeed of their own making. It was structured and operated predictably. It had also acquired characteristics that were more conducive to a democratic-participative political environment than a bureaucratic-authoritarian one.[44]

The notables, as always, continued to play a dominant role in politics as well as the administration. The local autonomy of the powerful magnates, however, had been clearly restricted. They had been reduced to actors operating in a larger and unified system. Furthermore, the social distinction which once separated the magnates from lesser notables appeared quite anachronistic. In government service, at least, the organizational hierarchy of the system, headed by the governor and the Council, prevailed over the traditional hierarchy of the notable families, as witnessed by the rise of many relatively humble individuals to prominence in the society, thanks to the opportunities provided by the regime. The success of the relatively humble officials-turned-political bosses against the powerful notables-turned-officials in rising to top positions had, in a sense and to a degree, democratized the elite. In the process, people who did not come from notable families of any status had also found their way into the system,[45] and into the ranks of the social elite, if they combined bureaucratic-administrative skills with political acumen.

Confessionalism, as expressed in the parceling of offices among sects, remained a characteristic of the system. Confessionalism had helped make the regime acceptable to different and mutually suspicious groups and had facilitated its penetration into the countryside. Once the government became established and gained a momentum of its own, its confessionalist arrangement helped the sects come closer together. People from different denominations interacted and mixed in business dealings and working in government offices or as participants in political activities revolving around the election of village sheikhs and councillors, as well as the struggle for administrative positions. In this sense, confessionalism oper-


ated as a force which helped generate a public sphere and a basically secular and centralized governmental system. The regime united the Mountain territorially and politically. It was less successful, however, in translating that unity into a secular cultural-political identity common to all involved, mainly because the Maronite Church contested the regime's autonomy from any particular sectarian group. The Church's position rendered the regulation of relations between the temporal and ecclesiastical authorities a particularly thorny problem. This is the issue covered in the next chapter.


The Government and the Church

Relations Between Temporal and Ecclesiastical Authorities, 1861–1915

By long tradition and law, every ecclesiastical organization within the Ottoman Empire enjoyed autonomy in the administration of its affairs and in choosing its dignitaries. Normally, however, promotions to key ecclesiastical positions were registered with the government offices, and a berât (diploma) was obtained from the sultan, the grand vizier, or the relevant governor according to the promoted person's place in the ecclesiastical hierarchy. The berât did not represent an investiture in spiritual authority but a mutual recognition between the state and the churches of their respective spheres of authority. The berât also entitled the holder to government support where the two spheres overlapped, such as the protection of church property, the enforcement of church edicts, and the implementation of the church's juridical decisions in certain civic and personal matters concerning its flock.[1]

Before the mid-nineteenth century, Istanbul had not viewed the Maronite Church as a sufficiently significant organization to warrant direct attention, and the Maronite patriarchs were not required to obtain berâts from the central government. Instead, the Church was left subject to local arrangements. In the seventeenth century, the Church operated under the rather erratic protection of the governors of Tripoli. The dignitaries appeared before the governors immediately after their election to office to acknowledge this relationship. In the eighteenth century, the Maronite Church came under the protection of the Khazins, the muqâta'ajis of Kisrawan, and hence indirectly under the Shihabi amirs, whom the Ottoman government recognized as the paramount chiefs of Mount Lebanon. The Khazins dominated the Church to the extent of influencing the appoint-


ments within it. The Church, in turn, enjoyed a degree of prosperity under the protection of the Khazins and the Shihabi amirs that eventually enabled it to reform itself and greatly increase its endowments. By the early nineteenth century, the Church had become largely free from the aegis of the Khazins, though it still recognized the authority of the amirs.[2]

As a ceremonious acknowledgment of this recognition, the newly-elected patriarchs visited the amir, made presents of coffee and tobacco to him, and in return accepted a robe of honor from his hands. This ceremony was kept up during the dual-districts period as well. Thus when Yusuf Khazin was elected patriarch in 1845, he visited the Christian district governor and engaged in the ceremonial exchange of presents with him.[3] Patriarch Bulus Mas'ad, who replaced Yusuf Khazin in 1854, represented a new generation of Maronite prelates and priests who were determined to shake off the vestiges of feudalistic tutelage and assert the Church's sole leadership over the Maronite community.[4] Nevertheless, Bulus Mas'ad, too, visited the Christian district governor, gave him presents, and accepted a robe of honor from his hands, although the entire ceremony, at the patriarch's insistence, took place with little publicity or pomp.[5] Bulus Mas'ad's early years in the office encompassed momentous events: the revolt of the Maronite peasants against the oppression of the mugâta'ajis in Kisrawan, the civil war of 1860, and the downfall of the dual-districts regime. The Maronite Church emerged from these events as the undisputed leader of the Maronite community and the most powerful organization in the Mountain.[6]

A man of intense religious zeal, the patriarch viewed the Ottoman efforts to establish a new regime in the Mountain with suspicion. He wanted generally to keep the mutasarrifiyya government in check, and particularly to keep it dependent on the Church in predominantly Maronite areas. Davud Pasha's conciliatory policies, the support the European powers gave him, and the willingness of a number of the Maronite prelates to work with the new regime finally convinced Mas'ad to moderate his position.[7] In 1867 he visited Rome, Paris, and Istanbul, mainly to strengthen the Church's influence in the affairs of the Mountain, but also to lobby for the governorship of Franko Kusa, who was a personal friend of his. In Istanbul, he was received by the sultan and decorated with a medal of honor of the first order in return for his expression of loyalty to the Ottoman State. He also made clear his favorable thoughts about Franko.[8]

Relations between the government and the Church improved greatly during Franko's governorship. Franko did not expect the Maronite Church


to abide by the formalities and procedures that applied to the other churches. Thus when Yusuf Dibs, Nimatullah Dahdah, and Yusuf Fraifir were appointed bishops without even a simple notification to the government, Franko saw no reason to refrain from dealing with the new bishops in official matters. Rüstem Pasha, however, interpreted the Church's disregard for the existing procedures as inappropriate and intolerable behavior. He observed that the Maronite patriarch and prelates had judicial authority over their flock as had other religious dignitaries, and that they requested assistance from the government in the implementation of their decrees and for other reasons, such as the collection of the "ecclesiastical tax [tithe], the payment of which hardly enthused their flock." Since 1860, however, the Maronite Church had shunned having its newly appointed dignitaries registered with the government, in a deliberate attempt to assert its independence from the government. According to Rüstem, the Church's attitude led to a situation where junior officials took orders from people who were not officially associated with the government, thereby rendering the Church a source of (temporal) authority outside the regular governmental organization. Rüstem added that this odd duality was incompatible with the orderly conduct of government business, and hence could not be left uncontested.

Rüstem's concern over the issue was evoked by Istafan 'Awad's elevation to the diocese of Tripoli, which included Batrun and Kura. Rüstem informed the Church that he expected a formal application for official recognition of 'Awad's episcopacy. When such an application was not forthcoming, Rüstem ordered the related district governors to refrain from any official transaction or contact with the bishop, and to recognize only the religious aspects of his position. Istanbul approved Rüstem's decision.[9] While we have no information about the outcome of Rüstem's action, it is clear that his relations with the Church worsened, and the general issue of regulating the relations between temporal and ecclesiastical authorities remained unresolved.[10]

Within Vasa's first year in office, in 1883, a newly appointed Maronite bishop, Yusuf Zughbi, paid him a personal visit by way of acquainting the secular authorities with his election. Vasa overlooked the informality of the visit and the absence of a written communication from the Patriarchate, because he was evidently hopeful at this point that he would be able to reach a reasonable compromise with the Church.[11] By 1889, Vasa was convinced that the Maronite prelates' defiance of the existing appointment formalities constituted a serious problem, because they meant it as an act of loyalty to France and an assertion of the Church's supremacy over the


government. In Vasa's view, curbing the Church's arrogance had become a necessity. In this connection, he turned his attention to the five prelates promoted to the rank of bishop in 1889. Since most of these dioceses fell outside his jurisdiction, Vasa asked the Porte to take administrative and diplomatic action to prevent the bishops from performing their duties without obtaining formal permission from the government.[12] In response to Vasa's reaction, the patriarch simply kept the new bishops at his side, as advisors. This he could do without an adverse effect on the Church's affairs, because, except for Aleppo, the Maronite communities living outside Mount Lebanon and Beirut were negligible. The patriarch's response froze the problem until his death in 1890.[13]

There were two strong candidates for the patriarchate. One was Ilias Huwayyik, who enjoyed French backing, though he had only recently been promoted bishop. The other candidate, Yuhanna Hajj, advocated moderation in the Church's relations with the Ottoman government and was backed by the Apostolic legate to the area, Monsignor Piavi. According to Vasa, both candidates were Francophiles, but he believed Huwayyik's unconditional devotion to France made Hajj the more desirable choice. The election in the Church Council went to Yuhanna Hajj. Vasa was jubilant.[14]

The new patriarch immediately communicated his election to Vasa and to the Porte. He expected Vasa and other Ottoman statesmen in Beirut and Istanbul who were sympathetic to him to mediate for his decoration by the sultan, which he would have obtained had it not been for the objection of Vasa, who urged the Porte and the Palace not to rush into such action. Vasa acknowledged Hajj's piety and moderation as a person, but he reminded Istanbul of "the pretensions of [Hajj's] church to a privileged status above the laws of the country." It was true that the Maronite dignitaries, unlike their colleagues from other churches, had never been required to obtain berâts directly from Istanbul in the past. The Maronite Church appealed to this historical precedent, or rather the absence of one, to justify its claim to exemption from the procedures and regulations which applied to other churches. But, Vasa observed, this was a misleading interpretation. In the past, every single Maronite patriarch, including the late Bulus Mas'ad, had pledged his allegiance to the local representative of the sovereign and had gone through the customary ceremonies required by the occasion. Bulus Mas'ad was, in addition, decorated upon his expression of allegiance in person before the sultan. Vasa argued that the decoration and concomitant recognition of the religious title of Yuhanna Hajj now, without his explicit recognition of the laws of the country in turn,


would give legal force to the pretensions of the Maronite Church to a privileged status.[15]

The Porte asked Vasa how Yuhanna Hajj would respond if a berât , similar to those given other senior religious officials, were sent to him along with his decoration. Vasa argued that such a fait accompli would put Hajj in a predicament: If he accepted the berât , this would be interpreted as a breach of his connections with France. Given the Church's material dependence on France and the general commitment of the Maronite religious dignitaries to French interests, Hajj would come under tremendous pressure to reject the berât , and would probably yield to that pressure.[16] Hajj needed the decoration, however, and Vasa's reports explain why. Aside from the social prestige that was obviously attached to such honors, a decoration of the first order customarily given the patriarchs would place Hajj at a very high position in the state protocol, on a par with the highest-ranking governors and above the heads of other churches in Mount Lebanon and Beirut. Even the most ardently Francophile Maronite bishops admitted to the importance of the patriarch's decoration, though they did not want him to compromise on what they saw as their church's independence.[17]

The bishops formed a delegation of four, who visited Vasa to discuss the matter. The delegation conveyed the patriarch's desire for decoration, expressed his loyalty to the Sultanate, and communicated his gratitude for the sultan's kindness and for the good government of Mount Lebanon. Vasa was unmoved. He noticed the informality of the visit, and interpreted it as a "deliberate attempt of the Maronite religious dignitaries to show the public that the patriarch was above the local government and hence free from the obligation to pay a formal visit to the governor."[18] Vasa politely told the delegate that nothing less than a formal application from the patriarch would do. Upon this, a group of the bishops turned to France to obtain the decoration through diplomatic pressure, despite Hajj's own reservations about this course of action. The French diplomats in Beirut and Istanbul, who were already on the alert, became actively involved in the issue, to the extent of promising decoration by the French government of the Ottoman statesmen who helped them in the matter. Pressure was also brought to bear on the Vatican, whose delegate in the area decried the politicization of the Maronite Church.[19] Once again, an internal problem of Mount Lebanon, in this case the ordering of relations between the ecclesiastical and temporal authorities, became internationalized.

Vasa warned the Porte that giving in to French pressure at this point would be extremely unwise, for it would seriously undermine the prestige


of the local government. He suggested that the Porte should require, at the minimum, a formal application from the Patriarchate to the mutasarrifiyya for its mediation in the matter. Hajj agreed. He did not come in person, as Vasa had obviously wished all along, but sent a formal letter pledging his loyalty and gratitude to the Sultanate and asking the governor's mediation for his decoration. Istanbul considered Hajj's letter sufficient to duly honor him with the first-order decoration.[20] Vasa also persuaded the sultan to make a donation to the Church in support of Hajj's efforts to expand the Maronite theological seminary in Rome. The Vatican had made a major contribution toward realization of this project. The remaining funds were expected to be raised locally or provided by France. The French government, however, was unwilling to help, because of its displeasure with Hajj, as well as with the Vatican. Vasa continued to believe that Hajj did not differ much from his colleagues as far as his disposition toward France was concerned. Hajj cooperated with the Apostolic legate, however, "to mitigate the harmful effects of the politicization of the Church." In this context, he had rebuked some of the bishops and had taken issue with the involvement of French diplomats in the Church's internal affairs. Under the influence of Monsignor Piavi, the patriarch had also adopted a favorable disposition toward normalization of the Church's relations with both the local and central governments. These actions, which disturbed the Quai d'Orsay, led Vasa to believe that the Ottoman government should help the patriarch as best it could.

Vasa himself paid close attention to developments within the Church, particularly the struggle over filling the four vacant dioceses of Damascus, Ba'lbak, Latakia, and Cyprus. As in the case of Hajj's election, the Church Council was divided into two camps. Vasa called them "the moderate and the ardent Franchphiles"—though the ultra-montanistic overtones in the former group's position suggest a more subtle difference between them. A meeting was scheduled to decide the appointments in December 1891. The moderates would probably win, but an "intimidating" letter from the French consul conveying the dissatisfaction of his government sufficed to get the meeting postponed.

Vasa cooperated with the Apostolic legate to encourage the patriarch to elevate the "most deserving and capable" prelates to the vacant dioceses, whether the French supported them or not. In an encounter between the French consul and the patriarch in February 1892, Hajj protested the Consulate's "unjustifiable intervention in a purely religious matter, for which he was responsible (before God)." The consul told Hajj that the responsibility belonged to the Church Council, and reminded him of his obligations to France. Vasa did not think Hajj could endure the French pressure


very much longer. Indeed, in June 1892, the candidates backed by the French consul were finally appointed to the vacant dioceses, amid tensions which spilled over to the lay population. A few skirmishes that broke out among the Maronites were rapidly quelled by the security troops. Vasa assured the Porte that he would not allow the peace of the Mountain to be disturbed because of problems of the Church. He also begged the Porte not to allow the new bishops to perform their duties unless the Church showed its respect for the local government unequivocally.[21]

Vasa died the same year, but his request did not. Istanbul dispatched orders to the governors of Damascus and Beirut asking them "not to recognize the Maronite bishops who think they can function as religious heads just of their own accord," and "not to enter into any official relationships whatsoever with them unless they have formally applied to the governor of Mount Lebanon for official recognition of their religious titles."[22] Vasa's successor, Naum Pasha, was also briefed on the issue and instructed to work in cooperation with neighboring governors to prevent the new bishops from exercising their duties and rights until their appointments were officially confirmed.[23] Once again, the bishops preferred to stay at the patriarch's side rather than yield to governmental authority, apparently hoping that, given time, the Porte's orders would fall into oblivion.

About a year later, the patriarch tested the resolve of the Ottoman government. He applied to Naum for a letter recommending the bishop of Damascus to its governor. Naum reminded the patriarch that he would have to apply first for official recognition of the said bishop. Hajj obeyed. Also, Naum agreed with him, pending the Porte's approval, that henceforth the Patriarchate would formally inform the governor of the election of a new bishop, and the governor would issue an official communiqué and send it to other governors if the bishop's diocese was outside Mount Lebanon.

The Porte was not very happy about this understanding reached between the governor and the patriarch, although the agreement was not entirely discordant with the Porte's original instructions. Grand Vizier Ahmed Cevad Pasha remarked that the proposed procedure overlooked the original objective of the Ottoman government, which was to eliminate the differences between the Maronite Church and other churches with respect to the formalities around the promotion and appointment of religious dignitaries. The grand vizier observed that the proposed agreement had the advantage of routinizing the relations between the Maronite Church and the local government, which the governors since Rüstem Pasha had sought to accomplish—but by confining confirmation of a bishop's appointment to the local government, the proposed agreement jeopardized


the interests of the central government. Clearly, the grand vizier thought, the localization of bureaucratic procedure signified the enhancement of Mount Lebanon's political autonomy. He advised Naum to "beware of politically risky measures" and keep the interests of the central government in mind.[24]

The Porte repeated its caution and main objectives concerning the relations with the Maronite religious dignitaries when Patriarch Hajj died and Ilias Huwayyik replaced him in late December 1898. Huwayyik's election had required significant maneuvering on his behalf by the French consul to Beirut and by Monsignor Duval, a Frenchman whom France had finally managed to get appointed as the Apostolic legate to the area. Huwayyik's rival was Yusuf Najm. He was supported by a powerful group of bishops who controlled the Church's rich endowments in Kisrawan, and by the Khazins, who had good connections not only with France but also with Istanbul, thanks to their alliance with the Arslans. Naum Pasha also seems to have backed Najm. Given the combined power of his opposition and the relatively close relations between Paris and Istanbul at the time, Patriarch Huwayyik considered it expedient to be on good terms with the local government. Following the precedent set by his predecessor, he applied through the governor for acknowledgment and recognition by Istanbul. Istanbul recognized the patriarch but, in contrast to the Hajj case, withheld his decoration for the time being, in the hope that Naum might convince him to accept an imperial berât like other senior religious officials, so that the Maronite Church would finally acquire an appropriate "official standing" within the Ottoman system. Naum carefully eschewed any action in that direction. He had established a fairly good working relationship with the Church, and he evidently considered Huwayyik's incorporation into that relationship a sufficient achievement.[25]

The rise of the anti-Kusa (or "liberal") movement, however, altered the balance of power in Mount Lebanon. The Church grew increasingly wary of the "cultural" societies which the liberal-minded Maronite intellectuals and bureaucrats formed under Muzaffer Pasha's patronage. Huwayyik declared these societies "seedbeds of evil," and condemned participation in them as "shirking one's responsibilities toward spiritual as well as temporal authorities." Sympathizers of the liberal group responded by organizing rallies, where they chanted anti-clerical slogans, and by threats to convert to Protestantism.[26] This blunt challenge to the Church's leadership from within the Maronite community impelled Huwayyik to seek the governor's help. Muzaffer was unwilling to oblige beyond taking strict measures against any unruly behavior among the demonstrators.[27] Determined to reassert the Church's leadership, Huwayyik made arrangements


to visit Istanbul, via Rome and Paris. In October 1905, he was granted an audience with Abdulhamid II. He expressed his allegiance to the Sultanate, and was decorated in turn, but received no berât .[28] Huwayyik returned to Mount Lebanon triumphant, with the blessings of the pope and having demonstrated the influence of his Church in Paris as well as Istanbul. He exchanged courtesies with the governor of Beirut, but pointedly ignored Muzaffer.[29] The message was clear: the Maronite Patriarchate was the real master of Mount Lebanon, not its secular government.

The patriarch's decoration, at a time when he was in open conflict with the governor, was a serious blow to what had been achieved so far in forcing the Church to recognize the autonomy of the secular government. Despite Bulus Mas'ad's well-known dislike of him, Davud Pasha had backed his decoration, for the issue at that juncture—for both the local and the central governments—was to win the Patriarchate's support for the mutasarrifiyya . The separation of the realms of ecclesiastical and temporal authorities emerged as an issue under Rüstem, and crystallized around the symbolic dispute over the registration of religious officials with the government. At first, the issue was inseparably intertwined with the Ottoman concern to draw the Maronite Church into the existing orbit of church–state relations in the Empire. As such, the question appeared to be that of applying the related Ottoman practice and procedure in Mount Lebanon. For the central government, Ottoman sovereignty was at stake, while for the Church the autonomy of Mount Lebanon was at issue. Since the Church saw itself as the embodiment and spirit of the Mountain, it resisted the demands to abide by standard procedures in its relations with the government. France backed the Church's position, seeing in it an opportunity to perpetuate French interests.

As the mutasarrifiyya gradually developed into an authentic system of government and was run by the people of the Mountain, the issue grew more complex. While the conflict between the actual Ottoman and potential French suzerainties continued, the Maronite Church and the local government found themselves openly vying for the custodianship of Mount Lebanon. Thus Vasa's negotiations with the Church on the registration of its officials inevitably came to focus on recognition of the governor as the representative of Mount Lebanon as a political entity—as opposed to being the representative of Ottoman sovereignty. Naum adopted the same position, and reached a formal understanding with the Church on the problem of appointments along the lines initiated by Vasa. As Grand Vizier Ahmed Cevad observed, this understanding strengthened Mount Lebanon's autonomy at the expense of Istanbul's long-term interests. Nevertheless, the Porte respected the position taken by Vasa and


Naum, and abstained from taking actions that would contradict them and hence weaken the local government. By contrast, Huwayyik's decoration shifted the balance in favor of the Church vis-à-vis the governor and the local government.

Governor Muzaffer himself backed down, but not the "liberal" front. It continued to challenge the Church's leadership and with considerable success, as evidenced by its victory against the clerics in the 1907 Kisrawan elections and by the steadily growing weight of the Administrative Council, which the liberal group deemed necessary for the true autonomy of Mount Lebanon. Now it was the Council that appeared to be representing Mount Lebanon and defending its autonomy. On both scores, the Council rivaled the Church.

The Church's image of itself as the embodiment of Lebanon had changed little. In this, the Maronite clergy had a point: after all, the idea of Lebanon was their invention.[30] Also, the Church's resistance to inclusion in the Ottoman regime had operated as a catalyst in shaping the autonomist position which the governors adopted inevitably and the Council upheld enthusiastically. Furthermore, the schools, hospitals, and land under the control of the Church put it in a position to render services and create opportunities for all Lebanese. Finally, certain Maronite prelates clearly commanded the respect of non-Maronite communities for their piety, intellectual achievements, broad-minded patriotism, and other personal merits.[31] Yet at the root of the Church's concept of Lebanon lay a religious sense of nationhood that fed on fear and suspicion of Muslims and beliefs about Maronite cultural and moral superiority. In fact, the protection and further development of Christians, in general, and Maronites in particular, were the raisons d'être of Mount Lebanon's government for many of the Maronite clergy. They believed it was incumbent upon the Church to see to it that the government never lost sight of this fundamental function. Having assumed such a supervisory position over the government, it was natural for the ideologically oriented Maronite religious dignitaries to expect government officials and politicans to act in conformity with the will of the Church. Patriarch Huwayyik's public statements about what constituted an affront to the temporal authorities, and his expectations that the governor support the Church against lay opposition, make sense in this context.[32]

The rise of an intersectarian government system and a political life based on intersectarian alliances, however, was gradually transforming the Maronist concept of Lebanon into a broader patriotism which emphasized the peaceful coexistence and joint collective progress of all communities. The liberal group was in the vanguard of those who advocated this new


concept of Lebanon. To be sure, the leaders of the new Lebanonists were Maronites themselves, and their Lebanon was a development of that of the Church.[33] This situation made the liberal position all the more challenging to the Maronite clergy. They viewed the rise of a popular lay leadership acting independent of the Church as a threat to the integrity of the Maronite community. The French were equally concerned over this development for their own reasons. The Quai d'Orsay continued to recognize the Patriarchate as the ultimate representative of the people of Mount Lebanon. In acknowledgment of changing circumstances and sentiments, however, it also appeased the liberal group by supporting some demands directed toward increasing the powers of the Council.[34]

The patriarch likewise adopted a conciliatory attitude toward the liberals, in an effort to preserve his unifying authority over the Maronite community and his influence in Mount Lebanon. He kept aloof from all factions and governmental affairs, and maintained mutually respectful relations with the new governor, Ohannes Pasha. The patriarch's position helped distance the Church, to a certain extent, from the political and administrative processes. Simultaneously, Ohannes Pasha left policy decisions to the Council and acted as head of the administrative apparatus and as an intermediary between the Porte and the Council. These developments accentuated the role played by the Council as the main institutional link between the government and the people, or between the unfolding Lebanese "state" and "nation." The Council, where the liberal Lebanonists were in the majority, assumed political leadership of the Lebanese independence movement. No one who could think of Lebanon as a nation-state in the making doubted that the Maronite patriarch was the foremost and most revered Lebanese.[35] The actual scope and ideological formulation of "Lebanon," however, was far from having been settled. Liberal visions of Lebanon were yet to be reconciled with the original theocratic ones of the Church. The war postponed the settlement of that issue.

The War Years and After, 1915–1920

During the First World War, Mount Lebanon's autonomy was formally abolished and its administration was put under the Interior Ministry in Istanbul, on the one hand, and the military authorities in Damascus, on the other. The modifications introduced by the Interior Ministry did not alter the regular administrative, judicial, and security institutions of the mutasarrifiyya in any fundamental way, while some changes helped streamline the governmental apparatus.[36] Also, the Lebanese remained exempt from military service.[37] The severe measures imposed by the military authorities and the overall effect of direct Ottoman rule, however,


sufficed to deepen the appreciation of the Lebanese people for the self-government they had enjoyed under the mutasarrifiyya regime.

The military authorities abolished the Council, banished a number of councillors and senior officials to Anatolia, and appointed new councillors and officials, including the governor, after Ohannes' resignation in 1915. The military command also subjected Mount Lebanon, along with the rest of the region, to wartime requisitions and martial criminal justice. Many people, Muslim and Christian alike, were tried on charges of high treason and executed or imprisoned by military tribunals.[38] Early in the war, the military authorities even contemplated trying the patriarch because of news that appeared in the French press about his pledge of loyalty to France. The patriarch denied these reports in a letter to the governor, and that was considered sufficient cause to drop the charges against him.[39] Soon thereafter, the patriarch felt it necessary to apply for a sultanic berât in order to protect himself from martial inquisition and his Church's property from expropriation by military authorities. The berât was issued to him in January 1916.[40] The Ottoman government finally put an end to the claims of the Maronite Church to exceptional status, but this took place under military rather than civilian authority, and hence under circumstances which carried little weight in the public consciousness. A significant consequence of this development, however, was that whereas the Maronite Church continued to provide services, relief, and guidance to its followers, and secret intelligence to France,[41] the secular Lebanonists were effectively banned from the political arena and the social scene during the war. Only with the withdrawal of the Ottomans from the area in September 1918 did the pre-war leaders became active again, and the elected councillors resumed their seats and took charge of the government of Mount Lebanon.

The Council remained in charge of the government for about 20 months, with a French commissar appointed by the Allied Forces acting as a governor of sorts. During this period the Council's principal concern was to defend the Mountain's autonomy against actual or potential incursions from the new military overlords of the region. It was also active in ongoing regional and international negotiations, and quarrels, over defining the future of the area. In these activities the Council acted as the official representative of the Lebanese, and it was recognized as such in diplomatic circles insofar as its position coincided with French interests. Otherwise, the French recognized only the Maronite Patriarchate, and along with it the Greek Catholic Church, as the representatives of Lebanon. This situation had important repercussions for church–government relations and


the issue of national identity in Lebanon, as the following summary of events illustrates.

Immediately after the war, the French position in geographical Syria was weak. British troops controlled the entire coastal area and other strategic positions. The Arab nationalist forces controlled the inland area and were preoccupied with laying the foundations of a Syrian–Arab state under Amir Faisal's leadership. The French, who claimed the coastal lands as well as inland Syria, had to rely mainly on diplomatic means to attain their objectives. They hoped to convince Faisal to accept a French mandate over the state he would head. These developments were observed with anxiety in Mount Lebanon. From the Council's point of view, Faisal's program constituted the major threat to the Mountain's interests. Faisal was hesitant to accept even the autonomous regime already existing in the Mountain, let alone the desire of a good many of its leaders for territorial enlargement. The lacks of sufficient agricultural land and of a good port in Mount Lebanon were deemed detrimental to its economy, and hence to autonomy. The addition of the Biqa' and the city of Beirut to Mount Lebanon were the minimal demands. There was also the so-called Kiyan ist position, which argued for a "Greater Lebanon"—that is, a "Lebanon in its historical and natural-geographical boundaries." These boundaries roughly corresponded to those of today's Lebanon. The Kiyan ists were in the majority in the Council.[42]

The Council, eager to make the Lebanese voice heard in the negotiations over the future of the area, reached a resolution concerning its demands in December 1918, and appointed a delegation to the Paris Peace Conference. It demanded the expansion of Mount Lebanon for economic and historical reasons and the acknowledgment of Lebanon's right to independence and self-government within viable territories. It also expressed the desire of Lebanese for a parliamentary democratic regime, with due protection of minority rights, and their willingness to accept "support from the French government" for the cultural and political progress of Lebanon and for "the security it would provide against any infringements upon [Lebanon's] independence."[43] The delegation, composed of two councillors and five officials and intellectuals, was briefly detained in Alexandria by British authorities, but with the intervention of France it finally reached Paris. In Paris, the French diplomats and the lobby of the Lebanese settled in France convinced the delegation (or at least its main speaker, Daud 'Ammun) to emphasize only the territorial requests and the Lebanese desire for French protection not only in Lebanon but in "Syria" at large. This position served French interests in two ways. It gave cre-


dence to French claims to Syria in the peace talks, and enabled France to use the Lebanese desire for territorial enlargement in the negotiations with Faisal in order to make him agree to a French mandate over his government. This outcome of the Lebanese mission was hardly welcome in the Mountain.[44]

When Faisal in fact reached a preliminary agreement with France in April 1919, the Administrative Council reacted by declaring Lebanon independent. Speaking "in its capacity as the representative of the people of Lebanon," the Council proclaimed "the political and administrative independence of Lebanon in its historical and [natural] geographical boundaries," and reasserted "the commitment of the Lebanese government to a democratic regime based on [the principles of] liberty, fraternity, and equality, and to the protection of minority rights and religious freedom." The Council also called for French support, but specifically in regard to the coordination of Lebanon's economic relations with neighboring governments.[45] In an additional decision taken on June 16, the Council granted a mandate to Patriarch Huwayyik to convey Lebanese wishes to the participants of the Peace Conference "on behalf of the government of Lebanon and its Administrative Council."[46] The Council's position was clear. It would agree to a French mandate so long as Lebanon's self-rule was respected and its territorial demands honored along reasonable lines. The choice of the patriarch as a representative of the government was encouraged by the French.[47] The Council went along with the suggestion, evidently because the patriarch was as anxious as the councillors to prevent the incorporation of Lebanon into a Syrian federation, and as eager to expand Mount Lebanon's boundaries. He also appeared to share the councillors' ideas of independence and democracy.

The delegation which Huwayyik formed comprised only bishops, all Maronite except for one who was Greek Catholic. The patriarch's formal memorandum to the Peace Conference was true to his mandate in emphasizing the importance of Lebanon's independence. As Zamir puts it, "although Huwayyik requested a French mandate over Lebanon, the memorandum clearly aimed at curbing the ability of the mandatory power to interfere with the independence and sovereignty of the future state." In the numerous interviews and discussions in which the patriarch and the members of his delegation participated during their extended stay in Paris, however, they put the emphasis on the Christianity of Lebanon. They underlined the differences between the Western-oriented Lebanese and the mostly Bedouin and culturally backward "Arabs," and described at length the atrocities inflicted upon Christians during the war for their loyalty to France. The delegation also appealed to France's responsibility


in protecting Christians against Muslims.[48] This contraposition of Lebanon against the Arabs, and Christianity against Islam, was hardly the standpoint of the majority of councillors, as events were shortly to reveal.

In the autumn of 1919, France and Great Britain finally resolved their differences concerning their interests in the Middle East, and a large French force was dispatched to the area to replace the British in Syria, Lebanon, and Cilicia. General Gouraud, who was known for his devotion to the Catholic Church and his closeness to colonialist circles, commanded the force as the high commissioner of Syria. The Maronite and Greek Catholic communities in general welcomed the French forces. Other communities, however, grew increasingly hostile not only to the French but to whoever was associated with them. The French military authorities repressed unruly action promptly, if not fiercely, and armed their supporters. Nevertheless, the French continued to run into serious difficulties in making themselves popular vis-à-vis the Syrian-Arab nationalists, who controlled the interior.[49]

In Mount Lebanon itself, the Council took a stance critical of French military rule. In a lengthy resolution reached on 19 November 1919, the Council gave vent to its resentment over the intervention of the French Military Expedition into the administration of Mount Lebanon. The Council reasserted its belief that "genuine support and guidance" from the French government would facilitate progress and reform in Lebanon. But if French presence turned into a rule of "domination and exploitation," this would contradict Lebanese expectations and the promises hitherto made to them by eminent French statesmen. The government system that existed in Mount Lebanon was "under the guarantee of still valid international protocols" and in accord with "native traditions and customs." The Lebanese would like to improve on this system, but they would not willingly agree to abridgement of the self-rule, rights, privileges, and freedoms it provided them. Until arrangements were made for a new order in the area, the French authorities should respect the existing system.

With these general considerations in mind, the councillors listed the practices which disturbed them most. Thus the French supervisors and inspectors, who were supposed to act as advisors and trainers (according to the Council), disregarded the hierarchy of the native government and gave orders directly to district and subdistrict governors. They appointed and dismissed judges on slight accusations and without informing the Council or showing due respect for established procedure in these matters. The French officers showed disrespect to their Lebanese colleagues and interfered in administration of the Lebanese security force. Last but not least, attempts were made to introduce the principle of competition in the


appointment of government employees, without regard to the existing principle of sectarian distribution of government positions, which protected "the rights of the communities." Such practices, the Council held, created confusion in all branches of the government, weakened it in the eyes of the people, dishonored government employees, and revealed a disrespect for native traditions and institutions.[50] The Council's resolution did not make much of an impact on the French authorities.

The balance of opinion in Paris had shifted toward a military solution to the Syrian problem, as opposed to a negotiated settlement with Faisal. This orientation necessitated consolidation of the French position in the coastal zone before a final showdown with the Syrian-Arab nationalist forces became inevitable. Besides, Gouraud was assured of Patriarch Huwayyik's support. The patriarch was actively involved in the efforts to generate support for the French—not necessarily because his commitment to Lebanon's independence had changed, but rather because his basic conception of Lebanon as a Christian entity affected his priorities. He continued to see Muslim "Syria" as the major impediment to the creation of his Lebanon, and Catholic France as the deliverer of Lebanon. Once France guaranteed the patriarch that Lebanon, however its boundaries were ultimately drawn, would be kept separate from Syria, he stood solidly behind French policy.

The problems of the Lebanese government were obviously of little significance to the patriarch. In fact, as the Syrian-Arab nationalists became visibly better organized and moved toward a national congress to decide their position vis-à-vis the French demands for a mandate over Syria, the patriarch assumed a position above the government to direct Lebanese policy. He sent to Paris a third delegation, which successfully negotiated the boundaries of a "Greater Lebanon." He made statements on behalf of the Lebanese, accepted delegations, and backed the French campaign for gathering signatures for the appointment of a French governor to Lebanon. All along, he was treated and received by French authorities as if he were the head of Lebanon, and of the Lebanese, par excellence.[51] He was indeed—but of one kind of Lebanon, and one group of Lebanese.

There was another, liberal vision of Lebanon represented by the majority of the councillors. The influence of the ideals of the French Revolution on the representatives of this view is unmistakable, as is their inexperience or naiveté in international power politics. They had evidently hoped to take advantage of the differences between the French and the Syrian-Arab nationalists to create a greater Lebanon after the mutasarrifiyya model. Once they realized their inability to control the French presence and "assistance," they began to seek a reconciliation with the Syrian-Arab na-


tionalists. The nationalists had for some time abandoned their opposition to the notion of an autonomous Lebanon. The Syrian declaration of independence in Damascus, in the congress of 7 March 1920, recognized the right of the Lebanese to preserve their own form of administration "within their pre-war boundaries," on condition that they shun foreign influence.[52] Both the Church and the Council repudiated the congress's resolution unequivocally.[53] Upon this, the Syrian government finally recognized not only the right of the Lebanese to complete independence but also the legitimacy of their demands for territorial enlargement, provided they renounce the French mandate. A group of Lebanese councillors, officials, and other leaders agreed to cooperate with the Syrian government, in view of its new position at a time when French efforts to establish direct rule in Mount Lebanon had intensified.[54]

This group enjoyed the support of the majority of the councillors,[55] who on 10 June 1920 decided to challenge French rule. Their resolution to this effect emphasized the determination of Lebanese to have "complete and absolute independence," the need for the extension of Mount Lebanon's borders, and "the vital importance for the welfare and security of its people that they live in peace with their neighbors" and with themselves. The resolution then expressed the willingness of the Council to reach an agreement with the Syrian government along these lines, and called on the major powers to recognize the right of the Lebanese people to self-government, which was already guaranteed to them by their existing constitution (the Règlement ). The seven councillors who signed this resolution then left for Damascus with the intention to conclude their agreement with the Syrian government and go to Europe, and to the United States if need be, to present their "just claims" at the Peace Conference and in other official circles.[56]

The French authorities, however, arrested them on the road to Damascus. An official decree announcing the arrest accused the councillors of "having sold themselves to the Sharifian [Syrian] government and of attempting to sell also the independence of their fatherland to it in renouncing the mandate of France, the eternal protector of Lebanon and Lebanese." The councillors had indeed accepted financial assistance from external sources to cover their travel expenses, but so had the first Lebanese delegation to the Peace Conference accepted assistance from the French government itself. Nevertheless, the councillors, and other officials who cooperated with them, were put on trial before a military court on charges of high treason and conspiracy, and were sentenced to deportation and payment of heavy fines.[57]

With the majority of the councillors out of the way, General Gouraud


dissolved the Council altogether, citing its inability to fulfill its tasks properly, and appointed in its stead a committee composed of members of his choice. Soon after, he sent an ultimatum to Faisal which led to the battle of Maisalun between the French and the Arab-Syrian forces on 24 July 1920, and to the occupation of Syria by the French. Clearly, the final resolution of the Mountain's popularly elected Administrative Council had given the French the opportunity to silence a major source of opposition to their direct rule in Lebanon, and it had also provided them with the pretext they had been looking for since May to implement their decision to bring Syria under the French mandate by force.[58]

The Church openly rejoiced over the defeat of the Syrian-Arab nationalists. Patriarch Huwayyik and his followers intensified their lobbying in Beirut and in Paris for the creation of as great a Lebanon as possible, with the annexation not only of Beirut and the Biqa', but also of 'Akkar, Saida, Tyre, and Tripoli. They convinced themselves, as well as French public opinion, that these places were inhabited by a largely Christian population. Knowledgeable French officials warned their government in Paris that this was not exactly the case. Nevertheless, with due support from General Gouraud and the French missionaries, the French government finally reached the decision to draw the boundaries of the new Lebanon as desired by the Church party. In August, Prime Minister Millerand announced the decision to the "Lebanese delegation" in Paris, which was in fact Patriarch Huwayyik's delegation, and on 1 September 1920 Gouraud formally proclaimed the establishment of Greater Lebanon in Beirut. In the ceremony held on the occasion, Patriarch Huwayyik was second only to the high commissioner in the protocol and probably the happiest person in Lebanon. The mutasarrifiyya had finally become a state and with significantly larger territories, too. If it was not yet independent, that could be accomplished as well, with due help from France.[59]

This outcome appears as a victory of the Church over the secular government of Mount Lebanon, as represented by the Administrative Council, and hence a victory of Maronite-Christian Lebanonism over a liberal—but interconfessionalist—Lebanonism. The military rule imposed by the Ottoman State in its last gasp had facilitated the victory. But it was the secular, liberal, and democratic government of France, the model of the councillors, which actually delivered it by putting the patriarch above the temporal leaders of Mount Lebanon virtually throughout the history of the mutasarrifiyya from 1861 to 1920.

This preference suited French interests, and it was also reinforced by the anthropological observation that confessionalism was an innate peculiarity of Lebanese society and polity. Confessionalism was indeed a pow-


erful force, but it interacted with many other forces and peculiarities and at length facilitated the rise of a secular government in Mount Lebanon. Yet the French government, and its allies, ultimately preferred to view and judge Lebanon and Syria through the eyes of the Maronite patriarch. With the weight of mighty world powers behind it, the patriarch's vision became the dominant historiographical paradigm as well. To many a historian, Lebanon appeared (and still appears) to be the Maronite Church's dream come true. The main features of this dream, which are conveniently left vague, were: keeping the communities separate, the Christianity of Lebanon, the moral supremacy of the Maronite Church over the traditions and institutions of the secular government, and the dependence of Lebanon on a major power for its internal and external security.

An alternative vision was represented by the seven councillors condemned as traitors and sent into exile in 1920, and their associates. One of the leaders of this group was Sa'adallah Huwayyik, a veteran politician, the Maronite representative of Batrun in the Council, and the patriarch's own brother. We have seen in earlier chapters the stabilizing effect of the conciliatory position taken by Sa'adallah at critical times in Lebanese politics, and his contributions to the strengthening of the Council. Another leader of the group was Sulaiman Kan'an, also a veteran politician and the Maronite representative of Jazzin in the Council. In a lengthy memorandum Kan'an sent, around December 1921, to the Conference on the Limitation of Armanents in Washington, D.C., he explained in detail the position he and his friends took.

He argued that the Lebanese deserved independence because they were a socially, culturally, and politically developed people, already enjoying extensive self-government. The 1861–64 international treaties, and successive protocols, provided Mount Lebanon with an efficient and effective governmental system that was closest to the Western democratic model in the entire area. The success of this system itself was proof of Mount Lebanon's readiness for full independence, for the mandate "has been designed for people who have not had experience in self-government, not for people who have ruled themselves for centuries and shown their competence and efficiency in so doing." In order to promote her own interests, however, France had imposed an oppressive mandate regime on Lebanon, and thereby she had violated the treaties to which she was a party and the principles to which she had committed herself.

Kan'an attributed the past clashes between the Muslims and the Christians in the Mountain to the oppressive "Turkish" policies in the first half of the nineteenth century. Otherwise, he observed, "religion and sectarianism were never in the past a factor in the government or politics of


Mount Lebanon. The Christians lived in peace and prosperity under Mohammedan Princes for at least 200 years." But, he believed, Christians and Muslims in the area were still perfectly capable of living in peace if they were left to their own devices and the adverse effect of the French mandate rule were eliminated:

We want to live at peace with our neighbors; but we cannot ever hope to do so while there is a foreign power in Syria, for which the majority of the Mohammedans hold the minority Christians responsible. Thus those who come to protect us only arouse against us the enmity of our neighbors. We are indeed safer with them, as the past has proven, without this European protection. . . . [T]he amibition of France to have a naval base in Syria, and to extend her commerce, should not be realized at the expense of a people who have always admired her own political and social ideals at home and who are now being used as a pretext for occupation. How, in the face of this, can we ever live at peace with the Mohammedans of Syria? Let alone, we the minority Christians will be in no need of protection; for the principal cause of our neighbor's hostility against us will be forever removed.[60]

Kan'an's romantic-nationalistic perspective on Lebanese history concealed from him certain problems facing Lebanese society, and some of the harsh remarks he made in his memorandum about the French mandate rule (and its local associates) were typically exaggerated.[61] Nevertheless, the main thrust of his views and the stance he and his friends took represent a natural sequel to the activities of the "liberal" councillors and officials since at least the turn of the century and through the interregnum of 1918–20. This group owed its existence to the rise of a secular government structure in Mount Lebanon. They had been instrumental in molding it according to local conditions, and had used it to establish their leadership in the society and enhance their country's autonomy. Along the way, they developed an outlook which became an inseparable aspect of the political culture of the mutasarrifiyya . Kan'an's memorandum was a culminating expression of that outlook.

In this vision,the emphasis is on the independence of Lebanon, and its living in peace with itself and with its neighbors. Reconciliation of the communities, not their contraposition, is the guiding principle in political activity. Religion constitutes the foundation of an individual's cultural identity, but it is subsumed to the political process in public life. A participatory democratic regime that is molded after the West, but blended with local political culture and traditions, is the principal means to maintain internal peace and progress. Neutrality and seeking guarantees from sev-


eral world powers, as opposed to relying on one, are the positions advocated to ensure external security.

The open advocates of this outlook obviously failed to generate much support for their cause against the combined power and influence of France and the Catholic churches in 1920. Even some of their long-time associates rushed to condemn them mercilessly, no doubt out of political shrewdness, or realism.[62] The vision continued to live in the new Lebanon, however. One can easily recognize it in the Lebanese struggle for independence against France; in the Lebanese National Pact of 1943; in the intellectual activities aiming at "opening up" Lebanese Christian nationalism in post-independence Lebanon;[63] and last but not least, in the current political efforts to restore peace in Lebanon after its last civil war. In 1920, the weight of a mighty world power had rendered Patriarch Ilias Huwayyik the representative of Lebanon and Councillor Sa'adallah Huwayyik a traitor to Lebanon, or at best an insignificant figure, in the annals of history. In 1992, and in the light of the Church-government struggle in mutasarrifiyya history, it appears that Sa'adallah's outlook was more conducive to the formation of a unitary nation-state than his brother's. This is not surprising. Sa'adallah and his friends were grass-roots politicians operating within an intersectarian structure. Ilias was a diplomat cleric whose state was his church and whose nation was his flock. The Lebanon he inspired could at best be a confederation of theocratic mini-states. It is high time that Lebanon's historiographers pay as close attention to the Sa'adallahs as they do to the Iliases.



On the verge of the First World War, the mutasarrifiyya appeared to be quite well prepared for independent self-rule. The basic institutions of a modern governmental apparatus were in place. These were centralized executive, fiscal, and judicial branches, and a centralized security force, as well as municipal administrations serving the towns.[1] The government operated under constitutional regulations. Court procedure was formalized, and the law was standardized to a considerable extent. The routine of governmental activities was defined by locally enacted regulations on the basis of local experience and conditions. In short, a basic sense of the rule of law had struck roots. The entire system was financed by locally raised revenue and manned by experienced native personnel. Furthermore, competitive electoral politics had acquired a firm place in Lebanese public life, serving as a link between the government and the people. Finally, political consciousness of the distinctness of the Lebanese and Lebanon had become quite widespread among the population, as witnessed by mass demonstrations, popular publications, and the activities of politically oriented cultural societies.

The public order that had emerged in Mount Lebanon exhibited a number of flaws, however. The economic vulnerability of the mutasarrifiyya was the most severe restriction to its potential statehood in the eyes of native leaders, who were bitter over the Mountain's dependence on Beirut (and the Beirutis) for overseas commercial relations and transportation, and on the Biqa' valley for a good part of their basic food supply. They also resented the restrictions imposed on the Mountain's economy by the capitulatory treaties and concessions which bound the Ottoman government. The autonomy of Mount Lebanon's customs, and the enlargement of its boundaries to include first the Biqa' and eventually Beirut, were the primary political objectives of the Lebanese political leadership.


There were also problems related to the nature of the governmental system as well. Confessionalism—that is, distribution of offices by sect, according to pre-set quotas—did not appear to either contemporary Lebanese or Ottomans to be one of these problems. Rather, confessionalism was widely regarded as an axiom of Lebanese civility. Nepotism, abuse of office for personal gain, and other forms of political patronage and corruption, by contrast, were causes of widespread complaint. There is reason to believe that the complaints about corruption somewhat exaggerated the real situation, for they often came from rival bureaucrats and politicians and were mutual. But the continual engagement of people of public position and influence in sweeping accusations against one another displays a curious cynicism about public authority which cannot but have undermined respect for the government, irrespective of the degree of accuracy in the accusations. As for patronage, personal relations inevitably played a significant role in public life, for Mount Lebanon was a country with a small population, half a million at most. Patronage hindered the development of public-mindedness, and diminished the efficiency of public services, but it also worked as yet another link between the people and the government.

The state of the Lebanese security force, or rather the attitude of the Lebanese leadership toward it, also caused problems. Assuming that centralization of the physical means of coercion is a cardinal requisite of a modern state, one would expect the Mountain's leaders who sought statehood to have paid closer attention to the needs of the security corps than they actually did. The disarmament of civilian groups, and allocation of the necessary funds for the proper training and remuneration of the security corps, remained problematic all along, because the local leaders were unwilling to cooperate with the governors. A law-enforcement agency called the gendarmerie, organized along military lines to maintain order and security in the countryside, was formed and developed mainly through the personal efforts of some of the governors. In fact, the advances in creating a reasonably reliable security force were rapidly eroded during the period when the Council was at the peak of its power. The gendarmes mutinied in response, in 1913, and they made no secret of their anger at the councillors. The mutiny impressed the latter with the need to keep the security corps on their side, but the lesson came too late. During the First World War Mount Lebanon would be placed under Ottoman military authority, and after the war under French military rule. Neither regime would have any interest in the further development of the Lebanese gendarmerie into an autonomous military force.[2]

Other issues overlooked by the Council, and by the native leadership


in general, were the regional and social inequalities in the distribution of the tax burden. Some of these stemmed from the "inaccuracies" of the original land and population surveys conducted in the 1860s, and others arose from the changes that had occurred since then. Rich businessmen, large landowners (including the Maronite Church, by far the largest landlord), and the chiefly Maronite northern parts of the Mountain paid relatively lower taxes with respect to their means. When the reaction to inequities intensified in 1912, the Porte and the guarantor powers agreed to initiate new land and population surveys to ameliorate the situation. The Council blocked the implementation of that decision, in view of Istanbul's maneuvers to raise the level of taxation along with its redistribution. Although the tax raise was intended as a solution to the mutasarrifiyya 's chronic budget deficit, the councillors refused to cooperate. They wanted the Porte to shoulder the deficit, or else to grant autonomy to Mount Lebanon's customs office and allow the annexation of Biqa' into the mutasarrifiyya . In a way, the councillors were trying to exploit the situation to strengthen the mutasarrifiyya as an independent entity, along with their own position within it. The facts that in the meantime the mutasarrifiyya 's acute fiscal problems remained unaddressed, and the public image of the government's justness was thereby tarnished, seem not to have troubled them.

Reliance on international support or rivalries even in matters related to fundamental internal problems, which was characteristic of the councillors, intellectuals, clergy, and other leaders, reflects yet another weakness in the Lebanese polity. The opportunistic ambitions of certain individuals for position, power, and influence, and the intensification of international power rivalries from about the 1870s onward, in the age of "new imperialism," aggravated the problem. At its root, however, lay the special circumstances in which the mutasarrifiyya was originally created, as an enclave of Christians under the protection of European powers in the aftermath of a sectarian civil war. Thereafter, the Mountain's Christian population in general, and the Maronites in particular, felt entitled to Western support and protection by virtue of common religious bonds. The French government was eager to cultivate this feeling through the support it gave the Maronite Church and French missionary and philanthropic work.

The domination of educational activities by the clergy and missionaries, coupled with the inability of the mutasarrifiyya government to build a public educational infrastructure,[3] bred religiously inspired versions of Western civilization which pitted Islam against Christianity at lower levels of sophistication, and the "East" against the "West" in higher intellec-


tual circles. Just as the memories of 1860 became a constant element in the upbringing and socialization of Christians,[4] an idealistic trust in Western powers, and above all in France, marked the outlook of Christian and other Westernized intelligentsia. Many French-trained intellectuals openly called for the Frenchification of Lebanon for the sake of its civilization, with little consideration for other sensitivities and opinions.[5] These circumstances, not to mention the economic advantages that resulted from being associated with increasingly dominant Western business interests, made it easy for many Christians to feel a sense of solidarity with Europe and dependent on Western powers. This attitude, however, hindered the evolution of a unified vision of life in the Mountain that evoked moral, emotional, and intellectual consent from all major groups in the society.

To be sure, a sense of Lebanese-ness had emerged among the residents of the mutasarrifiyya in the form of a general political commitment to the privileges that accrued from its autonomous status. The hardships Lebanese suffered during the Great War under harsh martial rule eroded the last vestiges of respect for Ottoman sovereignty even among Muslims, and enhanced the general appreciation for self-government. A quasi-nationalistic historical vision even developed, viewing Lebanon as the heir of ancient Phoenicia and as a land where various kin communities peacefully coexisted. Lebanese publications, including those sponsored by the government,[6] and cultural societies proudly emphasized the uniqueness of Mount Lebanon and its vicinity as part of the same geographical and historical entity. The influence of secular nationalistic ideals emanating from the West, and particularly France, on the nascent Lebanonism is unmistakable. Unlike many other nationalisms on the rise in the non-Western world early in the twentieth century, however, Lebanonism was not an intellectual construct alone, but was rooted in fifty-odd years of political experience in building an actual territorial government.

It was in the light of this experience, and the desire for independence which it nourished, that a group of Lebanese councillors and politicians were finally able to articulate a broad vision of Lebanon. As mentioned above, emphasis was put on the independence of Lebanon and on its living in peace with itself and with its neighbors. Religion still constituted the foundation of an individual's cultural identity, but it was to be subsumed to the political process in public life; and reconciliation of the communities, not their contraposition, was to be the guiding principle in political activity. A participatory democratic regime modeled after the West, but blended with the local political culture and traditions, was the principal means to maintain internal peace and progress. Neutrality and seeking


guarantees from several powers, as opposed to relying on one, were the positions advocated to ensure external security. The French-mandate authorities banned the open advocates of this program from politics in 1920, and instead cooperated with the Maronite patriarch, other Catholic clergy, and anyone willing to help consolidate French rule in the area, in return for the creation of a greater Lebanon. The result was a political victory for the Maronite Church and a new lease on life for the concept of Lebanon as a construct essentially designed to protect Christians from Muslims.

In the new Lebanon, the East-West and Islam-Christianity dichotomies inevitably became more emphatic. It was now far less Christian than the mutasarrifiyya in numerical terms,[7] yet it was under French rule, and the Maronite Church and a group of Francophile leaders were acting as its spiritual and intellectual legitimizers.[8] The French and their partners viewed Lebanon as an outpost of Western civilization and were confident of the superiority of their position as well as vision. That the West represented a lesson in human civilization to be learned by all for "progress" had long become, literally, an article of faith in the area. Acceptance of foreign rule and the spiritual authority of a deeply politicized church in the name of civilization and progress, however, was an affront to many among the willing and unwilling residents of the new Lebanon. Indeed, the greater Lebanon might well have been stillborn, had it not been for the efforts of a group of independentist liberal politicians and intellectuals to keep the dialogue among the various indigenous communities and world-views alive with the aim of making Lebanon a viable nation-state.[9]

There can be little doubt that the program around which this group finally rallied, and the National Pact of 1943 which its leaders signed, evolved from the positions taken by the defenders of the institutions and political traditions of the mutasarrifiyya against direct French rule in 1919–20. The mutasarrifiyya experience was a source of inspiration for the Lebanese intellectual and political elite, who were actively involved in the efforts to cultivate a concept of Lebanon that appealed to all citizens in the earlier decades of the Republic. These elite hailed the mutasarrifiyya period as a "golden age" in Lebanon's history. But, like their predecessors in the early 1920s, they remembered the Ottomans only to blame them for what had gone "wrong" in Lebanese (and Arab) history.[10] This merciless excoriation of the Ottoman past might have been necessary to strengthen the new nationalist ideology. After all, the political leaders of the young Republic of Turkey across the Mediterranean were also busy bashing the Ottomans for all the "wrongs" suffered by the Turks in the past. Whatever the faults of the Ottomans might have been, however, there is not sufficient cause to ignore the enormously rich archival information they have bequeathed us.


These data offer certain insights into modern Lebanese history that have to be considered seriously. First, they demonstrate that Ottoman statesmen and the local political leadership played a far more crucial role in shaping Mount Lebanon's governmental institutions and political traditions than it appears in works based on European sources. In fact, the Ottoman evidence suggests that whereas European intervention in the affairs of the Mountain was often self-interested, sectarian, and divisive, the Ottomans perforce worked hard, until 1912–13, to build a stable governmental order which would help reconcile the moral and material differences among Mount Lebanon's different regions, sects, and dominant social classes.

The Ottoman position facilitated the rise of an intersectarian and independent-minded local leadership which had an impact of its own on events and was primarily instrumental in adaptation of the mutasarrifiyya regime to the changing needs, aspirations, and orientations of the people of Mount Lebanon. This leadership took advantage of Ottoman weaknesses and fear of foreign intervention, on the one hand, and European ambitions and conflicts of interest over Mount Lebanon, on the other, in order to play an increasingly active and independent role in the governmental process. The Administrative Council served as the principal institutional means by which local leaders acquired and exercised ever greater authority over the affairs of their country. As the Council's powers increased over time, so did the prestige of the councillors. Their election became increasingly competitive, and also better structured to assure reliability. In the end, the Council acquired the characteristics of a national assembly, and the councillors considered themselves representatives of the "Lebanese nation," and not without good reason. This development of the Council is a central theme in Ottoman data, and hence in the story of Lebanon I have told in these pages.

Another implication of the Ottoman data is that the "long peace" which reigned in Mount Lebanon during the mutasarrifiyya period made possible the establishment of the foundations of the modern state of Lebanon. Admittedly, a more comprehensive assessment of these foundations requires in-depth studies of the Biqa' and the Province of Beirut during the same period, with a special emphasis on the political institutions, traditions, and problems which emerged in the city of Beirut.[11] The Ottoman documents on these places are as numerous and rich as those for Mount Lebanon. A survey of Ottoman documents on Mount Lebanon in themselves, however, indicates that several key integrative political institutions and traditions of the Republic of Lebanon date from the days of the mutasarrifiyya . I have already indicated the link between the National Pact of 1943 and the position taken by the Administrative Council in 1920.


The Presidency and the Assembly, the two most fundamental institutions of the Lebanese political system, are also good examples. Even through the darkest days of the recent civil war, when governmental authority was in shambles, these two institutions continued to represent Lebanon's statehood and unity.[12] The powerful position of the president in the Lebanese polity acquires a new meaning when viewed in the light of the role played by the mutasarrifiyya governors as chief implementors of a state system in Mount Lebanon. Likewise, the development of the Administrative Council into an embryonic national assembly, confining the governor's powers, during the same period, explains not only the ease with which Lebanese politicians adapted to a parliamentary democratic system, but also the significance of the Assembly as a symbol of the unity of the Lebanese people, even at the nadir of its actual power.

Lebanon's peculiar election system is also a conspicuous legacy of the mutasarrifiyya —a system which, to quote Clifford Geertz, "acts to align certain leaders from the various sects over against certain other such leaders in such a way that political ties tend to cross-cut sectarian ones," thus generating interconfessional coalitions and intraconfessional factions.[13] Yet another legacy of the mutasarrifiyya is the experience to organize and conduct governmental activity within a constitutional framework. The Règlement was an active document which worked. Its stipulations were regularly invoked, relied upon, and amended, if need be, as guidelines for conducting the governance of Mount Lebanon. The modern Lebanese constitution does not follow from the Règlement directly, but the notion of a constitutional state does.[14] These examples should suffice to emphasize that the modern political institutions and traditions of Lebanese polity are more deeply rooted in history than is often presumed to be the case, and that they involve a democratic-participatory orientation, as opposed to an authoritarian-bureaucratic one.

Finally, the Ottoman data, not to mention other evidence, suggest that an analytical distinction has to be made between confessionalism as a means of sociopolitical organization and integration, and confessionalism as a basis of nationalistic political identity and loyalty. In Mount Lebanon, the former helped generate a public sphere and integral polity, but the latter hampered the articulation of existing religious and cultural world-views into a broad political outlook that inculcated the individual members of different groups with a sense of common citizenship. The struggle between the secular government and the Maronite Church over power and influence in the Mountain, and over the representation of its people, has to be viewed in the light of this distinction. The secular-state builders strove to wrest government autonomy from the Maronite Church and to


secularize the concept of Lebanon, and their achievements cannot be overlooked. In 1860, the Mountain was a land divided against itself basically along religious lines. Whatever the causes of this situation, a reconciliation had to start with recognition of the belligerent groups and the creation of an environment conducive to a genuine dialogue among them. Confessionalism as a means of sociopolitical organization served this purpose.

By contrast, the proto-nationalistic outlook of the ideologically oriented Maronite clergy, expecting political loyalty from their flock, engendered reaction and similar nationalisms among other communities. The Church's position at first might well have been in tune with the changing times and an appropriate response to the needs of the Maronite peasants. It certainly forced the governors to defend the autonomy of the Mountain and to seek support from the local population in an effort to enhance the government's autonomy and social basis vis-à-vis the Church. In other words, the Church's Maronist Lebanonism helped generate conditions conducive to political modernization in the Mountain. The dominant group among the Maronite clergy, however, failed to transcend the confessionalist roots of Maronist nationalism even when arguing for a greater Lebanon where Maronites were bound to coexist with a larger proportion of non-Maronites and non-Christians than in the Mountain. Moreover, they remained forever suspicious of politicians who deviated from the will of the Church.

That deviation was inevitable, however. As Ernest Gellner puts it:

An industrial [read "modern" or "technicalistic," if you wish] high culture is no longer linked—whatever its history—to a faith and a church. Its maintenance seems to require the resources of a state coexistensive with society, rather than merely those of a church superimposed on it. A growth-bound economy dependent on cognitive innovation cannot seriously link its cultural machinery (which it needs unconditionally) to some doctrinal faith which rapidly becomes obsolete, and often ridiculous. So the culture needs to be sustained as a culture, and not as the carrier or scarcely noticed accompaniment of a faith.[15]

The high culture which Gellner discusses in the context of political modernization "is the necessary shared medium, the life-blood or perhaps the minimal shared atmosphere, within which alone the members of the society can breathe and survive and produce. For a given society, it must be one in which they can all breathe and speak and produce."[16] The generation of such a high culture is a dynamic process, particularly for societies


making the transition from agrarian to modern forms of societal organization along with ever-intensifying technicalization and commercialization and ever more complex social division of labor, or economic specialization, and mobility. The social groups which dominate the governmental apparatus that is necessary to facilitate this transition need constantly to renegotiate, readjust, and inevitably share their hegemony with others. Politics of this nature calls for genuine leadership which involves developing intellectual, moral, emotional, and cultural consent from all major groups involved. Only then will the state become coextensive with society, and the society a "nation-people" in the sense Gramsci uses the term.[17]

In this sense, the secular politicians and statesmen involved in building a governmental apparatus and a public sphere via intersectarian dialogue and negotiations appear to have been on the right track. They were responding to the challenges of modernization in the light of the realities of their environment. Maronist Lebanonism was one of the forces which initiated the process, but it was trapped in its own sectarian origins. There were Maronite clergy who tried to pull the Church out of politics, or to broaden its perspective. But they were rather marginally effective, not least because of the opposition of the French to such efforts. Under French rule, confessionalism as a basis of nationhood gained a new lease on life, on the assumption that sectarianism was an inherent quality of the Lebanese people.[18] This was not the assumption behind the confessionalist arrangements under the mutasarrifiyya regime, and it cannot be the assumption of any "project" of nation-state building or sociopolitical modernization—even if it is recommended and sustained by an exemplary modern power.


Appendix A
The Governors of Mount Lebanon, 1861–1918

According to article 1 of the Règlement , the governor of Mount Lebanon should be "a Christian appointed by the Ottoman government and directly responsible to the Sublime Porte." In the course of time, additional conditions concerning the selection of the governor took form as a result of negotiations between the guarantor powers, including the Ottoman State. It was agreed that the governor should be a Catholic Christian Ottoman functionary and that he should serve with the rank of pasha (that is, the equivalent of "vizier" for civilian bureaucrats, and "general" for officers). The governor was selected by the unanimous decision of the guarantor powers from a list of names proposed by the Ottoman government. The decision was to be taken at a conference of the guarantor powers' ambassadors to Istanbul with the Ottoman foreign minister, ratified by a protocol, and promulgated by an imperial decree. The term of office of the governor was also specified. In addition, each conference served as an occasion to review the affairs of Mount Lebanon and make the necessary amendments in its constitution, again by the unanimous decision of the guarantor powers.[1]

The governors selected by this process were invariably the product of the Tanzîmât (reorganization) reforms, which were intended to modernize the Ottoman administrative system and also to involve the non-Muslim elements in that system on an (in principle) egalitarian basis. A steadily increasing number of non-Muslim bureaucrats who were incorporated into the unfolding Ottoman administrative system served as the pool from which the nominees for the governorship of Mount Lebanon were drawn.[2] A glance at the personal background of the governors of Mount Lebanon should cast light on not only the history of the mutasarrifiyya but also the human dimensions of the Ottoman attempts at reorganization.


Davud Pasha (1861–1868)

Davud, the son of Karabet Artin, was born around 1816 in Istanbul. He belonged to the Armenian Catholic Church. His parents placed him with a French family in Istanbul, and then in a French school in Izmir, in order to help him learn a European language. He also attended the School of Jurisprudence (Mekteb-i Ma'ârif-i'Adliye ), which was established in 1839 to train young bureaucrats. Davud then joined the Foreign Ministry and spent several years in the Ottoman Legation in Berlin and served as the Ottoman consul-general in Vienna. During his tenure abroad he attended the universities of Berlin and Jena, studying law. In 1845, he published a compilation of ancient Germanic tribal laws and customs (Histoire de la législation des Anciens Germains , 2 vols., Berlin). He also seems to have received a doctorate in law from the University of Jena in 1853 (or 1858?). In 1857 he returned to Istanbul to head the Government Publications Department. The next year he became the director of Telegraph Services. He also assisted the foreign minister in several missions abroad, and so established himself in diplomatic circles.

He was appointed governor of Mount Lebanon for a term of three years on the basis of the protocol of 9 June 1861 and the imperial decree of 9 M 1278 (17 July 1861). Simultaneously, he was given the rank of vizier. According to the protocol of 6 September 1864, his term was extended for five years. He resigned in May 1868, in view of the reluctance of the Porte to increase his powers.

Back in Istanbul, he was appointed minister of Public Works. Later, however, he was charged with misconduct in handling the official negotiations with Baron Hirsch over financing a railroad project in Rumelia. His vizirate was rescinded when he chose not to be present at his trial and instead stayed in Europe. He died in Biarritz in 1873.

Davud was divorced from his British wife in 1861 and left no heirs. He bequeathed his considerable wealth to the Armenian Catholic Church in Istanbul to be used for the education of needy children.[3]

Franko Pasha (1868–1873)

Franko, the son of Nasri Kusa, was born in Istanbul in 1814. He belonged to the Greek Catholic Church. His family, the Kusas, was originally from Aleppo, and spoke Arabic at home. Franko Nasri joined the Ottoman Foreign Ministry at a young age, studied several languages as part of his training, and rose to the position of chief secretary for foreign affairs. He accompanied Fuad Pasha as a chief aide in legal matters and translator in the latter's Syrian mission in 1860. He was later promoted to head the Galata Customs Office in Istanbul.


He was given the rank of vizier and appointed governor of Mount Lebanon by the imperial decrees of 13 and 19 S 1285 (5 and 11 June 1868). His governorship was ratified and its term set for ten years by the protocol of 27 July 1868 and the imperial decree of 7 Ca 1285 (26 August 1868). He died on 2 February 1873, long before the completion of his term.

He was survived by four sons and two daughters. Three of his sons, Nasri Franko, Yusuf Franko, and Fethi Franko, and one of his son-in-laws, Naum Tütüncü, became high-ranking officials in the Ottoman Foreign Service.[4]

Rüstem Pasha (1873–1883)

Rüstem "Mariani" was born in 1810 in Florence of Italian parents. He belonged to the Latin Church. His father was believed to be a count and from a family (the Marianis) with deep roots in Ottoman lands. Rüstem grew up in affluence and received a good education. But when his father became impoverished and died prematurely, he sought a career in the Ottoman Foreign Ministry. Thanks to his mother's contacts, he became a protégé of the Ottoman ambassador to Rome. He moved to Istanbul with the ambassador, acquired Ottoman citizenship, and rose rapidly in the Foreign Ministry. After serving as translator and confidential secretary for different ministers, he was first appointed Ottoman plenipotentiary in Florence and Rome, and finally ambassador to St. Petersburg. He was well respected in diplomatic circles as well as in the higher echelons of the Ottoman bureaucracy.

Rüstem was promoted to the rank of vizier and appointed governor of Mount Lebanon by the imperial decrees of 15 and 21 Z 1289 (February 1873). His governorship was ratified by the ambassadorial conference and the protocol of 22 April 1873 for a term of ten years.

After completing his term, he was appointed Ottoman ambassador to London, where he died in 1885. Rüstem never married.[5]

Vasa Pasha (1883–1892)

Vasa was born in 1824 in Skodra (Scutari), in northern Albania. He was of the Mirdites clan and a Roman Catholic. Vasa was sent to Rome for his education. He devoted much of his time to studying languages and literature. He wrote and translated poems, plays, and literary and historical essays. A collection of his poems in Italian was eventually published. He also wrote a book on Albanian cultural history which was translated into English under the title The Truth on Albania and the Albanians: Historical and Critical (London, 1879).


When he was about twenty years old, he came to Istanbul as much to participate in the lively literary activities of the capital as to improve his Turkish and to seek a career in the service of the Ottoman government. He joined the Foreign Ministry and rose to the position of counselor (müstesâr ) in the Ottoman Embassy in London. Later he switched to the Interior Ministry and was assigned to several important missions which involved the pacification of restive areas and implementation of administrative reforms. He served mostly in the European provinces but also in Aleppo, where he stayed for six years and added Arabic to his collection of languages. At the time of his appointment to Mount Lebanon, he was the counselor of the Province of Edirne.

Vasa was appointed to Mount Lebanon for a term of ten years on the basis of the protocol of 8 May 1883 and imperial decrees of 3 and 10 B 1300 (10–17 May 1883). Unlike his predecessors, Vasa had serious competition during his selection. The other candidates were Nasri Franko Kusa, who was at the time chief secretary of the Ottoman Embassy in Vienna; Danis Efendi, the Ottoman consul general in Ragusa; Bedros Efendi Kuyumcuyan, an Armenian Catholic and director of the Mines and Forests Department; and Bartev Antuan Efendi from the Ministry of Justice. Vasa emerged as a compromise candidate in this competition. He served in Mount Lebanon until his death on 26 June 1892, shortly before the completion of his term.

Vasa was married three times. His second wife, a Greek Orthodox, died while he was serving in Mount Lebanon. He remarried to a French woman settled in Beirut, and this union produced two sons. Vasa also had a daughter from his first marriage. His son-in-law, Kupelyan (Küpeliyan?) Efendi, worked as head of the Foreign Correspondence Bureau under Vasa in Mount Lebanon, becoming as famous for his cupidity as his intelligence.[6]

Naum Pasha (1892–1902)

Naum was born in 1846 in Istanbul. He was a Latin Catholic and of the Tütüncü family with roots in Aleppo. The name of the family implies that it was involved in the tobacco trade. Naum himself was brought up to serve in the Ottoman government. In this respect, the influence of Franko Pasha, who was his maternal uncle and became his father-in-law, is evident.

Naum attended Galatasaray, the imperial lycée established to train an elite corps of public servants. Upon his graduation he joined the Foreign Ministry. He briefly served as confidential secretary in the Ottoman Em-


bassy in St. Petersburg. At his own insistence he was recalled to Istanbul, where he spent most of his career and rose to the position of undersecretary in charge of the Foreign Correspondence Office.

In accordance with the protocol of 15 August 1892 and the imperial decree of 24 M 1310 (17 August 1892), he was elevated to the rank of vizier and appointed governor of Mount Lebanon for a term of five years. His rivals in the selection were: Selim Melhame, a Maronite close to the sultan and the minister of Mines and Forests; Bedros Kuyumcuyan; Nasri Franko; Fethullah Efendi, another Aleppan and a member of the State Council; and a certain Gadban (?) Efendi. Naum ran into little competition, however, when his term was extended for an additional five years by the protocol of 14 August 1897.

Naum returned to Istanbul in 1902 to resume his former post as director of the Foreign Correspondence Office. In 1907–08, he was appointed Ottoman ambassador to Paris, where he died in 1911. He was survived by a son, who also entered the Ottoman Foreign Ministry in 1907.[7]

Muzaffer Pasha (1902–1907)

Muzaffer was born around 1837–40 as Ladislas Czaykowski, the son of a Polish count, Michael (Izador) Czaykowski. His birthplace is not certain. His father, who was active in the Polish independence movement against Russia, fled to Istanbul and entered the service of the sultan in the 1830s. He acquired the rank of general (pasha) and converted to Islam, adopting the name of Sadik. He also renamed his two sons, Adam and Ladislas, as Enver and Muzaffer, though they (and their mother?) remained Roman Catholics. Sadik Pasha fought in the Crimean War (1856) on the Ottoman side. Later he returned to Poland and converted to Orthodox Christianity. As he continued to work for Polish independence, however, he was expelled from the army. In frustration, he committed suicide. Adam (Enver), who had returned to Poland together with his father and entered the Polish army as an officer, pursued a successful career there.

Muzaffer, who attended the prestigious French military school of St. Cyr, chose to seek a career in the service of the Ottoman government. Upon his graduation in 1863, he entered the cavalry corps of the Ottoman army. In 1867 he became a military aide to Sultan Abdulaziz and accompanied him on his European tour of 1870. Muzaffer fought in the 1877 war against Russia, became an aide to Abdulhamid II, and served as a member of the military reforms and military inspection committees. Simultaneously, he was appointed the commander of the Imperial, Stable, a position which required the sultan's confidence.


In 1902 Muzaffer appeared as a surprise candidate for the governorship of Mount Lebanon. His rivals were much better known in diplomatic circles: Yusuf Franko and his brother Fethi Franko, both high officials in the Foreign Ministry; Danis Efendi; and Morel Bey, the counselor of the Ottoman Embassy in Berlin. Nevertheless, growing reaction to the Kusas and their local allies in the Mountain, and the failure of the ambassadorial conference to agree on any other person than Muzaffer, determined the final choice. According to the protocol of 2 September 1902 and the imperial decree of 28 C 1320 (2 October 1902), Muzaffer became governor of Mount Lebanon for a term of five years and with the rank of müsir (pasha). He died on 28 June 1907, shortly before the completion of his term.

Muzaffer was married to the daughter of the translator of the Russian Embassy in Istanbul. A high liver, she often made it difficult for Muzaffer to make both ends meet. They had two sons, Fuad and Resid, both of whom joined the Ottoman Foreign Ministry. Fuad appears to have pursued a humble but steady career, rising—so far as his career can be traced—to the position of consul in Brazil. Resid, on the other hand, caused his family much embarrassment. He was expelled from the Foreign Ministry when he was serving in France, apparently for his gambling habits and rakish behavior. He was then also forced to leave France because of swindling charges. He came to Mount Lebanon, but his behavior there caused the Porte to order Muzaffer to send his son away. Resid left for Italy, where his libertine habits brought his adventurous life finally to an end in prison.[8]

Yusuf Pasha (1907–1912)

Yusuf, the son of Franko Kusa, was born in Istanbul in 1856. He was a Greek Catholic. He spent the years 1868–1873 in Mount Lebanon, where he continued his education under private tutors. He then joined the Ottoman Foreign Ministry. In 1899 he became director of the Foreign Correspondence Office and represented the Ottoman State at the Hague Peace Conference. He was in charge of the foreign minister's private secretariat (kalem-i mahsûs ) at the time of his appointment to Mount Lebanon, for a term of five years and with the rank of vizier, by the protocol of 8 July 1907 and the imperial decree of 28 Ca 1325 (9 July 1907). He was the sole candidate of all the parties involved.

After completing his term, Yusuf was appointed to the Senate. It is not known what became of him thereafter. He was married to the daughter of a French banker in Istanbul. They had two daughters.[9]


Ohannes Pasha (1912–1915)

Ohannes, the son of Bedros Kuyumcuyan, was born in Istanbul in 1852. He was an Armenian Catholic. The name of the family suggests that at one point its members were jewelers; they were certainly wealthy. Ohannes' father, Bedros, was himself a career bureaucrat and a protégé of the powerful Âli Pasha (d. 1871). As indicated above, Bedros emerged as a strong candidate for the governorship of Mount Lebanon on at least two occasions, partly because he was married to a Maronite, the niece of the manager of the Church's legation in Istanbul. Bedros served as director of Forests ad Mines and then as a member of the State Council.

Ohannes chose a career in the Foreign Ministry. He served as a counselor in the Ottoman Embassy in Rome. At the time of his appointment to Mount Lebanon, he was a counselor in the Foreign Ministry in Istanbul. He was nominated along with several other candidates, who included a senior inspector in the Ministry of Postage and Telegraph and a senior counselor in the Revenue Department. The choice fell on Ohannes. According to the protocol of 23 December 1912 and the imperial decree of the same date (13 M 1331), he was promoted to the rank of vizier and appointed to Mount Lebanon for a term of five years. He resigned in June 1915 because he did not want to work with Cemal Pasha, the military governor of the region during the First World War. Upon his return to Istanbul, Ohannes was appointed to the Senate. Later, he emigrated to Rome and died there. He had several children.[10]

The Last Governors (1915–1918)

On 11 July 1915, the Ottoman government formally abrogated the protocols. Thereafter the Interior Ministry appointed the governors of Mount Lebanon. Ali Münif Bey served from 25 September 1915 to 15 May 1916. He was then appointed governor of Beirut. Isma'il Haqqi (or Ismail Hakki Bey) replaced him in Mount Lebanon. It was Isma'il Haqqi who oversaw the publication of, and contributed to, the valuable compilation of studies on Lebanon, Lubnân: mabâhith 'ilmiyya wa ijtimâ'iyya . Indeed, by all accounts, both of these governors were capable and experienced administrators, but they had little power vis-à-vis the military authorities.

In the final months of the war, Isma'il Haqqi replaced Ali Münif in Beirut, and a Mümtaz Bey was sent to govern Mount Lebanon (15 Aug.–30 Sept. 1918). All he could do was abandon his position as soon as the news of the Ottoman defeat and retreat reached the Mountain.[11]


Appendix B
Ottoman Documents on Mount Lebanon, 1861–1918

There are important collections of documents in the Prime Ministry Archives[1] in Istanbul on the dual-districts regime (1841–1860) and the events of 1860–61 which paved the road to the mutasarrifiyya . Research on these topics must begin with a survey of the relevant files incorporated in the Mesâil-i Mühimme Irâdeleri (collection of decrees on important issues): (a) Cebel-i Lübnân , 1258–1264 hijrî (henceforth "h ") (1842–1848), nos. 1111–1223; (b) the Saida Province, 1257–1264 h (1841–1848), nos. 2144–2181; and (c) the "Suriye" (Damascus) Province, 1262–1263 h (1846–1847), nos. 2076–2077.

The interested scholar should also survey the Dîvân-i Hümâyûn Mühimme Defterleri (Imperial Chancery registers on important issues), nos. 253–261, L 1252–S 1280 h (1837–1863); and the Mühimme-i Mektûme Defterleri (registers for classified decisions), nos. 9 and 10, dated 1246–1309 h (1830–1891). Professor Gökbilgin's article on Mount Lebanon during the dual-districts period makes clear that the collections mentioned above include important information on the years which preceded the foundation of the mutasarrifiyya .[2] As for the mutasarrifiyya years, numerous documents dating from this period exist in the various sections of the Prime Ministry Archives.

Bâb-i 'Âli Evrâk Odasi (BEO)

The files of the "Sublime Porte Secretariat," Bâb-i 'Âli Evrâk Odasi , are to be consulted first. Since the governor was directly responsible to the grand vizier, virtually all correspondence between the mutasarrifiyya and various government departments were therefore conducted through the Porte. As a result, the bulk of the records on Lebanon accumulated at the BEO. Three of the various collections of documents in the BEO today are particularly important for research on Lebanon.


(1) 'Ayniyât Defterleri (registers of duplicates). In the 1860s and 1870s, copies of the outgoing letters from the Sublime Porte Secretariat were recorded in special registers called 'ayniyât defterleri . Among the 'ayniyât registers available to researchers, the following contain information on Lebanon:

(a ) No. 866: 1 M 1284–3 S 1294 h (May 1867–Feb. 1877). Most of the issues covered in this register are related to criminal cases and educational institutions in Mount Lebanon, and its border disputes with the Province of Damascus ("Suriye")—which included the city of Beirut at this stage.

(b) Nos. 902–908: 1 M 1283–22 L 1296 h (May 1866–Oct. 1879). These seven registers include the correspondence between Istanbul and Damascus, but occasionally the affairs of Mount Lebanon are also covered.

(2) Gelen-Giden Defterleri (registers for correspondence). The 'ayniyât registers were eventually replaced by the so-called gelen-giden (or vâridasâdira ) registers, which are similar documents. They include copies of brief summaries of the correspondence between the Porte and different government departments, including the provincial governments. A researcher can reach the original letters and the related documentary files—if they exist in the BEO—by referring to the dates and numbers mentioned in the registers. The following gelen-giden registers are relevant to Mount Lebanon:

(a) Gelen-Giden no. 1013, the register of the regulations on Mount Lebanon, includes the regulations and international protocols governing the regime in the Mountain, as well as the major decrees and instructions dispatched to its governors.

(b) Gelen-Giden registers duplicating the grand viziers' letters to the governors in Mount Lebanon: no. 1014, 25 S 1283–11 Za 1294 h (July 1866–Nov. 1877); no. 1015, 6 Ca 1283–19 M 1294 h (Sept. 1866–Feb. 1877); no. 280*,[3] 23 M 1290–23 M 1291 h (March 1873–March 1874); no. 281*, 27 M 1291–13 Ra 1297 h (March 1874–Feb. 1880); no. 1016, 1 S 1298–25 Sh 1325 h (Jan. 1881–Oct. 1907); no. 282*, 20 C 1304–3 R 1315 h (March 1887–Sept. 1897); no 283*, 6 N 1315–22 N 1333 h (Jan. 1898–Aug. 1915); no. 1019, 24 N 1325–22 N 1333 h (Oct. 1907–Aug. 1915); and no. 971* (telegrams to Mount Lebanon).

(c) Gelen-Giden registers which cover the correspondence between the Porte and various ministries on issues related to Mount Lebanon: no. 1010, 17 L 1309–25 Sh 1321 h (May 1892–Nov. 1903); and no. 1011, 7 C 1326–26 R 1333 h (July 1908–March 1915).[4]

(d) Gelen-Giden registers for incoming letters from Mount Lebanon:


no. 278*, 26 C 1303–12 N 1313 h (Apr. 1886–Feb. 1896); and no. 279*, 27 Sh 1315–10 L 1333 h (Jan. 1898–Aug. 1915).

(e) Other relevant Gelen-Giden registers: nos. 268–275*, 1307–1328 h (1889–1910), and nos. 340–351, 1290–1328 h (1873–1910) cover the correspondence between Istanbul and Beirut, and Istanbul and Damascus, respectively. Finally, nos. 1009, 1017, 1018, and 1020 provide concise summaries of the correspondence between Istanbul and Mount Lebanon from 1881 to 1914.

(3) BEO: Mümtâze-Cebel-i Lübnân Dosyalari (BEO files on the privileged provinces, Mount Lebanon). Around the late 1880s, a more methodical filing system began to be used in the BEO.[5] The improvement is observable in the files on Lebanon. From about 1890 onward, a separate file was kept for each issue that preoccupied the Porte. A detailed catalogue of the files was also kept. The resulting collection of documents is called the BEO: Mümtâze-Cebel-i Lübnân (henceforth "CL") files. It contains a total of about 7, 450 documents in 317 files, covering the period from 1890 to 1916, although some of the files include earlier documents. A researcher can find rich information in the CL files on issues related to the various religious communities and churches in Mount Lebanon, the officials of the mutasarrifiyya , its administrative and judicial organization and finances, problems of security and order, relations and disputes between the mutasarrifiyya and the neighboring provinces, cultural life, publications and education, the activities of European missions, public works and communications, emigration, and contraband. There are also in the files petitions from the Lebanese expressing grievances and thoughts about the conduct of officials. The files related to the Administrative Council and local elections, and land and water disputes relegated to the central government for settlement, are similarly instructive about the problems that preoccupied the Lebanese.

Yildiz Esâs Evrâki (YEE)

Another important group of documents which contains information on Lebanon in the Prime Ministry Archives is the Yildiz Esâs Evrâki (main Yildiz documents). It consists of a part of the numerous files that had accumulated in the Yildiz Palace during Abdulhamid II's authoritarian rule (1876–1909).[6] Two files in the YEE, nos. 35/429/122/104 and 35/439/122/105, are especially worthy of note. They include the papers of Governor Vasa Pasha (1883–1892), which were brought to the Palace, quite unusually so, by his son-in-law.[7] Recently, additional sections of Abdulhamid II's enormous palace archives have been made available to re-


searchers. It is certain that these sections contain valuable information on Lebanon.


The irâdes , or imperial decrees, represent the decisions of the central government as approved by the sultan. Most of the irâde files also include supplementary documents which explain or have served as a basis to the decision taken. The irâde files constitute an indispensable source of information for late Ottoman history, although their chronologically arranged catalogues are burdensome to use. I have used these files selectively in the present work, to check certain information, because the basic decrees on Mount Lebanon are reproduced in GG 1013 and CL files.

Dîvân-i Hümâyün Evrâki

The Dîvân-i Hümâyün Evrâki , or "documents of the Imperial Chancery," also include information on the mutasarrifiyya :

(1) Mühimme Defteri (Imperial Chancery register on important decisions) no. 261, covering the years from 1277 to 1280 h (1860–1863), and the beginnings of the Mühimme-i Mektûme Defteri (register for classified decisions) no. 10, provide data on the earlier years of the mutasarrifiyya .

(2) Other Imperial Chancery registers may also be of use in research on Lebanon. The so-called Imtiyâz Defterleri can be used to cross-check and supplement the information provided in the Gelen-Giden registers about the concessions and privileges granted to individuals or firms for the construction of such public works as tramlines and irrigation canals in Lebanon. In addition, the Kilise Defterleri can be consulted for information on the construction and renovation of churches as well as schools, orphanages, and other institutions attached to the churches.

(3) In the Haritalar Tasnîfi or "Map Collection" of the Imperial Chancery, maps nos. D 20:11/1 and D 20:11/2 chart the border between the mutasarrifiyya and the Province of Beirut. The former has a scale of 1:50,000 and the latter 1:500,000.

In addition to the Prime Ministry Archives, the Ottoman Foreign Ministry (Hâriciye ) Archives in Istanbul also contain important documents on the mutasarrifiyya . Especially in the years up to 1871–1878, the Foreign Ministry played a more direct role in handling the mutasarrifiyya 's affairs. Consequently, important documents accumulated there during the formative years of the mutasarrifiyya . Furthermore, several documents in the Prime Ministry Archives indicate that the mutasarrifiyya govern-


ment itself kept an archive of its own, more systematically after 1883.[8] These records are likely to have been preserved in the Lebanese National Museum in Beirut, together with the minutes of the Administrative Council. Clearly, the Ottoman documents constitute a qualitatively as well as quantitatively rich mine of information on an important period of Lebanese history. My work has not exhausted this mine.




1. Among the more recent works, John P. Spagnolo's France and Ottoman Lebanon, 1861-1914 (London, 1977) remains by far the most important study of the mutasarrifiyya . Antoine A. Khair's Le Moutaçarrifat du Mont-Liban (Beirut, 1973) provides a description of the mutasarrifiyya's institutions. Lahad Khater's 'Ahd al-mutasarrifîn fi Lubnân 1861-1918 (Beirut, 1967) is a helpful manual of the political developments based on contemporary local journals and periodicals. Ahmad Tarabain's Lubnân mundhu 'ahd al-mutasarrifiyya ilâ bidâyat al-intidâb, 1861-1920 (Cairo, 1968) and Asad Rustum's documentary Lubnân fi'ahd al-mutasarrifiyya (Beirut, 1973) cover only the years up to 1883, in spite of their titles. Wajih Kawtharani's al-Ittijâhât al-ijtimâ'iyyat-al-siyâsiyya fi Jabal Lubnân wal-mashriq al-'arabî, 1860-1920 (Beirut, 1976), an account of the unfolding social structure in the area, is particularly useful for early twentieth-century developments. Toufic Touma's Paysans et institutions féodales chez les Druses et les Maronites du Liban du xviie siècle à 1914 (Beirut, 1971-72); Samir Khalaf's Persistence and Change in 19th-Century Lebanon (Beirut, 1979); 'Abdallah al-Mallah's Mutasarrifiyya Jabal Lubnân fi'ahd Muzaffar Bâsha, 1902-1907 (Beirut, 1985); and 'Abdallah Sa'id's Tatawwur al-mulkiyyat al-'iqâriyya fi Jabal Lubnân (Beirut, [1987]) are very useful monographs.

2. Asad Rustum's work mentioned above is a documentary based on these minutes. Khair also makes use of them.

3. See, e.g., al-Mallah's work mentioned above, and 'Isam K. Khalifa's Abhâth fi târîkh Lubnân al-mu'âsir (Beirut, 1985). Apparently the Patriarchate's archives are rich, but not readily available to researchers.

4. Spagnolo is the only scholar who has used Ottoman documents. But these are written in French, from the Ottoman Foreign Ministry Archives,

and constitute a negligible amount of the Ottoman documents on the mutasarrifiyya . See Appendix B for a description of related Ottoman documents.

5. As recent civil war shattered the dream of Lebanon as an outpost of Western civilization, the Westernist paradigm outlined above has lost much of its ideological appeal as well as explanatory power. This is evident in the earnest efforts of Lebanese intellectuals and scholars to develop broader visions of Lebanon, paying far closer attention to its internal and regional realities. The publications of the Centre for Lebanese Studies at Oxford testify to the intellectual quality and breadth of this debate.

6. The literature on this complex issue is too rich to be summarized in a note here, but I will mention a few works to indicate my position on a number of the key concepts used in the following discussion. The "modern era" and "modernization" are to me what Marshall Hodgson calls the ''technicalistic era" and "technicalization" in The Venture of Islam (Chicago, 1974), esp. vol. 3:165-200. I use "nation" as a form of sociopolitical organization or entity that belongs exclusively to the modern era--see, e.g., Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (Oxford, 1983). I hold that "nation" is a sociopolitical entity "only insofar as it relates to a certain kind of modern territorial state, the 'nation-state,' and it is pointless to discuss nation and nationality except insofar as both relate to it," as Eric Hobsbawm puts it in Nations and Nationalism since 1780 (Cambridge, Eng., 1990), 9-10. I take Charles Tilly's taxonomic description of the characteristics of a nation-state in The Formation of National States in Western Europe (Princeton, 1975) as a guideline, esp. 25-83 and 601-638. Gabriel Ben-Dor discusses the relevance of the European experience to the Middle East in State and Conflict in the Middle East (New York, 1983), esp. 1-34 and 228-263.

Although I approach "nation" and "state" as interdependent historical processes, particularly for the early stages of "technicalization"/"modernization," I hold that an analytical distinction must be maintained between the formation of the state in its institutional structures and the formation of the nation as a civic political community. Here, my main source of inspiration is the moralistic and humanistic position taken by Barrington Moore in Social Origins of Democracy and Dictatorship (Boston, 1966). This distinction entails looking at nation-formation as one form of sociopolitical integration in a modern setting. In this, I find Edward Shils's Center and Periphery (Chicago, 1975) and Clifford Geertz's The Interpretation of Cultures (New York, 1973), esp. 193-341, particularly useful, though I am aware that Moore, Shils, and Geertz are not sufficiently sensitive to the international dimension of power politics in new states.

7. This is how I read various articles debating the recent crisis. See Nadim Shehadi and Dana H. Mills, eds., Lebanon: A History of Conflict and Consensus (London, 1988); compare Albert Hourani, Political Soci-

ety in Lebanon; Ghassane Salamé, Lebanon's Injured Identities; and Antoine Messarra, The Challenge of Coexistence , all publications of the Centre for Lebanese Studies (Oxford), among other works.

1 The Road to a Special Regime in Mount Lebanon

1. Iliya Harik, Politics and Change in a Traditional Society: Lebanon, 1711-1845 (Princeton, 1968), 16-17, and Kamal Salibi, A House of Many Mansions: The History of Lebanon Reconsidered (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1988), 64-65.

2. Harvey H. Smith et al., Area Handbook for Lebanon , 2nd ed. (Washington, D.C., 1974), 9-17; Dominique Chevallier, La société du Mont Liban à l'époque de la révolution industrielle en Europe (Paris, 1971), 3-4, 30-31, and plates 1-4; Leon Marfoe, "The Integrative Transformation: Patterns of Sociopolitical Organization in Southern Syria," Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 234(1979): 21-23; and William R. Polk, The Opening of South Lebanon, 1788-1840 (Cambridge, Mass., 1963), 1-9. Also see As'ad AbuKhalil, "The Society and the Environment," in Lebanon: A Country Study , ed. Thomas Collelo (Washington, D.C., 1989), 42-48, and P. Beaumont, G. H. Blake, and J. M. Wagstaff, The Middle East: A Geographical Study , 2nd ed. (New York, 1988), 387-389.

3. The term "Syria" here and throughout the text means geographical Syria, which now covers the sovereign states of Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and parts of southeastern Turkey. During the Ottoman and Mamluk periods, the northern parts of this geographical region centered on the city of Aleppo and the southern parts on Damascus. See Antoine Abdel Nour, Introduction à l'histoire urbaine de la Syrie Ottomane (XVIe-XVIIIe siècle) (Beirut, 1982); on the rivalry of ports, 77, 305-313, 334-341, 352-365. For a description of the two subregions of "Syria," see Engin Akarli, "Spatial Organization in 14th-Century Syria," Bogaziçi University Journal--Humanities 6(1978): 1-25.

4. Salibi, House , 65-68.

5. Abdel Nour, 340-365; Leila T. Fawaz, Merchants and Migrants in 19th-Century Beirut (Cambridge, Mass., 1983), 8-13, 30-31, 127, and "Zahla and Dayr al-Qamar," in Lebanon: A History of Conflict and Consensus , ed. Shehadi and Mills 49-63; and Paul Saba, "The Creation of the Lebanese Economy," in Essays on the Crisis in Lebanon , ed. Roger Owen (London, 1976), 1-5.

6. Chevallier, La société du Mont Liban , 66-79, 150-156; Polk, 69-71, 175-189; and Marfoe, 20-29.

7. Salibi cautions us against uncritical interpretations of this situation, as if "Lebanon" was an island of freedom in a land of oppression; House , 130-150, esp. 148f.

8. On the Maronites, see Salibi, House , 13, 72-92, 113-114; Chevallier, La société , 16-17, 245-256; Harik, Politics and Change , 18-23, 74-166. Compare Matti Moosa, The Maronites in History (Syracuse, N. Y., 1986). For population percentages given here and below, see Table 1 in Chapter 4 of this work. For estimates of earlier periods, see Chevallier, La société , 49-63.

9. On Shiism in general, see Hodgson, The Venture of Islam , vol. 2: 36-39, 445-455, and vol. 3: 33-38. The mutawâlîs adhered to the twelve-imam branch, or main line, of Shiism. One cannot assume, however, that all Shiites were "twelvers" throughout the past. For Lebanese Shiites, see Isma'il Haqqi, ed., Lubnân: mabâhith 'ilmiyya wa ijtimâ'iyya , 2nd ed. (Beirut, 1969-70), 666-677; Albert Hourani, Syria and Lebanon: A Political Essay (London, 1946), 122-123, and "From Jabal 'Amil to Persia," Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 49(1986): 133-140; Salibi, House , 137, 144-145; Beaumont, Blake, and Wagstaff, 389-392; and Helena Cobban, The Making of Modern Lebanon (Boulder, Co., 1985), 19-21.

10. On the Druze in general, see Nejla Abu-Izzeddin, The Druzes: A New Study of Their History, Faith, and Society (Leiden, 1984); Robert Betts, The Druze (New Haven, 1988); Kamal Salibi, The Modern History of Lebanon (New York, 1965), xviii-xxii; Isma'il Haqqi, 677-680; and Kamal Joumblatt, I Speak for Lebanon (London, 1982), esp. 26-39. Also see David Bryer, "The Origins of the Druze Religion," Der Islam 52(1975): 47-84, 239-262, and 53(1976): 5-27.

11. Abdul-Rahim Abu-Husayn, Provincial Leaderships in Syria, 1575-1650 (Beirut, 1985), esp. 67-128; Isma'il Haqqi, 325-340; Halil Inalcik, "Tax Collection, Embezzlement, and Bribery in Ottoman Finances," Bulletin of the Turkish Studies Association 15(1991): 327-346; and Abu-Izzeddin, 179-191. Also see T. Gökbilgin's and S. Tekindag's separate contributions under "Durûz" in Encyclopaedia of Islam , new ed. ("Dürziler" in Islâm[Idot;slâm] Ansiklopedisi ); and Salibi, House , 123-128.

12. On the precariousness of Fakhr al-Din's alliances, see Abu-Husayn, 92-93; on the Ma'ns' position in central cantons, see Salibi, Modern History , 5. An oft-quoted witness of peaceful sectarian relations is Constantin-François Volney, Travels through Syria and Egypt in the Years 1783, 1784, and 1785 , 2nd ed. (London, 1788); see, e.g., vol. 1:299-300, and vol. 2:74-81. But compare note 7 above.

13. Timothy Ware, The Orthodox Church (London, 1964), 102-110; Robert M. Haddad, "On Melkite Passage to the Unia (1672-1720)," and Thomas Philipp, "Image and Self-Image of the Syrians in Egypt," both in Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Empire , ed. Benjamin Braude and Bernard Lewis (New York and London, 1982), vol. 2:67-90 and 167-184, respectively; Albert Hourani, The Emergence of the Modern Middle East (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1981), 103-123, esp. 103-108; Salibi, House ,

43, 137-138; and Roderic Davison, Reform in the Ottoman Empire, 1856-1876 (Princeton, 1963), 119, note 17.

14. Abdel Nour, 308, 310, 350-351, and Robert Haddad, "On Melkite Passage," 67-90.

15. Fawaz, Merchants , 50-51.

16. Hourani, Emergence , 1-18 (cf. 43-44).

17. On the Greek Orthodox Church in the Ottoman Empire, see Halil Inalcik, "The Status of the Greek Orthodox Patriarch under the Ottomans," Turcica 21-23 (1991): 407-436; Timothy Ware, The Orthodox Church , 96-112, and Eustratios Argenti: A Study of the Greek Church under Turkish Rule (Oxford, 1964); and Kemal H. Karpat, An Inquiry into the Social Foundations of Nationalism in the Ottoman State (Princeton, 1973). Also see Karpat, "Millets and Nationality," and Richard Clogg, "The Greek Millet in the Ottoman Empire," in Braude and Lewis, vol. 1: 141-170 and 185-208, respectively. Compare Robert Haddad, Syrian Christians in Muslim Society (Princeton, 1970). On the Greek Orthodox migration to the Mountain, see Salibi, House , 138. On the East-West 'dichotomy' in the context of Lebanese history, see Chapter 8 in this work and compare Sandra Mackey, Lebanon: The Death of a Nation (New York and Chicago, 1989).

18. Chevallier, La société , 58, and Polk, Opening , 126. Also see Ahmed Cevdet Pasa, Târîh-i Cevdet (Istanbul, 1288-1303 [1871-1886]), vol. 3:14-20, 35-37.

19. From the vantage point of the elitist-urban Ottoman-Arab culture, the titles assumed by the Mountain's notables would appear pretentious. Besides, they appear to have acquired this importance in retrospect, partly under the influence of the works of nineteenth-century local historians. For Salibi's criticism of these works, under the heading "The Imagined Principality," see House , 108-129. The challenge is to understand the mountaineers' self-perception without losing sight of the broader environment in which they lived.

The following account of the political events and relationships under the amirate is based on: Abu-Izzeddin, 189-215; Polk, 10-82; Salibi, Modern History , 3-17; Harik, Politics and Change , 32-73; Chevallier, La société , 80-89; Isma'il Haqqi, 161-165, 340-350; and other works mentioned below. For a general framework, see Hourani, Emergence , 124-148, and his Political Society in Lebanon (London, [1985]).

20. Abu-Izzeddin, 202, and Abu-Husayn, 126-127.

21. For an evaluation of the power-magnate networks that prevailed in the area in general during this period, see Engin Akarli, "Provincial Power Magnates in Ottoman Bilad al-Sham and Egypt, 1740-1840," in La vie sociale dans les provinces Arabes à l'époque Ottomane , ed. Abdeljelil Temimi (Zaghouan, Tunisia, 1988), vol. 3:41-56. The position of the muqâta'ajis and the muqâta'a system as it applied in Mount Lebanon are

hotly debated issues. For a review of major positions and works, see Alexander Schölch, "Was There A Feudal System in Ottoman Lebanon and Palestine?" in Palestine in the Late Ottoman Period , ed. David Kushner (Jerusalem and Leiden, 1986), 130-145; for major works, see 144, note 22.

22. See Marfoe, 27-29, and Polk, 50-71, esp. 71.

23. E.g., compare the table of major families in Chevallier, La société , 63. We see the formation of similar relationships even in villages founded at later dates; see, e.g., on a Greek Orthodox village, Afif I. Tannous, "Social Change in an Arab Village," in Readings in Arab Middle Eastern Societies and Cultures , ed. A. M. Lutfiyya, and C. W. Churchill (The Hague, 1970), 288-289.

24. Polk, 130-131, and Abu-Izzeddin, 206-207.

25. Abu-Izzeddin, 209-210.

26. Harik, Politics and Change , 81-85.

27. See, e.g., Chevallier, La société , 63, 88; Harik, Politics and Change , 42, 211-212; and Touma, 751-753.

28. Harik, Politics and Change , 65-71, and Chevallier, La société , 146-148. Compare maps of the amirate published by different authors: Salibi, Modern History , 218-219; Abu-Husayn, 108; Polk, 54; Chevallier, La société , plates 6-7; and Axel Havemann, Rurale Bewegungen im Libanongebirge des 19. Jahrhunderts (Berlin, 1983), 406.

29. On succession problems, sources of legitimate authority, and dyadic relationships, see Harik, Politics and Change , 38, 54-61. A family could shift sides, and factions within a family might support different camps. Compare this with similar relationships in nearby Nablus in northern Palestine: Miriam Hoexter, "The Role of the Qays and Yaman Factions in Local Political Divisions," Asian and African Studies 9(1973): 249-311.

30. Harik, Politics and Change , 41, 168-169, 198, 279, passim.

31. For a general assessment, see Saba, 1-4; compare the works mentioned in note 32 below. In most works on eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century "Syria," the emphasis is on trade with Europe. There can be little doubt, however, that Syria's trade with other parts of the Ottoman Empire, including Egypt, was more important until the 1840s. See Roger Owen, The Middle East in the World Economy, 1800-1914 (London, 1981), 52-53.

32. Dominique Chevallier, "Les cadres sociaux de l'économie agraire dans le Proche-Orient au début du xixe siècle: le cas du Mont Liban," in Studies in the Economic History of the Middle East , ed. M. A. Cook (London, 1970), 333-334; and I. M. Smilianskaya, "The Disintegration of Feudal Relations in Syria and Lebanon in the Middle of the 19th Century," in The Economic History of the Middle East, 1800-1914 , ed. Charles Issawi (Chicago, 1966), 228, note 3.

33. On Akka's rise, see Abdel Nour, 77, 351, 363-365. On the rivalry between the ports of "Syria," see Akarli, "Provincial Power Magnates." For Zahir al-'Umar in general, see Abdul-Karim Rafeq, The Province of Damascus, 1723-1783 (Beirut, 1966), and al-'Arab wal-'uthmâniyûn, 1516-1916 (Damascus, 1974), 231-313, passim; and Amnon Cohen, Palestine in the 18th Century (Jerusalem, 1973), passim.

34. On Cezzar, see Rafeq, al-'Arab , 310-318, 385ff.; Cohen, passim; Linda S. Schilcher, Families in Politics (Wiesbaden, 1985), 36-40; Abdul L. Tibawi, A Modern History of Syria (Edinburgh, 1969), 19-39, and Cevdet Pasa, Târîh , vol. 3:46-61 and vol. 7:94f., 117f., 353f.

35. Chevallier, "Les cadres," 333-334; and Caesar E. Farah, "The Problem of the Ottoman Administration in Lebanon, 1840-1861" (Ph.D. diss., Princeton University, 1958), 21-44.

36. Chevallier, La société , 98-99; Harik, Politics and Change , 41-42; Polk, 19, and Isma'il Haqqi, 348-349.

37. On Bashir Shihab and his relations with Bashir Junblat, see Polk, 14-31; Harik, Politics and Change , 167-199; Chevallier, La société , 90-105; Salibi, Modern History , 18-39; Abu-Izzeddin, 211-215; and Farah, "Problem," 20-30.

38. Harik, Politics and Change , 222-223; and Isma'il Haqqi, 346-347.

39. On the peasant resistance in 1820-21 and the role of the clergy in it, see Harik, Politics and Change , 200-222, and Havemann, 95-123.

40. Abu-Izzeddin, 214-215; Harik, Politics and Change , 222-228; Polk, 21-31; and Chevallier, La société , 102-104. On the struggle between the coastal and inland magnates, see Akarli, "Provincial Power Magnates."

41. Pasha is a title that replaced beylerbeyi or amîr ul-umarâ , i.e., the military governor of a province. Fakhr al-Din appears to have acquired the latter status by 1627 (Abu-Husayn, 110). In any case, by virtue of controlling the entire coast from Gaza to Tripoli, he would have been ranked next only to the governors of Aleppo and Damascus in the Ottoman military-administrative hierarchy. (Pasha eventually became a title given also to senior civilian bureaucrats, whether ministers or governors.)

42. For the cooperation between the Church and the amir, see Harik, Politics and Change , 127-139, 205-206, 229-245.

43. See Ahmed Lutfi, Târîh-i Lutfî (Istanbul, 1300 [1884-85]), vol. 4:31, 37-40; Afaf L. Marsot, Egypt in the Reign of Muhammad Ali (Cambridge, Eng., 1984), 196ff.; Polk, 26; and Asad Rustum, Bashîr bain al-sultân wal-'azîz, 1804-1841 (Beirut, 1966), 45-96, 185-224. On Mehmed Ali's economic concerns and Egypt's intensive trade relations with "Syria," see Farah, "Problem," 25-30.

44. Akarli, "Provincial Power Magnates," 50-56; Lûtfi, vol. 4:42-47; Polk, 95-105, 195-196. Compare Sinasi Altindag, "Kavalali Mehmet Ali

Pasa'nin Suriye'de Tatbik Ettigi Idare Tarzi," Belleten 8(1944): 231-244. On the trade conventions, see Mübahat Kütükoglu, Osmanli-Ingiliz Iktisâdî Münâsebetleri , vol. 1, 1580-1838 (Ankara, 1974), 81-125; and Frank E. Bailey, British Policy and the Turkish Reform Movement (Cambridge, Mass., 1942), 121-128, 147-170. On Beirut's rapid rise, see Fawaz, Merchants; and Michael Johnson, Class and Client in Beirut (London, 1986), 11-44.

45. Polk, 97-104, 136-137, 190-191.

46. Caesar Farah, "The Lebanese Insurgence of 1840 and the Powers," Journal of Asian History 1(1967): 105-132; Salibi, Modern History , 38-44; and Rustum, Bashîr , 169-184.

47. Harik, Politics and Change , 152-159, 213-214, 238-239, 250-257; and Richard van Leeuwen, "Monastic Estates and Agricultural Transformation in Mount Lebanon in the 18th Century," IJMES 23(1991): 601-617.

48. Harik, Politics and Change , 127-152, 254-266, 290-293.

49. Polk, 217-219.

50. Here I read the evidence available to me (esp. Chevallier, La société , 131-149, and Polk, passim) with an Ottomanist's eye. The relevant literature in this context is the debate on the çiftlik/mazra'a and Mâlikâne-muqâta'a (see Akarli, "Provincial Power Magnates," 42, note 4, and 49, note 15). Many historians make generalizations about Lebanon in the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries on the basis of data from the mid-nineteenth and twentieth centuries, when land had become a commodity or near-commodity. Such retrospective constructions need to be done in comparison with the better-documented neighboring areas. Van Leeuwen's article on the Maronite awqâf in the eighteenth century abounds with indications that Mount Lebanon was less different from its surrounding area than we normally assume. On the concept of multiple ownerships, see Engin Akarli, " Gedik ," in Wissenschaftskolleg Jahrbuch 1985/86 (Berlin, 1987), 223-232. On the effects of commercialization, see Saba, "The Creation of the Lebanese Economy."

51. Saba, 1-13; Salibi, Modern History , 47; Chevallier, La société , 166-167, 177-179 (cf. 157-165); Polk, 217-219; M. T. Gökbilgin, "1840'dan 1861'e kadar Cebel-i Lübnan Meselesi ve Dürziler," Belleten 10(1946): 641-650; and Farah, "Problem," 110-130.

52. Gökbilgin, "1840'dan 1861'e," 650-675; Farah, "Problem," 130-200; Baron I. de Testa, ed., Recueil des traités de la porte Ottomane avec les puissances étrangères (Paris, 1864-1911), vol. 3:86-179. Compare Salibi, Modern History , 53-71.

53. On the Sekib Efendi regulations, see GG 1013:9-23; Lutfi, vol. 8:64ff., 407ff.; Muhammad A. Tarhini, al-Usas al-târîkhiyya li-nizâm Lubnân al-tâifî (Beirut, 1981), which compares these regulations to the mutasarrifiyya regulations; and de Testa, vol. 3:179-225, esp. 200-207.

54. On these events, see Gökbilgin, "1840'dan 1861'e," 675-682, and Farah, "Problem," 200-207 and passim, who make use of Ottoman sources. Also see Salibi, Modern History , 70-79, and Harik, Politics and Change , 272-277. Compare Charles H. Churchill, The Druzes and the Maronites under the Turkish Rule from 1840 to 1860 (reprint of 1862 ed., New York, 1973); and Antoine J. Abraham, Lebanon at Mid-Century: Maronite-Druze Relations in Lebanon, 1840-1860 (Washington, D.C., 1981), 81-116.

55. Chevallier, La société , 178-179.

56. Dominique Chevallier, "Aux origines des troubles agraires Libanais en 1858," Annales 14(1959): 44-51; Yehoshua Porath, "The Peasant Revolt of 1858-1861 in Kisrawan," Asian and African Studies 2(1966): 77-157; Marwan Buheiry, "The Peasant Revolt of 1858 in Mount Lebanon," in Land Tenure and Social Transformation in the Middle East , ed. Tarif Khalidi (Beirut, 1984), 291-302; Malcolm H. Kerr, ed., Lebanon in the Last Years of Feudalism, 1840-1868 (Beirut, 1959), 19-26, 95-150; Salibi, Modern History , 80-87; and Havemann, 189-261.

57. Salibi, Modern History , 88-98; Farah, "Problem," 231, 236-237.

58. For various assessments see, e.g., Edouard Engelhardt, La Turquie et le Tanzimat ou histoire des réformes dans l'Empire Ottoman depuis 1826 jusqu'à nos jours (Paris, 1882-84), vol. 1:141ff.; Kamal Salibi, "The 1860 Upheaval in Damascus," in The Beginnings of Modernization in the Middle East , ed. W. Polk and R. Chambers (Chicago, 1968), 185-202; Farah, "Problem," 235-289; and Salibi, Modern History , 88-105.

59. A. Haluk "Uuml;lman, 1860-1861 Suriye Buhrani (Ankara, 1966), 33-36; Farah, "Problem," 235-289; Salibi, Modern History , 88-105.

60. Ülman, Suriye Buhrani , 39-81; Farah, "Problem," 291-346; Gökbilgin, "1840'dan 1861'e," 689-693. On the imperial decree concerning Fuad's mission, see MMD no. 10, pp. 23-24.

61. Farah, "Problem," 349-397; Ülman, Suriye Buhrani , 97-121; and John P. Spagnolo, France and Ottoman Lebanon , 29-52. For a summary of the minutes of the meetings, see de Testa, 105-406. On changes in administrative divisions in the area, see 'Abd al-'Aziz 'Awad, al-Idârat al-'uthmâniyya fi wilâya Sûriyya, 1864-1914 (Cairo, 1969), 61-81.

62. In addition to the grand vizier's immediate staff, the Sublime Porte housed the state archives, a number of advisory bodies which eventually formed the State Council, and the headquarters of the Interior and Foreign ministries. The Cabinet met at the Porte, unless the sultan ordered a meeting at his palace. In theory, supreme authority belonged to the sultan. He appointed the grand vizier and other senior officials, and his approval (decree) was necessary for the enactment of laws and the implementation of major policy decisions. Under a powerful sultan, the Palace could overshadow the Porte in policy-making. This was the case during most of Abdulhamid II's reign (1876-1909). Even then, however, the Porte

continued to function as the headquarters of the Ottoman government. On the development of the Porte and its relations with the Palace, see Carter V. Findley, Bureaucratic Reform in the Ottoman Empire: The Sublime Porte, 1789-1922 (Princeton, 1980), and Ottoman Civil Officialdom: A Social History (Princeton, 1989); Enver Z. Karal, Osmanli Tarihi , vols. 5-8 (Ankara, 1954-1962), passim; Davison, Reform , 16, 32-36, and passim; and Engin Akarli, "Friction and Discord within the Ottoman Government under Abdulhamid II," Bogaziçi University Journal--Humanities 7(1979): 3-26.

63. For the texts of the Règlement and the protocols, see Gabriel Noradounghian, ed., Recueil d'actes internationaux de l'Empire Ottoman (Paris, 1897-1902), vol. 3:144-150, 223-228; and for these texts as well as other related documents, see CL 1013, pp. 23-35. For an analysis of the Règlement as a legal text and a critical edition of it with all the amendments until 1912, see Engin Akarli, "Cebel-i Lübnan'da Mutasarriflik Düzeni, 1861-1915" (docentship thesis, Bosphorus University, Istanbul, 1981), 41-50, 198-201, 240-250. Also see Spagnolo, France and Ottoman Lebanon , 45-46, 81-96. The official Ottoman-Turkish version of the 1864 Règlement is available in Düstûr , 1st series (Istanbul, 1289-1335 [1872-1943] and 1937-1943, vol. 4:695-701). The official Arabic translations of the 1861 and 1864 versions of the Règlement are available in Rustum, Lubnân , 35-39 and 55-61, respectively.

2 Ottoman Policy and Power Relations in Mount Lebanon, 1861–1892

1. GG 1013: p. 15 (1850).

2. GG 1013: p. 23. The same points were emphasized also in the preface to the 1864 version of the Règlement: GG 1013: p. 30; and Düstûr , 1st series, vol. 4: 695.

3. On the continuities and new directions in Ottoman political culture in the earlier years of the period emphasized in this work, see Serif Mardin, The Genesis of Young Ottoman Thought (Princeton, 1962); and Davison, Reform . On Abdulhamid II's period (1876-1909) and the second Constitutional period (1908-1918), see the following, all by Engin Akarli: "The Problems of External Pressures, Power Struggles, and Budgetary Deficits in Ottoman Politics under Abdulhamid II" (Ph.D. diss., Princeton University, 1976); "Friction"; "Abdulhamid II's Attempt to Integrate Arabs into the Ottoman System," in Palestine in the Late Ottoman Period , ed. David Kushner (Jerusalem, 1986); and Ottoman Documents on Jordan (Amman, 1989). Also see Serif Mardin, Continuity and Change in the Ideas of the Young Turks (Ankara, 1969), and Jön Türklerin Siyasi Fikirleri, 1895-1908 , 2nd ed. (Istanbul, 1983).

4. GG 1013: p. 29, Z 1277, on Davud; pp. 49-50, 19 S 1285, on

Franko; pp. 63-64, 21 Z 1289, on Rüstem; pp. 86-87, 10 B 1300, on Vasa; pp. 110-111, 26 M 1310, on Naum; and pp. 160-161, 26 Haz. 1323, on Yusuf Franko. In the decrees dispatched to the Administrative Council requesting it to assume the responsibilities of the governor during the interregna that resulted from the deaths of Franko and Vasa Pashas in 1873 and 1892, respectively, the emphasis was again put on maintaining the hard-won public order and peace in Mount Lebanon: see GG 1013: p. 60, 7 Za 1289; p. 89, 19 Haz. 1308; and pp. 97-98, 25 Tem. 1308.

5. See Khater, 27, 38, 49-52, 140, 152-154, 162-164, and 192; and al-Mallah, 80-92.

6. See, e.g., Hourani, Emergence , 1-18.

7. The numerous petitions presented to the Porte by the Lebanese make amply clear that this is how the Lebanese interpreted the Ottoman position. These petitions are discussed below in this and following chapters.

8. Gökbilgin, "1840'dan 1861'e," 690-703. On the ceremony, see Spagnolo, France , 46 and 52 n. 38; compare the next note.

9. GG 1013: pp. 41-42, 7 S 1278 (Aug. 1861).

10. Rustum, Lubnân , 83-84; and Spagnolo, France , 82 and 94 n. 4.

11. GG 1014: 10 B 1284 (Nov. 1867); GG 1013: p. 47, 24 Sh 1284 (Dec. 1867); and Rustum, Lubnân , 128-129.

12. GG 1013: p. 42, 22 Ra 1278 (Nov. 1861); HA 256/1 (Dec. 1863); GG 1014: 14 S 1284 (June 1867); and Spagnolo, France , 82 and 94 n. 4.

13. GG 1014: 11 M 1284 (May 1867); 15 R 1285 (Aug. 1868); and GG 1013: p. 53, 23 Ca 1286 (Sept. 1869). Also see Spagnolo, France , 112.

14. On the events revolving around Yusuf Karam, see Spagnolo, France , 58-65 and 100-111; Rustum, Lubnân , 50-53 and 62-80; Tarabain, 36-77 and 155-215. Also see Tarhini, 210, 222-234, and 240; and Kerr, 26-31.

15. GG 1013: p. 37, 29 C 1281 (Nov. 1864).

16. GG 1013: p. 38, 16 N 1281 (Feb. 1865): letters from the Porte to Davud Pasha and to the commander of regular troops put under Davud's orders.

17. See GG 1014: 1 Sh and 12 L 1294 (Aug.-Oct. 1877): letters from the Porte to Mount Lebanon and to the Finance Ministry announcing the decision to discontinue the stipend of 5,000 piasters paid to Yusuf Karam "because his writings make clear that he still nourishes certain hopes and is not remorseful." The decision, based on an investigation of his writings by the State Council, was issued in the form of an imperial decree. On Karam's writings, see Spagnolo, France , 123 n. 39; on his activities in exile, see Tarabain, passim.

18. On the Concert of Europe and its effects on Ottoman affairs, see Gordon Craig, Europe since 1815 , 2nd ed. (New York, 1966); Akarli, "Problems," 10-23, 225-228, and Spagnolo, "Franco-British Rivalry in

the Middle East and Its Operation in the Lebanese Problem,'' in Lebanon: A History of Conflict and Consensus , ed. Shehadi and Mills (London, 1988), 109ff.

19. Spagnolo, France , 114 and 119; Tarabain, 216-222; and documents mentioned in notes 20 and 21 below.

20. GG 1013: pp. 46-47, 10 B, and 24 Sh 1284 (Nov.-Dec. 1867); the quotation is from the latter document. Judging by Tarabain's account based on French documents (pp. 218-221), Davud informed the French Consulate in Beirut of his correspondence with the Porte.

21. GG 1013: pp. 47-48, 25 L 1284 (Feb. 1868): letter from the Porte to Mount Lebanon in response to Davud's letter of 27 N 1284 (Jan. 1868), which is quoted in the Porte's letter.

22. This aspect of Davud's attitude is stressed in Spagnolo's account ( France , 113-119).

23. GG 1013: pp. 35-36, 23 Z 1284 (Apr. 1868); and Rustum, Lubnân , 85-86. For biographies of Davud, Franko Kusa, and other governors of Mount Lebanon, see Appendix A.

24. GG 1013: pp. 48-50, 19 S, and 6 and 7 Ca 1285 (June-Aug. 1868). Also see IRADE-Dahiliye 40129, 13 S 1285 (June 1868), and HA 35/5: documents from May-June 1868. For details, see Spagnolo, France , 117-118, and Akarli, "Cebel-i Lübnan," 45-46.

25. On Franko's relations with the Porte and Rasid Pasha, see Spagnolo, France , 128-132; GG 1013: pp. 50-77; and GG 1014: passim. On the financial support provided to Mount Lebanon during this period, see GG 1013: pp. 55, 58, 76-77; GG 1014: 23 R and 26 C 1286, 13 R 1287, and 26 Sh and 27 L 1288; and YEE: 18/527/13/31 (II-b), 17 N 1288. On Franko's relations with the consuls, see HA 35/5, esp. Jan. 1870, and compare Spagnolo, France , 129ff.

26. Asad Rustum ( Lubnân , 153-154 and 172-175), who is hardly sympathetic to Rüstem, acknowledges the pasha's merits. For a similar view, see Philip Hitti, Lebanon in History (London, 1957), 445-446.

27. Spagnolo, France , 130-138.

28. See Khater, 51-52, on Rüstem Pasha's address to the Lebanese; and Spagnolo, France , 138-139.

29. Khater, 47-65.

30. See Akarli, "Problems," 23-40 and 229-232; and Davison, 270-357.

31. GG 1014: 27 M 1294 (Feb. 1877), from the Porte to Rüstem, on the basis of decisions reached by a special committee of leading Ottoman statesmen.

32. GG 1014: 8 R 1294 (April 1877) summarizes previous correspondence on the precautions taken.

33. On the conflict between Rüstem and the Maronite Church, see Khater, 66-137, and the sources mentioned in notes 34-40 below.

34. Spagnolo, France , 150-174, esp. 158 and 164-165. Compare his "Franco-British Rivalry," 111-114; Tarabain, 301-360, esp. 339-356; Rüstem Pasha's letter to Elridge (6 Feb. 1881) in PRO-F.O. 78, no. 3314, and Ahmed Hamdi Pasha's report mentioned in note 39 below.

35. Spagnolo, France , 165-166.

36. YEE: 18/417/3/40, göm. 5, 9 M 1300 (Nov. 1882), from Hamdi Pasha to the Porte.

37. See Chapters 4-6 below on these issues.

38. To illustrate his point, Hamdi referred to the case of Khalil Abi-l-Lama' mentioned in one of the petitions. Khalil had raped and poisoned a servant of his household and was ultimately convicted for his crime, yet some people "dared criticize his conviction, instead of being thankful for the due punishment of such a savage act."

39. YEE: 18/417/3/40, göm. 5, M 1300 (Nov. 1882), from Hamdi to the Porte, follow-up of report mentioned in note 36.

40. YEE: 18/515/127/44, 6 Ra 1300 (Jan. 1883), from Rüstem to Safvet, the foreign minister. In this long letter, Rüstem discusses the background of the petition campaign and criticizes the French consul in Beirut as a particularly "fanatic" person who missed the delicacy of the sectarian balance and conflicts in Mount Lebanon.

41. For details concerning Vasa's appointment, see GG 1013: pp. 80-86, correspondence between the Palace, the Porte, and the Foreign Ministry; and PRO-F.O. 78, no. 3612. Also see Akarli, "Cebel-i Lübnan," 46-47, and 206, note 39; and Spagnolo, France , 168-169.

42. Spagnolo, France , 176. Compare Ahmed Hamdi Pasha's letter mentioned in note 44 below.

43. See Vasa's letters to the Porte in YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, p. 1, 26 Za 1300 (Sept. 1883), and defter 1, p. 6, 11 S 1301 (Dec. 1883).

44. See Ahmed Hamdi's letter to the Porte reporting his conversations with Vasa: YEE: 18/417/3/40, göm. 7, 25 R 1301 (Feb. 1884). (Also YEE: 30/2198/51/78). Ahmed Hamdi wrote this letter when the Porte asked him to assess the situation in the Mountain, following a series of complaints spearheaded by Mustafa Arslan and accusing Vasa of having become a tool of French interests. For a sampler of Mustafa Arslan's complaints, see YEE: 18/417/3/40, göm. 7, 15 Za 1300 (Sept. 1883).

45. On Ahmed Hamdi, see Ibnülemin Inal, Osmanli Devrinde Son Sadriâzamlar (Istanbul, 1940-53), 636-650. On Vasa's respect for him, see, e.g., YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 10, 21 Z 1302 (Oct. 1885); p. 13, 26 N 1303 (June 1886), and esp. pp. 36-38, 17 Za 1304 (Aug. 1887). Hamdi Pasha died in 1885, but Vasa always remembered him with reverence.

46. For intelligence reports, see YEE: 35/429/122/104, göm. 1, no. 3, 29 Te.s. 1300 (Dec. 1884); also see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 10, 21 Z 1302 (Oct. 1885). The military plans referred to here were evidently

based on those prepared by de Torcy, the French military attaché dispatched to the area in 1880; see Spagnolo, France , 163ff. On the news about petitions, see YEE: 35/429/122/104, göm. 1, no. 2, 29 Te.s. 1300 (Dec. 1884), and the documents mentioned in notes 47 and 49 below.

47. YEE: 35/429/122/104, göm. 1, nos. 4/1 and 4/2, 20 Ra 1302 (Jan. 1885) and 20 Te.s. 1300 (Dec. 1884).

48. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 5-7, 10 R 1302 (Jan. 1885). Early in his governorship, Vasa frequently criticized his predecessor along the lines outlined here. See his letters in YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 1-2, 7 L 1300; pp. 6-7, 11 S 1301; pp. 10-11, 23 M 1303; p. 23, 11 B 1304, and pp. 41-42, 12 S 1305 (Aug. 1883-Oct. 1887); and defter 2, pp. 5-7, 10 R 1302, and pp. 9-10, 7 Sh 1301 (June 1884-Jan. 1885). Compare YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 119, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884). The tone of his criticism gradually softened, and by the end of 1887 Vasa had become virtually apologetic for his earlier criticism, having a clearer appreciation of the problems encountered by Rüstem.

49. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 4-7, 4 Ra-10 R 1302 (Dec. 1884-Jan. 1885): four letters from Vasa to the Interior Ministry on the issue. The letter of denouncement appeared in the Beirut daily al-Mishâh .

50. Vasa was an avid correspondent. There are many letters in his voluminous correspondence with Istanbul which express and elaborate on the type of government and society he hopes to help build in Mount Lebanon. In addition to the letters mentioned in note 48 above, see, e.g., YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 7-8, 12-13, 15-16, 35-36, 46, 69-70, 51-52, and 55-56, 26 S 1307-7 R 1306 (Dec. 1883-Dec. 1888); defter 2, pp. 1-2, 8, 14-18, and 33, 11 S 1301-12 Z 1305 (Dec. 1883-Aug. 1888); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 122, 130, and 132 (March 1888-Dec. 1891). Vasa was convinced that during his governorship important developments moved Mount Lebanon toward a better government and a more modern society.

51. Aside from Vasa's own letters, see Ahmed Hamdi's comments about him quoted above.

52. This trend in Vasa's opinion of the French intentions is clearly observable in his correspondence with the Porte, the bulk of which is preserved in YEE: 35/439/122/105, defters 1 and 2, and YEE: 35/429/122/104.

53. YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 38, 20 B 1304 (Apr. 1887), from Kâmil to Vasa; and no. 58, 2 Aug. 1887, from Said to Vasa.

54. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 27-29, 10 S 1305 (Oct. 1887): Vasa's response to Cevdet's letter of 2 S 1305.

55. For a detailed treatment of this development, see Akarli "Abdulhamid II's Attempt to Integrate Arabs," 74-89.

56. On the personalities of the two governors, see Khater, 54-55, 59-60, 65-66, 140-143, and 148-150; Spagnolo, France , 170-171, 182-183, and 188-189; and Ahmed Hamdi Pasha's assessments mentioned above.

57. See YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 1-2, 7 L 1300 (Aug. 1883), and defter 2, pp. 5-7, 10 R 1302 (Jan. 1885).

58. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 12, 12 N 1303 (June 1886).

59. Same file, defter 1, pp. 12, 30-31, 40-41, 49, 51-52, and 57-58, 12 N 1303, 22 N 1304, 27 M 1305, 18 N 1305, 12-26 Z 1305 and 6 Ca 1306 (June 1886-Jan. 1889); and defter 2, pp. 30, 33, and 35, 25 R 1305, 12-26 Z 1305, and 6 Ca 1306 (Jan. 1888-Jan. 1889). In a letter dated 8 N 1304 (May 1887) (in defter 1, pp. 29-30), Vasa clearly states that he had "his spies among the bishops." Also see YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 93, 16 Shu. 1307 (Feb. 1892). On Vasa's role in patriarchal elections, see YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 96, 110, and 122; and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 70-76, and defter 2, pp. 37-39, N-Za 1307 (Apr.-July 1890); and Spagnolo, France , 186-187. For more information on relations between the government and the Church, see Chapter 8 below.

60. For Vasa's observations on the support which the French gave the Church against papal investigations, see YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 27, 30/2 and 24, Te.s.-Ka.e. 1302 (Nov.-Dec. 1886); YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 61, 1 Za 1306 (June 1889), and defter 2, p. 30, 25 R 1305 (Jan. 1888). Vasa's complaints about French protection of the affiliates of certain bishops became especially acute in May-Sept. 1887, due to the pressures put on Vasa to free four such people who had been put on trial and sentenced to imprisonment for their leading role in demonstrations that "endangered public peace." Much of the correspondence in YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 25-40, and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 42-69 (Sh 1304-M 1305) covers this issue, which is discussed in detail in Chapter 8.

For Vasa's observations on the financial support offered to the Church by the French government, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 12, 47-48, and 76, 12 N 1303, 5-19 Sh 1305, 14 Za 1307 (June 1886-July 1890); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 132, 10 Ca 1309 (Dec. 1891). On the pressure put on the bishops by the French consul general, see, e.g., YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 5 and 12, 8 Sh and 12 N 1303 (1886). Other evidence makes it clear that Vasa's observations were not inaccurate: see, e.g., The British Consul Elridge's report in PRO-F.O. 78, no. 4011, 7 April 1887; Spagnolo, France , 155-161, 186-187; Khater, 66-137; and Hüseyin Riza Pasha's report from Beirut in YEE: 14/244/126/7, 8 Sh 1305 (April 1888). Also see Chapter 8 below.

61. Vasa touched upon this issue in many of his letters. See, e.g., YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 49-50, 52, and 78-80, 29 L 1305 (July 1888), 26 Z 1305 (Sept. 1888), and 21 Sh 1308 (April 1891); defter 2, pp. 27-29, 33, and 41, 15 Te.e. 1303 (Oct. 1887), 29 L 1305 and 22 Shu. 1303 (March 1888), and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 132, 10 Ca 1309 (Dec. 1891).

62. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 1-2, 6, 10-11, 16, and 48, 7 L 1300 (Aug. 1883), 11 S 1301 (Dec. 1883), 23 M 1305 (Oct. 1885), 7 Z 1303 (Sept. 1886), and 5 Sh 1305 (April 1888); defter 2, pp. 5-6, 26 R

1301 (Feb. 1884); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 119, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884).

63. See Chapter 4 (pp. 88-91) below on this issue.

64. See Chapters 7 and 8 on this issue.

65. See YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 5-6 and 9, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884), and 7 Sh 1301 (June 1884), and defter 1, pp. 13-15, 9 Za 1303 (Aug. 1886). For more information, see Chapter 6 below.

66. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 1-2, 47-48, and 50, 7 L 1300 (Aug. 1883), 21 B 1305 (April 1888), and 29 L 1305 (July 1888); and defter 2, pp. 10-11, and 14, 4 N 1301 (June 1884), 4 Sh 1302 (May 1885); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 75, 30 B 1305 (April 1888). Also see Hüseyin Riza Pasha's observations in YEE: 14/244/126/7.

67. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 13, 26 N 1303 (June 1886); also see p. 46, 10 Ca 1305 (Jan. 1888).

68. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 49-50, 29 L 1305 (July 1888); also see defter 1, pp. 13, 15-16 and 46, 26 N 1303 (June 1886), 24 Za 1303 (Aug. 1886), 10 Ca 1305 (Jan. 1888), and GG 1016: 9 and 11 L 1303 (July 1886).

69. Spagnolo, France , 178-179. Spagnolo refers to the Beirut-Tripoli road, but the project in question here was the Antilias-Jubail segment of that long-term project. The Beirut-Antilias section had already been built during Rüstem's time. See Vasa's letters mentioned in the previous note.

70. See Isma'il Haqqi, 603, and Vital Cuinet, Syrie, Liban, et Palestine (Paris, 1896), 225-227. The Antilias-Jubail road was 50 kilometers long, with three big and several small bridges on it (see Vasa's letters mentioned in note 68). On the financing of road construction projects, see Chapter 5 below; Cuinet, 225-227; and Isma'il Haqqi, 602-607.

71. In addition to the letters of Kâmil, Said, and Cevdet pashes mentioned in notes 53 and 54, see the letters from the Porte to Vasa and their appendices, which include or summarize the petitions of complaint: YEE: 35/429/122/104, göm. 5, nos. 45, 50/1, 50/2, 53/1, 53/3, 54/1, 54/2, 55, 56, 56/1, 59, 60/1, and 60/2, N-Za 1304 (June-Aug. 1887); also see in the same file, nos. 70, 71/1, and 71/2, S 1305 (Oct. 1887), and 11 Ra 1305 (Nov. 1887), letters from Damascus to Vasa. On Elridge, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 39, from Vasa to the Porte, 29 Z 1304 (Sept. 1887), and the relevant correspondence mentioned in note 73 below. On the Porte's orders about Kupelyan, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 41-42, 12 S 1305. The Porte's concerns and instructions about Kupelyan are summarized in YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 41-42, 12 S 1305 (Oct. 1887), and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 72, 24 S 1305 (Nov. 1887).

72. See, e.g., YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 27-29, from Vasa to Cevdet, 10 S 1305 (Oct. 1887), and defter 1, pp. 44-47, several letters from Vasa to the Porte, 27 Ra-20 B 1305 (Dec. 1887-April 1888).

73. Same file, defter 1, pp. 69-70, from Vasa to the Porte, 20 B 1305

(April 1888), and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 120, from Vasa to Cevdet, 22 Sh 1303 (March 1888). Vasa also claimed that Elridge was given to drinking, and an ailing man who hardly left his house and relied on information supplied him by aides, and that his opinion on the situation in the Mountain was therefore quite unreliable.

74. For Vasa on Mustafa Arslan, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 34-38, and 43-44, several letters to the Porte and the Palace, 5 Za 1304-27 Ra 1305 (July-Dec. 1887); and YEE: 35/2332/43/110 (IIa), 25 L 1304 and 30 M 1305 (July and Oct. 1887), from Vasa to the 5th Army Headquarters. Mustafa Arslan threatened to leave Shuf together with his followers for Hauran, to join Druze there, hence the involvement of the governor of Damascus and the 5th Army commander in this issue. The government already had its hands full keeping the peace between the nomadic tribes and the Druze in Hauran, on the one hand, and trying to bring the unruly Hauran under a modicum of governmental control, on the other. (On these issues, see my "Abdulhamid II's Attempt to Integrate Arabs," pp. 83-85.) Mustafa's threats were therefore deeply disturbing. But Vasa insisted that Mustafa was bluffing. He held that by far the greatest majority of the Druze in Mount Lebanon were happy about their situation and had no intention of leaving for Hauran to live in "the wilderness" there as clients of other Druze branches. For the Druze of Hauran, see Norman N. Lewis, Nomads and Settlers in Syria and Jordan, 1800-1980 (Cambridge, Eng., 1987), 75-95.

75. For the Porte's position, see YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 28/2, from Kâmil to Vasa, 19 R 1305 (Jan. 1888), and references to the Porte's instructions of April 1888 in YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 53-54, 11 M 1306 (Sept. 1888). For praise of Vasa, see YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 52, 6 L 1304 (June 1887), and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 42, 19 Te.e. 1303 (Oct. 1887). The files related to Vasa's governorship make clear that Vasa and his supporters remained in effective control of affairs within Mount Lebanon. There are markedly few complaints raised against them in the documents from about January 1888 to late 1891-early 1892.

76. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 74-78 and 93-94, various letters from Vasa to Istanbul, 22 L 1307-17 M 1308 (June-Sept. 1890), and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 97/1, 97/2, 99, and 100, and YEE: 35/2332/43/100 (IIa), correspondence between the Porte, 5th Army Headquarters, and Vasa, 14 Za 1307-17 M 1308 (July-Sept. 1890). Once again there was commotion in Hauran, and Mustafa Arslan tried to take advantage of the situation to promote his interests in Shuf, at least according to Vasa. Despite the strict orders of the governor and the district governor, Mustafa incited his men to move to Hauran to assist their co-religionists in their complex struggle among themselves, against government troops, and against the nomads.

Another incident which Mustafa used to challenge Nasib Junblat's au-

thority involved Junblat's family affairs. His former wife Renk Gül married Yusuf Salim, a Protestant, apparently according to the Protestant rite. This was in contravention not only of Muslim law but also of Druze custom. Mustafa managed to turn the event into a public incident, which was finally settled by a remarriage according to the Muslim rite, which obliged Yusuf to declare that he had become a Muslim. Mustafa challenged Yusuf's sincerity and continued to accuse Nasib for tolerating such incidents. See YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 85/1, 85/2, 86/2, 86/3, and 86/4; and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 58-62, Sh-Z 1306 (April-Aug. 1889).

77. These cases involved the villages of Kafr Shahna, Barsa, and Tarza. The disputes were complex. But the rivalry between the district governor As'ad Karam and his brother Butrus Karam obviously made the issues even more complicated. Curiously, As'ad was trying to put into effect a negotiated settlement reached earlier under Bishop Yuwakhim Yamin, when he was the district judge. Yuwakhim, dismissed from judgeship, was now acting as the advocate of the peasants, encouraging them, together with Butrus, to defy a settlement. Dibs stood behind them. See YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 83-92, from Vasa to the Porte, various letters, 3 Za 1308-27 M 1309 (June-Sept. 1891); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 107/1 and 107/2, Yuwakhim's petition and the Porte's letter (June 1891); nos. 117/1, 117/2, and 117/3, private correspondence of Butrus Karam intercepted apparently by his brother, and nos. 129 and 134, 11 R and 12 Ca 1309 (Nov.-Dec. 1891), correspondence between Vasa and Istanbul.

78. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 93-94, 17 M 1308 (Sept. 1890).

79. For Vasa's concern over press coverage, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 47, 21 B 1305 (Apr. 1888); pp. 51-52, 12 Z 1305 (Aug. 1888); pp. 61-62, 8 Z 1306 (Aug. 1889); and pp. 93-94, 17 M 1308 (Sept. 1890). The information supplied by Vasa makes clear that the press campaign against his government became quite systematic and markedly annoying to Vasa in 1891. He was particularly disturbed by the articles that appeared in Sadâ al-Sharq published in Cairo. He ordered house searches and acquired some evidence, on the basis of which he took court action against Philip Khazin and Yusuf Shidyaq. He also asked the Porte to take measures against distorted publications in Egypt. But the Porte reminded him that there was no legal basis for such action in Egypt, although the entry of these publications into Ottoman territory proper could be forbidden if their contents were found harmful to the interests of the state. On these issues and the final outcome of the trials, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 80-83 and 88-91, various letters of Vasa, 20 N 1308-13 M 1309 (Apr.-Aug. 1891); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 97, 105, 108, 124, 127, 130, 126 mük., and 116, L 1308-Ca 1309 (May-Dec. 1891), correspondence between Vasa and Istanbul, and the patriarch's letter. The

last mentioned group of documents also mention the pledges of allegiance to the Ottoman Sultanate published by the accused and their supporters. Vasa asserted that Mustafa Arslan was acting in concert with Yusuf Dibs in supporting the publications against the mutasarrifiyya , and that he had sent his cousin Amir Shakib Arslan first to Cairo and then to Istanbul for this purpose. Shakib openly contributed to Sadâ al-Sharq from Istanbul. The Porte urged Vasa to be discreet in his actions against his critics (see, esp., doc. no. 105).

80. Butrus Karam, an important member of the opposition, himself confesses that "affairs look quite bleak, but if opposition persists it will produce good results" (see YEE: 35/419/122/104, no. 117/3). The opposition was clearly based in Beirut, where Mustafa Arslan and Yusuf Dibs lived and met with others to discuss strategy and to plan their moves. Butrus Karam regularly met with them, but he preferred to move to Tripoli (see YEE: 35/2332/43/110, 21 Z 1308 [July 1891]). This tendency of the opposition leaders to avoid Vasa's jurisdiction suggests the repressiveness of his government, but all the evidence at hand makes clear that whatever the extent of this, it was not devoid of local support. The kind of detailed information Vasa was able to acquire on opposition activities (such as intercepted letters and information on clandestine meetings) points in the same direction. It is clear that Vasa was backed by not only the Junblats and As'ad Karam (Butrus' brother), but also by a group of young Maronites, such as Habib Sa'ad and Kan'an Zahir, who eventually became prominent politicians (see Chapter 5).

81. All this information comes from Vasa's reports: see esp. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 51-53, 12 Z 1305-9 M 1306 (Aug.-Sept. 1888); pp. 81-84 and 88-93, 18 L 1308-27 M 1309 (May-Aug. 1891); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 97, 7 Haz. 1307 (June 1891); nos. 127 and 130, 10-11 Ra 1309 (Oct. 1891), and no. 111, 25 Mart 1308 (Apr. 1892). Vasa interprets the information in his own way. For instance, he says that Yusuf ". . . makes the teachers of his school translate harmful literature, . . . and having been directed to undesirable lines and methods of thinking [by such teachers and literature], the students get a misguided education," in defter 1, pp. 89-90. Since this letter is written to the Palace, I presume Vasa is playing on Abdulhamid II's sensitivity to liberal literature, especially that emanating from France. On Dibs' prep school, also see William L. Cleveland, Islam Against the West: Shakib Arslan and the Campaign for Islamic Nationalism (Austin, 1985), pp. 6-7. It should be added that at one point Yusuf Dibs was acting as an intermediary between Vasa and the French consul, a role which suggests that Dibs deliberately tried to keep a foot in both worlds. See defter 1, pp. 29-32, 8 N-6 L 1304 (May-June 1887), and p. 48, 5 Sh 1305 (Apr. 1888).

82. For Vasa's interpretation of Dibs' intentions, see the documents mentioned in the previous note. The most detailed description of the pe-

tition campaign is in YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 127 mük., 13 C 1309 (Jan. 1892). The explanation of the term of councillorship is from Spagnolo, France , p. 189. For a later version of this petition, see note 1 in the next chapter. Vasa argues that in order to get signatures from the Druze, Mustafa told them that the petition was to protest the "improper" marriage of Nasib Junblat's former wife to a Protestant (see note 76 above). Still, he could collect signatures basically from people who needed his assistance in Beirut.

83. For Vasa's self-assessments of his governorship in retrospect, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 80, 20 N 1308 (Apr. 1891), from Vasa to the Porte and the Palace; and YEE: 35/429/122/140, no. 132, 10 Ca 1309 (Dec. 1891), to the grand vizier, private. Also see his personal letter to Cevdet Pasha, defter 2, pp. 43-44 (ca. Oct. 1888).

84. On Vasa's protracted sickness and death, see GG 1013: pp. 87-90 (May-July 1892). When Vasa died, the Porte ordered the governor of Beirut to defray the costs of his family's travel to Istanbul. The governor reported back that he had decided to allocate 60 Ottoman liras for this matter, because Vasa had died a rich man. Sultan Abdulhamid became angry and personally ordered the dispatch of 100 liras to Vasa's family. This was a significant sum at the time.

3 Ottoman Policy and Power Relations in Mount Lebanon, 1892–1915

1. For the text of the petition, see GG 1013: pp. 93-94; for the text of the protest sent to the embassies and the Porte, see pp. 92-93.

2. GG 1013: p. 92, 1 Tem. 1308 (July 1892).

3. GG 1013: pp. 89, 91-92, 103-104, and 95-98, various correspondence (June-Aug. 1892). For more information on this issue, see Chapter 4.

4. GG 1013: pp. 94 and 106-109 for copy of the protocol and related correspondence among the Palace, the Porte, and the Foreign Ministry; pp. 110-111, general instructions of the sultan, 26 M 1310; and pp. 111-112, special instructions of the grand vizier, 29 M 1310 (Aug. 1892).

5. For recommendations of Mustafa Arslan, see GG 1013: pp. 111-112, 29 M 1310, from the grand vizier, and pp. 104-105, 3 and 8 Agus. 1308, from the governors of Beirut and Damascus (Aug. 1892). Naum felt that Mustafa's appointment to Shuf would complicate the affairs of that district, and contemplated other options, but in the end yielded to the pressure in favor of Mustafa. See GG 1016: 1, 13, and 16 R; 4 and 9 Ca, and 3 B 1310 (Oct. 1892-Jan. 1893).

6. William Shorrock, French Imperialism in the Middle East, 1900-1914 (Madison, 1976), 138-148; Spagnolo, France , 196-202 and 217; Jacques Thobie, "Osmanli Devleti'nde Yabanci Sermaye," in Tanzimat'tan

Cumhuriyet'e Türkiye Ansiklopedisi , vol. 3 (Istanbul, 1985), 724-739, and Interêts et impérialisme Français dans l'Empire Ottoman, 1895-1919 (Paris, 1977).

7. Akarh, "Abdulhamid II's Attempt to Integrate Arabs," 74-89, and "Economic Policy and Budgets in Ottoman Turkey, 1876-1909," Middle Eastern Studies 28(1992): 443-476; Sevket Pamuk, The Ottoman Empire and European Capitalism, 1820-1913 (Cambridge, 1987), chap. 7.

8. GG 1013: pp. 147-150, 26 M, 2 S, 14 Ra, and 20 Ra 1311 (Aug.-Sept. 1893), and CL 2/82 (1310-1311). Also see GG 1016: various correspondence in the months of M-Ra 1311.

9. See, for instance, the report of the committee sent to inspect the Beirut harbor in Nov. 1903: CL 1/37: göm. 2, no. 10. On the sentries' involvement in smuggling, see CL 1/37, göm. 2, no. 34, from Mount Lebanon to the Porte, 3 Ca 1325 (June 1907).

10. GG 1014: 16 B 1283 (Nov. 1866).

11. Compare YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, p. 20, 28 Sh 1303 (June 1886), and YEE: 35/429/122/104, 18 R 1303 (Jan. 1886).

12. GG 1016: 7-27 Ka.e. and 18 Ka.s. 1308 (Dec. 1892-Jan. 1893), and 14 Tem., 17 Agus., and 21 Ka.e. 1309 (1893).

13. GG 1019: 6 Sh 1326 (Sept. 1908) and 11 S 1330 (Jan. 1912).

14. On these issues, see Akarh "Ottoman Attitudes Towards Lebanese Emigration, 1885-1910," in The Lebanese and the World: A Century of Emigration , ed. A. Hourani and N. Shehadi (London, 1992), 109-138. On Lebanese emigration in general, see other articles in the same work and those of Karpat, Labaki, Naff, Orfalea, and Safa mentioned in the Bibliography, and Hitti, 473-477.

15. See Khater's account, based on contemporary Lebanese memoris and newspapers (pp. 151-161). It should be noted, however, that Khater tends to have a bias in favor of the Maronite clerical point of view. Spagnolo's account ( France , 190-203), based on contemporary French documents, makes it clear that the French were critical of Naum's authoritarian ways but nevertheless appreciated his efficiency.

16. See Isma'il Haqqi, 603. On budgetary issues, see Chapter 5 below.

17. See CL 1/20: nos. 17 and 34-38 (May-June 1897), and CL 3/104: no. 4, 19 Ra 1315 (Aug. 1897), for petitions. For references to other complaints and petitions, see GG 1016: 23 Te.e. and 16 Te.s. 1309 (Nov. 1893) and 19 Haz. 1310 (July 1894), from the Porte to Naum; the last two letters urge Naum to use discretion. For other complaints, see CL 1/20: nos. 19 and 20 (May-June 1897). On the investigation of Tuaini, see CL 3/107: nos. 11-12, 19 N and 9 L 1315 (Feb.-March 1898).

18. CL 3/107: nos. 17-18, B 1317 (Nov. 1899), letters sent to the Porte by an "Ottoman loyalist" and a "loyal informant"; no. 41, Mart 1318 (March 1902), from Khalil Shihab to the Porte; and no. 40, 2 Mayis 1318

(May 1902), to the foreign minister, by a group of Lebanese notables who wanted their names concealed for fear of Naum's and Mustafa Arslan's possible vengeance.

19. CL 3/107: nos. 31 and 45, 13 Ka.s. 1317 (Jan. 1902), for the original petitions; and nos. 21-23 and 28-29 for their Ottoman-Turkish translations.

20. CL 3/107: nos. 24, 26-27, 30, 33-34, and 39, 23 Z 1319-30 R 1320 (Apr.-Aug. 1902), correspondence between the Porte and various ministries on the petitions and letters mentioned in notes 17 and 18 above. On the development of events leading to Muzaffer's election, see CL 3/113: nos. 1-22, 27 R-28 C 1320 (Aug.-Oct. 1902).

21. This is the impression one gets from reading al-Mallah's book. Muzaffer's contemporaries agree on his good intentions, especially in the first two years of his governorship; see the quotations in Khater, 166-168.

22. CL 1/37: no. 68, 11 L 1320 (Jan. 1903), from the Porte to the Interior Ministry, in reference to Muzaffer's letter dated 18 N 1320 (Dec. 1902). Muzaffer hinted at this solution in his later letters as well. See the references to these letters in the correspondence between the Porte and the Interior Ministry: CL 1/37: göm. 2, nos. 1, 2, and 8, Sh-N 1321 (Oct.-Dec. 1903). For the response of the governor of Damascus, see al-Mallah, 112.

23. CL 2/77-4: nos. 1-16, 17 C-6 Za 1320 (Sept. 1902-Feb. 1903). On the French position, see Spagnolo, France , 226-227; also see al-Mallah, 296-298.

24. There were times when Abdulhamid II would even force his legalistic ministers to stretch the related agreements to their legal limits in order to protect the interests of Ottoman subjects. See the cases discussed in Donald Quataert, Social Disintegration and Popular Resistance in the Ottoman Empire, 1881-1908 (New York, 1983).

25. CL 1/37: göm. 3, no. 66, 17 Sh 1320 (Nov. 1902); no. 71, 8 Za 1320 (Feb. 1903), and göm. 2, no. 2, 1 Sh 1321 (Oct. 1903). Also see al-Mallah, 153-155, 197-206, and 293-294.

26. See the same documents mentioned in the previous note. Muzaffer's accusations were corroborated by the findings of a high-level inspection committee later in 1903; see CL 1/37: göm. 2, no. 10, 15 Sh 1321 (Nov. 1903), and its cover letter, no. 9, same date.

27. CL 1/37: göm. 3, no. 69, 27 L 1320 (Jan. 1903), and YEE: 5/2195/83/2, 3 Za 1320 (Feb. 1903). The latter letter indicates that the Porte considered initiating an investigation of Muzaffer, but refrained. Also see al-Mallah, 200-201.

28. CL 3/114-1: no. 12, 21 Ka.s. 1318 (Feb. 1903), telegram from the grand vizier to Muzaffer. For other correspondence on this incident, see the same file, nos. 6, 9, 17, 26, 28, 29, 33, 35, 38, and 42, Ka.s.-Shu. 1318 (Feb.-March 1903). Also see al-Mallah, 287-296.

29. For the problems between the companies and the local groups, see Thobie's works mentioned in note 6 above. The inspection committee report mentioned in note 26 above makes it clear that Resid was not only supportive of local interest groups but was in fact an organizer and legitimizer of them. See my ''Ottoman Attitudes" for more details on this report.

30. See al-Mallah, 289-291, and Spagnolo, France , 226-227.

31. CL 3/114-1: no. 9, 19 Ka.s. 1318; no. 28, 27 Ka.s. 1318; no. 29, 27 Ka.s. 1318; no. 26, 11 Za 1320; and no. 42, 28 Shu. 1318 (Feb.-March 1903).

32. CL 1/37: göm. 3, no. 71, p. 4, 8 Za 1320 (Feb. 1903). Muzaffer encouraged the Maronite patriarch to write a letter to the Palace with the same emphasis; see al-Mallah, 291-294. Another petition sent to the Palace by "Kisrawanis" was also written, almost certainly with Muzaffer's encouragement; see CL 3/114-1: no. 38, 30 Ka.s. 1318 (Feb. 1903).

33. CL 3/114-1: no. 33, 15 Za 1320 (Feb. 1903), and its appendices nos. 34-35, 10-11 Feb. 1903. Muzaffer was obviously afraid of the Porte's wrath, and in this letter he wrote as if the whole incident had occurred on the initiative of local people.

34. For more information on these developments and the details of the inspection committee report, see the sources mentioned in notes 26 and 29. For Muzaffer's views on the new governor, see CL 1/37, göm. 2, no. 2, 1 Sh. 1321 (Oct. 1903). On the incidents that led to Resid's dismissal, see al-Mallah, 324-357.

35. See note 51 below.

36. See al-Mallah, 112-114 and 242-252.

37. Isma'il Haqqi, 603. The Council did not always fulfill this role very responsibly. For instance, an agreement was reached between Beirut and Mount Lebanon according to which the former would construct 33 kilometers of the Beirut-Saida road at a cost of 5,000 Ottoman liras, in return for construction of a 14-kilometer section of the Beirut-Tripoli road by the latter at an estimated cost of 4,000 Ottoman liras. When Beirut fulfilled its part of the agreement, the Administrative Council pleaded its inability to fulfill its own part. See GG 1016: 7 B 1323 (Sept. 1905), where the Porte invites the mutasarrifiyya to honor its pledge. On another occasion, distribution of the burden for the construction of roads led to a serious dispute among the councillors; see CL 5/190, esp. nos. 5-8, Za 1323 (Jan. 1906).

38. GG 1016: 6 M 1321 (Apr. 1903); CL 3/134: nos. 3-4, 20 Ra and 4 C 1321 (June and Aug. 1903); CL 3/135: 28 B 1321 (Oct. 1903); YEE: 30/2560/51/78: 26 Ra 1322 (June 1904); CL 1/37: göm. 2, no. 20, 5 B 1322 (Sept. 1904) and no. 27, 29 B 1323 (Sept. 1905); GG 1016: 5 B 1323 (Sept. 1905); GG 1013: pp. 158-159, 16 Te.s. 1322 (Nov. 1906). Also see al-Mallah, 115-134 and 155-178.

39. For examples of the kind of pressure the Arslans were putting on Muzaffer, see the petitions in CL 3/114-1: no. 24, ca. Dec. 1902-Jan. 1903, sealed or signed by more than 5,000 people; no. 27, 8 Ka.s. 1318 (Jan. 1903), 'Imadzade 'Ajjaj and his 36 friends; and no. 25, 23 Shu. 1318 (March 1903), 'Ajjaj and his 51 friends. Compare al-Mallah, 112-113.

40. See al-Mallah, 387-394, on relations between the governor and the Church. The following account of the events of 1904 is based on correspondence between Istanbul and Mount Lebanon and the petitions preserved in CL 3/118: nos. 3-45, 22 Mayis 1320-4 Agus. 1321 (June 1904-Aug. 1905). Other related sources are mentioned in notes 41-47 below.

41. Al-Mallah (pp. 393-394) believes that the whole incident was a scheme of the governor of Beirut to drive a wedge between Muzaffer and the patriarch and embarrass both. The Ottoman documents, however, make it clear that the bandit, Iskandar Nims, was in fact captured in the Mountain. There is strong evidence that he was hiding in the monasteries, although he was arrested in a private house. Apparently Muzaffer dropped the charges that would have implicated the Church in this incident. See CL 3/118: nos. 17-19, 9-21 Ca 1322 (July-Aug. 1904) on Iskandar's capture.

42. In addition, the Porte ordered Muzaffer to send his son Resid away from the Mountain, because of numerous complaints about the latter's behavior. On Resid, see Muzaffer's biography in Appendix A.

43. CL 3/118: no. 37, 22 L 1322 (Dec. 1904). Cf. no. 36, 18 N 1322 (Nov. 1904), and no. 25, 4 B 1322 (Sept. 1904).

44. CL 3/118: no. 38, 28 L 1322 (Jan. 1905).

45. Sa'adullah's position becomes evident in Muzaffer's complaints about him: CL 1/21: no. 14, 18 N 1322 (Nov. 1904). On Ilias Huwayyik's position, see Spagnolo, France , 230-233. Muzaffer was aware of the existence of different positions within the Maronite Church, but he believed them to be insignificant: CL 3/118: no. 31, 8 Sh 1322 (Oct. 1904). Also see Chapters 4 and 8 below. On the patriarch's visit to Istanbul, see CL 3/144: nos. 1-35 (Sept. 1905-Jan. 1906).

46. Shakib Arslan, Muzaffar Bâsha fi Lubnân (Alexandria, 1907), summarized and quoted in al-Mallah, passim, esp. pp. 380-386. On Habib's dismissal, see CL 1/21: nos. 15-16, 5-6 Tem. 1321 (July 1905). Muzaffer dismissed even Kan'an al-Zahir at this point, but appointed him to the important district governorship of Matn at the first opportunity, which availed itself in 1906. See the list of officials in al-Mallah, 246-247.

47. See the next chapter on the councillor elections of 1907 and subsequent developments. Muzaffer's conduct was in accord with the instructions of the Porte to forestall the rise of political tension in the Mountain: see CL 1/21, nos. 21, 23, and 25, 14-21 S 1325 (March-April 1907).

48. GG 1013: pp. 160-161, 27-28 Ca 1325 (July 1907).

49. On the problems of Ottoman policy at this juncture, see Akarli,

"Problems," 65-69. For details on Yusuf's appointment, see Spagnolo, France , 235-237. On Habib's efforts, see CL 5/207: nos. 16 and 31.

50. Spagnolo, France , 236-239; and the Porte's letters to Yusuf praising his performance: GG 1019: 2 Z 1325 (Jan. 1908); CL 5/198: no. 1, 17 Te.s. 1323 (Nov. 1907), and no. 3, 2 Z 1325 (Jan. 1908).

51. The Union and Progress Society is commonly referred to as the Young Turks in modern literature. This denotation misleads the uninitiated reader to believe that the Society was composed of "Turks" alone and that it represented a nationalistic movement. The Society in 1908 was distinctly Ottomanist and as such it had an appeal among a broad range of the various ethnic groups within the Empire, particularly in its Anatolian and Arab provinces. There were prominent Arab, Jewish, Circassian, Albanian, Armenian, and Greek figures among the Society's membership. "Young Turks" was a term used in European languages, which also referred to the Ottoman Empire as the ''Turkish Empire." In Turkish and Arabic, the members of the Society were simply the "Unionists" ( ittihâdci/ ittihâdiyûn ). "Young Turks" became the common term under the influence of nationalistic and retrospective interpretations of history, which overlook the transformation of the Society from a basically liberal alliance in the early 1900s to a centrist and corporatist party emphasizing Turkish as the common parlance of the "modern" nation-society which it aspired to form. Although pan-Turkish nationalistic sentiments were always present as a latent force, and became dominant among the party leadership during the First World War, the emphasis placed on this dimension of the Union and Progress movement conceals the true scope of its historical influence on political life in the Empire, including Mount Lebanon and Beirut. Recent research on the Union and Progress movement informs us of its dynamics and the transformation it went through. See, e.g., Hasan kayali, "Arabs and Young Turks: Turkish-Arab Relations in the Second Constitutional Period of the Ottoman Empire, 1908-1918" (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1988).

52. See Feroz Ahmad, "Great Britain's Relations with the Young Turks," Middle Eastern Studies 2 (1966): 302-329; Ulrich Trumpener, Germany and the Ottoman Empire, 1914-1918 (Princeton, N.J., 1968), in the light of Feroz Ahmad's criticism of this book in Middle Eastern Studies 6 (1970): 100-105; and Hayri Mutluçag, ed., Sovyet Devlet Arsivi Belgelerinde Anadolu'nun Taksimi Plani (Istanbul, 1972), esp. 53-89.

53. See CL 5/198: no. 2, 15 Te.s. 1323 (Nov. 1907). Compare Spagnolo, France , 236-237.

54. Walid ' Awad, Ashâb al-fakhâma ruasâ Lubnân (Beirut, 1977), 78-84; CL 5/216: nos. 1-22, Za 1326-M 1327 (Nov. 1908-Jan. 1909); and Spagnolo, France , 248-254. Cf. GG 1013: p. 162, 12 Za 1326 (Dec. 1908), for the Porte's argument about how the Lebanese would benefit from

being represented in the Ottoman Parliament; and GG 1019: no. 137, 1 M 1327 (Jan. 1909), on some of the incidents that occurred during discussion of the issue among the Lebanese.

55. See CL 3/114: no. 26, 28 Haz. 1325 (July 1909), Yusuf paraphrasing a resolution of the Administrative Council; and no. 74, 2 Dec. 1909, petition from 33 people writing "on behalf of the 2,000 Lebanese in Amazonas, Brazil."

56. For Talat's views, see CL 3/114: nos. 27, 36, and 37 (June-Oct. 1909), and other correspondence mentioned in note 57.

57. GG 1019: nos. 41-42, 20 Za 1326 and S 1328 (Dec. 1908, Feb. 1910) and CL 3/114: nos. 22-82, Za 1326-S 1328 (Dec. 1908-Feb. 1910), official correspondence and various petitions from Lebanese and Beirutis. The decision barring sailing vessels along with steamships was taken on 22 Sept. 1909 and officially revised in early Feb. 1910, but the correspondence makes it clear that, pending a revision, the decision was ignored within a week. See esp. CL 3/114: nos. 41, 37, and 67. A summary of the most important correspondence is provided in documents no. 79 (ca. Jan. 1910) and no. 82 (ca. Feb. 1910). On France's position, see Spagnolo, France , 256-257.

58. Ottoman documents make it clear that as a consequence of a series of agreements between the Debt Administration and the government from 1903 onward, the former became far more active in the Governorate of Beirut, which had jurisdiction over the coasts of Mount Lebanon as well. Thus it was demanded that the saltworks of Mount Lebanon be put under the Debt Administration's control; fees were collected from all forest products, including charcoal and lumber, exported from Mount Lebanon to the neighboring provinces, and the Lebanese were obliged to pay fees for certain types of commercial fishing and for sponges they gathered. See, e.g., GG 1019: 8-27 Sh and 24 L 1327 (Aug.-Nov. 1909); 22 L-6 Z 1329 (Oct.-Nov. 1911); 24 Ra-10 C 1330 (March-May 1912), and CL 7/266: nos. 1-3, 22 L 1329 (Oct. 1911). On renewed reaction to tobacco monopolies, see CL 6/239: nos. 1-9, M 1328 (Jan. 1910). Besides, whereas under Abdulhamid contraband was generally tolerated, after 1908 (esp. after 1912-13) the central government became far more zealous on this issue: see CL 6/248: nos. 1-5 (1910); Talat's letter mentioned in note 56; and GG 1019: passim (esp. after 1912-13). Lebanese clearly regretted these developments, as witnessed by the resurgence of the Junia issue. On intensification of the desire for independence or greater autonomy among the Lebanese, see Chapters 4 and 5. The Ottoman central government was particularly sensitive about Lebanese activities and publications in Egypt; see, e.g., GG 1019: 2 C 1330 (May 1912); and CL 3/114: no. 64, 17 Za 1327 (Nov. 1909). On the position of France and Great Britain, see Spagnolo, France , 259-267.

59. See the next chapter for the dispute between the governor and the

Council. For Yusuf's point of view see, esp., CL 1/21: no. 34, 6 Shu. 1325 (Feb. 1910), and CL 6/233: göm. 2, no. 58, 12 May 1910. For Spagnolo's account, see France , 257-267.

60. GG 1019: 23 S 1329 (Feb. 1911). On Ibrahim Hakki Pasha, see Findley, Ottoman Civil Officialdom , 195-209.

61. That this was a deliberate aspect of Abdulhamid II's foreign policy is seen, e.g., in his memorandum to Grand Vizier Cevad Pasha in April 1884, summarized in my "Friction," 14-15.

62. That is, to an extent which no student of the mutasarrifiyya period can afford to overlook.

63. For the Ottoman position and concerns in these negotiations, see GG 1013: pp. 163-169, 18 Te.s.-22 Ka.s. 1328 (Dec. 1912-Feb. 1913). See Spagnolo, France , 274-288, on France's position and concerns. Shorrock's account French Imperialism is superficial because of his insufficient knowledge of the Lebanese scene.

64. By far the greatest portion of the Ottoman correspondence dating from the first 22 months of Ohannes Pasha's term--i.e., from Jan. 1913 to Nov. 1914--revolves around this issue. See GG 1019; CL 7/275; CL 7/277-5; CL 7/277-6, and CL 7/286, and note 56 above. This issue is discussed in more detail in Chapter 5.

65. On Ohannes' position and personality, see especially Yusuf al-Hakim, Bairût wa Lubnân fi'ahd âl'Uthmân , 2nd ed. (Beirut, 1980), 60-68, 78-83, and passim. Compare Khater, 190-200. Ohannes' letters to the Porte in the files mentioned in note 62 clearly manifest the intermediary role he played.

66. For the Cabinet decisions and imperial decrees on the earlier executions, see CL 7/292: nos. 1-13, 10 R-27 C 1333 (Feb.-May 1915). Ohannes resigned on 5 June 1915, and the protocols were abrogated by the central government on 11 July 1915 (28 Sh 1333). There is an impression in existing literature (e.g., Spagnolo, France , 298) that the protocols were abrogated along with the capitulations on 9 Sept. 1914. This is not true. The harsh rule of military authorities in Beirut and Mount Lebanon under the command of Cemal Pasha is a well-worked subject. See, e.g., Hitti, 483-486; al-Hakim, 153-311; and Muhâkamât al-harakat al-'arabiyya fi Lubnân , Beirut, 1982.

4 The Administrative Council

1. See GG 1016: 4 L 1322 (Dec. 1904). Also see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 58-59; and CL 6/229 (the elections of 1911). Also see Rustum, Lubnân , 171; and al-Hakim, 66.

2. See Table 1 (p. 105) in the next chapter.

3. On the village sheikhs, who also functioned as justices of the peace, see Chapter 6 (p. 133). In the town of Zahla, a different system evolved in

time: in principle one delegate (elector) was elected by each 50 tax-paying male residents, and these delegates elected the councillor (Touma, 308, n. 20; GG 1013: p. 169; and Rustum, Lubnân , 124 and 173).

4. Rustum, Lubnân , 167-168; CL 1/21: 16 Ca 1323 (July 1903). Also see CL 1/20: no. 21, 19 M 1315 (June 1897).

5. Walid 'Awad, 75.

6. This right of veto stemmed from a "codicil" to the 1861 Règlement , as discussed in the next chapter (p. 103). For the codicil and its reaffirmation, see GG 1013: pp. 28 and 35.

7. On the relations between Davud and Franko pashas and the Council, see Rustum, Lubnân , 40-150, esp. 64-72, 76, and 124-127; and Tarabain, 241-243.

8. For detailed information on financial issues, see Chapter 5.

9. GG 1013: pp. 73-74, 20 Z 1293 (Jan. 1877); GG 1016: 17 Z 1299 (Oct. 1882); Spagnolo, France , 154; and Rustum, Lubnân , 174-175 and 191.

10. On these issues and what follows on the so-called muhmalât budget, see Chapter 5.

11. Rustum, Lubnân , 125 and 174.

12. Rustum ( Lubnân , 125) says four, adding the December 1871 elections in Zahla. But the information he himself provides makes it clear that Zahla's councillor was elected by consensus among the town's notable personages ( wujahâ ).

13. Rustum, Lubnân , 125, 168-171, and 174.

14. Rustum ( Lubnân , 124f. and 171f.) suggests that there was some tension involved in the selection of Zahla's councillor in 1871 and in the 1879 Jazzin elections.

15. Rustum, Lubnân , 177-178; and Khalaf, Persistence and Change , 109-110.

16. Rustum, Lubnân , 172-174; and the reports of Hamdi Pasha in YEE: 18/417/3/40, 9 M 1300 and M 1300 (Nov. 1882).

17. See Chapter 1 above. For more details, see Harik, Politics and Change , 112-276 passim.

18. Hamdi Pasha's two reports mentioned in note 16; and also by Hamdi Pasha: YEE: 30/2198/51/78. Inspector Riza Pasha's report: YEE: 14/244/126/7. Governor Vasa Pasha's retrospective evaluations: YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 49-50, 29 L 1305 (July 1888); defter 1, p. 61, 1 Za 1306 (June 1889); defter 2, p. 30, 25 R 1305 (Jan. 1888). Also see YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 27, 30/2 and 24. Compare Spagnolo, France , 155 and 160-161; and Kawtharani, 80.

19. See Chapter 2 above; Spagnolo, France , 61-63 and 114; and Khater, 36-37.

20. See Chapter 3 above; and Spagnolo, France , 154-168. Compare CL 1/20: no. 17 (May 1897); CL 3/107: no. 18, 11 B 1317 (Nov. 1899); and CL 3/107: no. 41 (March 1902).

21. Tarabain, 339-356; Khater, 66-137.

22. Hamdi Pasha's report: YEE: 18/417/3/40, 9 M 1300 (Nov. 1882), p. 3; Rüstem Pasha's report: YEE: 18/515/127/44, 6 Ra 1300 (Jan. 1883).

23. Vasa Pasha implies that Rüstem did interfere with the elections: YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 11-12, 7 C 1302 (March 1885). Shakir al-Khuri (quoted in Rustum, Lubnân , 172) implies the same. Hamdi Pasha asserts that the allegations were "nonsensical" (see note 22 above). This allegation does not appear among the complaints expressed in the numerous petitions against Rüstem (see Khater, 71-115).

24. Rüstem Pasha's report: YEE: 18/515/127/44, 6 Ra 1300 (Jan. 1883).

25. Hamdi Pasha's reports mentioned in notes 16 and 18.

26. YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 1, 12 Shu. 1299 (Feb. 1884): the interior minister quoting Vasa's request and informing him of the Porte's decision.

27. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 11-12, 7 C 1302 (March 1885), and pp. 7-8, 4 Shu. 1300 (Feb. 1885).

28. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, p. 13, 6 B 1302 (April 1885), and p. 19, 21 Z 1302 (Oct. 1885).

29. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 22, 26 C 1304 (March 1887); compare defter 1, p. 16, 7 Z 1303 (Sept. 1886).

30. Same documents as in note 29, and defter 1, pp. 22-23, 11 B 1304 (April 1887).

31. From a petition to the Porte signed by 300 people: YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 54/2 (March 1887).

32. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 23-24, 23 B 1304 (April 1887), from Vasa to the Porte.

33. For the protesters' views, see the petition mentioned in note 31; and for Vasa's interpretation, see note 32.

34. On French policy concerning the Ottoman State at this time, see Spagnolo, France , 181-182; on Ottoman policy concerning France, see Akarh, "Problems," 44-55.

35. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 24-36 and 38-39, B-Z 1304 (March-Aug. 1887); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 39-43 and 53-69 and their annexes, B 1304-M 1305 (March--Sept. 1887).

36. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 58-59, 2 Sh 1306 (Apr. 1889), and defter 2, p. 35, 1 Sh 1306 (Apr. 1889), on the 1889 elections. Detailed information on the 1891 elections does not appear in Vasa's papers. I assume they did not cause trouble to the governor, but why and how remain to be established.

37. Compare YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, p. 13, 6 B 1302 (Apr. 1885); defter 2, p. 19, 21 Z 1302 (Oct. 1885); and defter 1, p. 10, 21 Z 1302.

38. Allegations of self-enrichment abound in journalistic accounts. The sources of these accounts are often the political rivals of the accused; consequently, they should be viewed with reservations. For the possible ways

fraud could be committed, see the minutes of the committee established to investigate the allegations against Councillor Shadid 'Aql: CL 5/207: documents 90-173; note 65 below; and the complaints dating from Naum's period in CL 3/107: esp. no. 21 (Jan. 1902).

39. Shadid 'Aql, Khalil 'Aql, and Ilias Shuairi of Matn, Kan'an Zahir of Batrun, and Muhsin Muhammad of Kisrawan are good examples.

40. GG 1013: p. 111, 29 M 1310 (Aug. 1892); and GG 1016: same date.

41. GG 1013: pp. 93-94, 5 Tem. 1308 (July 1892). This is the petition initiated by Bishop Yusuf Dibs, as mentioned in Chapter 3 (p. 58) above.

42. GG 1013: pp. 105-106, 15 Aug. 1892. Compare Spagnolo, France , 192.

43. GG 1013: p. 111, 29 M 1310 (Aug. 1892).

44. See CL 1/71: no. 7, 11 Ra 1310 (Oct. 1892); CL 3/107: no. 45, petition signed by 1,000 Lebanese to prevent Naum's reappointment in 1902; Bishara al-Khuri, Haqâiq Lubnâniyya (Beirut, 1961), vol. 1: 23-45, esp. 23 and 28-29; Spagnolo, France , 194ff.; Khair, 92; and Khater, 154. The quotation is from CL 1/71: no. 7, which is a letter from the Foreign Ministry to the grand vizier quoting a telegram by Naum. That Naum should be communicating with the Foreign Ministry on this issue is indicative of the involvement of the ambassadors. Later, in 1910, Governor Yusuf Pasha requested the Porte's permission to dispel the Council "as Naum had done." When asked to verify his statement, Yusuf referred to the same telegram and added that he believed Naum had acted under oral orders (CL 1/21: nos. 33, 34, and 36). The grand vizier told Yusuf that in the Porte's archives there was no trace of any such permission being given to Naum (see GG 1019: 17 Shu. 1325, from the Porte to Mount Lebanon; and CL 6/230: no. 44, report on archival records on the issue, March 1910). When Ohannes Pasha made a similar reference to Naum in 1913, he too was given the same reply (see GG 1019: 9 and 14 Shu. 1328).

45. CL 1/20: no. 32 (July 1897). Naum held that in this way he was reconciling the original text of the Règlement and the protocol of 1892. Compare the complaints on this point: CL 1/20: no. 34. There are accusations that he persisted in this practice in his second term as well--despite the warnings to the contrary in the protocol of 1897 for his reappointment. See CL 3/107: no. 45 (Jan. 1902).

46. See Chapter 3 above; Spagnolo, France , 186-189, 193-202; alKhuri, vol. 1: 24ff.; and Khater, 154. On diplomatic conditions, see Akarh, "Problems," 23-76, 136; and Shorrock, French Imperialism , 138-148. On Naum's relations with the Church, see Chapter 8 (pp. 168-169) below.

47. Habib Sa'ad's career inspires me to argue so (Walid 'Awad, 57-115), and so do the impressions of Bishara al-Khuri's father on him (vol. 1: 23-49).

48. See the file on Shadid 'Aql: CL 5/107: esp. nos. 16 and 31; the petitions against Naum in 1902 preserved in CL 3/107: esp. nos. 17, 18, and 45; Spagnolo, France , 318; and Chapter 3 (p. 64) above.

49. Based on al-Mallah, 176-178, 243-258, 263-277; CL 3/134; GG 1016: 16 Za 1323 (Jan. 1906); YEE: 5/2195/83/2, 3 Za 1320 (Jan. 1903); Spagnolo, France , 225-229; and Khater, 171.

50. For details, see al-Mallah, 129-134; and Spagnolo, France , 224; and the case of March 1907 elections described in detail in CL 1/21: no. 27, from Mount Lebanon to the Porte, 6 Ra 1325. A number of people from Kura intended to oppose the election results, but could not because of its fair conduct; see CL 1/21: nos. 21-38 (March-May 1907).

51. See al-Mallah, 304-315; and Spagnolo, France , 230-235. Also see CL 5/107: the file on Shadid 'Aql.

52. See the sources mentioned in note 49; and Spagnolo, France , 259. Also see Chapter 3.

53. In al-Mallah's account (275 and 305), Shadid is depicted as an ambivalent politician. But in the file on his trial (CL 5/207), he appears as a master of provincial politics who had managed to gain significant influence on village sheikhs in Matn, basically through wheeling and dealing, but also with the respect he inspired in them.

54. For Yusuf's admission of the Council's prerogative in administrative inquiries, see CL 5/207: no. 39, 13 M 1327 (Feb. 1909). Other evidence corroborates this prerogative. See, for instance, CL 3/107: no. 12, 19 N 1315 (Feb. 1898), the investigation and settlement of the charges against Iskandar Tuaini. Shadid and his lawyer attributed this prerogative to the protocol of 1892. See, e.g., CL 5/207: nos. 29, 73, and 34 (Dec. 1908-Jan. 1909). But the related provision of that protocol covers only the judges.

55. For Yusuf's position, see esp. CL 5/207: nos. 16, 23, 24, 25, 28 (Sept.-Oct. 1908), and no. 39, 13 M 1327 (Feb. 1909). For the defense, see nos. 16, 33, 31, 29, 73, and 34 (Sept. 1908-Jan. 1909). For the parliament analogy, see no. 34 (Jan. 1909).

56. For the State Council's position, see CL 5/207: no. 40, 20 Za 1326 (Jan. 1909); no. 55, 25 M 1327 (Feb. 1909); no. 64, 4 S 1327 (Feb. 1909); no. 75, 20 R 1327 (May 1909); and no. 88, 4 M 1328 (Jan. 1910), in conjunction with nos. 34, 36, 83, 66-67, and 65 (Jan.-March 1909). Compare GG 1019: 4 Ka.s. 1325 (Jan. 1910); and Ahmed Suayb, Hûkûk-i 'dâre (Istanbul, 1909/10), 175ff. and 225-232. The file on Shadid leaves little doubt that the Ottoman justice system performed poorly in this case. Ample evidence in this volume--as well as other sources--indicates that the State Council's performance in the Shadid case was not typical of its usual record and was rather related to the transition it was undergoing. Shadid's and even more so Antuan Faris' aggressive defense may also have been responsible for the outcome. Faris several times accused the State

Council of backing Yusuf Pasha, a remnant of Abdulhamid II's "despotic era" and a "despot" himself. Faris also threatened the State Council with mass demonstrations and even bloodshed (see CL 5/207: esp. nos. 66-67). There were similar threats in at least one petition signed by the people of Matn (see nos. 171-172, Jan. 1909). Yusuf might well have deserved the accusations leveled against him, but it would not be surprising if Fair's overstated, if not uncouth, defense created a reaction among the members of the State Council.

I want to add here that Jean Naffah's concepts of Ottoman "law" and "irade" and her remarks on administrative litigation in the Ottoman system in "Administrative Law'' (in The Lebanese System , ed. Antoine el-Gemayel [Washington, D.C., 1985], 74-75) are entirely misinformed and deeply prejudiced. Quite a few of the problems and features of administrative law in modern Lebanon that she describes have clearly retained the influence of the mustasarrifiyya days.

57. Spagnolo, France , 249-250, 259; Khater, 177-181; and Walid 'Awad, 79-83.

58. CL 6/230. Compare Khater, 180.

59. CL 6/229.

60. For the details of Jirjus Zuain's trial, see CL 6/233-1 and 6/233-2 (1910-11). Compare Khater, 181-184. On the earlier tension, see GG 1019: passim, and CL 6/241 (June 1909).

61. GG 1019: 4 Shu. 1325 (Feb. 1910). Compare CL 6/230: no. 44.

62. CL 6/230: no. 15, a petition signed by the representatives of various groups (24 Apr. 1910); nos. 45-50, several petitions, but the same text, signed by about 900 people from different districts (1-10 Apr. 1910); nos. 16-17 and 23-26, another petition signed by many people (24-30 Apr. 1910). A group of people from Kisrawan sent additional petitions in defense of 'Azar's rights: nos. 20, 27, and 32 (28 March 1910); and 29, 34, 35, and 36 (28 March 1910). Tamar, whose election 'Azar opposed, had somewhat distanced himself from the "liberals," as evidenced by no. 41 in the file.

63. CL 6/230: nos. 38, 39, 41, 42, and 44 (May 1910); CL 6/233-2: nos. 45 and 58 (May 1910); and GG 1019: 8 Mayis-28 Haz. 1326 (May-July 1910). The councillors who defended this position were Sa'adallah Huwayyik (Maronite, Batrun), Khalil 'Aql (Maronite, Matn), Mahmud Junblat (Druze, Jazzin), Muhammad Sabra (Druze, Matn), Ilias Shuairi (Greek Orthodox, Matn), Yusuf Baridi (Greek Catholic, Zahla), and Muhammad Muhsin (Shiite, Kisrawan). The Sunni councillor of Jazzin, the Druze councillor of Shuf (Fuad 'Abd al-Malak), the Maronite councillor of Jazzin, and the deputy chairman (Maronite) Qabalan Abi-l-Lama'--who had replaced Salim 'Ammun in April 1909--did not participate in the demonstrations of the former group.

64. On the considerations of the guarantor powers and the complica-

tions of their Lebanese policy, see Spagnolo, France , 220-221, 234-236, and esp. 255-263. Also see Shorrock, French Imperialism .

65. The file on Khalil 'Aql and Ilias Shuairi (CL 1/21: nos. 44-50, Aug.-Oct. 1910), like the one on Shadid 'Aql (CL 5/207: 173 documents, July 1908-Jan. 1910), provides interesting information on local politics. An edited publication of these two files by a scholar familiar with families and politics in Matn would be most welcome. Here I summarize the charges brought against Khalil and Ilias to give an idea of the type of information available in these files. Khalil had signed a contract with the sheikh of Qurnat al-Hamar, Yusuf Ta'amma, who himself wanted to run for a councillorship and to that end had made arrangements with a number of other sheikhs, paying them a total of 150 gold Ottoman liras and promising to repair the cemetery of Antilias. Sheikh Yusuf agreed to withdraw his candidacy in favor of Khalil, and also to persuade his supporters to vote for Khalil and for his Greek Orthodox ally Ilias. In return, Khalil agreed to pay 200 liras to Sheikh Yusuf, plus the 150 which the latter had spent on other sheikhs. Khalil also pledged to take upon himself the repair of the Antilias cemetery. Finally, Khalil promised to resign after three years (without completing the full six-year term) and to mobilize his own supporters to assure the election of Sheikh Yusuf in his place for the remaining three years. Khalil gave Yusuf a promissory note for 1,000 liras, to be claimed if Khalil did not keep his last promise. The sheikh of Antilias was also brought into the deal. He agreed to cast his vote for Khalil and Ilias, and as an evidence of his pledge signed a promissory note for 300 liras. The parties agreed to leave the last check in the custody of either Kan'an al-Zahir or Habib Sa'ad. A document from Shadid 'Aql's file (the minutes of his inquisition, Father Butrus Nasrallah's statement) makes clear that the promissory notes signed by various parties in these deals had a symbolic value. Indeed, it is difficult to conceive such documents as having much legal worth, especially in light of the fact that elections were based on a secret ballot. (This was a cardinal point in Shadid 'Aql's defense). Nevertheless, the notes seem to have been taken quite seriously by the sheikhs.

66. The arguments in his case concentrated on the severity of the initial charges and on his right to a trial on bail, without being under custody. Jirjus was put on trial on charges of felony at first. His lawyer appealed to the High Court of Appeal in Istanbul and got the initial charge reduced to misdemeanor. Jirjus should have been released from custody automatically, but the prosecutor kept delaying the implementation of the High Court's decision, because, according to Jirjus, he shared the governor's grudge against him for old accounts. Jirjus remained in prison for about seven months. Ultimately, he was sentenced to fifteen months of imprisonment, which was just sufficient to bar him from public service. For the details of his case, see CL 6/233-1 and 6/233-2.

67. CL 1/21: nos. 45-47 (Aug. 1910), petition signed by Councillors Sa'adallah Huwayyik, Khalil 'Aql, Ilias Shuairi, Muhammad al-Hajj Muhammad, Yusuf al-Baridi, and Mahmud Junblat; and no. 48, 27 N 1328 (Oct. 1910), Yusuf's letter to the Porte in response to the councillors' petition.

68. CL 1/21: no. 48 mentioned above, and nos. 50 and 52 (Sept.-Oct. 1910). Compare CL 6/232-2: nos. 45 and 58 (May 1910); CL 1/21: no. 34 (Feb. 1910), and the related documents mentioned in note 44 above.

69. CL 1/21: no. 49, 25 N 1328, and no. 51; and GG 1019: 16 L 1328 (Sept.-Oct. 1910).

70. CL 6/229: no. 13; GG 1019: 8 M 1329 (Jan. 1911); and CL 6/229: no. 16, 29 S 1329 (March 1911).

71. CL 6/229: no. 12, 23 M 1329 (Jan. 1911), and no. 15, 12 Ra 1329 (March 1911); and GG 1019: 23 S 1329 (Feb. 1911). The advice is in this last document. See the previous chapter (p. 76) for a long quotation from Ibrahim Hakki's "advice" to Yusuf.

72. GG 1019: 2 Tem.-8 Ka.e. 1328 (July-Dec. 1912). Sa'adallah Huwayyik was the acting deputy chairman through most of this period. See Khater, 187.

73. Even the petitioners complaining of the councillors in April 1910 argued in terms of the Council's representativeness. See note 62 above. Also see the petitions by Shadid or his lawyers and supporters in CL 5/207: esp. nos. 34, 73, and 171-172. On this point, also see Khater, 186-187; al-Mallah, 43-72; Walid 'Awad, 84; and Spagnolo, France , 274-280. Yusuf Pasha himself complains about this development: CL 6/230: no. 42, 23 Nis. 1326 (May 1910); also see no. 41. On the leading members of al-Arza, see CL 7/275-1: no. 10 (June 1913).

74. Spagnolo, France , 275ff. For the negotiations and the final text: GG 1013: pp. 163-169.

75. The idea was explicitly inspired by the procedures that had applied in Zahla for a long time; see note 3 above.

76. The stipulations of the protocol were deemed nonretroactive, but some members of the 'Imad family in Shuf opposed the application of this principle to the Druze member from Jazzin (Mahmud Junblat), whose constituency had been shifted to Shuf. See GG 1019: 5-14 Shu. 1328 (Feb. 1913).

77. Daud 'Ammun was elected to the post. Elections were also held in Kura, where Niqula Ghusn replaced Jirji Tamar. See al-Hakim, 67-68; but Hakim's assertion about the renewal of all elections (p. 65) is contradicted by Ottoman sources.

78. The advice was from Selim Melhame Pasha, an influential Beiruti in Istanbul. See Khater, 193; and Walid 'Awad, 85.

79. See al-Hakim, 76-77 and passim; Walid 'Awad, 86; and Khater,

194-195. At one point Ohannes, too, considered dismissing the Council, but he was promptly warned against it by the Porte; see GG 1019: 9 and 14 Shu. 1328 (Feb. 1913).

80. Based mainly on al-Hakim's treatment of the relations between Ohannes and the Council under Habib's leadership.

5 Taxation and Fiscal Administration

1. A. Lutfi, Târîh , vol. 8: 45n.; Spagnolo, France , 63-64; GG 1013: pp. 9-21. On fiscal organization and the tax burden in the Mountain before the mutasarrifiyya , see Polk, Opening , 32-49 and 141-159, and Chevallier, La société , 108-130. Early in the nineteenth century, one piaster was worth about one French franc, but in the 1830s it was worth 0.25 franc, in the 1840s 0.2-0.22 franc, and by the 1850s 0.2 franc. From the early 1880s until the First World War, 100 piasters or one Ottoman lira (OL) equaled roughly 5 French francs; 18 shillings (0.9 sterling pound); or 4.40 U.S. dollars (Chevallier, La société , 129-130; and Issawi, Economic History , 520-522; compare Cuinet, 233).

2. GG 1014: 13 R 1287 (July 1870).

3. Articles 1, 2, and 16 of the 1861 Règlement . Compare GG 1013: 23-27; and Noradounghian, vol. 3: 144-150.

4. GG 1013: p. 28; and Noradounghian, vol. 3: 149-150. The monetary unit used in the Règlement and its codicil is kese , which equaled 500 piasters or 5 Ottoman liras.

5. For the 1864 Règlement , see GG 1013: pp. 30-35; Düstûr , 1st series, vol. 4: 696-701; or Noradounghian, vol. 3: 223-228.

6. Isma'il Haqqi, 643. See also Rustum, Lubnân , 131-132; and IRADE-Dahiliye: 32083, 6 Ra 1278 (Sept. 1861).

7. Isma'il Haqqi, 625; compare Sa'id, 196-198. The head tax is called the ferdé in the European sources (see Polk, 154).

8. Isma'il Haqqi, 625-626; Rustum, Lubnân , 131-132. A dirhem corresponded to a taxable value of 2,400 piasters, estimated on the basis of productivity measured by weight. According to the survey, then, there was a total of about 300 million piasters worth of taxable agricultural productive capacity in Mount Lebanon. For the decree on the survey, see IRADE-Dahiliye: 32083, 6 Ra 1278 (Sept. 1861).

9. YEE: 35/429/122/104, varak 80, 29 S 1306 (Nov. 1888), from the Porte to Vasa. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 55-57, 7 R 1306 (Dec. 1888), from Vasa to the Porte. For foreign observations on unequal tax distribution, see Spagnolo, France , 172. Also see GG 1013: pp. 165-169. Compare Sa'id, 191-193, on the distribution of this tax among the people of Matn.

10. In 1912, the Porte and the European powers finally reached an

agreement on the need for a new land survey in Mount Lebanon. The decision could not be implemented, however, because of local opposition. See the section on the 1913-14 budget (pp. 121-123) and note 64 below.

11. GG 1013: p. 46, 15 Ca 1284 (Sept. 1867); pp. 58-59, 26 Sh and 14 L 1288 (Nov. and Dec. 1871); pp. 67 ff., 19 Ca 1290 (July 1873); p. 154, 23 Za 1290 (Jan. 1874); pp. 70 ff., 14 S 1291 (Apr. 1874); p. 72, 2 M 1292 (Feb. 1875); pp. 157-158, 27 May 1876; p. 162, 13 R 1322 (June 1904); YEE: 35/429/122/104, varak 22, 16 Tem. 1302 (July 1886); GG 1016: 8 Za 1303 (Aug. 1886); GG 1014: various documents; and CL 1/22 (1302-1303). Also see AYNIYAT no. 866: 3 S 1294 (Feb. 1877). Quotations in Tarabain's Lubnân , 264-301 and 341-342, from the minutes of the Council and French consular documents, show that the Muaissara issue was taken so seriously because it might lead to an increase in taxation. See GG 1015: 14 S 1291 (Apr. 1874); and CL 7/275-1: no. 33, 27 Ca 1331 (May 1913), and nos. 21-23, 12 Haz. 1329 (July 1913), on the positions of the Finance Ministry and the Administrative Council on the issue.

12. Isma'il Haqqi, 624 and 626.

13. For the Arabic version of the Règlement , see Rustum, Lubnân , 55-61; here, article 15; and Tarabain, 386.

14. GG 1014: 1 Ra 1287 (June 1870), 27 B 1287 (Oct. 1870), and 25 N 1288 (Dec. 1871); Rustum, Lubnân , 133-135; and Isma'il Haqqi, 626-629.

15. For 1867-68, see Rustum, Lubnân , 129; for 1882-83, CL 1/10; and for 1913-14, Isma'il Haqqi, 629.

16. GG 1014: 10 B 1284 (Nov. 1867); Rustum, Lubnân , 83-84 and 128-129.

17. GG 1014: 23 R 1286 (Aug. 1869); GG 1013: 7 Ra 1287 (June 1870); GG 1014: 26 Sh 1288 (Nov. 1871); YEE: 18/527/13/31, 17 N 1288 (Dec. 1871).

18. See GG 1013: pp. 76-77 and 79-80; GG 1014: passim; and Rustum, Lubnân , 117-122.

19. Rustum, Lubnân , 133; and GG 1014: 27 L 1288 (Jan. 1872).

20. GG 1013: pp. 78-79, 9 S 1291 (March 1874). On schools, ibid.; GG 1014: passim; AYNIYAT no. 866, 4 Z 1292 and 1 R 1293 (Jan. and Apr. 1876); and Rustum, Lubnân , 144-145.

19. Rustum, Lubnân , 133; and GG 1014: 27 L 1288 (Jan. 1872).

20. GG 1013: pp. 78-79, 9 S 1291 (March 1874). On schools, ibid.; GG 1014: passim; AYNIYAT no. 866, 4 Z 1292 and 1 R 1293 (Jan. and Apr. 1876); and Rustum, Lubnân , 144-145.

21. GG 1016: 17 Z 1299 (Oct. 1882), and 29 R 1301 (Feb. 1884); YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 8, 10 R 1301; and CL 1/10. On tax arrears, see Rustum, Lubnân , 191-200.

22. GG 1019: 29 Z 1331; CL 7/275-1: no. 24, 26 Z 1331 (Nov. 1913); and the 1913 mutiny discussed below.

23. GG 1014: 13 R 1287 (July 1870); GG 1013: pp. 74-75, 28 Ca 1294 (June 1877). As late as 1903, rumors circulated among the Lebanese that the central government might demand the tax arrears accumulated since

the beginning of the mutasarrifiyya (see al-Mallah, 272). But Ottoman documents make clear that these rumors were baseless.

24. Rustum, Lubnân , 197-198; Tarabain, 341-346; and al-Mallah, 271-273. Bishara al-Khuri is grossly mistaken when he argues in his memoirs (vol. 1: 28-29) that the Ottoman government "did not help the Lebanese a penny."

25. See the Maronite patriarch's claim in al-Mallah, 267. This issue played an important role in the dispute over developing Junia into an international port, as discussed in Chapter 3 and below in this chapter.

26. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 8, 10 R 1301 (Feb. 1884); defter 2, pp. 22-23, 12 C 1304 (March 1887).

27. Isma'l Haqqi, 629. See also Rustum, Lubnân , 130.

28. GG 1014: 13 R and 3 C 1287 (July-Aug. 1870); and CL 5/190: no. 9, 29 Sh 1325 (Oct. 1907).

29. See the documents in CL 1/10.

30. Isma'il Haqqi, 629-635.

31. IRADE-Maliye no. 4: 8 Z 1313; GG 1016: 17 Z 1313 (May 1896); and CL 2/97 (May 1896-Apr. 1898), which indicates that in neighboring provinces taxes of 3.5 piasters per sheep or goat and 5 piasters per swine were collected.

32. Isma'il Haqqi, 630-631.

33. IRADE-Meclis-i Mahsus: 9 N 1308 (Apr. 1891); together with Shorrock, French Imperialism , 139-140.

34. Isma'il Haqqi, 600-616; and Cuinet, 224-232.

35. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 13, 26 N 1303 (June 1886); YEE: 35/2332/43/110, 25 L 1304 (July 1887).

36. Isma'il Haqqi, 602, 604-605, and 633-634.

37. See Chapter 2 (pp. 52-53) above.

38. CL 5/190: nos. 1-12 (1906-1907).

39. Isma'il Haqqi, 633-634.

40. GG 1016: 17 Z 1313 (May 1896); Isma'il Haqqi, 230-232.

41. See al-Khuri, vol. 1: 42-43. For more information on the position of the notables, see Chapter 7; also examine the list of officials in the six almanacs of Mount Lebanon, e.g., Sâlnâme: Cebel-i Lübnân , vol. 4 (Bait ul-Din, 1307 [1889-90]).

42. Isma'il Haqqi, 629.

43. Ibid., 630-632.

42. Isma'il Haqqi, 629.

43. Ibid., 630-632.

44. GG 1013: pp. 53, 55, and 75-76, 20 Ca 1286 (Aug 1869), 21 B 1287 (Oct. 1870), and 1 B 1294 (July 1877); GG 1014: 13 B 1292 (Aug. 1875), 25 Ca 1293 (June 1876); and Tarabain, 339-349. To encourage the use of official blank forms, Istanbul gave them to the government of Mount Lebanon at a discount. The Lebanese bought the forms not for the purpose for which they were intended but to sell them at a profit in the neighbor-

ing provinces. The discount was discontinued. See GG 1015: 25 S 1291 (Apr. 1874).

45. GG 1014: 13 B 1292 (Aug. 1875).

46. GG 1014: 25 Ca 1293 (June 1876); CL 1/34: nos. 1-3, Ca-B 1304 (Feb.-March 1887), and nos. 5-6, Ca-C 1293 (June-July 1876); and GG 1013: pp. 158-159, 16 Te.s. 1322 (Nov. 1906). The Porte's 1876 decision was reviewed and reiterated in 1887 and 1906. Also see GG 1019: 13 M 1331 (Jan. 1913).

47. Al-Mallah, 148-152; Spagnolo, France , 224; and CL 1/37: no. 71, 8 Za 1320 (Feb. 1903). Al-Mallah's detailed account is most useful, but it leaves one with the impression that the efforts of the governor and his supporters failed. This is not true.

48. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 9, 3 L 1301 (July 1884). Compare Rustum, Lubnân , 131, for a similar attempt under Franko.

49. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 11, 6 S 1302 (Nov. 1885).

50. YEE: 35/429/122/104, varak 31/1-4, 22 R 1304 (Jan. 1887), and varak 32/2, 19 Feb. 1887. Also GG 1016: 22 R 1304.

51. YEE: 35/439/122/105, deter 1, pp. 68-69 and 21-22, 28 C 1304 and 6 C 1304; and defter 2, pp. 31-32, 26 C 1304 (Feb.-March 1887).

52. Spagnolo, France , 178.

53. Ibid., 238 and 249, and Shorrock, French Imperialism , 148.

52. Spagnolo, France , 178.

53. Ibid., 238 and 249, and Shorrock, French Imperialism , 148.

54. Isma'il Haqqi, 630-632.

55. CL 1/17: 1300-1322 (1883-1904). Also see GG 1019: 8 Sh 1327 (Aug. 1909); 27 Sh 1327 (Sept. 1909); 6 Z 1329 (Nov. 1911); 24 Ra 1330 (March 1912); and 9 Ra 1332 (Feb. 1914).

56. Isma'il Haqqi, 630-633.

57. On tobacco, see GG 1015: 19 C 1291 (Aug. 1874); GG 1016: 22 B 1299 (June 1882); and Isma'il Haqqi, 630-631. On hookah tobacco, see GG 1013: pp. 151-153, 8 N 1314 (Feb. 1897); CL 2/77-1, 2/77-2, 2/77-3, and 2/77-4, 1310-1332 (1892-1914); and Isma'il Haqqi, 630-631. Also see Spagnolo, France , 198, 226-227; GG 1019: 6 N 1332 (Aug. 1914); and Chapter 3 (p. 65) above.

58. Isma'il Haqqi, 629-634.

59. For a clear articulation of this position of the Administrative Council, see CL 7/275-1: no. 33, 27 Ca 1331 (May 1913), from the finance minister to the grand vizier.

60. On judiciary organization, see Chapter 6. On fees, see Isma'il Haqqi, 628-629; and Spagnolo, France , 195. But Spagnolo is not correct when he says that Naum introduced the court fees.

61. On Lebanese emigration and travel permits, see my "Ottoman Attitudes." GG 1019: 8 Ra 1326 (Apr. 1908); CL 6/254: nos. 1-3, B 1328 (July 1910); and Abraham M. Rihbany, A Far Journey (Boston and New York, 1914), 168-172, make clear that the travel permit remained the basic document with which Lebanese traveled abroad until about 1910-11. For

the new passport law, complaints of some Lebanese travelers, and the Porte's related letters to the governor of Mount Lebanon, see GG 1019: 6 R and 17 N 1331 (March and Aug. 1913). On the issuance of regular passports by the local government, see CL 7/277-5: nos. 46 and 48, 28 L 1332 and 2 Agus. 1330 (Aug.-Sept. 1914).

62. On passport fees, see Isma'il Haqqi, 628-629; and CL 7/275-1: nos. 27-29, Mart 1329 (March 1913). Compare CL 7/277-5: no. 48, 2 Agus. 1330 (Aug. 1914), from the Finance Ministry to the Porte.

63. GG 1013: pp. 163-168; and CL 2/275-1: no. 30, correspondence related to the 1912 negotiations and the text of the protocol. The Ottoman Cabinet (or Council of Ministers) interpreted the embassies' nonrefusal of the communication from the Foreign Ministry as acceptance; see GG 1013: p. 168, minutes of the Cabinet.

64. CL 7/275-1: nos. 38-41, proposal of the Société Général d'Enterprises dans l'Empire Ottoman, and Ohannes' letter to the Porte (March 1913); a beautiful and detailed map of Mount Lebanon eventually prepared by this company is included.

65. CL 7/275-1: no. 42, Ohannes reporting the Council's proposal to the Porte, 17 R 1331 (March 1913).

66. On this point, see CL 7/275-1: no. 33, the Finance Ministry's criticism of the Council's position, 27 Ca 1331; no. 16, Ohannes' comments, 13 Haz. 1329; and no. 21-23, the Council's minutes, 12 Haz. 1329 (May-June 1913).

67. CL 7/275-1: nos. 40-42, Ohannes' cover letter and introductory statement to the Council's budget proposal, 17 R 1331; and no. 27, Ohannes' alternative budget proposal forwarded to the Porte by his chief accountant, 14 Mart 1329 (March 1913). Compare no. 32, from the governor of Beirut to the Porte, in partial support of Ohannes' position, 24 Ni. 1329 (May 1913).

68. The following description of the first phase of the mutiny is based on CL 7/275-1: no. 57, Ohannes' telegram to the Porte, 10/11 Ni. 1329 (23/24 April 1913); no. 13, first report of the Ottoman inspectors sent to Mount Lebanon in June 1913; and no. 9, copies of the mutineers' petition and of the decisions of the Council and the governor, 9 Ni. 1329 (22 April 1913); and al-Hakim, 78-83.

69. For gendarmerie salaries, compare Isma'il Haqqi, 636, and CL 7/275-1: no. 7, appendix to no. 11, the second report of the inspectors, 15 Haz. 1329 (June 1913). Compare nos. 36-37, from Ohannes to the Porte, and the appended charts, 26 Ni. 1329 (May 1913).

70. CL 7/275-1: nos. 57 and 13 mentioned in note 67 above, and no. 8, report on Wadi' 'Abud's absence by his commanding officer, 21 mayis 1329 (June 1913). Compare no. 34, from Ohannes to the Porte, 20 Ni. 1329 (May 1913); and al-Hakim, 78-79.

71. CL 7/275-1: nos. 57, 5 and 35, cables from Ohannes to the Porte,

10-17 Ni. 1329 (April 1913). Compare no. 32, from the governor of Beirut to the Porte, and no. 50, from the War Ministry to the Porte (April-May 1913).

72. CL 7/275-1: no. 54-55, 18 Ni. 1329 (May 1913). Also see GG 1019, same date.

73. CL 7/275-1: no. 45, the decision of the Cabinet, 7 C 1331, and no. 33, the Finance Ministry's report on which the Cabinet's decision was based, 27 Ca 1331; compare no. 46, from the Porte to Ohannes, 12 C 1331 (May 1913).

74. CL 7/275-1: no. 21-23, minutes of the Administrative Council dispatched to the Porte, 12 Haz. 1329 (June 1913).

75. Compare excerpts from A. Ruppin in Issawi, 272, and the account of Jalal Bey in Isma'il Haqqi, 456-471, esp. 470. Compare Spagnolo, France , 273.

76. CL 7/275-1: no. 11-12, the second report of the inspectors, Colonel Tayyar and Captain Besim Kâmil Beys, 15 Haz. 1329 (June 1913). According to their instructions, the inspectors prepared two reports, one formal and the other classified. In the latter, they were expected to report on the general political situation in Mount Lebanon and the conduct of Ohannes Pasha. Both inspectors were Unionists who enjoyed the confidence of Grand Vizier Mahmud Sevket Pasha. Mahmud Svket was assassinated, and Said Halim had replaced him, by the time the inspectors completed their mission.

77. CL 7/275-1: Ohannes' comments on the Council's decision in no. 21-23, and his letter to the Porte, no. 16, both 12 Haz. 1329 (June 1913).

78. CL 7/275-1: nos. 24, 25, and 17, minutes of the Cabinet, letters of the grand vizier and the Finance Ministry, and the ordinance issued thereby, 26 Z 1331-29 M 1332 (Nov.-Dec. 1913).

79. The total revenue from the customs of Junia, Jubail, and Batrun was 119,600 piasters in 1910-11, 91,100 piasters in 1911-12, and 72,000 piasters in 1912-13, according to a statement by the Customs Department. See CL 7/275-1, no. 28 (May 1913). The exact nature of these sums is not clear; they may have excluded the amount allocated to the Debt Administration, as well as that spent on the maintenance of the related customs and port facilities, in keeping with common Ottoman practice.

80. Hence Ohannes' insistence on the need to cooperate with the Council. In their second report mentioned in note 76 above, the inspectors also point to the influence of the Council, but they read a conspiratorial mood into this influence. According to the inspectors, this mood was particularly strong among the Maronite councillors and was backed by the Maronite Church and, therefore, the French Consulate in Beirut. Their report, however, though very informative on military matters and useful in fiscal matters, is clearly not cognizant of the intricacies of Lebanese politics.

81. Hence their efforts to influence and appease the mutineers, and their acknowledgment of the need for redistribution of the tax burden, in the minutes mentioned in note 74 above.

82. See al-Hakim, 148-219 and 228-255; and Kawtharani, 259-269. Compare the entries from Z 1332 to N 1333 (Nov. 1914-Aug. 1915) in GG 1019. Also see CL 7/292: nos. 1-13, 10 R-27 C 1333 (Feb.-May 1915). Actually, the pressure on the people of Mount Lebanon had begun to build from August 1914 onward, with the eruption of the war and the central government's mobilization orders. See esp. CL 7/286: nos. 9-14, 30-38, and 43, N-Za 1332; CL 7/277-5: nos. 45, 49-52, 61, and 67-68, L-Z 1332; CL 7/277-6: nos. 1-5, 8-9, 30-32; Za-Z 1332; and entries for N-L 1332 in GG 1019 (Aug.-Oct. 1914).

6 Judicial Organization as a Mechanism of Social Consolidation

1. Among these stipulations were such general principles as the openness of hearings to the public and the obligation to keep minutes (1864: art. 12), or specific issues such as the procedures to be observed in crimes involving residents of neighboring provinces (art. 13), or authorization of the bishoprics to decide on disputes between clerics (art. 17). All the references to the Règlement in this chapter are to its 1864 version, unless stated otherwise. For the text of the 1864 Règlement , as well as its original (1861) version, see the works mentioned in note 63 of Chapter 1.

2. Problems concerning commercial litigations will not be dealt with here. For a brief coverage of this issue, see Spagnolo, France , 42, 284-285, and GG 1015: pp. 165-169.

3. Spagnolo, France , 85-86 and 90-91.

4. The sheikhs were also the electors of the district representatives in the Administrative Council, as discussed in Chapter 4. Actually, most of the complaints or problems which reached Istanbul concerning the sheikhs were related not to their regular role as justices of the peace but to their electoral function, which became important once in every six years. For example, see YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 54/1 and 54/2; YEE: 35/439/132/105, defter 1, pp. 33-36; GG 1013: pp. 93-95; CL 4/159: nos. 1-31, 1321-24 (1903-1906); and CL 5/200: nos. 1-9, 1325-28 (1907-1910). For measures taken by Muzaffer Pasha to improve the methods used in the election of the sheikhs themselves, see Chapter 4 (p. 94). I have come across in the Ottoman Archives only one important document which is critical of the system of village sheikhs as stipulated in the 1864 Règlement . This is a petition signed by "the Muslims of Mount Lebanon" and most probably written by Mustafa Arslan. It criticizes the Maronite efforts to turn Dair al-Qamar into a full-fledged district with a representative of its own in the Administrative Council. The petitioners argue that

if these efforts persist, then they would demand the restoration of the pre-1864 system of sheikhs, i.e., the election of a sheikh for each confessional group in each canton by the members of that group. For this polemical but quite interesting document, see CL 1/20: no. 21, 19 M 1315 (June 1897).

5. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 2-5, 26 M 1301 (Nov. 1883); and defter 2, pp. 14-18, 4 Sh 1302 (May 1885).

6. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 2-5, 26 M 1301 (Nov. 1883); and defter 2, pp. 2-3, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884). Also see YEE: 18/527/13/31, IIc, 20 Ra 1301 (Jan. 1884); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 119, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884).

7. In addition to the documents mentioned in the previous note, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 2, 25 Za 1300 (Sept. 1883), and p. 5, 26 M 1301 (Nov. 1883). Also see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 14-18, 4 Sh 1302 (May 1885); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 1, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884). According to the arrangement introduced by Vasa, there could be no more than one judge from each sect in each of the district courts. However, Vasa kept two Maronite judges in Kisrawan and Dair al-Qamar, where the overwhelming majority of the population was Maronite. Still, in conformity to the measures he himself introduced, there should have been a Greek Orthodox judge in the former and a Jewish one in the latter. Only several years later, upon persistent pressure from the Greek Orthodox Church (through the Porte), did Vasa make the necessary replacement in the Kisrawan court. See YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 103, 21 Sh 1308 (Apr. 1891); and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 83, 18 L 1308 (May 1891); compare CL 1/20: nos. 15-18 (March-May 1891).

8. GG 1016: 2 M 1301 (Nov. 1883); CL 1/20: nos. 1-6, 22 Z 1300-2 M 1301 (Oct.-Nov 1883), correspondence between the Porte, the State Council, and Mount Lebanon.

9. See the documents mentioned in notes 6-8 above; CL 1/10: 20 Ca 1302 (Feb. 1885) from the State Council to the grand vizier; and, especially, YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 5-6, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884), a ''private" letter from Vasa to the Palace. In the last-mentioned document, Vasa raises an interesting point against the official counsels: There were eight courts of first instance and one Central Court in the Mountain. If six counsels were elected to each one, that would make a body of 54 elected officials. Add to that the 12 members of the Administrative Council, and the number of elected officials would reach 66, excluding the village sheikhs. Aside from the fact that paying salaries to so many officials was an unbearable burden on Mount Lebanon's budget, their election would totally politicize its administration, rendering it hopelessly difficult and complicated to run. Hamdi Pasha supported Vasa's point of view: see CL 1/20: no. 8, 1 Sh 1302 (May 1885).

10. Spagnolo, France , 85-86 and 91-92.

11. YEE: 35/429/122/105, defter 1, pp. 2-5, 26 M 1301 (Nov. 1883); and GG 1013: p. 57, 27 S 1288 (May 1871).

12. AYNIYAT no. 866: 7 S 1292 (March 1875). Also see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 14-18.

13. See Chapter 2 above; and Spagnolo, France , 146-147 and passim.

14. For these modifications, see AYNIYAT no. 866: 7 S 1292 (March 1875); YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 2-5; and YEE: 18/527/13/31, IIc, 20 Ca 1301 (Jan. 1884). Also see the documents mentioned in note 16 below. AYNIYAT no. 866, covering the period from May 1867 to Feb. 1877, includes many criminal cases and gives a good idea of the operation of the Central Court. For reforms in the Ottoman judicial system, see Hifzi Veldet Velidedeoglu, "Kanunlastirma Hareketleri ve Tanzimat," in Tanzimat (Istanbul, 1940), 139-209.

15. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 1-5, 7 L and 25 Za 1300, and 26 M 1301 (Aug.-Nov. 1883). Also see YEE: 18/527/13/31, IIc, 20 Ra 1301 (Jan. 1884); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, varak 119, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884).

16. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 2-5 and 7, and defter 2, pp. 14-18.

17. Article 8 stated that "the decrees of the Grand Judicial Council could not be executed unless the procedures which prevailed elsewhere in the Ottoman State were fulfilled." As the first part of this article was on criminal cases, apparently its latter clause was interpreted to have applied only to criminal cases. At least one document (before Vasa's modifications), however, suggests that some civil cases were appealable. See AYNIYAT no. 866: 27 Za 1292 (Dec. 1875).

18. See the documents mentioned in notes 8 and 9 above; and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 14-18.

19. YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 119, 26 R 1301 (Feb. 1884); and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 14-18, same date.

20. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 22-23, 12 C 1304 (March 1887). Compare Spagnolo, France , 117-118.

21. Communications dated 27 L 1302 (Aug. 1885) and 13 N 1303 (June 1886) referred to and summarized in YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 22-23. Also see CL 1/20: nos. 7-13, 29 Sh 1302-13 B 1303 (June 1885-Apr. 1886), correspondence of the Porte, the ministries of Justice and Interior, and the State Council. It must be added that a similar situation emerged also at the level of the district courts as part of Vasa's efforts to introduce the procedural laws with minimal financial burden on the mutasarrifiyya 's already strained budget and with maximum attention to maintaining the balance between different denominations. At the district courts, inquisitorial functions were assigned to the two deputy judges who were to alternate in the role for six-month periods. See Isma'il Haqqi, 641; and CL 1/20: no. 33, 4 Tem. 1313 (July 1897), from Naum to the Porte.

22. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 22-23, 12 C 1304 (March 1887).

23. GG 1013: pp. 105-106, 15 Aug. 1892.

24. GG 1013: pp. 111-112, 29 M 1310 (Aug. 1892).

25. For the correspondence between European ambassadors, the Foreign Ministry, the Porte, the Legal Counseling Office, and Naum on judicial organization, see CL 1/20: nos. 25-33, 4 S-2 Ra 1315 (July-Aug. 1897). For the protocols of 1897, 1902, 1907, and 1912, see GG 1013: pp. 153-154, 160-161, and 165-167.

26. See Chapters 2 and 3 above and Shorrock, French Imperialism , passim.

27. On the reforms introduced by the French in 1934: Salibi, Modern History , 178; for the situation during the Great War: Isma'il Haqqi, 641-642; for "single-judge jurisdiction": Jawad Ossyran, "Civil Procedure," in The Lebanese Legal System , ed. A. E. el-Gemayel, 108-109. Since the Ottoman civil and criminal procedural laws were adaptations from their French counterparts to begin with (see Ülkü Azrak, "Tanzimat'tan sonra Resepsiyon," in Tanzimat'tan Cumhuriyet'e Türkiye Ansiklopedisi 3: 602-606), this must also have been a reason for the French to retain the court system that developed during the mutasarrifiyya period.

28. On reforms and personnel problems of the Ottoman judicial system in general, see Stanford Shaw and Ezel Shaw, History of the Ottoman Empire and Modern Turkey (Cambridge, 1977), vol. 2: 246-249; and the articles by Velidedeoglu, Mustafa Belgesay, and Tahir Taner in Tanzimat , 139-232.

29. See Chapter 2 above; YEE: 14/244/126/7, Hüseyin Riza Pasha's report, 8 Sh 1305 (April 1888); and Spagnolo, France , 53-137 and passim.

30. Shaw and Shaw, vol. 2: 246-247.

31. YEE: 18/417/3/40, 9 M 1300 (Nov. 1882), Hamdi Pasha's report.

32. Hüseyin Riza's report mentioned in note 29; and Spagnolo, France , 147.

33. Hamdi Pasha's report mentioned in note 31. For similar observations of Vasa: YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 119, 26 R 1301; YEE: 18/527/13/31, IIc, 20 Ra 1301; YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 2-5, and defter 2, pp. 2-3.

34. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, p. 9, 7 Sh 1301 (June 1884). Also see Hüseyin Riza's report mentioned in note 29.

35. See the documents mentioned in note 4 above. Compare Chapter 2 (pp. 48-57), Chapter 4 (pp. 88-91), and Spagnolo, France , 188-189.

36. GG 1013: pp. 93-94, telegram dating 5 Tem. 1308 (17 July 1892).

37. For the legislation referred to in the petition mentioned above, see Findley, Bureaucratic Reform , 273 and 395 n. 154; Düstûr , 1st series, vol. 5: 235-250, and Belgesay in Tanzimat , 216.

38. GG 1013: p. 105, article 5 of the protocol.

39. GG 1013: pp. 111-113; and GG 1016: 29 M 1310 (Aug. 1892).

40. Spagnolo, France , 193.

41. For complaints about Naum's attitude toward the judges, see CL 1/20: nos. 34-36 (June 1897), and CL 3/107: nos. 21 and 45 (Jan. 1902); on the ambassadors' inquiry, see CL 1/20: no. 27 (July 1897); for Naum's defense, CL 1/20: nos. 32-33 (July 1897); and for the 1902 protocol, GG 1013: pp. 154. For other complaints related to judicial affairs under Naum, see GG 1016: 18 B, 21 L and 7 Z 1310; 25 R and 24 Za 1311; 12 M and 16 C 1312 (1893-94); these complaints, however, clearly resulted from procedural ambiguities.

42. Spagnolo, France , 228, and CL 1/37: no. 71, form Muzaffer to the Porte, 8 Za 1320 (Feb. 1903), here pp. 1-2.

43. GG 1016: from the Porte to Muzaffer, 6 M 1321 (Apr. 1903).

44. Spagnolo, France , 228; and al-Mallah, 115-119 and 298-303.

45. GG 1016: 16 Za 1323 (Jan. 1906); and CL 1/21: nos. 18-20, 25 Sh-16 Za 1323 (Oct. 1905-Jan. 1906). Compare al-Mallah, 298-303; the local sources Mallah quotes indicate that Muzaffer was really caught between local rivalries to the extent of being manipulated by them. Consequently, at times he reappointed to new posts judges who were earlier dismissed for misconduct, or he appointed to judgeships people with highly dubious qualifications. Mallah, following Shakib Arslan, points to the conduct of Muzaffer's advisors and the weakness of their public consciousness as the difficulties involved in putting the legal and administrative affairs of Mount Lebanon into order.

46. GG 1019: 6 Haz. 1327 (June 1911), and 17 Mayis 1325 (May 1909). For the measures referred to by the State Council, see Belgesay, in Tanzimat , 215-219, and Shaw and Shaw, vol. 2: 246-249. As early as 1872, Ahmed Cevdet Pasha, the leading Ottoman jurist, was emphasizing the importance of the separation of executive and juridical authorities. See his report published in Târîh-i Osmânî Encümeni Mecmû'asi , no. 44 (Haz. 1333 [1917]): 101-105.

47. See Chapters 2 and 3 above.

7 Confessionalism, Notables, and Administrative Positions

1. There were occasional exceptions to the rule. Vasa, for instance, employed his son-in-law Kupelyan Efendi as a director of foreign relations. There were also a few people from Beirut, Tripoli, and other neighboring towns employed in government service. A good example would be the Greek Orthodox Yusuf al-Hakim from Tripoli, employed as the director of Turkish correspondence during Ohannes' governorship.

2. Isma'il Haqqi, 600-616, and Cuinet, 224-232. See Chapters 2 and 3 above on efforts to develop communications under different governors.

3. A list of all government positions is given in Sâlnâme . Committees responsible for administration of the municipalities are also included in this list.

4. In 1861, Mount Lebanon was divided into six districts. In 1864, the large district of Kisrawan in the north was subdivided into the districts of Kisrawan and Batrun.

5. GG 1013: p. 59, 12 Za 1288 (Jan. 1872).

6. See the documents mentioned by Gökbilgin in "Dürzîler," in Islâm Ansiklopedisi , for initial complaints; and CL 1/20: no. 21, 19 M 1315 (June 1897), for the petition mentioned in Chapter 6, note 4. Dair al-Qamar was recognized as a district in accordance with the protocol of 1912.

7. On two occasions the governors expressed a desire to make revisions in the administrative divisions, but the Porte discouraged such requests in the belief that the arrangements made under Davud Pasha and Franko Pasha had proven to be viable and stable. See GG 1016: 1 and 16 R 1310 (Oct.-Nov. 1892), and 4 L 1322 (Dec. 1904). Some revisions in the village boundaries were made, however, by the decision or with the approval of the Administrative Council. For a detailed description of the administrative divisions, see Isma'il Haqqi, 53-71; Sâlnâme , and Cuinet, 234-281.

8. See, for instance, the reaction of the Church to some of Muzaffer's appointments in al-Mallah, 252. On the exception of technical positions from the rule, see al-Khuri, vol. 1: 30.

9. The French version of the Règlement says "feudal privileges." The official Ottoman-Turkish and Arabic versions omit the word "feudal." Kawtharani's argument (74-75), following Chevallier, that land-tenure relations in Lebanon imply at best a mild form of feudalism, and hence the concept was alien to the people of the area, is of some relevance here. But for a review of the debate on "feudalism" in Mount Lebanon, see Schölch, 130-145. On the muqâta'ajis in general, see Chapter 1 above.

10. GG 1013: p. 44, the grand vizier's response of 8 R 1278 to Davud's letter of 2 R 1278 (Oct. 1861). Compare the letter dated 8 Ca 1278 (Nov. 1861) in the same register.

11. YEE: 18/417/3/40, 11 Za 1300 (Sept. 1883), from Hamdi Pasha to the Porte; YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 27-29, 10 S 1305 (Oct. 1887), from Vasa to the Porte; and YEE: 14/244/126/7, 8 Sh 1305 (April 1888), Hüseyin Riza's reports. For the uprising in Kisrawan of the peasants against the notables in 1858, see Chapter 1 above and the works mentioned in notes 56 and 57 of that chapter.

12. GG 1013: pp. 44-45, 7 L 1278 (April 1862).

13. GG 1014: 7 Ra 1287 (June 1870).

14. See Chapters 1 and 2. Compare Spagnolo, France , 53-149 passim.

15. See, for instance, GG 1014: 23 C 1290 (Aug. 1873); and the documents mentioned in note 77 of Chapter 2.

16. For an assessment of the Church's position between the peasants and the notables in the 1850s and 1860s, see Kawtharani, 61-91. The Ottoman documents on land disputes in Mount Lebanon offer little infor-

mation on the situation of the peasants. Besides, it is difficult to make proper use of the Ottoman documents on land disputes without supplementary information from local sources or a very good knowledge of the local scene and personalities--which I do not have.

17. That the distribution of the tax burden favored the Maronites remained a cause of complaint to the end of the mutasarrifiyya ; see Chapter 6 (esp. p. 122). Compare YEE: 14/244/126/7, 8 Sh 1305 (April 1888), Hüseyin Riza's reports.

18. Spagnolo, France , 67-70.

19. GG 1014: 26 Ra 1284 (July 1867), and 19 R 1285 (Aug. 1868).

20. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 27-29, 10 S 1305 (Oct. 1887), Vasa's report. On the cooperation between Davud and 'Aun, see Spagnolo, France , 61-62 and 105.

21. Tarabain, 73-74.

22. GG 1014: 15 Ca-25 C 1285 (Sept.-Oct. 1868). Compare Tarabain, 246-250, on Druze notables during this period.

23. YEE: 18/417/3/40, 15 Z 1300 (Oct. 1883), Hamdi Pasha's report.

24. See Hamdi Pasha's report mentioned above. Hamdi Pasha was sympathetic toward the Druze. His account of Mustafa is hence all the more credible. On Mustafa's appointment, see Rustum, Lubnân , 162.

25. See Chapter 6, note 43, for mahsûl fee; and al-Khuri, vol. 1: 42-43. Compare Vasa's memoranda mentioned in notes 27 and 28 below.

26. Spagnolo, France , 145-146 and 169-170, and Chapters 2 and 6 above.

27. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, p. 9, 7 Sh 1301 (June 1884), from Vasa to the Interior Ministry.

28. YEE: 34/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 36-38, 17 Za 1304 (Aug. 1887).

29. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 25-27, 9 and 23 Sh 1304 (May 1887); and defter 2, pp. 27-29, 10 S 1305 (Oct. 1887).

30. See Chapter 2, note 77.

31. See, for instance, YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, p. 6, 11 S 1301 (Dec. 1883); defter 2, p. 8, 22 B 1301 (May 1884); and defter 1, pp. 10-11, 23 M 1303 (Oct. 1885).

32. See Akarli, "Abdulhamid II's Attempt."

33. See YEE: 31/27-8/27/79, memorandum from Ahmed Cevdet Pasha to Abdulhamid II, 16 M 1310 (Aug. 1892). Cevdet wrote this memorandum to warn the sultan against advocating Selim Melhame, a Maronite Ottoman statesman close to the sultan, for the governorship of Mount Lebanon. See GG 1013: p. 102, 11 Tem. 1308 (July 1892), Ismail Kemal Pasha's letter on the same issue. Another document, YEE: 30/2206/51/78, 21 Ra 1317 (July 1899), makes clear that some Lebanese, evidently of not-so-distinctive ancestry, kept soliciting the central government to obtain the title of "amir," which inspired respect in Mount Lebanon. The govern-

ment refused to grant such titles in principle, on the basis of article 5 of the Règlement . On one occasion, however, the sultan bestowed the title of "pasha," as an honorific and not a real rank, to Habib Sa'ad for his efforts in a relief campaign; see al-Hakim, 162, and Walid 'Awad, 65-66.

34. A glance at the list of available officials in the almanac of the mutasarrifiyya printed in Vasa's time ( Sâlnâme ) should illustrate the point. Also see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, p. 7, 7 Ca 1302 (Feb. 1885).

35. I use "statehood" after J. P. Nettl, "The State as a Conceptual Variable," World Politics 20 (July 1968), 559-592. Also see Gabriel Ben-Dor, 1-33. A strong tradition of statehood may help produce a strong modern political center, though not necessarily a modern participative political regime; see Akarli and Ben-Dor, "Comparative Perspectives," in Political Participation in Turkey (Istanbul, 1975), 157-161.

36. Personnel problems related to the districts of Zahla, Kura, and other predominantly Orthodox and Greek Catholic areas appear rarely in Ottoman sources. I take this to indicate the relative smoothness in the handling of personnel problems of these communities. The Shiite areas were dispersed in districts under Maronite and Druze district governors, and they appear to have been affected by intra-Maronite and intra-Druze politics. On judgeships, see Chapter 6.

37. For specific events, see the previous chapters.

38. A glance at the quotations given in Khater's work should suffice to illustrate the "fineness" of political polemics in Lebanese literature. Petitions are numerous, as earlier chapters indicate. For Vasa's comments, see YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 93-94, 17 M 1308 (Sept. 1890).

39. This is evident in many works. One of the most detailed accounts of the cliques for the more recent years is al-Hakim, 42-58 and passim.

40. For Tuaini, see the documents in CL 1/20 and CL 3/107; and Spagnolo, France , 193-201.

41. The Shihabs had good contacts at the Palace, and the Junblats had contacts with the British, though these were not as solid and powerful as those of the Arsland and Khazins.

42. See al-Mallah, 372, and Kawtharani, 177.

43. On the rapprochement between the Arslans and the Junblats, see Spagnolo, France , 237 and 249.

44. See al-Hakim, passim. Hakim, himself a bureaucrat, praises the officials and is cynical of the politicians. For the democratic-participative quality of Lebanese polity, see the chapter on the Administrative Council above and also Sulaiman Kan'an's memoranda mentioned in Chapter 8 (pp. 181-182).

45. Touma (338) mentions that of the 37 people who served as district governors from 1864 to 1914, 23 (62%) came from "feudal" and the rest (38%) from "bourgeois" families; and of the 377 people who served as subdistrict governors, 260 (77%) came from "feudal" and 77 (23%) from

"peasant" families. He does not take into consideration, however, the differences among the so-called feudal families and the changes over the years.

8 The Government and the Church

1. GG 1013: pp. 64-67, from Rüstem to the Foreign Ministry, 20 Dec. 1879. For background on the berâts issued to religious dignitaries, see Inalcik, "The Status of the Greek Orthodox Patriarch." For a general discussion on the position of non-Muslims in the Ottoman State, see the Introduction in Braude and Lewis, eds., Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Empire , 1-34. On developments during the Tanzîmât era, see Davison, 114-135.

2. Harik, Politics and Change , 19, 79-80, 85-87, and 125-126; compare notes 3 and 5 below.

3. GG 1013: pp. 64-67.

4. Salibi, Modern History , 74-75, and Harik, Politics and Change , 120 ff.

5. GG 1013: pp. 64-67; and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 72-73, 17 N 1307 (May 1890), Vasa's memorandum.

6. Kerr, 22-25, and Havemann, 223-243. Also see Chapter 1 above.

7. Spagnolo, France , 52-76, 84-85, and 97-115. Compare Chapter 2 above.

8. See Vasa's account: YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 72-73, 17 N 1307 (May 1890). Compare Spagnolo, France , 114. Franko was one of Fuad Pasha's assistants during the latter's special mission to Mount Lebanon in 1860. Franko's friendship with Bulus Mas'ad dated from those days; see Farah, "Problem," 294, and Khater, 36-37.

9. For Rüstem's account, see GG 1013: pp. 64-67, Dec. 1879. Compare YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 15-16, 24 Za 1303 (Aug. 1886); and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 143, 8 N 1309 (April 1892), for church-state relations during Rüstem's governorship. The Porte's approval is referred to retrospectively in GG 1016: 8 Z 1309 (July 1892) and 16 S 1311 (Aug. 1893). Also see the letter dated 5 M 1304 (Oct. 1886) in the same register.

10. See Chapter 2 (pp. 43-45) on the relations between Rüstem and the Maronite Church. Istafan 'Awad was still a bishop with full powers in 1891; see YEE: 35/429/122/104, varak 117 and its appendices.

11. Spagnolo mentions this incident in France , 185. The absence of any reference to this issue in Vasa's numerous letters, even when he talks about Zughbi's activities--as in YEE: 35/436/122/105, defter 2, pp. 38-39, 7 Za 1307--is meaningful. For Vasa's early hopes and later developments concerning his relations with the Church, see Chapter 2 (pp. 47-51).

12. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 57-58, and defter 2, p. 35, 6 Ca

1306; defter 1, p. 58, 18 C 1306; defter 2, pp. 40-41, and defter 1, pp. 66-67; and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 90 and 121, 18 R-28 C 1307, and varaks 81-83, 19 Ca-15 B 1306 (Jan. 1889-Feb. 1890).

13. On the dioceses, see Harik, Politics and Change , 296. On the patriarch's response, see Spagnolo, France , 185-186.

14. YEE: 35/2332/43/110, no. Ie, 25 Sh 1307, and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 70-71, and defter 2, pp. 40-41, 10 N 1307 (Apr. 1890). Also see Spagnolo, France , 186-187.

15. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 71-72, 11 N 1307, and pp. 72-73, 17 N 1307; and YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 96 and 122, 22 Ni. 1306 and 13 L 1307 (April-May 1890). Also see the documents mentioned in the previous note.

16. YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 122, 13 L 1307 (June 1890), the Porte's inquiry; and YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 38-39, 7 Za 1307 (June 1890), Vasa's response.

17. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 75-76, 7 Za 1307, and defter 2, pp. 38-39, same date (June 1890).

18. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 2, pp. 38-39, 7 Za 1307 (June 1890), to the Palace.

19. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 75-77, and defter 2, pp. 38-39, 7-19 Za 1307 (June-July 1890). For relations between the Vatican and Paris, also see Spagnolo, France , 186-187.

20. YEE: 35/439/122/125, defter 1, pp. 78-79, and defter 2, pp. 39-40, 21 Sh-20 N 1308 (April 1891), Vasa's letters to the Porte and the Palace. Compare CL 1/35.

21. YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 80-83, 27 N-18 L 1307, and YEE: 35/429/122/104, no. 123, 12 L 1308, and no. 113, 27 Mayis 1308 (May-June 1891). YEE: 35/429/122/104, nos. 130, 132, 133, 93, 143, 112, 113, and 115, 11 R 1309-19 Za 1309 (Nov. 1891-June 1892), Vasa's letters and telegrams to the Porte and the Palace. See Spagnolo, France , 187, on the pressure France put on Hajj, and the outspoken dissatisfaction of the consul with the small number of people cheering for him in his visit to the Patriarchate in February 1892, and how in May 1892 "he pointedly found a pretext for a second visit during which time he was pleased to observe the customary public manifestations of allegiance."

22. GG 1016: 8 Z 1309 (July 1892).

23. GG 1016: 8 Z 1309 and 3 S 1310 (July-Aug. 1892).

24. GG 1016: 16 S 1311 (Aug. 1893), Ahmed Cevad Pasha responding to Naum's letter of 10 M 1311 (July 1893). Ahmed Cevad was a military general by background and a centrist in his domestic policy.

25. For the correspondence between Naum and the Porte, see GG 1016: 9 L 1316 (Feb. 1899). On Huwayyik's election and Najm's supporters, see Spagnolo, France , 201-202 and 231. On the improvement in Ottoman-French relations during this period, see Chapter 3 (p. 59). The paucity of

documents on this issue dating from Naum's period is itself an indication of the good relations between the Church and the governor.

26. See al-Mallah, 372. Mallah thinks Muzaffer took the lead in the establishment of these societies. From other information he supplies, however, it is clear that the initiative was native, and Muzaffer simply encouraged the efforts.

27. CL 3/118: no. 37, 22 L 1322 (Dec. 1904). Compare no. 36, 18 N 1322 (Nov. 1904), and no. 25, 4 B 1322 (Sept. 1904). On relations between the Church and Muzaffer, also see Chapter 3.

28. On the patriarch's visit to Istanbul, see CL 3/144: nos. 1-35 (Sept. 1905-Jan. 1906).

29. Spagnolo, France , 232.

30. Harik, Politics and Change , 127-166; Salibi, House ; and Hourani, Emergence , 149-169.

31. Yusuf Dibs, the bishop of Beirut, comes to mind in this context.

32. See Patriarch Huwayyik's statement in al-Mallah, 392. This was the attitude of Patriarch Mas'ad as well. In fact, the Patriarchate's position on this matter seems to have changed little as late as the 1960s. See Michael Hudson, The Precarious Republic (New York, 1968), 130. Hudson's account shows clearly that the struggle between the government and the Church continued in the Republic along lines not dissimilar to the situation in the mutasarrifiyya . Compare Kawtharani, 308-309; and Meir Zamir, The Formation of Modern Lebanon (Ithaca, N.Y., 1985), 62-63. David Kerr's Ph.D. dissertation (Oxford University) seems to be the best study of relations between the patriarch and the president of the Republic, but this work was not available to me.

33. It is possible to trace this development in the petitions presented to the Porte. The earlier petitions were almost exclusively drafted by the clergy, and the clergy led the campaign for collecting signatures for them. Gradually, lay leaders initiated campaigns on their own account. The development of a secular concept of Lebanon in more recent petitions is unmistakable.

34. See Spagnolo, France , 233-235, 265-266, and 276, for the French diplomats' opinions of the "liberal" group and the Quai d'Orsay's policy of not receiving Maronites who had not made themselves known through the auspices of the Patriarchate. Also see al-Hakim, 24, who argues that Habib Sa'ad, one of the principal leaders of the liberal group, became fully committed to the French in 1913, in return for their support of his vice-presidency of the Council. Daud 'Ammun, another liberal councillor, like-wise became committed to the French.

35. See al-Hakim, 56, 100-102; compare 277-282. Hakim is clearly praising the Church dignitaries and the patriarch in language they would like to hear.

36. The biggest changes which the Ottoman government introduced

pertained to the judiciary organization. Isma'il Haqqi, 642, however, makes it clear that these changes were not yet implemented as of 1916-17. Another implication of direct Ottoman rule was the enforcement of Ottoman laws. Efforts were made to translate the relevant laws not yet applied in Mount Lebanon; see al-Hakim, 217-219. There was no time, however, for the proper implementation of these laws, except some which pertained to the administration of public forests and property. An effort was made to form a public education department, which did not exist in Mount Lebanon, but it was only partly successful; see Isma'il Haqqi, 594-599.

37. See Sulaiman Kan'an's memorandum in The Political History of Lebanon, 1920-1950 , ed. Walter L. Browne (Salisbury, N. C., 1976), vol. 1: 6; also see vol. 1: 16 for another memorandum by Kan'an.

38. See al-Hakim on changes in the offices, 165-169, 172, 175, 178-179, 182-184, 228-230; on difficulties, 249-255. On the trials, see CL 7/292: nos. 1-13 (Feb.-May 1915); Muhâkamât , 259-278; Nicholas Z. Ajay, ''Political Intrigue and Suppression in Lebanon during World War I," IJMES 5 (1974): 140-160; and al-Hakim, 233-242.

39. CL 7/277-5: nos. 67-68, and CL 7/277-6: nos. 4-5 and 31-32, Za 1332 (Oct. 1914). Hakim, 172-174, mentions a second inquiry by the military authorities in Damascus, but the governor kept the summons and took no action on it.

40. See al-Hakim, 278-280, for a full translation of the berât in Arabic.

41. Ajay, 140-160, and Zamir, 36 and 230 n. 91.

42. Zamir, 38-72; Kawtharani, 285-326; and Khairiyya Qasimiyya, al-Hukûmat al-'arabiyya fi Dimashq bain 1918-1920 (Cairo, 1971), 46-156.

43. For the text of the resolution, see 'Abd al-'Aziz Nawwar, ed., Wathâiq asâsiyya min târîkh Lubnân al-hadîth, 1517-1920 (Beirut, 1974), 520-522, and al-Khuri, vol. 1: 269-271.

44. Zamir, 53-54; Kawtharani, 303-306 and 344-345; and Jurj (Georges) Adib Karam, ed., Qadiyya Lubnân, 1918-1920 (Beirut, 1985), vol. 1: 310-326. For a detailed study of developments leading to the establishment of Greater Lebanon, also see Ahmad R. Haffar, "France in the Establishment of Greater Lebanon" (Ph.D. diss., Princeton University, 1961), 207-300.

45. The Council's resolution dated 20 May 1920 quoted in Nawwar, 528-529, and al-Khuri, vol. 1: 272-273.

46. Quotation from Huwayyik's memorandum to the Peace Conference, dated 25 Oct. 1919, where he describes his "mission"; see Nawwar, 530. See Zamir, 70-71, on the Council's resolution dated June 16 on this matter; and Karam, 327-338, for related news and documents.

47. See al-Khuri, vol. 1: 96.

48. Zamir, 70-72; Kawtharani, 308-310; and Nawwar, 530-531. Compare Haffar, 230-232.

49. Kawtharani, 323-340; Qasimiyya, 145-156 and 189-193; and Zamir, 72-89, 67-69, and 93-94.

50. For the text of the resolution, see Nawwar, 534-537. For the French translation, see Zamir, 281-284. Compare Haffar, 262-263.

51. Zamir, 62-63, 72, 78, 89, 91, 95; Kawtharani, 343; and compare Clemenceau's letter to Huwayyik in Nawwar, 532-533, for the assurance of the patriarch. However, the patriarch obtained the mandate of the Council concerning the third delegation; see Karam, 340-342.

52. Nawwar, 541.

53. Browne, vol. 1: 11; Kawtharani, 335-336; and al-Khuri, vol. 1: 103-104.

54. Kawtharani, 344-345; Zamir, 89-91; and Haffar, 262-263.

55. Of the 13 elected members of the Council, 7 were with this group. Their names and constituencies are as follows: Sa'adallah Huwayyik, Maronite, Batrun; Sulaiman Kan'an, Maronite, Jazzin; Khalil 'Aql, Maronite, Matn; Fuad 'Abd al-Malik, Druze, Matn; Mahmud Junblat, Druze, Shuf; Ilias Shuairi, Greek Orthodox, Matn; and Muhammad Muhsin, Shiite, Kisrawan. Yusuf Baridi, Greek Catholic, Zahla, was with the group; he explicitly expressed his solidarity with them, but was at home sick as the others signed the resolution and left for Damascus (see Kawtharani, 346). Husain al-Hajjar, Sunni, Matn, and Niqula Ghusn, Greek Orthodox, Kura, did not participate in the meetings of the group (but see note 62 below). One position (the Maronite representative of Kisrawan) was vacant. Daud 'Ammun, Maronite, Dair al-Qamar, and the other Druze representative of Shuf (Tawfiq Arslan?) definitely opposed the resolution, as did the appointed chairman of the Council, Habib Sa'ad, Maronite.

56. For the text of the resolution, see Browne, vol. 1: 9-19; Zamir, 285-286; and Nawwar, 542-544.

57. Al-Khuri, vol. 1: 105-107; Qasimiyya, 193-194; Zamir, 89-90; and Kawtharani, 344-347; quotation of the official decree from Kawtharani, 347. On French financial assistance to the first delegation, see Zamir, 52. The councillors were accused of having been bribed by Faisal. They actually seem to have received the money for their expenses from a Lebanese merchant.

58. I owe this observation to Zamir, 91. See Kawtharani, 348, for Gouraud's decision to dissolve the Council.

59. Kawtharani, 351-354; Haffar, 292-295; Zamir, 93-96; and al-Khuri, vol. 1: 107-116. For Millerand's letter to the patriarch's envoy, see al-Khuri, vol. 1: 284-285, and Nawwar, 546-548.

60. For the full text of Kan'an's memorandum, see Browne, vol. 1: 1-8. There is no date on the memorandum, but the Conference on the Limitation of Armaments to which it was presented met in Washington, D.C., from 12 November 1921 to 6 February 1922. Also see another memorandum by Kan'an, presented to the United States secretary of state in Janu-

ary 1922, in Browne, vol. 1: 16-20. Compare the "exposé" he and his friends sent to the French government and Parliament in Karam, 457-470.

61. For instance, Kan'an argued that "the French Military Occupation has driven thousands of Lebanese out of the country" and that the French solidiery "put men, women, and children to the sword and they loot and burn villages. . . ." He also argued that "corruption and graft infest every Department of the Government. . . ." These exaggerations are quite typical of the petitions and the polemical political literature of Lebanese, as argued above. They must be ignored without losing sight of the real issues that concern and bother the petitioner.

For a critique of Lebanese nationalist history, see Youssef Choueiri, Arab History and the Nation-State (London and New York, 1989), 115-164 and 189-205, and Salibi, House .

62. Habib Sa'ad, for instance, accused his friends of being traitors, with amazing ease. However, Husain al-Hajjar and Niqula Ghusn, who were witnesses in the trials, made quite cautious statements and were visibly concerned about their colleagues, despite the intimidating atmosphere of the military court. This intimidation, apparently combined with weakness of purpose, led to the collapse of some of the accused, notably Khalil 'Aql and Mahmud Junblat, during the investigations. On these points, see Karam, 377-379, 399-437 passim, and 448-466; Kawtharani, 347-348; and al-Khuri, vol. 1: 106-107.

63. On these intellectual activities, see Nadim Shehadi, The Idea of Lebanon (Oxford, 1987).


1. There are few Ottoman documents on the municipal administration in Mount Lebanon. On this issue, see Khair, 132-135; al-Mallah, 129-131 and 145-148; and M. Jouplain [Bulus Nujaim], La question du Liban (Paris, 1908), 492-493.

2. Ottoman documents on the organization and problems of the Lebanese security force are numerous, though I treat this issue only tangentially in the present work. The most important documents are in CL 7/275. For a general description of the organization of the security force, see Khair, 118-121; on its problems, see Spagnolo, France , 64-65, 73-76, 105-107, 238, 287, and 177; al-Mallah, 119-129; and al-Hakim, 78-83 and 176.

3. See Isma'il Haqqi, 557-599.

4. Fear of atrocities at the hands of Muslims was/is apparently part of Lebanese Christian and especially Maronite folklore. See the oft-quoted memoirs of Abraham Rihbany; Edward Atiyah, An Arab Tells His Story (London, 1946); and Gregory Orfalea, Before the Flames (Austin, 1988). There were Lebanese emigrants who earned some of their keep by telling

stories of atrocities in France and other Western countries; see my "Ottoman Attitudes." On the fears of Maronites, also see Mackey, 141-147; and Wadi Haddad, Lebanon: The Politics of Revolving Doors (New York, 1985), 9.

5. A good example is Jouplain's work mentioned in note 1 above. Also see Mémoire sur la question du Liban (Paris, 1912) of the Comité Libanais de Paris (summarized in Spagnolo, France , 276-279). Compare Haffar, 292-300.

6. Lubnân , prepared by a committee of Lebanese intellectuals and bureaucrats and published in 1918 under the auspices of Isma'il Haqqi, who was also one of the contributors, is in many ways a monumental testimony to the unfolding sense of nationhood among Lebanese intelligentsia, Christian and Muslim alike; esp. see 112-364 and 667-680 for the emerging historical vision. Isma'il Haqqi (or Ismail Hakki, as it is written in Turkish) was actually a high-ranking official in the Ottoman Interior Ministry and one of the governors appointed to Mount Lebanon after the abrogation of its privileged status in 1915; see Appendix B.

7. See the statistics given in Zamir, 98.

8. Emile Eddé appears to be the most prominent of these leaders; see Salibi, Modern History , 162-163 and 172-173; Mackey, 112; Zamir, 177; and Haffar, 292-294.

9. For general developments under the mandate regime, see Salibi, Modern History , 151-191, and Zamir, 97-223. Also see Ragid Solh, "The Attitude of the Arab Nationalists towards Greater Lebanon during the 1930s," in Lebanon , ed. Shehadi and Mills, 149-165; and C. Ernest Dawn, "The Emergence of an Arab Lebanese Self-View" (Paper delivered at conference on "Processes of Arab Self-Definition," University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, November 11-12, 1989).

10. See Nadim Shehadi's succinct treatment of the intellectual debates early in the Republican period in The Idea of Lebanon . Also see Hourani, Emergence , 170-178. Compare Zamir, 122-126.

11. Leila Fawaz's Merchants and Migrants in 19th-Century Beirut provides the socioeconomic background for such studies. Also see Michael Johnson's works mentioned in the Bibliography. The Ottoman data on Mount Lebanon clearly imply a tension between the Mountain and the city, as indicated in the preceding chapters, which should be explored more carefully than I have been able to do in this work.

12. Salamé, Lebanon's Injured Identities , 22-23; and Messarra, The Challenge of Coexistence , 4-9.

13. Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures , 294.

14. The organic statute of the dual-districts regime, though it proved impractical, antedates the Règlement , of course.

15. Gellner, Nations and Nationalism , 141-142; his emphasis. For "technicalization," see Hodgson, The Venture of Islam , vol. 3: 186-196.

16. Gellner, 37-38; his emphasis.

17. Robert Bocock, Hegemony (London and New York, 1986), 28, 34, and 37.

18. See Philip Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate (Princeton, N.J., 1987); and Zamir, 102 and 106-107.

Appendix A The Governors of Mount Lebanon, 1861–1918

1. For the establishment of this process, see my "Cebel-i Lübnan," 45-56. The Porte tried to avoid calling a formal conference on the appointments of Franko Pasha and Rüstem Pasha (in 1868 and 1873, respectively), though it sought the approval of the ambassadors. In both cases, the ambassadors obliged the Porte to call a formal conference retroactively, after the governors had already taken their positions. Hence the imperial decrees predate the protocols concerning the appointment of these two governors.

2. On these issues, see Carter Findley, Ottoman Civil Officialdom , and "The Acid Test of Ottomanism," in Christians and Jews , ed. Braude and Lewis, vol. 1: 339-368.

3. Khater, 26-27 and 34-35; Tarabain, 15-16; Rustum, Lubnân , 40-41; Kamal S. Salibi, "Dâwûd Pasha," in Encyclopaedia of Islam , new ed.; Spagnolo, France , 77, note 4; GG 1013: pp. 27-29 and 35; IRADE-Dahiliye 31822, 8 M 1278; and de Testa, vol. 6: 343-345 and 403. I have not seen P. E. Poghossian's Karapet Artin Pascha Daoud (Vienna, 1949).

4. Khater, 36-37, 40, and 45-46; Rustum, Lubnân , 116; GG 1013: pp. 48-50 and 61-62; IRADE-Dahiliye 40129, 13 S 1285; and Noradounghian, vol. 3: 278. Franko's fourth son died at a young age.

5. Khater, 47-48 and 134-135; Rustum, Lubnân , 153-154; GG 1013: pp. 61-63 and 81; and Noradoughian, vol. 3: 346-347. Compare Spagnolo, France , 136-137.

6. Khater, 139-142 and 149-150; Spagnolo, France , 168-169 and 206 n. 15; GG 1013: pp. 80-87; and Noradounghian, vol. 4: 314. Also see CL 3/118: nos. 8-16, 17 Haz.-13 Tem. 1320 (June-July 1904).

7. Khater, 151-153, 161, and 175; GG 1013: pp. 99-109 and 153; CL 1/20: nos. 27-33; YEE: 30/2199/51/78; and Noradounghian, vol. 4: 508 and 547-548. Compare Spagnolo, France , 191, who says that Naum was Armenian Catholic.

8. See al-Mallah, 73-80 and 405-406; Spagnolo, France , 222 and 229; Khater, 162 and 175; CL 3/113: nos. 1-31; GG 1013: p. 154; YEE: 30/2199/51/78; and Noradounghian, vol. 4: 599-600. Also see the documents mentioned in Chapter 3, note 42.

9. Khater, 179, 185, and 188-189; GG 1013: pp. 160-161; and Spagnolo, France , 236.

10. Khater, 190-191 and 201; GG 1013: pp. 163-167; Findley, Otto-

man Civil Officialdom , 271 n. 25; and Spagnolo, France , 285. Khater argues that Ohannes' properties were confiscated during the war; this is improbable.

11. GG 1013: p. 170; Khater, 202-209; al-Hakim, 227, 262, and 292-293; and Fuad Bustani's preface to the 2nd edition of Isma'il Haqqi's book.

Appendix B Ottoman Documents on Mount Lebanon, 1861–1918

1. General information about the various groups or categories of archival documents mentioned in this Appendix can be obtained from Midhat Sertoglu, Muhteva Bakimindan Basvekâlet Arsivi (Ankara, 1955); and Atilla Çetin, Basbakanlik Arsivi Kilavuzu (Istanbul, 1979), which are guides to the Ottoman archives.

2. M. Tayyib Gökbilgin, "1840'dan 1861'e." Gökbilgin's references are rather vague, but the names of the files he uses indicate that he relied on the sources mentioned above.

3. The registers marked by an asterisk have been made available to researchers recently. They belong to the so-called "BEO: Vilâyetler Gelen-Giden: 2" category of documents, and must be inquired about under that caption.

4. These registers also include the correspondence on Sisam (Samos), which enjoyed a special administrative status similar to that of Mount Lebanon.

5. Çetin, Basbakanlik , 120.

6. For detailed information on the Yildiz documents, see Atilla Çetin, "Yildiz Arsivi'ne Dair," IUEFTD 32 (1979): 563-586; and Stanford Shaw, "The Yildiz Palace Archives," Archivum Ottamanicum 3 (1971): 211-237.

7. See GG 1016: 24 S ve 27 Ra 1310 (Sept. and Oct. 1892).

8. See YEE: 35/439/122/105, defter 1, pp. 1-2, 7 L 1300 (Aug. 1883); and GG 1019: 11 S 1327 (March 1909) and 6 Mayis 1325 (1909). Also see the previous note.


Archival Sources

A. Basbakanlik (Prime Ministry) Archives, Istanbul

Archival material used in this study is mostly from the following document collections of Basbakanlik (Prime Ministry) Archives in Istanbul:

1. Bâb-i 'Âlî Evrâk Odasi Tasnîfi , papers of the Sublime Porte Secretariat:

a. 'Ayniyât Defterleri , registers of duplicates, containing copies of letters from the grand vizier's office, defter (register) no. 866.

b. Gelen-Giden Defterleri , registers for incoming and outgoing correspondence between the Sublime Porte and various departments and provinces, nos. 278–283, 971, 1009–1011, 1013–1020, and 1294.

c. Mümtâze: Cebel-i Lübnân Dosyalari , files on the privileged provinces: Mount Lebanon, nos. 1/1–7/297 (317 files in all).

2. Dîvân-i Hümâyûn Evrâki , papers of the Imperial Chancery. Only the following were consulted:

a. Mühimme Defterleri , registers of important decisions and decrees, no. 261.

b. Mühimme-i Mektûme Defterleri , registers for classified decisions, no. 10.

3. Irâdeler (Irâde Tasnîfi ), imperial decrees. These were consulted selectively, to check certain information in the Dâhiliye (internal affairs), Hâriciye (external affairs), and Meclis-i Mahsûs (Privy Council) sections for the years 1860–1891 (1277–1308 h ), and in the Mâliye (finance) section for the years 1892–1908 (1310–1326).


4. Yildiz Tasnîfi: Yildiz Esâs Evrâki, Yildiz Palace archives, main Yildiz documents.

(Appendix B contains detailed information on these and other collections of Ottoman documents that include material on Lebanese history from 1860 to 1918.)

B. Foreign Office Archives in the Public Records Office, London, series F.O. 78.

C. Hâriciye (Foreign Ministry) Archives in Istanbul, Tercüme Kalemi Evrâki (papers of the Translation Office), files nos. 256/1 and 35/5.


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'Abd al-Malak, Fuad (councillor), 236 n.63, 257 n.55

Abdulaziz, Sultan (1861-1876), 197

Abdulhamid II, Sultan (1876-1909), 42 , 49 , 120 , 197 , 231 n.61;

authoritarian rule of, 68 , 72 , 202 , 223 n.81, 236 n.56;

and Mount Lebanon governors, 45 , 64 , 71 , 224 n.84, 251 n.33;

and native interests, 65 , 78 , 226 n.24, 230 n.58;

and notables, 156 ;

and Patriarch Huwayyik, 171

Abdullah Pasha (governor of Akka), 19 , 20 , 21 , 22

Abdulmecid, Sultan (1839-1861), 34

Abi-l-Lama', Khalil, 217

Abi-l-Lama', Qabalan, 236 n.63

Abi-l-Lama' family, 14 , 16 , 155 , 156 , 157

Abu Nakad family, 19

'Abud, Wadi', 123 -25, 243 n.70

Administrative Council, 2 , 54 , 56 , 58 , 64 , 72 , 115 -16, 120 -21;

and the budget crisis of 1913, 121 -23, 126 -28;

in charge of Mount Lebanon, 58 , 91 -92, 99 , 101 , 174 , 215 n.4;

composition and duties of, 82 -84, 92 , 94 , 99 -100;

deputy chairman of, 68 , 71 , 80 , 83 , 94 , 96 , 99 , 100 , 124 , 236 n.63, 255 n.34, 257 n.55;

dismissal of, 92 , 129 , 174 , 234 n.44;

and election system, 86 -87, 89 , 92 , 93 -94, 100 , 185 , 189 , 190 ;

and elections, 52 , 71 , 88 -92, 94 , 96 -97, 100 , 117 , 158 , 172 , 238 nn. 76, 77;

and fiscal administration, 53 , 60 , 68 , 80 , 83 -86, 91 , 97 , 101 , 103 , 108 , 111 -23 passim, 125 , 130 -31, 186 , 227 n.37;

and French mandate project, 175 , 177 -82;

and Maronite Church, 53 , 87 -91, 172 -74, 180 -81;

and mutiny of the security force, 124 -25, 128 , 129 , 185 ;

persecution of liberal members of, 75 -76, 94 -100, 174 , 179 -81, 235 n.56, 237 nn. 65, 66, 258 n.62;

the Règlement on, 82 -84, 86 , 88 , 92 , 94 , 103 , 123 , 130 ;

as representative of Lebanese interests and autonomy, 68 , 74 , 80 , 82 , 93 -101, 121 , 157 -61, 172 -74,


Administrative Council (continued )

189 -90;

and Syrian-Arab nationalists, 175 -76, 179 , 182 .

See also under Judiciary

Ahmed Cevad Pasha, Grand Vizier, 169 -70, 171 , 254 n.24

'Ain Dara, battle of (1711), 14 , 16

Akka (Acre), 18 , 19 , 20 , 22 , 23

'Akkar, 6 , 14 , 180

'Alam al-Din family, 13 -14

Albania, 195

Aleppo, 12 , 20 , 22 , 40 , 71 , 166 , 194 , 196 , 207 n.3, 211 n.41

Ali Münif Bey, Governor (1915-1916), 199

Âli Pasha (Ottoman statesman), 31 , 36 , 149 , 199

Amirate regime:

under Ma'ns (1593-1697), 11 -13, 108 ;

under Shihabs (1697-1841), 13 -22, 24 -27, 28 -31, 164 .

See also Ma'n, Amir Fakhr al-Din

'Ammun, Daud (councillor), 175 , 238 n.77, 255 n.34, 257 n.55

'Ammun, Salim, 96 , 236 n.63

'Ammun family, 157

Anatolia (peninsula), 11 , 41 , 117 , 174

Antilias, 53 , 220 nn.69-70, 237 n.65

'Aql, Khalil (councillor), 96 , 98 , 234 n.39, 236 n.63, 237 n.65

'Aql, Shadid (councillor), 94 -96, 98 , 99 , 234 n.39, 235 n.56, 237 n.65, 257 n.55, 258 n.62

'Aql family, 157

Arslan, Malham, 153 , 154

Arslan, Muhammad, 153

Arslan, Mustafa, 245 n.4, 251 n.24;

as district governor of Shuf, 44 , 59 , 154 , 224 n.5;

opposition to Vasa and Junblats of, 53 -57, 156 , 217 n.44, 221 n.76, 223 nn. 79, 80; 224 n.82;

support for Kusas of, 93 , 159

Arslan, Shakib, 71 , 223 n.79, 249 n.133

Arslan, Tawfik, 257 n.55

Arslan family, 13 -14, 68 -71, 154 -57, 160 , 170 , 252 n.41;

and Junblats, 69 , 70 , 154 , 160

'Aun, Bishop Tubiya, 153

Austria-Hungary (Dual Monarchy), 23 , 27 -28, 31 , 43 , 71

'Awad, Bishop Istafan, 165 , 253 n.10

al-'Azar, Fuad, 96 , 236 n.62

al-'Azar, Jirjus (councillor), 96


Ba'bda, 89 , 123 , 124

Ba'lbak, 6 , 14 , 168

Balkan Wars (1912-13), 73 , 79 , 122 , 128

Baridi, Yusuf (councillor), 236 n.62, 257 n.55

Batrun (district), 9 , 38 , 54 , 70 , 82 , 83 , 86 , 89 , 90 , 105 , 106 , 134 , 156 , 165 , 181 , 236 n.63, 244 n.79, 250 n.4, 257 n.55

Baytar, 'Assaf, 89

Beirut (city), 18 , 22 , 23 , 24 , 27 , 30 , 31 , 37 , 38 , 39 , 40 , 43 , 45 , 47 , 54 , 55 , 56 , 57 , 59 , 60 , 77 , 81 , 89 , 90 , 97 , 116 , 122 , 139 , 152 , 153 , 166 , 167 , 170 , 175 , 180 , 196 , 201 , 204 , 223 n.80, 224 n.82;

commercial court of, 79 , 133 ;

customs of, 60 , 75 , 110 , 112 , 128 ;

harbor of, 62 , 65 -67, 74 -75;

population of, 12 , 13 ;

prosperity of, 23 ;

relations of Mount Lebanon with, 7 , 60 -62, 65 -67, 74 -75, 77 , 184 ;

roads to, 7 , 28 , 53 , 60 , 66 , 77 , 113 , 119 , 154 , 220 n.69, 227 n.37


Beirut (province), 31 , 58 , 71 , 92 , 110 , 125 , 169 , 171 , 189 , 199 , 202 , 229 n.51, 231 n.66

Berlin Treaty of 1878, 42 , 43 , 49

Biqa' valley, 6 , 7 , 19 , 36 , 39 , 64 , 175 , 180 , 184 , 186 , 189

Bonaparte, Napoleon, 18

Britain, 23 , 24 , 31 , 53 -54, 175 ;

and Druze, 26 , 27 , 153 ;

and France, 28 , 43 -44, 59 , 66 , 67 , 71 , 77 , 177 ;

and Mount Lebanon's autonomy, 75 , 79 , 97 ;

and tax distribution, 107 ;

and the Union & Progress Party, 73

Bsharri, 9

Bustani, Bishop Butrus, 43 , 153


Cadastral surveys, 29 , 104 , 105 (Table 1), 107 , 121 -23, 127 , 148 , 153 , 186

Cairo, 22 , 26 , 222 n.79

Capitulations. See Ottoman trade agreements and capitulations

Cemal Pasha, 199 , 231 n.66

Cevdet Pasha, Ahmed (Ottoman statesman), 49 , 251 n.33

Cezzar Ahmed (Jazzar Ahmad) Pasha (governor of Saida), 18 , 19 , 21

Civil war:

of 1841, 27 -28;

of 1860, 1 , 3 , 6 , 13 , 29 -30, 34 , 36 , 37 , 110 , 153 , 154 , 164 , 186 , 187 ;

of 1975-89, 2 , 4 -5, 183 , 190 , 206 n.5

Confessionalism, 44 , 46 , 133 , 135 , 137 , 141 , 145 , 147 -49, 159 , 161 -62, 178 , 180 -81, 185 , 190 -92

Corruption, 52 , 53 -54, 91 , 92 , 94 , 97 -98, 131 , 141 , 144 , 158 , 185 , 233 n.38, 237 n.65


Dahdah, Bishop Nimatullah, 165

Dair al-Qamar, 7 , 19 , 43 , 100 , 105 , 106 , 134 , 135 , 148 , 153 , 245 n.4, 246 n.7, 250 n.6, 257 n.55

Damascus (city), 7 , 18 , 20 , 30 , 42 , 54 , 59 , 60 , 77 , 113 , 129 , 154 , 168 , 173 , 179 , 202 , 207 n.3, 257 n.55

Damascus (province) ("Suriye"), 11 , 13 , 14 , 17 , 22 , 31 , 36 , 39 , 40 , 44 , 64 , 66 , 67 , 71 , 88 , 108 , 110 , 141 , 154 , 169 , 200 , 201 , 211 n.41, 221 n.74

Davud Pasha, Governor (1861-1868), 33 , 36 -40, 104 , 148 , 250 n.7;

and Administrative Council, 83 -84, 86 , 87 ;

career of, 194 ;

differences with the Porte, 39 -40;

finances under, 110 ;

judiciary under, 133 -34, 136 , 141 ;

and Karam, Yusuf, 37 -38;

and Maronite clergy, 37 , 63 , 87 , 141 , 152 -53, 164 , 171 ;

and notables, 149 , 153 ;

security force under, 110

Dibs, Bishop Yusuf, 43 , 54 -57, 58 , 70 , 142 , 165 , 222 n.77, 223 nn. 79-82, 255 n.31

Druze community, 10 -11, 123 , 148 , 157 ;

Administrative Council representatives of, 58 , 82 -83, 89 , 92 , 100 , 124 , 236 n.63, 238 n.76, 257 n.55;

during the amirate regime, 13 -26;

grievances of, 54 , 56 , 87 , 107 , 114 , 153 -54;

in Hauran, 14 , 20 , 24 , 154 , 221 n.74, 221 n.76;

and judgeships, 136 , 137 .

See also Arslan, Mustafa; Junblat family

Dual-districts regime (1841-1860), 28 -30, 34 , 87 , 102 , 108 , 111 , 164 , 259 n.14

Duval, Monsignor (Apostolic legate), 170



Edirne, 45 , 196

Egypt, 11 , 12 , 17 , 18 , 20 , 22 , 23 , 43 , 44 , 210 n.31, 222 n.79

Elridge, G. J. (British consulgeneral), 53 -54

Emigration and travelers, 61 -63, 65 -67, 104 , 112 , 116 , 120 -21

European powers, 2 -3, 22 -23, 41 , 183 , 187 -88;

as guarantors of mutasarrifiyya regime, 3 , 31 , 38 -40, 58 , 67 , 71 , 75 , 79 , 97 , 99 , 103 , 119 , 121 , 122 , 130 , 135 , 137 , 139 -40, 143 , 144 , 157 , 186 , 193 .

See also Austria-Hungary; Britain; France; Germany; Italy; Protocols to the Règlement ; Russia


Faisal, Amir, 175 -76, 178 , 180 , 257 n.57

Faris, Antuan, 95 , 235 n.56

Fiscal administration:

and budgetary problems, 43 -44, 48 , 53 , 63 , 84 -85, 111 , 121 -23, 126 -29, 130 , 186 ;

and customs, 60 , 65 -67, 74 -75, 79 , 112 , 125 , 127 , 128 ;

of imperial properties, 108 -9;

and monopolies, 59 , 65 , 117 -19;

role of Administrative Council in, 53 , 60 , 68 , 80 , 83 -86, 91 , 97 , 101 , 103 , 108 , 111 -23 passim, 125 , 130 -31, 186 ;

and subsidies to Mount Lebanon, 36 , 84 -85, 109 -12, 116 , 122 , 125 -28, 130 .

See also Taxation

Fraifir, Bishop Yusuf, 90 , 165


and Administrative Council, 88 -90, 116 , 128 -30, 175 -80;

ambitions of, 43 -44, 46 , 51 , 59 , 71 , 75 , 77 , 88 , 97 , 118 , 130 , 175 -76, 179 , 180 , 182 ;

and appointment of governors, 41 , 44 , 45 -46, 64 , 71 , 79 ;

and Britain, 28 , 43 -44, 59 , 66 , 67 , 71 , 77 , 177 ;

demonstrations for, 41 , 46 , 63 , 254 n.21;

economic interests of, 17 , 23 , 59 , 65 -67, 77 -78, 79 , 112 , 116 -18, 130 ;

and Khazins, 170 ;

and Maronite Church, 24 , 27 , 28 , 29 , 43 , 45 -47, 50 -51, 55 -56, 75 , 77 , 79 , 82 , 87 , 107 , 142 , 152 , 166 -80 passim, 219 n.60, 244 n.80, 254 n.21, 255 n.34;

and Mehmed Ali, 23 , 24 ;

military intervention of (1860), 31 ;

as model for "liberals," 178 , 187 ;

and Muaissara, 108 ;

and officials of Mount Lebanon, 157 ;

opposition to military rule of (1918-1920), 177 -80, 181 -82, 258 n.61;

policy vicissitudes of, in Ottoman Middle East, 40 -41, 43 , 48 -50, 59 , 90 , 108 , 116 -17, 130 , 158 ;

and Union and Progress Party, 73 , 74 .

See also French Mandate Regime; Patrimonio, Salvator; Petiteville, Vicomte de.

See also under Ottoman government; Rüstem Pasha; Vasa Pasha

Franko Pasha (Kusa), Governor (1868-1872), 40 -41, 86 , 92 , 215 n.4, 260 n.1;

and Administrative Council, 84 , 86 ;

and administrative divisions and offices, 148 -49, 250 n.7;

career of, 194 -95;

and councillor elections, 86 ;

and Druze notables, 154 ;

finances under, 110 , 112 ;

judiciary under, 136 -37, 141 ;

and Khazins, 92 , 152 ;

and Maronite clergy, 63 , 87 , 92 , 141 , 153 , 164 -65,


253 n.8;

and Naum, 59 , 92 , 196 ;

and the Porte, 40 ;

and Yusuf Franko, 64

French mandate regime (1920-1943), 1 , 3 , 101 , 140 , 175 -80, 180 -83, 188 , 192

Fuad Pasha (Ottoman statesman), 30 , 31 , 36 , 37 , 40 , 194 , 253 n.7


Gaza, 211 n.41

Geertz, Clifford, 190

Gellner, Ernst, 191

Gendarmerie. See Security force

Germany, 23 , 25 , 27 -28, 31 , 41 , 73 , 129

Gharb, 7

Ghusn, Niqula (councillor), 238 n.77, 257 n.55, 258 n.62

Gouraud, General Henri, 177 -78, 179 -80

Gramsci, Antonio, 192

"Greater Lebanon," aspirations for, 101 , 129 , 175 , 178 , 180 , 188

Greek Catholic (Uniate Melchite) community, 11 -12, 26 , 27 , 28 , 30 , 136 , 176 , 177 , 194 , 198 , 252 n.36;

Administrative Council representatives of, 82 -83, 89 , 236 n.63, 257 n.55

Greek Orthodox Church, 9 , 12 , 246 n.7

Greek Orthodox community, 12 , 13 , 27 , 30 , 40 , 160 , 249 n.1, 252 n.36;

Administrative Council representatives of, 82 -83, 96 , 236 n.63, 237 n.65, 257 n.55;

and judgeships, 136 , 246 n.7


Hajj, Patriarch Yuhanna (1890-1898), 92 , 166 -70, 254 n.21

al-Hajjar, Husain (councillor), 257 n.55, 258 n.62

al-Hakim, Yusuf, 249 n.1, 252 n.44

Halil Rifat Pasha, Grand Vizier, 62 -63

Hamdi Pasha, Ahmed (governor of Damascus), 44 -46, 88 , 141 , 217 nn. 38, 44, 251 n.24

Hauran, 14 , 20 , 24 , 154 , 221 nn. 74, 76

Himada family, 14

Historiography of Lebanon, 2 -3, 181 , 182 , 183 , 206 n.5

Hubaish, Patriarch Ilias (1823-1845), 21

Hubaish, Yusuf (councillor), 71

Hubaish family, 13

Huwayyik, Patriarch Ilias, 70 , 166 , 170 -74, 176 , 178 , 180 , 183 , 228 n.41

Huwayyik, Sa'adallah (councillor), 70 , 99 , 181 , 183 , 236 n.63, 238 n.72, 257 n.55


Ibrahim Hakki Pasha, Grand Vizier, 76 , 98

Ibrahim Pasha (commander of Egyptian forces), 22 -25

Ihdin, 37 , 38

'Imad family, 14 , 19 , 238 n.76

Ismail Hakki Bey, governor (1916-1918). See Isma'il Haqqi

Isma'il Haqqi, 112 , 199 , 259 n.6

Istafan, Bishop Yusuf, 20

Istanbul (city), 13 , 22 , 24 , 28 , 30 , 31 , 35 , 36 , 37 , 41 , 42 , 43 , 44 , 49 , 52 , 54 , 55 , 56 , 59 , 67 , 69 -75 passim, 80 , 92 , 94 , 95 , 112 , 119 , 121 , 138 , 139 , 143 , 144 , 153 , 154 , 156 , 157 , 164 , 166 , 167 , 171 , 194 -203 passim


Italy, 38 , 71 ;

and the Ottoman-Italian war of 1911-12, 79 , 122


Jabal 'Amil, 6

Jazzin (district), 11 , 37 , 82 , 83 , 86 , 89 , 100 , 105 , 106 , 134 , 181 , 232 n.14, 236 n.63, 238 n.76, 257 n.55

Jerusalem, 12 , 31 , 43

Jubail, 9 , 53 , 220 nn. 69, 70, 244 n.79


and Administrative Council as forum for investigations on judges and officials, 68 , 92 , 94 -95, 142 -45;

and Central Court, 136 -140, 247 n.17;

and clergy, 52 , 141 -42, 155 ;

and Commercial Court of Beirut, 79 , 132 -33;

confessionalist basis of, 83 , 133 -37 passim, 141 , 246 n.7;

and court fees, 120 ;

and courts of first instance (district courts), 133 -35, 246 n.7; 247 n.21;

and governors, 44 , 52 , 58 , 141 -46, 155 , 249 n.45;

and High Court of Appeal in Istanbul, 138 -39, 142 , 237 n.66;

and justices of the peace (village sheikhs), 83 , 133 , 145 ;

objections to reorganization of, 56 , 135 , 139 -40;

and standardization of court procedure, 138 -39, 184 ;

and trial of councillors, 75 -76, 94 -100, 235 n.56, 237 n.66

Junblat, 'Ali, 15

Junblat, Mahmud (councillor), 236 n.63, 238 n.76, 257 n.55, 258 n.62

Junblat, Nasib, 54 , 221 n.76, 224 n.82

Junblat, Sheikh Bashir, 18 -21

Junblat family, 14 -16, 19 , 69 -70, 153 , 154 , 156 -57, 159 , 160 , 223 n.80, 252 n.41;

and Arlans, 69 , 70 , 154 , 160 ;

versus the Yazbaki faction, 16 , 19

Junia, 7 , 65 , 66 , 67 , 68 , 75 , 79 , 124 , 241 n.25, 244 n.79


Kâmil Pasha, Grand Vizier, 49

Kan'an, Sulaiman (councillor), 181 -82, 257 nn. 55 60, 258 n.61

Karam, As'ad, 222 n.77, 223 n.80

Karam, Butrus, 222 n.77, 223 n.80

Karam, Yusuf, 37 -38, 84 , 215 n.17

Kazim, 'Ali, 96

Kharrub, 7 , 12

Khazin, Patriarch Yusuf (1845-1854), 164

Khazin, Philip, 55 , 222 n.79

Khazin, Rashid, 70 , 159

Khazin family, 13 , 15 -16, 29 , 68 , 70 , 71 , 92 , 152 , 157 , 160 , 163 -64, 170 , 252 n.41

al-Khuri, Bishara, 234 n.47, 241 n.24

Kisrawan (district), 10 , 11 , 13 , 25 , 29 , 70 , 71 , 82 , 83 , 92 , 93 , 94 , 96 , 98 , 105 , 106 , 134 , 142 , 148 , 155 , 163 , 164 , 170 , 172 , 236 nn. 62, 63, 246 n.7, 250 n.4, 257 n.55

Kupelyan Efendi, 54 , 196 , 249 n.1

Kura (district), 7 , 12 , 83 , 86 , 96 , 105 , 106 , 108 , 135 , 165 , 235 n.50, 238 n.77, 252 n.36, 257 n.55

Kusa, Fethi Franko, 195 , 198

Kusa, Franko Nasri. See Franko Pasha

Kusa, Nasri Franko, 195 , 196 , 197

Kusa, Yusuf Franko. See Yusuf Franko Pasha


Kusa family, 194 ;

and anti-Kusa faction, 64 , 68 , 69 , 72 , 93 , 94 , 159 -60;

and pro-Kusa faction, 64 , 72 , 95 , 159

Kuyumcuyan, Bedros, 196 , 197 , 199

Kuyumcuyan, Ohannes. See Ohannes Pasha


Latakia, 31 , 168

Law enforcement agency. See Security force

Lebanese National Pact (1943), 183 , 188 , 189

Lebanon, Republic of, 1 -5, 81 , 140 , 183 , 188 -90, 236 n.56, 255 n.32

Lebanonism. See under "Liberal" movement in Mount Lebanon; Maronite Church and clergy

"Liberal" movement in Mount Lebanon, 63 -64, 68 -71, 73 -75, 93 -94, 96 -100, 128 , 159 -60, 170 -74, 182 ;

and Lebanonism, 172 -73, 181 -83, 187 -88


Mahmud II, Sultan (1808-1838), 22 -23

Mahmud Sevket Pasha, Grand Vizier, 126 , 244 n.76

Ma'n, Husain, 13

Ma'n family, 11 , 13 .

See also Amirate regime; Ma'n, Amir Fakhr al-Din

Maronite Church and clergy:

archives of, 2 , 205 n.2;

and governors, 37 , 43 -47, 50 -52, 59 , 63 , 69 -71, 87 , 90 , 92 -93, 141 -42, 152 -53, 155 , 164 -73 passim, 228 n.41, 253 n.8;

and judgeships, 141 -42, 153 , 155 , 222 n.77;

and Khazins, 15 -16, 29 , 70 , 92 , 149 , 152 , 164 ;

Lebanonism of, 172 , 176 -77, 181 , 183 , 191 , 192 ;

organization of, 9 , 25 ;

political influence of, 20 -30, 49 , 51 -53, 74 , 87 , 90 -91, 97 , 107 , 114 , 153 , 157 , 164 , 170 -71, 173 ;

rivalries within, 50 , 166 , 168 , 170 ;

and the Vatican, 9 , 51 , 166 -68, 170 ;

wealth of, 15 , 21 , 26 , 49 , 51 , 87 , 186 .

See also Dibs, Bishop Yusuf; Hajj, Patriarch Yuhanna; Hubaish, Patriarch Ilias; Huwayyik, Patriarch Ilias; Khazin, Patriarch Yusuf; Mas'ad, Patriarch Bulus. See also under France; Ottoman government

Maronite community, 9 -12, 19 , 30 , 47 , 50 -52, 111 , 114 , 148 , 153 , 157 , 160 , 191 , 245 n.4;

Administrative Council representatives of, 58 , 71 , 82 -100 passim, 236 n.63, 244 n.80, 257 n.55;

and judgeships, 134 -35, 136 , 137 , 142 , 246 n.7;

secular leadership of, 13 , 15 -16, 21 , 29 , 46 , 64 , 70 -71, 149 , 152 -53, 170 , 172 -73;

tension and fighting with Druze, 21 -22, 24 , 27 -30, 42 , 46 , 110 , 153 -54.

See also Khazin family; Maronite Church and clergy

Mas'ad, Patriarch Bulus (1854-1890), 152 , 164 -66, 171 , 253 n.8, 255 n.32

Matn (district), 10 , 11 , 16 , 25 , 82 , 83 , 94 , 95 , 96 , 105 , 106 , 134 , 148 , 155 , 228 n.46, 236 n.63, 239 n.9, 257 n.55

Mehmed Ali Pasha (governor of Egypt), 20 , 22 , 23 , 102


Mehmed Rasid Pasha (governor of Damascus), 39 -40

Melhame Pasha, Selim, 197 , 238 n.78, 251 n.33

Missionaries, 12 , 23 , 51 , 52 , 180 , 186

Monopolies, 59 , 60 , 65 , 75 , 118 -19

Mount Lebanon:

geography of, 6 -9, 15 , 17 -18, 23 -24, 25 , 26 -27, 52 , 64 , 126 -27, 147 , 184 ;

name of, 6 , 30 -31;

population of, 105 -6 (Tables 1 -2), 185

Muaissara, 107 -8, 240 n.11

Muhmalât revenue. See under Taxation

Muhsin, Muhammad (councillor), 96 , 98 , 99 , 236 n.63, 257 n.55

Mukhtara, 20 , 21 , 153

Mümtaz Bey, Governor (1918), 199

Muqâta'ajis ("tax-farmers"), 15 -17, 19 -21, 26 -27, 29 , 115 , 149 , 154 -56;

debate on, 209 n.21, 212 n.50, 250 n.9;

definition of, 14 -15, 26 ;

and the Maronite patriarch, 163 -64.

See also Junblat family; Khazin family; Shihab, Amir Bashir; Shihab family

Mutasarrifiyya (Governorate) of Mount Lebanon:

boundaries of, 31 , 32 (Map 2), 39 , 40 , 64 , 68 , 108 , 128 ;

establishment of, 1 , 6 , 31 -33, 36 -38, 82 , 102 , 108 , 186 ;

in Lebanese history, 1 , 2 , 3 , 5 , 140 , 144 , 183 , 188 -92, 236 n.56

Muzaffer Pasha, Governor (1902-1907), 64 -71, 140 , 143 , 172 , 249 n.45;

and Administrative Council and elections, 68 , 71 , 93 -94, 144 ;

career of, 197 -98,

finances under, 114 , 116 ;

and harbors question, 65 -67;

and judiciary, 143 -44, 249 n.45;

and "liberals," 68 -71, 160 , 170 , 255 n.26;

and Maronite clergy, 69 -71, 228 n.41;

and monopolies, 65 , 119 ;

and the Porte, 64 -65, 67 , 228 n.42;

projects of, 69 ;

and roads, 68 , 227 n.37

Muzairib, 113 , 119


Nabi Yunus, 79

Nablus, 31

Najm, Bishop Yusuf, 170

Nation-state building, 1 , 3 -4, 191 -92, 206 n.5;

in Lebanon, 25 , 78 , 147 , 157 , 158 , 161 -62, 172 -75, 183 , 184 -92 passim, 259 n.6

Naum Pasha (Tütüncü), Governor (1892-1902), 59 -64, 68 , 159 , 225 n.15;

and Administrative Council, 60 , 64 , 92 , 234 nn. 44, 45;

and Arslan, Mustafa, 59 , 159 , 224 n.5;

and Beirut (city), 60 -61;

career of, 196 -97;

complaints against, 63 -64;

and contraband trade, 60 ;

and Franko, 59 , 92 , 196 ;

judiciary under, 139 -40, 142 -43;

and Lebanese emigration, 61 -63;

and Maronite clergy, 59 , 63 , 93 , 170 , 171 -72;

and monopolies, 65 , 118 -19;

and Ottoman laws, 59 -60;

and roads, 63

1908 Revolution, 72 -74, 94 , 96 , 121 , 160

Notables, 14 -17, 26 , 86 -87, 93 , 115 , 147 , 149 , 152 -57, 161 , 209 n.19, 252 n.45;

and land disputes and peasant unrest, 19 -21, 25 -27, 29 , 87 , 152 -53, 222 n.77, 251 n.33.

See also Arslan, Mustafa; Arslan family; Junblat family; Khazin family; Muqâta'ajis ; Shihab family



Ohannes Pasha (Kuyumcuyan), Governor (1912-1915), 79 -81, 244 n.76;

and Administrative Council, 80 , 100 -101, 128 , 239 n.79, 244 n.80;

career of, 199 ;

finances under, 121 -23, 127 -28;

and Maronite patriarch, 173 ;

and monopolies, 118 ;

and the mutiny, 123 -26;

resignation of, 81 , 174

Orontes valley, 9

Ottoman documents on Lebanon, 1 , 2 , 3 , 36 , 188 -89, 200 -204

Ottoman government (the Porte):

and the amirate, 11 , 13 , 17 , 18 , 163 ;

and confessionalism, 185 ;

controversy over the financial obligations of, 84 -86, 103 , 109 -12, 119 , 122 -23, 127 , 143 , 186 ;

and the dual-districts, 25 -30;

and efforts to reconcile Lebanese, 36 , 41 , 45 , 57 , 63 , 71 , 77 , 92 , 114 , 117 , 130 , 152 -54, 189 ;

and France, 40 -50 passim, 59 , 63 , 73 , 77 , 78 , 90 , 108 , 117 , 130 , 158 , 167 ;

governors of Mount Lebanon within the system of, 31 , 35 , 39 -40, 49 -50, 59 , 67 , 80 , 155 , 193 -99 passim;

and Lebanese appeals to, 44 , 53 -54, 56 , 58 , 63 -64, 91 -99 passim, 120 , 138 , 139 , 142 , 143 , 144 , 153 , 154 , 157 , 217 n.44, 255 n.33;

and Maronite bishops, 165 -66, 169 -70;

and Maronite patriarchs, 163 -64, 166 -68;

and Mehmet Ali, 20 , 22 -24;

military intervention of, 11 , 24 , 30 , 37 -38, 42 , 67 , 80 , 84 , 125 ;

military rule of (1915-1918), 80 -81, 129 , 140 , 173 -74, 187 , 255 n.86;

policy objectives of, 34 -36, 38 , 40 , 43 , 48 , 49 -50, 57 , 63 , 76 -78, 81 , 116 -17, 123 , 144 , 156 , 189 ;

political traditions of, 35 -36, 39 , 61 , 72 , 77 , 80 -81, 144 , 209 n.19;

prestige and legacy of, 55 , 59 , 77 -78, 145 , 188 -89;

problems of, 41 -42, 52 , 71 , 72 -73, 77 , 79 , 110 , 122 , 123 ;

and the Règlement , 38 , 58 , 88 , 132 , 135 , 139 , 140 , 143 , 144 , 148 ;

sovereignty rights of, 31 , 36 , 39 -40, 41 , 55 , 56 , 75 , 76 , 77 , 79 , 81 , 87 , 120 -21, 125 -26, 135 , 144 -45, 155 , 171 , 187 .

See also Davud Pasha; Emigration and travelers; Franko Pasha; Muzaffer Pasha; Yusuf Franko Pasha

Ottoman laws and regulations, 51 , 59 -60, 61 , 65 , 69 , 80 , 109 , 115 -16, 137 -38, 142 , 145 , 166 -67, 169 , 171 .

See also Ottoman trade agreements and capitulations

Ottoman Public Debt Administration, 42 , 59 , 65 , 75 , 79 -80, 112 , 118 , 230 n.58, 244 n.79

Ottoman trade agreements and capitulations, 23 , 29 -30, 78 -79, 97 , 99 -100, 184


Palestine, 11 , 18 , 120

Paris, 43 , 164 , 171 , 175 , 176 , 178 , 180 , 197

Paris Peace Conference (1919), Lebanese representation in, 175 -80

Pasha, definition of, 211 n.41, 252 n.33

Patrimonio, Salvator (French consul-general), 44 , 45 -46, 47 -48

Peasant unrest. See under Notables

Petiteville, Vicomte de (French consul-general), 48 -49


Piavi, Monsignor (Apostolic legate), 166 -68

Population counts, 61 , 104 , 105 (Table 1), 106 (Table 2), 121 -22, 148 , 186

Porte. See Sublime Porte

Protocols to the Règlement , 78 , 94 , 140 , 143 , 144 , 181 , 193 , 230 n.66, 260 n.1;

in 1861, 31 , 103 , 194 ;

in 1864, 33 , 37 , 103 , 194 ;

in 1868, 40 , 195 ;

in 1873, 41 , 194 ;

in 1883, 45 , 196 ;

in 1892, 58 , 92 , 139 , 142 -43, 197 ;

in 1897, 63 , 139 -40, 143 , 197 ;

in 1902, 64 , 140 , 143 , 198 ;

in 1907, 71 , 140 , 198 ;

in 1912, 79 , 99 -100, 121 -22, 123 , 128 , 140 , 160 -61, 186 , 199 , 238 n.76

Prussia. See Germany

Public education and schools, 51 , 52 , 55 , 110 , 186 , 223 n.81, 256 n.36


Règlement (organic statute of Mount Lebanon), 31 -33, 34 , 36 , 38 , 41 , 43 , 51 , 58 , 77 , 79 , 102 , 118 , 157 , 159 , 184 , 190 , 259 n.14;

on Administrative Council, 82 -84, 86 , 88 , 92 , 94 , 103 , 123 , 130 ;

on administrative divisions, 148 ;

on the governor, 31 , 141 , 193 ;

on judicial organization, 44 , 132 -46 passim, 245 n.1;

on muqâta'ajis , 149 , 155 , 250 n.9;

on taxation, 37 , 83 -86, 103 -4, 111 -12, 117 , 123 , 126 , 130 .

See also Protocols to the Règlement

Resid Bey (Muzaffer's son), 198 , 228 n.42

Resid Pasha (governor of Beirut), 65 -67, 227 n.29, 228 n.41

Roman Catholic Church. See Vatican

Rome, 164 , 168 , 171 , 195 , 199

Russia, 22 -23, 27 -28, 31 , 63 , 71 , 97 ;

and Russo-Ottoman War of 1877, 42 -43, 197

Rüstem Pasha, Governor (1873-1883), 41 -45, 49 -50, 63 , 155 , 260 n.1;

and Administrative Council and elections, 85 -88, 233 n.23;

career of, 195 ;

and Druze notables, 44 , 87 , 154 -55;

finances under, 84 -85, 110 -11;

and France, 41 , 43 -45, 47 , 49 ;

judiciary under, 44 , 134 , 137 , 139 , 140 , 141 , 217 n.38;

and Maronite clergy, 43 -45, 47 , 87 , 90 , 165 , 169 , 171 ;

and public security, 42 -43


Sa'ad, Habib, 68 , 71 , 80 , 94 , 99 , 100 , 124 , 125 , 157 , 223 n.80, 234 n.47, 237 n.65, 255 n.34, 257 n.55, 258 n.62

Sabra, Muhammad (councillor), 236 n.63

Said Pasha (Ottoman statesman), 49

Saida (city) (Sidon), 7 , 12 , 18 , 23 , 180

Saida (province), 10 , 11 , 13 , 14 , 17 , 18 , 27 , 31 , 200

Security force, 36 , 37 , 60 , 69 , 110 , 111 , 130 , 147 , 149 , 169 , 177 , 184 , 185 , 243 n.69, 258 n.2;

attempts at reform of, 69 , 121 -22;

local leaders' negligence of, 124 -25, 129 , 154 , 185 ;

mutiny of, 121 , 123 -29, 185

Sekib Efendi (Ottoman foreign minister), 28

Shidyaq, Yusuf, 55 , 222 n.79

Shihab, Amir Bashir, 18 -22, 24 -25

Shihab family, 13 -14, 15 -17, 19 ,


25 -26, 156 , 157 , 160 , 252 n.41.

See also Amirate regime

Shiite community, 10 , 11 , 21 , 30 , 136 , 148 , 252 n.36;

Administrative Council representatives of, 82 -83, 96 , 98 , 236 n.63, 257 n.55

Shuairi, Ilias (councillor), 96 , 98 , 234 n.39, 236 n.63, 237 n.65, 257 n.55

Shuf (district), 10 , 43 , 44 , 53 -54, 59 , 69 , 70 , 83 , 89 , 100 , 105 , 106 , 135 , 142 , 148 , 153 -56, 221 n.76, 224 n.5, 236 n.63, 238 n.76, 257 n.55

Spagnolo, John P., 43 , 46 , 53 , 75 , 205 n.4

Sublime Porte (Bâb-i 'Âli ), definition of, 31 , 33 , 213 n.62. See Ottoman government

Süleyman Pasha (governor of Akka), 18 , 19 , 21

Sunni community, 10 , 12 , 30 , 136 , 187 ;

Administrative Council representatives of, 82 -83, 236 n.63, 257 n.55

Syria (region), 7 , 10 , 12 , 13 , 18 , 29 , 59 , 154 , 182 , 194 , 210 n.31;

definition of, 207 n.3;

Egyptian rule in, 22 -24;

French ambitions over, 43 -47, 49 -50, 59 ;

French-Arab struggle over, 175 -81;

importance of, for Ottomans, 49 -50, 76 -77


Talat Pasha (Ottoman statesman), 74

Tali', Tawfiq, 123 -24

Tamar, Jirji (councillor), 96 , 238 n.77

Tanzîmât (Ottoman reforms), 24 , 30 , 39 , 77 , 193


before the mutasarrifiyya , 14 -15, 19 -20, 26 -28, 102 , 108 , 111 , 112 ;

burden of, 61 , 113 , 126 -27, 131 ;

court fees, 120 ;

military service tax, 104 ;

muhmalât revenue, 86 , 91 , 112 -21, 122 -23, 126 , 128 , 130 ;

passport and travel fees, 120 -21;

property tax, 104 , 107 -8;

under the Règlement and protocols, 37 , 83 -86, 103 -4, 111 -12, 117 , 123 , 126 , 130 ;

uneven distribution of the burden of, 107 , 122 , 129 , 186 .

See also Fiscal administration

Transportation and roads:

development of, 23 -24, 60 , 63 , 68 , 113 -14, 119 , 220 n.69;

difficulties encountered in the development of, 7 , 18 , 52 -53, 114 , 227 n.37;

financing of, 44 , 86 , 110 , 113 -15;

and integration of Mount Lebanon, 147

Tripoli (city), 7 , 10 , 12 , 18 , 31 , 108 , 165 , 180 , 211 n.41, 220 n.69, 223 n.80, 227 n.37

Tripoli (province), 14 , 17 , 163

Tuani, Iskandar, 63 , 159 , 160

Turkey, 188

Tütüncü, Naum. See Naum Pasha

Tyre, 180


Union and Progress Party, 68 , 72 -74, 80 , 126 , 129 , 229 n.51


Vasa Pasha, Governor (1883-1892), 45 -57, 58 , 61 , 67 -68, 99 , 202 , 218 n.50, 221 n.75, 224 n.84, 249 n.1;

and Administrative Council and elections, 52 , 53 -54, 85 -91, 117 ;

career of, 195 -96;

and France, 45 -46, 48 -50, 59 , 90 , 219 n.60;

judiciary reorganization under, 134 -35, 137 -40, 141 -42, 246 n.7;

machinations of, 53 -54, 89 , 142 ;

and Maronite clergy, 47 , 50 -53, 91 , 141 -42,


Vasa Pasha, Governor (continued )

155 , 165 -69, 171 ;

and notables, 155 -56;

objectives of, 48 ;

opponents of, 53 -59, 156 , 221 nn. 74, 76, 223 nn. 80-82;

and the press, 47 -48, 55 , 222 n.79;

and roads, 52 -53, 114 ;

supporters of, 51 -52, 55 , 63 , 64 , 90 -93, 223 n.80;

and taxation, 107 , 111 , 112 , 114 , 116 -17, 120

Vatican (Roman Catholic Church), 9 , 12 , 51 , 166 -68, 170 -71


Wadi al-Taim, 7 , 10 , 11 , 13 , 30

World War I, effects of, in Mount Lebanon, 73 , 80 -81, 101 , 115 , 129 , 161 , 173 -75, 184 , 185 , 187 , 199 , 229 n.51


Yamin, Bishop Yuwakhim, 222 n.77

Yazbaki faction, versus the Junblati faction, 16 , 19

Yusuf Franko Pasha (Kusa), Governor (1907-1912), 64 , 71 -76, 79 , 93 , 160 , 195 ;

and Administrative Council, 72 , 74 , 75 , 94 -99, 101 , 144 , 234 n.44, 235 n.56;

career of, 198 ;

effect of 1908 Revolution on, 73 -74;

and judiciary, 144 ;

the Porte's warnings to, 75 -76, 98 , 144 ;

and taxation, 117


al-Zahir, Kan'an, 68 , 70 , 89 , 223 n.80, 228 n.46, 234 n.39, 237 n.65

Zahir al-'Umar, 18

Zahla, 7 , 12 , 23 , 28 , 83 , 89 , 105 , 106 , 135 , 231 n.3, 232 nn. 12, 14, 236 n.63, 252 n.36, 257 n.55

Zamir, Meir, 176

Zuain, Jirjus (councillor), 68 , 71 , 96 , 98 , 99 , 237 n.66

Zughbi, Bishop Yusuf, 165 , 253 n.11


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Preferred Citation: Akarli, Engin. The Long Peace: Ottoman Lebanon, 1861-1920. Berkeley:  University of California Press,  c1993 1993.