The Birth of the Turkish Empire by Percy T. Magan

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 21, 1909

The Birth of the Turkish Empire

By Percy T. Magan

PERCY T. MAGAN

In a previous article in the Review I endeavored to make it plain that the drying up of the waters of the river Euphrates, or, in other words, the destruction of the Turkish empire, is the signal for the long-looked-for universal war.

Now since the “waters” of the Turkish empire are to be “dried up,” it will stand us in hand to go back to the days of the rise of the Ottoman empire, to the time when the “waters” of that nation were “moved as the rivers,” and rose “up as a flood;” for no one can really understand the hidden springs of life and action in the Turkish question of to-day who does not, to some degree at least, familiarize himself with things from the Mohammedan standpoint.

During the last century, by the men of Western nations the Turks have been regarded as the offscouring of the earth. The rejuvenation of their empire has been dubbed “a bootless speculation;” and Carlyle drastically characterized the Turk as “unspeakable.”

But it was not always thus. For many generations the Turk was powerful, “and it seemed for a while rather a question whether he would not send the Europeans out of their own grounds. He was for centuries the great terror, the nightmare of Western Europe.”—“History of Our Own Times,” by Justin McCarthy, Vol. I, chap. 25, par. 4.

The rise of the Turks was romantic and phenomenal. “When it is recalled that at the beginning of the thirteenth century the Osmanli Turks were pastoral tribes living in tents and movable huts in Central Asia, slightly fixed to the soil, holding the camp rather than the land as native country, and recognizing allegiance only to powerful chiefs; that at the beginning of the fourteenth century they had migrated into Asia Minor, and had become somewhat fixed to a small tract of land in Anatolia; at the beginning of the fifteenth century they had acquired vast possessions in Anatolia and Rumelia, Bulgaria, Ragusa, Servia, and Wallachia in Europe; at the beginning of the sixteenth century they had added Trebizond, Karaman, and Armenia in Asia, and Greece (including Constantinople), Bosnia, Herzegovina, Albania, and the Crimea in Europe; and by the middle of that century Tunis, Egypt, Algiers, and Tripoli in Africa, Kurdistan, Arabia, Syria, and Bagdad in Asia, and Moldavia, Hungary, and Transylvania in Europe,—when significant facts like these are recalled, it is obvious” that the rise of the Ottoman Turks was no common or unimportant event in the history of mankind. See, “Turkey and the Turks,” by Munroe, page 13.

The Osmanli, or Ottoman Turks, have ever been regarded by the Western nations as interlopers in Europe. While the great powers of Europe are of Teutonic and Slavic extraction, the Osmanli Turks are of Mongolian stock. They originated in the plains of Sungaria near the desert of Gobi. “These were one of two great races which alternately filled the rôle of the scourges of God.”

“The thirteenth century had half run its course when Kaykubad, the Seljuk sultan of Iconium, was one day hard beset near Angora by a Mongol army. The enemy was rapidly gaining the mastery, when suddenly the fortune of the day was reversed. A small body of unknown horsemen charged upon the foe, and victory declared for the Seljuk. The cavaliers who had thus opportunely come to the rescue knew not whom they had assisted, nor did the Seljuks recognize their allies. The meeting was one of those remarkable accidents which sometimes shape the future of nations. Ertoghrul, son of Suleyman,—a member of the Oghuz family of Turks, which the Mongol avalanche had dislodged from its old camping grounds in Khorasan, and had pressed in a westerly direction,—was journeying from the Euphrates banks, where he had halted awhile, to the more peaceful seclusion of Anatolia, when he unexpectedly came upon the battle-field of Angora. With the nomad’s love of scrimmage, and the warrior’s sympathy for the weaker side, he led his four hundred riders pell-mell into the fray, and won the day. He little thought that by his impulsive and chivalrous act he had taken the first step toward founding an empire that was destined to endure in undiminished glory for three centuries, and which even now, when more than six hundred years have elapsed, and many a fair province has been wrested or inveigled out of its grasp, still stands lord over wide lands, and holds the allegiance of many peoples, of divers races and tongues. From Ertoghrul to the reigning sultan of Turkey, thirty-five [now thirty-six] princes in the male line have ruled the Ottoman empire without a break in the succession. There is no such example of continuous authority of a single family in the history of Europe.”—“Turkey,” Lane-Poole, pages 8, 9. Such was the romantic and humble birth of the Turkish power of to-day.

At Sugut in 1258 there was born Othman, the son of Ertoghrul. He was the first ruler of the line who ventured to assert his absolute independence. His descendants took the name of Othmanlis, or, as we call them, Ottomans. This man was destined not only to give his

name to the Ottomans, but he became the great conquering hero of the race. A dream which he had in his youthful days is said to have had a powerful influence on his after-life, and the story is romantic and interesting:—

“At the little village of Ithburuni, near Eskisehir, dwelt a learned doctor of the law, Edebali, with whom Othman loved to converse, not the less because the good man had a daughter fair to see, whom some called Mal Khatun, ‘Lady Treasure,’ and others Kamariya, ‘Moon-bright,’ from her surpassing beauty. But the family of Othman was as yet new to the country, and its authority was not recognized by the surrounding chieftains of the Anatolian aristocracy. Other young men of higher rank might bring their court to the damsel, and her father discouraged the suit of the son of Ertoghrul. At last he was convinced by an argument which has ever been potent among the superstitious people of the East. A dream dispelled his doubts. One night Othman, as he slumbered, thought he saw himself and the old man, his host, stretched upon the ground, and from Edebali’s breast there seemed to rise a moon, which, waxing to the full, approached the prostrate form of Othman, and finally sank to rest in his bosom. Thereat from out his loins sprang forth a tree, which grew taller and taller, and raised its head, and spread out its branches, till the bows overshadowed the earth and the seas. Under the canopy of leaves towered four mighty mountains, Caucasus and Atlas, Taurus and Hæmus, which held up the leafy vault like four great tent poles, and from their sides flowed royal rivers, Nile and Danube, Tigris and Euphrates. Ships sailed upon the waters, harvests waved upon the fields, the rose and the cyprus, flower and fruit, delighted the eye, and on the boughs birds sang their glad music. Cities raised domes and minarets toward the blue canopy; temples and obelisks, towers and fortresses, lifted their high heads, and on their pinnacles shone the golden crescent. And behold, as he looked, a great wind arose and dashed the crescent against the crown of Constantine, that imperial city which stood at the meeting of two seas and two continents, like a diamond between sapphires and emeralds, the center jewel of the ring of empire.”—Von Hammer, “History of the Ottoman Turks,” Vol. I, pages 66, 67. Quoted by Lane-Poole.

Whether the dream was an invention, or whether the vision of empire really came to Othman as he lay slumbering, no mortal knows. But certain it is that the Turkish crescent and scimitar did dash against Constantinople, the glorious city of the imperial Constantine the Great. And there at the meeting of two seas and two continents they have remained to this day. They have remained in spite of the fact that no less than twenty times in the last two hundred years has the might of Russia been engaged in fierce effort to dislodge them.

But the end is soon to come. And with it there will come, not only the end of the Ottoman empire of the Turks, but also the end of all the empires of earth. When that power which dwells where two seas and two continents meet, shall go down in ruin, all that is magnificent and mighty on earth will follow in its wake. And then two seas will meet,—the sea of earth’s long night of sorrow and the sea of eternal time. And the one will ebb away forever, while the heaving bosom of the other will bless mankind through all the ages of the ages.

Madison, Tenn.