p. 475 | THE DULCIGNO MUDDLE

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Oct 28, 1880

THE DULCIGNO MUDDLE.

THOSE readers of the daily papers who have tried to follow the course of events in European politics during the last month have probably found it no easy task to do so. The Turkish question has overshadowed all other matters, since the surprise of the ministerial change in France has passed away. "The unspeakable Turk" has been the central figure of Europe for half a century, and is at the bottom of the present difficulties. His obstinacy and duplicity threaten to involve all Europe in a war, the issues of which no one can foresee.

The treaty of Berlin gave to Greece a small strip of territory that had previously belonged to Turkey, and ceded to Montenegro the seaport town of Dulcigno, besides prescribing certain reforms in Turkish government in Europe and Asia Minor. By a subsequent treaty between England and Turkey, England was made responsible by Lord Beaconsfield's government for the carrying out of these reforms, especially in Asia. Turkey agreed to the treaty of Berlin—a Turkish statesman will agree to anything which does not require immediate action on his part, trusting to luck to get out of the scrape somehow without keeping his word. Promises cost nothing, but when it comes to performance, excuses are as plenty as blackberries in Turkey. Any Turkish statesman can give Europe a score of the best of reasons for not doing a thing, at a moment's notice. Accordingly, on the Sublime Porte being asked by England, or some other Power, when the promised reforms were to be executed, a long diplomatic note was at once forthcoming, to explain the insuperable difficulties under which the Porte labored, and terminating with the assurance that the reforms were to be made at once. And it is needless to say that they are still to be made.

"Reform" is a somewhat indefinite word at the best, and perhaps suggests the same notions to no two of the people who use it most glibly. But the promise to surrender a given strip of territory, and a certain town, meant something about which there could be no debate. On this point there could be no subterfuges; either the surrender must be made, or it must be refused. Some statesmen seem to have believed that the surrender would be made in obedience to the demand of a united Europe, so the Powers who made the treaty of Berlin united in a demand for the surrender of Dulcigno. The Porte, as usual, gave a profusion of reasons for not doing it just then, but offered to do it at some other time on certain conditions. The Powers sent a second demand, with an intimation that this was the last asking. The Porte politely regretted that it had no power to surrender Dulcigno, that town being in the hands of the Albanians, who refused to listen to Turkish authority. The Powers then got up their grand naval demonstration, which was a sort of shaking their fists at Turkey, and threatening what terrible things they would do, if their demands were not complied with.

The Turks merely laughed at the demonstration, and as none of the Powers were prepared to bombard Dulcigno, or land troops, and carry it by assault—which acts Turkey gave notice that she would consider a declaration of war—the demonstration did nothing but make the Powers concerned in it look ridiculous.

So the Powers ignominiously took to diplomacy again, and found Turkey ready to promise anything and—to do nothing. If the allied fleet would withdraw, the Porte would do its best to induce the Albanians to surrender Dulcigno, provided the Powers would give it certain "assurances," but if the Porte's efforts should fail, all Turkish troops would be withdrawn, and the Powers might take possession of the town as best they could. But in that case, the Porte is careful to add, "It will be in no wise responsible for any complications that may arise at the scene of such failure." This is the present state of affairs—the Porte stubborn and slippery, the Powers not fully decided on extreme measures. Mr. Gladstone's Government cannot afford to take a single step backward, and probably has no disposition to do so. England and Russia will insist on the fulfillment of the Berlin treaty, and Austria dare not let them go on without her. Germany, at present, supports the policy of Austria, and so the concert of Powers seems assured, for France cannot afford, and will not consent, to be the only great European Power not represented in the combination. Turkey's ultimate choice will lie between yielding and war. Which she will choose is uncertain. War would be sheer madness, but we are among those who believe that the conceit of the Turk will never suffer him to yield an inch of his territory without a fight; when lying will do no further good he will try the virtue of gunpowder.—Examiner and Chronicle.