by Ahmet Altan
“Would you like to eat right away?”
“Yes, in fact I’m hungry. Did you know that cold makes you hungry?”
They went into the living room together, Hikmet Bey sat in front of the fire, and Hediye remained standing.
“Have a seat, Hediye, why are you on your feet?”
“Let me go and tell them to prepare the food, sir.”
“Tell the housekeeper to come, I want to send news to my father.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Hikmet Bey told the housekeeper to send a man to his father with the news that he’d found a waterfront mansion next to the Cypriots in Kandilli and that he wanted his father to come look at it with him the following morning.
“Tell him to go at once, if my father isn’t home he’s to wait for the answer and then come.”
Like every other pasha in those troubled times, Reşit Pasha was walking on eggshells, he was afraid of hearing bad news, but also of being arrested, exiled, or worse at any moment; no one knew who would be next, when even the Sultan was in a perilous position, everyone feared for their lives, when he was told that a message had arrived from his son he said he hoped everything was well then went to see the messenger in fear of hearing bad news.
He relaxed when he heard the message.
“Tell Hikmet Bey that I have to go to the palace in the morning, I’ll pick him up at his mansion at noon, tell him to wait for me.”
The Sultan sensed that the Committee was looking for an excuse to dethrone him and diminish his political influence in a way that everyone would see, so he spent most of his time engaged in carpentry, talking with the doctor about medical advancements, and telling stories about his youth, and most of the stories he told Reşit Pasha surprised him.
Some days earlier when they’d been talking, somehow the subject of rabies had come up.
“Once,” said the Sultan, “I personally wrote a letter to Monsieur Pasteur inviting him to come to Istanbul, unfortunately he didn’t come, he couldn’t, if he’d come we could have found the solution to the rabies problem before anyone else.”
“The famous Pasteur, Your Majesty?”
“Yes, doctor. At the time he wasn’t as famous as he is now, but I’d heard about his work, I wanted so much for him to come, establish a hospital and continue his work here, but what can we do, it wasn’t in the cards.”
Then he complained about the doctors he’d sent to study in Europe.
“I noticed, Pasha, that some of the doctors who never went to Europe are better and more skilled than those who studied there. And as for those who studied in Paris, I don’t expect anything from them. I know all too well that those who go to Paris abandon themselves to pleasure and don’t spend any time studying. I saw Paris when I was a prince, even at night it’s like daytime, you can’t take your eyes off the debauchery. When we first went to Paris, Münir Pasha was a clerk at the embassy, later when I became Sultan I brought him to the palace, I liked him, he was a good man. He used to say that there wasn’t a single night in Paris that he went to bed before dawn. But when he was still in his thirties and forties he had no manhood left. He abused it so much . . . I’ll never forget, I was sitting with the diplomats, I needed a pen so I asked Münir Pasha for his, he dropped a pillbox as he was taking his pen out of his pocket and he said, ‘Winter is coming, we have to stay strong, the doctors gave me a pep pill.’ We laughed at this for a long time. That’s how it is, Pasha, everyone who’s lived in Paris needs pep pills when they’re still young. What a shame it is.”
He paused and lit a cigarette and then, as it was his habit to change the subject abruptly, he launched on the subject of drinking.
“And they drink a lot. I saw the king of England, it would be difficult to find anyone who had as much tolerance for drink as that king, he adds cognac to the strongest beer, but he still doesn’t get drunk, he has such a high tolerance for alcohol. My father Sultan Mecit drank as well, he was a victim of drink and sexual excess, he passed away at a young age. Drink is the reason my brother Sultan Murat went mad. You don’t know this, but the famous Namık Kemal led my brother astray, they used to drink rakı till morning. Namık Kemal was my close friend as well. I told him several times that he would be the death of my brother and that he shouldn’t encourage him to drink so much, but neither he nor my brother listened to me.”
The following morning, after days of snow, the weather was clear, a bright winter sun changed the city’s face, it was as if everything had become cheerful; Reşit Pasha woke early and went to the palace, he was brought to the Sultan at once, and the Sultan complained as if he was late.
“Where have you been, doctor, I’ve been waiting for you, look, the sun is out, I’ve been in the doldrums for days, I’ve been sitting still for so long I feel I’ve put down roots, I thought we might walk in the garden while the sun’s still out but you weren’t here, this is how the weather in Istanbul is, it’s not dependable, it could cloud over before we have a chance to get outside.”
The doctor was surprised.
“Are we going out into the garden, Your Majesty?”
“Why are you surprised, doctor, don’t we need to move around a bit, walking is good, doctor, it helps the circulation, strengthens the heart, come, let’s walk, are you dressed warmly enough, if not they can bring you a fur, don’t get cold.”
“I’m dressed warmly, Your Majesty, I won’t get cold.”
“Let’s go, then, I’ll show you my hoatzin birds, you’ve never seen anything like them.”
Reşit Pasha had never walked in the palace’s back garden, which covered the entire hillside, it was adorned with a variety of trees and flowers brought from the four corners of the world and was green and colorful even in winter. It was as if they had arrived in another climate, even the snow on the branches had been cleaned off and it was as if a season had been provided to match the bright sun, it was as if this garden was kept magically warm while the rest of the city lived through the cold of winter.
The guards and gardeners disappeared and watched from their hiding places; they knew how dangerous it was to encounter the Sultan suddenly when he was strolling in the garden; once a gardener encountered the Sultan and took the opportunity to request something of him, but the Sultan was terrified of being assassinated so he took out the pistol he always carried in his pocket and shot the gardener. Reşit Pasha had heard that this was one of three murders committed by the Sultan, who had sent thousands into exile; in addition to the gardener he’d killed with his own hands, it was said that he also had one of his favorite eunuchs hanged; once, this eunuch shot another to death during an argument in the palace; the man went to the Sultan for protection and confessed to the murder.
When the Sultan asked him what he’d used to kill the other man, the eunuch showed him the pistol in his pocket.
The Sultan could not forgive anyone taking out a gun in his presence, so he had the eunuch arrested at once and he was hanged in Beşiktaş early the next morning. He also sent Mithat Pasha, who’d brought him to power after his uncle’s abdication by drafting the Kanun-i Esasi, into exile in Ta’if and had him strangled in prison there.
Reşit Pasha had never had the courage to ask the Sultan about these rumored murders, he didn’t know whether or not the rumors were true but he believed the Sultan was capable of shooting someone who appeared before him suddenly; this was the terrifying reality for those in the Sultan’s retinue.
They walked among thick-trunked trees that were thousands of years old, red pines, sandalwood trees that exuded magical and alluring scents, beds of golden tulips, multicolored fields of hyacinths with leaves like droplets, orchid hot-houses, roses that bloomed even in winter, and reached a stream that was clearly man-made, the streambed had been lined with fine sand and shiny flat stones and there was a boat.
“Come, doctor,” said the Sultan, “let’s take a boat ride.”
After
helping the Sultan into the boat, Reşit Pasha sat beside him and saw that there were no oars, when the Sultan saw the pasha looking for the oars he smiled with pleasure, as he did whenever he surprised someone.
“Don’t look for the oars, doctor, this boat doesn’t have any . . . Look, it has pedals, you have to step down on them. Have you ever used pedals?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
The Sultan loved knowing things that other people didn’t know and spoke confidently about whatever he knew.
“It’s easy, just do what I do, you’ll catch on right away.”
The Sultan and his physician pedaled, and the boat started moving along the stream, on both sides of the stream were miniature copies of the ferry stations of the Bosphorus, each an exact copy, each chiseled building with its own sign and brass bell.
“Let’s go see the hens and the roosters first, let’s see if you’ve ever seen such beautiful roosters.”
The Sultan brought the boat to the shore and they got out together.
There were perhaps thirty thousand hens and roosters in a coop almost as large as a mansion. They were not like any hens or roosters the pasha had ever seen; some were snow-white, some had bright green and red feathers, some had long necks, some had crests, some were tiny, some had sharp spurs, some were speckled, some were entirely red, and others were entirely brown.
As they approached the coop, thousands of hens and roosters began to crow as if they were greeting the Sultan, there was cackling, flapping, and all manner of noise, the Sultan, who was always frightened by any kind of noise or sudden movement, looked at the animals with a loving smile.
“Look at them, doctor, what a commotion they make . . . These white leghorn chickens lay eggs as big as my fist, I eat one every morning, you know me, I don’t eat butter at breakfast, fat slows you down, but eggs strengthen the body, you definitely should eat an egg every morning too, doctor.”
The Sultan clasped his hands behind his back and started walking along the front of the coop, speaking to each of the hens and roosters in turn, it was as if he was sure they could understand him.
“How are you, my girl, is that big bantam bothering you, how are you, your voice is a bit feeble today, are you ill, you don’t lay eggs anymore, have I broken your heart, are you angry at me . . . ”
As he listened, the pasha bit his lip to keep from laughing, he thought the Sultan had hired a detective to keep tabs on the hens.
When the Sultan turned to him just then he had trouble suppressing his laughter.
“Doctor, you should talk to animals, even to plants, these poor creatures can’t speak, but by God they understand what we say, all animals understand what we say, they know whether we’re angry, sad, or ill, and like all of us they need affection and love. Let’s go see the other animals, it’s been a while since I’ve visited them.”
The doctor was heading toward the boat when the Sultan stopped him.
“There’s no need for the boat, the animal cages are at the foot of the wall, let’s walk, we can take the boat later.”
They walked side by side along a path of snow-white pebbles, it was as if each pebble had been cleaned and polished individually, and as they approached the garden wall, which was as high as a building, Reşit Pasha heard, roars, bellows, and growls the like of which he’d never heard before, the animals had smelled them approaching.
First they saw the peacocks, they opened their netlike wings and cried at the top of their lungs in their ugly voices, which didn’t match their beauty, which was like a rainbow shining under the sun.
“It’s impossible for people to understand the creator’s deeds, he gives with one hand and takes with the other, look how beautiful they are, but what about the sound they make, it’s unbearable, and think of the tiny, plain mockingbird that can fit in your hand, you can’t get enough of listening to it, God gave this bird beauty and gave the mockingbird a beautiful voice. He never gives everything to one being, neither to a bird nor to a sultan . . .
Then he saw zebras watching them timidly with their large eyes as if they were ready to flee at any moment, when they moved together their black and white stripes were as dizzying as a pinwheel spinning quickly; as Reşit Pasha, who’d never seen a zebra, looked at them in surprise the Sultan informed him:
“These animals only live in Africa, we had trouble getting them here. Whenever I come across a picture of an animal I’ve never seen in a foreign magazine I can’t resist, I order one at once, I’m interested in these animals, I want to have one in my zoo so I can see them in person.”
A little later they reached the lion cage, and the lions tore the air with their terrifying roars. Two lions paced up and down in the cage with solemn irritability, taking no interest in the visitors; nearby was a cage in which two yellow and black striped tigers lay on the floor. The Sultan stopped in front of the tiger cage.
“They call the lion the king of the jungle, doctor, if they’re the kings of the jungle, these are the queens of nature, there is no animal more beautiful than them, they’re both strong and beautiful, look at their lines, look at their eyes. If you look carefully you can see the work of God everywhere, did you know that lions and tigers are never found in the same place, one lives in Africa and the other in India, if you ask why, if these two animals lived in the same place they would tear each other apart, they would kill each other until there was only one left, then they would become extinct. If you ask me, it should be the same way for people, each of us on a separate continent. You see what happens when we live next to each other . . . ”
They passed deer, antelope, wolves, foxes, lynx that were slightly larger than cats, panthers, and giraffes, they examined each species and were surprised by each of them; the Sultan showed off how much he knew about them and expressed his admiration for them; Reşit Pasha saw that he was truly fond of animals and was surprised at how this man who was always cold and distant toward people could find a place in his cold and unaffectionate nature for the love of animals.
The biggest surprise for Reşit Pasha, or rather the most frightening experience, was the area where the dogs were kept. There were hundreds of dogs in the cages, but not a sound came from them, not a growl or a bark or a howl, and they remained motionless, they maintained a silence that was more terrifying than any sound an animal could make.
Their appearance was as terrifying as their silence, they were unlike any dogs the pasha had ever seen: There were furry boxers, miniature Dalmatians, Dobermans with short legs, oversized lapdogs . . . each of these strange creatures resembled something other than what it was.
When the Sultan saw how surprised the doctor was he explained.
“You can’t find dogs like these anywhere else in the world, I breed dogs and come up with types no one has ever seen before, but, as you see, they’re all mute, I couldn’t find a solution for this.”
As they hurried past the dogs that would haunt Reşit Pasha’s dreams for years, it was clear the Sultan was not happy with the results he’d achieved.
They moved away quickly and went to see the guinea pigs, which were kept apart from all the other animals, they were such a pure white that they glistened like snowballs in the sun.
“You see I’m very fond of these animals, their whiteness always touches me, they seem so innocent, don’t they, doctor?”
A few months later the pasha would realize how sincere the Sultan was when he said he loved those animals, when he was sent into exile he left behind his jewelry, thousands of gold coins, valuable watches, prayer beads, and his collection of weapons without complaint, but he insisted on taking his Siamese cats and one of his two white guinea pigs.
“They really are beautiful, Your Majesty.”
“Come on, doctor, let’s have some coffee. You’re not cold, are you?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
They walked through the trees until they sudd
enly came across a shack that looked like a rural coffeehouse, it had a thatched roof and there were low tables and short stools out front. The pasha was even more surprised to see a rural coffeehouse in the palace garden; he’d known this man for so many years, but during this hour-long stroll he’d seen so much he’d never seen before, he realized there was so much about the Sultan he didn’t know, and that it was not easy to grasp his essence.
They sat on low stools under the thatched roof and pulled their coats around them, a plump man who looked like a stereotypical rural coffeehouse owner came out and greeted them as if they were ordinary customers, saying, “Welcome, gentlemen.”
“What would you like?”
“We’ll have two coffees,” said the Sultan, “but I want them frothy, don’t boil them too much.”
“As you wish, sir.”
There was an ashtray with a pack of cigarettes and matches in it on the wooden table. The Sultan was a heavy smoker, all the ashtrays in the palace had a pack of cigarettes and matches in them so he wouldn’t have to look for cigarettes, and these cigarettes and matches were the only sign that this rural coffeehouse belonged to the palace.
The Sultan was unable to leave the palace and live like other people, so he’d had a rural coffeehouse built in a corner of his garden in order to bring a little bit of the outside world into his palace. The only person in that large palace, indeed in the entire empire, who was allowed to treat the Sultan like an ordinary person, and indeed who had been ordered to do so, was the man who ran this coffeehouse; his job was not to make coffee, it was to make the Sultan feel he was going to a coffeehouse as an ordinary person, and the Sultan enjoyed this game like a child even though he knew he was the one who’d invented it. Later Reşit Pasha told Osman, “He could be so childish, it was impossible to believe this was the man who governed the entire empire with absolute authority.”
As they were waiting for their coffee, the Sultan, as was his habit, brought up a subject and started talking.
“As I told you when we were looking at the peacocks, doctor, God never gives any creature everything completely, he always limits something, people who look at us think, the great Sultan, he has everything, he lives a happy life, however there is pain and suffering in our life as well, but we are not allowed to complain. There’s no one in the world who doesn’t suffer, who doesn’t get sad, there are probably many people who have no idea what my life is like. They imagine I’m a man who never experiences pain or suffering, that I’m a man who’s sat in a cage like a bird all my life.”