The Islam Quintet

by Tariq Ali

  He began to laugh as his lips sought my nipples and I mounted him.

  FIFTEEN

  Nilofer sends Selim to clear his head by talking to the Stone Woman; he is surprised by the experience

  ‘MY NAME IS SELIM, O Stone Woman. I am Nilofer’s new husband and she has sent me here to meet you. She has told me about you, the secrets you guard, the effect you have on people, including some who are so private that they are unaware of their own problems. Is it true that for hundreds of years this was a place only women came to? I wonder why?

  I know we are living in a time when everyone is unsure about the future and men also need to discuss their problems and worries. This used to be the case in the village where my father was born. Hasan Baba talks of the old days in our village, and how during the winter afternoons, men would gather once a week in a circle, blankets held tight around their shoulders, warming their hands by a fire as they spoke of their problems to each other and waited for someone to offer them sage advice. At these gatherings, they rarely spoke of their crops or the lack of water in the village or the rapacious tax-collectors, who, in lieu of money, insisted on other goods, including young women. These were not special problems. It was part of their everyday life.

  The winter circles were organised to discuss personal problems and the younger men, too shy to speak in one particular winter, might none the less be emboldened to speak a few years hence. Hasan Baba says that there were very few inhibitions.

  It was a mixed village with Armenians and Kurds, though we Turks were in the majority. The Armenians had some of the best land and, last year, the Kurds burnt their houses and drove them out of the village, though thankfully nobody was killed. After the Armenians had been driven out the winter gatherings came to an end. My grandfather says it disrupted the solidarity of the village and those who remained could not look each other in the eye. They had done something so terrible to their fellow-human beings that it was difficult to pretend they could solve each other’s problems.

  I’m really surprised that anyone comes here at all, Stone Woman. From a distance you look like the remains of a pagan goddess, but from where I am you’re just a giant rock and it’s very uncomfortable sitting on this stone. Hundreds of delicate and well-cushioned posteriors have sat in the same place for many years. They should have made this stone smooth and soft. It is not easy for me to speak with a stone. I have never found it necessary, but Nilofer wanted to share you with me. The only thing I would not discuss with a close friend or my grandfather is the intimacy between Nilofer and me. That is our own precious secret. It is something so beautiful that we discuss it with each other every day. If, for some reason, I could not tell her certain things, I can see you might be useful, but not now.

  There is one small problem. Young Orhan was a bit taken aback when Nilofer told him about us and for the first few days after the marriage ceremony, he became quite distant. He refused to speak with me or come for a walk on the cliffs as we often did during the day. He is getting better now and I’m sure he will be fine. His behaviour is not unnatural. No child wishes to see its father replaced, even if the father is dead. And if the father is alive and tormenting his wife and children, it is difficult to be disloyal. When I was Orhan’s age, I would sometimes hear my father beating my mother. I would put my fingers in my ears to banish her screams.

  One day I came home unexpectedly and found my mother coupling with a stranger. Even though I knew my father was cruel, I still resented this man’s presence. When he left, I became very angry with my mother. I abused her and shed many tears of rage. My mother’s face was filled with terror. She thought I would tell my father. She said if ever I told my father of what I had seen, he would kill her without pity. She threatened me with fear.

  I believed her, Stone Woman. My father claimed to believe in Sufi philosophy and he could certainly get intoxicated, sing the songs and dance all night, but it never affected his inner being. He may have been a dervish, but he was also an ignorant and a cruel man. I may have been upset at seeing my mother with another man, but that did not make me love my father. Naturally, I kept quiet and till this day I have never recalled that incident to anyone. Why have I told you?

  It was at this time that my grandfather, with their approval, took me away from my parents and began to educate me in earnest. I learnt to read and write and later started to attend the medresseh. I have never seen my parents since that time. Eighteen years have passed and they showed not the slightest interest in me. I think of Hasan Baba as both my mother and my father.

  One thing does worry me, Stone Woman. When my father learns of my marriage to the daughter of Iskander Pasha, he might decide to take advantage. He could arrive at the house on the pretext of paying his respects and seeing his new daughter-in-law, but in reality, to demand money. I have not mentioned this to Nilofer. She would laugh and treat it as inconsequential. You must understand that it is not my father’s poverty I am ashamed of, but his character. He is a disgusting and evil creature and I do not wish him to come to this house or visit us in Istanbul. I have mentioned this to Hasan Baba. It troubles him as well, but he is old and helpless now. He does not offer advice, but shakes his head despairingly and looks up towards the heavens.

  I think I will mention my father to Nilofer and her mother, just in case the scoundrel arrives while I am away from the capital with General Halil. In a sober mood he can appear normal and even charming, but they must be on their guard.

  I’m going now, Stone Woman. I’m surprised my visit was not wasted. I did reveal a secret and it was helpful. Nilofer will be pleased.’

  SIXTEEN

  The Committee for Union and Progress meets to discuss a conspiracy to overthrow the Sultan; the Baron unveils a spy; Nilofer would rather be an Ottoman than a Turk

  WE HAD BECOME SO used to each other’s company over the last few weeks that it came as a slight shock when I first noticed the dust rising in the distance. The men on horseback heading in our direction were not unexpected. Halil and Selim had been awaiting their arrival with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. I rushed to inform them that their guests had been sighted and the three of us went to the front terrace to watch their arrival.

  The coach contained two generals, one of whom was very short. The four young officers, one of them much younger than Selim, were on horseback. They jumped off as they ran and saluted Halil. Then my brother went down the stairs to receive his fellow generals. They saluted each other and laughed, but underneath it all even I, far removed from political intrigues, could detect the tension. Selim was introduced to the newcomers, though I observed that no names were mentioned. I led them into the house and then the dining room where breakfast was waiting to be served. Halil had insisted on total secrecy. Petrossian alone was entrusted to serve the meal. My brother did not want even the identity of the officers present to be known to anyone. The Baron and Memed were upset at being excluded, but accepted the decision with bad grace.

  I, too, was about to leave when one of the officers, the youngest among them, stopped me.

  “Is she your sister, General Halil?”

  My brother nodded. “Yes and she is the wife of our new friend.”

  “Is she on our side?” asked the same officer.

  I looked him straight in the eyes. “I am.”

  “Good,” he said in a deep and very serious voice. “Then you must stay. We want to end the situation where women are considered good only for the affairs of the heart or the home or, indeed, for purposes of procreation. We want them also to become experts in organising the affairs of the state. We want to stop encouraging them in the trivial activities they have invented to keep themselves busy while we work. The only reason my wife is not with us today is that her father is seriously ill. Are we agreed?”

  The others smiled and nodded. How strange, I thought to myself, that this young man with a pleasant face and a thin moustache can speak with such authority in the presence of three generals. Where does this confide
nce come from?

  The discussion during breakfast was deliberately low-key. They kept referring to the Committee. At first I thought it was the code-name for their leader, but it soon became clear that the Committee was a secret society to which they all belonged. I was angry that Selim had not mentioned it to me before and since the young officer had made such a fuss when he insisted on my presence I felt that my voice should be heard again.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen, but what is the Committee?”

  The young officer looked at Selim and Halil in disbelief. “Neither of you has told her?”

  Both men became sheepish and avoided my eye.

  “The Committee, madame,” said the officer, “is the name of the largest secret society ever created in the entire history of this Empire. It is the Committee of Union and Progress to which we all belong. It is secret, but they know we exist and their spies are everywhere. It is not restricted to soldiers, though we form the largest component within its ranks. There are many writers and officials who are members. Some of our best people operate from Paris and Salonika. Namik Kemal, whose play Vatan you may have seen or read, is one of our inspirers. After today, if you agree with our aims, we shall invite you to join the Committee. My wife is a very active member in Istanbul. She teaches at the Galatsaray lycée and is organising other like-minded women.”

  I told them I was honoured to be considered and they would have an answer from me by the evening. It was the older of the two generals who replied in a voice so soft and feminine that I seriously wondered whether he had been accidentally castrated. Unlike his colleague, he was not one of nature’s more imposing generals. He was short, clean-shaven and possessed a paunch whose size attracted attention. Because he was different from the other officers, I took a liking to him, but something must have gone wrong at some stage in his life. He spoke in the squeaky voice of a young girl and the effect was frankly disconcerting. I found it extremely difficult to maintain a serious face while he spoke.

  “We are delighted to have made your acquaintance. We must now retire to discuss certain logistical details in case there is an unforeseen emergency and we have to take action without the luxury of widespread consultation with other members. Unfortunately this discussion is exclusively for officers, but we shall be finished after lunch and would be delighted if you joined us in the afternoon.”

  I smiled and left the room. Outside in the garden I heaved a sigh of relief, sat down on the bench and began to laugh. I had been so taken with the morning that I had not noticed Uncle Memed comfortably seated on his favourite armchair underneath the walnut tree. He had been absorbed in a book and had initially frowned at the disturbance created by my laughter, but smiled when he saw that it was me. I was summoned with an imperious gesture of his forefinger. The Baron, who was never too far away from Uncle Memed, emerged from the other side of the tree, adjusting his pince-nez.

  “Share your joke with Favourite Uncle.”

  I explained why I was laughing and Memed, who had an infectious giggle, joined in as well, which made me laugh even more. I looked at the Baron, fully expecting a brief lecture on the human voice and the conditions that caused it to change or not to change, but he had suddenly become very distracted and thoughtful.

  “Baron?” asked Memed, worried by his friend’s demeanour.

  “An awful thought crossed my mind on hearing Nilofer’s story, but it is of no consequence. Now, young lady, are you aware that your children have been taken sailing by Salman?”

  “No. He never asked my permission. Neither of them can swim.”

  “They won’t need to. Just look at the sea. It is so calm today. I have been watching them through my binoculars and they all seem perfectly happy. Here, you have a look.”

  I borrowed the binoculars and walked to the bottom of the garden for a better view. It was as he said. They were not far from the shore, the sea appeared benign and all was well. None the less I felt nervous at the thought of them out at sea in my absence. I had never thought of death before Dmitri was murdered. Now I am often worried. What if I die? Who will take care of them and love them as I do? Sometimes I have dreams of anxiety in which the children are in danger and I am unable to reach them in time. These dreams are so powerful that I always wake up and rush to their bedchambers to make sure they are safely asleep.

  I shouted at Salman when they came back, but the children rushed to his defence. Over the last few weeks he had spent more time with them than us and I was sure he talked of Selim and how good it was that I had married again and was happy, because I noticed that Orhan had become friendly again.

  Curiously enough, Emineh, who was much closer to her father than Orhan, had shown no signs of resentment or hostility. In fact her relationship with Selim, which had barely existed before, was now warm and she was losing her shyness towards him. I gave them the binoculars so they could see the sailing boat in which they had just returned go further and further out to sea. Salman took my arm as we began to walk in the garden.

  “Is the conspiracy proceeding well, Nilofer? When can we look forward to our liberation?”

  “I will have a better idea by this evening, but you, who are knowledgeable and have travelled so much, should join the Committee.”

  He shook his head firmly. “On this subject I am in agreement with my father completely. It is another reason for our closeness to each other. We both feel that the Committee is too heavily dominated by uniforms. Getting rid of the beards and the eunuchs is a big leap forward, but replacing them with uniforms might not take us as far forward as we need to be if we are ever to catch up with our rivals.”

  “Who else is there to effect the change? The poets?”

  “Heaven be praised,” he laughed. “Nilofer, you have become one of them?”

  “I am thinking of it.”

  He talked of other fears. The last period of reform had been constructive. “Replacing the robe and the turban with the stambouline and the fez may have been symbolic, but it was a start. Most importantly, the edict of 1839 announcing the reforms was of an egalitarian character. It was also generous insofar as it offered the same opportunities to all the subjects of the Empire. Now the mood has changed. There are people in your committees who believe in purity and they, my dear sister, frighten me. I find that all talk of purity is very dangerous.”

  “Why?” I asked for the sake of argument. “Nobody accuses the Greeks of being dangerous when they want their purity and want to be separate from everyone else. In fact, most of Europe supports them.”

  “The question is,” said Salman, “are we going to slit the throat of every Greek who wishes to stay here? Just like your late husband? Is every Armenian going to be driven out of his house? Petrossian’s family have lived in their village for over five hundred years, just as long as the Ottomans have ruled these lands. Are we going to purify Petrossian’s village? These are the new questions that need to be answered. Ask your new friends what they mean to establish after they have put Sultan Abdul Hamid on a boat and pushed him in the direction of Britain.”

  Salman had forced me to think seriously about these matters. I was for a complete change, but I was not for purity at all, especially if it meant driving out all the Christian subjects of the Empire. Salman was surely right about that, but it is also true that there is always chaos when Empires begin to crumble.

  Would the Prophet Memed and his followers have been able to make such rapid progress if the Roman Empire had not been in a state of terminal decline? The Muslim armies had taken Spain with a few thousand soldiers. That would never have been possible if Rome had still been powerful. And our own Osman. Could he have prospered if the Eastern Empire had not begun to decay? What we had gained in the past was now being taken away from us as we began to decay. That was the way of the world. Britain and France were ahead of us as we were once ahead of the Romans and the Byzantines. There would be chaos when the Sultan fell. I did not have to be a deeply profound thinker to understand what anyone could see. T
he Committee was important because it might be able to control the chaos and minimise the confusion that lay ahead.

  I was about to join my new friends in the library when I noticed the Baron and Uncle Memed deep in conversation with Halil, who had been shaken by something the Baron had said to him. I saw him nod earnestly as the Baron spoke and then rush back into the house.

  An hour later, the Committee was in full session in the library. Halil appeared to be calm again. The general who had not spoken before cleared his throat, and we fell silent.

  “We can no longer look away from our own history. Our tendency is always to boast. We constantly look backwards and say to ourselves: we who once were nothing built a great Empire for the glory of Islam. Our children are constantly being taught of our victories and, it is true, there were many in the past, but our failure to understand our own decline is why we are now at an impasse. I do not wish to speak for a long time, but let me map our decline briefly. We have now been on the retreat for two centuries.

  “Our failure to take Vienna in 1683 was the turning point in our fortunes. The result of that was the Treaty of Karlowitz, which we signed exactly two hundred years ago in 1699, giving up Hungary to the Habsburgs and retreating to Belgrade. In 1774, it was Ottoman imbecility that gave the Russians the power to protect the interests of our Christian subjects. Why did the Sultan or his Vizier not ask in return for the right to protect the Russian serfs, since their treatment was an affront to our entire population?

  “More defeats followed in 1792, when the French were preparing to execute their King, and then we suffered again in 1799, 1812, 1829 and then just twenty years ago when we lost Serbia, Romania and Montenegro and the Austrians even took away Bosnia and Herzegovina. The French and English navies send in their ships to the outskirts of Istanbul and threaten us with punishments unless we follow their dictates. It is the end of this Empire. We must act now to limit the scale of the disaster. We could move in army units next week and take the Sultan, but it is pointless unless we are agreed as to what we shall put in his place. That is all I wish to say for the moment.”