Alan Palmer (1) (1926–)

Like England’s Charles II, the Ottoman Empire took “an unconscionable time dying.” Since the seventeenth century, observers had been predicting the collapse of this so-called Sick Man of Europe, yet it survived all its rivals. As late as 1910, the Ottoman Empire straddled three continents. Unlike the Romanovs, Habsburgs, or Hohenzollerns, the House of Osman, which had allied itself with the Kaiser, was still recognized as an imperial dynasty during the peace conference following World War I.

The Decline and Fall of the Ottoman Empire offers a provocative view of the empire’s decline, from the failure to take Vienna in 1683 to the abolition of the Sultanate by Mustafa Kemal (Atatürk) in 1922 during a revolutionary upsurge in Turkish national pride. The narrative contains instances of violent revolt and bloody reprisals, such as the massacres of Armenians in 1896, and other “ethnic episodes” in Crete and Macedonia. More generally, it emphasizes recurring problems: competition between religious and secular authority; the acceptance or rejection of Western ideas; and the strength or weakness of successive Sultans. The book also highlights the special challenges of the early twentieth century, when railways and oilfields gave new importance to Ottoman lands in the Middle East.

Events of the past few years have placed the problems that faced the last Sultans back on the world agenda. The old empire’s outposts in the Balkans and in Iraq are still considered trouble spots. Alan Palmer offers considerable insight into the historical roots of many contemporary problems: the Kurdish struggle for survival, the sad continuity of conflict in Lebanon, and the centuries-old Muslim presence in Sarajevo. He also recounts the Ottoman Empire’s lingering interests in their oil-rich Libyan provinces. By exploring that legacy over the past three centuries, The Decline and Fall of the Ottoman Empire examines a past whose effect on the present may go a long way toward explaining the future.
From: Goodreads… (more)

Informative. Author Alan Palmer presents a narrative history rather than a political or economic analysis, starting with the 1683 Siege of Vienna – the Ottoman Empire’s European high water mark. The reasons for the collapse are easy enough to deduce, however; like every other failed empire, external and internal pressures combined.


The external pressure came mostly from Russia and Austria-Hungary; England, France and Italy didn’t get into the act until relatively late. (However England contributed strongly to the outcome of the Greek independence movement and the de facto independence of Egypt). When I think of “Russo-Turkish” war, what first comes to mind is the 1877-1878 war, with the Siege of Plevna. However, Palmer notes wars in 1711 (Ottoman victory, Azov to the Ottomans); 1711 (no decision); 1735-1738 (Azov to Russia); 1768-1774 (Crimean independence, Russian territorial gains in the Ukraine and Caucasus); 1787-1792 (Crimea annexed by Russia, Russian territorial gains in the Ukraine); 1806-1812 (Bessarabia and part of Georgia to Russia); 1828-1829 (Georgia, Armenia, Wallachia, Moldova to Russia, Greece and Serbia autonomous); 1853-1856 (Crimean War; Moldova and Wallachia to the Ottomans; Russia forbidden a Black Sea Fleet (later unilaterally renounced); 1877-1878 (more of the Caucasus to Russia, Bulgaria, Montenegro, Serbia, Romania independent; Bosnia-Herzegovina to Austria-Hungary; Cyprus to Great Britain); and, of course, 1914-1917 (some bits and pieces of the Caucasus back to Turkey; Russia to hell in a handbasket). The Tsar’s strategy, which was working fairly well until 1917 intervened, was to nibble their way to Constantinople (it was Nicolas I who coined the phrase “sick man of Europe”). The Austro-Hungarians tried to pick up pieces while the Ottomans were distracted by Russia, and generally succeeded as well. The Italians got Libya and the Dodecanese in 1911-1912, and the Greeks, Bulgarians, Serbs, and Montenegrins detached little slices in 1912-1913 (the Ottomans got a little back in the Second Balkan War, 1913). The slow loss of the European provinces was more significant than it might initially seem; these contained about 40% of the empires population, and a much larger fraction of its military.


In the meantime, of course, various internal conflicts broke out, often more or less in conjunction with external attacks. After several hundred year of being content (well, maybe not content, but at least acquiescent) to being Ottomans, Serbs, Montenegrins, Greeks, Cretans, Bulgarians, Romanians, Lebanese, Egyptians, Iraqis, Kuwaitis, Kurds, Georgians, Armenians, Kurds, Tunisians and Saudis decided they wanted to be their own countries. Ironically, the Turks themselves got into the act at the end, deciding that they were a country and not an empire, which resulted in the expulsion of tens of thousands of people who had been living in Turkey for centuries.


The slow metamorphoses of the Janissaries also contributed to the decline. Originally, the Janissaries (from the Turkish yeni ҫeri, “new soldiers”) were slaves drawn from six-year-old male Christian children (theoretically from anywhere but in fact mostly from the European provinces). Converted to Islam, they were forbidden to marry, own houses, engage in business, or grow beards. In exchange they got good pay and (if they survived) retirement benefits. There were elite among the elite, the serdengeҫi, who made up assault forces (I wonder if these are the origin of Frank Herbert’s sardaukar?) The Janissary concept worked quite well for a long time. Because their only loyalty was to the Sultan, they never formed local attachments and made excellent internal security troops. Unfortunately for the Ottomans, their reputation outlasted their effectiveness; the restrictions on janissaries were gradually relaxed; they were allowed to marry, then live outside the barracks, then own businesses. As the empire ran down, the janissaries became more and more like a fraternal organization or political party (or perhaps like the Praetorian Guard) and less and less like a military force. The final attempt to use a janissary unit in a military action, in 1811, resulted in 11400 desertions out of an initial force of 13000 – after a 35 mile march. In 1826 Sultan Mahmud II staged a sort of reverse coup d’état; Mahmud II had been gradually reforming the regular Ottoman army – especially the artillery. When the Sultan announced a reduction in janissary privileges, they predictably revolted – and were crushed by cannon fire.


It’s a little disappointing that Palmer doesn’t pay too much attention to the economics of the Empire. The main reason for decline here was religious resistance to change (it is perhaps significant that the Arabic word for “heretic” can also be translated “innovator”). Although various Western innovations were gradually introduced, it was generally over the vehement protests of the religious authorities (as one example, the first printing press didn’t appear in Turkey until almost 300 years after its adoption in Europe). The religious leaders had a surprising (to me at least) influence over politics and the economy. I had tended to think of the Sultan as an all-powerful autocrat; however, of the last 18 Sultans, 9 were deposed or ruled in name only. The deposition usually came at the hands of the ulema; in theory all the faithful but in fact the leading clergy. The deposed Sultan usually retired to a guarded suite of rooms in one of the palaces; he was frequently (although not inevitably) found dead a short time after his deposition. The new Sultan could only come from a male of the Ottoman family; originally Sultans insured there would be no family opposition by having all their brothers and uncles strangled as part of their “coronation” (girding with the Sword of Osman) ceremony (given the realities of harem life – one Sultan had 103 sons – this could get messy). By the time of Palmer’s account, things had tempered a little and prospective royal claimants were instead “caged” – kept in a palace apartment. This lead to some unusual situations – several of the Sultans had been “caged” for 30 to 40 years before they ascended the throne, not exactly a situation conducive to learning statecraft.


The final decades of the Empire were complex; a constitution had been forced on the Sultan, and there was a representative assembly. Immediately a variety of political parties sprung up and went at each other’s throats. Turkey’s entry into WW I was not a forgone conclusion – even though there was considerable German influence – but the Royal Navy’s confiscation of two Turkish battleships just before they were launched was a considerable insult to Turkish public opinion (I expect the Foreign Office had never really considered Turkish “public opinion” before). The German battlecruiser Goeben showed up in Constantinople, having evaded the British and French navies; Admiral Souchon was made Commander in Chief of the Ottoman Navy and put his crew in fezzes. He then, apparently without notifying the Ottoman government, went off and bombarded Odessa and Sevastopol, and that, so to speak, was that.


Well-written history of a subject that was mostly new to me. It could use a couple of table for chronological reference – a list of Sultans, for example. There are no photographs, which is excusable. The maps are barely adequate; the index is rather sparse, but there is a handy glossary of Turkish words connected with government and the military.… (more)