In attempting to do two things, give a more detailed look at selected particulars of Ottoman history and engage in moral judgment, Andrew Wheatcroft is successful at the first but a failure at the second. His glimpses of selected historical events, such as the fall of Constantinople and the dissolution of the Janissaries, provide thorough surveys of the turning points in the Ottoman Empire that do well in the accompaniment of more wide ranging histories of the Empire. Read this volume alongside Kinross, and the reader will learn a lot.

But the attempts at moralizing fizzle into irrelevancy. It is a quarter of a century now since Wheatcroft wrote his book. And, for that time it was written, the early 1990s, the hypocrisy of the West as judged against other cultures, was much in vogue--as it still is. But Wheatcroft was faced with a bit of a dilemma. How to fit the Ottoman Turks into that narrative. How to sympathize? How to appreciate? He fails because, instead of appreciating, he becomes ingratiating.

Two examples. First, the role of women. He is at some pains to show that the treatment of Ottoman women was not so bad as the West portrayed in what Wheatcroft thinks was propaganda and prejudice. So he introduces the writing of Western women visiting the Empire to prove his point. Those Western women find much appealing and even superior, they claim, in Ottoman institutions that give women freedom at home and in the street (the latter through the anonymity of dress). All of which brings up the question: if Ottoman women were so much freer than Western women, then we should certainly be able to see examples of Ottoman women visiting the West and writing of such. Where is the Ottoman counterpart of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu upon whom Wheatcroft so relies? Perhaps there is a counterpart. But I don't know it from reading this book. Wheatcroft was obligated to show us the same emancipated Ottoman woman free to comment and compare the Empire to the West.

The second example is sexuality. You can almost see Wheatcroft attempting to touch all the bases of hypocrisy without getting himself in trouble. But alas for the author so concentrated on moral hypocrisy, the passage of time often is not kind. Thus when once again explaining Western hypocrisy, this time regarding homosexuality, Wheatcroft engages in negative hypocrisy. That is, he believes both the Ottomans and the West were morally undermined by sexual perversion of an equal nature. Some twenty-five years later? Mr. Wheatcroft, meet LGBTQ.

This is the danger in moralizing history. Just describe and explain. That works well enough. Even compare. That works well, too. But to rely on comparing only morals simply means time and shifting attitudes will date your arguments and weaken them. Wheatcroft wants sympathy for the Ottomans and national redemption for the Turks. He should have let his historical narratives either make the case or not. Special pleading, here, weakened it, instead. Kinross was much more clever in his historical argumentation: he simply used narrative scissors to advance his preferred storyline. And because of that, Kinross' book on the Ottomans continues to be accepted and read. Wheatcroft, unfortunately, left his volume too much set in the attitudes of the early 1990s. It has become a period piece whose interpretations seem too much trapped by the fashion of his times. ( )

I thought this book was good for getting a general idea about the history of the Ottoman Empire; however, I thought that it could have been improved with better organization. The book follows thematic chapters that are mostly chronological but not always. This made it difficult for me to follow the stream of Ottoman history and to see the overarching themes in their history. Making matters worse was the fact that the book is unclear about which Ottoman images are being dissolved. In some instances, situations in the book seem to reinforce rather than dissolve common images of the Ottomans. ( )

A useful and interesting history.