A news item earlier this year
announced that a mosque in Thessaloniki, had been opened for Muslim
worshippers. Not such a big deal, you might think, if you are resident in
another major European city where mosques are a not uncommon feature of post-modern
multi-culturalism. The situation in Greece, however, is an altogether different
story, for a number of reasons.
- First, until the early 20th century there were over twenty mosques in that city, known in those days as Selanik, and a major city of the Ottoman Empire. Now there is one, and that opened in April this year.
- Second, Athens is the only European capital city that does not have a functioning mosque.
- Third, the newly re-opened mosque in Thessaloniki is actually 111 years old but served in its intended capacity for only twenty-one of those years. It was closed, along with all the other mosques in the city, in 1923, after the unsuccessful Greek invasion of Anatolia necessitated a population exchange according to religious affiliation.
- Fourth, the Yeni, or New Mosque, as it is called, designed by an Italian architect, is notable for its interior and exterior design. One writer describes it as: ‘A hybrid of European and Islamic styles, fusing Baroque, neoclassical, and Byzantine, it also contains Jewish features.’ The reason for this last peculiarity is that Thessaloniki/Selanik, was, in Ottoman times, one of Europe’s main centres of Jewish religion and culture. Some of those Jews, however, as a result of events I have described elsewhere, converted, at least overtly, to Islam – while continuing, according to some, to retain the practices of their original faith behind closed doors.
Greece and its next-door neighbour Turkey
have a strange relationship, whose intricacies can only be understood by a study
of their shared history. Visitors from one country to the other find great
similarities in the cuisine – and citizens of both nations argue heatedly about
who actually invented Turkish/Greek coffee, the delicious sweet pastry baklava,
or the stuffed vine-leaves known as dolma/dolmas. It has been said jokingly of
Britain and the United States that they are two countries divided by a common language.
It might be said of Greeks and Turks that they are one people divided by two
religions.
Some months ago I referred to a book I had
been reading, ‘Greece, the Hidden
Centuries’, and I undertook to write about it in more detail. In the mean
time, my attention was captured by political events in Turkey and Egypt, and my
promise remained unfulfilled. The situation in Turkey, at least, appears to
have settled down somewhat, and what’s happening in Egypt is there for all to
see – so the time has come to tell you about that very interesting book.
The author, David Brewer, seems to be an
unusually modest chap and you won’t learn much about him personally from Amazon’s author page, or even a Google search. The notes in my copy of
the book told me simply that Mr Brewer ‘is
the author of “The Flame of Freedom: The Greek War of Independence, 1821-1833”.
After studying Classics at Oxford University, he divided his life between
teaching, journalism and business before devoting himself to the study of the
history of Greece.’
What you will find, if you visit the
Amazon website, is an interesting range of opinions
indicating clearly that the author has ventured into controversial territory,
and challenged the strongly held beliefs of some readers. As one reviewer
comments, the book ‘is obviously anathema to the average Greek whose
notions of the period are derived from his grandmother, his church, and from
Greek political thought.’
One such Greek writes: ‘it is
evident by his conclusions that it is simply biased and one sided. I am sorry
Mr Brewer, but you have it very wrong on this one. I do not recommend this
book.’
With all due respect to that Greek
reviewer and his grandmother, you’d have to think that an Oxford Classics
graduate would have some sympathy for the Greek cause. That he took the trouble
to write a history of the Greek War of Independence (fought to break free from
the Ottoman Empire) would suggest a continuation of that sympathy into modern
times, and perhaps some detailed knowledge of the subject. In his introductory
notes to the book under discussion, Brewer informs the reader that, out of
respect for the Greeks who prefer to hold that they were ruled by Turks rather
than Ottomans, and have never accepted the loss of their Byzantine Empire, he
will speak of Turks and Constantinople (rather than Istanbul). This in itself should
convince an objective reader that the author has gone to some lengths to avoid
upsetting Greeks – even at the risk of offending Turks.
Brewer sets out the rationale for
the book in his prologue, subtitled ‘The
Greek View of Turkish Rule’, which he begins with an anecdote about the
arrival of an Ottoman official in a Greek village in 1705. The purpose of his
visit was to recruit fifty youths who would be taken to Istanbul to be trained
for service in the Sultan’s court or the elite military unit known as
Janissaries. There could be no refusal of course, but the villagers not only
refused – they killed the official then formed a band of outlaws whose
principal occupation was robbing and murdering Turks. Needless to say, the
Ottoman authorities took a dim view. Retribution was forceful and brutal.
The anecdote illustrates the
approved Greek view of Ottoman rule. Greeks were virtual slaves, the flower of
their male offspring were torn from their families by force, and any attempts
to assert their human rights met with vicious suppression. This state of
affairs continued from the fall of Constantinople in 1453 to the foundation of
the modern kingdom of Greece in 1833. During that black period of almost 400
years, referred to as Tourkokratia, Greeks
were under constant pressure to change their religion, were not allowed to
build churches, had to educate their children in secret to keep their language
alive, and were heavily taxed. It was a dark age where Greeks were cut off from
the processes of modernisation going on in the rest of Europe, and the Turks
left nothing of value to show for their four centuries of rule.
Challenging this received version of
history is not a task undertaken lightly. In his final chapter, ‘Some Conclusions’, Brewer gives an account
of an attempt by the Greek government in 2006 to introduce a new school history
textbook for twelve-year-olds. He quotes the Minister of Education, Marietta
Yannakou, as saying, ‘I believe in truth,
in what really happened in history. We must not tell children fairy tales at
school.’ In the face of fierce opposition from the Church, some academics
and the leader of the far-right political party, the textbook was withdrawn for
some judicious revision. In spite of that, Ms Yannakou lost her parliamentary
seat in the 2007 election, and the book disappeared from the education agenda.
Between his prologue and his
concluding remarks, Brewer covers all the pertinent issues in a detailed but
readable fashion. What was the status of Greeks before the Ottomans arrived?
What actually happened when the Ottomans conquered Constantinople? Would Greeks
have been free and happy if not for the Ottomans? Were all Greeks of one mind
on the question of freedom and independence? Did they get what they wanted in
the end?
Brewer limits his discussion largely
to the Greek mainland and the islands in the eastern Mediterranean and Aegean
Seas generally considered to be their territory. In fact, however, as he says
in his prologue, the Greek dream, formulated shortly after gaining independence
from the Ottomans, was the recreation of former Byzantine glory, a Great Idea (Megali Idea) envisaging an
empire centred, not on Athens, but on Constantinople. The likelihood of this,
however, had disappeared long before the Ottoman Sultan Mehmet II led his
victorious troops into that city.
The once great Roman Empire had lost
its western half when the city of Rome fell in 476 CE. The increasingly Greek
eastern Romans had two peaks of imperial greatness in the 6th and 10th
centuries – but found themselves constantly under threat from Arab and other
Islamic expansion from the south and east, and later from their Crusading
western Christian brethren. The latter, despite their stated purpose of
evicting the Muslim infidels from the ‘Holy Lands’, set up kingdoms and
principalities in former Byzantine territories, even besieging, sacking and
occupying for 57 years, the imperial capital in the early 13th
century.
In fact, long before 1453, Greeks
were predominantly a subject people – and even after that year, their overlords
were not Turks alone, but Europeans, especially Genoese and Venetians, masters
of the Mediterranean until the rise of Ottoman power largely supplanted them.
So, it was not from the Greeks themselves but from the Venetians that the
Ottomans seized mainland Greece, Chios and other Aegean islands in the early 16th
century, and Cyprus in 1570. Venetians had ruled the island of Crete for 400
years before finally surrendering it to the Ottomans in 1669, and for twenty
years after that, were still trying to reconquer the Greek mainland. Brewer
suggests it is at least open to debate whether Greeks were better off under
Venetian or Ottoman rule, given that the Italians were Catholics whose Church
had no great love for their schismatic eastern cousins.
President Obama meets with Bartholomew I, Patriarch of the Orthodox Church based in Istanbul, Turkey |
Contrary to the commonly painted
portrait of the Turks as brutal suppressors of subject peoples, Muslims viewed
Christians and Jews as ‘people of the
book’. Orthodox Christians, Jews and Armenian Christians ‘each formed a partly self-governing
community, a millet. Each had a
spiritual head who was also to some extent the political leader: for the Jews
it was the Chief Rabbi, for the Armenians the Gregorian Patriarch, and for the
Orthodox, the Orthodox Patriarch’. According to Brewer, 100 years after the
conquest of Constantinople there were 77 churches on either side of the Golden
Horn. Even today, the Greek Orthodox and Armenian Patriarchs continue to
minister to their flocks from headquarters in Turkish Istanbul. My research
indicates that there are sixteen synagogues in modern Istanbul and somewhere
between forty and 123 churches. I can’t account for the discrepancy, but even the
radical Armenian website Armenian Weekly admits that there are 28 active Armenian churches. According to Wikipedia, at the beginning of the 20th century (70
years after mainland Greece became independent) there were 1.8 million Greeks
living in the Ottoman Empire. Even after the enforced population exchange of
1923, 200,000 of those ‘were permitted to
remain’ – all of which suggests that life under Ottoman rule must have had
some compensations.
Returning to Brewer’s book, the
author makes the interesting suggestion in his prologue that ‘Greek bitterness about past rulers largely
depends upon what happened after that rule ended, and has rather less to do
with the nature of the rule itself.’ Genoa and Venice, even Italy itself,
no longer wield much power in world affairs, so there is little to be gained
from venting spleen on them. Russia proved an unreliable ally over the centuries
of Ottoman rule – but in the end, with Britain and France, helped to win the
naval battle[1]
that secured Greek independence. Besides, they are fellow Orthodox Christians
(at least in history and traditional culture), so it’s harder to hate them. It
might have been a different story, however, if they had been allowed to fulfil
their ambitions of capturing Constantinople/Istanbul and controlling the
Bosporus Straits.
The Turks, however, for better or
worse, continue to occupy that city of cities, and show no signs of
relinquishing their hold. It was Turkish nationalists who turned back the Greek
invasion of Asia Minor, on which they had embarked with the encouragement of
their European allies, especially Great Britain. When their erstwhile friends
left them in the lurch, there was little to be gained by aiming recriminations
in that direction. It was Turks who drove the Greek army into the sea in the
victory that ensured Ottoman Orthodox Christians would have to be uprooted from
their ancestral homeland, to be exchanged for Muslims expelled from the Greek
mainland, in what Greeks came to know as the Asia Minor Catastrophe. For Turks,
on the other hand, it is the War of Liberation..
Brewer concludes his final chapter
with a quotation from a modern Greek poet, George Seferis: ‘The Greeks say it was the Turks who burned down Smyrna[2],
the Turks say it was the Greeks. Who will discover the truth? The wrong has
been committed. The important thing is: who will redeem it?’
It’s a step in the right direction that the
Greek government is reopening a mosque in Thessaloniki – though we might wonder
why they chose that one, with its dubious Islamic provenance, rather than the
15th century Hamza Bey Camii, which suffered the indignity of being
used as a cinema before being abandoned to decay. As for Athens, plans for a
mosque there seem to have stalled for a variety of reasons. Again, rather than
reopening one of the historic mosques in that city, despite Turkish government
offers to finance the project, the Greek government planned to erect a new
building from scratch, according to a Reuters report, ‘in a
disused naval base littered with weeds and rubble in a rundown neighborhood.’ Even that humble
proposal, however, seems to have foundered on the rocks of opposition from the
ultra-right Golden Dawn Party. Greek
construction companies are showing a reluctance to tender for the job, allegedly from ‘fears of intimidation’.
Brewer’s achievement in this book is to draw attention to a major act of
historiographical distortion. Of course all countries prefer to view their own
history in terms flattering to themselves, or evoking sympathy for their plight.
In this case, however, the Greek ‘fairy tale’ has found wide acceptance beyond
their own shores. It is not merely 400 years of history that have been hidden.
From the final conquest of the Greek city states by the army of Rome in 146 BCE
to the foundation of the independent kingdom in 1832, there was no Greek
political entity as such. The Byzantine greeks are a Western construct. That empire
considered itself Roman, and its church, Roman Orthodox (Rum Ortodoks in Turkish). It has suited Western powers, for various
political and quasi-religious reasons, and for a thousand years or more, to
pretend otherwise.
Thanks to David Brewer for lifting the veil. I found his argument to be
well researched and convincing. While detailed notes and an extensive
bibliography lend scholarly credibility, the author’s style is lively and
accessible to the non-academic reader. I think he has got this business pretty
right, and I emphatically recommend this book.
Greece: The Hidden Centuries: Turkish Rule from
the Fall of Constantinople to Greek Independence David Brewer (IB Tauris, 2010)
Thanks for the thorough and thoughtful review. It is rather interesting to note that there is still a contingent in Russia, the Third Rome supporters that see themselves as the defenders of Orthodoxy, and who still dream of conquering Tsargrad, Istanbul to you and me.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the feedback Kassandra. I'll definitely look into that Third Rome business - I hadn't heard of it before. I have a daughter called Cassandra :-)
DeleteGreat review of a really good book...thanks. Do you know "Ionian Vision" by Michael Llewellyn Smith? It covers the Greek presence in Turkey 1919-1922.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your encouraging comment, Norman. I hadn't come across that book, but I'll definitely look out for it.
Delete