Freemasonry in the Ottoman Empire

A History of the Fraternity and its Influence in Syria and the Levant

Dorothe Sommer

• Publisher: I.B. Tauris
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780857739186
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

The network of freemasons and Masonic lodges in the Middle East is an opaque and mysterious one, and is all too often seen – within the area – as a vanguard for Western purposes of regional domination. But here, Dorothe Sommer explains how freemasonry in Greater Syria at the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth century actually developed a life of its own, promoting local and regional identities. She stresses that during the rule of the Ottoman Empire, freemasonry was actually one of the first institutions in what is now Syria and Lebanon which overcame religious and sectarian divisions. Indeed, the lodges attracted more participants – such as the members of the Trad and Yaziji Family, Khaireddeen Abdulwahab, Hassan Bayhum, Alexander Barroudi and Jurji Yanni - than any other society or fraternity. Freemasonry in the Ottoman Empire analyses the social and cultural structures of the Masonic network of lodges and their interconnections at a pivotal juncture in the history of the Ottoman Empire, making it invaluable for researchers of the history of the Middle East.

CHAPTER 1

THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE IN THE LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY

On the one hand, the Ottoman elite certainly admired and respected Western inventions, economic and political power and scientific progress. On the other hand, it feared modernity and modernisation. Additionally, the Western codex of behaviour was not always compatible with the Ottoman system of values.¹

The term nahda comprises and describes various efforts of Arab intellectuals to return to, or to revitalise, Arabic language and culture. Unlike the European Renaissance, which was ‘associated with a reflection of values and virtues from the ancient Greek-Roman world’, the nahda partly consisted of ‘a westernisation; hence it stood for a revival by means of a modern, but culturally foreign reference system’. Though, as Glaß noted, one has to keep in mind the need not to construct a too strict a dichotomy between a modern and a traditional society, as both concepts are not fully able to express the mixed and dynamic conditions that prevailed in reality.²

Confronted with European conceptions of modernity and modernisation, ideas for reform developed in line with a new understanding of identity. Arab intellectuals rethought their rich historical heritage, also predating Islam, which was expressed in language, culture and science.

I would disagree with the translation of nahda as ‘Arabic Enlightenment’, as this artificially equates it with the European Enlightenment.³ According to Norman Hampson, the European Enlightenment was a consequence of the scientific revolution relating to the individual and his/her capability of ‘indefinite expansion of knowledge’, while at the same time propagating ‘religious toleration and the assumption that whatever was conducive to human happiness was also in accordance with the will of god’.⁴ In contrast, the nahda did not define one unified way of thinking; rather it referred to the search for identity during a time of insecurity when former relations and centres of reference had lost their meaning. Relying on a common culture and language, ideologies and trends of thinking began to spread in the Ottoman Empire, which included some groups, meanings, and practices, but as Fatma Müge Göçek argues, excluded others in an on-going process of reinvention.⁵ Therefore, the nahda was not only an aim in itself, but also described a tool to promote different ideas already rooted or noticeable in the historical heritage of the region by rendering them compatible with Western ideas of modernity. It stood for a cultural reform movement that influenced and produced various forms of intellectual output.⁶ The nahdists tried to base their own sense of belonging on a new identity, which was characterised by the Arab language and culture and expressed in the new tools of communication.⁷

Lichtenstein defined identity as the capacity to remain the same in the midst of constant change. This partly explains the struggle of the population living within the Ottoman Empire. When people create their identities in a cultural and social context, in which language is central to the process of identification, then this process must be questioned as soon as other cultures and languages start to threaten and undermine these traditional values. Such a process was taking place in the Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth century. This was partly caused by the progressive globalisation of the economic market and Western penetration into Ottoman territory and also the loss of parts of the Empire. This again led to continuous waves of migration – one of the main factors that contributed to the breakdown and collapse of traditional, social, economic and ethnic structures fundamental for the stability of the Ottoman Empire.⁸ With the migration of Eastern Europeans and the loss of Christian provinces, the composition of the Ottoman Empire had changed drastically.

[A]fter 1862 millions of Muslim refugees from Crimea, the Balkans, and the Caucasus began pouring into Ottoman territories [. . .]. The influx of huge numbers of refugees transformed the remnant of the Ottoman Empire into a predominantly Muslim state. [. . .] a drastic transformation of both the religious-cultural structure and the economic conditions in the Ottoman state was taking place and profoundly affecting many of its people.⁹

This is not to say that the number of inhabitants changed dramatically, but migrations serve as an indicator for individual movements and the loss of a sense of social community. The jigsaw-like diversity in Greater Syria remained evident until 1914, with more than 80 per cent of Syria’s population being Muslim and over 40 per cent in present day Lebanon.

Until the beginning of the nineteenth century there had only been ‘three large millets in the entire Ottoman Empire for all non-Muslims (the Armenian, the Greek and the Jewish)’. During the nineteenth century though, following ‘the creation of Uniate churches, the emergence of particularism followed by the eruption of nationalist movements’ and as a result of pressure from the European powers, the Porte recognised a number of millets and patriarchates. Among them were the ‘Armenian Catholics (1830) and the Armenian Protestants (1850), the Greek Catholic patriarchate (1837), followed by the Greek Catholic millet (1848), the Chaldean patriarchate (1843, confirmed in 1861), and the Syrian-Catholic patriarchate (1843, confirmed in 1866)’.¹⁰

Workers in old professions were faced with dwindling job opportunities as technological inventions required new skills. At the same time, these improvements and innovations were labour-saving, which meant that fewer men were needed. The destruction of traditions and habits left vacuums to be filled by religious sects and ideological movements.¹¹ While some lost out due to the opening up towards the West, others benefitted at the same time from growing Western trade influence.¹²

In addition, new laws and an administrative rearrangement of the territorial units, alongside actions taken by the Ottoman authorities in order to overcome the crisis and to fabricate a new form of identity for their imperial subjects against the rise of nationalisms, aggravated the atmosphere of uncertainty and insecurity. A concerted effort by the authorities concentrated on the levelling of distinct cultural and religious affiliations. This was subsequently marked by an emphasis on the importance of the Turkish language, which was codified as the language of the state in the constitution of 1876.¹³

While this step was not well received by Arab Ottomans, they still tried to find a common denominator. The same was valid for the Syrian intellectuals: ‘On the one hand, they highlighted Arab superiority over the Turks in administration and culture [. . .] On the other, they often expressed their preference for continued Ottoman rule because, as one writer put it, “Arabs would not be secure in their welfare and future if Istanbul” were not in the hands of the Turks’.¹⁴

They were not seeking complete separation or independence from the Ottoman Empire, but rather decentralisation and more autonomy. To this, Choueiri adds: ‘the rediscovery of Arabic civilisation as a glorious golden age, coupled with an earnest desire to acquire knowledge of the modern European world, were the hallmarks of this cultural movement’.¹⁵ Its advocates produced a collective narrative in order to construct and reconstruct shared experiences by using the cultural sphere, since it embodied, in some ways, a final sanctuary, which still escaped ‘the material domination of the West in science and technology’.¹⁶

Later the call for more autonomy was replaced by a demand for complete independence based on a shared ethnicity, language or territorial contiguity. The spread of literacy and the rise of an educated public were preconditions to this development. However, during the second half of the nineteenth century, men were still thinking of ways to save the Empire: ‘there were many who still believed that the Empire, faced with the inexorable rise of nationalism, could be saved by building a new society under the banner of unity and equality of the people’.¹⁷

The Ottoman Empire was characterised by its multinational composition and the majority of scholars agree upon the fact that it was only at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries, that different Arab nationalisms started to emerge.¹⁸ This was partly a consequence of the territorial and political concessions the Ottoman Empire had to make. Before, questions of national belonging were neither asked nor had they been decisive.

However, in the second half of the nineteenth century, with Ottoman rulers unable to provide protection, security and stable social environments for their subjects, people started to forge new loyalties. Hence, the origin of patriotism and later onwards nationalism in the Arab world has various roots to be found outside and inside the Ottoman Empire. Thus, one reason for its growth was as a consequence of perceived insecurity or a threat by ‘the others’ – whether this was from Western colonialists or the Turkish-speaking part of the Ottoman population. This may well have been a realistic fear, but at the same time it was also an imagined menace created through the formulation and dissemination of nationalist ideology.¹⁹ The dominant social and socio-cultural insecurity underlying patriotism and nationalism also enforced the search for social cohesion, which was found in freemasonry. Patriotism, defined as loyalty to one’s own country related to religion, ethnic group, socio-cultural belonging and/or government can be seen as one main factor helping freemasonry’s expansion. Freemasonry was supposed to be the tool to weld society together.

Different social, political and economic factors determined the emergence of various ideologies, which did not constitute a momentous change but must be seen as a process in which boundaries were constantly renegotiated. As Göçek highlights, the past and the present ‘are told and retold to include the historical memories of certain social groups, to privilege certain symbols and myths, and to overlook others’.²⁰

The Noble Edict of Gülhane, or Rose Chamber Edict, enacted in 1839 was supposed to stop the growth of separatist movements contradicting the Ottoman idea of forging loyalty to the Ottoman Sultan.²¹ It ‘promised new laws guaranteeing life and property rights, prohibiting bribery, and regulating the levying of taxes and the conscription and tenure of soldiers. [. . .] In addition, it heralded the abolition of the odious system of tax farming and the establishment of an equitable draft system.’ But most important, these laws were to apply to all Ottoman subjects – irrespective of their religious affiliation.²² The edict was certainly thought to be a way to deal with growing European pressure for domestic reforms, but it was not ‘appeasement of European powers’ alone which led Ottoman bureaucrats to draft this document: ‘they sincerely believed in the modernisation of the Ottoman conception of government based in parts on concepts borrowed from abroad’.²³ Mustafa Rashid Pasha, Mehmed Emin Ali Pasha and Mehmed Fu’ad Pasha acted as leaders of the Sublime Porte, who tried in a top-down way to push through their reform proposals, overseeing ‘the entire administration of the state, ruling the empire until 1871 with only trivial interference from the imperial palace or the ulema’.²⁴ Though religion was thought to lose its dominant role, the non-denominational ideological basis of the state ‘remained the most delicate and challenging issue for the administration until the end of the Ottoman era’ and Islam was never removed as ‘a pillar ...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Illustrations
• Acknowledgements
• Transliteration System
• Abbreviations
• Introduction
• 1. The Ottoman Empire in the Late Nineteenth Century
• 2. Masonic Principles Challenged
• 3. Masonic Grand Bodies
• 4. Freemasonry in Beirut
• 5. Freemasonry on Mount Lebanon
• 6. Freemasonry in Tripoli and El Mina
• Conclusion
• Appendix I Chronology of the Ottoman Empire with a Focus on the Late Period (1860–1910)
• Notes
• Bibliography
• Index
• Index of Persons
• eCopyright