CHAPTER XVIII.EDUCATION AMONG THE MOSLEMS.Home Education.—Influence of the Mother—Disrespect of Children—Toys—No Bath nor any Exercise—Bad Influence of Servants—No Discipline—Dirtiness—Dress—Food—Conversation—Tutors—Nurses—Immoral Influence of the Dadi—The Lala—Turkish Girls and Education—An Exceptional Family—Turks “educated†at Paris—Religious Shackles.Moslem Schools.—Mektebs, or National Schools—Dogmatic Theology taught—Reforms—Rushdiyés—Idadiyés—Teachers’ School—Reforms of Ali and Fouad Pasha—The Schools of Salonika—State of Education in these Schools—Moslem View of Natural Science—The Dulmé Girls’ School—The Turkish Girls’ School—TheLyceum: its Design, Temporary Success, and Present Abandonment—TheMedressés—Education of the Upper Classes—Official Ignorance.
Home Education.—Influence of the Mother—Disrespect of Children—Toys—No Bath nor any Exercise—Bad Influence of Servants—No Discipline—Dirtiness—Dress—Food—Conversation—Tutors—Nurses—Immoral Influence of the Dadi—The Lala—Turkish Girls and Education—An Exceptional Family—Turks “educated†at Paris—Religious Shackles.
Moslem Schools.—Mektebs, or National Schools—Dogmatic Theology taught—Reforms—Rushdiyés—Idadiyés—Teachers’ School—Reforms of Ali and Fouad Pasha—The Schools of Salonika—State of Education in these Schools—Moslem View of Natural Science—The Dulmé Girls’ School—The Turkish Girls’ School—TheLyceum: its Design, Temporary Success, and Present Abandonment—TheMedressés—Education of the Upper Classes—Official Ignorance.
The absence of any approach to sound education of the most rudimentary kind throughout the country is among the prime causes of the present degraded condition of the Turks. Both at home and at school the Moslem learns almost nothing that will serve him in good stead in after life. Worse than this, in those early years spent at home, when the child ought to have instilled into him some germ of those principles of conduct by which men must walk in the world if they are to hold up their heads among civilized nations, the Turkish child is only taught the first steps towards those vicious habits of mind and body which have made his race what it is. The root of the evil is partly found in the harem system. So long as that system keeps Turkish women in their present degraded state, so long will Turkish boys and girls be vicious and ignorant.
Turkish mothers have not the slightest control over their children. They are left to do very much as they like, become wayward, disobedient, and unbearably tyrannical. I have often noticed young children, especially boys, strike, abuse, and even curse their mothers, who, helpless to restrain them, either respond by a torrent of foul invective, or, in their maternal weakness, indulgently put up with it, saying, “Jahil chojuk, né belir?†(“Innocent child! what does it know?â€)
I was once visiting at a Pasha’s house, where, among the numerous company present, a shrivelled-up old lady made herself painfully conspicuous by the amount of rouge on her cheeks. The son of my hostess, an impudent little scamp of ten years, independently marched in, and, roughly pulling his mother by her skirt, demanded abeshlik(shilling); she attempted a compromise, and offered half the sum, when the young rascal, casting side glances at the painted old lady, said, “A wholebeshlik, or I will out with all you said about thathanoumand her rouged cheeks, as well as that other one’s big nose!†My friend, exceedingly embarrassed, under this pressure, acceded to her son’s demand, the only way she could see of getting rid of his troublesome company.
As a general rule the manner in which children use their mothers among the lower classes is still worse, and quite painful to witness. When these youngsters are not at school they may be seen playing in the street, paddling in the water near some fountain, making mud-pies, or playing with walnuts and stones, at times varying their amusements, in some retired quarter, by annoying Christian passers-by, calling outGiaour gepek!(“Infidel dogâ€), and throwing stones at them. Under the parental roof they express their desires in an authoritative tone, calling out disrespectful exclamations to their mothers.
Should their requests meet with the slightest resistance, they will sit stamping with their feet, pounding with their hands, clamoring and screaming, till they obtain the desired object. The mothers, who have as little control over themselves as over their children, quickly lose their temper, and begin vituperating their children in language of which a very mild but general form is,Yerin dibiné batasen!(“May you sink under the earth!â€)[35]
Turkish children are not favored with the possession of any of the instructive books, toy-tools, games, etc., that European ingenuity has invented for the amusement of children, and which may be obtained at Constantinople and other cities of Turkey; the only playthings they possess are rattles, trumpets, a rude species of doll (made of rag-bundles), cradles, and a kind ofpolichinello, fashioned, in the most primitive manner, of wood, and decorated with a coarse daub of bright-colored paint, applied without any regard to artistic effect. These are sometimes sold in the chandlers’ shops, but are only exposed for sale in large quantities during the Bairams, when they make their appearance, piled in heaps on a mat, in the thoroughfares nearest the mosques.
A Turkish child is never known to take a cold bath in the morning; is never made to take a constitutional walk, or to have his limbs developed by the healthy exercise of gymnastics. No children’s libraries exist, to stimulate the desire for study—for which, it is true, little taste is displayed. Among the higher classes an unnaturally sedate deportment is expected from children when in the presence of their father and his guests, before whom they present themselves with the serious look and demeanor of old men, make a deep salaam, and sit at the end of the room with folded hands, answering with extreme deference the questions addressed to them. Out of sight, and in the company of menials, they have no restraint placed upon them, use the most licentious language, and play nasty practical jokes; or indulge in teasing the women of the harem to any extent; receiving all the time the most indecent encouragement, both by word and action, from the parasites, slaves, and dependants hanging about the house. No regular hours are kept for getting up and going to bed. The children, even when sleepy, obstinately refuse to go to their beds, and prefer to stretch themselves on a sofa, whence they are carried fast asleep. On rising, no systematic attention is paid either to their food, ablutions, or dressing. A wash is given to their faces and hands; but their heads, not regularly or daily combed, generally afford shelter to creeping guests, that can only be partially dislodged at theHammam.
Their dress, much neglected, is baggy and slovenly at all times; but it becomes a ridiculous caricature when copied from the European fashion; shoes and stockings are not much used in the house, but when worn, the former are unfastened, and the latter kept up by rags hanging down their legs. Agedjlik(night-dress) of printed calico, anintari(dressing-gown),ayak-kab(trousers), and alibardé(quilted jacket), worn in the house, do duty both by night and day.
Children are allowed to breakfast on anything they find in the larder or buy from the hawkers of cakes in the streets.
No person exercising the functions of governess, nursery governess, or head nurse, exists in harems. There is no reserve of language observed before young girls, who are allowed to listen to conversations in which spades are very decidedly called spades. The absence of refined subjects naturally leads the tone of these conversations, at times, to so low a level as to render its sense quite unintelligible to the European listener, though it is perfectly understanded of the Turkish maiden.
Turks sometimes havehodjasas tutors for their sons; but these are not always professional instructors of youth, and their supervision over their pupils seldom extends beyond the hours of study. Thehodjas, belonging to religious orders, are grave, sanctimonious persons; having little in common with their pupils, who find it difficult to exchange ideas with them, and thus to benefit in a general way by their teaching. Pooreffendisorkyatibsare sometimes engaged to fill the office of tutors, but their inferior position in the house deprives them of any serious control over their charges. Thedadi, appointed to attend upon the child from its earliest infancy, plays a great part during its youthful career; her charge, seldom separated from her, will, if she be good and respectable, benefit by her care; but if she be the reverse, her influence cannot be anything but prejudicial, especially to boys, whose moral education, entirely neglected at this stage, receives a vicious impulse from this associate. The fact that thedadi’sbeing the property of his parents gives him certain rights over her is early understood and often abused by the boy.
I have seen an instance of the results of these boyish connections in the house of a Pasha, who, as a child, had formed a strong attachment for hisdadi, and, yielding to her influence, had later been induced to marry her, although at the time she must have been more than double his age. When I made her acquaintance she was an old woman, superseded by four young companions, whose lives she made as uncomfortable as she could by way of retaliation for the pain her husband’s neglect was causing her. The fourth and youngest of these wives, naturally the favorite, nearly paid with her life for the affection she was supposed to have diverted from theBash Kadin(first wife); for the quondamdadi, taking advantage of her rival’s unconsciousness whilst indulging in a siesta, tried to pour quicksilver into her ears. The fair slumberer fortunately awoke in time; and the attempted crime was passed over in consideration of the culprit’s past maternal services, and of the position she then held.
Next to the important functions ofdadithose oflalamust be mentioned. He is a male slave into whose care the children of both sexes are intrusted when out of the harem. He has to amuse them, take them out walking, and to school and back. His rank, however, does not separate him from his fellow servants, with whom he still lives in common; and when the children come to him, he takes them generally first to their father’s apartment, and then into the servants’ hall, where they are allowed to witness the most obscene practical jokes, often played upon the children themselves; and to listen to conversations of the most revolting nature, only to be matched I should think in western Europe among the most degraded inhabitants of the lowest slums. This is one of those evil customs that cannot be other than ruinous to the morality of Turkish children, who thus from an early age get initiated into subjects and learn language of which they should for years be entirely ignorant.
The girls are allowed free access into theselamlikup to the time they are considered old enough to wear the veil; which, once adopted, must exclude a female from further intercourse with the men’s side of the house. The shameful neglect girls experience during childhood leaves them alone to follow their own instincts; alternately spoiled and rudely chastened by uneducated mothers, they grow up in hopeless ignorance of every branch of study that might develop their mental or moral faculties and fit them to fulfil the duties that must in time devolve upon them.
I am glad to say that, in this respect, a change for the better is taking place at Constantinople: the education of the girls among the higher classes is much improved; elementary teaching, besides instruction in music and needlework, is given to them; and a few are even so highly favored as to have European governesses, who find their pupils wanting neither in intelligence nor in good-willto profit by their instruction. I have known Turkish girls speak foreign languages, but the number of such accomplished young ladies is limited, owing partly to the dislike which even the most enlightened Turks feel to allowing their daughters any rational independence; for the girls, they say, are destined to a life of harem restraint with which they would hardly feel better satisfied if they had once tasted of liberty; their life would only be less happy, instead of happier; ignorance in their case being bliss, it would be folly to make them wise!—If true, only another argument for the overthrow of the system.
Some time ago, when at Constantinople, I visited an old friend, a Christian by birth, but the wife of a Pasha. This lady, little known to thebeau mondeof Stamboul, a most ladylike, sweet woman, was married when her husband was a student in Europe and she a school-girl. She has held fast to her religion, and her enlightened husband has never denied her the rights of her European liberty; though, when in the capital, she wears theyashmak, out ofconvenance. Her children are Mohammedans. The daughter, now a young lady of eighteen, a most charming, accomplished girl, is justly named “The Budding Rose of the Bosphorus.†Some Turkish ladies acquainted with this family spoke of it to me as an example of perfection worthy of study and imitation. A truly poetical attachment binds the mother and daughter together, and finding no congeniality in their Mohammedan acquaintances, in the simplicity of their retired life they have become all in all to each other, and are doted upon by the father and brother. It was very pleasant to look upon the harmony that existed in this family, notwithstanding the wide differences in the customs and religions of its members. For many years I had lost sight of my friends, and at length found them caged up in one of the lovely villas on the Bosphorus; the mother now a woman of forty, the daughter a slim, bright fairy.
After the surprise caused by my visit and the friendly greetings were over, Madame B⸺, full of delight and happiness, related to me the engagement of her daughter to one of the wealthiest and most promising grandees ofLa Jeune Turquie, who, having just completed his studies in Paris, was expected in a few days to come and claim her as his bride. She was to dwell beneath the paternal roof, and I was taken to visit the apartments that had been prepared for the young couple. They were most exquisitely furnished, with draperies of straw-colored satin, richly embroidered by the deft fingers of the ladies. The mother, her face beaming with joy, said to me, “Am I not happy in marrying my daughter to an enlightened young Turk, who, there is every reason to expect, will prove as good and affectionate a husband to her as mine has been to me?â€
The young lady had known her affianced before his departure for Paris; full of faith and hope, she nourished a deep love for him, and, in the innocent purity of her heart, felt sure he responded to it.
I have not seen these ladies since, but a short time after my visit I was deeply grieved to hear that this seemingly well-adapted match was broken off in consequence of the young Bey having returned accompanied by a French ballet-dancer, whom he declared he did not intend to give up.
I have heard that, generally speaking, Paris is not the most profitable school for young Turks. Attracted by the immense amount of pleasure and amusement there afforded to strangers, they become negligent students, waste their time and money in profitless pursuits, keep company of the most doubtful kind, are led to contract some of the worst Parisian habits, and return to their country, having acquired little more than a superficial varnish of European manners. These they proudly display; but at heart they profoundly despise the nation whose virtues they failed to acquire, whilst they plunged freely into those vices which were more congenial to their habits and nature.
Those who are acquainted with Stamboul life may remember the sensation caused in 1873 by a band of young Turkish ruffians, who bore the name ofTussun, whose declared object was to initiate the youth of both sexes into those dark practices of the Asiatics still so prevalent among the upper classes. This abominable society was so strong that the police were, for a time, powerless against it. The chief of these vagabonds was stated to be the son of a member of the Sultan’s household, and the other young men were connected with some high Turkish families. It was only by the most active interference of the minister of justice that this fraternity was finally put down.
One of the great drawbacks the progress of education meets with among the Turks is the insurmountable repulsion Mohammedans feel to freeing this movement from the fetters of religion. The most enlightened of Turks will be found wanting in good-will and assistance when the question is that of promoting the current of liberal ideas at the cost of the religious dogmas which regulate all his social habits; and these retrograde notions cannot be openly repudiated even by those who profess no belief in the religion upon which they are supposed to be founded. These sceptical Turks, possessing no distinct conception of any philosophical school whose aim should be to replace prejudice and superstition by the propagation of free thought, based upon morality and scientific research, merely become reckless and unprincipled, but are of no more use than the bigoted party in helping forward an undenominational movement in education.
Until quite recent times the only public institutions for the education of the Turkish youth were those common to all Moslem countries, theMahallé Mektebs, or primary schools, and theMedressés, or Mosque-Colleges. TheMektebsare to Turkey, though in a still more inefficient way, what the old National Schools were to England. They are the universal, and till recently the only existing, instruments of rudimentary education for the children of both sexes of all classes. Like the old-fashioned National Schools, religion is the main thing taught; only in the Turkish Mektebs religion is pretty nearly the one thing taught. The little Turkish boys and girls are sent to these schools at a very early age, and pay for their instruction the nominal fee of one piastre (2¼d.) a month. Great ceremony attends the child’s first entrance. Its hands are dyed with henna; its head decorated with jewels; and it is furnished with a new suit of clothes, and an expensive bag calledSoupara, in which theMus-haf, or copy of the Koran, is carried. The father of the child leads it to the Mekteb, where it recites the Moslem creed to the Hodja, kisses his hand, and joins the class. The other children, after the recital of prayers, lead the novice home, headed by the Hodja, who chants prayers all the way along, the children joining in the response ofAmin! Amin!Refreshments and ten paras (a halfpenny) are offered to each child by the parents of the new scholar, on receipt of which they make a rush into the street and throng round the trays of the numerous hawkers who collect round the door on such occasions. This ceremony is repeated on the first examination, for which the Hodja receives £1 and a suit of linen. The teaching in these schools was, until recently, strictly limited to lessons from the Koran. The scholars, amounting in number sometimes to one or two hundred, are closely packed together in a school-room which is generally the dependence of the Mosque. Kneeling in rows, divided into tens by monitors who superintend their lessons, they learn partly from the book and partly by rote, all reading out the lesson at the same time, and swaying their bodies backwards and forwards. An old Hodja, with his assistant, sits cross-legged on a mat at one end of the room, before the chest which serves the double purpose of desk and bookcase. With the cane of discipline in one hand, a pipe in the other, and the Koran before him, the old pedagogue listens to and directs the proceedings of the pupils. Unruly children are subjected to the punishment of the cane and theFalakka, a kind of wooden hobble passed over the ankle of the culprit, who sometimes has to return home wearing this mark of disgrace. The Koran lessons, delivered in Arabic, are gibberish to the children, unless explained by the master; and the characters used in Koran writing are not well adapted for teaching ordinary Turkish handwriting.
It is easily seen what ample room for improvement there is in these establishments, where Moslems spend the best part of their childhood. Religion, taught in every-day language, simplified and adapted to the understanding of children, together with the rudiments of ordinary knowledge, would lay the foundation of a wiser and more profitable system of education than all these many years lost in poring over theological abstractions, comprehensible glimpses of which can only be conveyed to such young minds by the explanations of the Hodja, who is sure to dwell upon the most dogmatic and consequently the most intolerant points of Islam, and thus sows among the children ready-made ideas, the pernicious seed of that fanaticism which finds its early utterance in the wordsKafirandGiaour(infidel), and prompts the little baby to measure himself with his gray-bearded Christian neighbor, and in the assurance of superior election raise his hand to cast the stone of ineradicable contempt.
The finished scholars from these institutions may become Hodjas themselves, acquiring, if they choose, a knowledge of writing. Such is the system of primary education which has existed in Turkey ever since the Conquest. Happily this century has seen some improvements, not so much in the Mektebs as in the introduction among them of Government (so to say, Board) Schools on improved principles.
No era of the Ottoman history presents a more dismal picture of ignorance and incapacity than the close of the last century. The country appeared to be crumbling to pieces; and the nation seemed lost in the two extremes of apathy and fanaticism. Sultan Mahmoud’s sagacious mind saw wherein the evil lay, and attempted to remedy it by establishing schools more after the European model, and by this means spreading among his people the liberal ideas that alone could civilize and regenerate them. The difficulties he encountered in his praiseworthy and untiring efforts to bring about this change were great and varied. Nevertheless, he succeeded in establishing a few schools in the capital, which have served as bases to those that were instituted by his son and successor Abdul-Medjid. These latter consisted first ofRushdiyés, or preparatory schools, where boys of all classes are admitted on leaving the Mektebs, and are gratuitously taught Turkish, elementary arithmetic, the history of their country, and geography.
Next to these establishments come theIdadiyés, or more advanced preparatory schools, where boys are also admitted gratuitously, and remain from three to five years; they are instructed in the studies adapted to the careers they are destined to follow in the finishing medical, military, marine, and artillery schools to which they gain admittance on leaving the Idadiyés.
Besides these schools the capital contains some others of equal importance, such as a school for forming professors for the Rushdiyés,a school teaching foreign languages to some of theemployésof the Porte, a forest school, and one for mechanics.
The original organization of all these institutions is said to be good, but unfortunately the regulations are not carried out. The absence of a proper system of control and strict discipline, a want of attention on the part of the students, and of competence on that of the professors, are the chief characteristics of most of them.
In addition to the educational establishments of the capital, Rushdiyés have also been opened in all large country towns, and in some even Idadiyés. It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to state that there are no schools of any kind in country villages; the three R’s are there regarded as wholly superfluous luxuries.
Had the Turks followed up more systematically the movement thus happily begun; had it become general throughout the country, and been marked by proper care and perseverance, many of the evils which now beset Turkey might perhaps have been avoided. The contempt for the Christian generally displayed by the Moslem, engendered through ignorance and fanaticism, might have been softened into tolerance, and a more friendly feeling might have been created between them.
Education, however, received another impetus during the administration of Ali and Fouad Pashas, who by their united efforts succeeded in creating new schools and slightly improving those already existing.
Most of these institutions, excepting the medical college, were formerly open to Christian children only in name; under Ali and Fouad they became open in reality to a few, who took their places by the side of the Mohammedan boys.
The following is a list of the Turkish schools in the town of Salonika, which contains about 15,000 Mohammedan inhabitants, including 2500Dulmés, or Jews converted to the faith of the Prophet:—sevenMahallé Mektebs, or “National†schools; oneMekteb Rushdiyé, or Government school; one small private school for Turkish girls, established about twelve mouths ago; and two special schools for the Dulmés, one for girls and another for boys. TheMekteb Rushdiyéis supported by the Government, and has one superintendent and two masters, and is attended by 219 children, all day pupils. Teaching is divided into four classes; the first comprises poetry, the Turkish, Arabic, and Persian languages; the second, logic, mathematics, elementary arithmetic, and the rudiments of geography; the third, cosmography, Ottoman and universal history, writing; the fourth, preparatory lessons for beginners.
The mathematical and historical teaching is very deficient, and the whole system of instruction needs much improvement. Students on leaving this school may enter the Harbiyé, or military school, at Monastir, or continue their studies at theMedressé, where the Softas and Ulema graduate, or may attach themselves to some Government office as unsalaried Kyatibs, or scribes, calledChaouch, until a vacancy or some other chance helps them to a lucrative post.
The Dulmés, who are found in large numbers only at Salonika, have of late years shown a great desire to promote education among both sexes of their small but thriving community. The course of study followed in their boys’ school is similar to that of theRushdiyé, and, of course, includes the very elementary curriculum of the National schools. It has four classes, subdivided each into three forms; three masters, aided by monitors, superintend the studies. I visited this school, and found a great lack of order and discipline. First-class boys, seated on benches and before desks, were mixed up with the little ones, who, I was told, were placed there in order to be broken in to the school routine—a strange arrangement, unlikely to benefit either; at least it had been better for these mere infants to be placed in a class where lessons and exercises suited to their years were taught. Some of the big boys were examined, and, as far as I was able to judge, seemed well advanced in writing and in the knowledge of the Turkish language, but they did not appear equally well versed in mathematics or the scientific branches of study, which were evidently taught in a very elementary form, if one might judge by the simple questions put by the masters. This examination was concluded by the senior boys chanting in chorus the names of the days of the week and the months of the year! It must be borne in mind, however, that this establishment, which is said to be the best in the town, was opened only eighteen months ago.
With regard to the higher branches of study, I was far more edified during an examination of theRushdiyéandHarbiyéschools at Adrianople, where some of the pupils had produced well-executed maps and drawings, and had also distinguished themselves in mathematics; the schools of that town seemed to be of a higher standard than those of Salonika, although, like all Turkish schools, they left much to be desired in good principles, refinement, and general enlightenment, to all of which a marked disregard is universally displayed. The comparative progress made in the above-mentioned subjects should not, however, be considered a criterion of the cultivation of art and science in general. In spite of the simplicity with which these various branches of science and of art may now be taught, they are not likely to make much advancement among the Mohammedans. These people display an astonishing apathy and a total absence of the spirit of inquiry and research with regard to everything. They confide the secrets of nature, to the supreme care of Allah, and deem it superfluous to trouble themselves with such subjects beyond the extent required for their common wants. All mental effort is in direct opposition to the listless habits of the Turk, and, since he is not the man to run against the will of Providence, who fashioned his disposition, is therefore seldom attempted. Professional men are rare among them, and such as there are can only be ranged in the class of imitative mediocrities, who have not the genius to improve or develop any useful branch of science.
The Dulmé girls’ school of Salonika was held in a house containing a number of small rooms, in which the pupils were huddled together. One of these rooms was fitted up with desks and benches that might have accommodated about thirty children; when I entered all the pupils were doing needlework; Shemshi Effendi, the director, a young man of some enterprise and capacity and a good deal of intelligence, led the way and ordered all to stand up and salaam; a lesson I hope they will condescendingly bear in mind and practise later on in life in their intercourse with Christians. They were learning plain sewing, crochet, tapestry, and other ornamental work, taught by a neat-looking Greek schoolmistress. A good many of the pupils were grown-up girls, who sat with veils on. The master pointed them out to me, saying that most of those young ladies were engaged to be married; “I have not, therefore, attempted to teach them reading or writing, as they are too old to learn, and their time here is very short, but with the little ones I hope in time to do more.†Some of the latter were examined before me in reading, writing, and arithmetic, in which they seemed to have got on very fairly considering the short time they had attended the school and the utter want of order and system prevailing in it.
The general appearance of the girls was that of negligent untidiness; their hair was uncombed, and most of them were seated on the ground working, with a total absence of that good breeding which was to be expected in a well-regulated school for girls of their age and condition.
Defective as this establishment is, it is deserving of praise and encouragement as a first attempt which may lead to a higher standard of education among Turkish women. Perhaps some of the institutions at Stamboul, though now greatly improved, had no higher origin. Conversing lately about these with an intelligent Turk, I was assured that some of the young Turkish girls had so much profited by the education afforded in them as to have made great progress in composition and even novel-writing, an unprecedented event in the lives of the ladies of this nation! Some have devoted themselves to the study of French, and have translated one or two little French works into Turkish. One of these institutions has now become a training college for teachers, who are sent as mistresses into other schools.
The Turkish girls’ school of Salonika is attended by forty-eight pupils, superintended by one master, and a Greek schoolmistress for needlework. It is hardly necessary to say that the instruction afforded is very defective, and can be of little practical use to young girls who often, after a few years of childhood, leave when they attain the age of ten or eleven, just when their young minds are beginning to take in what is taught them. However, a little is always better than nothing, and it is to be hoped that the Salonika girls’ schools will pave the way to more effective means of teaching.
Excepting one or two schools founded by Midhat Pasha, in the vilayet of the Danube, no other Moslem girls’ schools but these at Stamboul and Salonika exist in Turkey. It must be the vegetating existence of these few establishments that has caused the flowing pen of one writer on Bulgaria to scatter girls’ schools profusely all over the country, placing one even in the remotest village of the Balkans; in all these schools, according to him, girls are everywhere taught to read and write! The statement is, unfortunately, only another proof of the accuracy of the saying, that a thing may be too good to be true.
The foundation of theLyceumat Constantinople, decided upon in 1868, was due to Ali and Fouad Pashas. The object of this institute was to spread knowledge and education throughout the country, irrespective of creed and nationality, and thus to attempt to break through the mischievous routine of separate education, and to bring together all the youth of Turkey with the view to establishing better relations between the different races, creeds, and parties. The task was not an easy one. The history of the opposition encountered by the director and professors at the opening of the college will give a slight idea of the difficulties and obstacles the Government itself meets with in the management of its subjects.
One hundred and fifty purses were voted for the Lyceum, to be expended for the benefit of all Ottoman subjects, whether Moslems, Catholic or Gregorian Armenians, Roman Catholics, Greeks, Bulgarians, or Jews. Foreign subjects were only admitted on the payment of fees.
It was intended to establish branches of the Lyceum in the principal towns, but this project was soon given up. The administration, as well as the direction of the greater part of the studies, was confided to French functionaries, chosen by the Minister of Public Instruction in France, subject to the approval of the Turkish Minister of the same department. The lessons were to be given in French, and comprised literature, history, geography, elementary mathematics, and physical science. The Arabic, Persian, and Turkish languages were to be taught by Turkish professors. Greek and Latin were to be taught, partly to facilitate the acquisition of a knowledge of scientific terms, andpartly because Greek was of daily utility to the greater part of the students.
The Mohammedan religious instruction was confided to anImam, but the spirit of tolerance had gained sufficient ground in the customs of the establishment to allow its members to practise their different creeds at will amidst their comrades, and it is said to have been a most interesting sight to witness their devotions.
In spite of (or rather on account of) the liberality and tolerance of the original bases of this institute, and the constant endeavor of the directors to accommodate these bases as much as possible to the habits and ideas of the members of the different races there represented, none seemed to feel the satisfaction and content that was expected. The Mohammedans naturally demanded that the Koran laws and its exhortations regarding prayer, ablutions, the fasting of Ramazan by day and the feasting by night, should be respected. The Jews, rigid observers of their traditions, rebelled against the idea of their children being placed in an institute directed by Christians, and of their partaking in common of food that was Tourfa, or unlawful. The Greeks followed, complaining that their language was not sufficiently admitted into the course of studies; and the well-to-do members of that community abstained from sending their children there. The Roman Catholics had religious scruples caused by a special prohibition of the Pope, and were under pain of deprivation of the sacraments if they placed their children in an infidel institution. Armenian pretension required that special attention should be paid to the children belonging to that community, and the Bulgarians demanded that a strict line should be drawn between their children and those of the Greeks.
Next to this came the difficulty about the Day of Rest: the Turks claiming Friday, the Jews Saturday, and the Christians Sunday; allied to this point of dispute was that of the observance of the religious and national festivals, all falling on different days. Even the masters themselves, Turks, Armenians, English and French men, Greeks and Italians, by the variety of nationalities they represented, still further complicated the matter.
On the other hand, in a country where education is so expensive and so difficult to obtain as it is in Turkey, there were not wanting liberal-minded people who were willing to pass over these niceties for the sake or the counterbalancing advantages; and at the opening of the Lyceum, 147 Mohammedan, 48 Gregorian Armenian, 86 Greek, 34 Jew, 34 Bulgarian, 23 Roman Catholic, and 19 Armenian Catholic students applied for admission, forming a total of 341.
At the end of two years their numbers were almost doubled, for as long as Ali and Fouad Pashas had the direction the institution continued to prosper and to give satisfaction to those who had placed their children in it; but after the death of these true benefactors of Turkey everything changed for the worse.
The French director, disgusted with the intrigues that surrounded him and the interference he then met with in the performance of his functions, sent in his resignation and returned to Villa Franca; and within a month 109 pupils were withdrawn.
The post of director was successively filled by men whose mismanagement provoked so much discontent as to cause the still greater reduction in the number of students from 640 to 382.
The following extract from an article by M. de Salve in theRevue des Deux Mondes, 15th Oct., 1874, contains a pretty correct estimate of the talent, capacity, and general good conduct of the pupils that attended the Lyceum:
“After three years in the month of June, 1871, eight pupils of the Lyceum received the French decree ofBachelier des Sciencesbefore a French Commission, and in the following years similar results were obtained.
“When the starting-point is considered and the progress made reflected upon, it will be admitted that it was impossible to foresee, or hardly to hope, for success. The degree that was attained bears testimony to the value and devotion of the masters as much as to the persevering industry and good-will of the pupils. In general, the progress made in the various branches of study, and particularly in that of the French language, and in the imitative art, has surpassed all our hopes, and in this struggle of emulation between pupils of such varied extractions, the most laudable results have been accomplished.
“We should then be wrong in looking upon the Eastern races as having become incapable of receiving a serious intellectual culture, and condemning them to final and fatal inaction. It may be interesting to know which nationalities have produced the most intelligent and best-conducted pupils. In these respects the Bulgarians have always held the first rank, and after them the Armenians, then the Turks and Jews, and lastly, I regret to say, the Roman Catholics. The Greeks, in addition to some good characters, presented a great many bad ones.â€
The supremacy of the Bulgarians is a fine augury for the coming state of things; and that the Greeks and Roman Catholics should not have greatly distinguished themselves need not surprise us; for all the children of the better classes of these communities are educated in schools kept by professors of their own persuasion. One of the reasons why the Lyceum has been abandoned by the majority of the Christian pupils is its removal to Stamboul, which made it very difficult for their children to attend, together with the radical changes which have taken place in its administration and in the tone, which has now become quite Turkish.
In describing the improvements effected by Ali and Fouad Pashas upon the old Moslem Mekteb, we have been led away from the other primeval Moslem institution, theMedressé, or Mosque College. These Medressés, supported by the funds of the mosques to which they are attached, are the universities where the Softas and Ulema, and lower down the Imams and Kyatibs, study, and, so to speak, graduate. The subjects taught are much the same as in the Medressés of other Mohammedan countries. Language and theology are the main things in the eye of the Ulema (or Dons) of a Medressé. Language means grammar, rhetoric, poetry, calligraphy, and what not, in Arabic, and (though less essentially) in Persian and Turkish. Theology includes the interpretation of the Koran and traditions; and when we have said that we have said enough for one lifetime, as every one knows who knows anything of Arab commentators and traditionists and recommentators and traditionists commentated. Theology, it should however be added, of course includes Moslem law, since both are bound together in the Koran and the traditions of Mohammed. It may easily be conceived that the instruction in these Medressés was and is always of a stiff conservative sort, not likely to advance in any great degree the cause of general enlightenment in Turkey. Still, since all the scholars and statesmen of the country were, until quite lately, invariably educated at the Medressés, it cannot be denied that they have done service in their time. Whatever historians, poets, or literary men Turkey can boast of more than a generation back, to the Medressés be the credit! In the case of statesmen the result of this training has not always been very happy. It is not satisfactory to know that in quite recent times a Minister of Public Instruction (of the old school), sitting upon a commission for looking into the state of the schools of Turkey, on being shown some maps and some mathematical problems executed by the pupils, appeared entirely ignorant of their meaning, and exclaimed, “Life of me! Mathematics, geography, this, that, and the other, what use is such rubbish to us?â€
Now, however, the highest classes send their sons to Paris and elsewhere to be educated. The effect of this training upon La Jeune Turquie I have already noticed. In some cases it must, nevertheless, be admitted that the Turk educated in Europe has really made good use of his time, and has raised himself, as near as his nature permits, to the level of the more civilized nations he has associated with.
Such is the general state of education in Turkey. Brought up, first by an ignorant mother, then by the little less ignorant Hodja of the Mekteb, or, in rarer cases, by the well-meaning but still incompetent masters of the Government schools, it is not surprising that the ordinary Turk is crafty, ignorant, and correspondingly fanatical. Yet dark as the present position is, it is better than it was a few years ago. The efforts of Ali and Fouad Pashas have certainly given education a forward impulse. The advance has been slow, but it has been forward, not backward. In this advance the Turks have shared far less than the subject races. Were things as they were two years ago, this could hardly be taken as a hopeful sign; but, looking at it from the opposite point of view, that the Bulgarians and Greeks have advanced more than the Turks, it must be admitted, in the new arrangement of the provinces now negotiating, that the fact carries a bright ray of hope.