1

A ROAD IN REBELLION, A HISTORY ON THE MOVE:
THE SOCIAL HISTORY OF THE TRABZON-BAYEZID ROAD AND
THE FORMATION OF THE MODERN STATE
IN THE LATE OTTOMAN WORLD


TABLE OF CONTENTS
LIST OF FIGURES……………………………………………………………………..xiv
INTRODUCTION
Introduction……………………………………………………………………………….1
Trabzon-Bayezid Road in History..………………………………………………….........8
Ottoman Roads in History…………….………………...…..…………………………...16
Ottoman Roads in Historiography and the Critique of Modernization………………….26
Summary of Chapters……………………………………………………………………51
Sources…………………………………………………………………………………...55
CHAPTER I – LABORING THE ROAD: FORCED LABOR AND THE LOCALISM
OF THE MODERN STATE
Introduction.…………………………………………………..........................................57
Labor Shortage, Health and Happiness of Workers, and Migrant Labor...……………...68
Organization of Labor during the Construction.………………………………………...80
Forced Labor System and the Local Origins of the Modern State.……………………...98
Rethinking Modernization in the Nineteenth-Century Ottoman Empire………………104
Conclusion………………………………………………………………….…………..110
CHAPTER II – FINANCING THE ROAD: TAXATION, CONTRACTORS, AND
COMPANIES
Introduction…………………………………………………………………………….114
From State Sponsorship to the Establishment of Companies.………………………….115
Abuse and Manipulation of the Road Tax System.…………………………………….141
Contractors and Privatization.………………………………………………………….153
Coach Companies............................................................................................................164
Conclusion……………………………………………………………………...............173
CHAPTER III – ENGINEERING THE ROAD: ENVIRONMENT, TECHNOLOGY,
AND LAND
Introduction…………………………………………………………………………….178
Engineers’ Inexperience………………………………………………………………..180
Climate and Geography………………………………………………………………...191
Changes in Route……………………………………………………………………….217
Land and Contestation………………………………………………………………….224
Conclusion……………………………………………………………………...............230
CHAPTER IV – REGIONAL SIGNIFICANCE OF THE ROAD: FRAGMENTATION
IN PROVINCIAL POLITICS AND TRANSNATIONALISM
xiii
Introduction…………………………………………………………………………….232
Regional Economy……………………………………………………………………..235
Provincial Governments in Disagreement: Clashes within the State Structure.………..241
Ohannes’ Ottoman Company: Economic Benefits vs. Military Hazards………………244
Localism within Localism: The Peculiar Case of Rize…………………………………252
Alternative Routes……………………………………………………………………...255
Trabzon-Bayezid Road in Transnational Context………………………………………271
Conclusion……………………………………………………………………...............294
CHAPTER V – POITICAL ECONOMY OF THE ROAD: MARKET, FAMINE, AND
MIGRATION
Introduction: Are Roads the Solution for or the Cause of Famine?.…………………...296
Famine of 1874………………………………………………………............................301
Famine of 1892-1894…………………………………………………...........................304
A Social Response to Famine: Migration.……………………………………………...322
Migration of 1892-1894……………………………………...........................................328
Migration of 1908-1909…………………………………………….…………………..336
Conclusion…………………………………………………………………...................340
CHAPTER VI – SECURITY ON THE ROAD: HIGHWAY ROBBERY (1850s-1870s)
Introduction………………………………………………………………….................343
From Ex Post Facto Financial Concerns to Preventive Military Measures ……………349
Regional Alliances between Highway Robbers and Local Power Holders…….............361
Mobility and Local Support: Is It Possible to Speak of Social Bandits?..……………...365
Conclusion……………………………………………………………...........................390
CHAPTER VII – SECURITY ON THE ROAD: HIGHWAY ROBBERY – NON-STOP
VIOLENCE (1890s-1910s)
Escalation of Violence………………………………………………………………….396
Scapegoats: Caravan Operators…………………………………………………..…….413
Corruption of the Gendarme……………………………………………………………416
Legal Scandals…………….……………………………………………….…...............421
Tobacco Smuggling…………...…………………………………………...…...............430
Fugitive Soldiers………………………………………………………………………..441
Conclusion……………………………………………………...………........................443
EPILOGUE – ROAD POLITICS AND THE MODERN STATE: RIGHTS OR
RESISTANCE?...............................................................................................................448
CONCLUSION………………………………………………………………………...456
BIBLIOGRAHY………………………………………………………………………..465
xiv
LIST OF FIGURES
Figure I: Map of the Trabzon-Erzurum Road………………………………………..82-84
Figure II: Kuru Çay Bridge on the road between Erzurum and Hasankale…………….160
Figure III: Nebi Çay Bridge on the road between Erzurum and Hasankale……………161
Figure IV: A bridge on the road between Erzurum and Hasankale…………………….162
Figure V: Pırnakapan Bridge on the road between Erzurum and Bayburt……………..163
Figure VI: Fourth Engineer Corps (Dördüncü Istihkam Taburu)
constructing a bridge in Erzurum………………………………………………164
Figure VII: Map of the Main Road & Mule Tracks from Trabzon to Bayburt………...193
Figure VIII: Map of the Trabzon-Erzurum Road at Deveboynu Mountain……………194
Figure IX: Map of the Trabzon-Erzurum Road between Cevizlik and Bayburt………..195
Figure X: Map of the Erzurum-Bayburt Road………………………………………….208
Figure XI: Map of the Erzurum-Bayezid Road……………………………………209-210
Figure XII: Map of the Trabzon-Tabriz Road………………………………………….210
Figure XIII: Map of the Bayburt-Bayezid Road………………………………………..211
Figure XIV: A Chasing Squad (Takib Müfrezesi) from the Second Battalion
(Ikinci Tabur) of the Twenty-Sixth Infantry Regiment
(Yirmi Altıncı Piyade Alayı) in Erzurum………………………………………..435
1
INTRODUCTION
You gentlemen perhaps think I am mad? Allow me to
defend myself. I agree that man is preeminently a
creative animal, predestined to consciously strive
toward a goal, and to engage in engineering, that is,
eternally and incessantly, to build new roads, wherever
they may lead. . . . Man loves to create roads, that is
beyond dispute. But . . . may it not be . . . that he is
instinctively afraid of attaining his goal and
completing the edifice he is constructing? How do you
know, perhaps he only likes that edifice from a
distance and not at all at a close range, perhaps he only
likes to build it, and does not want to live in it.
Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground1
Introduction:
In his masterpiece All That Is Solid Melts into Air, Marshall Berman quotes these
lines from Dostoevsky’s Underground Man in order to stress the “indefiniteness” of
modernity which is generated by its constantly changing and contradictory nature. “Our
most creative constructions and achievements,” writes Berman, “are bound to turn into
prisons and whited sepulchers that we, or our children, will have to escape or transform if
life is to go on.”2 This also summarizes the way this dissertation approaches its topic, the
1 Quoted in Marshall Berman, All That Is Solid Melts into Air: The Experience of Modernity (New York:
Penguin Books, 1988), 6.
2 Ibid.
2
history of the Trabzon-Bayezid road and its construction process during the second half
of the nineteenth century.
As part of its modernization policies, the Ottoman state started renovating the
Trabzon-Bayezid road in 1857. Only the section between Trabzon and Erzurum was
completed in fourteen years. Therefore when construction was over in 1871, parts of this
section had already deteriorated and needed repair because the renovation took a very
long time.3 The other half of the road, which was between Bayezid and Erzurum, was
never completely renovated during the reign of the Ottoman Empire. Last but not least,
the section between Trabzon and Erzurum needed frequent repairs also after 1871 when
the construction was officially over.
The construction and repair processes took such a long time because of several
difficulties authorities faced, ranging from financial constraints to technical problems as
will be discussed in detail throughout this dissertation. Due to these difficulties, the
construction was an unending process defined by many conflicts, contradictions, and
inconsistencies. In the “end”, a “simple” engineering project turned into a long term
project, which continued from the late 1840s when initial plans were made into the early
1920s which marked the end of the Ottoman Empire. Since the road was never
completed, people faced many dangers as they travelled. Hence, the Trabzon-Bayezid
road was both a dream and a nightmare for many, including Ottoman subjects as well as
3 This was not something unique to the construction of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. A similar situation
prevailed in the reconstruction of the Mahmudiyya Canal in Egypt during the early nineteenth century. In
1820, only a year after the project was finished in 1819, the canal was already in need of further repairs.
Alan Mikhail, Nature and Empire in Ottoman Egypt: An Environmental History (New York: Cambridge
University Press, 2011), 284.
3
subjects of other empires. Travelers needed the road, but at the same time wanted to keep
away from it because of its many flaws.
The construction of the Trabzon-Bayezid road was part of a broad-scale road
reform project that started in the nineteenth century when Ottoman authorities
constructed new roads and repaired already existing ones. Roads were renovated using
modern techniques, such as building wider roads, stone bridges, milestones, and ditches
along the road in order to prevent the accumulation of water on the road’s surface.4 The
main objective was to make provinces accessible to the imperial center, thereby creating
a unified imperial market and geography.
In this framework, road-building projects of the nineteenth century were a crucial
step in the modernization of the empire. For example, Mustafa Resit Pasha, the founding
father of the Tanzimat,5 believed that the construction of new roads during Sultan
4 Nesim Yazıcı, "Tanzimatta Haberlesme ve Kara Tasımacılıgı," Ankara Üniversitesi Osmanlı Tarihi
Arastırma ve Uygulama Merkezi Dergisi (OTAM), no. 3 (1992): 359.
5 Tanzimat, which literally means “order”, stands for the Ottoman reform era between 1839 and 1876. 1839
marks the promulgation of the Tanzimat Decree and 1876 is the year when Abdülhamit II became the
sultan. These dates which are based on political transformations can be shifted a few years back and forth.
Quataert, for example, relates the promises of equality made by the Tanzimat Decree in 1839 to the
abolishment of sumptuary clothing laws in 1829. Donald Quataert, "Clothing Laws, State, and Society in
the Ottoman Empire, 1720-1829," International Journal of Middle East Studies 29 (1997). Similarly, a
recent trend rejects to end the Tanzimat era with the enthronement of Abdülhamid II since these historians
see this sultan’s policies as a continuation of, rather than a break from, the previous era. Deringil, for
example, criticizes those who depict Abdülhamit as a restorationist or reactionary sultan because the
content of the curriculum after his educational reforms were more Islamic compared to the previous period.
Deringil interprets this change not as a step backwards, but as an inherent part of the modern-state
formation. He argues that since the modern state infused itself into the every-day life of the Ottoman
subjects in various ways, the state officials needed to create new means of relating their policies to the
general society. Hence, Deringil sees the Islamization of the textbooks’ content in Abdülhamid’s era as an
“invention of tradition” to legitimize policies. In other words, the Islamic content of the textbooks was a
concession, a means to justify other means. Selim Deringil, The Well-Protected Domains, Ideology, and the
Legitimation of Power in the Ottoman Empire, 1876-1909 (London & New York: I.B. Tauris, 1998). In a
similar fashion, Karpat situates the emergence of political Islam during the Abdülhamit era into the context
of modern-state formation. Karpat argues that the traditional Ottoman view to see the state structure and the
religious realm as two separate entities could not be retained under the process of modern state formation
because now the religious realm was also seen as an arena on which the state would impose its own
4
Mahmud II’s reign was “rooted in civilization” (sivilizasyon usulünün
müteferriasından).6 In 1875, another Ottoman bureaucrat argued that the circulation of
goods and ideas within the territories of a state constituted the basics of civilization and
contributed to the accumulation of wealth (medeniyet ve servetin esası olan mübadele-i
efkâr ve emval maddeleri).7
In 1912, the governor of Erzurum Mehmet Emin replicated the ideas of these
former Ottoman statesmen in a long report which he wrote to complain about the absence
of roads (yolsuzluk) in his province. The report dramatically described how slowly the
public works progressed in Erzurum. Socio-economic conditions were especially bad in
Erzurum, which ranked lower in the eyes of the central authorities when compared to the
other provinces that already benefitted from railroad connections and electrification.
Consequently, the residents of the province lived in poverty. With its “windowless huts”
(penceresiz kulübeler), Erzurum was a place where many people ate grass because they
were so poor that they could not afford any other food supplies (ot yedirten yoksulluk
iniltileri). In this context, Mehmet Emin resembled the residents of the province to the
miserable slaves of ancient Egypt (Mısır firavunları tarafından ehramlara tas nakil
policies. Of course, one may question Karpat’s tendency to take the administrative and religious spheres as
two distinct units in the pre-nineteenth century period. Nevertheless, one cannot easily dismiss his
contribution to the scholarship on Abdülhamid II’s reign. Very similar to Deringil, his work clearly points
out the fallacies in depicting this sultan as anti-reformist only because he started to use the caliphate in
particular and an Islamic discourse in general as effective tools of legitimate politics. Kemal Karpat, The
Politicization of Islam: Reconstructing Identity, Faith, and Community in the Late Ottoman State (New
York: Oxford University Press, 2001).
6 Tuncer Baykara, Osmanlılarda Medeniyet Kavramı ve Ondokuzuncu Yüzyıla Dair Arastırmalar (Lzmir:
Akademi Kitabevi, 1992), 13.
7 Prime Ministry Ottoman Archives (hereafter, PMOA), A.MKT.MHM 478/69, 4 Recep 1292 (6 August
1875)
5
ettirilen, agır humullerinin bar-ı mesakı altında inlettirilen dertli esirler). Therefore, the
Ottoman Empire urgently needed to follow the path of “advanced” nations (nesl-i
mütemeddin-i beser), which required first and foremost a full scale road reform.8
The governor argued that a country should have a good road network to benefit
from its natural resources according to the basic principles of economics.9 Thanks to
improved transportation facilities, European powers were able to impose their power over
other nations which had failed to develop their public works. Ottomans were one of those
nations which insisted on ignoring “progressive” thoughts (terakkiyat-ı asriyenin
medeniyet-i ziyaları) such as the road reform. The result was unfair economic treaties and
many lost wars. Remembering the recent Italian attack on Tripoli, the governor saw roads
as a significant means of defending the empire against its enemies. As a matter of fact,
the political and military significance of roads were closely related as no nation could
stay politically independent unless it was economically independent as well. In this
context, the roads in Erzurum would play a very crucial role in protecting Ottomans from
imperial Russia.10 The governor concluded his report by saying:
8 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
9 “Bilhassa sizin necat ve saadet-i vatan için mücahedeyi kendisine meslek ittihaz eden gençlige saçmıs
oldugunuz iktisat prensiplerindendir ki bir memlekette tesebbüsat-ı istihsaliye için sabit ve mütedavil
sermayeleri meydan-ı intifa dökerek isletebilmek, say ve ameli kuyud-u esaret ve cehaletten kurtararak bir
serbesti ve faaliyete müzehher eyletebilmek, mahsulât-ı arziye ve sanaiyeye bir saha-i mübadele ve müsterii
müstehlik bularak cihaz-i istihsale hayat ve kuvvet verebilmek ve talep ve arz mekanizmasıyla kıymet
kanununa bir hareket ve cevelan getirebilmek her halde turuk ve maabirin insasına mütevakkıftır. ve bu
kuva-i istihsaliyeden mahrum ülkelerde genis ovalar altın hasatlarla dalgalansa, yüce daglar kıymetli
cevherlerle dolu olsa, polat kollara aslanların kuvvetlerini verse ve dimaglar büyük nasiyelerde dâhilerin
zekâlarını parlatsa bu bedbaht topraklar birer kül yıgınından baska birer mevcudiyet göstermeyecekleri
gibi bunların sefil evlatlarının dahi hassa-ı mukderatı sefalet ve ıstırap olacaktır.” Ibid.
10 Ibid.
6
Our borders should be protected not only by fortifications but also by
railroads and roads and our people living close to the borders should be
armed not only with bayonets but also with hammers and sickles. This
depends on the number of the pickaxes that you are going to hand in to us
so that we can build roads and railroads and therefore, [the destiny of the
nation is written on the door of the Ministry of Public Works.]11
Similarly, the Trabzon provincial yearbook also stressed the idea that roads had
both military and economic functions (yollar . . . hal-i iktisadiyeyi ve . . . inzibat ve sükun
ve asayisi teshil ve temin ettiginden).12 In this context, the “military” function of roads was
related not only to the defense of the empire against foreign enemies but also to protection
from its own subjects as terms like orderly conduct (inzibat), tranquility (sükun), and
public security (asayis) suggest. Hence, roads also served to prevent vagabondage and
theft which were the outcome of unemployment and destitution (issizlik ve zaruret neticesi
bulunan serserilige ve hırsızlıga sed çeken).13
In short, the Ottoman statesmen were aware that they needed to reform their road
network in order to “save” the empire. For this purpose, the road reform constituted a
significant part of Ottoman modernization in the nineteenth-century. Taking the
considerations of the Ottoman elites for granted, the existing scholarly literature on this
topic identifies the study of roads with the modernization paradigm which has informed
scholars’ approach on this topic so far. This dissertation will reverse this relationship
between modernization and road reform, and question to what extent the analysis of roads
11 “serhadımız istihkâmlarıyla oldugu gibi simendiferleriyle de, yollarıyla da tahkim edilsin ve serhadımızın
evlatları süngülerle oldugu kadar bu yollar ve simendiferler sayesinde orak ve çekiçlerle de müsellah vuku
olsunlar. Bunlar sizin bizim elimize verecekleri kazmaların adedine baglıdır ve [milletin mukadderatı nafıa
nezaretinin kapısı üzerinde yazılıdır.]” Ibid.
12 “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1320 (1902-1903), 107; “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1321
(1903-1904), 202-203
13 “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1319 (1901-1902), 196
7
can help us develop a more nuanced understanding of Ottoman modernization in the
nineteenth century. For this purpose, this dissertation will shift the focus from the laws and
regulations passed by the Ottoman state about road policies during the nineteenth century
to the social history of a specific road. Thus, by localizing the history of the Ottoman road
reform, this dissertation will try to “decentralize” the modernization process of the
Ottoman Empire.
Before delving any further into the history of this road, I should, perhaps, make an
honest confession about how my adventurous journey on this topic advanced through the
years. When I first started thinking about roads as a possible subject to study for my
doctoral degree, I was more interested in finding out how Ottoman subjects resisted
against the road-building projects of the state. In other words, initially, I was planning to
explore the Trabzon-Bayezid road from a “history from below” perspective. As the readers
of this dissertation will soon figure out however, my dissertation ended up as a story of
modern state formation rather than a local or regional history of resistance. There are
several reasons for this intellectual evolution. First, my reliance on state archives
predominantly shaped the way I narrated the history of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. Second,
throughout the years, I developed a more nuanced understanding of state-society relations,
as a result of which I am now more interested in exploring the dialectical relationship
between the two rather than approaching them as dichotomous entities. Thus, the goal of
this dissertation is to show how the Ottoman state functioned in a social context rather
than reinforcing the idea that the modern state in the late Ottoman world was an
imposition on society from outside, against which the subjects of the empire in response
8
resisted. Only the readers of this dissertation can judge to what extent I “succeed” or “fail”
in these respects.
This introductory chapter will first provide basic information on the Trabzon-
Bayezid road while situating the history of this road in a comparative framework. Then,
the chapter will shift its focus to a more historiographical discussion by analyzing the
history of Ottoman roads in order to understand the specificity of the nineteenth-century
road reform, and engage in a critical examination of the literature which is dominated by
the modernization paradigm.
Trabzon-Bayezid Road in History:
Trabzon-Bayezid road was not only significant for the Ottoman Empire. The road
existed throughout centuries and served many principalities and empires. It was first
constructed using contemporary techniques by the Romans in the 1st century AD; however
even before this date, the road existed as a natural path which followed streams and rivers,
and passed through valleys located between mountain ranges. It was also the main route
which connected the historic Silk Road to the eastern Black Sea coast. When Sultan
Mehmet II conquered Trabzon in 1461, chroniclers reported the road to be in bad
condition. Later in the Ottoman period, the road retained its military significance because
of the recurrent Ottoman-Iranian and Ottoman-Russian wars in the Eastern frontier.14 Not
only weaponry and other military goods, but also grain for the provisioning of the troops
was sent via sea transportation from the Balkans to Trabzon from where it was transferred
14 Necmettin Aygün, Onsekizinci Yüzyılda Trabzon'da Ticaret (Istanbul: Serander, 2005), 116-21.
9
to Erzurum on this road.15
Aygün observes that only military officials had voiced complaints about the bad
condition of the Trabzon-Erzurum road before the nineteenth century. The complaints by
officers coincided with the wars that the Ottoman Empire forged against Iran. In contrast,
merchants were not interested in improving the condition of the road in the eighteenth
century. At the same time however, they continued to frequently use the road to transport
their merchandise from interior regions to Trabzon. Therefore, Aygün concludes that the
poor transportation conditions on the road did not risk the productive capacity of the
region prior to the nineteenth century.16 In other words, the bad condition of the road did
not prevent local farmers from increasing agricultural production.
The destiny of the road abruptly changed in the nineteenth century as it gained an
economically significant role for the international trade, in addition to continuing its
function as a major military route. First, the British became interested in the road as they
were looking for cheaper ways of doing commerce with northern Iran and India. It is in
such a context that Sir Gore Ouseley, a British diplomat, prepared a report in 1812 and
advocated that the Trabzon-Bayezid road was the shortest and cheapest way of doing trade
with Iran and India. Following the Russo-Ottoman War of 1828-1829, the Treaty of
Adrianople opened the Black Sea to foreign trade, thus putting an end to Ottomans’
15 Mehmet Yasar Ertas, "Savaslarla Sekillenen Yollar: Osmanlı Devleti'nde Yol Sistemi," in Ciepo
Uluslararası Osmanlı Öncesi ve Osmanlı Tarihi Arastırmaları 6. Ara Dönem Sempozyum Bildirileri, ed.
Adnan Sisman, Tuncer Baykara, and Mehmet Karayaman (Usak: Usak Lli Kalkınma Vakfı, 2011), 636.
16 Aygün, 124. Ertas reaches a similar conclusion when he claims that the transportation of agricultural
goods did not necessarily lead to an effort on the part of either the merchants or the statesmen to maintain
roads in good condition. Instead of their economic functions, roads were repaired because of their military
importance. Ertas, 630.
10
navigation monopoly in these waters.17 Meanwhile, the British opened their first consulate
in Trabzon in 1830.18 Following the introduction of steam navigation between Istanbul and
Trabzon in 1836, the road gained even more traffic and maintained its significance until
the 1860s. During the 1860s, 48,000 camels passed annually on this road and carried
12,000 tons of goods, most of which was silk.19 Contrary to the existing literature which
suggests that the road lost its importance after the 1860s20 because of the competition
caused by new Russian roads in Caucasia, this dissertation will argue that the Trabzon-
Bayezid road continued to be a significant route for various local, regional, and imperial
actors even after this decade when the Iranian transit trade with Europe started to gradually
decline.
Notwithstanding its significance, the road was mostly in bad condition throughout
the nineteenth century. For example, James Baillie Fraser, who was sent by the British
government to Persia on a diplomatic mission in 1833, followed the Erzurum road on his
way to Tehran. His adventurous journey took place during the winter and Fraser’s travel
was delayed on many occasions because the road was covered with snow, hence invisible
17 Cumhur Odabasıoglu, "Trabzon-Iran Transit Nakliyesi," in Çagını Yakalayan Osmanlı! Osmanlı
Devleti'nde Modern Haberlesme ve Ulastırma Teknikleri, ed. Ekmeleddin Lhsanoglu and Mustafa Kaçar
(Istanbul: Islam Tarih, Sanat ve Kültür Arastırma Merkezi (IRCICA), 1995), 463; Üner A. Turgay,
"Trabzon," in Dogu Akdeniz'de Liman Kentleri 1800-1914, ed. Çaglar Keyder, Donald Quataert, and Eyüp
Y. Özveren (Istanbul: Tarih Vakfı Yurt Yayınları, 1994), 50-51.
18 Selahattin Tozlu, "Trabzon-Erzurum-Tebriz Yolu (XIX. Yüzyılda Sosyal ve Ekonomik Bakımdan Bir
Lnceleme)," in Türkler, ed. Hasan Celal, Kemal Çiçek, and Salim Koca (Ankara: Yeni Türkiye Yayınları,
2002), 482; ———, "19. Yüzyılda Sosyo-Ekonomik Bakımından Trabzon Limanı," in Trabzon ve Çevresi:
Uluslararası Tarih-Dil-Edebiyat Sempozyumu, 3-5 Mayıs 2001, ed. Mithat Kerim Arslan and Hikmet
Öksüz (Trabzon: Türkiye Cumhuriyeti Trabzon Valiligi Ll Kültür Müdürlügü Yayınları, 2002), 383.
19 Peter Mentzel, Transportation Technology and Imperialism in the Ottoman Empire, 1800-1923
(Washington, D. C.: American Historical Association, 2006), 18.
20 See Charles Issawi, "The Tabriz-Trabzon Trade, 1830-1900: Rise and Decline of a Route," International
Journal of Middle East Studies 1, no. 1 (1970).
11
during and after heavy snowstorms.21 Similarly, William John Hamilton, an English
geologist and the secretary of the Geological Society of London, travelled in Anatolia in
1835 and described the condition of the road as follows:
The traffic on this line, which is the caravan road from Trebizond to
Erzeroum, is always considerable; but, owing to the nature of the soil, and
the heavy rains which fall all the year round near the sea, it is so cut up and
poached by long trains of beasts of burden, as to be often impassable. To
obviate this evil in part, a narrow paved causeway has been laid down in
many places, where the nature of the ground required it the most, but the
lapse of years has reduced it to a most wretched state; and what between
floundering in the mud on one side or the other, slipping about on the
broken uneven payment, the baggage horses had great difficulty in getting
along.22
Robert Curzon, the British representative of the Ottoman-Persian Boundary
Commission, travelled on the road in 1843-1844 and faced many difficulties on the way
between Trabzon and Erzurum. When Curzon left Trabzon, he realized that the road
lasted only for a mile after which there was only a narrow track all the way until Tabriz.
Even this tiny bit of road, which cost £19,000 to build, was very steep and the track
following it was wide enough only for one horse to pass. Luckily, even though the track
was full of many obstacles like streams, mud, rocks, and mountains, the pack animals
were used to walking and climbing on this terrain. To have his readers empathize with
him, Curzon invited them to imagine travelling in the Alps before Europeans built roads
there. At Zigana Mountain, Curzon encountered a caravan from Mus, which was trapped
under an avalanche. On his way back from Erzurum, the road was covered by snow
21 See pages 253-303 in James Baillie Fraser, A Winter's Journey (Tatar,) from Constantinople to Tehran,
vol. 1 (London: Richard Bentley, 1838).
22 William John Hamilton, Researches in Asia Minor, Pontus and Armenia with Some Account of Their
Antiquities and Geology, vol. 1 (London: William Clowes and Sons, 1842), 163.
12
again. Horses stepped on fissures which had been opened by caravans preceding them.
On Kösepınar Mountain, the road was as steep as forty-five degrees and as narrow as
only eighteen inches (forty-five centimeters). Curzon once again saw a caravan on its
way to Persia trapped in the snow. Finally, after spending fifteen days on the road, he was
able to arrive at Trabzon.23
Almost eighty years later, Sir Alfred Rawlinson, a British intelligence officer who
had been appointed to inspect the demobilization and disarmament of the Ottoman army
in the aftermath of World War I, travelled on the Trabzon-Erzurum road several times
between 1919 and 1922. He was one of the first people who drove an automobile on this
historic road. In 1919, Rawlinson wrote the following to describe the condition of the
road: “The snow was now getting less daily, but the roads got worse, as the country
becomes sodden at this time of year, and mud, of the depth it is found in those mountains,
is an even worse obstacle travelling on wheels than snow is, however deep the latter may
be.”24
Thus, despite Ottoman efforts to renovate and maintain the road from the late
1840s onwards, the Trabzon-Bayezid road was still in bad condition in the last days of
the empire in the early twentieth century. While we can question the validity of these
traveler accounts based on their Orientalist biases, as the following pages will clarify,
Ottoman primary sources confirm that the road was in bad condition throughout most of
the nineteenth century. What needs to be stressed at this point is the fact that the
23 Robert Curzon, Armenia: A Year in Erzeroom, and on the Frontiers of Russia, Turkey, and Persia (New
York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1854), 24-33, 165-75.
24 Alfred Rawlinson, Adventures in the near East, 1918-1922 (London & New York: Andrew Melrose,
1923), 178.
13
Ottomans were not alone in their experience of a history of roads, which was full of
dilemmas, difficulties, challenges, and disappointments rather than being a story of
imperial forces’ success in taming nature. Like the Ottoman Empire, the “great” powers
of Europe also encountered many difficulties in their efforts to maintain a well-connected
road network in the nineteenth century.
Eugene Weber notes that France started expanding its road network only in the
1860s –at around the same time with the Ottomans.25 Similarly, most of the French roadbuilding
projects remained only as projects and many planned roads were actually never
built.26 Last but not least, even though Paris was connected to its provincial centers via
roads, there was a significant lack of communication between the provinces.27 This was a
consequence of the difficulties that French authorities faced in centralizing the
construction of roads; therefore, they continued to rely on local initiative for many roadbuilding
projects.28
French imperial authorities had a hard time planning land haulage not only at
home but in their colonies as well. Freed notes that “colonial policies regarding roads in
French Central Africa were often haphazard, and technical and financial resources
devoted to them scarce.”29 Therefore, only certain parts of roads were actually built while
25 Eugen Weber, "Roads, Roads, and Still More Roads," in Peasants into Frenchmen: The Modernization
of Rural France (Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1976), 196.
26 For examples see Ibid., 203
27 Geoffrey Hindley, A History of Roads (London: Peter Davies, 1971), 70.
28 Isser Woloch, "Communications: Maintaining Local Roads," in The New Regime: Transformations of the
French Civic Order, 1789-1820s (New York & London: W. W. Norton & Company, 1994).
29 Libbie J. Freed, Conduits of Culture and Control: Roads, States, and Users in French Central Africa,
1890-1960 (Unpublished Dissertation, University of Wisconsin-Medison, 2006), 14.
14
the rest remained unpaved.30 Also, in Namibia, a German colony in the late nineteenth
century, there was no progress in the condition of roads. As Dierks observed, “the
beginning of the era of the German occupation in Namibia, in 1884, did not bring any
new technological improvements to the roads system.”31
Not far from continental Europe, the condition of roads in Britain was not very
promising either. In the early nineteenth century, “most British roads remained in their
medieval form but, as a result of increased traffic, in a far worse state. . . . Government
intervention remained either non existent or futile . . .”32 Another observer concludes that
“even at the height of the coaching age, contemporary criticism of the state of the roads
convinces us that, despite the experiments in road reform made by the more advanced
Turnpike Trusts, there was still room for much improvement.”33 As a matter of fact, “the
condition of many [British] roads deteriorated during the 1850s and 1860s” because “the
government insisted that trusts should pay of their debts in preference to spending money
on repairing the roads.”34
The condition of roads was not very different across the Atlantic, either. Travelers
who took the Federal Road –which stretched from Georgia to Alabama- between 1806
30 Ibid., 67.
31 Klaus Dierks, Namibian Roads in History from the 13th Century Till Today (Frankfurt/Main: Institutes
für Wirtschafts- und Sozialgeographie der Johann Wolfgang Goethe-Universität Frankfurt/Main, 1992), 43.
32 Christopher Taylor, Roads and Tracks of Britain (London, Toronto & Melbourne: J. M. Dent & Sons
Ltd., 1979), 161-62.
33 R. M. C. Anderson, The Roads of England: Being a Review of the Roads, of Travellers, and of Traffic in
England, from the Days of the Ancient Trackways to the Modern Motoring Era (London: Ernest Benn,
Limited, 1932), 185.
34 Brian Paul Hindle, Know the Landscape: Roads, Tracks, and Their Interpretation (London: B. T.
Batsford Ltd., 1993), 130.
15
and 1836 complained about the many flaws on the road and narrated the troubles they
had to face in order to go from one place to another.35 As indicated by these various
examples, the difficulties that Ottoman authorities and subjects faced on roads were not a
result of their “Oriental despotism” or a consequence of their cultural characteristics
which resulted in an indifference to “modern” means of transportation. On the contrary,
the nineteenth-century Ottoman experience on roads was part of a “coeval” modernity
shared with the French, the British, the Americans, and many others. Ottomans shared
with the rest of the world the same temporality defined by modernity which was home to
a variety of unequal relations at social, economic, cultural, and political levels throughout
the globe.36
The use of forced labor in road-building projects was one area in which the
unequal relations of modernity became manifest. As a matter of fact, the Ottoman Empire
resembled its contemporaries in this respect as well because Ottomans were not the only
imperial power which relied on the workforce of its local population in order to construct
roads in the modern age.37 In France, for example, Napoleon reintroduced the corvée
system which the Republican government had abolished after the 1789 Revolution as it
was “one of the most hated symbols of royal oppression in the Ancient Régime.”38 In
35 See the chapter “Passing Strangers” in Henry Deleon Southerland and Jerry Elijah Brown, The Federal
Road through Georgia, the Creek Nation, and Alabama, 1806-1836 (Tuscaloosa & London: The University
of Alabama Press, 1989).
36 For a discussion of coeval modernity see Harry Harootunian, Overcome by Modernity: History, Culture,
and Community in Interwar Japan (Princeton N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000); ———, History’s
Disquiet: Modernity, Cultural Practice and the Question of Everyday Life (New York: Columbia
University Press, 2002).
37 For the use of forced labor in the Ottoman road-building projects, see Chapter One.
38 Hindley, 77.
16
1805, also the Mississippi territorial legislature in America retained the right to ask all
free male persons and male slaves between the ages of sixteen and fifty to work in road
constructions for up to six days a year. Free men who failed to send substitutes or slave
owners who rejected to provide their slaves were asked to pay a fine which was a dollar
per day. When Alabama became a separate territory in 1817, the legislation changed
slightly, but the basic principles of forced labor remained the same.39
The commonality between the Ottomans and its contemporaries regarding the
condition and construction of roads forces us to question what the modernization of the
road network actually meant in the nineteenth-century Ottoman Empire. In order to
answer this question, this chapter will first examine the history of Ottoman roads.
Ottoman Roads in History:
Before the nineteenth century, the Ottoman state usually designed roads as
military tools. Therefore, their construction and maintenance preceded the mobilization
of the army prior to significant campaigns. Apart from this, roads’ economic function
was limited to their regional importance as the Ottoman Empire consisted of regional
units which were more or less self-sufficient in economic terms rather than one unified
market.40 This does not mean that the Ottoman peasantry was only involved in
39 Southerland and Brown, 55.
40 For a recent study which argues for the existence of a unified Ottoman market before the nineteenth
century see Baki Tezcan, The Second Ottoman Empire: Political and Social Transformation in the Early
Modern World (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). Tezcan bases his argument on the fact that
a common currency, akçe, was used throughout the vast expanding territories of the Ottoman Empire in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. While this dissertation does not argue against this claim, it suggests
that the road-building projects of the Tanzimat state contributed to this unification process which may have
started in earlier centuries.
17
subsistence agriculture and did not engage in any commercial activities before the
nineteenth century. On the contrary, Ottoman peasants participated in cash economy, but
the circulation of money was confined to certain regional markets.41
The difficulty of transporting goods on land was the major factor behind this
geographical organization of the empire. Accordingly, land transportation was five to ten
times more expensive than sea transportation.42 In Egypt, for example, roads were used
within a sixteen kilometer (ten miles) radius. For longer distances, merchants preferred
ships as the Nile “was akin to a massive highway running the entire length of Egypt that
connected top to bottom and sea to village.”43 Thus, the circulation of food supplies
within the Ottoman Empire was limited by the rule that essential foodstuffs were not
allowed to be sent away from a certain region unless its residents had enough food until
the next harvest. Accordingly, in case of crop failures, a region should be able to import
grain from another.44 Thus, regional economies were centered around districts which had
a central population of 3,000-20,000 located in a town or a city, in addition to the
41 For the argument that the Ottoman agriculture was already commodified before the nineteenth century,
that peasants were part of a credit network which brought cities and villages together, and that there was no
rural isolation in the Ottoman countryside, see Kenneth M. Cuno, The Pasha’s Peasants: Land, Society,
and Economy in Lower Egypt, 1740-1858 (Cambridge & New York: Cambridge University Press, 1992);
Beshara Doumani, Rediscovering Palestine: Merchants and Peasants in Jabal Nablus, 1700-1900
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995); Dina Rizk Khoury, State and Provincial Society in the
Ottoman Empire: Mosul, 1540-1834 (Cambridge & New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997).
42 Mehmet Genç, Osmanlı Rmparatorlugunda Devlet ve Ekonomi (Istanbul: Ötüken Nesriyat, 2000), 197.
43 Mikhail, 87, 98.
44 See Donald Quataert, "Famine in Turkey 1873-1875," Regional Studies, no. 201 (1968); Suraiya Faroqhi,
Towns and Townsmen of Ottoman Anatolia: Trade, Crafts and Food Production in an Urban Setting, 1520-
1650 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984); Lynne Marie Thornton Sasmazer, Provisioning
Istanbul: Bread Production, Power and Political Ideology in the Ottoman Empire, 1789-1807
(Unpublished Dissertation, Indiana University, 2000); Orhan Kılıç, "Osmanlı Devleti’nde Meydana Gelen
Kıtlıklar," in Türkler, ed. Hasan Celal, Kemal Çiçek, and Salim Koca (Ankara: Yeni Türkiye Yayınları,
2002).
18
population in the villages around the center.45 Before the discovery of the oceanic routes
and the shift from the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic World, Ottoman roads were
important in an international context as well. However, Faroqhi claims that historians
have been exaggerating the significance of the international transit trade which started on
the Indian subcontinent, passed through the Ottoman Empire, and reached Europe.46
Before the nineteenth century, the construction and maintenance of roads were
undertaken by the tımar (fief) system. Therefore, once the tımar system ceased
functioning properly, the maintenance of roads gradually became a burden on the
Ottoman state. It is in such a framework that Quataert explains the downfall of Ottoman
roads with the disappearance of the tımar system as tımar-holders were obliged to
maintain roads.47 Duran also connects the disappearance of an efficient Ottoman road
network with the changes in the tımar system, and concludes that roads ceased to
function as an effective means of transportation and communication, especially starting
from the eighteenth century onwards.48
Quataert’s and Duran’s approach radically differs from that of Tütengil who
rationalizes the demise of Ottoman roads with the geographical discoveries and the new
45 Genç, 46.
46 Suraiya Faroqhi, Subjects of the Sultan: Culture and Daily Life in the Ottoman Empire (London & New
York: I. B. Tauris, 2005), 50.
47 Donald Quataert, "The Age of Reforms, 1812-1914," in An Economic and Social History of the Ottoman
Empire 1600-1914, ed. Donald Quataert and Halil Lnalcık (Cambridge: Cambridge Universiry Press, 1997),
818.
48 Bünyamin Duran, "Osmanlı Devleti'nin Son Döneminde Türkiye'de Karayolu Ulasımındaki Gelismeler,"
in Çagını Yakalayan Osmanlı! Osmanlı Devleti'nde Modern Haberlesme ve Ulastırma Teknikleri, ed.
Ekmeleddin Lhsanoglu and Mustafa Kaçar (Lstanbul: Lslam Tarih, Sanat ve Kültür Arastırma Merkezi
(IRCICA), 1995), 484.
19
developments in transportation technology. In other words, Tütengil links the degradation
of an extended Ottoman road network to the shift from the Mediterranean trade to the
new oceanic trade routes. Tütengil also mentions the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869
as another explanatory factor. Finally, he counts the establishment of railroads as another
reason behind the underdevelopment of the Ottoman road network in the later period.49
In this framework, Tütengil prefers to link the destruction of old Ottoman trade
routes to two “external” factors: geographical discoveries and the development of new
transportation techniques. Such an analysis leads him to either technological determinism
or the relative underdevelopment of the Ottoman Empire in comparison to a “developed
West” which possessed the ability to discover new worlds. In any case, Tütengil’s
analysis concludes that Ottomans lacked an efficient road system when the empire
collapsed.50 Schoenberg shares this view and concludes that Ottoman efforts to improve
their transportation technology in the nineteenth century, including highways, were “too
little and too late.”51
49 Cavit Orhan Tütengil, Rçtimai ve Rktisadi Bakımdan Türkiye'nin Karayolları (Lstanbul: Lstanbul Matbaası,
1961), 16-17. For a similar approach see, Cengiz Orhonlu, Osmanlı Rmparatorlugunda Sehircilik ve Ulasım
Üzerine Arastırmalar (Lzmir: Ege Üniversitesi Edebiyat Fakültesi, 1984), 146.
50 The authors of a book published in 1973 by the Turkish Republic General Directorate of Highways adopt
a similar argument and blame the discovery of the Cape of the Great Hope and the opening of the Suez
Canal for the decline of Ottoman roads. Bayındırlık Bakanlıgı Karayolları Genel Müdürlügü, Cumhuriyetin
Ellinci Yılında Karayollarımız (Ankara: Karayolları Genel Müdürlügü Matbaası, 1973), 12. Similarly,
authors who analyze Ottoman roads in the pre-nineteenth century era refer to the geographical discoveries
and the technological revolution in the transportation sector as the major factors that decreased the empire’s
role in worldwide trade. See for example, Orhonlu, Osmanlı Rmparatorlugunda Sehircilik ve Ulasım
Üzerine Arastırmalar, 146; Alber Howe Lybyer, "Osmanlı Türkleri ve Dogu Ticaret Yolları," Tarih
Rncelemeleri Dergisi, no. 3 (1987): 156-57; Yavuz Ercan, "Osmanlılarda Ticaret ve Ticaret Yollarının
Ekonomik ve Toplumsal Hayattaki Yeri," Silahlı Kuvvetler Dergisi 104, no. 295 (1985): 115; Mahmut H.
Sentürk, "Osmanlı Lmparatorlugu'nun Yol Teskilatı ve Ulasım Sistemi," Rlim ve Sanat no. 16 (1987).
51 Philip Ernest Schoenberg, "The Evolution of Transport in Turkey (Eastern Thrace and Asia Minor) under
Ottoman Rule, 1856-1918," Middle Eastern Studies 13, no. 3 (1977): 370.
20
Thus, while the first approach as exemplified by Quataert and Duran focuses on
the internal dynamics of the Ottoman Empire –such as the corruption of the tımar system,
the second viewpoint advocated by Tütengil emphasizes external factors in order to
explain the deterioration of the Ottoman road network.52 Both perspectives agree,
however, that the Ottoman road network was relatively deteriorated by the nineteenth
century. Under these circumstances, the provincial representatives, whom Sultan
Abdülmecid invited to Istanbul in 1845 to discuss the most urgent problems and vital
needs of the empire, mentioned the construction of roads as their second utmost demand,
after the elimination of the unjust taxation system.53
It is in such a context that Ottoman officials cited the significance of roadbuilding
in one of the most important official declarations in Ottoman history in the midnineteenth
century. The 1856 Reform Act (Islahat Fermanı) indicated that “steps shall
also be taken for the formation of roads and canals to increase the facilities of
communication and increase the sources of wealth for the country.”54 In this context,
Ottoman authorities viewed roads as an important means of state power and tried to act
accordingly in their efforts to construct a road network throughout the empire. Thus,
52 It is also possible to argue against the statement that road haulage deteriorated in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries by rationalizing and justifying the underdevelopment of land traffic with reference to
the Ottoman policy of provisionism. According to Mentzel for example, Ottomans did not need a welldeveloped
road network because they were not interested in an export-oriented economy. This approach,
however, overlooks the long-established regional economies within the Ottoman Empire itself. Mentzel,
19.
53 Musa Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde Türkiye'de Yönetim," Belleten LII, no. 203 (1988): 622; Mehmet
Seyitdanlıoglu, "Tanzimat Dönemi Lmar Meclisleri," Ankara Üniversitesi Osmanlı Tarihi Arastırma ve
Uygulama Merkezi Dergisi (OTAM), no. 3 (1992): 326.
54 Akram Fouad Khater, ed., Sources in the History of the Modern Middle East (Houghton: Mifflin, 2004),
18.
21
Ottomans engaged in a broad scale road reform in the second half of the nineteenth
century, which brought radical changes in Ottoman road-building practices.
First, while roads continued to have military functions they gained a new function
by providing internal security within a broader imperial geography. In this context,
security did not only have a “military” connotation in the nineteenth century. With the
evolution of the modern state, it included a whole range of new measures which infused
into people’s everyday lives. Accordingly, authorities envisioned increasing the
infrastructural power of the state in order to “penetrate its territories and logistically
implement decisions.”55 The fact that the number of civil servants increased from
approximately 2,000 at the end of the eighteenth century to 35,000-50,000 in 1908 alone
should be enough to prove to what extent the new Ottoman state tried to invade the social
realm.56 In the context of road haulage, this shift from a military to a security state meant
the introduction of quarantines along roads or monitoring the freedom of movement of
55 I borrow the term “infrastructural power of the state” from Michael Mann. Mann uses this term in order
to challenge the Weberian notion of the modern state which increased its “despotic power over society” as
it increased its infrastructural power. On the contrary, Mann identifies infrastructural power as a “two-way
street” which also enabled “civil society parties to control the state.” This dissertation hopes to go one step
further and situate the infrastructural power of the modern state within a local context in order to transcend
the state vs. (civil) society dichotomy inherent to Mann’s theory. A local perspective may also glue the
national vs. regional divide, another duality to which Mann adheres as he argues that “infrastructurally
more powerful states increase national and geopolitical collective powers at the expense of local-regional
and transnational ones.” The binary analysis of Mann persists even when he refers to the in-cohesive and
non-unitary nature of the modern state. He suggests that “the state is no longer a small, private central place
and elite with its own rationality. “It” contains multiple institutions and tentacles.” “Modern political power
as place and actor, infrastructure and despot, elite and parties,” Mann continues, “is dual, concerning both a
center, with its multiple power particularities, and center-territory relations, with their power particularities.
“Its” cohesion is always problematic.” What is also problematic in this analysis is first the binary language
Mann uses (in other words, center vs. territory), and second, the implicit assumption that power diffuses
from the center to the territory (but not vice versa) despite the modern state’s multiple incoherencies.
Michael Mann, The Sources of Social Power: The Rise of Classes and Nation-States, 1760-1914, vol. 2
(Cambridge & New York: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 59, 61.
56 Donald Quataert, The Ottoman Empire, 1700-1922, Second ed. (New York: Cambridge University Press,
2005), 62.
22
both Ottoman subjects and citizens of other states. As Mann suggests, the maintenance of
communication infrastructure was one of the “logistical techniques which . . . aided
effective state penetration of social life.”57
For example in 1913, the governor of Erzurum Mehmet Emin emphasized the
importance of the Erzurum-Bayezid road in pacifying and disarming the Kurdish tribes.
According to the governor, Bayezid suffered from not only poverty but also the tribes
which constantly caused tension in the sub-province. There were disagreements amongst
the tribes as well as conflicts between Ottoman authorities and tribal members. Therefore,
tribes endangered law and order in the Ottoman Empire.58 The formation of the Hamidiye
Regiments59 in 1891 by Sultan Abdülhamit II and the ensuing armament of the tribes
only worsened the problem. According to Mehmet Emin, this was not the fault of the
“ignorant” (cahil) tribal members, but of the former Hamidian regime (hükümet-i zulm ve
müstebid), which preferred to turn its own innocent citizens into brigands. Now in 1913,
the constitutional regime needed to pacify tribal members and settle them as farmers. In
order to reform the tribes, officials had to infiltrate into the everyday life of the tribal
members so as to fully understand their culture and customs (asair-i mezkure arasına
girilerek bunların halet-i ruhiye ve içtimaiyelerinin nazar-ı teemmüle alınması). This
challenging project necessitated the construction of the Erzurum-Bayezid road which
57 Michael Mann, "The Autonomous Power of the State: Its Origins, Mechanisms and Results," in States in
History, ed. John A. Hall (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1986), 116-17.
58 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912); PMOA, DH.SYS 90/1-5, 28 Recep 1331
(3 July 1913)
59 For more information see Chapter Seven or Janet Klein, The Margins of Empire: Kurdish Militias in the
Ottoman Tribal Zone (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2011).
23
would bring law and order to the tribes and “conquer” them by turning their nomadic
peoples into sedentary farmers.60 Thus, quoting Scott, for the governor of Erzurum, roads
were actually a “state project of legibility and simplification” or a “project of internal
colonization.”61
In this context, one major transformation that the emergence of the modern state
brought about was the way the Ottoman state interacted with its subjects in the nineteenth
century. Whereas early modern empires were in dialogue with communities, the modern
state tried to get into direct contact with its citizens on an individual basis. Therefore,
instead of relying on local power-holders such as the tımar-holders or tax-farmers for the
construction of roads, the imperial center regulated and standardized the process of roadbuilding
in the nineteenth century. This was especially prominent in the case of the
attempt to individuate the road tax –as will be discussed in Chapter One. Similar efforts
were observed in other aspects of everyday life as well. Consequently, the use of roads
gradually became more of an individual act. An article published in the newspaper
Trabzon in 1900 gives us some clues on this issue.
The newspaper advocated hotels as trademarks of civilization (as opposed to
khans) and praised the city of Trabzon for being home to a considerable number of
60 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912); PMOA, DH.SYS 90/1-5, 28 Recep 1331
(3 July 1913)
61 James Scott, Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed
(New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 1998), 82. Roads had this “civilizing mission” in other
parts of the empire as well. For example, Governor Osman Nuri Pasha, who wanted to “civilize” the
Bedouins of Hejaz and Yemen provinces, stated that building roads was one of the “six major priorities ‘for
the survival and flourishing of any state’ at the level of provincial administration.” Selim Deringil, "They
Live in a State of Nomadism and Savagery: The Late Ottoman Empire and the Post-Colonial Debate,"
Comparative Studies in Society and History 45, no. 3 (2003): 327. For a general discussion of the Ottoman
civilizing mission or “Ottoman man’s burden”, see Ussama Makdisi, "Ottoman Orientalism," American
Historical Review 107, no. 3 (2002).
24
hotels.62 Not surprisingly, only two weeks later, the newspaper published a story about a
khan in Gümüshane that was partially damaged because a rock fell on its roof from a
nearby mountain. Luckily, no human casualties or damage to commercial goods were
recorded. Only four camels of a caravan operator named Biram Ali from Tabriz died
during the incident.63
In the same issue, another piece of news reported that Miraçzade Hacı Ahmet
Effendi, a sheep merchant from Bayburt, lost twelve sheep (he had 450 in total) because
the upper floor of a khan in Degirmendere collapsed on them. Ahmet Effendi was on his
way to Istanbul to sell the sheep. During the incident, forty-five sheep were trapped under
the debris, but porters who had been sleeping in a nearby coffeehouse were able to rescue
thirty-three of them. The acting police chief (polis komiseri vekili) of Degirmendere
revealed that the upper floor collapsed because it could not carry the weight of more than
five hundred sacks which had been stored there.64
The depiction of hotels as safe, sterile, and civilized places as opposed to the
dangerous and unhealthy khans is a good example of how people’s experiences traveling
on roads gradually acquired an individual quality over the course of the nineteenth
century. Khans were collective spaces whereas hotels provided an individual room for
each traveler. Needless to say, whether or not these discursive changes were experienced
in practice by travelers on a daily basis and to what extent is a question that begs to be
explored. Unfortunately, we only have accounts of European travelers who praised the
62 Trabzon, No: 1391, 23 Ramazan 1317 / 13 January 1315 (25 January 1900), p. 2
63 Trabzon, No: 1393, 7 Sevval 1317 / 27 January 1315 (8 February 1900), p. 3
64 Ibid., p. 4
25
comfort that hotels provided: “But of all the luxuries, the one we appreciated most was
privacy –the fact of having a room one could call one’s own, from which an impertinent
intruder might be kicked and a bore excluded, and our luggage might be tumbled about
and left in handy confusion, and where a quite reasonable stare might be taken in the
looking-glass without the doing so inviting criticism from friends and strangers.”65
Another Western traveler also notes that the doors of the rooms in Erzurum’s Grand
Hotel had knob handles and locks, a feature which provided privacy.66
Roads also accelerated the flow of both humans and goods from one urban center
to another. Thus, the need to speed up commercial transactions also paralleled the
emergence of a new perception of time. Not surprisingly, in 1900, Trabzon published an
article which supported the belief that “time is money”.67 Thus, we can argue that
Ottoman literary elites practiced the “annihilation of space by time” in their literary
world. According to them, road politics of the nineteenth century constituted a major step
in the creation of the modern state as innovations in transportation contributed to the
process of time-space convergence.68 This, of course, should be thought of in the broader
context of a changing empire where clock-towers were erected in major cities, and
transportation was subject to strict timetables with the construction of railroads. Time
65 Henry C. Barkley, A Ride through Asia Minor and Armenia: Giving a Sketch of the Characters,
Manners, and Customs of Both the Mussulman and Christian Inhabitants (London: John Murray, 1891),
346.
66 Alexander MacDonald, The Land of Ararat or up the Roof of the World (London & Sydney: Eden,
Remington & Co., 1893), 121.
67 Trabzon, No: 1397, 6 Zilkade 1317 / 24 Subat 1315 (8 March 1900), p. 2
68 Anthony Giddens, The Nation-State and Violence: Volume Two of a Contemporary Critique of Historical
Materialism (Berkeley & Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1987), 173.
26
was now conceptualized as a linear process that was in constant progress rather than a
circular one where reliance on seasonal cycles became less important in sectors like
agriculture and transportation thanks to technological developments.69 However, certain
aspects such as how abrupt these changes or how widespread their acknowledgement
were require further research.
Taking for granted these changes in road-building practices observed in the
nineteenth century, the existing secondary literature on the Ottoman road reform analyzes
this subject solely from a modernization paradigm framework. The next section will test
the validity of this approach and argue for the development of a more nuanced
understanding of what Ottoman modernization actually meant in practice.
Ottoman Roads in Historiography and the Critique of Modernization:
In general terms, Ottoman historiography on transportation in the nineteenth
century emphasizes the construction of railroads and the introduction of modern sea
transportation techniques but neglects roads.70 This historiography places railroads and
69 For further information see Bekir Cantemir, The Changing Conception of Time: Calendar and Clock
from the Ottoman Empire to the Republic of Turkey (Unpublished Thesis, Bogaziçi University, 2004); On
Barak, Egyptian Times: Temporality, Personhood, and the Technopolitical Making of Modern-Egypt, 1830-
1930 (Unpublished Dissertation, New York University, 2009); Avner Wishnitzer, The Transformation of
Ottoman Temporal Culture During the Long Nineteenth Century (Unpublished Dissertation, Tel Aviv
University, 2009).
70 See for example the sections on transportation in Tanzimat’tan Cumhuriyet’e Türkiye Ansiklopedisi
(Lstanbul: Lletisim Yayınları, 1984-1985). For railroads see Donald Quataert, "Limited Revolution: The
Impact of the Anatolian Railway on Turkish Transportation and the Provisioning of Istanbul, 1890-1908,"
Business History Review 51, no. 2 (1977); William Ochsenwald, The Hijaz Railroad (Charlottesville:
University Press of Virginia, 1980); Murat Özyüksel, Osmanlı-Alman Rliskilerinin Gelisim Sürecinde
Anadolu ve Bagdat Demiryolları (Lstanbul: Arba Yayınları, 1988); Vahdettin Engin, Rumeli Demiryolları
(Lstanbul: Eren Yayınları, 1993); Ufuk Gülsoy, Hicaz Demiryolu (Lstanbul: Eren Yayınları, 1994); Adham
M. Fahmy, "Between Mystical and Military: The Architecture of the Hejaz Railway (1900-1918)," in
Abdullah Kuran Rçin Yazılar, ed. Çigdem Kafesçioglu and Luciene Thys Senocak (Lstanbul: Yapı Kredi
Yayınları, 1999); Murat Özyüksel, Hicaz Demiryolu (Lstanbul: Tarih Vakfı Yurt Yayınları, 2000); Jonthan
27
steamships within the framework of the Ottoman Empire’s integration into the world
economy. In that sense, these studies picture the domestic economy of the Ottoman
Empire as if it were a tabula rasa before the European economic expansion. In this
picture, Ottoman economy waited patiently for the “West” to implement its technologies
–such as railroads-, thereby incorporating the small-scale Ottoman economy into the
large-scale global markets. This literature fails to answer one major question: What
happened in the pre-railroad period? More specifically, how were different regions
connected to one another both before and after the railroads? And what about regions
where there were no railroad connections like the area between Trabzon and Bayezid?
As discussed above, scholars who have studied Ottoman roads argue that the
discovery of the Americas and the Cape of Great Hope, and the development of new
transportation techniques such as railroads and the steamship undermined the old trade
routes passing through the Ottoman territories and linking the so-called “East” to the
S. McMurray, Distant Ties: Germany, the Ottoman Empire, and the Construction of the Baghdad Railway
(Westport: Praeger, 2001). For an extended bibliography on Ottoman railroads see the “Bibliographic
Essay” in Mentzel, Transportation Technology and Imperialism in the Ottoman Empire, 1800-1923. In
fact, this deficiency (in transportation history) is not peculiar to Ottoman history. Robert Summerby-
Murray explains that employing statute labor in the construction of local roads in the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries has been highly neglected in North American road literature. Instead, studies
have concentrated mostly on water transport and railways. Robert Summerby-Murray, "Statute Labor on
Ontario Township Roads, 1849-1948: Responding to a Changing Space Economy " Canadian Geographer
43, no. 1 (1999): 37. While Summerby-Murray provides no explanation for this lack of interest, Theo
Barker and Dorian Gerhold suggest that the existence of commercial exchange via road transport since very
early times has led to this neglect. Since historians were able to compare the pre- and post-railway and
canal periods, they attributed much more importance to these two new transportation systems. Theo Barker
and Dorian Gerhold, The Rise and Rise of Road Transport, 1700-1990 (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1995), 33. At this point, one may conclude that historians’ general failure was to overlook how the
centuries-long existence of roads might have served different functions in changing historical
circumstances. Gerhold also shows the significance of road haulage in Britain during the Industrial
Revolution as opposed to common beliefs that water transport was the main means of transportation.
Dorian Gerhold, Road Transport before the Railways: Russell's London Flying Waggons (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1993), 1. According to Libbie J. Freed, the emphasis on railroads and
steamships as opposed to roads is also a common feature of African history of technology. In sharp contrast
to this hisroriographical fallacy however, French colonial powers built actual roads whereas railroad
projects remained only as unfulfilled plans. See Freed, 16, 24, 56.
28
“West.” In contrast, this dissertation will argue that the lack of attention paid to the
construction of new roads in the Ottoman Empire starting from the mid-nineteenth
century onwards is not related to such historical facts, but to a general historiographical
trend in Ottoman studies which prefers to emphasize the empire’s integration into the
world economy. Thus, this body of literature ignores other important issues which were
of particular importance to the internal dynamics of the empire.
A critical reading of contemporary Ottoman sources reveals that Ottoman subjects
viewed roads as a factor that boosted the internal dynamism of the empire. In the Trabzon
provincial yearbook, roads were frequently resembled to veins which united the imperial
landscape in a fashion similar to veins that connected different parts of the human body.71
Similarly, after a cursory glance at journalist Ahmet Serif’s two-volume travelogue where
he described his journey in different parts of the empire during 1909-1910, one can easily
conclude that even the smallest villages were connected to urban centers via roads.
Although most roads were not in good condition –except for the ones between Trabzon-
Erzurum, Adapazarı-Bolu, and those in Albania-,72 it is still important that they served
their primary function of linking different regions to one another. Moreover, Serif
mentions many times throughout his travelogue that he encountered people, animals,
coffee houses, bakeries, shops, khans, and gendarmerie stations along the roads73 -a fact
71 For example see “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1309 (1891-1892), 166; "Umur-u Nafia," in
Trabzon Salnamesi 1320 (1902-1903), 108; “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1321 (1903-1904), 204
72 For example see Ahmet Serif, Anadolu’da Tanin, ed. Mehmed Çetin Börekçi, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Ankara:
Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1999), 306, 08, 10, 12, 14, 16, 24, 75, 77, 452; ———, Arnavudluk’da,
Sûriye’de, Trablusgarb’da Tanin, ed. Mehmed Çetin Börekçi, 2 vols., vol. 2 (Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu
Basımevi, 1999), 8, 35, 37, 59, 93.
73 Serif, Anadolu’da Tanin, 306, 09, 11-12, 76, 453; ———, Arnavudluk’da, Sûriye’de, Trablusgarb’da
Tanin, 58, 93.
29
which proves that Ottoman subjects frequently used roads even though most of them
were not in good condition.
It is also important to keep in mind that different types of transportation were not
mutually exclusive. For example, road haulage did not have to recede as a consequence
of an increase in the importance of sea transportation or railways. On the contrary, the
Trabzon-Tabriz trade route started to gain significance between 1830s and 1860s as a
result of the introduction of steam navigation between Istanbul and Trabzon in 1836.74
Ottoman authorities were well aware of this fact. In 1912 for example, the Governor of
Erzurum suggested the construction of a railroad line between Trabzon and Erzurum.
According to the governor, the railroad would not cause the caravan trade lose
importance and make roads redundant. On the contrary, he argued that the European case
proved to be quite the opposite. Even though the continent was covered by railroad
tracks, Europeans still made use of roads and river transportation because railroads were
too expensive for voluminous but cheap merchandise. Therefore, some merchants still
resorted to land transportation depending on the merchandise that they were trading.
Besides, thanks to the railroad line, both Trabzon and Rize could serve as port cities for
74 Issawi, "The Tabriz-Trabzon Trade," 18. Selahattin Tozlu also shares the same view. See, Tozlu,
"Trabzon-Erzurum-Tebriz Yolu (XIX. Yüzyılda Sosyal ve Ekonomik Bakımdan Bir Lnceleme)," 483. The
complementary relationship between different means of transportation was not peculiar to the Ottoman
Empire, and was also observed in the so-called more “developed” countries. Between 1850 and 1900, 1.5
million miles of new roads were opened in the United States of America to provide access to river and
canal ports and to railway stations. Karl Raitz, "American Roads, Roadside America," Geographical
Review 88, no. 3 (1998): 367. For the next twenty-five years, horse-haulage continued to serve in shortterm
travels by connecting local distributors to important railheads. Gijs P. A. Mom and David A. Kirsch,
"Technologies in Tension: Horses, Electric Trucks, and the Motorization of American Cities, 1900–1925,"
Technology and Culture, no. 42 (2001): 491. Howard also notes that there was no competition between
roads and railroads in the nineteenth-century United States. Thomas Frederick Howard, Sierra Crossing:
First Roads to California, Berkeley, Los Angeles & London: University of California Press, 1998, 77.
30
Erzurum because the plains in this province were so fertile that they could yield enough
produce to serve both ports.75
In this context, roads were essential for the creation of a unified empire in the
absence of an extended railroad network in the Ottoman world. Therefore, it is important
to distinguish between roads which ran parallel to railways and roads which cut across
trade routes. While the former became less important as a consequence of the new
railroad technology, the latter gained significance. As railways promoted more
commerce, roads that fed them witnessed an increase in traffic whereas roads parallel to
railroads could not compete with their competitors’ effectiveness. It is for these reasons
that merchants still transported half of their goods via roads in Anatolia and Syria
throughout the nineteenth century.76
Ottoman authorities themselves were aware of this fact and prioritized the
construction of roads rather than railroads. Certainly, the Anatolian peninsula and the
Arab provinces, especially Bagdad, needed railroad lines. Authorities, however, did not
see any point in building railroads as long as the empire lacked a widespread road
network that could connect towns and villages to railroad stations. Moreover, the
geographical impact of railroads was limited to a certain route, its immediate vicinity,
and to particular stations whereas roads could go everywhere and did not require specific
connection points marked by railroad stations. As a result, the Ottoman state decided to
invest more money in road-building projects than in the construction of railroads.77
75 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
76 Quataert, "The Age of Reforms, 1812-1914," 818, 20-21.
77 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 478/69, 4 Recep 1292 (6 August 1875)
31
Ottoman officials were, to a certain extent, aware of what Harvey’s argument a century
later would suggest: “spatial barriers can be reduced only through the production of
particular spaces (railways, highways, airports, teleports, etc.).”78
Ottoman officials also thought that the development and commercialization of
agriculture was a much more viable economic goal compared to industrialization and
railroad-building. Their commitment to pragmatic and realistic policies led authorities to
enact “defensive” economic strategies rather than launching an industrial take-off which
was, according to them, pointless and unpractical in a world-historical context, where it
would be very difficult for them to catch up with other states’ level of industrial
development. Therefore, rather than wasting their limited resources in adventurous
economic policies which would yield no productive results, Ottoman bureaucrats
preferred to focus on a sector that already constituted the majority of the Ottoman state’s
income: agriculture.79 For this purpose, there was need for model farms (numune
çiftlikleri), a decrease in agricultural taxes, a policy of subsidized farming, the cultivation
of empty lands, and the opening of new marketplaces (pazar) and exhibitions (sergi).80
Roads acquired another important role in this context as they could transfer agricultural
goods from rural areas to urban centers and global markets. In other words, whereas
78 David Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity: An Inquiry into the Origins of Cultural Change (Oxford
& Cambridge: Basil Blackwell, 1989), 232.
79 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 478/69, 4 Recep 1292 (6 August 1875). For an example see Mehmet Salih Erkek,
"Bir II. Mesrutiyet Aydınının Gözünden Osmanlı Devletinde Ulasım ve Ticaret," in Ciepo Uluslararası
Osmanlı Öncesi ve Osmanlı Tarihi Arastırmaları 6. Ara Dönem Sempozyum Bildirileri, ed. Adnan Sisman,
Tuncer Baykara, and Mehmet Karayaman (Usak: Usak Lli Kalkınma Vakfı, 2011), 620.
80 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 478/69, 4 Recep 1292 (6 August 1875)
32
industrialization concentrated on urban areas, agricultural policies required much tighter
rural-urban connections.
These ideas and policies of Ottoman civil servants speak against a bias in current
Ottoman studies: the tendency to focus on international trade rather than domestic
markets. Although Ottoman bureaucrats’ focus was on how to connect small towns and
villages to major economic centers, the current historiography on the economy of the
Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth century emphasizes port cities which were the
trademarks of the impact that international trade had on the Ottoman economy.81 Yet, the
question of how goods arrived from internal regions to specific port cities, especially in
regions which lacked any railroad connections, remains unanswered.
In reality, Ottoman domestic trade was much bigger in volume when compared to
its worldwide commerce both during the nineteenth century and before. While
international trade increased sixty-four times worldwide in the nineteenth century, it grew
only ten to sixteen times in the Ottoman Empire. Thus, the Ottoman Empire’s role in the
global economy had actually declined in the 1800s compared to the 1600s.82 In this
context, the abolition of internal customs is a useful example to demonstrate that the
creation of an internal market was at least as important for Ottoman authorities as
integration into the global economy. The Reform Decree of 1856 explicitly stated the
81 See for example Çaglar Keyder, Donald Quataert, and Eyüp Y. Özveren, eds., Dogu Akdeniz'de Liman
Kentleri 1800-1914 (Istanbul: Tarih Vakfı Yurt Yayınları, 1994); Meropi Anastassiadou, Tanzimat
Çagında Bir Osmanlı Sehri: Selanik (Istanbul: Tarih Vakfı Yurt Yayınları, 2001); Mark Mazower,
Salonica, City of Ghosts: Christians, Muslims and Jews, 1430-1950 (New York: Knopf, 2005); Ilham
Khuri-Makdisi, The Eastern Mediterranean and the Making of Global Radicalism, 1860-1914 (University
of California Press, 2010); Meltem Toksöz and Biray Kolluoglu, eds., Cities of the Mediterranean: From
the Ottomans to the Present Day (London & New York: I. B. Tauris, 2010).
82 Faroqhi, Subjects of the Sultan, 50; Keyder, Quataert, and Özveren, eds., 130, 37.
33
significance of promoting internal trade: “The local taxes shall, as far as possible, be so
imposed as not to affect the sources of production or to hinder the progress of internal
commerce.”83 In 1874, approximately twenty years after Ottoman authorities started to
systematically construct new roads and renovate already existing ones, the Ottoman state
abolished internal customs for all exchanges made via road haulage.84
It is obvious in this example that the Ottomans aimed at the unification of the
imperial market; however, unification did not necessarily mean centralization, another
prevalent paradigm in nineteenth-century Ottoman studies. While new roads made
Ottoman Empire’s distant territories much more accessible to the imperial center, they
also connected particular provinces with their neighbors. The 1869 Charter of Roads
defined four distinct categories of roads. These were imperial roads (turuk-i sultani),
provincial roads (turuk-i vilayet), sub-provincial roads (turuk-i sancak), and district roads
(turuk-i kaza).85
The most crucial element in this categorization is the fact that it distinguished
imperial roads from provincial roads. According to the charter, imperial roads would
connect provincial centers to the capital city Istanbul, to important port cities, and
83 Khater, 18.
84 Ahmet Tabakoglu, "Yenilesme Dönemi Osmanlı Ekonomisi," in Türkler, ed. Hasan Celal Güzel, Kemal
Çiçek, and Salim Koca (Ankara: Yeni Türkiye Yayınları, 2002), 227; Philip S. Khoury, Urban Notables
and Arab Nationalism: The Politics of Damascus, 1860-1920 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2003), 49. For further information on internal customs see Genç, Osmanlı Rmparatorlugunda Devlet ve
Ekonomi.
85 Musa Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde Karayolu Yapımı," Dil, Tarih, Cografya Fakültesi Tarih
Arastırmaları Dergisi XV, no. 26 (1991): 155; Nazım Berksan, Yol Davamız Nerede? Dün 1300-1920,
Bugün 1920-1950, Yarın... (Ankara: Akın Matbaası, 1951), 13; Llhan Tekeli and Selim Llkin, "Osmanlı
Lmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," in
Çagını Yakalayan Osmanlı! Osmanlı Devleti'nde Modern Haberlesme ve Ulastırma Teknikleri, ed.
Ekmeleddin Lhsanoglu and Mustafa Kaçar (Lstanbul: Lslam Tarih, Sanat ve Kültür Arastırma Merkezi
(IRCICA), 1995), 434; Duran, 484; Tütengil, 17.
34
railroads whereas provincial roads would link provincial centers to one another.
Likewise, district roads were supposed to join different districts both to one another and
to provincial roads, sub-provincial roads, major port cities, and railroads.86 In this
context, the Ottoman state paid special attention to connecting even particular villages to
one another. For example in 1899, village roads (hususi yollar) were in disrepair in
Trabzon because of the previous winter’s harsh weather conditions. According to the
regulations of the time, the state could not use forced labor in the construction of village
roads. Therefore, local governments encouraged villagers to reconstruct the roads of their
own village whenever they could spare time from their own work.87
In this organization of the imperial space, it is obvious that the so-called
centralization policies did not only intend to tie provincial centers and sub-provinces to
Istanbul, but also to one other. Hence, an analysis of roads in the Ottoman Empire can
provide a theoretical space to think beyond strict provincial boundaries and to imagine
not only official-provincial, but also alternative-regional terrains.88 It can also make sure
that Ottoman historians do not take provincial boundaries for granted. After all, provinces
were not isolated from one another; on the contrary, they were connected via roads, and
changes in one province could have an impact on other provinces.
86 Ibid.
87 PMOA, DH.TMIK.S 22/98, 28 Saban 1316 (11 January 1899)
88 This point will become clear in Chapter Four which examines the conflicts between Trabzon and Rize.
Even though these two towns were officially part of the broader Trabzon province, there was a rivalry
between them to become the major port city of the Black Sea coast. Moreover, Rize was in economic
contact more with Russian Caucasia than the Ottoman cities to its south like Erzurum.
35
In this context, Issawi considers “growing difficulties on the Bagdad route” as one
of the factors which amplified the importance of the Trabzon-Tabriz trade route between
1830s and 1860s.89 At this point, based on Fattah’s claims, one may argue that the
resistance to the implementation of the 1838 free trade treaty between the British and the
Ottomans might be one of the difficulties that Issawi refers to as a threat that the Bagdad
road posed to merchants. Fattah follows the same periodization as Issawi and concludes
that the influence of the treaty began to be observed in the Bagdad region only from the
1860s onwards.90 Thus, one may easily conclude that social changes in one province, in
this case Baghdad’s resistance to the implementation of a free trade treaty, contributed to
the rejuvenation of a trade route in another province, namely Trabzon.
This point further emphasizes the importance of roads for Ottoman historywriting.
Since roads connected different parts of the imperial geography, studying them
can help historians to go beyond the limited geographical focus of another recent
historiographical trend, provincial history. Starting in the early 1990s, a younger
generation of Ottoman historians displayed a tendency to focus on one province of the
Ottoman geography as their unit of analysis and to follow a two-tiered framework. On the
one hand, they analyzed how authorities implemented centralizing reforms in a given
province and on the other, they tried to observe how the integration of the specific
province to the world economy had an impact on the everyday life of different social
groups in the province.
89 Issawi, "The Tabriz-Trabzon Trade," 18.
90 Hala Fattah, The Politics of Regional Trade in Iraq, Arabia, and the Gulf, 1745-1900 (Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1997), 1.
36
These studies no doubt contributed to research on the Ottoman Empire in a
positive way. The focus on ordinary people and their everyday lives is perhaps their most
significant contribution. Yet these studies are, nonetheless, restricted by the conventional
historiography of the Ottoman Empire according to which either the central state or the
“West” emerges as the main actor behind the changes in the social structure of the
empire. In other words, even though these historians explicitly center their discussion on
provincial actors such as merchants and peasants, their assessment of provincial life
implicitly defines the Ottoman central state or a totally external factor such as the global
economy as the main historical agent. Since these provincial analyses identify the
imperial capital or European economic expansion as the initiator of reforms and social
change, the provinces and their residents are for them only an arena where they can track
the advances of the central state and the integration of the empire to the world economy.91
91 For example, based on Michael Mann’s “infrastructural power of the state,” Eugene Rogan’s Frontiers of
the State presents a very institutionalist conception of the state, reduced to a merely technical definition.
Thus, Rogan fails to examine the interactions between the Ottoman state and society. The state remains in
his analysis as the sole initiator of modernity and change, without asking the question as to how the state
constituted its legitimacy. Consequently, Rogan does not include peasants or the labor force of Transjordan
in his general discussion. He restricts his analysis to an “elitist” approach and refers only to the social
actors like the missionaries, merchants or the notables who acted as intermediaries between the “state” and
“society,” without further elaborating or complicating this dualistic “politics of notables” paradigm first
used by Hourani back in the 1960s. See Albert Hourani, "Ottoman Reform and the Politics of Notables," in
The Modern Middle East: A Reader, ed. Albert Hourani, Philip S. Khoury, and Mary C. Wilson (London:
I.B.Tauris Co., 1993). For a review of this paradigm see James Gelvin, “The Politics of Notables Forty
Years After,” Middle East Studies Association Bulletin 40:1 (June 2006). In that sense, Rogan does not take
into consideration the possibility of other regional interactions or rural-urban relations. He restricts his
focus to the imperial center and how it enacted its policies in the provincial urban centers, and thus
completely ignores the rural hinterland or regional patterns of trade. Rogan’s examination also fails to
differ from the teleological nation-state historiography of Jordan which takes World War I as a turning
point in the country’s history, breaking it from the oppressive past of the Ottomans. In this conventional
account, the establishment of Jordan as an independent state was an inevitable step in the country’s path
towards modernity. In that sense, Rogan only shifts the historical watershed of World War I back to the
Ottoman Tanzimat Period. For instance, he openly supports the idea that the infrastructural developments
implemented during this period reinforced the creation of a national economy. Eugene L. Rogan, Frontiers
of the State in the Late Ottoman Empire: Transjordan, 1850-1921 (Cambridge & New York: Cambridge
University Press, 1999). Similarly, in The Culture of Sectarianism, Makdisi sees the Tanzimat reforms of
the Ottoman central state as a historical watershed since they symbolized the birth of the modern era in the
history of the Ottoman Empire. However, Makdisi avoids explaining how local initiatives could have
37
In addition to this statist and Eurocentric bias, provincial history also disregards
the imperial geography at large, as it limits its geographical focus to just one province
and the imperial center, and more specifically to the relationship between the two. In
other words, provincial history takes for granted the official boundaries drawn between
the provinces by imperial bureaucrats, and omits alternative imperial spaces such as
regional economies which transcended not only provincial, but also imperial boundaries,
thereby establishing “trans-imperial” links between different imperial actors.
In this context, Fattah suggests that “proceeding from the assumption that the
economic history of the Ottoman provinces necessitates the study of each province on its
created their own watersheds or how they might have had an impact on more general –and imperialhistorical
turning points such as the promulgation of the Tanzimat reforms in 1839. Ussama Makdisi, The
Culture of Sectarianism: Community, History and Violence in Nineteenth Century Ottoman Lebanon
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000). This misunderstanding may even be observed in studies
which attempt to escape it. At first glance, Beshara Doumani’s Rediscovering Palestine may account as one
exception to this approach among provincial historians. Even though Doumani takes only one sub-province
as his unit of analysis, he follows a spatial configuration which allows the readers to imagine multiple
levels of the imperial space. For Doumani, there is neither a hierarchy nor a dichotomy between the center
and the periphery or between the internal and external domains. Since he implicitly bases his analysis on
four distinct spatial levels -the local, the regional, the imperial, and the international- he manages to
deemphasize the central or external factors while defining, at the same time, the centralization policies of
the Ottoman state and European economic expansion as the historical background of his examination. In
that sense, the problem in Doumani’s work is not a limited spatial imagination, but rather his periodization.
While Doumani recognizes the existence of such different spatial levels, he extends the period of this
spatial plurality only up until the 1860s when the Tanzimat reforms, promulgated in 1839, became finally
effective in the provinces. After this date, Doumani’s analysis fails to realize that the nineteenth-century
Palestine was, in fact, different from the Palestine of the twentieth century and falls into the trap of
anachronism. He creates an “imagined” identity of being “Palestinian” and attributes this identity back to
the Ottoman past. Doumani, Rediscovering Palestine: Merchants and Peasants in Jabal Nablus, 1700-
1900. Abou-El-Haj offers a much more comprehensive criticism of Doumani’s discussion and argues that
Doumani’s identification of an eighteenth-century Ottoman sub-province and its inhabitants as
“Palestinians” is itself very problematic regardless of his ability to imagine multiple levels of imperial
space and thus, different levels of identity in the pre-1860 period. See Rifa'at Ali Abou-El-Haj,
"Historiography in West Asian and North African Studies since Sa'id's Orientalism," in History after the
Three Worlds: Post-Eurocentric Historiographies, ed. Arif Dirlik, Vinay Bahl, and Peter Gran (Lanham &
Boulder & New York & Toronto & Oxford: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 2000), 78. In this
historiographical context, this dissertation tries to be a contribution not only to the study of Ottoman roads,
but also to a more general discussion on the methods that the Ottoman historians may employ in their
studies. Thus, this work hopes to go beyond the provincial history paradigm that ultimately remained stuck
to both a Eurocentric bias and contemporary-official/present-nationalist imaginations of the Ottoman
geography along the lines of the provincial borders.
38
own, as distinct from the region of which it formed a part, historians have consistently
imposed barriers on regions that had none.”92 Thus even when they attest to the creation
of a unified imperial market, provincial historians usually limit their focus to the direct
relationship between one province and Istanbul rather than the interdependence between
different provinces. In this context, the study of roads may show how different provinces
were actually connected to one another.
The aim of this discussion is not to deny that the Ottoman economy was
integrated to the global markets in a much more intensive way during the nineteenth
century. It is, however, also important to keep in mind that this did not mean the
disintegration of an Ottoman market that was geographically unified until the external
influx. On the contrary, the incorporation of the Ottoman Empire into the global economy
went hand in hand with the effort to create a much more integrated Ottoman market that
transformed itself from being a sum of different regional clusters to an imperial market.
Therefore, this dissertation will assert that focusing only on internal dynamics
cannot be the best methodology to challenge the emphasis that Ottoman historiography
places on external factors. On the contrary, the creation of a unified market and the
integration of the Ottoman economy to global markets went hand in hand with and
contributed to each other in the nineteenth century. In 1885, for example, authorities
viewed an improved road network as a means of diminishing the discrepancy in local
92 Fattah, 1. A recent publication also criticizes this approach. Accordingly, Toksöz suggests that “assessing
a region beyond provincial manifestations of state presence is the only way to capture economic prosperity
and regional consciousness beyond the inscriptions of the imperial project. Similarly not focusing
singularly on a provincial capital or a port-city spatially mediates regional analysis between central and
global presences.” Meltem Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean: The
Making of the Adana-Mersin Region, 1850-1908 (Leiden & Boston: Brill, 2010), 191.
39
prices in favor of a lower imperial price that would help Ottomans compete with the
influx of foreign goods.93 Therefore, working within a local-regional framework may
bring together a multiplicity of both “internal” and “external” actors.94 Still, given this
discussion, this dissertation does not claim to write the regional history of the Trabzon
and Erzurum provinces; it only suggests that the examination of a road, which connected
two provinces, can be a good starting point to understand the intricacies of the
relationship between different provinces.
As discussed above, scholars who have written on Ottoman roads examined the
subject as a means of incorporation into the world economy. This emphasis on the
external role of the empire also has an ulterior motive of relating the history of roads to
modernization. Overall, scholars of Ottoman roads can be classified in two main
categories: those who consider roads as a token of dependence on foreign powers and
others who want to perceive the Ottoman Empire as an important actor in the world
economy. Tütengil, for example, argues that roads contributed to Ottomans' economic
dependence on European powers which used roads to gain control of the Ottoman
market.95
Tekeli and Llkin exemplify the second approach.96 They maintain that the
empire’s foreign relations determined how the imperial structure transformed in general
93 PMOA, MV 3/23, 4 Recep 1302 (19 April 1885)
94 For an interesting study which argues that both the centralization policies of the Ottoman Empire and its
integration to the world economy contributed together to the creation of a semi-autonomous regional
economy in Çukurova, see Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean, 189.
95 See for example Tütengil, 18.
96 See for example Tekeli and Llkin, "Osmanlı Lmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba
Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 440.
40
during the nineteenth century. In that sense, the birth of modernity and capitalism in
Europe, and consequently the Ottoman Empire’s integration to the world economy and
the centralization policies of Istanbul shaped Ottoman policies concerning road haulage.97
In turn, infrastructural programs, such as road works, determined how and to what extent
the imperial economy incorporated into the world capitalist system and thus, represented
the peripheralization of the empire on a spatial level.98 Therefore, Tekeli and Llkin believe
that it was no coincidence that Mahmud II formed a committee for public works in 1838,
the very same year when the Ottomans and the British signed the Treaty of Balta Limanı,
which turned the empire into an open market.99 Tekeli and Llkin go so far as to argue that
the 1908 Program for Public Works was published in both Ottoman and French mainly
because it appealed to a foreign audience.100
Tekeli and Llkin also interpret the construction of roads as a crucial step in the
Ottoman Empire’s modernization process in the nineteenth century. They see roads as an
important means to establish a rational bureaucracy. They argue that roads also had an
administrative dimension and that the Ottoman state’s efforts to develop its
97 Llhan Tekeli and Selim Llkin, "Türkiye'de Demiryolu Öncelikli Ulasım Politikasından Karayolları
Öncelikli Ulasım Politikasına Geçis," in Cumhuriyetin Harcı: Modernitenin Altyapısı Olusurken (Lstanbul:
Lstanbul Bilgi Yayınları, 2004), 370.
98 ———, "1908 Tarihli "Umur-u Nafia Programı"nın Anlamı Üzerine," in Cumhuriyetin Harcı:
Modernitenin Altyapısı Olusurken (Lstanbul: Lstanbul Bilgi Yayınları, 2004), 176, 78-79.
99 Tekeli and Llkin, "Türkiye'de Demiryolu Öncelikli Ulasım Politikasından Karayolları Öncelikli Ulasım
Politikasına Geçis," 372. This committee was first called Agriculture and Industry Council and was
subordinated to the Ministry of Interior when Mustafa Resit Pasha was the minister. On 13 September
1838, the committee was renamed as “Public Works Council.” Tekeli and Llkin, "Osmanlı
Lmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler,"
433.
100 Tekeli and Llkin, "1908 Tarihli "Umur-u Nafıa Programı"nın Anlamı Üzerine," 177.
41
infrastructural capacity were a sign of modernization. The existence of roads illustrates
that the state increased both its public responsibilities and its power base to reach and
govern its frontiers. Moreover, Tekeli and Llkin read the construction of roads as a
modernist project from the viewpoint of not only the state, but also that of the individual.
They consider it as a channel to go beyond a particular and limited locality and increase
individual mobility and communication networks.101 Thus, for Tekeli and Llkin, road
reform in particular and modernization in general are useful tools for both state power
and individual freedom. In other words, the social utility attributed to modernization also
defines it as an inevitable process. Consequently, in this framework, there is no room for
individuals to reject or shape modernity. Both the state and the individual welcome its
presence.102
At first glance the two views expressed above seem to contradict each other.
While the paradigm represented by Tütengil seems to focus on Ottoman weakness and
dependence on foreign powers, the point of view represented by Tekeli and Llkin focuses
101 Ibid., 176.
102 It is important to note that this preconception, in other words the tendency to favor the modernization
paradigm in studies about roads, is not only a shortcoming on the part of academicians who study the
Ottoman Empire. We observe a similar scholarly weakness among academics who study more “developed”
countries. Laugero, for example, analyses road construction in Britain at the end of the eighteenth and the
beginning of the nineteenth centuries in terms of the Enlightenment paradigm. As the title of his article
suggests, he calls road-making an “infrastructure of Enlightenment.” Following a Foucauldian framework,
Laugero defines roads and road-making as another means of establishing state power. Thus, how people
resisted the modernization of domination gets lost in this picture. Laugero, "Infrastructures of
Enlightenment: Road-Making, the Public Sphere, and the Emergence of Literature," Eighteenth-Century
Studies 29, no. 1 (1996). Yet, we should also mention those scholars who implicitly challenge this
paradigm. For example, Berger argues that road-making –a very modern process itself- led to a decline in
the availability of an efficient and preventive health care service for rural populations. Since doctors
acquired mobility as a result of automobilization in the United States between 1900 and 1929, they left
villages and small towns and moved in to bigger residential places. Thus, doctors lost their capacity to
prevent the emergence of disease and visited rural areas only to cure illnesses. Hence, road-building, as a
modern development in general, did not result in modernizing particular individuals’ everyday lives.
Michael L. Berger, "The Influence of the Automobile on Rural Health Care, 1900-29," Journal of the
History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 28, no. 4 (1973): 326-29.
42
on Ottoman pride in being a part of the world economy even if it led to the empire’s
peripheralization. Consequently, when the former suggests that the Ottoman Empire
failed to construct an efficient road network in the nineteenth century,103 it also concludes
that the real construction of highways started in the 1950s with the Turkish Republic –at
least in the Anatolian part of the remaining Ottoman territories. In contrast, Tekeli and
Llkin support the view that the Turkish Republic inherited from the Ottoman Empire both
technical personnel –who got experienced in the construction of roads during the imperial
period- and an extended road network.104
Duran offers a similar argument and claims that the Ottoman Empire went
through a bi-polar experience in the Tanzimat period. He argues that as the empire’s
traditional structure was destined to face destruction, a parallel historical trajectory led
the empire to a process of reform. In this picture, Duran sees the construction of new
roads as part of the latter process of reform.105 Finally, Çadırcı also highlights the
continuity between the Ottoman Empire and the Turkish Republic, and maintains that the
Tanzimat reforms, including the establishment of new transportation mechanisms,
culminated in the foundation of the new Turkish nation-state.106
103 For other examples see, Süleyman Barda, Münakale Ekonomisi (Istanbul: Lsmail Akgün Matbaası,
1958), 275; Lsmet Miroglu, "Osmanlı Yol Sistemine Dair," Istanbul Üniversitesi Edebiyat Fakültesi Tarih
Enstitüsü Dergisi, Prof. Dr. M. Münir Aktepe'ye Armagan, Ayrı Basım, no. 15 (1997): 252; Vedat Eldem,
Osmanlı Rmparatorlugu'nun Rktisadi Sartları Hakkında Bir Tetkik (Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi,
1994), 95.
104 Tekeli and Llkin, "Osmanlı Lmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba Teknolojisinde ve
Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 440.
105 Duran, 489.
106 Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde Karayolu Yapımı," 153. Apart from these historiographical approaches,
we know that the Turkish Republic inherited a total of 18,335 km / 11,392 miles of roads from the Ottoman
43
However, while these scholars challenge the official ideology of the Turkish
Republic and conclude that the nation-state did not emerge out of the ashes of an oldfashioned
empire, they simultaneously reproduce the same paradigm with the nation-state
historiography. Their main accomplishment is, in fact, changing the periodization of
modern Turkey’s history by shifting the turning point from the establishment of the new
nation-state in 1923 to the Tanzimat period. Consequently, they describe the pre-
Tanzimat period as a traditional and feudal era.107 In other words these scholars prefer to
define the imperial state and not the nation-state and its accompanying nationalist
ideology as the main actor of change and the agent of modernity. Yet, their approach is
nevertheless defined by a statist, elitist, and modernist outlook. Thus, the two approaches
actually share a paradox: while they seem to challenge each other content-wise, they
share the same analytic mindset which links the study of roads to the incorporation into
the world economy on the one hand and to modernity on the other. In other words, on a
deeper level, they prioritize the external role of the empire over its internal dynamism.
This dissertation will follow in the footsteps of scholars who object to the official
ideology of the Turkish Republic108 and challenge a widespread tendency in Ottoman
historiography that divides Ottoman history into two parts, one of ascendancy and the
other of decline. According to this approach, starting roughly in the seventeenth century,
Empire. Berksan, 59. Moreover, we also know that the road network in all the Ottoman territories reached
24,000 km / 14,912 miles in 1904. Quataert, "The Age of Reforms, 1812-1914," 818.
107 See for example the first two paragraphs of Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde Karayolu Yapımı," 153.
Tekeli and Llkin’s analysis of forced labor also exemplifies this view as will be discussed in detail in
Chapter One.
108 Recently, there has been a change in this attitude and now the Ottoman past of Turkey is more widely
accepted both in public and among the statesmen.
44
the last three centuries of Ottoman history culminated in the collapse of the empire and
the birth of the new Republic.109 This dissertation, on the other hand, will move away
109 According to this old school, the Ottoman Empire expanded and lived its golden age in the first three
hundred years of its existence. Once the empire reached its natural borders, the empire first entered a period
of stagnation and then decline accompanied by territorial shrinkage and political corruption starting from
the seventeenth century onwards. Thus, the first generation of historians identified the second half of the
empire’s history as a period of crises, weakness, and decline which ultimately and inevitably led to the
collapse of the Ottoman Empire in 1922. Especially “Turkish nationalist” historians who want to draw a
clear line between the Ottoman past and the “modern” Republican era present the later centuries of the
Ottoman Empire as a period in which the Ottoman statesmen failed to change (in other words,
“modernize”) the society and deliberately preferred to stay grounded in imperial “traditional” roots. A
slightly revised version of this decline paradigm interprets the new institutionalization efforts of the
nineteenth century as part of the modern state formation. This approach’s drawback is to restrict the
analysis of the nineteenth century to a discussion of modernization which in turn implies not only a
Eurocentric but also an elitist and statist Westernization project. According to these historians, the long
nineteenth century of the Ottoman Empire which started in 1789 with the enthronement of the reformist
Sultan Selim III witnessed a late attempt of the Ottoman ruling elite to modernize and save the empire from
European encroachment. For examples, see Bernard Lewis, The Emergence of Modern Turkey (London &
New York: Oxford University Press, 1961); Roderic H. Davison, Reform in the Ottoman Empire, 1856-
1876 (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1963); Niyazi Berkes, The Development of Secularism in
Turkey (Montreal: McGill University Press, 1964); Stanford J. Shaw, Between Old and New: The Ottoman
Empire under Sultan Selim III, 1789-1807 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1971); Ismail Hakkı
Uzunçarsılı and Enver Ziya Karal, Osmanlı Tarihi, 8 vols. (Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Yayınları, 1972);
Carter V. Findley, Bureaucratic Reform in the Ottoman Empire: The Sublime Porte, 1789-1922 (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1980); Stanford J. Shaw and Ezel Kural Shaw, History of the Ottoman Empire
and Modern Turkey: Reform, Revolution, and Republic - the Rise of Modern Turkey, 1808-1975
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988); Sina Aksin, Türkiye Tarihi: Osmanlı Devleti, 1600-1908,
vol. 3 (Istanbul: Cem Yayınevi, 1990); Alan Palmer, The Decline and Fall of the Ottoman Empire
(London: J. Murray, 1992); Feroz Ahmad, The Making of Modern Turkey (London & New York:
Routledge, 1993); Erik J. Zürcher, Turkey: A Modern History (London & New York: I.B. Tauris, 1993).
The recent introduction of the Foucauldian paradigm further reinforces the prevalence of the modernization
paradigm in Ottoman studies where scholars are now studying topics like public health, medicine,
prostitution, crime, and imprisonment. While the Foucauldian impact should be welcomed for its new
perceptions of history, it is equally important to move away from a notion of the modern Ottoman state that
fully embraced and controlled various aspects of the social realm. In other words, the Foucauldian
paradigm restricts its “social” focus to an analysis of how modern states surrounded the public realm rather
than discussing how social actors might have influenced the formation of modern states. In this context,
historians now look at the new modern state institutions of the nineteenth century such as hospitals,
schools, prisons, asylums, and orphanages as Panopticans. This approach reduces modernization to a
discussion of governmentality. Thus, the Foucauldian paradigm reinforces the already dominant
assumption of state vs. society dichotomy in Ottoman studies. In this context, Mitchell’s work on the
nineteenth century Egypt provides a very good example of both of these approaches. While Mitchell
depicted the nineteenth century as a period of precision, certainty, calculation, decidedness, supervision,
and surveillance in Egypt’s history in his earlier work, he later challenged this overwhelming presentation
of modernity and pointed out the flaws of modern state formation in his later work. See Timothy Mitchell,
Colonizing Egypt (Cambridge & New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988); ———, Rule of Experts:
Egypt, Techno-Politics, Modernity (Berkeley, Los Angeles & London: University of California Press,
2002). Even though the elitist and Eurocentric view has been recently challenged, unfortunately the ghost
of this scholarship still haunts Ottoman historiography. A recent publication by a prominent scholar, Sükrü
Hanioglu, takes the decline paradigm of the eighteenth century as for granted. Sükrü Hanioglu, A Brief
History of the Late Ottoman Empire (Princeton & Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2008). Even though
45
from explanations that present the nineteenth century as a century of decline and
the focus of Hanioglu is on the nineteenth century, he also refers to the eighteenth century, but not in order
to place the foundations of the nineteenth century on the social transformations which took place in
previous centuries. On the contrary, Hanioglu defines the Ottoman Empire as an “anachronism” in the
eighteenth century (Hanioglu, 208). At the end of the nineteenth century however, the empire constituted a
modern state; but the statesmen reformed the empire only to challenge the European threat. Thus, the
Tanzimat Decree of 1839, the Reform Decree (Islahat Fermani) of 1856 and the Constitution of 1876 were
declared as messages to the “Great Powers” in order to prevent their intervention into the empire’s internal
affairs: “the sultan, in a series of well-coordinated moves evidently intended to appease his European
guests, appointed Midhat Pasha as grand vizier and then promulgated the constitution” (Hanioglu, 117). In
other words, the reformist policies of the nineteenth century were initiated by the Western-oriented elite
who wanted to modernize the empire. Thus, by focusing on the Western-oriented elites, Hanioglu not only
presents a statist view of history, but also defines the influence of the “West” as the ultimate cause of the
transformations in the nineteenth century. In other words, he argues that the reformist statesmen engaged in
modernization because they were afraid of the great threat posed by the European powers. Thus, elites
wanted to modernize the empire to rescue the state. Hence, change was caused by external factors rather
than the internal dynamism of the empire: “Tanzimat reforms owed much of their existence to the
encouragement of liberal Europe, and especially Great Britain. . . . They [British statesmen] never fully
comprehended the dilemma confronted by the Ottoman reformers, caught between liberal public opinion
abroad and stubborn resistance by the Muslim masses at home” (Hanioglu, 84). For a radical critique of the
elitist, statist, and Westernist historiography and the so-called “decline” paradigm, see Rifa'at Ali Abou-El-
Haj, Formation of the Modern State: The Ottoman Empire, Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries, Second ed.
(Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2005).; Donald Quataert, “Ottoman History Writing and Changing
Attitudes towards the Notion of Decline,” History Compass 1 (2003): 1-11. For an insightful study which
finds the economic roots of and the social support for the Tanzimat Era back in earlier centuries see,
Khoury, State and Provincial Society in the Ottoman Empire. Khoury bases her analyses on the changes in
the land regime such as the shift from the timar system to tax-farming (iltizam) and then to life-long taxfarming
(malikane). According to Khoury, this process resulted in the emergence of new social classes both
at the center and in the provinces. What is critical in order to understand the Tanzimat reforms of the
nineteenth century are Khoury`s remarks on the social composition of these different classes on the eve of
the Tanzimat Era. Accordingly, Khoury observes the existence of a large number of middle and small-scale
gentry who were the tax-farmers of middle- and small-scale tax-farms. Salzmann also makes a similar
observation and concludes that the shareholders of large-scale tax-farms only constituted 2 % of the total
whereas the equivalent percentage for the middle-scale tax-farms was approximately 10 %. The rest was
shared by the small gentry. See Ariel Salzmann, Tocqueville in the Ottoman Empire: Rival Paths to the
Modern State (Leiden & Boston: Brill, 2004), 108-09. Hence both Khoury and Salzmann conclude that the
malikane system did not create a unified class of tax-farmers, but gave rise to a new hierarchy of social
stratification. What is crucial to understand the nineteenth-century reforms is the fact that this 2 %
dominated not only large-scale tax-farms, but also monopolized political offices. Khoury observes this
phenomenon in Mosul in the case of office-sales. This created resentment among middle- and small-scale
proprietors who in turn would become the advocates of Tanzimat reforms, which aimed at the destruction
of the monopoly on both economic and political power in the provinces. Moreover, the large-scale taxfarmers
were also engaged in a widespread financial nexus and provided credit to the local artisans and
craftsmen who were protected by the Janissaries. Hence, the destruction of the Janissaries in 1826 should
be analyzed within this context. Accordingly, the Janissaries opposed the reform policies of Mahmud II not
only as a military unit. On the contrary, their abolishment had far-reaching socio-economic consequences.
Therefore, Quataert views the so-called “Auspicious Event” (Vaka-yı Hayriye) of 1826 as the real attack on
the guilds rather than the 1838 Balta Limani Treaty signed between the Ottomans and the British which
promoted free trade and liberal economy in the Ottoman Empire. See Donald Quataert, Ottoman
Manufacturing in the Age of the Industrial Revolution (Cambridge & New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1993), 6-7. In this framework, Tanzimat reforms should be analyzed as a new form of class alliances
rather than an attempt at “recentralization.”
46
highlight a specific domain, namely the renovation of a specific road, through which the
Ottoman Empire proved its transformative flexibility. However, while contesting the idea
of Ottoman decline, this dissertation will also challenge the paradigm that applauds the
modern Ottoman state. Instead of giving the Ottoman state a central role, this dissertation
intends to demonstrate how Ottoman subjects constituted and shaped modernity in their
everyday life struggles.110 Hence, while I respect the efforts to shift the turning point in
the historiography of roads from the 1950s to the 1850s, this dissertation also speaks to a
wish to move beyond the paradigm that confirms the Ottoman state’s presence in the
world economy and within the framework of modernity. Instead, this dissertation will
prioritize the local and social dynamism of the empire through the everyday experiences
of ordinary people. It is these practices which defined how the Ottoman state engaged in
and constantly needed to reshape its modernization policies.
Within this framework, this dissertation intends to investigate the construction of
roads not as a progressive state project, but as a social phenomenon through which the
reactions of multiple actors to this state-centered mission are revealed. In other words, the
construction of roads was not necessarily confined to a purely modernist-developmental
endeavor, but was destined to change as a result of the response from a variety of social
actors. As Mitchell observes, developmental projects must be discussed within the
framework of “local practices of regulation, policing, and coercion that sustain a certain
level of inequality” because they are “temporary, reactive, and uncertain . . .
110 For an example, see the attempt in 1861 to shift the use of forced labor system to a monetized form of
road taxation in Chapter One.
47
interventions” and “responses to struggles for specific changes at the local level.”111 Only
such a framework can allow historians to stop seeing roads as, in Winston’s words,
“socially and politically neutral, or as a technological fix.”112
In this context, local practices and changes at the local level challenged the very
logic of developmental state projects which sought rationality and modernity. Hence,
local reactions prevented state projects from achieving planned goals, which requires
scholar to see the projects of the modern state as continuous processes instead of “end
results” in and of themselves. Stated differently, the modern state and its developmental
projects, like the construction of roads, were part of a process through which local power
relations were manifested, inequalities reproduced, and conflicts resolved.
Such an approach can also go beyond a dual framework, which situates the
construction of roads within a transitory period between the past –represented by the
traditional or the feudal- and the present/future –symbolized by the new or the modern.
Instead, the very process of the construction of roads should be problematized. Only that
way can we transcend a static notion of both the past and the present. The refusal to
examine the modern state in a static manner can also help avoid the historiographical
tendency to attribute to it an inevitable role as if its emergence was determined by the
iron laws of history. Rather than reproducing this teleology, this dissertation hopes to
undermine the “success story” of the modern state and demonstrate how, at times, its
projects failed in practice and were forced to adapt to the demands of the local
111 Mitchell, Rule of Experts, 168-9
112 Fiona Wilson, "Towards a Political Economy of Roads: Experiences from Peru," Development and
Change 35, no. 3 (2004): 526.
48
population. This way, we can produce a more dynamic narrative of the modern state
formation rather than a simple success or failure story.
The dynamism of the modern Ottoman state, which had to respond to local
reactions, can in turn highlight the contradictory nature of the nineteenth-century
Ottoman modernization process. As David Harvey suggests,
The image of ‘creative destruction’ is very important to understanding
modernity precisely because it derived from the practical dilemmas that
faced the implementation of the modernist project. How could a new world
be created, after all, without destroying much that had gone before? . . .
Modernism’s travails were also internal. How to contain flowing and
expanding processes in a fixed spatial frame of power relations,
infrastructures and the like could not easily be resolved. The result was a
social system that was all too prone to creative destruction . . . The
opposition between Being and Becoming has been central to modernism’s
history. That opposition has to be seen in political terms as a tension
between the sense of time and the focus of space.113
Similarly, Bauman writes,
The modern mind was born together with the idea that the world can be
changed. Modernity is about rejecting the world as it has been thus far and
the resolution to change it. The modern way of being consists in
compulsive, obsessive change: in the refutation of what ‘merely is’ in the
name of what could, and by the same token ought, to be put in its place. . . .
The modern condition is to be on the move. . . . Modern history has
therefore been a history of designing and a museum/graveyard of designs
tried, used up, rejected and abandoned in the ongoing war of conquest
and/or attrition waged against nature.114
These lines manifest one of the major contradictions of modernity: the optimistic
belief in a better future promises change and progress which, in turn, need to be balanced
and controlled by order and discipline. As Lefebvre suggests, this contradiction has been
intrinsic to the meaning of the word “modern” from the very beginning. Accordingly, the
113 Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity, 16, 281, 83.
114 Zygmunt Bauman, Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts (Oxford: Polity Press, 2004), 23.
49
term “involved the double idea of renewal and of regularity in renewal” or the “idea of
cyclical regularity of change, and of change as a norm.”115 Thus, Lefebvre defines
modernity as “a fruitless attempt to achieve structure and coherence. Everything leads us
to the conclusion that structures are being ‘destructured’ even before they have gained a
coherent internal stability.”116 In the context of roads, this tension between “order” and
“change”, “space” and “time” or “Being” and “Becoming” is manifested in the idea of
governing a society through the construction of roads which in reality contributed to the
further acceleration of mobility and thus social dynamism and instability. As Lefebvre
suggests, “the contradiction between the demands of mobility and the general
preoccupation (on all levels) with stability, security, structure, “structuring”, and
equilibrium” is one of the “several genuine traits of modernity.”117
It is in such a context that a modern state project, which was initiated to make the
administration of the empire simpler, gave birth to many complications and paradoxes.
As I will explain throughout this dissertation, the Ottoman road reform generated its own
contradictions, conflicts, dilemmas, and ironies. Consequently Ottoman modernization
ended up as a continuous process; by generating its own problems, the construction of
roads had a destructive impact on the very logic of modernizing ideals and goals. I will
underline this aspect of the modern state formation in the Ottoman Empire with a special
focus on famine and highway robbery –as will be discussed in Chapter Five-Seven.
115 Henri Lefebvre, Introduction to Modernity: Twelve Preludes, September 1959 - May 1961, trans. John
Moore (London & New York: Verso, 1995), 168.
116 Ibid., 187.
117 Lefebvre, 191.
50
These two issues were made possible and reinforced by the construction of new roads,
thus undermining the modernization ethos of the Ottoman state.
In conclusion, the existing literature on Ottoman roads is limited by its statist,
elitist, and modernist viewpoint. Roads are perceived as a state initiative aimed at
development and modernization which, in turn, provided the Ottoman Empire with the
ability to join the world market. Disagreeing with this approach which ultimately
prioritizes external dynamics, this dissertation will highlight the social dynamism of the
empire by asking how this modernist state project was in practice in constant dialogue
with local and social demands. Thus, instead of attributing the construction of new roads
in the second half of the nineteenth century to an abstract notion of Ottoman modernity,
this dissertation will situate Ottoman modernization in a specific historical context, and
underline the local-social roots of the modern Ottoman state, thereby underlining its
dynamic, fragmented, and inconsistent characteristics.118
In this context, the study of roads is particularly important to develop a more
nuanced understanding of Ottoman modernization because roads are an icon of human
mobility. First and foremost, a focus on mobility can challenge Orientalist notions of
Middle Eastern and other “non-Western” societies as static and unchanging units that
needed the reform policies of Westernizing elites in order to catch up with their
contemporaries in Europe. By focusing on mobility, the history of roads can literally show
the dynamic nature of Ottoman society. Roads were home to a variety of imperial actors
from the Ottoman Empire as well as neighboring states. Moreover, the people who
118 For an elaborate critique of modernist history-writing see, Nadir Özbek, "Alternatif Tarih Tahayyülleri:
Siyaset, Ldeoloji ve Osmanlı-Türkiye Tarihi," Toplum ve Bilim, no. 98 (2003).
51
traveled throughout the empire were not limited to Iranian, Russian or European
merchants who had legal permission to travel, but also included migrants, nomadic tribes,
smugglers, and bandits who constantly crossed the borders between the Ottoman, Russian
and Qajar Empires. It is these groups which undermined the Ottoman state’s authority and
legitimacy due to their mobility. This dynamism differentiates roads from other modern
state institutions such as public schools, hospitals, prisons, orphanages or nursing homes
by highlighting a mobile society. In this respect, studying roads can allow historians to see
the complex nature of modernization, and to construct a dynamic and critical narrative of
modern state formation which did not necessarily follow a smooth and linear path
determined by the European experience. As Penelope Harvey points out:
Roads can invoke both the presence and the absence of the state. They are
concrete material entities that reveal multiple agencies, produced through
particular circumstances and relationships, and used and claimed in ways
that planners and politicians never envisaged. They are immobile material
entities yet they draw attention to mobility; they have fixed geographical
coordinates yet they extend beyond and exceed named places and thus have
an air of the translocal about them; they are the outcome of modern
technological practice yet people . . . talk of them in relation to the land and
alternative understandings of knowledge and power.119
Summary of Chapters:
Chapter One describes the organization of forced labor during the construction
and repair processes of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. The shortage of labor was one of the
major problems that authorities had to deal with regarding the public works projects
during the nineteenth century. Therefore, officials paid attention to keep forced laborers
119 Penelope Harvey, "The Materiality of State-Effects: An Ethnography of a Road in the Peruvian Andes,"
in State Formation: Anthropological Perspectives, ed. Christian Krohn-Hansen and Knut G. Nustad
(London & Ann Arbor: Pluto Press, 2005), 131.
52
healthy, while at the same time relying on the productive capacity of the general
population as well as that of migrant labor. The role that local notables played in the
organization of forced labor is also discussed in this chapter. Last but not least, this
chapter demonstrates how the attempt to replace forced labor by a monetized road tax in
1861 was a response to local demands rather than an initiative of the central government
to capitalize the taxation system and thus “modernize” the economy –as it is argued in the
secondary literature.
Chapter Two presents the financial problems that the Ottoman state faced during
the road’s renovation process. In the early stages, the Ottoman state was the sole sponsor
of the construction. Even though authorities did not have to pay too much money to road
workers thanks to the use of forced labor, the high stipends of the engineers and the
purchase of equipment from Europe made the project very costly. As the state also faced
difficulties in organizing forced labor, officials tried to gradually shift to a monetized
form of road taxation. Starting in the 1890s however, the local population found various
ways of resisting the payment of the tax. Hiring contractors and thereby privatizing the
repairs of the road was another method employed by the Ottoman state. However, the
insufficiency of contractors in terms of their number and inexperience as well as
corruption prevented this from becoming an efficient system. Finally, establishing coach
companies and defining road repairs as their responsibility was another policy which was
considered but never implemented in the nineteenth century.
Chapter Three focuses on the technological problems caused by the rough
topography and the harsh weather conditions of the area. In the early stages of the
construction, the inexperience of the engineers and other technical personnel prevented
53
them from understanding the geographical and climatic conditions of the region.
Therefore, in subsequent years, the road continuously suffered from floods, avalanches,
and other natural hazards. As a solution, engineers frequently wanted to change the route
of the road in order to avoid those sections which caused the most trouble. The need to
readjust the route contributed to the already high costs of the construction. One way of
tackling these technological and topographical problems was to widen the road, which
Ottoman authorities attempted on several occasions. However, this resulted in disputes
between property owners and the state which needed to confiscate land to widen the road.
Chapter Four highlights the regional significance of the road not only for
northeastern Anatolia but also for neighboring Transcaucasia and northern Iran. Erzurum
and Trabzon, two provinces which made up the Ottoman Northeast, were economically
tied to one another via the Trabzon-Bayezid road. While Trabzon needed the surplus
grain produced in Erzurum, Erzurum had to import timber and fresh produce such as
vegetables and fruit from Trabzon. Despite this economic dependency, the two provinces
were in constant conflict about different aspects of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. First,
governors of Erzurum thought that the road in Rize (and not the one in Trabzon) should
be renovated because the former connected their province to the Black Sea in a more
direct and shorter way. Paradoxically, the residents of Rize also supported this view, even
though Rize was administratively part of Trabzon province. Second, the Trabzon road
had a military significance for Erzurum which was the headquarters of the Ottoman
Fourth Army throughout most of the nineteenth century. By contrast, as a port city,
Trabzon considered the road as a commercial route and promoted the foundation of coach
companies in order to increase traffic. These companies would pose a significant threat
54
for Erzurum because privatization of transportation would be risky militarily, especially
in times of war. Last but not least, the road also played a transnational role as it was a
major link between northern Iran and Europe. Meanwhile, Russia was trying to sever this
connection by building new roads in Caucasia, which would attract the Iranian transit
trade to its own domains.
Chapter Five focuses on the political-economic role of the road, more specifically,
on Ottoman authorities’ goal to increase agricultural production and trade, and their
attempts to establish a unified market while facilitating the incorporation of the Ottoman
economy into global markets. This chapter argues that the Ottoman state both succeeded
and failed in these respects. There is some evidence to suggest that there was an increase
in the export of locally produced goods. However, this increase made the residents of the
region more vulnerable in cases of emergencies like famine. Ironically, while the
Ottoman state was unable to send food supplies back to the places which suffered from
famine, residents of these places were able to use the same road to escape hunger and
migrate to the other parts of the empire. Thus, the issue of famine and migration
demonstrate how the Ottoman road reform “backfired” in a local context, and how this
modernizing mission generated its own problems.
Chapters Six and Seven focus on highway robbery. Chapter Six covers the period
between 1850s and 1870s when travelling on the road was relatively safe. There is a gap
in archival sources related to banditry on the Trabzon-Bayezid road between 1870 and
1890. I explain this absence with the decline in the Iranian transit trade as a result of the
Russian competition and some other economic factors. Chapter Seven focuses on the
period between 1890s and 1910s when the road was subject to constant attacks. I explain
55
this increase in violence with the growth of local trade which replaced the transit trade by
the 1890s and the regional networks within which highway robbery functioned. Certain
groups among the highway robbers were byproducts of the Ottoman state’s
modernization policies; therefore, the issue of highway robbery was, in fact, intrinsic to
the process of modern state formation. Thus, this chapter claims that the modern state
created its own gravediggers. The overall goal of these two chapters is to underline how
the Ottoman state failed in its goal of increasing security in the region.
Finally, the Epilogue briefly discusses one major event, a demonstration held in
Erzurum in 1910 to protest the Ottoman state’s neglect of the roads in this province. I use
this social protest as a final step in the formation process of the modern Ottoman state.
Even though there is no record of who exactly the protestors were, this demonstration
shows that at least by this date, the locals were in favor of the construction of roads. This
is in stark contrast to generic assumptions that people often associate roads with higher
taxation and conscription, two icons of the modern state to be avoided. Thus, this protest
helps to “socialize” the formation process of the modern Ottoman state and see it as a
response to local demands rather than as a forceful imposition from the top down.
Sources:
This dissertation relies mostly on the central Ottoman state archives located in
Istanbul, Turkey. Even though these archival documents were written from the state’s
perspective, they provide ample information on not only technical details but also social
issues that arose during the construction and repair processes of the Trabzon-Bayezid
road. Second, accounts written by travelers, mostly Europeans, help to visualize the
56
experience of travelling on this road in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
Even though these accounts were written from an Orientalist perspective, they still
provide useful facts on local conditions. Especially, geography and climate had a great
impact on the construction and repair processes of the road; therefore, travelers’ accounts
are valuable to understand the technical difficulties that Ottoman authorities faced during
the renovation process.
Third, consular reports (along with documents from the Ottoman Foreign
Ministry) help to situate the road within a transnational context. Even though these
documents are limited by their Eurocentric perspective, they nevertheless help to balance
the dominance of Ottoman state archives in this dissertation. Some literary sources also
suggest the significance of the road not only for a diplomatic but also civilian
international audience. Finally, in order to narrate the history of the road from a localized
perspective, I used a variety of sources throughout this dissertation. It is for this reason
that, on several occasions, I direct readers to provincial yearbooks, the local newspaper
Trabzon, and an account written by the governor of Trabzon Sami Pasha in 1884.
57
CHAPTER I
LABORING THE ROAD:
FORCED LABOR AND THE LOCALISM OF THE MODERN STATE
The great civilizers of countries are road-makers.
C. MacFarlane, 18371
Introduction:
Starting in 1853, several regulations promulgated by the Ottoman government
required every male Ottoman subject to work in the construction of roads. Relying on the
general population for the construction of roads was not something new in the Ottoman
Empire. Prior to the nineteenth century, tımar-holders had constructed and maintained
roads until Sultan Mahmud II formally abolished the system in 1831.2 Accordingly,
certain villages and communities were given the responsibility of building and
maintaining roads as a collective duty. These villages and communities were exempt
from certain taxes in return for their service.3 In other words, the road tax system was
both a selective and collective practice in the pre-nineteenth century period.
1 Quoted from Peter Linebaugh, "'Going Upon the Accompt': Highway Robbery under the Reigns of the
Georges," in The London Hanged: Crime and Civil Society in the Eighteenth Century (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1992), 196.
2 Quataert, "The Age of Reforms, 1812-1914," 820-21; Duran, 484.
3 For a detailed discussion on the pre-nineteenth century period see Cengiz Orhonlu, Osmanlı
mparatorlugunda Derbend Teskilatı (Istanbul: Eren Yayıncılık ve Kitapçılık, 1990); Hanefi Bostan,
"Osmanlı Devleti'nde Yol ve Haberlesme Sistemi," Türk Dünyası Arastırmaları, no. 82 (1993); Yusuf
Halaçoglu, Osmanlılarda Ulasım ve Haberlesme (Menziller) (Ankara: PTT Genel Müdürlügü, 2002);
58
The nineteenth century witnessed a radical change in the application of the forced
labor system. Accordingly, the state individuated the process in the sense that not only
selected villages and communities but every male Ottoman subject between certain ages
was now responsible for the road-building projects. In other words, while the road tax
system lost its collective and selective character, it ironically gained a universal-equal
but also individual nature in the nineteenth century.
Hlkin and Tekeli explain the Ottoman state’s need for forced labor with the failure
of the previous experiences in road-building projects once the system was centralized
under Mahmud II’s rule. Mahmud II had built the first modern road as a postal route
between Istanbul and Hznik in 1834. By 1840 however, the road was already in ruins.4
Moreover, no other new roads were built both because of shortage of labor and lack of
experienced personnel. In this context, in 1849, Austen Henrya Layard, a British traveler,
related the deterioration of the roads to the centralization policies of Mahmud II:
Although an active and daily increasing trade is carried on by these roads,
no means whatever have until recently been taken to improve them. They
consist of mere mountain tracks, deep in mud or dust according to the
season of the year. The bridges, built when the erection and repair of public
works were imposed upon the local governors, and deemed a sacred duty
by the semi-independent hereditary families, who ruled in the provinces as
Pashas or Dere-Beys, have been long permitted to fall into decay, and
commerce is frequently stopped for days by the swollen torrent or fordless
stream. This has been one of the many evil results of the system of
centralization so vigorously commenced by Sultan Mahmoud, and so
steadily carried out during the present reign. The local governors, receiving
Hüdai M. Sentürk, "Osmanlılarda Haberlesme ve Menzil Teskilatına Genel Bir Bakıs," in Türkler, ed.
Hasan Celal Güzel, Kemal Çiçek, and Salim Koca (Ankara: Yeni Türkiye Yayınları, 2002).
4 Hlhan Tekeli and Selim Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda 19. Yüzyılın Hkinci Yarısında Nafıa Programları
ve Teknoloji Gelisimi Üzerine," in Cumhuriyetin Harcı: Modernitenin Altyapısı Olusurken (Hstanbul:
Hstanbul Bilgi Yayınları, 2004), 156; Tekeli and Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda
Araba Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 432-33.
59
a fixed salary, and rarely permitted to remain above a few months in one
office, take no interest whatever in the prosperity of the districts placed
under their care.5
Contrary to Layard’s observations, Ottomans were interested in reforming their
road network. In 1850, they started the construction of roads between Bursa and Gemlik
(34.5 kilometers / 21.4 miles), Bursa and Mudanya (34 kilometers / 21.1 miles), and
Trabzon and Erzurum (314 kilometers / 195 miles). The first two were completed in
1865, and the Trabzon-Erzurum road was ready in 1872.6 Given the lengthy construction
process, the Ottoman state decided to use forced labor in road-building projects.
Consequently, in 1853, the central government issued the General Directive for the
Construction and Administration of Roads and Bridges in the Ottoman Empire (Memaliki
Mahruse-i Sahanede Turuk-u Maabirin Suret-i mal ve daresine ait Talimat-ı
Umumiye). This directive authorized the government to use forced labor in the
construction of roads. Mithat Pasha made use of it when he was the governor of Aydın
province and ordered the construction of a road that connected Urla to the port in Izmir.
He also started the construction of the road from Old Foça to Menemen. The 1853
Directive was in effect for eight years, but its premises were not always put into practice.
For example, a French company attained a concession and built the 110 kilometer long
(68 miles) road between Beirut and Damascus in 1864 using private capital. The
5 Austen Henry Layard, Discoveries among the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon; with Travels in Armenia,
Kurdistan, and the Desert: Being the Result of a Second Expedition Undertaken for the Trustees of British
Museum (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1871), 4-5.
6 Tekeli and Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda 19. Yüzyılın Hkinci Yarısında Nafıa Programları ve
Teknoloji Gelisimi Üzerine," 156. For the completion of the Bursa-Gemlik road see, PMOA, I.DH 37728,
17 Cemaziyelahır 1282 (7 November 1865)
60
company also obtained the right to operate vehicles between these two cities after the
road’s construction was over.7
A new charter promulgated in 1861 was more nuanced and flexible than the 1853
Directive. The new charter allowed people to pay a certain amount of money in
compensation for not working in the construction of roads. According to the charter,
every male Ottoman subject between the ages of sixteen and sixty was liable to work in
road constructions and give his pack animals to the service of the state for twenty days
every five years. If not, he had to pay a certain amount of money.8
Religious and military officials, the gendarmeries, teachers, the sick and the
disabled were exempt from this obligation. Yet while teachers and religious officials
could be exempt from compulsory work in person, their pack animals were not. In other
words, even if they did not have to work in the construction of roads, they still had to
provide their pack animals to the service of the state. Merchants and other professionals
could substitute somebody for themselves if they were out of town for business purposes.
If it took more than twelve hours to travel from the place of residence to the construction
site, local officials could not force people to work without the permission of the Sublime
7 Ibid., 156-57; ———, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba Teknolojisinde ve
Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 433-34; Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde Karayolu Yapımı," 159;
Quataert, "The Age of Reforms, 1812-1914," 818. Although the 1853 Directive and the 1861 Road Charter
were passed only for certain pilot regions, Tozlu suggests that they were still important regulations for the
whole Ottoman Empire as for example the 1861 Charter was published in the Ottoman Law Books.
Selahattin Tozlu, Trabzon-Erzurum-Bayezid Yolu (1850-1900) (Unpublished Dissertation, Atatürk
University, 1997), 14.
8 Tekeli and Hlkin, "Türkiye'de Demiryolu Öncelikli Ulasım Politikasından Karayolları Öncelikli Ulasım
Politikasına Geçis," 374; ———, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba
Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 434-35; Duran, 485; Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde
Karayolu Yapımı," 156.
61
Port. Finally, provincial assemblies had the right to extend the number of liable days;
however, this could be no more then ten days in a total of five years.9
Later, in 1869, the state abolished the road tax due to the shortage of labor and
began to apply the forced labor system as the only method in road-building projects.
Therefore, every male Ottoman subject was once again liable to physically construct
roads. They had the right to find substitute workers (bedel-i sahsi) but not to pay the road
tax (bedel-i nakdi). In 1889, authorities once more provided their subjects with the option
to choose between these two alternatives: physical labor or taxation.10 Thus, rather than a
smooth transition from the use of forced labor system to a monetized form of road
taxation, the Ottoman state experimented with both techniques at different periods
throughout the nineteenth century.
Another attempt to change the way the state exploited and organized labor in the
context of road constructions came in 1882, during Hassan Fehmi Pasha’s office as the
Minister of Public Works. Hasan Fehmi Pasha prepared a plan titled “The Project for
Public Constructions in Anatolia” (Anadolu’da malat-ı Umumiyeye Dair Layıha), where
he suggested three possible methods to employ in road construction: as a state enterprise,
with the use of forced labor, or through foreign capital. His preference was for the third
9 Ibid.
10 Tozlu, Trabzon-Erzurum-Bayezid Yolu (1850-1900), 25; Ali Açıkel and Murat Hanilçe, "Sivas
Vilayetinde Ulasım (1867-1907)," in Ciepo Uluslararası Osmanlı Öncesi ve Osmanlı Tarihi Arastırmaları
6. Ara Dönem Sempozyum Bildirileri, ed. Adnan Sisman, Tuncer Baykara, and Mehmet Karayaman (Usak:
Usak Hli Kalkınma Vakfı, 2011), 86. For further information on Ottoman road regulations in the nineteenth
century, see Selahattin Tozlu, "Osmanlı Yol Düzenlemeleri (1839-1908)," in Osmanlı, ed. Güler Eren
(Ankara: Yeni Türkiye Yayınları, 1999). Specifically for forced labor, see Resul Akgül, Yol Mükellefiyeti
Kanunları ve Uygulamaları (Unpublished Thesis, Mersin Üniversitesi, 2001).
62
alternative.11 What is interesting is the way Hassan Fehmi Pasha justified his advocacy of
foreign capital: He argued that capital had no nationality. He also defined the notions of
“public” and “private” and suggested that reliance on private capital in road constructions
served public interests because roads facilitated agricultural production and commerce.12
In the same program, Hassan Fehmi Pasha also proposed to build a total of 2,535
kilometers (1,575 miles) of roads in different parts of the empire. As a result of this
program, roads which spanned nine hundred kilometers (560 miles) in 1881 were
extended to 10,400 kilometers (6,462 miles) in 1888, 13,800 kilometers (8,574 miles) in
1898, and 17,400 kilometers (10,811 miles) in 1908. Authorities did not implement the
program as a whole as they built only a portion of the proposed roads. Moreover, they
used forced labor rather than foreign capital.13 By 1889, there were a total of 3,480,000
Ottoman subjects who were liable for forced labor.14 In the same year that the Project for
Public Constructions in Anatolia (1882) was drafted, officials also revised the regulation
of forced labor once again. Consequently, the minimum age to work in the construction
of roads went up from sixteen to twenty.15
11 Hayri Mutluçag, "Yakın Tarihimizde Hlk Sosyal, Hktisadi ve Teknik Kalkınma Planı I," Belgelerle Türk
Tarihi Dergisi, no. 19 (1969): 9; Tekeli and Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda 19. Yüzyılın Hkinci
Yarısında Nafıa Programları ve Teknoloji Gelisimi Üzerine," 155, 58.
12 Hayri Mutluçag, "Yakın Tarihimizde Hlk Sosyal, Hktisadi ve Teknik Kalkınma Planı VI," Belgelerle Türk
Tarihi Dergisi, no. 24 (1969): 16, 19.
13 Tekeli and Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda 19. Yüzyılın Hkinci Yarısında Nafıa Programları ve
Teknoloji Gelisimi Üzerine," 157-59.
14 ———, "1908 Tarihli "Umur-u Nafia Programı"nın Anlamı Üzerine," 182.
15 ———, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu
Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 437.
63
Finally, we know from a memorandum prepared on December 1st 1908 during
Gabriel Norandunkyan’s term as the Minister of Commerce and Public Works that forced
labor was to a great extent dysfunctional by this date. Most of the men who were liable
for work in the construction of roads preferred to pay their exemption fee instead of
working physically. Only 10-12 percent of the total road tax was “paid” in terms of real
physical labor.16 The state acquired the rest as cash. The same memorandum also
recommended tripling the road tax.17 As this measure was not enough to further promote
road constructions, authorities put into operation a new method only a year later in 1909.
Accordingly, the Ottoman government signed a treaty with the French and borrowed two
million gold Francs to use for roads. At the same time, the government also gave a
concession to the Régie Générale Company in order to repair and construct a road
network of 435 kilometers (270 miles) in Thrace and 7,635 kilometers (4,744 miles) in
Anatolia.18
1909 witnessed two other important changes regarding the use of forced labor in
road constructions. Authorities abolished the obligation to offer pack animals to the
service of the state and made the per capita amount of road tax consistent with the level
of development of each province. In addition to this, from this date on, residents of
16 ———, "1908 Tarihli "Umur-u Nafia Programı"nın Anlamı Üzerine," 183; ———, "Osmanlı
Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler,"
438.
17 Tekeli and Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda 19. Yüzyılın Hkinci Yarısında Nafıa Programları ve
Teknoloji Gelisimi Üzerine," 159.
18 Ibid.; ———, "Türkiye'de Demiryolu Öncelikli Ulasım Politikasından Karayolları Öncelikli Ulasım
Politikasına Geçis," 377; ———, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba
Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 439; Mukbil Gökdogan, Strassenbau und
Verkehrspolitik in der Türkei: Eine Studie über den Strassenbau der Alten und Neuen Türkei mit einem
Neuen Strassennetz (Rotwell: Wohnlich & Wagner), 38.
64
Istanbul were also liable subjects; only the residents of Basra, Baghdad, Hejaz, Tripoli,
and Yemen provinces and the sub-province of Benghazi (in other words, provinces in the
Arabian Peninsula and northern Africa) were exempt from forced labor.19
At this point, we should remember that this overview on the use of forced labor in
road construction presents only the state’s perspective. In the following pages, I will
show how the experience of Ottoman subjects defined and shaped these policies in the
context of the 1861 Road Charter. Before that however, it is necessary to analyze
scholars’ views on the state’s organization of labor in road-building projects. These views
predominantly revolve around a discussion of the modernization paradigm. Tekeli and
Hlkin, for instance, define the existence of forced labor as a feudal artifact. They use the
word corvée (angarya) in order to identify the people whom the state recruited for work
in road constructions. According to Tekeli and Hlkin, this form of labor regulation was a
reflection of the feudal/pre-industrial economic structure of the Ottoman Empire.20
In a similar fashion, Tekeli and Hlkin see the later reliance on the road tax –as
opposed to forced labor- as a sign of the capitalization of the Ottoman economy. In
addition to the conclusion they reach with regard to capitalization, a second proof of the
authors’ conceptualization of forced labor within a modernization theory framework is
their classification of the monetization of the road tax as a symbol of increasing
19 Duran, 485-86.
20 Tekeli and Hlkin, "Türkiye'de Demiryolu Öncelikli Ulasım Politikasından Karayolları Öncelikli Ulasım
Politikasına Geçis," 375; ———, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba
Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 435.
65
individual freedom.21 Tekeli and Hlkin suggest that monetization allowed the subjects of
the empire to choose between two alternatives: being forced to work in road
constructions or paying the road tax. Thus, they interpret the transition from “feudalism”
to “capitalism” as a progress for the individual in general, without paying attention to
how class differences might have affected peoples’ ability to pay the road tax.
Moreover, Tekeli and Hlkin’s analysis associates capitalist development with free
wage labor. Thus, this analysis supports the grand narrative of modernization which tells
the story of a linear and progressive evolution of capitalist relations that gradually
emancipated people from “feudal relics” such as forced labor. Horatio Southgate, a
member of the Foreign Committee of the Board of Missions of the Protestant Episcopal
Church in the United States of America, who travelled between Trabzon and Tabriz
during 1837-1838, represents one of the earliest -and Orientalist- examples of associating
forced labor with “underdevelopment”, not surprisingly a common characteristics of the
“Eastern” lands according to Southgate. When he came across a group of peasants who
were forced to transport guns between Cevizlik (modern-day Maçka) and Kara Kaban on
the Trabzon-Erzurum road, Southgate wrote the following:
In this simple incident the observer may trace the radical error of Eastern
reform. It is of a factitious and unnatural growth, . . . . In Turkey, and still
more in Egypt, the object in view has been military strength, while the only
sure grounds on which such strength can rest were overlooked. It was
forgotten, or rather it was the last thought to enter the mind of an Eastern
ruler, that there can be no true elevation unless the people are elevated, and
that there is no foundation for national power of any kind, while individual
industry is repressed by innumerable discouragements, the sources of
production are withered by oppression and misrule. Compelled, by the
necessity of their position, to gather around them a large military force,
21 Tekeli and Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Ondokuzuncu Yüzyılda Araba Teknolojisinde ve Karayolu
Yapımındaki Gelismeler," 437.
66
Mohammed Ali and Mahmoud II aimed at the effects before they had the
rudiments of European civilization; and hence it is that one sees the
implements of war dragged over a country without roads, by peasants
violently impressed, who are thus taught to hate improvement by the new
hardships which it brings.22
Recently, scholars have challenged the “optimistic” view which identifies forced
labor with feudalism and wage labor with capitalism, thus assuming the possibility of a
natural transition or evolution from one to the other. The survival of old and the
emergence of new forms of un-free labor in the age of capitalism (including the ‘First
World’) generated questions about the ‘free’ nature of capitalism. As a result, un-free
labor forms began to be considered not as an obstacle to capitalism but as one of its main
components.23 In Egypt for example, Mikhail observes that “at the beginning of the
nineteenth century, corvée became more and more common as a labor practice because
repair works generally became larger and more complex.”24
At this point, one may go one step further and question the very dichotomy of free
vs. un-free labor –in addition to accepting the embeddedness of both forms of labor in a
capitalist mode of production. The problem is that once this distinction is made, the “freeness”
of free labor is automatically taken for granted. As Banaji clearly demonstrates,
“the critique of unfree labor is secured at a price, namely, endorsing the liberal
22 Horatio Southgate, Narrative of a Tour through Armenia, Kurdistan, Persia, and Mesopotamia with
Observations on the Condition of Mohammedanism and Christianity in Those Countries, vol. 1 (London &
New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1840), 154-55.
23 For a further discussion on this issue see, Immanuel Wallerstein, "American Slavery and the Capitalist
World-Economy," American Journal of Sociology 81, no. 5 (1976); Tom Brass, Towards a Comparative
Political Economy of Unfree Labour: Case Studies and Debates (London: Frank Cass, 1999); Philip
Corrigan, "Feudal Relics or Capitalist Monuments? Notes on the Sociology of Unfree Labour," Sociology
11, no. 3 (1977); Tom Brass, "Why Unfree Labour Is Not 'So-Called': The Fictions of Jairus Banaji,"
Journal of Peasant Studies 31, no. 1 (2003).
24 Mikhail, 183.
67
mystification of a ‘free’ bargain. . . . a rigid dichotomy between free and unfree labor,
suggesting that lack of coercion is a defining feature of wage-labor.”25 Therefore, “once
we recognize that capitalist development does not necessitate ‘free labor’ we can also
investigate the ways in which capitalists can deploy legal frameworks of un-freedom to
subordinate labor and how, in certain contexts, these legal foundations provide capitalists
with solutions to problems of labor discipline otherwise not available.”26
In this context, this dissertation will present the Ottoman Empire’s use of forced
labor in road-building projects during the nineteenth century not as a remnant from a
traditional past or feudal economy but as a strategy used by a flexible empire which
experimented with many different methods of road construction –ranging from the use of
forced labor to hiring contractors. In other words, forced labor was one of the means by
which the Ottoman state exploited the labor of its subjects in order to reform its road
network and not a symbol of a “past” that they wanted to escape. As will be discussed in
the following pages, the change from forced labor to monetary taxation was a response
by the Istanbul government to a local demand rather than a “modernizing” effect of the
Ottoman central state. Moreover, this change was a gradual process during which the
Ottoman state switched from compulsory labor to a monetized form of the road tax and
vice versa several times during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
25 Jairus Banaji, "The Fictions of Free Labour: Contract, Coercion, and So-Called Unfree Labour,"
Historical Materialism 11, no. 3 (2003): 78, 87.
26 Marc W. Steinberg, "Capitalist Development, the Labor Process, and the Law," American Journal of
Sociology, no. 109 (2003): 446.
68
Based on this discussion of the use of forced labor, the next section will discuss
how the Ottoman state tried to deal with the shortage of labor during the construction
process of the Trabzon-Bayezid road in order to decrease its reliance on forced labor.
Labor Shortage, Health and Happiness of Workers, and Migrant Labor
When Istanbul government started considering the repair of the Trabzon-Erzurum
road in 1847, authorities initially planned to use wage labor instead of forced labor. At
that time, the daily wage of a hired laborer was 90-100 para27 in Trabzon and Erzurum
provinces and the price to lease a cart was 5-6 piasters (kurus). Since the construction of
the road would take at least two years, the Governor of Trabzon Abdullah Pasha hoped to
bargain and reduce these amounts to 70-80 para and 4.5 piasters respectively. He also
suggested adopting the European practice of employing a regiment of infantry soldiers to
free the people from the burden of forced labor. This way, the subjects of the Empire
would not have to postpone their own work in favor of road construction.28
After these initial considerations, the Ottoman state finally started repairing the
Trabzon-Erzurum road in 1850. Both the central and the provincial governments were
designated as partners responsible for this important task. On July 17th 1850, the Privy
Council (Meclis-i Mahsus) in Istanbul appointed the officials who would be in charge of
the construction, and they soon left for Trabzon. Among these officials were the Minister
of Commerce Ismail Pasha and a group of engineers. The Imperial Arsenal (Tophane-i
Amire) was responsible for providing the minister with the equipment necessary for the
27 One piaster equaled forty para.
28 PMOA, A.MKT 92/7, 19 Saban 1263 (2 August 1847)
69
road’s construction before his departure from Istanbul. If the arsenal was unable to
prepare all the equipment until that date, it would send the rest of the tools later.29
Among other officials selected by the Privy Council were four doctors, four
surgeons, and four pharmacists who were responsible for the healthcare of the road
workers. All these medical officials were entitled to a travel allowance. For doctors, this
amount was equal to one month’s salary, and for the rest it was 140 liras in total.30
Additionally, the pharmaceuticals that the doctors needed cost 427 liras.31 Finally,
Istanbul government also spent 432 liras for tents to protect the workers on chilly
nights.32
In his memoirs on travelling from Hasankale to Trabzon in 1850-1851, British
naval commander Frederick Walpole notes the Ottoman state’s concern for the healthcare
of the road workers. According to Walpole, the workers spent the night in green tents
provided by the government. Walpole also mentions the presence of doctors in this early
stage of the renovation: “doctors were there to attend the sick and hurt. Many were
wounded by their ignorance or awkwardness; for mines were sprung here and there
without any warnings or precautions.” There were approximately two thousand workers
under the service of the Ottoman state, including German blasters, German engineers,
29 PMOA, A.AMD 19/48, 8 Ramazan 1266 (18 July 1850)
30 PMOA, A.AMD 19/86, 10 Sevval 1266 (19 August 1850); PMOA, I.DH 219/12891, 10 Sevval 1266 (19
August 1850). 1 lira (100 piasters) equaled 5 US Dollars, 25 French Francs, 20 German Marks, and 0.9
Sterling. See Sevket Pamuk, A Monetary History of the Ottoman Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2000).
31 PMOA, C.NF 2365, 7 Zilhicce 1266 (14 October 1850)
32 PMOA, MVL 327/22, 23 Zilhicce 1266 (30 October 1850)
70
and Albanian and Rumanian workers. German blasters received seven piasters per day
whereas the daily wage of the Albanians and Rumanians was only four piasters.33
W. Gifford Palgrave, the British consul to Trabzon, also attests to the dangerous
working conditions under which the forced laborers worked:
A third, and a most injudicious tax, of the same description is forced labor.
For every ill-planned road commenced, but never to be completed, for
every public work, often misdevised and unconnected with any real local
interest, this requisition is made on the over-charged and failing peasantry.
Nor is the labor only unpaid, but even the miserable pittance of bread
supplied, nor that always, by Government to the laborers, is barely
sufficient to keep body and soul together, much less to fit men for hard
work. Sickness, and even death are the not unfrequent consequences. The
peasants are, moreover, often compelled to journey two, three, and even
more days’ distance from their villages to muster on the scene of labor; and
thus, not five days only, as in the official programs, but eight, ten, and even
a fortnight of field-work is lost. That work executed under such
circumstances is badly done, stands to reason.34
Archives, however, are home only to one document which relates to a worker who
was injured during the road’s construction in Gümüshane.35 After an explosion, a piece of
a stone hit Hristooglu Todori, a foreman of stonemasons (tasçı ustabası), in the eye and
caused him to go partially blind. Since he was unfit to work after the accident, Todori
wrote a petition to Gümüshane sub-province and asked for compensation. The Council of
State (Sura-yı Devlet) decided to give Todori a stipend of thirty piasters. The Council
33 Frederick Walpole, The Ansayrii and the Assassins, with Travels in the Further East, in 1850-51;
Including a Visit to Nineveh, vol. 2 (London: Richard Bentley, 1851), 221-23.
34 “Report on the Provinces of Trebizond, Sivas, Kastemouni, and Part of Angora, by Mr. Consul W.
Gifford Palgrave” in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls
During the Year 1868, August to December, London, February 1869, p. 379-380
35 Similarly, there is no archival mention of worker deaths or injuries that took place during the
construction of the Mahmudiyya Canal in Egpyt even though Mikhail suggests that “we can assume with
near certainty (on the basis of similar cases) that some of the more than thirty-three thousand men in this
case sustained injuries or died during the work.” Mikhail, 195.
71
also concluded that it was appropriate to give compensation to the family members of any
workers who died while working under the auspices of the state (miri islerinde).36 As will
be discussed further below, the daily wage of an unskilled worker at that time was five
piasters which was barely enough to survive. In this context, it is noteworthy that
Todori’s disability pension was even lower than this amount (approximately one piaster
per day).
From a state-centric point of view, governmental concerns on worker’s health can
be used as evidence of the Ottoman state’s benevolence. More importantly however, if
we place authorities’ concern for public health in a social context, it becomes easier to
see that this was more a strategy to find sufficient and efficient workforce for the
construction of the road than the goodwill of the ruling elite. Accordingly, in subsequent
years, the lack of sufficient labor would be one of the major problems that the Ottoman
state had to face. For example in December 1861, in the midst of intensive construction
throughout the empire -in Edirne, Thessaloniki, Trabzon, and Hüdavendigar provinces
and Canik and Kastamonu districts-, the Grand Council (Meclis-i Vala) considered
drafting soldiers to work in road-building projects.37 Similarly during World War I, the
provincial government of Trabzon employed male refugees between the ages of ten and
sixty as forced labor in road-building projects.38
In this context, guaranteeing the good health of the workers –who were a scarce
resource- was one of the major concerns of Istanbul. Indeed, the prosperity and well-
36 PMOA, SD 1829/31, 23 Cemaziyülâhır 1293 (16 July 1876).
37 PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 383/48, 5 Cemaziyülahır 1278 (8 December 1861)
38 PMOA, DH.SFR 76/243-92, 9 Saban 1335 (31 May 1917)
72
being of the population in general can be considered as one of the trademarks of modern
state formation. Accordingly, the ultimate goal of modern forms of governing was to
enhance the productive capacity of the greatest number. In other words, the Ottoman state
was actually following the principles of “bio-politics”. As Dean observes, “all ‘modern’
forms of the government of the state need to be understood as attempting to articulate a
bio-politics aimed at enhancing the lives of a population.”39 Dean continues:
Bio-politics is a politics concerning the administration of life, particularly
as it appears at the level of populations. . . . It is concerned with matters of
life and death, with birth and propagation, with health and illness, both
physical and mental, and with the processes that sustain or retard the
optimization of the life of a population. Bio-politics must then also concern
the social, cultural, environmental, economic and geographic conditions
under which humans live, procreate, become ill, maintain health or become
healthy, and die. From this perspective bio-politics is concerned with the
family, with housing, living and working conditions, with what we call
‘lifestyle’, with public health issues, patterns of migration, levels of
economic growth and the standards of living.40
Ottoman authorities’ concern about the health and well-being of the workers
continued in the following years. In 1865, the Trabzon-Erzurum Road Commission
decided to employ a physician, a surgeon and a pharmacist who would be at the
construction site at all times in order to treat the workers immediately. One option was to
employ the graduates of the imperial medical school, but their number was not sufficient
enough and the graduates were already appointed to other positions. A second option was
39 Mitchell Dean, Governmentality: Power and Rule in Modern Society, Second ed. (London: Sage
Publications, 2010), 121.
40 Ibid., 118. For further information on bio-politics see Michel Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures
at the Collège De France, 1978-79, ed. Michel Senellart, trans. Graham Burchell (Basingstoke & New
York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008); ———, Security, Territory, Population: Lectures at the Collège De
France, 1977-78, ed. Michel Senellart, François Ewald, and Alessandro Fontana, trans. Graham Burchell
(Basingstoke & New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007); ———, Society Must Be Defended: Lectures at
the Collège De France, 1975-76, ed. Mauro Bertani, Alessandro Fontana, and François Ewald, trans. David
Macey, First ed. (New York: Picador, 2003).
73
to hire military doctors from the Fourth Army. However, the Fourth Army initially
responded that they did not have enough doctors to appoint for the construction of the
Trabzon-Erzurum road.41
Later, Major Doctor (Binbası Tabib) Rauf Effendi from the Second Regiment
volunteered for the position. Brigadier General (Mirliva) Feyzi Pasha, the commander of
the Fourth Army, wrote that Rauf Effendi was not only an experienced doctor but that he
was also fluent in French. This must have been an important criterion given the fact that a
French engineer was in charge of the construction at the time. According to Feyzi Pasha,
a seven lira raise in Rauf Effendi’s stipend was appropriate. Moreover, a certain Celil
Effendi could be employed as the surgeon of the Trabzon Road Commission.42
Meanwhile, the employment of the French doctor Fortan who had previously
worked on the ships of the Imperial French Company Messageries for a yearly stipend of
320 liras (8,000 Francs) was also considered as a possibility. This foreign competition
was part of the reason for the Fourth Army’s change of mind. As one official explicitly
articulated, there was concern among some of the civil servants about Istanbul’s interest
in a foreign doctor. In the end, Fortan was officially employed as the doctor for the
Trabzon Road Commission. Since he was able to fulfill all three requirements –those of a
physician, a surgeon and a pharmacist- at the same time, employing him was the most
economic option. If the commission had employed a physician, a surgeon and a
pharmacist separately, it would have to pay a total of 46 liras -20 for the physician, 8 for
the surgeon, 6 for the pharmacist and 12 for a raise in these medical officials’ stipends as
41 PMOA, I.MVL 545/24493, 12 Saban 1282 (31 December 1865)
42 Ibid.
74
part of their new appointment. By contrast, the stipend given to Fortan was only 30 liras
in total.43 Thus, financial priorities overpowered “nationalist” concerns when in the end
the French doctor was employed.
In addition to employing doctors, the Ottoman state also tried to provide shelter
for the road workers. For example, in 1892, most of the laborers in the construction near
Trabzon got sick because they slept out in the open.44 In order to avoid further health
problems, Istanbul government ordered the Fourth Army to send 100 tents to the
construction site45 and gave the military authorities 280 liras for this purpose. However,
the Fourth Army did not follow this order because there was no precedent of providing
forced laborers with tents which actually belonged to the Ottoman military.46
As an alternative, the Fourth Army proposed that tents should be manufactured in
Trabzon specifically for this purpose, but there was a problem: by the time the tents
would be ready, the construction season would have already passed. Therefore, Trabzon’s
Governor Kadri Bey insisted that the tents be immediately delivered by the military to the
construction site. Kadri Bey reminded his colleagues of how in the initial stages of the
road’s construction back in 1850 the central government provided tents for free. Now in
1892, the repair of the road was partially financed by the road tax collected from the
people, but the state refused to use this money –which was approximately 400-500 liras
43 Ibid.
44 PMOA, BEO 44/3294, 11 Muharrem 1310 (5 August 1892)
45 PMOA, BEO 297/22230, 9 Rebiyülâhır 1311 (20 October 1893)
46 PMOA, SD 1196/7, 10 Muharrem 1310 (4 August 1892)
75
per year- for the protection of forced laborers, which, according to Kadri Bey, was
unacceptable.47
The Ministry of Commerce and Public Works responded negatively to the
governor’s demand. Istanbul government had given free tents to the forced laborers in the
early stages of the construction for a different reason. Back then, the local residents were
not used to the idea of forced labor; so this decision was only a gesture to encourage
people to work for free. However, as the commander of the Fourth Army rightly argued,
there had been no record of free tent distribution to the forced laborers for the last 10-15
years. Kadri Bey’s response to this observation was clear: the Trabzon-Erzurum road was
no ordinary road where workers could find shelter in nearby khans and villages. Since the
road was far from residential areas, workers had absolutely no shelter at night.48 Yet in
the end, the Fourth Army prevailed and the governor’s request was denied.49
In addition to developing public health policies, Ottoman authorities also took
other measures to deal with labor shortage. For example, some Albanian workers who
were at the time in Bursa were sent to Trabzon in 1848.50 The Albanians were most likely
there to build the Bursa-Gemlik road whose construction had officially started in 1845;
but by 1850, there had not been much progress.51 The Ottoman state also resorted to the
employment of some Croatian workers and transferred them to Trabzon on several
47 Ibid.
48 Ibid.
49 PMOA, BEO.AYN.d 1679, 4 Cemaziyülahır 1311 (13 December 1893)
50 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 3/99, 5 Cemaziyülevvel 1264 (9 April 1848)
51 Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde Türkiye'de Yönetim," 625.
76
occasions.52 The archival records are not clear about the number of these Albanian and
Croatian workers or why the state decided to transfer the Albanians to Trabzon while the
construction in Bursa was ongoing. One likely explanation is that since the Trabzon-
Erzurum road (314 kilometers / 195 miles53) was almost ten times longer than the Bursa-
Gemlik road (34.5 kilometers / 21.4 miles),54 authorities might have decided that the
Albanians were more needed in Trabzon.
Even though archival sources are not clear as to why the state specifically
employed Albanians or Croatians, their skilled labor was most likely considered an
asset.55 As I will explain below, the construction process of the Trabzon-Erzurum road
was characterized by delays and breaks, and officials put most of the blame on the low
quality of the work performed by unskilled forced labor. In fact, to make up for this low
performance, sending skilled laborers from one location to another within the imperial
territories had been a common practice throughout the centuries. For example,
Gümüshane had supplied the main labor force for the operation of Ottoman mines prior
52 PMOA, I.MVL 251/9199, 18 Muharrem 1269 (1 November 1852)
53 Throughout the rest of this dissertation, the conversions in units of measure and currency will sometimes
reflect only the approximate equivalents in order to abbreviate the digits.
54 Tekeli and Hlkin, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda 19. Yüzyılın Hkinci Yarısında Nafıa Programları ve
Teknoloji Gelisimi Üzerine," 156.
55 Even today, the modern Turkish word for cobblestone pavement is “Arnavut kaldırımı” which translates
“Albanian pavement”.
77
to the nineteenth century.56 Therefore, it is likely that the presence of Albanian and
Croatian road workers in Trabzon was the result of a similar chain migration.57
The third means through which the Ottomans tried to compensate the
insufficiency of the labor force was to rely on the “productive forces” of the general
population. In the initial phase of the road’s construction process, officials relied on the
assumption that the dwellers of Trabzon-Erzurum region would be willing to contribute
to the road’s construction since this route would presumably revitalize trade and
agriculture. In turn, it was expected that these “grateful” locals would complete the
construction with no objection and within a short time.58 In this context, Istanbul
government considered the construction of the road as a graceful act that guaranteed the
“happiness” of Trabzon dwellers in particular and of the merchants and the subjects of
the region in general (ol havalide bulunan tüccar ve tebaanın ve hususuyla Trabzon
ahalisinin kemal-i tezayüt-ü saadet-i hallerini müstelzim bir inayet ve merhamet).
Therefore, according to the authorities, its construction required the cooperative effort of
the whole populace (ba suhule istikmal-i vesail-i hüsn-ü tesviyesi emrinde cümle
tarafından sarf-ı mesai ve gayret olunması müstelzim olup).59
56 Hamilton, 234.
57 For other examples of chain migration, see Cengiz Kırlı, "A Profile of the Labor Force in Early
Nineteenth-Century Istanbul," International Labor and Working Class History, no. 60 (2001); Betül
Basaran, Remaking the Gate of Felicity: Policing, Social Control, and Migration in Istanbul at the End of
the Eighteenth Century, 1789-1793 (Unpublished Dissertation, University of Chicago, 2006).
58 PMOA, A.AMD 24/17, no specific date
59 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 24/71, 29 Zilkade 1266 (6 October 1850)
78
The use of such a language resembles the Foucauldian discourse on how modern
states care for the “happiness” of their population because of their productive capacity.60
As Dean observes, “rather than replacing discipline or sovereignty, the modern art of
government recasts them within this concern for the population and its optimization (in
terms of wealth, health, happiness, prosperity, efficiency), and the forms of knowledge
and technical means appropriate to it.”61 In this framework, Ottoman authorities
presented road-building as a state service for the welfare of their subjects while
exploiting their labor for free as forced labor.
The Ottoman state’s dependency on the cooperation of its subjects to guarantee
the use of forced labor continued to be reflected through a propagandist discourse in the
following years. In 1875, an Ottoman bureaucrat argued that previously Ottoman subjects
did not appreciate the significance of roads (evailde tevsi-i turuk hususunun ehemmiyet ve
faidesi halkça tefehhüm ve takdir olunamadıgından); but that they had become aware of
roads’ benefits by 1875 (elyevm yolların menfaati hemen her tarafça anlasılmıs).
Therefore, the lack of interest in road-building projects could emanate only from
“laziness” and “negligence” (yol yapmakta teehhür vuku tekâsül ve ihmalden baska bir
seye mahmul olamayacagından).62 Similarly, in 1884, Sırrı Pasha, the former governor of
Trabzon, wrote: “Our people have for long understood that wealth and development will
come to the country only by means of roads; therefore, people have started saying: we are
60 For further discussion see Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (New York:
Vintage, 1977); Dean, Governmentality.
61 Dean, Governmentality, 30.
62 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 478/69, 4 Recep 1292 (6 August 1875)
79
content working for free as long as the roads that the country desperately needs will be
constructed.”63
Another example of such language comes from the local newspaper Trabzon. In
1898, the village roads in Trabzon were damaged because of the unusually heavy rains
which reached record levels. Even though forced labor was not required of villagers in
the construction and repair of village roads, the newspaper claimed that the people would
like to serve the state voluntarily: “Naturally, villagers will not avoid working for free
when they know that it is going to benefit them”.64 As a further incentive, the newspaper
also announced that in their next issue they would list the names of the villages that
would complete repairing their road earlier than other villages.
As these examples show, securing the health and happiness of the forced laborers
and reinforcing their performance with skilled migrant labor from other parts of the
empire were the main tools used by the Ottoman state to balance the shortage of labor.
While these may be considered as major steps in the process of modern state formation
within a Foucaldian framework, as I will discuss below, local populations’ reactions to
these policies also shaped the central state’s agenda. But first, the next section will
present a short discussion on the use of forced labor during the construction process of
the Trabzon-Erzurum road between 1857 and 1871.
63 “Hem de halkımız memlekete servet ve mamuriyetin ancak yol ile girebilecegini çoktan anlamıs
binaenaleyh “hemen lazım olan yollar yapılsın da biz meccanen islemeye razıyız” demeye baslamıstır.”
Sırrı Pasa, Asar-ı Hame-i Sırrı Pasa, Trabzon: Trabzon Vilayet Matbaası, 1301 (1884).
64 “Ahali-i köy kendi selamet ve menfaatlerine yarayacak böyle bir hizmetten de elbette kaçınamazlar.”
Trabzon, No: 1296, 20 Sevval 1315 / 1 Mart 1314 (14 March 1898), p. 1
80
Organization of Labor during the Construction:
After the initial efforts to construct the road near Trabzon failed in 1850 because
of harsh weather conditions, work on the Trabzon-Erzurum road finally started in 1857.
This time construction started from the other end of the road, which was situated between
Erzurum and Bayburt and took about twenty-four hours to travel. By April 1858, workers
finished the construction of almost one third of this section which stretched between
Erzurum and Kösepınar and took nine hours to travel. Bayburt’s economy relied to a
great extent on the trade with Russia and Iran and Russian and Iranian merchants used the
Trabzon-Erzurum road frequently. Therefore Bayburt contributed to forced labor
practices by providing three thousand workers who built this section of the road based on
a rotation system (münavebeten).65
Throughout the rest of 1858, construction continued in another section of the road,
at a travel distance of eleven hours. This section consisted of two parts which stretched
between Bayburt and Massad Khan (six hours travel distance) and between Massad Khan
and Zazalar Khan (five hours travel distance). Mehmet Bey, from a prominent dynastic
family (hanedan) in the region, took the responsibility of constructing the former and
Emin Bey from the same family built the latter. Under their authority, one hundred and
fifty workers finished building the road on a rotation system in sixty-five days. Similarly,
Kapıcıbası Assad Agha from Ispir built the section between Zazalar Khan and Kösepınar.
He levied two hundred people and had them work for forty days on a rotation system.
65 PMOA, A.AMD 82/58, 25 Saban 1274 (10 April 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 256/21 4 Sevval 1274 (18
May 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 102/1, 1 Rebiyülevvel 1275 (9 October 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.UM
336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
81
Since these people were from distant villages, Assad Agha provided them with free bread
on a daily basis.66
Finally, Osman Bey from Erzurum recruited two hundred people from the villages
on Erzurum Plain in order to finish the construction of the rest of the road from
Kösepınar to Erzurum. Since these men lived close to the road, Osman Bey did not grant
them free bread. On the contrary, the workers themselves had to care for their
nourishment. The local notables Mehmet Bey, Emin Bey, Assad Agha, and Osman Bey
received a golden watch and a letter of commendation (iltifatname) as presents for their
commitment to the Trabzon-Erzurum road project. Additionally, Osman Bey obtained a
sword. In return for their service, the local people received a small piece of paper proving
how many days they worked as forced labor.67 The following map displays the route of
the road during this stage of the construction and provides useful information regarding
many place names:
66 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
67 Ibid.
82
83
84
Figure I: Map of the Trabzon-Erzurum Road, PMOA, HRT.h 1602
Local notables continued to be part of the construction process in the years to
come. Two years after the road was completely ready in 1871, Satırzade Vahit Bey from
Trabzon was still sending petitions to Istanbul and asking the government to
acknowledge his contribution to the construction of the Erzurum road. Istanbul
government’s response to such demands was often positive in the hopes of encouraging
85
other local notables to contribute to the public works budget.68 Needless to say, local
notables did not invest in public works for philanthropic reasons. As Meeker points out,
dynastic families like the Satıroglus had a stake in the prosperity of Trabzon unlike their
rivals in the neighboring coastal cities like Rize and Sürmene.69
By the end of 1858, authorities wanted to start repairing the road in Trabzon as
well. Before construction started on the Zigana road, some officials suggested that the
state should give free bread to only those workers living at least eight-ten hours away
from the road. This was the practice during the construction of the Erzurum-Bayburt
section. However, unlike Erzurum, most of the villages in Trabzon province were
mountainous and therefore agriculturally not very productive. Hence, most of the
villagers were not self-sufficient and needed to buy their basic food supplies from other
provinces. Given these facts, authorities rejected the proposal and decided to distribute
free bread to all forced laborers.70 What is noteworthy in this case is the attention that
Ottoman officials paid to local circumstances while developing public works policies and
how they adapted precedents to newly arising problems.
During this stage of the construction, forced labor was provided by the residents
of Trabzon sub-province who were between the ages of eighteen and fifty. The workers
received free bread and thirty para for other food supplies on a daily basis. Istanbul
68 PMOA, SD 1828/14, 5 Rebiyülahır 1290 (2 June 1873)
69 Micheal Meeker, A Nation of Empire: The Ottoman Legacy of Turkish Modernity (Berkeley, Los
Angeles & London: University of California Press, 2002), 200. This also explains the frequency with which
Ottoman authorities questioned the appropriate route for the Trabzon road and discussed alternatives such
as the Erzurum-Rize road. There were, in that context, suggestions to connect Erzurum directly to one of
the other coastal towns instead of Trabzon –a topic to be dealt with in Chapter Four.
70 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
86
provided them with tents so that they could take shelter from the cold at night.
Additionally, the government expected that the stonemasons –whose daily wage normally
varied between nine and twelve piasters depending on their mastership- settle for five
piasters while serving the state. Their apprentices received 2.5 piasters. Moreover, the
residents of nearby villages were obliged to produce and transport timber to the quarries
and limekilns for free since the transportation of lime from distant locations would be too
costly. Last but not least, three Ottoman engineers were appointed to supervise the
construction.71
In the spring of 1860, construction continued in Gülçayır and the central treasury
funded the section until Incirlik which was almost two and a half hours away from
Trabzon. The part of the road between Incirlik and Ayvasıl, which took an hour to travel
(approximately 4 kilometers or 2.5 miles long), was a tough spot to build because it got
very muddy especially in winter and during the rainy seasons. On May 1st 1861, workers
started digging ditches (hendek hafr olunarak) and building stone sewers on both sides of
the road (iki kol kargir lagımlar örülerek). Apart from stonemasons, officials hired some
other workers (ırgat) for a daily wage of five piasters. These workers also received free
bread on a daily basis.72
The work at Ayvasıl required the employment of 20-25 stonemasons and 100-150
forced laborers each day so that the construction could be completed in six months before
winter conditions set in. If officials enrolled seven out of one hundred people from the
71 PMOA, I.MVL 403/17488, 7 Safer 1275 (16 September 1858)
72 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860); PMOA, MVL 601/90, 24 Muharrem 1277
(12 August 1860); PMOA, I.DH 472/31663, 10 Zilkade 1277 (20 May 1861)
87
population of the nearby Akçaabat, Vakf-ı Sagır, Yomra and Cevizlik districts, 2,848
workers could be drafted each week to work on a rotation system. Under these
circumstances, the road would be ready for the safe passage of caravans and other
travelers for the next winter.73
By July 1861, workers finished the construction of the section between Incirlik
and Ayvasıl. It took fifty-six days to complete the construction of the road which had
previously caused the death of at least ten-fifteen loaded animals each year. The pace of
the construction was astonishingly fast compared to previous years. While workers could
finish only 4.5 kilometers (2.7 miles) in the previous two years, this time the construction
of 1.5 kilometers (1 mile) until Hosoglan Mill took only fifty-six days.74 The records do
not offer an obvious reason for this sudden and extreme increase in the speed of the
construction. One possible reason could be the fact that the forced laborers –whose
inferior work skills were a constant complaint by authorities- were getting more
experienced every year. More intensive exploitation of workers can be another reason.
Notwithstanding the increasing speed of the construction, the Ottoman state was
faced with the problem of labor shortage. Meanwhile, Trabzon became a popular
destination for many Chechen migrants from Russian Caucasia. Since there was not
enough land in Trabzon for their settlement, the state sent some of the migrants via boat
first to Istanbul and from thereon to Thrace. Most of the migrants, however, wanted to
settle in Samsun. The Ottoman state agreed to their demand and sent them to Samsun; but
73 PMOA, I.DH 472/31663, 10 Zilkade 1277 (20 May 1861)
74 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 483/68, 1 Muharrem 1278 (9 July 1861)
88
their number was increasing day by day. Therefore, at one point, Inspector Rıza Effendi
requested that no further immigrants be sent to Samsun.75
In the meantime, Suleiman Bey, the governor of Samsun district, noted that
Russia began deporting Chechens to Trabzon and neighboring harbors on Russian boats
because of the increasing political tension between the Russian government and the
Chechens. These immigrants were almost always unemployed and lived in poverty. As a
result, most of them resorted to begging while others started stealing food and animals
from the local population. According to Suleiman Bey, this situation further exacerbated
the stereotypical characterization of immigrants as lazy people (onca muhacirin-i
merkumenin her tarafta kısl ve rehavetlerinden sikâyet olunmakta ise de). In order to
solve the problem, the state employed most of the Nogay immigrants in the construction
of a secondary school in Trabzon. Contrary to the stereotypical views, they worked
harder than the local population even though they earned less (bir cüzi yevmiyeye kanaat
ile yerli ameleden ziyade çalısıp pek çok is gördürülmüs).76
Concurrently, officials intended to start the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum
road in spring 1864 in Hosoglan, which was five hours away from Trabzon. The
topography of the road was very rocky and in bad shape once one left Trabzon city
center, which made the travel of caravans that used this route day by day too difficult.
Therefore, it was planned that work on the road should start immediately in the section
between Trabzon and Hosoglan. Since the state had recently passed a new road charter
(1861), the residents of Trabzon could either work on the construction site for four days
75 PMOA, I.MVL 497/22469, 12 Cemaziyülâhır 1280 (24 November 1863)
76 Ibid.
89
or pay the road tax of five piasters. According to Trabzon’s Governor Emin Pasha, the
Ottoman state should use the collected tax money to hire migrants from Caucasia and
poor residents of the region as permanent road workers. The governor hoped to employ at
least 300-500 people in this manner. Thus, the migrants would find a means of earning a
living and the construction of the road would accelerate.77
While Ottoman officials tried to switch from forced to wage labor, concerns about
the unskilled forced laborers continued in 1865. French engineer Monsieur Tevenin
thought that the employment of unskilled forced labor was the main cause behind the
delays in the construction. Instead of using unskilled labor, he argued that Istanbul
government should spend a few thousand keses78 to hire a few hundred skilled workers.
Feyzi Pasha supported Monsieur Tevenin and suggested dividing the fourteen hour long
section of the road, which started in Erzurum, into four different parts and employing five
hundred workers in each section.79
According to the Fourth Army however, this procedure would prove to be too
difficult and too costly. First, the road was flat (düzlük), stony (taslık), muddy
(çamurluk), swampy (bataklık), woody (ormanlık), or hilly (dere ve tepe) at different
points; thus, employing an equal number of workers in each section would not be
efficient. Therefore, the Fourth Army was of the opinion that instead of hiring wage
labor, authorities should depend on the forced laborers of Trabzon, Erzurum, Lazistan,
77 Ibid.
78 Kese-i Rumi equaled 50,000 akçes (approximately 416 piasters). Pamuk, A Monetary History of the
Ottoman Empire, 97. One lira equaled 12,000 akçes (1 Lira = 100 piasters, 1 piaster = 40 paras, 1 para = 3
akçes).
79 PMOA, MVL 698/56, 14 Sevval 1281 (12 March 1865)
90
Giresun, Karahisar, and Erzincan sub-provinces. Trabzon alone was home to 170,000
people, of whom more than 60,000 were liable to forced labor. Moreover, Gümüshane
could also supply skilled labor because many of its residents were stonemasons for whose
labor there was demand even in Russia. Meanwhile, there were also concerns about the
use of pack animals in the construction of the road. The provincial government of
Trabzon was afraid that people would start selling their animals once they figured out that
the government considered using them in road work. Therefore, the governor decided not
to register the pack animals until construction started so as not to raise suspicions.80
Despite complaints about the unskilled forced labor, the Ottoman government
continued to employ the local population in the construction of the road because of the
shortage of labor. Meanwhile, Istanbul government prepared new instructions regarding
the management of the Trabzon-Erzurum road and the organization of forced labor.
According to this plan, the commissioner of the road (tarik komiseri) supervised the
budget of the road and reported the number of forced laborers to the chief engineer. In
return, the chief engineer had the right to hire workers or contractors if the number of the
forced laborers proved to be insufficient. In addition, both Trabzon and Erzurum
provinces established a road commission (tarik komisyonu) which consisted of the
provincial governor, district governors, and two members of the provincial assembly who
were selected by the provincial and district governors. The commission members would
not receive additional stipends, but had the right to request travel allowances if they
needed to go to the construction site.81
80 Ibid.
81 PMOA, MVL 1043/27, 11 Muharrem 1284 (15 May 1867)
91
Thus, from September 1st until December 15th 1868, workers completed the
construction of sixteen kilometers (23,400 zira’82 or 10 miles) at different points along
the road (between Trabzon and Cevizlik, in Hamsiköy, in Bekçiler, and between Ardasa
(modern-day Torul) and Abdülrahim Village). The construction of a similar section had
lasted as long as three years in the previous phases of the construction.83 Trabzon’s
governor distributed bread to the forced laborers who lived far from the road and could
not go home to spend the night.84 In addition, Assad Agha, now the governor of Bayburt
district, and Osman Agha, a member of the district assembly, got promotions thanks to
their eminent service in the dispatch of four different groups of forced labor to the
construction site on Kop Mountain.85 It is noteworthy that these two aghas had also
previously helped the Ottoman state in the organization of forced labor in 1858. They
were, however, local notables without an official title then. By 1868, both notables were
incorporated into the state structure; one was a district governor and the other a member
in the Bayburt district assembly.
According to consular reports, the number of forced laborers who were employed
on a daily basis was on average four thousand in 1868. In addition, one thousand
stonemasons were hired for a daily wage of six piasters. Forced laborers were recruited
from villages within eighty miles of the road. In order to be exempt from five days of
82 Zira’ was used interchangeably with arsın. See Ismail Parlatır, Osmanlı Türkçesi Sözlügü (Ankara: Yargı
Yayınevi, 2006). 1 arsın was approximately 68 centimeters or 28 inches. See New Redhouse Turkish-
English Dictionary, Eleventh ed. (Istanbul: Redhouse, 1990).
83 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 435/82, 6 Zilkade 1285 (18 February 1869); PMOA, I.DH 587/40828, 24 Sevval
1285 (7 February 1869)
84 PMOA, MVL 734/13, 22 Zilhicce 1283 (27 April 1867)
85 PMOA, I.DH 582/40537, 9 Recep 1285 (26 October 1868)
92
forced labor, villagers had to pay 22.5 piasters (1 mecidiye). According to Consul
Palgrave, however, only a few men were able to pay this amount. Moreover, most men
had to spend six days or more in order to arrive at the construction site. Thus, peasants
were not able to make any money for three to four weeks. In the end, the inability to pay
22.5 piasters caused a monetary loss of 77.5 piasters for the peasantry.86
In 1869, construction started at six different points. Each section required 500
workers, amounting to 3,000 workers in total. 2,000 of this amount was forced labor and
1,000 hired labor. In previous years, construction had coincided with the harvest;
therefore, the number of men recruited had not been high. Thus, in early 1869, Feyzi
Pasha and Major (Binbası) Hakkı Bey invited the governors of sub-districts (nevahi
müdüranı) and the members of local assemblies to Trabzon in order to make sure that the
desired number of men would be sent to the construction site.87 Later, the governor of
Trabzon and the Field Marshal of the Fourth Army (Dördüncü Ordu Hümayun Müsiri)
awarded a medal to the former governor of Torul district Osman Effendi –who was at the
time the governor of Of district-, Torul’s Mufti Hussein Effendi, and the governor of
Sürmene sub-district Ibrahim Agha for their timely dispatch of the requested number of
forced laborers.88
86 “Report by Mr. Consul Gifford-Palgrave, on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1868”
in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls in 1869, August,
London, August 1869, p. 432, 435, 438.
87 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 435/82, 6 Zilkade 1285 (18 February 1869); PMOA, I.DH 587/40828, 24 Sevval
1285 (7 February 1869)
88 PMOA, I.DH 607/42307, 16 Zilkade 1286 (17 February 1870)
93
In September 1869, construction continued for another five thousand man-days
(in other words 250 men each of whom had to serve the state for twenty days). Under
these circumstances, it was expected that the Trabzon-Erzurum road would be available
for the passage of coaches in the next two years. The Field Marshal of the Fourth Army
hoped to finish the sections in Erzurum at the end of 1869. If this worked out, the only
task left to do the following year would be the completion of a section in Trabzon that
took five hours to travel.89
In 1870, the construction demanded 16,000 man-days of forced labor (800 men)
and 6,800 carriages. In previous years, all the men living in the region had already served
to the full extent –twenty days of forced labor for five consecutive years. Moreover, the
state could hire only 200-300 wage-labor daily in Erzurum. In this case, it would take
years to complete the construction. Therefore, according to the Charter of Roads,
authorities turned to “reserve forced labor” (daire-i ihtiyatiye) which included the
residents of districts and villages at a distance of 15-35 hours from the road. For every
extra three hours of travel distance, a day was deducted from the total number of
mandatory days that the people had to serve. The goal of this deduction was to prevent
the possibility that the reserve forced labor spent more time for road-building than the
“regular” forced laborers who lived closer to the construction site.90
The reserve forced labor provided 22,000 man-days (1,100 men) and 7,000
carriages. Under these circumstances, the construction could finish in a year. Eighteen
kilometers (eleven miles) had already been completed in previous years and thirty-four
89 PMOA, I.DH 598/41651, 2 Cemaziyülâhır 1286 (9 September 1869)
90 PMOA, I.DH 607/42316, 19 Zilkade 1286 (20 February 1870)
94
kilometers (twenty-one miles) had been constructed in the past year. Another 102
kilometers (63 miles) was finished in 1870.91 The governor of Trabzon sub-province
(mutasarrıf) Hacı Ali Sefik Bey and the governor of Gümüshane sub-province Sükrü Bey
received a distinction for their service in organizing the forced labor.92
In 1871, there was still need for an additional 19,800 man-days (990 forced
laborers). According to the Charter of Roads, the state could ask people who had already
served twenty days to work an additional ten days. Therefore, Hakkı Bey who was
responsible for the construction of the road in Trabzon province requested that
Gümüshane sub-province provide another 6,000 man-days (300 men). The auxiliary
compartments which were 12-25 hours away from the road could supply the rest (13,800
man-days / 690 forced laborers).93
Moreover, according to Hakkı Bey, Karahisar sub-province in Sivas had close
relations with Siran district in Gümüshane. In fact, some villages in Karahisar were at a
distance of less than twelve hours away from the road. Therefore, even though Karahisar
was administratively part of another province and there was no convergence between this
sub-province and the road, it was geographically tied to Gümüshane and could thus
benefit from the Trabzon-Erzurum road. As a result, the residents of Karahisar were
expected to work as forced labor in the construction of the road. If the governors of the
two provinces (Trabzon and Sivas) could not reach an agreement, they were required to
invite the Sublime Port to act as a referee. Meanwhile, the districts of Kıgı, Pasinler (also
91 Ibid.
92 PMOA, I.DH 618/43000, 20 Cemaziyülevvel 1287 (18 August 1870)
93 PMOA, SD 1826/23, 29 Rebiyülâhır 1288 (18 July 1871)
95
called Hasankale), and Hınıs in Erzurum, which were 30-35 hours away from the road,
provided the required number of forced laborers for the section of the road in Erzurum.94
Further planning of the road in 1871 revealed Hakkı Bey’s estimated calculations
to be very realistic. The section between Daltaban-Müftü Bridge-Murat Han-Kalecik
required 6,650 man-days (approximately 330 men) from Gümüshane sub-province.
Auxiliary compartments (Karahisar sub-province, Tirebolu and Of districts, and Görele
sub-district) could provide 13,150 man-days (approximately 655 men) for the rest of the
road between Ardasa-Daltaban and Kalecik-Vavuk Mountain. People worked for fifteen
days; but they were given a discharge certificate which was valid for twenty days. The
additional five days were counted as the time they would spend traveling between their
hometowns and the construction site.95
In practice, Tirebolu, Görele, and Of provided 10,266, 5,536, and 4,207 man-days
respectively, making up 21,039 in total (approximately 1,050 men). This included also
the service provided by the sick and the handicapped as well as that provided by teachers
and religious officials who were originally exempt from forced labor according to the
Charter of Roads. Even after the service of these exempt groups –which was
approximately 5,000 man-days (250 men)- was deducted from the total, the man-days
offered by Tirebolu, Görele, and Of was still more than what was needed (in other words,
13,150 man-days to be provided by approximately 655 men). Last but not least, forced
laborers from Maçka, Vakf-ı Sagır and Yomra sub-districts could work for an additional
ten days at two different construction sites between Zigana and Trabzon. In the end,
94 Ibid.
95 Ibid.
96
Maçka and Yomra supplied 5,125 man-days (approximately 255 men) and the
construction started on April 27th 1871.96
By the end of 1871, the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road was officially
finished. In the following years, authorities continued to make use of forced labor for the
maintenance and repair of the road. For example, in 1879, authorities divided the road
into two sections so as to simplify the process of gathering forced laborers from the
surrounding villages. The first section was between Vavuk Mountain and Kiris Khan at
the border of Bayburt sub-province and the second was between Kiris Khan and Erzincan
Gate in Erzurum city center.97 In the early twentieth century, forced labor was still being
used in the region. In 1903, the local population repaired a section of the road that was
nine kilometers (five miles) long.98 The same year, authorities also planned the repair of
forty kilometers (twenty-four miles) on the Trabzon-Erzurum road, macadamizing (sose)
fifteen kilometers (nine miles) of Erzurum-Bayezid road, and rolling the surface (tesviye-i
turabiye) of another fifteen kilometers on the same route. In September and October,
officials finished rolling the surface of 110 meters (360 feet) on the Erzurum-Bayezid
section, macadamized 720 meters (2,362 feet) on the same route and 6,757 meters (four
miles) on Trabzon-Erzurum road.99
96 Ibid.
97 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
98 PMOA, DH.TMIK.S 47/4, 4 Cemaziyülevvel 1321 (29 July 1903)
99 PMOA, Y.MTV 248/45, 25 Rebiyülâhır 1321 (21 July 1903)
97
One year later, the state needed 47,985 man-days (approximately 2,400 men) for
the repair of the road within Trabzon province.100 Istanbul government macadamized
11,185 meters (almost seven miles), built five new bridges, repaired seven others, and
constructed a forty-two meter (137 feet) long supporting wall (istinat duvarı). All of these
were done using forced labor during 55,036 man-days (approximately 2,750 men). The
state also macadamized 1,662 meters (almost one mile), repaired 2,560 meters (1.5 mile)
of already macadamized sections, rolled the surface of 745 meters (2,444 feet), repaired
457 meters (1,499 feet), and built a new bridge on the Erzurum-Bayezid road with forced
labor from Pasinler during 21,500 man-days (1,075 men). Finally, forced laborers from
Bayezid rolled the surface of 871 meters (2,857 feet) and built a bridge in 1,088 mandays
(approximately 55 men).101
Even though forced labor was used extensively in the construction of the
Trabzon-Erzurum road from 1857 until 1871, the demand for local labor gradually
declined towards the end of the nineteenth century. Instead, authorities started relying
more on monetized form of road taxation. As discussed above, the shift from forced labor
to road tax is identified in the existing literature as a symbol of Ottoman modernization.
The next section will challenge this representation and argue that this transition took
place as a result of certain local needs and demands rather than being a conscious
initiative of the reform-minded ruling elites to capitalize the Ottoman economy.
100 PMOA, T.d. 250, 29 Mart 1320 (11 April 1904)
101 PMOA, Y.PRK.UM 74/106, 2 Muharrem 1323 (9 March 1905)
98
Forced Labor System and the Local Origins of the Modern State:
The construction of the road between Maçka and Bayburt in 1860-1861 gave birth
to a major discussion among Ottoman officials. Accordingly, the majority of the people
who were going to be recruited as forced labor were dwellers of villages that were at
great distances from the road. These people would need to spend at least a few days on
the way in order to arrive at the construction site where they would work for only three
days. Thus, for a round trip, they would be wasting almost a week on the road, which in
turn would have a negative impact on their business. Moreover, some of the people who
were recruited from closer districts like Vakf-ı Sagır, Yomra, Akçaabat, and Maçka were
too weak, too old or too young. There were even some children among them. Because of
these reasons, some people decided not to show up at the construction site. Instead, they
hired substitute workers for three days, paid them 20-30 piasters, and sent them to work
in road-building on their behalf.102
Another problem was that most of the local population had already served for
road-building projects in previous years and could not be legally recruited again. Last but
not least, the provincial assembly was of the opinion that the work done by three forced
laborers could not even measure up to the work done by a hired worker. As a matter of
fact, this difference between the quality of work done by forced and hired laborers was
mentioned as one of the reasons for the slow pace of the construction. If Istanbul hired
two hundred men from Trabzon and Maçka districts instead of using forced labor, the
provincial government promised to pay for the bread that the road workers needed. If the
102 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860); PMOA, MVL 605/4, 4 Cemaziyülevvel
1277 (18 November 1860)
99
central state paid these men a daily wage of five piasters from June 1860 to September
1860, the total cost of the construction between Maçka and Bayburt would be 1,200 liras
in total.103
In response to this demand to hire wage-labor from Trabzon province, the Grand
Council in Istanbul suggested that Trabzon should hire workers (ırgat) from Erzurum and
Van. The residents of these two provinces were already used to hard labor from their
work experience in either Istanbul or other parts of the empire. In contrast, the dwellers
of Trabzon specialized only in agriculture: they were either seasonal workers (rençber) or
sharecroppers (kiracı). The members of the Council estimated that twenty ırgats could do
as much work as 150 rençbers or kiracıs. Moreover, if Istanbul paid a daily wage of five
paisters to the twenty wage-laborers from Van and Erzurum, then there would be need for
a daily cost of only one lira. This amount was actually much less than the price of the
bread that authorities would have to distribute among the 150 seasonal workers or
sharecroppers in return for their forced labor.104
The provincial assembly in Trabzon offered to pay for this expenditure by
collecting money from three different groups: those who refused to work in the
construction site, those who were not recruited in previous years because the road was at
a distance from their villages, and lastly, those who would benefit from the construction
of the road in general. In turn, the local government would use the collected money to
hire substitute workers. Under these conditions, the construction would proceed much
103 Ibid.
104 PMOA, MVL 605/4, 4 Cemaziyülevvel 1277 (18 November 1860)
100
faster compared to previous years.105 In other words, by converting the road tax from
forced labor to a monetized form, the local government was trying to expand the
population pool which would be eligible for this road tax and then hire wage-labor.
The people whom the state recruited as forced labor from near-by villages usually
worked in the phases of the construction that did not require skilled labor. They only
received bread in return for their labor, which consisted of carrying stones or moving soil
from one place to another. The provincial government had already guaranteed 337 liras to
hire workers who would replace these unskilled villagers. The local government could
collect the rest of the needed money from the three groups mentioned above.106
Istanbul government admitted to the fact that this new procedure would create a
favorable atmosphere for local business since people would not have to leave their work
to fulfill their forced labor obligation. The Grand Council, however, was also concerned
about the possibility that the money collected by the local authorities might not be spent
properly, in other words for the purpose of road-building. Moreover, it was suspected that
the collection of money from the rich would wound the pride of the poor segments of the
population who would not be able to pay the road tax. Therefore, even if some provincial
actors were content with this new method, the central government disapproved its
application.107
105 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860)
106 PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 126/63, 10 Sevval 1277 (21 April 1861)
107 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860); PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 126/63, 10 Sevval
1277 (21 April 1861)
101
Furthermore, the Grand Council had previously reviewed and rejected this
procedure in other parts of the empire. If Trabzon was now allowed to apply a monetized
road tax system, it would create a precedent for other provinces. In conclusion, the
collection of the road tax was declared to be impermissible. It was equally inappropriate,
however, to either oblige people to build roads far from their homes or to hold them
exempt from forced labor.108
As a solution, Istanbul proposed another procedure and asked the people who
were unable to physically work in the construction of the road to send substitute workers.
This was in line with the 1853 Road Charter that was still effective in 1860. Moreover,
male residents of a village could take collective action to find men who would construct
roads on their behalf. The government would condone cases in which the number of
substitute workers did not match the exact number of men who refused to work. In other
words, there could be a few more or less substitutes than the registered number of forced
laborers.109
Thus, Istanbul government suggested that its male subjects themselves should
bargain with their substitutes over daily wages instead of paying a specified amount of
money to the local authorities and having them look for substitutes. This was believed to
be a much more secure method to prevent corruption. Therefore, the collection of money
from the populace for road building was forbidden under all circumstances.110 Apart from
108 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860); PMOA, A.MKT.UM 482/67, 1277
(1861), no specific date
109 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860); PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 119/30, 4 Safer
1277 (22 August 1860)
110 Ibid.
102
the unskilled forced labor, the central treasury made sure that it would continue to pay for
the daily wages of the skilled workers such as the stonemasons.111
Trabzon’s provincial assembly responded by insisting on the collection of a road
tax from the residents of the region. In this second correspondence, the assembly used
different arguments to justify this insistence. First, the twenty-five villages that were
closest to the construction were all spread out. Usually, it took at least 20-30 minutes to
walk from one house to another. The reason for this scattered settlement was the
geographical features of the region. Houses were located in forests and the area itself was
very mountainous. Therefore, only a few people were living in these villages close to the
road, and consequently the number of the recruits was not going to be sufficient because
the region was not densely populated.112
Apart from these villages which were close to the road but not densely populated,
the closest villages were at least five hours away from the road. Moreover, the substitute
workers chosen by the dwellers of these villages were sick or deaf, thus not able to work.
Last but not least, half of the Trabzon-Erzurum road passed through Trabzon province;
thus, the population of Trabzon as a whole would benefit from the construction of the
road. Under these circumstances, if each person paid twenty piasters to the provincial
government to hire road workers, the construction of the swampy section after Maçka
would be finished by November 1860, before winter conditions set in. In conclusion, the
provincial assembly once more asked the Grand Council for permission to withdraw
111 PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 126/63, 10 Sevval 1277 (21 April 1861)
112 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 482/67, 1277 (1861), no specific date; PMOA, MVL 605/4, 4 Cemaziyülevvel
1277 (18 November 1860)
103
money from the provincial treasury in order to hire wage labor. The road tax collected
from Trabzon dwellers at a later date was expected to cover for this expenditure.113
The Grand Council argued that the provincial assembly’s insistence to create a
monetized road tax system was not appropriate. As the members of the provincial
assembly also noted, the residents of Trabzon province would benefit from the
construction of the road in one way or another regardless of the distance between the road
and their villages. Therefore, even if they lived ten hours away from the road, they were
still supposed to serve in the construction of the road. Only people residing as far as Ordu
and Canik districts were exempt from this service since it was obvious that a road which
was that far would not provide them with any advantages. Therefore, it would not be fair
to expect these people to contribute to the road’s construction.114
The Grand Council also maintained that the local government should not allow
those who were not strong enough to work in construction, regardless of their status as
forced labor (recruited by local authorities) or substitute workers (hired by their wealthier
fellow countrymen). If those who served the state as forced labor were strong enough in
the first place, then the government would easily eliminate the difficulty faced by the
people while travelling from their distant villages to the construction site. Therefore, the
113 Ibid.
114 Ibid. This is a good example of how the Ottoman state tried to pay attention to regional differences and
exempted certain districts from forced labor based on their proximity to roads. In other words, while the
individuation of taxation would continue to expand (as will be discussed below), the universalism of the
taxation system was still not complete. This would continue to be a problem even in the aftermath of the
1908 Constitutional Revolution when the Arab members of the newly established Ottoman parliament
wanted to discuss as the first item on their agenda the provincial differences in the tax collection system.
Hasan Kayalı, Arabs and Young Turks: Ottomanism, Arabism, and Islamism in the Ottoman Empire, 1908-
1918 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997), 71.
104
complaint by the provincial assembly that the substitute workers were not suitable for
road-building was not a valid justification to promote the monetization of the road tax.115
As for the argument that forced laborers’ performance was inferior to that
provided by skilled labor, which in turn delayed the construction of the road, the Grand
Council responded by arguing that the provincial assembly should encourage the locals to
work and convince them that the road would be a monument of their own efforts
(ahalinin muvaffakatları ve kendi emekleri ile meydana gelecek bir eser-i cemil). Last but
not least, those who sent substitute workers should be warned not to hire people who
were not fit for the hard labor that road-building required. In conclusion, the Grand
Council strictly forbade the provincial assembly from collecting a road tax from the
inhabitants of Trabzon province.116
In the following section, I will discuss the implications that this debate between
the Trabzon provincial assembly and the Grand Council in Istanbul can have in terms of
the process of modern state formation in the Ottoman Empire.
Rethinking Modernization in the Nineteenth-Century Ottoman Empire:
The incident, the details of which I conveyed above, took place in 1860, one year
before the government implemented the legal framework which allowed Ottoman
subjects to choose between taxation and compulsory labor. Consequently, at the time of
the incident, all male subjects were legally obliged to work in the construction of the
115 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 482/67, 1277 (1861), no specific date; PMOA, MVL 605/4, 4 Cemaziyülevvel
1277 (18 November 1860)
116 Ibid.
105
Trabzon-Erzurum road. Despite this legal obligation, a change in the system was
suggested at the provincial level so that those in question would pay a certain fee to the
local authorities who, in turn, would hire substitute workers. More specifically, a de facto
road tax system was created at the local level as a solution to forced labor.
This case proves the Ottoman state’s eagerness to regulate the empire in a flexible
fashion. Only a year later, the central government promulgated a new road charter that
responded to this local demand. As discussed in the introduction of this chapter, the 1861
Charter allowed Ottoman subjects to choose between forced labor and the road tax.
Moreover, a new article stated that people should not be forced to work in the
construction of roads which were twelve hours away from their homes. Thus, the central
government chose to adjust one of its legal codes to local demands.
The crucial point here is not to praise the Ottoman state for its benevolence and
tolerance, but to see how a local initiative could have an impact on empire-wide
processes. It was not the state’s willingness to capitalize and modernize the economy that
led to the amendment of the law –as it is argued in the secondary literature. Quite the
contrary, initially the central state was highly skeptical about monetizing the road tax as it
feared the corruption of local authorities who would be in charge of collecting the money.
The monetization of the road tax was demanded locally, which shows that
Ottoman society’s role was not only to resist or complain about the state and its policies
concerning forced labor. The reality was much more complicated than just a dichotomous
relationship between an oppressive state on the one hand and a resisting population on the
other. Social resistance did not only mean a rejection of new road constructions. In the
end, the aspiration to create a de facto road tax system constituted and defined one of the
106
most important legal documents concerning public works in the late Ottoman world (in
other words, the 1861 Road Charter). Thus, while this case attests to the implicit tensions
between central and provincial governments (as in the discussion on corruption), it also
points out how central policies were shaped by local historical circumstances.
Trabzon provincial assembly’s demand to collect the road tax provides an
opportunity to analyze the relationship between the local and the central in a much more
nuanced way. First, this case proves that the relationship between these two categories
was not based on a strict dichotomy. The local realm consisted of multiple classes as
exemplified by the case of poor residents who could not afford to pay the road tax versus
those who complained that they did not want to temporarily leave their jobs in order to
serve as forced labor. Thus, neither the ‘local’ nor the ‘central’ were uniform entities. On
the contrary, based on the facts of this story, it is possible to conclude that there was
initially an alliance between the central government and the poor of Trabzon who
collaborated against the provincial assembly which represented the interests of the upper
classes in Trabzon who did not want to work as forced labor.117
Such an explanation should not be interpreted as an effort to picture the central
Ottoman state as the guardian angel of the poor and accuse local notables of looking after
their own interests, but to highlight a network of alliances between different classes. This
perspective can, thus, underline the dynamic nature of the modern state and move beyond
117 Both Doumani and Aytekin make a similar observation. They argue that the peasants wanted the
Istanbul government to get involved in local politics as a safeguard against the local notables who preferred
the provincial councils to solve the conflicts concerning land problems. They also conclude that there was
an increase in the number of petitions sent directly to Istanbul after 1860s when the Tanzimat reforms were
implemented in the provinces. Doumani, Rediscovering Palestine; Erden Attila Aytekin, Land, Rural
Classes, and Law: Agrarian Conflict and State Regulation in the Ottoman Empire, 1830s-1860s
(Unpublished Dissertation, Binghamton University, 2006).
107
a discussion based on a dichotomy either between the Ottoman state and society or
between central and local politics. As this case points out, local historical circumstances
could shape central political realities as in the example of the 1861 Road Charter.
Moreover, central authorities could shift sides in their relationship with different classes.
In the case mentioned above, Istanbul first supported the poor in order to curb the power
of the local notables and prevent them from controlling the collection of the road tax. Yet
one year later, they passed a law that favored the upper classes (the new 1861 Road
Charter).
This case can provide a framework for Ottoman historians to question the
modernization paradigm which shapes the existing literature on the construction of roads
in the Ottoman Empire during the second half of the nineteenth century. As discussed in
the introduction of this chapter, scholars interpret the legal reform of 1861 as a conscious
initiative of the modern Ottoman state to capitalize and monetize the economy, and thus
as a symbol of Ottoman modernization. The fact that “modernizing” central state policies
were in fact locally constituted –as in the case of the 1861 Law- makes it possible to
question the validity of using the concept of modernization as a theoretical tool. As
Blumi suggests, “much of the discourse on the “emergence” of nation-state, modernity
and colonialism has reflected the questions posed from a state-centric perspective, not the
conditions that may have existed in the period under study.”118 Moreover, Faroqhi notes
that “the history of Ottoman transportation as a whole still remains to be written.”
“Scholars have concentrated,” she continues, “mainly upon the institutional aspects of the
118 Isa Blumi, Rethinking the Late Ottoman Empire: A Comparative Social and Political History of Albania
and Yemen, 1878-1918 (Istanbul: ISIS Press, 2003), 12.
108
problem. . . . Thus Ottoman official policies relating to communications by land and sea
are generally quite well understood, even though regional differences in application still
remain to be investigated.”119 This chapter argues that taking the local context into
consideration may not only indicate the discrepancy between the theoretical imagination
of state policies at the central level and their practical application in a specific locale, but
also clarify how these policies were actually born in a local context rather than being
forcibly imposed on it.
Modernization implies a grand imperial or nation-wide project that separates a
traditional/medieval/feudal/pre-industrial past from the “modern” present or future. In the
above case, however, a supposedly “modern” practice was not initiated by the state in
order to overcome tradition, but was demanded by certain Ottoman subjects based on
their local, material, everyday needs. Thus, in this case, the concept of modernization
becomes problematic because, as a theoretical tool, it fails to fulfill one of its basic
functions: to explain social reality. Modernization was not an alien or universal process
enforced on different localities, which ultimately assimilated the local’s diversity into a
singular homogeneity or –as Mikhail puts forward- which diminished the autonomy of
local knowledge and the reliance on local expertise in public works.120 On the contrary,
certain policies of the modern state had local roots in very specific social contexts.
Moreover, this case demonstrates that there were different responses to road
construction even in a tiny locality such as Maçka. While some Ottoman subjects who
119 Suraiya Faroqhi, "Camels, Wagon, and the Ottoman State in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries,"
International Journal of Middle East Studies 14, no. 4 (1982): 523.
120 Mikhail, Nature and Empire in Ottoman Egypt: An Environmental History.
109
were asked to serve in the construction of the road preferred to pay a fee rather than
working, the very existence of substitute workers proves that there was also a substantial
group of people who were unemployed or poor enough to have to complement their
income by other means. Hence, it was not the abstract notion of “state modernization” –
which disregards social differences and draws a general big picture-, but the experiences
of people who came from different local backgrounds and social contexts that shaped
historical developments.
Finally, this story also attests to the gradual process in which the forced labor
system changed –and hence to the gradual process in which modern states came into
being. In theory, the Ottoman state had already individuated the forced labor system by
1860. On paper, every male Ottoman subject was responsible for serving the state
according to the 1853 Directive. However, as the case mentioned above demonstrates, in
practice, the state allowed its subjects to act collectively in fulfilling their responsibilities:
men from a certain village could act collectively to find substitute workers. The number
of substitute workers did not have to match the exact number of absentee forced laborers,
which shows that at times the state itself could avoid applying laws to their full extent
and try to develop practical solutions to urgent problems. Paradoxically, when the
Ottoman state acknowledged its policy of individuating the road tax system in 1861, it
also adopted a collective notion of taxation in the Charter of Finances, which was drafted
the same year (1861 Umur-ı Maliye Nizamnamesi).121 Thus, the state was constantly
121 For more information see Nadir Özbek, ""Anadolu Islahatı," "Ermeni Sorunu" ve Vergi Tahsildarlıgı,
1895-1908," Tarih ve Toplum Yeni Yaklasımlar, no. 9 (2009): 63.
110
experimenting with its forced labor and taxation policies rather than following consistent
policies.
By challenging the modernization paradigm, this chapter does not reject the
changes that the Ottoman Empire went through in the nineteenth century, but seeks to
demonstrate that thinking beyond a narrative of state modernization can help historians to
understand these changes in a more nuanced way. After all, social change never occurs in
a vacuum. It follows an uneven process, which is full of gaps and ups-and-downs, rather
than a uni-linear trajectory. Moreover, not every Ottoman subject experienced the
nineteenth century changes in the same manner –as discussed earlier in the case of the
substitute workers on the one hand and those who wanted to escape forced labor on the
other. Therefore, it is difficult to talk in terms of only the “success” or “failure” of
modern states which universally controlled a unified territory. On the contrary, historians
also have to take into account what was happening at the social and local levels.
Conclusion:
This chapter analyzed the organization of labor in the construction process of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road. Finding sufficient and efficient workers was one of the major
problems that Ottoman authorities faced in this process. They resorted mainly to the use
of forced labor, but also employed wage-labor occasionally. In this context, the state
cared tremendously for the health of the workers. Cheap immigrant labor from Caucasia
or skilled labor from the Balkans were other ways of supplying the workforce. Reliance
on local notables for the organization of forced labor constitutes another trademark of the
early stages of the construction. Thus, local power holders who would benefit from the
111
commercial significance of the road were involved in the construction process from the
very beginning.
One important question that begs an answer is whether or not the wages were
satisfactory for the amount of work done by individual workers. As I argued earlier in
this chapter, the Ottoman state relied on forced labor to a great extent during the 1860s.
As archival sources show, the other option was to hire workers for a daily wage of five
piasters. This wage seems to have increased, in fact doubled, over time. The daily wage
of a hired laborer was approximately 2.5 piasters (90-100 para) in 1847. Almost ten years
later, in 1858, an apprentice for a stonemason still received the same amount. In the
1860s however, the daily wage of an unskilled laborer is recorded in the sources as five
piasters. In the private sector, wages may have been a little higher as men who did not
want to serve as forced labor offered a daily wage of 7-10 piasters to substitute workers
in 1860 (20-30 piasters for three days). For skilled labor such as that of stonemasons, the
prices were a bit higher: 9-12 piasters per day in 1858. It is possible that this amount may
have also doubled in the 1860s.
We do not have enough data on the prices of basic consumer goods in this period,
but we do know that the Ottoman state paid thirty para (approximately one piaster) to
forced laborers per day in 1858 so that they could buy basic food supplies (except bread
which was provided by the state). Keeping in mind that an apprentice received a daily
wage of 2.5 piasters in the same year, we can conclude that an unskilled worker had to
spend almost half of his daily wage for nourishment (assuming that the thirty para that
the state provided was enough for a daily diet).
112
We can also compare the wages of the road workers to those of other workers and
engineers. During the nineteenth century, the daily wage of an unskilled laborer (ırgad)
in Trabzon was around eight piasters (a thousand akçe).122 In 1868, the daily wage of a
miner in Trabzon was six piasters, only one piaster more than that of a road worker.123
According to British consular reports, other types of labor earned fairly better. A
carpenter was paid 9-12 piasters per diem. For “fine work,” daily wages skyrocketed to
16-26 piasters. A house painter earned 10-14 piasters, whereas the daily wage of children
was only 2-3 piasters. For unskilled workers and stonemasons, the figures provided by
consular reports match the information obtained from the Ottoman archival sources.
Accordingly, the daily wage of day laborers and stonemasons was 5-6 and 10-14 piasters
respectively.124 In sharp contrast to these numbers were the monthly stipends of Ottoman
engineers, which varied between ten and fifteen liras during the 1860s.125 Compared to
these salaries, the monthly stipend of an unskilled worker was only approximately 1.5
liras (five piasters per day –assuming that a worker would be “lucky” enough to find a
job to work full time for thirty days). At the top of the scale was the stipend of a French
doctor who received a monthly stipend of 30 liras in 1865.
122 Sevket Pamuk, Istanbul ve Diger Kentlerde 500 Yıllık Fiyatlar ve Ücretler, 1469-1998 (500 Years of
Prices and Wages in Istanbul and Other Cities) (Ankara: Türkiye Cumhuriyeti Basbakanlık Devlet
Istatistik Enstitüsü, 2000), 79.
123 “Report on the Provinces of Trebizond, Sivas, Kastemouni, and Part of Angora, by Mr. Consul W.
Gifford Palgrave” in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls
During the Year 1868, August to December, London, February 1869, p. 358
124 “Report by Mr. Consul Gifford-Palgrave, on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1868”
in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls in 1869, August,
London, August 1869, p. 432
125 See Chapter Two.
113
Apart from narrating the organization of labor in the construction of the Trabzon-
Erzurum road, this chapter also presented the evolution of the use of forced labor to a
monetized form of road taxation. Existing literature analyzes the shift from forced labor
to monetary taxation as a symbol of Ottoman modernization. This chapter, however,
underlined the possibility that this shift occurred more as a result of substantial needs –
like the difficulty local authorities faced in organizing forced labor due to the geography
of the region- rather than as a conscious initiative of the reform-minded Ottoman elites to
capitalize the imperial economy.
Throughout the nineteenth century, Ottoman officials experimented with both
options of using forced labor or collecting the road tax and shifted from one to the other.
In the initial stages of the road’s construction (late 1840s), authorities considered hiring
wage labor as a viable option, but the shortage of labor forced them to rely on the local
population in the form of forced labor. It was only towards the turn of the century that
Ottoman statesmen started using less and less forced labor in the construction of roads.
As will be discussed in the next chapter, the collection of the monetary road tax and
hiring contractors substituted for the absence of forced labor.
114
CHAPTER II
FINANCING THE ROAD: TAXATION, CONTRACTORS, AND COMPANIES
Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide
. . .
Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There is a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
Though down this road we've been so many times
High Hopes by David Gilmour and Polly Samson
Introduction:
Financing the construction, maintenance, and repair of the Trabzon-Bayezid road
was a major problem for Ottoman authorities throughout the nineteenth century. While
state funds sponsored the construction in the early stages, there was a gradual shift
towards the collection of the road tax in the late nineteenth century. The Ottoman state,
however, faced many difficulties in the application and the collection of the road tax
which turned the annual repairs of the road into a nightmare. In the end, Istanbul
government started to experiment with a new method of building and repairing roads:
hiring contractors and companies.
This chapter will discuss the collection of the road tax and the role of contractors
and private companies in road building projects in the nineteenth century. The underlying
goal will be to highlight the evolutionary process through which modern states and state
115
institutions are formed. I will argue that modern forms of government can never
implement their policies to the full extent, but constantly need to invent and experiment
with novel strategies in order to deal with new problems. As Migdal argues:
Another dimension of the state exists that many of these definitions
[definitions that highlight the state’s capabilities, its proficiency in
achieving a fixed set of goals and in implementing formal policies] do not
capture well: the formulation and transformation of its goals. As the state
organization comes into contact with various social groups, it clashes with
and accommodates to different moral orders. These engagements, which
occur at numerous junctures, change the social bases and the aims of the
state. The state is not a fixed ideological entity. Rather, it embodies an
ongoing dynamic, a changing set of goals, as it engages other social
groups.1
As I discussed in the introductory chapter, Ottoman officials wanted to present the
construction of the Trabzon-Bayezid road as one of the harbingers of modernization
because the road was expected to enhance both the economic and politico-military power
of the Ottoman state in northeastern Anatolia. In reality, however, the state’s constant
struggle to finance the road’s construction, maintenance, and repair demonstrates how the
road was not necessarily the symbol of success for the Ottoman state.
From State Sponsorship to the Establishment of Companies:
In the initial stages of the construction, the Ottoman state was the sole provider of
capital for the road. Even though construction stopped only after a few months because of
harsh weather conditions in 1850, the costs of this short-termed adventure haunted
Ottoman authorities for a while. Istanbul government estimated the cost of the
1 Joel S. Migdal, "The State in Society: An Approach to Struggles for Domination," in State Power and
Social Forces: Domination and Transformation in the Third World, ed. Joel S. Migdal, Atul Kohli, and
Vivienne Shue (Cambridge & New York: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 12.
116
construction to be 1,500 liras in total and expected to pay 1,000 liras from the central
treasury and 500 liras from the provincial treasury of Trabzon.2 However, by 1853, it was
clear that Trabzon had actually spent 4,624 liras (in other words, more than three times of
the initial estimate) for the stipends of the clerks, civil servants, and workers who had
worked for only six months between August 1850 and February 1851.3
In 1852, two years after the construction had been completed, a portion of these
expenses had still not been paid. The clerks, engineers, doctors, pharmacists, and workers
who accompanied the Minister of Commerce Ismail Pasha on his journey to Trabzon had
traveled on the boat Vasıta-i Ticaret. This journey cost 1.5 liras per person, totaling 338.5
liras for the 225 people involved. The Ministry of Finance paid 293.5 liras and, according
to the Grand Council, those who received a travel allowance before their departure from
Istanbul were supposed to pay the rest (45 liras).4
Yet the situation was in fact more complicated. Some of these officials had
accompanied Ismail Pasha not only to Trabzon but also on his journey to Bayezid and
Kars, but they had received a travel allowance which was enough only for their stay in
Trabzon (15 liras). To make things even worse, some of these men had passed away in
the past two years. Last but not least, it would prove too difficult for authorities to track
down the remaining men who had in the meantime been appointed to new positions
throughout the empire. Therefore, it was impossible to collect the unpaid amount from
these men individually. Although the director of the Privy Treasury (Hazine-i Hassa) had
2 PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 12/54, 10 Şevval 1266 (19 August 1850)
3 PMOA, I.MVL 261/9799, 15 Rebiyülâhır 1269 (26 January 1853)
4 PMOA, I.MVL 228/7846, 23 Rebiyülevvel 1268 (16 January 1852)
117
initially suggested that it would be more efficient to deduct the money from the stipends
of these officials, in the end, based on the reasons mentioned above, the Grand Council
decided that the Ministry of Finance should pay the money to the boat company from the
imperial budget allocated to public works.5
The Grand Council also concluded that the Ministry of Finance should pay the
transportation costs of the Croatian workers who went to Trabzon to work in the
construction of the Erzurum road. In the end, the cost of the Croatians’ travel which
amounted to 525 liras was reimbursed from the budget that was allotted to the
construction of roads and bridges.6 If these workers paid the same amount of money for
their boat ticket as the clerks and other officials (1.5 liras), we can conclude that there
must have been approximately three hundred and fifty Croatian workers who went to
Trabzon for this project.
Humphry Sandwith, who worked for Lieutenant General Williams during the
Crimean War and travelled from Trabzon to Erzurum in 1854, described his
disappointment about the cancellation of the road’s construction with the following
words:
This road was quoted as an instance of progress, but a few months passed
away and the workmen rested from their labors. They had accomplished
two miles of road which had been (figuratively speaking) paved with gold.
Were the workmen overpaid, or the engineers? What became of the vast
sums expended? No one chose to answer these inconvenient questions: the
Pasha was removed to fill a high post under Government, and a road of two
miles, already in bad repair, remains as a monument of Turkey’s
indifference and apathy to her own best interests. Since the commencement
5 Ibid.
6 PMOA, MVL 333/11, 1 Muharrem 1269 (15 October 1852); PMOA, I.MVL 251/9199, 18 Muharrem
1269 (1 November 1852)
118
of the war the whole population of towns and villages on this route have
been employed in dragging heavy ordnance over all but impassable tracts
of country; the conveyance of military stores has been most tardy and
imperfect, while the army of Erzeroom and Kars has thus been placed in
most imminent peril.7
In the later stages of the construction, the use of forced labor would cut the costs
to a great extent. In April 1858, when the construction started once again near Erzurum,
authorities spent only 50 liras for the section between Erzurum and Köşepınar which took
nine hours to travel. Thanks to the 3,000 forced laborers from Bayburt, the state had to
pay only the daily wages of stonemasons and carpenters. As the fortress in Erzurum
provided free gunpowder, Istanbul did not have to spend any money for this.8
The initial estimate for the cost of the construction between Erzurum and Bayburt
was around 600 liras for the year 1858. This included the price of the bread distributed to
forced laborers from Bayburt and Ispir districts, the price of the iron tools (forced
laborers had to bring their own non-iron tools), and the salary of the carpenters and clerks
who were not from Trabzon or Erzurum provinces. When construction was completed
after 25,000 man-days (1,250 men), it cost only 260 liras.9 At first glance, 25,000 mandays
may sound like an exaggerated number; but the fact that the cost of the construction
turned out to be even less than half of the estimated amount suggests the extent to which
7 Humphry Sandwith, A Narrative of the Siege of Kars and of the Six Months' Resistence by the Turkish
Garrison under General Williams to the Russian Army Together with a Narrative of Travels and
Adventures in Armenia and Lazistan; with Remarks on the Present State of Turkey (London: John Murray,
1856), 25.
8 PMOA, A.AMD 82/58, 25 Şaban 1274 (10 April 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 256/21 4 Şevval 1274 (18
May 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 102/1, 1 Rebiyülevvel 1275 (9 October 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.UM
336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
9 PMOA, I.DH 415/27462, 2 Rebiyülevvel 1275 (10 October 1858); PMOA, I.DH 417/27628, 14
Rebiyülahır 1275 (21 November 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December
1858)
119
the state exploited the labor of its subjects for free. These men leveled rocky parts of the
road with gunpowder, filled swampy and muddy sections with earth and stones, diverted
watercourses, and raised bridges so that, in the end, coaches were able to operate from
Erzurum to Bayburt in 1858.10
By 1859, the section between Trabzon and Boztepe was also constructed with the
capital provided by both the state budget and the money that the governor of Trabzon
Izzet Pasha spent from his own wallet in order to cover the costs of the bread distributed
to forced laborers and the daily wages of other workers like the stonemasons. The
imperial arsenal provided free gunpowder and tools. In the spring of 1859, work on the
road started in Boztepe, which was located at the outskirts of Trabzon city center. The
merchant Namlızade Hacı Mustafa Agha provided 90 liras to fund the construction of a
khan that was at the summit of this hill.11 In return for his service, Istanbul government
promoted Namlızade and awarded him with a decoration (mecidiye nişan-ı hümayunun
beşinci rütbesi).12 Izzet Pasha, the governor of Trabzon, financed the rest of the road,
which ended at Gülçayır Khans in Yokuşbaşı that was a very muddy and swampy area.
The governor spent a total of 430 liras for the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road
from his own pocket between 1858 and 1859. For the remainder of the road, the arsenal
supplied the gunpowder and the Trabzon provincial government provided 395 liras. Yet,
winter conditions forced the governor to pause the construction.13
10 PMOA, I.DH 415/27462, 2 Rebiyülevvel 1275 (10 October 1858)
11 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860)
12 PMOA, A.DVN.MHM 28/88, 18 Safer 1276 (16 September 1859)
13 PMOA, I.MMS 19/845, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860)
120
Construction restarted in 1860 based on the rules set by the 1853 Road Charter,
which authorized the use of forced labor. Accordingly, the central treasury paid for the
bread, gunpowder, and other equipment which was necessary for road-building, and the
residents of the region constructed the road itself.14 The arsenal offered free gunpowder
and the governor of Trabzon Izzet Pasha gave 150 liras from his own pocket for the part
of the road between Incirlik and Ayvasıl, which took an hour to travel.15 Baron Julius von
Minutoli who led a Prussian mission to Persia reports that the governor spent 180 liras in
total.16
Since the construction was too expensive, officials started considering alternatives
to reduce costs in 1860. One option was the collection of an affordable toll from
travelers. After all, Trabzon-Erzurum road was an important route not only for Erzurum,
but also for Van and other eastern Anatolian provinces. Moreover, it was the only route
used by merchants and residents from surrounding regions. It was, therefore, necessary to
keep the road in good condition at all times.17 Yet, almost two years after construction
started (1858), the road had still not reached Cevizlik which was only six hours away
from Trabzon. This must have been the reason behind Ottoman authorities’ consideration
of alternative ways of accelerating the construction. Moreover, since not only Trabzon
residents but also Ottoman subjects living in other eastern provinces were the
14 Ibid.
15 Ibid.; PMOA, MVL 601/90, 24 Muharrem 1277 (12 August 1860); PMOA, I.DH 472/31663, 10 Zilkade
1277 (20 May 1861)
16 İlhan Pınar, ed., 19. Yüzyıl Anadolu Şehirleri (İzmir: Akademi Kitabevi, 1998), 111.
17 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 415/55, 1276 (1860), no specific date
121
beneficiaries of the road, officials hoped that these people would also contribute to the
construction by paying a toll.
In 1859, some people in Cevizlidere (also called Cevizdere or Mühürcü), four
hours to the south of Trabzon city center, had already started collecting a transit tax (bac
rüsumu) from travelers commuting between Trabzon and Erzurum. According to the
Grand Council, merchants who bought domestically produced goods in order to sell them
in Ottoman markets were obliged to pay this transit tax.18 Therefore, this procedure
continued for another two years even though it was disliked by Ottoman merchants who
felt discriminated against foreign merchants who did no have to pay the transit tax.
Merchants argued that such transit taxes had been cancelled in Thrace and demanded
similar privileges. The Grand Council, however, approved the right of Altıparmakzade
Abdülgarip Agha who tax-farmed the collection of the transit tax in 1858 for 282 liras
under the assurance (kefalet) of Hacı Halil Agha.19
In 1861, the collection of the transit tax was still a contentious issue among the
residents of Erzurum and Trabzon provinces who signed a collective petition, also
complaining about the illegal collection of a toll from travelers. According to the petition,
certain individuals who had settled in Cevizlidere just a few years ago demanded that
travelers pay five piasters to continue their journey. Seeking justice, the residents of the
two provinces asked the central authorities to put an end to this practice and punish these
individuals. They also asked Istanbul to warn Cemal Pasha, the governor of Trabzon,
18 PMOA, MVL 583/58, 24 Recep 1275 (27 February 1859)
19 PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 106/1, 15 Şaban 1275 (20 March 1859)
122
who seemed to overlook this injustice which had been going on for a couple of years.20
Remembering that the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road started in 1857, only a
year before this incident, we can hypothesize that some people attempted to take
advantage of the anticipated increase in traffic. Such a motive can explain why this
incident coincided with the early phases of the construction.21
Two years later, the problem had not yet been resolved. In the meantime, taxfarmer
Aziz Agha had paid 350 liras in a new auction held in 1861 to attain the right to
collect the transit tax. Mustafa Effendi, a merchant and the son of Altıparmakzade Hacı
Halil Agha –another member of the previous tax-farmer’s family-, was Aziz Agha’s
guarantor. In the meantime, the complaints from two years ago revealed that Aziz Agha
was responsible for the illegal collection of the toll and demanded bribes from anyone
who needed to pass through Cevizlidere in addition to the actual transit tax. He had
previously been summoned to Trabzon for interrogation, but had denied the accusations.
As there was no further evidence against him besides verbal accusations, he was released
and returned to Cevizlidere.22
In 1863, when imperial Russia was trying to attract to its territories Iranian transit
trade merchants who used the Trabzon-Bayezid road in order to reach European
20 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 525/54, 14 Cemaziyülahır 1278 (17 December 1861)
21 This story also presents an example where local people appealed to Istanbul in order to solve a provincial
problem rather than directly contacting the governor of Trabzon. Archival materials do not yield much
information as to whether or not the governor supported the individuals responsible for the collection of the
toll; but this example demonstrates how a local initiative (in this case writing a collective petition) was able
to draw attention from Istanbul as opposed to common perceptions of the imperial center which necessarily
and forcibly imposed its authority on local politics. The fact that commoners asked for actual central state
involvement in the provinces will be further discussed in the epilogue.
22 PMOA, MVL 649/48, 22 Zilhicce 1279 (10 June 1863); PMOA, I.MVL 486/22050, 13 Muharrem 1280
(30 June 1863)
123
markets,23 this situation constituted a huge risk to the Iranian trade which passed through
the Ottoman Empire. In this context, Ottoman authorities considered the toll that Aziz
Agha collected as a remnant from feudal times when privileges passed from father to son
(eski derebeylik zamanından kalmış bir teamül-i mütebenni).24 This discourse is very
similar to that of the 1839 Tanzimat Edict:
Although, thank God, the people of our well-protected dominions already
have been delivered from the scourge of monopolies, which previously
were thought to be (suitable) revenues, the harmful system of tax farms,
which never has produced useful fruit and is highly injurious, still is in use.
This means handing over the political and financial affairs of a state to the
will of a man and perhaps to the grip of compulsion and subjugation, for if
he is not a good man, he will care only for his own benefit, and all his
actions will be oppressive. Hereafter, therefore, it is necessary that every
one of the people shall be assigned a suitable tax according to his
possessions and ability, and nothing more shall be taken by anyone, and
that the necessary expenditures for our land and sea forces as well as for
other matters also shall be limited and set by the appropriate laws.25
Given the fact that Istanbul government started executing the 1839 Tanzimat Edict
in the provinces only in the 1860s, this resemblance between the two discourses should
not be a coincidence.
Apart from the “tyranny” of the tax-farmers, it was also illegal to impose duties
on goods once they entered the Ottoman territories. In other words, the circulation of
goods within the Ottoman borders was to be free from any charges. Moreover, the
Trabzon-Bayezid road was a public road; therefore all travelers should theoretically have
free access to it. Under these circumstances, it was clear that the collection of both the
23 For further information see Chapter Four.
24 PMOA, MVL 649/48, 22 Zilhicce 1279 (10 June 1863); PMOA, I.MVL 486/22050, 13 Muharrem 1280
(30 June 1863)
25 Shaw, History of the Ottoman Empire and Modern Turkey, 60.
124
toll and transit taxes served only the personal interests of tax-farmer Aziz Agha (menafi-i
zatiyeden başka bir şey düşünmeyen mültezim takımı). Therefore, it was necessary to
annul the auction from two years ago. Once that was done, if the money accumulated by
Aziz Agha equaled the amount that he had submitted to the provincial treasury as the
appropriate transit tax, then authorities would not need to take any further action.
However, if he had embezzled some of the money, Aziz Agha would have to pay it
back.26
At this point, it is worth mentioning how changing historical circumstances
caused a radical shift in the Ottoman state’s attitude. While the petition from the residents
of Trabzon and Erzurum had not been enough to prove and put an end to the illegal
actions of Aziz Agha, a possible Russian competition in 1863 was sufficient enough not
only to stop him from collecting the illegal toll, but also to annul the auction from two
years ago, which gave him the right to collect the transit tax.
In conclusion, the collection of a toll was ruled out as an option because of fears
that this might decrease the number of travelers and shift the Iranian transit trade to
Transcaucasia.27 Therefore in 1863, authorities started thinking of alternative means of
financing the road because it continued to be a burden on the central treasury. If Istanbul
government continued to fund the construction as usual, then the state would need a
yearly budget of 125,000 liras (30,000 keses) for the next three years. Only 155 liras of
26 PMOA, MVL 649/48, 22 Zilhicce 1279 (10 June 1863); PMOA, I.MVL 486/22050, 13 Muharrem 1280
(30 June 1863)
27 For a similar concern about collecting a toll from the travelers in the mid-nineteenth century United
States see Howard, 65.
125
this amount covered the daily wages of workers.28 Meanwhile, the Grand Council had
decided to increase the monthly stipend of a certain engineer called Mehmet Effendi from
3.5 to 10 liras and rejected the initial suggestion to raise it to 18 liras.29 In other words,
the annual amount that the Ottoman state spent for wage labor (155 liras) was almost
equal to the yearly earnings of only one engineer (120 liras). This huge discrepancy
between the incomes of unskilled workers and technical personnel can account for the
high costs of the construction.
One way to reduce the expenses was to contract the construction to private
companies.30 It is for this purpose that a certain Monsieur Loren from France petitioned
the Ottoman government and demanded permission to establish a company to construct
the Trabzon-Erzurum road.31 Officials rejected this proposal because it would jeopardize
the military significance attached to the road. At the time of Monsieur Loren’s petition,
Ottoman statesmen had been considering the construction of new fortifications on the
eastern frontier. If these fortifications were built, then the Trabzon-Erzurum road would
be the main route to transport soldiers and weapons there. Under these circumstances,
giving the responsibility to construct the road to a foreign company would be too risky.32
28 PMOA, MVL 649/37, 21 Zilhicce 1279 (9 June 1863); PMOA, I.MVL 486/22024, 1 Muharrem 1280 (18
June 1863); PMOA, I.DH 516/35125, 2 Cemaziyülevvel 1280 (15 October 1863)
29 PMOA, I.MVL 497/22469, 12 Cemaziyülâhır 1280 (24 November 1863)
30 PMOA, MVL 649/37, 21 Zilhicce 1279 (9 June 1863); PMOA, I.MVL 486/22024, 1 Muharrem 1280 (18
June 1863); PMOA, I.DH 516/35125, 2 Cemaziyülevvel 1280 (15 October 1863)
31 PMOA, MVL 652/118, 29 Safer 1280 (15 August 1863)
32 PMOA, I.MMS 28/1207, 11 Şevval 1280 (20 March 1864)
126
Meanwhile, Trabzon Governor Emin Pasha also asked Istanbul government for
permission to spend money from the provincial treasury for mining sewers, breaking
stones, and raising walls and bridges along the road. The local government needed this
money in order to pay the stipends of stonemasons and other craftsmen, and to cover the
costs of the gunpowder and equipment. These were, in fact, aspects of the construction
that contractors chosen by the state through public auction were supposed to carry out
according to the eleventh article of the 1861 Road Charter. Therefore, the Grand Council
did not authorize the disbursement of money from the provincial treasury.33
In 1864, 163,521 liras were needed for the construction of the road. If the state
used forced labor for construction (98,250 man-days or approximately 4,910 men), the
amount of money needed would only be 65,319 liras. This would save the state up to
100,000 liras. Based on this calculation, if Istanbul government spent approximately
20,000 liras each year, then the construction could finish within the next three years.34 In
the meantime, authorities invited French engineer Monsieur Tevenin to Trabzon in order
to speed up the construction. Tevenin was considered a good candidate as he was already
used to Ottoman manners and customs (adet-i memleketi öğrenmiş), and proved his
experience and mastership in road-building in other parts of the empire (for example the
Beirut-Damascus road). The contract offered him a yearly stipend of 600 liras (15,000
Francs which was five times more than the salary of the Ottoman engineer Mehmet
Effendi who had been mentioned earlier) for the next four years, a travel allowance of 80
33 PMOA, I.MVL 497/22469, 12 Cemaziyülâhır 1280 (24 November 1863)
34 PMOA, HR.TO 445/18, 27 March 1864
127
liras (2,000 Francs) for his journey from Paris to Trabzon, and the equipment necessary
for road-building.35
Monsieur Tevenin accepted the offer and shortly after asked for another 1,000
liras for the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road because Ottoman officials had
already exhausted the money for other purposes such as the construction of Samsun
harbor.36 Monsieur Tevenin also demanded from the Minister of Finance to receive a
portion of his stipend in advance. When the ministry did not respond to this request, he
sent a complaint letter to the Sublime Porte. In this letter, Tevenin warned the
government that the survey (keşif) of the road would be postponed until next spring
unless he immediately received the money and could leave Istanbul before winter.37
Meanwhile, officials considered other ways of reducing the high costs of the
construction. One option was to use forced labor again –as it happened in Bursa and
Kastamonu provinces- according to the 1861 Charter.38 Another option was to change the
route of the Trabzon-Erzurum road. There were three alternatives. The first was to stick
to the current route which passed through Gümüşhane. The second was to connect
Trabzon first to Sürmene on the Black Sea coast and then from there on directly to
Erzurum.39 Under these circumstances, the travel from Trabzon to Erzurum would take
35 PMOA, I.MMS 28/1207, 11 Şevval 1280 (20 March 1864); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 296/69, 29 Şevval
1280 (7 April 1864)
36 PMOA, MVL 697/56, 20 Şevval 1281 (18 March 1865); PMOA, I.MVL 530/23768, 2 Zilkade 1281 (29
March 1865)
37 PMOA, HR.TO 446/14, 28 June 1864
38 PMOA, I.MMS 28/1207, 11 Şevval 1280 (20 March 1864)
39 PMOA, I.MVL 512/23093, 12 Safer 1281 (17 July 1864)
128
twelve hours less, and the cost of the construction would be reduced in half.40 The last
option was to link Trabzon first to Rize through a new road and then to build another
road from Rize to Erzurum. In this case, Rize would be the new harbor of both Erzurum
and Trabzon provinces.41
Monsieur Tevenin and Feyzi Pasha were supposed to inspect all three routes and
then choose a preferred route based on the approximate costs of the construction and the
estimated income that all three alternative roads would generate. Additionally, Feyzi
Pasha was responsible for consulting the governors of the districts (kaymakam) through
which each route passed so that he could create an inventory of all the men between the
ages of eighteen and sixty who lived in these districts and could serve as forced labor.
Monsieur Tevenin and Feyzi Pasha were required to reach a decision by September 1864
and report it to the Ministry of Public Works who would first consult the Council of
Roads and Bridges (Meclis-i Maabir) and then inform the Sublime Port on the subject.
The Sublime Port would give the final decision and inform both Monsieur Tevenin and
Feyzi Pasha so that they could start construction on the chosen route.42 Monsieur Tevenin
and Feyzi Pasha received 250 liras from Erzurum and Erzincan treasuries in order to
conduct the survey.43
Regardless of the preferred route, the construction required the employment of six
engineers and four conductors from France for the period between July 15th and August
40 PMOA, I.MMS 28/1207, 11 Şevval 1280 (20 March 1864)
41 PMOA, I.MVL 512/23093, 12 Safer 1281 (17 July 1864)
42 Ibid.
43 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 318/8, 15 Cemaziyülahır 1281 (15 November 1864)
129
20th 1864. Monsieur Tevenin chose these officials based on their experience and the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs declared the Ottoman consulate in Paris responsible for their
employment. The monthly stipend of two chief engineers (baş mühendis) was 36.3 liras
(which corresponded to a yearly stipend of 10,000 Francs), that of the other four
engineers was 21.6 liras (which corresponded to a yearly stipend of 6,000 Francs), and
that of the conductors was 14.5 liras (which corresponded to a yearly stipend of 4,000
Francs). Additionally, the two chief engineers obtained a travel allowance of 56 liras
(1,400 Francs), the other four engineers 32 liras (800 Francs), and the conductors 24 liras
(600 Francs). The Ottoman state paid for the tents and horses that each French official
needed. The significance and the length of the Trabzon-Erzurum road necessitated and
justified these expensive stipends. Moreover, the Council of Roads and Bridges stated
that it would be too inappropriate to offer less money to foreign officials who had to
leave their home countries in order to work in the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum
road.44
Furthermore, the Ministry of Public Works needed two Ottoman draughts-men
(ressam), two Ottoman clerks (katip), one Ottoman accountant (muhasib), and eight
Ottoman translators (tercüman). Their monthly stipend was determined as 12, 10, 20, 7.5
liras respectively (these amounts corresponded to yearly stipends of 3300, 2960, 5500,
and 2070 Francs respectively). Together, the total sum of the monthly stipends paid to
these twenty-three French and Ottoman officials amounted to 341 liras. In addition, the
state spent 1,000 liras in order to hire unskilled laborers who put up stakes and
transported tools like pickaxes, shovels, and chains, which the Imperial Arsenal bought
44 PMOA, I.MVL 512/23093, 12 Safer 1281 (17 July 1864)
130
for 2,000 liras. Finally, a few students from the Imperial Engineering School
accompanied Feyzi Pasha during the construction so that they could observe the roadbuilding
process on site and gain experience and practice. These students were eventually
expected to work as either road engineers or teachers of engineering, thereby allowing the
state to avoid paying expensive stipends to foreign engineers in the future. Finally, fifteen
sergeant cavaliers chosen by the Trabzon and Erzurum provincial governments protected
the construction site.45
In 1865, there was such a pressing need for money that neighboring provinces had
to provide financial support to the construction. Sivas sub-province promised to donate
5,000 liras from its tax revenue of domesticated animals (ağnam rüsumu) to the Trabzon-
Erzurum road and by the end of the year, 3,000 liras had already been given. Other subprovinces
including Bayezid and Muş provided 1,000 liras.46 Yet, the state still needed an
additional 31,050 liras in order to complete the construction.47 Meanwhile, the Ottoman
representative on commerce (şehbender) in Marseilles asked Istanbul to send him 1,000
liras (25,000 Francs) so that he could buy certain equipment necessary for the
construction. The representative only received 600 liras (15,000 Francs) from the
Ottoman Bank’s branch in Marseilles upon which he wrote to the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs in Istanbul and asked that the mistake be fixed.48 A few weeks later, the
45 PMOA, MVL 678/24, 26 Muharrem 1281 (1 July 1864); PMOA, I.MVL 512/23093, 12 Safer 1281 (17
July 1864); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 313/25, 26 Rebiyülahır 1281 (28 September 1864)
46 PMOA, C.NF 31, 8 Safer 1282 (3 July 1865); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 341/55, 21 Rebiyülahır 1282 (13
September 1865); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 346/58, 23 Recep 1282 (12 December 1865)
47 PMOA, C.NF 31, 8 Safer 1282 (3 July 1865)
48 PMOA, HR.TO 324/72, 20 May 1865; PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 332/82, 26 Zilhicce 1281 (22 May 1865)
131
representative received the rest of the money and the Ottoman Bank promised to send
another 1,000 liras until June 22nd 1865.49
When construction finally restarted on September 15th 186550, Istanbul had to
revise the previous year’s plans. The Grand Council now hoped to finish the section
between Erzurum and Bayburt in four consecutive years. The survey of this section cost
130,000 liras and the 34.5 tons51 (27,000 kıyye52 - 76,000 pounds) of gunpowder that was
needed was provided by the Imperial Arsenal. The cost of the construction was 82,350
liras, of which 6,500 liras covered the stipends of clerks and other officials.53 For the
construction of other sections in 1865, authorities allocated 14,583 liras (3,500 kese); but
they spent only 8,333 liras (2,000 kese) of this amount when workers completed a section
of the road that took two hours to travel. Officials allotted the rest of the money -6,250
liras (1,500 kese)- and an additional amount of 30,000 liras (7,200 kese) to the budget for
1866. They hoped to finish the construction in five years.54
In 1867, a disagreement arose between the Istanbul government and the provincial
government of Trabzon. The provincial government argued that the central treasury had
failed to send the 500 liras that the sub-province Muş had provided for the Trabzon-
Erzurum road two years ago. Instead, the central treasury had used the money to pay the
49 PMOA, HR.TO 492/72, 7 June 1865
50 PMOA, I.DH 541/37628, 12 Cemaziyülevvel 1282 (3 October 1865)
51 “Ton” will indicate the “metric ton” throughout the rest of this dissertation.
52 Kıyye was used interchangeably with okka which was 1,283 grams. See Parlatır, Osmanlı Türkçesi
Sözlüğü.
53 PMOA, I.MVL 537/24148, 4 Rebiyülâhır 1282 (27 August 1865)
54 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 355/96, 1 Muharrem 1283 (16 May 1866)
132
interest of the internal debt (esham-ı umumiye faizi). Therefore, officials advocated
postponing the payment of some salaries for the next few months in order to compensate
for the loss of the Trabzon-Erzurum road budget.55 Two years later (1869), the state
estimated that the construction would be finished in four years, with a total spending of
20,833 liras (5,000 kese) each year.56
Even after the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road was officially over in
1871, the Ottoman state continued to spend tremendous amounts of money for the
maintenance and repair of the road. In 1875 for example, Istanbul government gave
Erzurum and Trabzon provinces 100 liras and 300 liras respectively for the repair of the
road. Additionally, the two provinces still needed another 1,500-2,000 liras.57 In 1879,
Ismail Hakkı Pasha, the governor of Erzurum, reported that the Trabzon-Erzurum road
had once again deteriorated. The repair of both the khans and the road would require
1,500 liras even if forced labor was used during the construction. Since Bayburt and
Erzurum municipal treasuries were not responsible to cover these expenditures, the
central treasury was supposed to find the necessary money.58
Meanwhile, other state officials were considering the construction of a railroad
line between Trabzon and Erzurum. Until its completion however, the Trabzon-Erzurum
road was expected to stay in good condition. The recent Russo-Ottoman War of 1877-
55 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 375/97, 29 Şevval 1283 (6 March 1867)
56 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 435/82, 6 Zilkade 1285 (18 February 1869); PMOA, I.DH 587/40828, 24 Şevval
1285 (7 February 1869)
57 PMOA, I.MMS 53/2332, 28 Cemaziyülâhır 1292 (1 August 1875); PMOA, BEO.AYN.d 1003, 7 Recep
192 (9 August 1875)
58 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/23, 12 Muharrem 1296 (6 January 1879)
133
1878 and the general financial crisis of the mid-1870s (the Ottoman Empire had declared
bankruptcy in 1875) had prevented the regular repair of the road which had deteriorated
so much that at certain points two muleteers could not pass at the same without crashing
into each other. Trabzon provincial government had subsidized the repair of the road
within its borders by its own means since March 1878. By October 1879 however, the
province still needed 5,000 liras to finish the repair; moreover, the reconstruction in
Erzurum demanded 5,600 liras.59
In response, the Ministry of Public Works sent only a total of 2,890 liras to both
provinces; but the Ministry of Finance –arbitrarily or not- failed to attach the official
permission to use the money. Eventually, the governor of Erzurum Mustafa Pasha
demanded that Istanbul employ two conductors to make a survey of the road at Vavuk
Mountain, which marked the borderline between Trabzon and Erzurum provinces. The
results of their survey would reveal the exact number of workers and the exact amount of
money required for the repair.60
Walls, bridges, khans, and trackwalkers’ huts between Vavuk Mountain and
Erzurum needed repair as well. 1,282 liras were needed for the walls and bridges, and
huts required a budget of 522 liras. The reconstruction of the road would take 72,000
man-days in total (3,600 men). If Istanbul decided to use forced labor again as it did
during previous years, then officials would save up to 3,600 liras. Otherwise, they would
have to pay a daily wage of five piasters in order to hire workers. Additionally, the
equipment necessary for the repair cost 200 liras. In short, the repair required 5,605 liras
59 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
60 Ibid.
134
in total and the most deteriorated sections ought to be ready for the passage of caravans
as soon as possible. Otherwise, the road’s delayed renovation would cost more money as
the snow and floods of the upcoming winter would cause further damage. Therefore,
there was urgent need at least for half of the above mentioned 5,605 liras.61
Four years later in 1884, authorities also started considering the renovation of the
road between Erzurum and Bayezid. Thanks to the forced labor system, they estimated
the construction to finish in two years, with a cost of 5,400 liras. The rest of the road
between Trabzon and Erzurum needed repair as well.62 In reality however, only 800
meters (0.5 miles) were renovated between Erzurum and Bayezid, two bridges were
repaired, and a new bridge was constructed in Hasankale in 1884.63
The frequency of damages on the road caused a financial constraint on not only
the state but also civilian Ottoman subjects who turned to Istanbul for compensation.
Yunuszade Abdurrahman Effendi was the contractor for Trabzon’s overnight rest area for
mail-carriers (menzilhane) when the road between Trabzon and Gümüşhane got damaged
because of the recent floods in 1892. The alternative route that passed through Boztepe
was too steep to be convenient for postal caravans. Therefore, Abdurrahman Effendi
needed two additional drivers and pack animals to deliver the mail without delay for the
following eight months via this road. He wrote a petition and asked for 209.5 liras to
make up for the extra cost of the two additional drivers and animals. Trabzon’s provincial
61 Ibid.
62 PMOA, I.MMS 78/3421, 21 Ramazan 1301 (15 July 1884)
63 “Report by Consul Everett on the Trade and Commerce of the Districts Composing the Kurdistan
Consulate for 1884,” in Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of
Their Consular Districts, Part IX, London: Harrison and Sons, August 1885, p. 1930.
135
assembly approved Abdurrahman Effendi’s petition and confirmed his need for money
due to the extraordinary weather conditions and the steepness and length of the
alternative Boztepe road. In the end, the Council of State provided Abdurrahman Effendi
with the necessary money.64
The high cost of maintaining the road led authorities to think of alternative means
of repair. First, the Fourth Army tried to gain control of the Trabzon-Erzurum road in
1892.65 The Fourth Army accused the engineer and the conductor of the road of
neglecting the necessary repairs and thus causing a delay in the transportation of eight
cannons. Consequently, the Fourth Army wanted its own military personnel to supervise
the road, including the organization of forced labor. They also wanted to be responsible
for assigning contractors (if the number of the forced laborers proved to be insufficient)
and for maintaining the road after its repair.66 The road tax collected in Erzurum could
cover the stipends of the two military personnel that the Fourth Army wanted to employ
for this purpose.67
Another possibility was to give a concession to a company for 20-25 years. The
company would undertake the repair of the road during this period. Meanwhile, the
governor of Trabzon wanted to include a change in the route of the road as one of the
64 PMOA, DH.MKT 2020/26, 23 Rebiyülâhır 1310 (14 November 1892); PMOA, DH.MKT 16/26, 15
Zilkade 1310 (30 June 1893)
65 Previously, the Fourth Army had become responsible for the maintenance of the Trabzon-Erzurum road
in 1874 as well. Tozlu, Trabzon-Erzurum-Bayezid Yolu (1850-1900), 90.
66 PMOA, BEO 12/898, 6 Zilkade 1309 (2 June 1892); PMOA, BEO 49/3618, 18 Muharrem 1310 (12
August 1892)
67 PMOA, BEO 91/6781, 27 Rebiyülevvel 1310 (19 October 1892); PMOA, BEO 101/7531, 15 Rebiyülâhır
1310 (6 November 1892)
136
articles of the proposed concession. According to the governor, the dirt and the small
stones, which constantly rolled down the mountains and overfilled the ditches, were one
of the main reasons the road deteriorated so frequently.68 In 1892, the provincial
government in Trabzon also suggested employing sixteen repairmen and two conductors
who would be responsible for the maintenance of the 160 kilometers (100 miles) long
section of the road in Trabzon. The repairmen would receive a stipend of 1.5 liras and the
conductors 5 liras. The conductors’ job was to travel along the road to supervise the
repairmen. The stone huts, which were located along the road for the repairmen and the
conductors to sleep in, also needed repair. The road tax collected from the population of
Trabzon would finance these costs.69
The Ministry of Public Works was aware of the fact that Trabzon lacked the
necessary number of technical personnel, which delayed the repair process. The few
engineers and conductors that the province hired were already busy working in other
projects. Yet the ministry could not afford hiring other technicians because of financial
constraints. For similar reasons, the employment of military personnel –as suggested by
the Fourth Army- was also impossible.70 Therefore, the ministry rejected the demands of
both the Fourth Army and the Trabzon provincial government.
In 1898, the provincial government in Erzurum once more needed to repair the
Trabzon road. They also intended to start the construction of the Bayezid road very soon.
68 PMOA, BEO 91/6781, 27 Rebiyülevvel 1310 (19 October 1892)
69 PMOA, BEO 101/7531, 15 Rebiyülâhır 1310 (6 November 1892)
70 PMOA, BEO 49/3618, 18 Muharrem 1310 (12 August 1892)
137
The governor asked the Ministry of Interior for financial help;71 but the construction of
the road between Erzurum, Pasinler, and Bayezid did not actually start until 1902.72 Last
but not least, in 1902, the Ottoman state concluded that the iron rings of old carriage
wheels were one of the main causes of the roads’ deterioration in the province of
Erzurum where 3,000-4,000 liras were spent for repairs every year. These old-fashioned
wheels did not only create holes on the surface of the roads, but they were also an extra
burden on draft animals. Farmers were unable to load their carriages to full capacity
because of the heavy weight of these iron rings. In the end, the provincial assembly of
Erzurum banned coachmen from manufacturing and using these wheels in order to reduce
the annual cost of repairing the Trabzon road.73
Finally, in 1909, the Ottoman state gave a concession to a French firm to construct
roads throughout Asia Minor (900 kilometers / 560 miles). Similar concessions were
given to a German firm to build roads in Thrace (1,014 kilometers / 630 miles). The
French firm was also responsible for the repair of the Trabzon-Erzurum road.74 Since the
Erzurum-Bayezid section was a provincial road (vilayet yolları) –and not a
public/imperial road (turuk-i umumi)-, only the province of Erzurum remained
responsible for its construction and repair.75 As for the Trabzon-Erzurum section, it
71 PMOA, DH.TMIK.S 19/21, 13 Muharrem 1316 (3 June 1898)
72 PMOA, Y.MTV 237/99, 28 Ramazan 1320 (29 December 1902)
73 PMOA, DH.MKT 473/70, 28 Zilhicce 1319 (7 April 1902)
74 Foreign Office and the Board of Trade, Diplomatic and Consular Reports, Turkey, Report for the Year
1909-1910 on the Trade and Commerce of the Trebizond Vilayet, Annual Series No. 4740, London, July
1911, p. 7.
75 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 737/28, 20 Şaban 1329 (16 August 1911)
138
would be rebuilt by the French Company La Société des Entreprises. But the company
worked very slowly and only 6-7 miles near Maçka were completed in 1911.76 Most
likely, this was the reason why the Ministry of Commerce and Public Works decided to
hand over the construction and repair of roads to the Imperial Roads Company (Turuk-u
Umumiye Şirketi) in the early 1910s. The company prepared 2,675 cubic meters (23,134
barrels) of broken (kırılmış) stones and 14,576 cubic meters (126,060 barrels) of rough
stones (ham taş) for the repair of the 18.9 kilometer (eleven miles) long section of the
Trabzon-Erzurum road.77
Disagreements between Istanbul and provincial governments also exacerbated the
financial problems. Central authorities’ disregard of local circumstances was one of the
main reasons for these conflicts. For example, in 1909, the newly-established Ottoman
parliament asked ministries to prepare budgets on a monthly basis. As a result, the
Ministry of Public Works divided Erzurum’s budget into twelve equal parts, even though
the province could build roads during only 4-5 months of a given year because of harsh
weather conditions. As frost was about to hit the region soon, the ministry’s expectation
to finish the construction of roads only in a few months was completely unrealistic.78
In 1911, the budget of Erzurum reserved only eight thousand liras for the
construction of roads while only the repair of already existing ones required half of this
amount. The rest (four thousand liras) would be enough for the construction of only 6-7
76 Foreign Office and the Board of Trade, Diplomatic and Consular Reports, Turkey, Report for the Year
1910-1911 on the Trade and Commerce of the Vilayet of Trebizond, Annual Series No. 5014, London,
October 1912, p. 7.
77 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
78 PMOA, DH.MUI 10-2/7, 1 Ramazan 1327 (16 September 1909)
139
kilometers (3-4 miles) of new roads whereas the province needed at least two thousand
kilometers (1,242 miles). In other words, a total of approximately 800,000 liras was
needed. Under these circumstances and given the dire financial constraints, even the
construction of village roads would take more than five centuries according to the
governor of Erzurum.79
In reality, the cost of building Erzurum-Rize road alone was estimated at 113,820
liras. An additional 200,675 liras was needed for the Erzurum-Bayezid road. Given the
current budget, the former would finish in fourteen years and the latter in twenty-five.
Since neither of these was an imperial road (turuk-u umumiye), only Erzurum province
could finance their construction. In other words, the province was not allowed to find
outside funding to subsidize the construction. However, if Istanbul government upgraded
the status of these two routes to imperial roads, then the Imperial Roads Company could
cover the costs.80
According to Governor Mehmet Emin, it was paradoxical, illogical, and unfair to
classify the section of the Rize-Erzurum road between Rize and Ispir as an imperial road
and the section between Ispir and Erzurum as a village road (turuk-u hususiye).81 This
case was in fact another example which showed how central authorities had a hard time
in understanding local circumstances and taking them into consideration while making
plans for public works. The town of Ispir was on the border which separated Trabzon
from Erzurum. Thus, while the part of the Erzurum-Rize road which was within the
79 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
80 Ibid.
81 Ibid.
140
provincial boundaries of Trabzon was regarded as an imperial road until Ispir, the other
half which belonged to Erzurum province was identified only as a village road.
According to the governor, if under these circumstances, Erzurum failed to build
the road until Ispir due to lack of money, Lazistan sub-province –which was officially
part of Trabzon- would also be unable to benefit from the other half of the road between
Rize and Ispir.82 Finally, Istanbul government solved the crisis and passed two
consecutive laws which classified the part of the road between Erzurum and Ispir as an
imperial road as well.83 The Erzurum-Bayezid section, however, was never categorized as
an imperial road. Therefore, only Erzurum remained responsible for its construction, a
factor which delayed and prevented substantial work to be done on this route.84
Thus, by 1914, the Ottoman state still faced lots of financial problems caused by
the high costs of constructing and repairing the road. Until the early 1890s, authorities did
not follow a standardized policy but experimented with a variety of solutions in order to
reduce the costs –ranging from collecting a toll to improving the quality of coach wheels
used along this route. Starting in the 1890s however, the Ottoman state tried to eliminate
the forced labor system and replace it with the monetized form of road taxation. The goal
was to use the collected cash to finance contractors. In other words, at the turn of the
twentieth century, there was a trend to privatize road-building projects by transferring the
responsibility from the state to civil entrepreneurs. These two topics, the collection of the
82 Ibid.
83 Düstur, Tertip 2, Cilt 5, 27 Şaban 1331 / 18 Temmuz 1329 (1 August 1913), p. 581; Düstur, Tertip 2, Cilt
6, 3 Ramazan 1332 / 13 Temmuz 1330 (26 July 1914), p. 937
84 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
141
road tax and the employment of contractors, will be discussed in the following two
sections.
Abuse and Manipulation of the Road Tax System:
In 1889, the village headman (muhtar) of Torul district sent a petition to the
provincial government in Trabzon. According to the petition, the road engineer in
Gümüşhane was forcing the residents of Torul to work in the construction and repair of
roads which were too far from their homes. The engineer also demanded bribes from
residents to exempt them from forced labor.85 It is not clear how the governor responded
to this petition; however, this case is important for demonstrating that locals were aware
of their rights and obligations concerning compulsory labor and could raise their voices if
officials acted unlawfully.
As a matter of fact, 1889 was the year when Ottoman subjects earned the right to
choose between forced labor and the road tax, thus changing the 1869 Road Charter
which required every man to work in the service of the state for road-building projects.86
Two years later (1891), half of the population in Trabzon chose to pay the road tax while
the other half opted to work as forced labor. Meanwhile, Istanbul was thinking of
gradually privatizing the construction of roads and allowing contractors to build roads.
Given the tendencies of the population, the Ministry of Commerce and Public Works was
concerned that the high number of people who wanted to work as forced labor would
discourage the contractors as authorities would fail to collect enough road tax to finance
85 PMOA, DH.MKT 1646/11, 7 Zilhicce 1306 (4 August 1889)
86 Tozlu, Trabzon-Erzurum-Bayezid Yolu (1850-1900), 25.
142
them.87 Thus, there was a gradual change in the state’s conceptualization of how to
finance public works. Whereas the Ottoman state mainly relied on the use of forced labor
between 1869 and 1889, after this date they sought other ways of conducting road work,
namely collecting the road tax and hiring contractors, thus privatizing road-building
projects.
In 1891, half of Trabzon’s population who wanted to serve as forced labor lived in
villages which were 15-20 hours away from the construction site. This made the
organization of their dispatch too difficult, so the provincial government in Trabzon
asked Istanbul’s permission to collect the road tax from everyone. The Minister of
Commerce and Public Works was not sure about how to respond to this request because
Trabzon’s demand would violate Ottoman subjects’ right to choose between the two
alternatives. Therefore, the minister decided to consult the Grand Vizierate.88
We do not know how the Grand Vizierate responded to this request, but only a
year later (1892), the neighboring province of Erzurum asked for permission to do the
opposite: to use the overwhelming majority of its population as compulsory labor rather
than giving them the option to pay the road tax. This incident is another example which
allows us to observe the different social circumstances in the two provinces. Whereas half
of the population in Trabzon could afford the road tax, the residents of Erzurum lived in
much more poverty compared to their neighbors. This constituted a big problem because
the roads in Erzurum were of utmost military significance given their proximity to the
Russian and Iranian borders. Under these circumstances, contractors would not repair
87 PMOA, SD 1192/21, 11 Zilkade 1308 (18 June 1891)
88 Ibid.
143
roads because the limited amount of road tax collected from the residents of Erzurum
would not be enough to finance their work. Consequently, even though both newspapers
and muezzins spread the news that the government was looking for contractors, no
entrepreneur responded to this announcement. Therefore the state needed to employ
technical personnel (memurin-i fenniye) with a monthly stipend of 70 liras to repair the
road and make up for the absence of contractors.89
In 1892, ninety percent of Erzurum’s population wanted to serve as forced labor
rather than paying the road tax. This meant that while most residents of other provinces
paid the road tax, Erzurum emerged as an exception. Certain parts of the province were
among the poorest regions of the empire, therefore Erzurum claimed to have the right to
be “an exception to the rule” (muamele-i istisnaiye). Local authorities had already failed
to collect the tax for the last three years –ever since Ottoman subjects had earned the right
to choose between forced labor and the road tax. Under these circumstances, insistence
on collecting money from the populace would only result in further delays in road
constructions.90
The governor’s request to allow people to work as forced labor rather than asking
them to pay the tax coincided with the severe drought and the subsequent famine, cholera
epidemic, and migration which struck Erzurum between 1892 and 1894. Therefore, the
central government approved the governor’s request, but also stated that people should
not work in the construction of roads during the harvest so as not to harm agricultural
89 PMOA, DH.MKT 1936/15, 24 Şaban 1309 (24 March 1892); PMOA, SD 1194/31, 6 Zilkade 1309 (2
June 1892)
90 PMOA, BEO 16/1192, 13 Zilkade 1309 (9 June 1892)
144
production.91 Central authorities’ concern about interrupting the agricultural cycle is
proof that Istanbul was in search of a specialized labor force. In an ideal world, some
would be peasants and agriculturally productive whereas road work would be done by a
specialized workforce hired by contractors.
Istanbul government also expected those who were not used to hard labor to pay
the road tax. This money would finance the construction of roads and the stipends of the
technical personnel. If the road tax were not sufficient, the following year’s budget would
cover the expenditures. In 1892, the Ministry of Interior also wanted the Ministry of
Public Works to divide the forced laborers into different groups before the start of the
construction season in June-July. This would allow the construction to begin immediately
once winter was over.92
Meanwhile, Ottoman subjects had been taking full advantage of the freedom they
earned three years ago (1889). While they refused to serve as forced labor –simply
because they did not have to-, they also rejected to pay the tax because they did not have
the financial means to do so. As a strategy, once people figured out that the actual
construction would not start any time soon, they declared that they would prefer to work
as forced labor. Then, when construction started, they changed their minds and wanted to
pay the road tax. When officials finally came to collect the money, they refused to pay
the tax.93 In order to break out of this vicious circle, local power holders tried to prevent
91 Ibid.
92 PMOA, DH.MKT 1936/15, 24 Şaban 1309 (24 March 1892); PMOA, SD 1194/31, 6 Zilkade 1309 (2
June 1892)
93 PMOA, SD 1194/31, 6 Zilkade 1309 (2 June 1892)
145
the arbitrariness of the system by completely disregarding Ottoman subjects’ freedom of
choice. Both Trabzon and Erzurum governments demanded that a fixed policy be
practiced: the whole population of a province should either pay the road tax (as in the
case of Trabzon) or work in road construction (as in the case of Erzurum).
Istanbul, however, sided with Trabzon and preferred that its subjects paid the road
tax rather than working as forced labor. First, this would allow the transfer of roadbuilding
projects to contractors. Second, the organization and the dispatch of forced labor
were already too difficult as proved by previous years’ construction attempts. Last but not
least, as discussed above, when construction coincided with the harvest, this jeopardized
agricultural production because people left their fields in order to work as forced labor.
Yet in reality, most Ottoman subjects were too poor to afford the tax. Therefore, in
practice, the mixed system of compulsory labor along with the collection of the road tax
continued to exist.
In 1893, thirty-six kilometers (twenty-two miles) of the road in Gümüşhane subprovince
needed repair because of heavy snowfall and subsequent floods. The situation
was so bad that the road was totally impassable. Therefore, authorities needed to start
repairs immediately before the construction season was over.94 Theoretically, the
governor of Gümüşhane sub-province (mutasarrıf) was responsible for organizing both
the survey done by engineers and the collection of the road tax. However, by September
1893, there was no money in the road tax budget of Gümüşhane. The governor of
Gümüşhane district (kaymakam) also failed to send forced laborers to the construction
94 PMOA, SD 1199/7, 19 Safer 1311 (1 September 1893); PMOA, DH.MKT 144/40, 22 Rebiyülevvel 1311
(3 October 1893)
146
site. Since the Trabzon-Erzurum road was of utmost significance due to its position as the
connection between two important political and economic centers, it was necessary not to
waste any time in the selection, organization, and dispatch of forced labor.95 Therefore,
the Council of State appointed local notable Arif Effendi with a monthly stipend of 20
liras to deliver the forced laborers, inspect the construction process on site, and collect the
road tax. The revenue from the road tax would cover Arif Bey’s stipend.96
In 1893, Istanbul also faced difficulty in providing ox-carts which would carry
stones and other materials to the construction site. A recent order had abolished Ottoman
subjects’ obligation to give their carts to the service of the state for road-building
projects. Ideally, the road tax collected from the people would finance renting ox-carts;
but in reality, the money that was collected was never enough for this purpose. Therefore,
the provincial government wanted to keep two men living in each district on Erzurum
Plain –which were relatively closer to the road- exempt from forced labor. Instead, these
men would provide the state with their ox-carts. This proposal was in violation of
existing rules and regulations which gave Ottoman subjects the right to choose between
forced labor and the road tax. Therefore, the Ministry of Commerce and Public Works
needed to find other means to finance the use of ox-carts. For this purpose, the ministry
hoped that most people who had initially registered as forced labor would later switch to
95 PMOA, SD 1199/7, 19 Safer 1311 (1 September 1893); PMOA, I.TNF 2/1311.RA.01, 8 Rebiyülevvel
1311 (19 September 1893)
96 PMOA, SD 1199/7, 19 Safer 1311 (1 September 1893); PMOA, DH.MKT 144/40, 22 Rebiyülevvel 1311
(3 October 1893)
147
pay the road tax, as it usually happened. That way, the state would have enough resources
to lease carts.97
The collection of the road tax continued to be a problem in 1896. The residents of
Canik sub-province had recently obtained the right to pay their road tax without late fees
until the end of May 1896. However, by June, many had still not been able to pay off
their debt. Therefore, the Ministry of Commerce and Public Works asked the Council of
State to postpone the collection of the tax until the end of November when it would be
more likely for people to have cash following harvest. The Council of State’s Department
of Interior Affairs (Şura-yı Devlet Dahiliye Dairesi) approved the ministry’s demand and
decided to apply the same exemption for all residents of Trabzon province.98
One year later (1897), some sections of the road in Trabzon province needed
repair. In order to quickly identify the deteriorated parts, trackwalkers had to be
employed. The road tax budget was not enough to finance their employment because
there were still many people who had not paid their tax for the past eight years99 -in other
words, since Ottoman subjects obtained the right to choose between forced labor and the
road tax in 1889. According to the existing regulations, the indebted people were required
to work in the construction of a road for two extra days or pay the equivalent road tax as
punishment. The Council of State, however, blamed the provincial government in
97 PMOA, SD 1198/51, 2 Safer 1311 (15 August 1893); PMOA, BEO 259/19389, 5 Safer 1311 (18 August
1893)
98 PMOA, I.TNF 5/1314.M.02, 19 Muharrem 1314 (30 June 1896); PMOA, BEO 805/60308, 22 Muharrem
1314 (3 July 1896)
99 PMOA, I.TNF 6/1315.S.02, 5 Safer 1315 (6 July 1897); PMOA, BEO 976/73173, 10 Safer 1315 (11 July
1897)
148
Trabzon for its failure to collect the tax and concluded that it would be unfair to punish
people for the local government’s inability. Therefore, the Ministry of Commerce and
Public Works suggested granting a pardon to those who were indebted and the Council
approved the ministry’s suggestion.100
Two years later (1899), the Council once more pardoned Trabzon residents who
were poor and could not afford the road tax.101 Meanwhile, the village watchmen (köy
bekçileri) of the province sent a petition to Istanbul and demanded exemption from
forced labor.102 As was often the case, the provincial government in Trabzon wanted to
pardon its residents who had failed to pay the road tax a year later in 1900. The local
government promised to collect the money from the indebted residents by February 1901
if Istanbul gave assurance that late fees would be canceled.103
In 1901, Erzurum suffered from a major earthquake which shook the city at 5 am
on November 8. The aftershocks continued for another eight days. A thousand houses
were completely destroyed and the rest were seriously damaged. According to the consul
of the United States, there was “hardly a house that [was] habitable”, so residents of the
city started living in tents which were built on the snow. There were a total of fifteen
thousand people who needed assistance.104
100 PMOA, I.TNF 6/1315.S.02, 5 Safer 1315 (6 July 1897)
101 PMOA, SD 1213/26, 28 Muharrem 1317 (8 June 1899); PMOA, Y.A.RES 101/20, 8 Safer 1317 (18
June 1899)
102 PMOA, SD 1213/13, 4 Ramazan 1316 (16 January 1899)
103 PMOA, I.TNF 9/1318.Ş.02, 18 Şaban 1318 (11 December 1900)
104 Dispatches from United States Consul in Erzerum, 1895-1904, National Archives, Microfilm 1737, Roll
2, Volume 2, Dispatch Number 172-173
149
Given these circumstances, a lot of barracks needed to be built to shelter the
homeless. The provincial treasury was unable to finance the cost of the barracks. The
forestry budget, which had only 500 liras at the time, was not enough either. Therefore,
the provincial government demanded the Bank of Agriculture (Ziraat Bankası) to transfer
the road tax –which was 2,000 liras- to the local treasury. The Ministry of Commerce and
Public Works rejected this request because this money was allotted to the construction of
bridges on the Trabzon-Erzurum road.105 In the meantime, the Fourth Army had
distributed tents in the city to shelter the needy. Since the number of the tents was not
sufficient for all the homeless, the local government in Erzurum repeated a slightly
different request two days later. This time, the governor argued that the Agricultural
Bank should send 1,000 liras to the province and the central treasury should ask
neighboring provinces to provide Erzurum with 1,500 liras.106
A few months later, the residents of Erzurum requested exemption from forced
labor. Istanbul had previously granted them an extension to pay their road tax arrears
without late fees until November 1901. However, by March 1902, no money had been
collected. Since Erzurum still suffered from the drastic consequences of the earthquake, it
was necessary to extend the deadline until June 1902.107 Meanwhile, the local
government in Erzurum also requested that the road tax budget of Erzurum, which was
annually 550 liras, be transferred to the municipal treasury for the following five years.
105 PMOA, BEO 1743/130720, 28 Recep 1319 (10 November 1901)
106 PMOA, BEO 1744/130790, 30 Recep 1319 (12 November 1901)
107 PMOA, SD 1218/17, 30 Zilkade 1319 (10 March 1902); PMOA, I.TNF 10/1319.Z.05, 16 Zilhicce 1319
(26 March 1902)
150
This would accelerate the repair of roads, sidewalks, and sewers whose deteriorated
conditions threatened public health in the city. As a matter of fact, Erzurum was already
exposed to frequent epidemics such as cholera due to its commercial ties with Iran.108
Besides, the streets and sewers had been in bad shape even before the earthquake.
Overall, the streets which needed repair were 2,500 meters (1.5 miles) long.109
The Ministry of Interior approved the demand to transfer funds from the road tax
budget to the municipal treasury, but offered a slight change to the original proposal.
Instead of the original request which would be effective for five years, the ministry
allowed the transfer to be in effect for only three years. After two years (1904), the
municipal assembly still needed four thousand liras to repair streets and sewers. It would
be unfair to let them remain in bad condition and deprive some residents of Erzurum
from enjoying nice and clean streets while the rest of the population enjoyed this luxury.
Therefore, the municipality wanted to extend the transfer of the road tax to its own
treasury for another two years. Five months later, the Council of State approved the
municipal assembly’s request.110
In 1904, two years after the earthquake, Erzurum also suffered from an epidemic
that affected animals throughout the entire province. The Ottoman state had previously
attempted to restrict the movement of sick animals across its borders. In 1902, the
108 PMOA, BEO 1775/133107, 27 Ramazan 1319 (7 January 1902); PMOA, DH.MKT 909/59, 5 Ramazan
1322 (13 November 1904); PMOA, SD 1221/63, 25 Zilhicce 1322 (2 March 1905); PMOA, I.TNF
14/1321.S.01, 2 Safer 1323 (8 April 1905)
109 PMOA, DH.MKT 909/59, 5 Ramazan 1322 (13 November 1904); PMOA, SD 1221/63, 25 Zilhicce
1322 (2 March 1905); PMOA, I.TNF 14/1321.S.01, 2 Safer 1323 (8 April 1905)
110 Ibid.
151
Ministry of Forestry, Mining, and Agriculture had appointed customs officers to Pasinler
and Bayezid in order to monitor the movement of sick animals from Russia and Iran into
the Ottoman territories.111 Despite these efforts, the cattle plague (veba-i bakari) struck
the region in 1904. Since their animals were either sick or dead, farmers who were
already poor had a hard time transporting grain to the Black Sea coast. As the majority of
Erzurum’s population earned their living from agriculture, this created a very serious
situation.112
Given these circumstances, Erzurum could complete the construction of only 190
kilometers (118 miles) of roads in 1903. This was not satisfactory given the fact that all
the roads in the province were militarily very significant. In this context, the governor of
Erzurum asked the Ministry of Commerce and Public Works to waive the arrears of those
who had failed to either pay the road tax or work in the construction of roads between
1894 and 1904. In return, these people would agree to serve the state until the end of
1905, which would accelerate road constructions.113
The Ministry rejected this request for several reasons. First, the exemption would
constitute a precedent for other provinces. Second, existing regulations authorized two
extra days of forced labor as punishment for failing to pay the road tax. The application
of this system was necessary in order to discourage people from avoiding the payment of
the tax. Last but not least, those who were not able to pay the road tax already had the
111 PMOA, DH.MKT 467/42, 23 Zilhicce 1319 (2 April 1902)
112 PMOA, I.TNF 13/1321.Z.05, 26 Zilhicce 1321 (14 March 1904)
113 Ibid.
152
option to serve as forced labor.114 In 1904, out of 123,753 people who were liable in
Trabzon, 51,115 people worked in road construction whereas the rest paid the monetary
compensation in order to be exempt from forced labor. The road tax collected in 1904
amounted to eight thousand liras in Trabzon.115
Another difficulty faced by officials during the collection of the road tax was the
itinerant subjects of the empire. For example in 1908, authorities in Maçka were unable
to receive a certain Dmitri’s road tax because he was in Istanbul at the time. Dmitri also
owed the state almost five liras for the tax years of 1898 and 1900. Therefore, local
authorities in Maçka notified the officials in Beyoğlu, Istanbul, who explained in their
reply that Dmitri had already left Istanbul six weeks ago to go back to his hometown.116
Dmitri was not the only person who did not pay the tax in Maçka. Another resident of the
district, the son of a certain Sadık, could not pay his arrears all at once in 1907.
Therefore, he wanted to find a guarantor and give the state one lira each month under his
assurance.117 These cases show how difficult it was for Ottoman authorities to keep track
of its mobile citizens who used the Trabzon-Bayezid road to travel throughout the empire
but at the same time rejected to pay the road tax for the road’s repair and maintenance.
In conclusion, the period from 1889 until the early twentieth century witnessed
the Ottoman state’s constant failure to implement an efficient road tax system. The legal
change in 1889, which allowed people to choose between the road tax and forced labor,
114 PMOA, BEO 2312/173334, 27 Muharrem 1322 (13 April 1904)
115 Necdet Sakaoğlu, 20. Yüzyıl Başında Osmanlı Coğrafyası (Istanbul: Deniz Kültür Yayınları, 2007), 199.
116 PMOA, ZB 462/8, 8 Kanun-u evvel 1324 (21 December 1908)
117 PMOA, ZB 460/85, 9 Eylül 1323 (22 September 1907)
153
provided them with a flexibility to evade both options. Accordingly, residents of Trabzon
and Erzurum provinces constantly changed their minds and switched from one alternative
to the other. In response, the provincial governments wanted Istanbul to enforce a fixed
policy. Whereas Trabzon opted for the collection of the road tax, Erzurum preferred to
continue applying forced labor. These conflicting decisions were related to the different
levels of poverty in the two provinces, but the central government in Istanbul sided with
Trabzon because they wanted to turn over road works to contractors who needed the road
tax budget to construct roads. In the end, thanks to people’s ability to manipulate the road
tax system, granting pardons to those who were in debt became a regular policy in the
late Ottoman Empire.
As a result of this resistance against the collection of the road tax, authorities
started considering other ways of building and repairing roads. The next section of this
chapter will discuss the employment of contractors as a viable alternative and its
implications with regard to the privatization of road-building projects in the Ottoman
Empire.
Contractors and Privatization:
The difficulty experienced in the annual repairs of the Trabzon-Erzurum road
forced the Ottoman state to experiment with new methods. Relying on contractors was
one of these. One of the first cases where contractors were hired in the Trabzon-Erzurum
region was in 1895. When repairs were needed at the first, eighth, and eleventh
kilometers of the road, the Istanbul government decided to organize an auction for
underbidding (münakasa) and set the highest offer at 2,905 liras. The Ministry of
154
Commerce and Public Works, however, preferred the repair to start immediately and did
not want to waste time by organizing the auction. In the meantime, another contractor
applied to the Ottoman state in order to reconstruct the above-mentioned sections for
2,335 liras. The Council of State’s Department of Interior then accepted his offer.118
Relying on contractors, however, would not solve the Ottoman state’s problem.
Quite the contrary, the inexperience and corruption of the contractors would generate
further problems. In 1897, contractor Alemdarzade Emin Effendi from Trabzon promised
to repair the section of the road in Gümüşhane for a total of 14,940 liras. By 1900, Emin
Effendi had failed to finish the job. The reasons for the delay were the disagreements
between Emin Effendi and the technical personnel. Colonel Mahmud, a member of the
Council of Commerce and Public Works (Ticaret ve Nafıa Meclisi), and engineer Tevfik
Bey were appointed to assess the situation, and the road tax budget of Trabzon province
(mahalli bedelat-i nakdiyesi) paid thirty liras to Mahmud Bey and twenty-five liras to
Tevfik Bey for this purpose.119
One year later (1901), authorities had still not been able to solve the problem.
Meanwhile, Hacı Velizade Osman from Maçka wrote a petition in which he accused
Alemdarzade Emin Effendi of corruption. According to Osman, Emin Effendi showed a
loss of 400 liras in his records even though he had failed to repair most of the Trabzon-
Erzurum road. In addition, Emin Effendi illegally collected the road tax (twenty-five
118 PMOA, SD 1202/37, 13 Recep 1312 (10 January 1895); PMOA, I.TNF 3/1312.Ş.04, 22 Şaban 1312 (18
February 1895); PMOA, BEO 575/43115, 25 Şaban 1312 (21 February 1895)
119 PMOA, I.TNF 9/1318.R.05, 15 Rebiyülâhır 1318 (12 August 1900); PMOA, T.d. 240, 21 Ağustos 317
(3 September 1901); PMOA, SD 1218/21, 12 Muharrem 1320 (21 April 1902); PMOA, BEO 1836/137657,
19 Muharrem 1320 (28 April 1902); PMOA, DH.MKT 524/34, 8 Rebiyülevvel 1320 (15 June 1902)
155
piasters) from each forced laborer even though they had the right to opt for working
physically. Therefore, Hacı Velizade Osman demanded that Istanbul transfer the
remaining part of the repair to him.120 This case is a good example of the competition
between local notables to become involved in the construction process of the Trabzon-
Bayezid road.
Three months later, Alemdarzade Mehmet Emin sent a petition to the Grand
Vizier in order to defend himself. Almedarzade’s first argument was that while Istanbul
had initially considered paying 20,700 liras to the contractor for the repair, he had offered
a reduction by 5,700 liras. Second, he had managed to repair the most difficult parts of
the road (which were at Zigana Mountain) even though the state had provided only
twelve thousand man-days of forced labor (600 men), instead of sixty-six thousand
(3,300 men) as promised in the original contract. To compensate for the lack of the
forced laborers, Alemdarzade needed to hire workers for a daily wage of three piasters.
Last but not least, Trabzon’s provincial government had physically forced him sign a bill
which annulled the original contract (yedinden cebren feshi mukavele senedi alınarak).121
Meanwhile, Istanbul was searching for other tax-farmers through advertisement in
the provincial newspaper. Alemdarzade asked the Ministry of Commerce and Public
Works to postpone the auction which was scheduled for November 15th because the
construction season would not start until next May. The ministry’s response to
120 PMOA, T.d. 240, 21 Ağustos 317 (3 September 1901); PMOA, DH.MKT 2539/18, 19 Cemaziyülahır
1319 (3 October 1901); PMOA, SD 1218/21, 12 Muharrem 1320 (21 April 1902); PMOA, BEO
1836/137657, 19 Muharrem 1320 (28 April 1902); PMOA, DH.MKT 524/34, 8 Rebiyülevvel 1320 (15
June 1902)
121 PMOA, T.d. 240, 21 Ağustos 317 (3 September 1901); PMOA, DH.MKT 2573/90, 26 Ramazan 1319 (6
January 1902); PMOA, SD 1218/21, 12 Muharrem 1320 (21 April 1902); PMOA, BEO 1836/137657, 19
Muharrem 1320 (28 April 1902); PMOA, DH.MKT 524/34, 8 Rebiyülevvel 1320 (15 June 1902)
156
Alemdarzade was negative; instead, they advised him to seek redress in court.122
According to Alemdarzade, this would only waste his time and money because he did not
believe that the court would make a decision in his favor. Two months later, the Ministry
of Interior decided to delegate the issue to the Council of State.123
While the case of Alemdarzade Mehmet Emin remained unsolved, the Ottoman
state experimented with other ways of financing the road’s repair. There were twentythree
bridges between Erzurum and Aşkale that needed repair in 1901. The stonemasons
who wanted this job lacked sufficient resources. Therefore, instead of giving a security
deposit to the state, the stonemasons suggested mortgaging their real estate. Otherwise,
Istanbul would have to build the bridges on its own. Since this would be too costly,124 the
central government decided to auction the reconstruction of the bridges between Erzurum
and Ilıca for 740 liras a month later.125
By December 1902, a contractor had finished repairing 5.5 kilometers (3.5 miles)
along the Trabzon-Erzurum road. The construction of seven bridges between Erzurum
and Ilıca and of three bridges between Erzurum and Pasinler were also completed.
According to the original agreement, the contractor was supposed to build a total of
sixteen kilometers (ten miles). Moreover, he had promised to build eighteen bridges
between Erzurum and Pasinler; but the construction still continued on fifteen bridges.
122 Ibid.
123 PMOA, T.d. 240, 21 Ağustos 317 (3 September 1901); PMOA, DH.MKT 2592/40, 15 Zilkade 1319 (23
February 1902); PMOA, SD 1218/21, 12 Muharrem 1320 (21 April 1902); PMOA, BEO 1836/137657, 19
Muharrem 1320 (28 April 1902); PMOA, DH.MKT 524/34, 8 Rebiyülevvel 1320 (15 June 1902)
124 PMOA, T.d. 239, 1 Ağustos 317 (14 August 1901)
125 PMOA, T.d. 240, 23 Ağustos 317 (5 September 1901)
157
The difficulty of finding adept and experienced contractors was the main cause of such
delays in road-building projects in Erzurum. Sometimes, as in the case of the repair of the
twenty-two kilometer (thirteen miles) long section between Aşkale and Yeni Khan or for
the construction of fourteen bridges and road furrows (kasis) between Aşkale and Ilıca,
no one even applied to the state.126 Finally, in 1902, Istanbul auctioned the construction
of an arched (gözlü) stone bridge near Pırnakapan for 183 liras.127
Despite all these challenges, the Ottoman state continued to work with contractors
in 1903. In July, construction continued on twenty-five stone bridges, nineteen furrows,
and a section of the road, which was ten kilometers (six miles) long.128 Meanwhile,
Istanbul wanted to replace wooden bridges with stone bridges because they were more
resilient and much more economical in the long term. The government would save a lot
of money if it did not have to repair the wooden bridges every year.129 Istanbul also
decided to contract the construction of fifteen bridges and furrows between Aşkale and
Ilıca in 1903. No one had applied to the state in 1902 in order to undertake these projects,
but authorities also added four other bridges and furrows between Pırnakapan and Kop
Mountain to the list.130
Finally, contractors completed thirteen bridges and furrows and macadamized
16,280 meters (almost ten miles) between Ilıca and Evrenli Khans, and two bridges
126 PMOA, Y.MTV 237/99, 28 Ramazan 1320 (29 December 1902)
127 PMOA, T.d. 246, 19 Haziran 318 (2 July 1902)
128 PMOA, DH.TMIK.S 47/4, 4 Cemaziyülevvel 1321 (29 July 1903)
129 Umur-u Nafıa ve Ziraat Mecmuası, No. 259, 15 Muharrem 1320 (24 April 1902), p. 1688
130 PMOA, Y.MTV 248/45, 25 Rebiyülâhır 1321 (21 July 1903)
158
between Evrenli Khans and Aşkale in 1903. The state also auctioned the repair of four
bridges between Ilıca and Aşkale for a total of 83 liras. A contractor won the auction with
an offer of 67 liras, but he postponed the renovation until the following year due to harsh
weather conditions.131
On July 26th 1903, at another auction, a contractor obtained concessions to
convert six wooden bridges to stone bridges between Bayburt and Vavuk Mountain for a
cost of 315 liras.132 The contractor was able to finish half of the bridges before the
construction season was over. At another auction on September 17th 1903, another
contractor won the construction of ten bridges between Kop Mountain and Bayburt for
796 liras. He was able to finish the construction of only four bridges. In 1904, the
construction of six bridges which were left unfinished from the previous year
continued.133
Similar auctions were held for the Erzurum-Bayezid road as well. At an auction
held on September 13th 1903, the contractor won the construction of two bridges near
Hasankale. While the contractor was able to finish one of the bridges fairly quickly, the
other one was not ready until 1904. On July 22nd 1904, the state auctioned the
construction of five bridges near the same town for a total of 382 liras. A contractor won
the underbidding with an offer of 299.6 liras. Similarly, the state set the price for the
131 PMOA, Y.PRK.UM 74/106, 2 Muharrem 1323 (9 March 1905)
132 PMOA, T.d. 245, 22 Temmuz 319 (4 August 1903); PMOA, Y.PRK.UM 74/106, 2 Muharrem 1323 (9
March 1905)
133 PMOA, Y.PRK.UM 74/106, 2 Muharrem 1323 (9 March 1905)
159
conversion of two wooden bridges to stone bridges between Erzurum and Hasankale at
approximately 100 liras. An undertaker won the auction with 67.5 liras.134
In addition, a contractor was given concessions to build four furrows at
Deveboynu (the mountain between Erzurum and Hasankale and not the one in the
Gümüşhane region) for a total of 33.5 liras. The state had set the price for underbidding at
46 liras. Another contractor was given concessions to build embankments near the
bridges around Hasankale in order to strengthen them. While the state proposed 77 liras,
the undertaker decreased the price to 70.7 liras. However these contractors postponed
their projects until the following year due to bad weather conditions.135
Last but not least, in 1905, the section of the road which passed through
Gümüşhane sub-province was divided into three parts and different contractors undertook
the construction of each. While two of the sections were finished at the end of the
summer, four kilometers (2.4 miles) of the last section still needed some work.
Meanwhile, another contractor completed the repair of the section which passed through
the Trabzon sub-province.136
134 Ibid.
135 Ibid.
136 “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1321 (1903-1904), 204; “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1322
(1904-1905), 223
160
Figure II: Kuru Çay Bridge on the road between Erzurum and Hasankale
PMOA, Y.EE.d 414
161
Figure III: Nebi Çay Bridge on the road between Erzurum and Hasankale
PMOA, Y.EE.d 414
162
Figure IV: A bridge on the road between Erzurum and Hasankale (no name provided)
PMOA, Y.EE.d 414
163
Figure V: Pırnakapan Bridge on the road between Erzurum and Bayburt
PMOA, Y.EE.d 414
164
Figure VI: Fourth Engineer Corps (Dördüncü Istihkam Taburu) constructing a bridge in
Erzurum. From Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality Ataturk Library (Istanbul
Büyük Şehir Belediyesi Atatürk Kitaplığı), Album Collection, Album 76
(Alb_000076)
Coach Companies:
While the Ottoman state suffered from the high costs of repairing the road, the
difficulties of collecting the road tax, and the inexperience and corruption of the
contractors, officials also considered the establishment of a coach company as an
alternative means of financing the repair of the Trabzon-Erzurum road. First, the
existence of a coach company would be a solution to cut expensive transportation costs
and thus increase the volume of trade and traffic along the road. Second, coach
companies would also be responsible for the repair of the road, thereby saving the state
from a huge financial burden. However, authorities could not agree on the prospective
advantages and disadvantages that these companies would bring.
165
In 1879, the establishment of a coach company caused serious disagreement
between officials. Recently, both the Iranian transit trade and the agricultural exports of
Erzurum had been in decline. Expensive transportation costs and the lack of sufficient
carts were seen as the main cause behind this decline. Under these circumstances, the
provincial government in Trabzon was in favor of the foundation of a coach company,
but at the same time prioritized national interests over commercial profit and objected to
the establishment of a company by foreigners. The Ministry of Interior, however, was not
optimistic that they would be able to find Ottoman investors.137
As a solution, provincial authorities suggested that the residents of Trabzon
individually take initiative and use carts instead of draft animals. The ministry did not
find this solution realistic either and expected Trabzon to come up with a better idea. In
the meantime, Europeans were also concerned about expensive transportation costs on
the Trabzon-Erzurum road, which had become especially worrisome after Russia had
integrated Batumi into its territories with the Berlin Treaty (1878) following the Russo-
Ottoman War. The French newspaper Journal de Europe published an article on the
clashing commercial interests of the Russian and Ottoman Empires. Consequently, the
French consul contacted the Ottoman Ministry of Foreign Affairs to discuss this issue
because they were afraid that high transportation costs would cause a decline in the
Iranian transit trade which passed through the Ottoman Empire.138
At this point, Monsieur Riva, the chief engineer in Trabzon, was the main figure
who advocated the establishment of a coach company. Monsieur Riva and Simon, a
137 PMOA, SD.MLK 1831/6, 15 Recep 1296 (5 July 1879)
138 Ibid.
166
member of the provincial assembly in Trabzon, inspected the road and asked a certain
Hacı Hussein Effendi to inspect the police stations which had been built along the road.
They concluded that using wage labor was the most efficient way to repair the road.
However, this would violate existing regulations which authorized the use of forced
labor. Monsieur Riva and Simon were also of the opinion that the Trabzon-Erzurum road
should have contributed to the Ottoman Empire’s commercial relations with Iran and
Armenia, and that the exports of Erzurum should have already risen in volume since 1871
when the road was completed. No improvements, however, were observed in these areas.
Whereas some believed the Russian railroad line operating between Poti and Tbilisi to be
the main cause, Monsieur Riva attributed the commercial stagnation to the expensive
transportation costs in the Ottoman Empire.139
Even though the chief engineer Riva considered Ottoman transportation costs to
be too high, he also observed that similar conditions prevailed in the Russian Empire.
Therefore, if the Ottomans managed to reduce transportation costs even slightly, they
would regain the Iranian transit trade which had recently started shifting to Transcaucasia
(the reasons for this shift will be discussed in detail in Chapter Four). This would
facilitate exports from Erzurum and put an end to the province’s dependence on
European demand for wheat, which only increased when prices skyrocketed in Europe.140
According to the engineer, only the operation of carts could decrease
transportation costs on the Trabzon-Erzurum road. Currently, only five percent of the
whole traffic depended on carts on this route. A cart driven by four horses could carry 2.3
139 Ibid.
140 Ibid.
167
tons (1,800 kıyye – 5,070 pounds) whereas a pack animal was able to carry only 25
kilograms (20 kıyye - 55 pounds). In 1871, the cost of transporting 230 kilograms (180
kıyye - 507 pounds) on pack animals was 120 piasters on the Trabzon-Erzurum road
whereas the same cost was 70 piasters in Europe. Trying to be as realistic as possible,
Monsieur Riva adjusted this amount to the Ottoman context and rounded it to one lira
given the steepness of the Trabzon-Erzurum road and the additional costs of repair. In
other words, according to the chief engineer, the cost of transporting 230 kilograms on
pack animals on the Trabzon-Erzurum road should be one lira and not 120 piasters if the
Ottoman Empire wanted to compete with Russia. He also added that this was the exact
amount offered by an entrepreneur who wanted to operate a coach company a few years
earlier (it is likely that what Monsieur Riva remembered was the proposal by Ohannes
which will be further discussed in Chapter Four).141
The chief engineer was of the opinion that the coach company should not prevent
the passage of pack animals or peasants’ carts on the Trabzon-Erzurum road. He
believed, however, that muleteers would eventually abandon the road because they would
not be able to compete with coaches, but this would not necessarily cause local
transporters to lose their jobs. Since the existence of a coach company would facilitate
agricultural production, muleteers and owners of other pack animals would ultimately
divert their service to the connecting roads which fed the main Trabzon-Erzurum route.142
Moreover, the existence of a coach company would reduce the travel time of a
regular caravan from 12 to 7-8 days. The increase in the speed of traffic would also
141 Ibid.
142 Ibid.
168
prevent the layover of goods in Trabzon and Erzurum where they often waited
embarkation for weeks. Coaches would also protect the merchandise from collateral
damage through insurance. Last but not least, since the company would work on a
contract, transportation would be more reliable. Hence, the company would give
confidence to the merchants and thus increase their chances of preferring the Trabzon-
Erzurum road.143
Ultimately, the Ottoman state would also benefit from the establishment of a
coach company. First, revenues would increase since the company would be responsible
for repairs of the road. Thus, Ottomans would save up to 3,000 liras annually. The
revenue from the tithe and the customs taxes would also grow as a result of the decline in
transportation costs, the expansion of agriculture, and the increase in traffic. Last but not
least, the state would also deliver military equipment much more easily if it used the
service of a coach company. According to Monsieur Riva, since it was unlikely for a
civilian entrepreneur to establish a coach company, the Ottoman state itself should invest
in this project.144
The Sublime Porte did not take Monsieur Riva’s suggestions seriously, but only a
year later, it was, once again, necessary to macadamize and extend the Trabzon-Erzurum
road until Bayezid, and to operate coaches on this route. The government wanted to use
state funds for these two projects and follow the methods practiced by Mithat Pasha in
Danube province145 -in other words employing local people as forced labor.146 If this
143 Ibid.
144 Ibid.
145 PMOA, I.MMS 67/3134, 29 Recep 1297 (7 July 1880)
169
method did not fit the local circumstances of Trabzon and Erzurum provinces and thus
proved to be a burden on the people or if the central treasury failed to sponsor these
projects, then Istanbul would award a contract to a private company. The government
should, however, reserve the right to repeal the concession whenever it wanted as long as
it promised to compensate the company for the money spent to repair the road until the
annulment of the contract.147
In the end, the Grand Council approved the bidding of a contract to a company.
According to the articles and premises of the contract, the company had the right to
change the route of the road between Trabzon and Erzurum; but it was required to keep
the road in good shape. The company could repair the road using the cheapest
technology. The Ottoman state would donate the lands, which the road passed through, to
the company and allow it to cut trees from state (miri) forests. The company’s purchase
of tools and other equipment was to be tax-free. Last but not least, the transportation of
military and miri goods on the Trabzon-Erzurum road would be exempt from any tolls;
however, the passage of basic coaches, muleteers, caravans, and horsemen, and the
transportation of travelers and commodities on coaches would be subject to a fare
determined by the state.148
If the company failed to pay off the interests of the money it had borrowed for the
construction, then it could ask the state to increase the toll on the road. The company
146 Yücel Mutlu, Bayındırlık Bakanlığı Tarihi (8 Ekim 1848-31 Aralık 2004) (Ankara: Türkiye Cumhuriyeti
Bayındırlık ve İskan Bakanlığı, 2005), 58.
147 PMOA, I.MMS 67/3134, 29 Recep 1297 (7 July 1880)
148 Ibid.
170
could also operate tramcars (tramvay). If swamps along the road were cleared in the
process, then the company could claim these new lands in order to build tramlines.
Finally, the state was required by the contract to place an ad in newspapers announcing
the establishment of the coach company. If all applicants offered the same conditions,
then the contract would be given on a first come first serve basis. The state had the right
to inspect applicants to assess whether or not they had the financial capacity to undertake
the project.149
A member of the Grand Council objected to the establishment of a coach
company under these conditions given the fact that the state had already spent a lot of
money for the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road, and that the locals had worked
as forced labor during the process. By contrast, other members of the Council underlined
the inability of the central treasury to either extend the road to Bayezid or operate
coaches on this route. They agreed with their colleague on only one point: the local
population and their animals should be exempt from any charges in return for their
previous service as forced labor.150
Although we do not know who this member of the Council was, in the end, his
point of view prevailed and no coach company was established. In 1896, the possibility
of establishing a coach company was still being discussed among politicians. Zahirzade
Ahmed Bey from Basra wanted to establish the “Erzurum-Trabzon Coach Company”
(Erzurum-Trabzon Araba Şirketi) with some of his friends, all of whom were Ottoman
subjects. They all wished to contribute to Erzurum’s local economy, but they only wanted
149 Ibid.
150 Ibid.
171
to operate coaches and not to deal with repairing the road. In addition, they promised to
run coaches only after the Ottoman state fully repaired the road, which they expected to
take at least two years.151
As expected, both Trabzon and Erzurum provinces promised to repair the road in
two years. The Ministry of Commerce and Public Works, however, thought that the
establishment of a coach company was useless unless the company also assured to keep
the road in good condition. If the state continued to repair the road, disagreements would
arise between the state and the company in the future. The road passed mostly through
mountains and along streams. Therefore, recurrent floods and avalanches claimed 3,000
liras every year for the repair of the road.152 Under these circumstances, Inspector Şakir
Pasha, who had been appointed by Istanbul to administer reforms in the Eastern
provinces153, suggested charging a toll from travelers and pack animals in order to
finance the repairs.154
The Council of Public Works (Meclis-i Nafıa) decided that collecting a toll from
pedestrians, private carriages, and loaded or unloaded animals that belonged to travelers
would not be appropriate. Carriages and pack animals that belonged to merchants as well
as animals that passed through the road to be sold on the market, however, should be
subject to a toll. The Council presented as an example the Beirut-Damascus-Homs road
151 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 722/5, 5 Rebiyülahır 1314 (13 September 1896)
152 Ibid.
153 For further information see Ali Karaca, Anadolu Islahatı ve Ahmet Şakir Paşa (1838-1899) (Istanbul:
Eren Yayıncılık ve Kitapçılık, 1993).
154 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 722/5, 5 Rebiyülahır 1314 (13 September 1896)
172
where similar regulations were applied. Another option was to hold auctions. With the
road tax collected from the people, the state could finance the contactor who would
guarantee the lowest price to repair the road. Finally, the Ministry asked Zahirzade
Ahmed Bey to send a representative to Istanbul to discuss these matters. In the meantime,
officials would inquire whether Ahmed Bey and his friends were really capable and
financially well endowed to establish a coach company.155
In the end, no coach company was established on the Trabzon-Bayezid road until
the collapse of the empire in 1922. The main reason was not the lack of entrepreneurs
who wanted to invest in and profit from the operation of coaches on the Trabzon-Bayezid
road, but rather the objections from Istanbul. First, there were concerns about the status
of the road during wartime. Ottoman authorities were worried that the operations of a
private company would risk the Sublime Porte’s independence to carry weapons during
mobilization. The second reason behind Istanbul’s rejection was economic. Some
officials were worried that a private company would profit from a road which was built
mainly through state funds and the use of forced labor. In other words, Istanbul refused to
establish a coach company on the Trabzon-Bayezid road due to pragmatic reasons rather
than an opposition to the existence of coach companies in principle. For example, the
Ottoman state had allowed the establishment of a joint-stock company by merchants of
Çukurova in 1870. The company operated twelve horse carriages between Adana and the
port in Mersin.156 In the Trabzon-Erzurum region however, the Ottoman state continued
to be responsible for the repair of the road in the absence of coach companies.
155 Ibid.
156 Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean, 94.
173
Conclusion:
Even though the Ottoman state did not spend much money to hire skilled workers
thanks to the exploitation of the forced labor system, the high cost of the Trabzon-
Bayezid road’s construction constituted a major problem during the nineteenth century.
Initially, the central treasury and the provincial governments of Erzurum and Trabzon
were the main financers. Later, neighboring provinces also provided financial support in
order to finish the construction on time. In order to reduce the costs, some officials
suggested collecting a toll from travelers in order to contribute to the road’s budget. This
proposal was rejected because it ran the risk of reducing the number of travelers who
would prefer alternative routes in the vicinity such as the Russian roads in Caucasia.
Another option was to give a concession to a company which would undertake the repair
of the road. This policy, however, was not implemented until the early twentieth century.
Last but not least, employing trackwalkers was also considered as a solution for reducing
the high costs of the repair. These men could quickly detect and report which section of
the road had deteriorated and immediately repair them, thus saving the Ottoman state a
lot of money in the long run.
After the 1890s, the Ottoman state started following a more consistent financial
policy. Authorities now resorted mainly to the collection of the road tax and the
assignment of contractors. Both of these policies, however, caused further problems as
the local population resisted paying the road tax and as the contractors failed to be
efficient because of inexperience or corruption. Thus, while Istanbul government started
sharing its responsibility with contractors and thus tried to privatize road construction, the
174
Ottoman state still had to follow a mixed method and continued to use compulsory labor
alongside auctions in the early twentieth century.
Finally, concessions given to private companies in the early 1910s constituted the
final stage in the road’s construction during the reign of the Ottoman Empire. Thus, in the
1850s, the road’s construction was financed solely by the state which exploited the local
people as forced labor in this early stage. Once Ottoman subjects were given the right to
choose between forced labor and the road tax in 1889, they were able to manipulate the
system in many ways and made it too difficult for the state to collect the tax efficiently.
Therefore, in the late 1890s and early 1900s, Istanbul government started working with
contractors. In a sense, this new stage symbolized the “capitalization” of the road’s
construction. The inexperience and corruption of the local contractor-capitalists and their
limited numbers, however, forced Istanbul to turn to foreign investors. Thus, by the time
the empire entered World War I, the Ottoman state was still experimenting with different
methods of road-building. In a sense, the construction, reconstruction, and repair of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road constituted an “inconclusive” process.
In fact, when the Ottoman Empire collapsed in the aftermath of World War I, the
Trabzon-Bayezid road was still the subject of debates and controversies because of its
high costs. Thus, the road continued to be a burden for the Republic of Turkey as well.
As early as June 1925, the Istanbul Chamber of Commerce and Industry (Istanbul
Ticaret ve Sanayi Odası) declared that the road was an integral element of not only the
economy of the newly-born Republic in general but also for turning the harbor in
Istanbul into a transit trade center. Therefore, the Chamber wanted the government to
repair the Trabzon-Bayezid road immediately. Ironically though, the Republican
175
government –much like its Ottoman predecessor- replied that its current budget did not
allow any work to be done on the road.157
In this context, the question that needs to be answered concerns what accounted
for the high costs of the construction. Since forced labor was used to a great extent,
workers’ wages was not the main factor which caused the project to be a very expensive
endeavor. Yet the Ottoman state had to pay tremendous amounts of money in order to
buy equipment from Europe and employ foreign engineers. Therefore, Ottomans were
eager to replace their dependence on foreign expertise with local knowledge and finally,
in 1883, established their own engineering school which would also specialize in road
construction.158 As the following chapter will show however, the Ottoman state was in
practice very flexible on this issue and continued hiring foreign engineers when it was
necessary. Moreover, even Ottoman engineers’ stipends were very high and this
constituted a major financial burden on the treasury.
The wage of an unskilled worker continued to be five piasters per day in the
period following the completion of the road in 1871. Thus a repairman received a
monthly stipend of 1.5 liras in 1892. Next on the occupational hierarchy were
trackwalkers whose stipend varied depending on rank (chief or regular) and place
(Trabzon or Erzurum) between 1.75 and 4 liras.159 Then came the conductors who
received five liras per month. In contrast to these relatively low figures, the stipends of
157 Haydar Kazgan and Ertuğrul Tokdemir, "Trabzon-Tebriz Yolu," in Bir Tutkudur Trabzon, ed. Gündağ
Kayaoğlu, Öner Ciravoğlu, and Cüneyt Akalın (Istanbul: Yapı Kredi Kültür Sanat Yayıncılık, 1997), 306.
158 Franz Taeschner, "Die Entwicklung des Wegenetzes und des Verkehres Im Turkischen Anatolien,"
Anadolu Araştırmaları 1, no. 2 (1959): 187.
159 See Chapter Four.
176
engineers seem to have skyrocketed compared to the earlier period when they used to get
10-15 liras during the 1860s. Now, their stipend varied between forty-five and seventy
liras. The translators of foreign engineers, however, had a monthly stipend of only nine
liras in 1912160 (still a good amount compared to the lowest ranking repairmen).
To make more sense of these numbers, we should remember that the price of
bread varied between fifty and a hundred para (2.5 piasters) in the Trabzon-Erzurum
region in 1909.161 Thus a repairman would have to spend half of his daily wage for
buying a loaf of bread. Comparing the wages of road workers to those of others may also
be useful in order to make sense of these numbers. In 1873, carpenters earned a daily
wage of fifteen piasters in Trabzon, masons and brick-makers ten piasters, and porters six
piasters.162 In 1908, tobacco workers in Kavala received a daily wage of more than ten
piasters163 (but we do not know whether the price of bread was more or less the same in
Kavala as it was in the vicinity of Trabzon and Erzurum). Toksöz suggests that “a family
of three or four could do quite well on 5,000 Francs a year”164 in 1908 in the Çukurova
region. This is approximately equivalent to fifty-five piasters a day, in other words eleven
times the daily wage of an unskilled laborer in the Trabzon-Erzurum region. In the same
160 For further information on engineers’ stipends, see the next chapter.
161 PMOA, DH.MKT 2708/81, 23 Zilhicce 1326 (16 January 1909)
162 “Report by Vice-Consul Biliotti on the Trade of Trebizond for the Year 1873” in Reports from Her
Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of Their Consular Districts, Part IV, London:
Harrison and Sons, August 1874, p. 1635
163 Can Nacar, Tobacco Workers in the Late Ottoman Empire: Fragmentation, Conflict, and Collective
Struggle (Unpublished Dissertation, Binghamton University, 2010), 33.
164 Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean, 123.
177
year, migrant workers earned between thirty piasters and 1 lira per week in Çukurova165
(compared to thirty-five piasters in the case of road workers in Trabzon and Erzurum).
The Ottoman state was forced to rely on foreign and Ottoman engineers and give
them high stipends because the construction of the road required technical skills due to
the geographical features of the region. Mostly, the road passed through very high
mountains. Moreover, the region was either rainy or snowy throughout most of the year.
Therefore, engineers sometimes proposed changing the route of the road all together in
order to avoid the sections where frequent floods, avalanches, and other hazards related
to the environmental conditions of the area constantly damaged the road. The following
chapter will discuss these challenges which made the use of technology on the road very
difficult.
165 Ibid., 156.
178
CHAPTER III
ENGINEERING THE ROAD: ENVIRONMENT, TECHNOLOGY, AND LAND
My hope lies in roads.
Don’t block the roads!
Don’t fall on my roads!
Snowflakes, stop!
Kar Taneleri (Snowflakes)
By Kayahan1
Introduction:
In 1912, Erzurum’s Governor Mehmet Emin wrote a memorandum to describe the
miserable condition of roads in the province. In the memorandum, the governor
mentioned how the “advanced” nations of the world were able to tame nature, especially
how they were able to transcend oceans and mountains with the help of modern
transportation technologies such as roads and railroads (serkeş bahr-i muhitlerin
dalgalarını, bi aman dağların kayalarını iradet ve azmine karşı zebun eylemiştir). These
“advanced” nations even dreamed of getting into contact with the unknown creatures of
the stars by flying with balloons and planes above the clouds (bulutların fevkinde
uçurdukları balonlar ve tayyareler vasıtasıyla da ecram-ı semaviyenin mahlûkat-ı
1 Yollar benim umudumdur, yolları kapatmayın, yağmayın yollarıma, durun kar taneleri!
179
meçhulesiyle tesis-i revabıt eylemek rüyasının). In contrast, the residents of Erzurum
were still bound by steep acclivities and wild rivers which cut off the caravans.2
The construction and repair processes of the Trabzon-Bayezid road confirm the
governor’s observations. Over the course of the late nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, the Ottoman state faced many technical problems related to the natural
conditions of the area through which the road passed. Accordingly, the rough topography
of the region, harsh weather conditions, and inexperienced staff made the construction of
the road very difficult. In that sense, the Trabzon-Bayezid road constitutes a perfect
example of what Cronon calls second nature, “the artificial nature that people erect atop
first nature”.3 On the one hand, the road was a major technological endeavor because the
aim was to bring Trabzon and Erzurum together in spite of all the natural barriers which
separated the two provinces from one another. On the other hand, because of these very
natural challenges, the road never ceased to be part of the environment which surrounded
it. In the end, the road became such a “natural” and indispensable part of the locals’ and
other travelers’ everyday life that they could not do without it despite its many
disadvantages and dangers.
This chapter will first examine the problems that the engineers faced during the
construction process because of the climatic and other geographical features of the area.
Then, the discussion will turn to how the Ottoman authorities tried to deal with these
problems by changing the route of the road or by widening it. These solutions, however,
2 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
3 William Cronon, Nature’s Metropolis: Chicago and the Great West (New York: W. W. Norton, 1991),
xix.
180
would cause some other problems. Thus, the Ottomans’ trial-and-error experimentation
with nature would never cease. On the contrary, their effort to tame nature constituted a
major step in the formation process of the modern state. Hence, in addition to the
shortage of labor and financial constraints, the environmental conditions posed a serious
threat to the realization of this ultimate goal and added a new dimension to the
contradictions which were inherent to the inconsistent nature of this process. As Lefebvre
suggests,
Could the introduction of the aleatory on a massive scale in all the areas of
consciousness, knowledge and action be an essential characteristic of
modernity? The thesis is plausible. One of the results of man’s control over
nature is that he begins to be aware of the aleatory. But this awareness does
not leave him powerless and resigned. He integrates the aleatory so that it
becomes part of his consciousness and his actions. The new is always
surprising, but as long as its newness is not intolerably new, it becomes part
of established structures, balances and self-regulating processes (in
technical terms: feedback, scanning, homeostasis).4
Engineers’ Inexperience:
In 1846, when Ottoman authorities first started considering the reconstruction of
the Trabzon-Erzurum road, Kolağası5 Ramiz Agha and Hassan Effendi were assigned to
identify the equipment and supplies necessary for the construction. They divided the
construction phase into two parts between Trabzon and Maçka (ten hours of travel
distance) and between Maçka and Balahor (twenty-eight hours of travel distance).
According to Ramiz Agha and Hassan Effendi, the construction required only the
4 Lefebvre, 204.
5 Kolağası was an Ottoman military rank between captain and major. See Parlatır, Osmanlı Türkçesi
Sözlüğü.
181
renewal of the road and not the construction of new khans or police stations because the
road already passed through populated areas and was surrounded by houses and shops.6
This project was not put into practice and authorities once again came up with
new plans a year later in 1847. They estimated that the construction of a distance of one
hour would cost 4,500 liras. Similar to the previous year’s plans, Trabzon’s Governor
Abdullah Pasha suggested only rolling the surface (adi tesviye) of the road between
Trabzon and Balahor (thirty-two hours long travel distance) instead of macadamizing
(şose) it, and thereby reducing the cost to 2,100 liras. Since the topography of the region
was rocky, the road would already be based on solid ground. Therefore, leveling high
slopes would be sufficient and macadamizing would not be necessary. Likewise, the
region between Balahor and Kızılvize (a distance of seventy-six hours) consisted mostly
of plains and was easy to pass. Therefore, this part of the road did not require
macadamizing; but it needed ditches on both sides so that rain would not accumulate on
the surface. Last but not least, Abdullah Pasha also mentioned the need to employ two
engineers from Austria.7
It is paradoxical that Ottoman officials thought that both rocky regions and plains
would require the same type of road work. This naïve belief points out their inexperience
in the early stages of the construction. As a matter of fact, quite to the contrary of these
initial optimistic estimations, the mountainous geography of the region and hence the
rainy and snowy climate would constitute a major problem throughout the actual
construction process. For example in 1850, only a couple of months after the construction
6 PMOA, MVL 10/21, 3 Zilhicce 1262 (22 November 1846)
7 PMOA, A.MKT 92/7, 19 Şaban 1263 (2 August 1847)
182
started, there were already complaints about the work-performance of the laboring men.
Officials thought that they were inefficient because of the difficulties of working in the
rain –which was, however, inevitable in the fall.8
The inexperience of the technical personnel also caused their disagreement with
one another. In 1858, construction continued at Zigana Pass which was the most
dangerous part of the road and thus the most difficult to build. Therefore, some officials
suggested employing a squadron of military engineers before the construction started.
Some other authorities, however, concluded that the appointment of only one engineer
was going to be enough based on previous years’ experiences: accordingly, the more
officials were involved, the more time they wasted because all looked after their own
interests and insisted that their decisions and preferences should be applied.9 This must be
a reference to an incident which took place eight years ago in 1850 when an engineer and
four others from Hungary argued about the construction techniques and hence caused a
delay in the construction process.10
The inexperience of the engineers also caused the construction to be very
expensive in the long run. In 1862, the Gülçayır area which was three hours away from
Trabzon was in disrepair. A tour of inspection revealed that workers and engineers had
failed to build the road properly in the first instance. In other words, the quality of the
work in terms of engineering was very low and this was the major reason why the road
had decayed so quickly. The bad weather conditions like the heavy rain and floods also
8 PMOA, HR.MKT 37/71, 13 Muharrem 1267 (18 November 1850)
9 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
10 PMOA, HR.MKT 37/71, 13 Muharrem 1267 (18 November 1850)
183
contributed to the quick decay. In the end, the road was deemed unsuitable not only for
carriages but also for pedestrians and horsemen.11
Since the road fell into decay so frequently because of the engineer’s mistakes,
the Grand Council in Istanbul decided to replace them with their more skilled colleagues.
After all, the employment of experienced engineers could help solve some of the
technological problems caused by the climatic and geographical characteristics of the
region. Therefore, in 1865 the Council promoted Lieutenant (Yüzbaşı) Behzat Effendi, a
graduate from the Imperial Military School (Mekteb-i Harbiye-i Şahane), to be the
Assistant High Commissioner of the Trabzon road (Trabzon Tariki Komiseri maiyetinde).
Behzat Effendi had worked in the construction of police stations along the eastern
frontier for the last four years and thus proved his experience in engineering. He received
a raise of four liras in his stipend.12
The difference in terms of the geography of the two provinces also caused major
disagreements between officials and engineers about how to proceed with the
construction. In 1865, there was a conflict between Monsieur Tevenin and Feyzi Pasha
on the one hand and the Fourth Army on the other. Whereas the former preferred the
construction to start immediately in Erzurum and postpone building the sections in
Trabzon until next spring, the latter wanted to build the road first in Trabzon. According
to the Fourth Army, the part of the road in Erzurum was already in good shape for the
11 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 246/32, 19 Cemaziyülevvel 1279 (12 November 1862); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM
247/59, 1 Cemaziyülahır 1279 (24 November 1862). Making mistakes was a common feature in the
planning of infrastructural investments in the Ottoman Empire. For example, the company which built the
railroad track between Adana and Tarsus faced “critical attacks . . . for their mistakes in the original
construction of the line” in 1888. See Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean,
99.
12 PMOA, I.MVL 545/24490, 12 Şaban 1282 (31 December 1865)
184
passage of carts. The section between Trabzon and Gümüşhane, however, was not safe
even for animals to pass due to the mountainous characteristics of the region.13
Concurrently, Feyzi Pasha was also asked to send one of the conductors in Trabzon to
Bayezid so that he could survey the Erzurum-Bayezid road and then start the construction
on this section –a project which was not to be implemented for several decades.14
While Ottoman authorities were in disagreement with one another, a major event
a year later would cause a conflict, this time, between French and Ottoman officials. A
French conductor was murdered in 1867. The incident took place on May 9th in Vakf-ı
Sağır district, four and a half hours away from Trabzon. Monsieur Balthazar and his son
were sleeping in their hut which they had built near the road. Monsieur Balthazar was
shot once and stabbed several times. He died on the scene whereas his son suffered from
severe head injuries. He was transferred to a hospital in Trabzon where he died five days
later. Meanwhile the family’s belongings were stolen from their hut in Vakf-ı Sağır.15
The French consul and the French engineers of the road commission considered
several Ottoman soldiers as suspects for the murder. During the time of the incident,
these soldiers were transporting cannons from Trabzon to the Fourth Army. Yet the
soldiers were released after the testimonies given by the family’s servant as well as some
13 PMOA, MVL 698/56, 14 Şevval 1281 (12 March 1865)
14 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 355/96, 1 Muharrem 1283 (16 May 1866)
15 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 382/70, 18 Muharrem 1284 (22 May 1867); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 383/57, 30
Muharrem 1284 (3 June 1867); PMOA, A.MHM 383/40, 24 Muharrem 1284 (28 May 1867)
185
clerks and innkeepers proved them not guilty. The testimonies also revealed that there
were three other suspects who were believed to be locals based on their local outfit.16
The Ottoman state assigned the school officials (okul memurları) in the area to
look for the suspects and lead the investigation (tahkikat-ı hafiye). The suspects were
seen in Ardasa at 3 am three days after the incident. When the witnesses asked them
where they were going, the suspects drew their weapons and escaped. Later that night,
the suspects raided a khan two hours away from Ardasa. They stole some bread and
escaped again. Their destination was presumed to be Karahisar-ı Şarki, Erzincan or
Erzurum. The central government sent special agents (memur-u mahsus) to these areas
and ordered the local governments to arrest the suspects immediately. Meanwhile, the
governor of Trabzon blamed the Balthazar family for living in an isolated hut, far from
all other road workers and engineers who lived in tents or khans close to one another.17
Théophile Deyrolle, a naturalist whom the French government sent to eastern Anatolia in
order to make an inventory of the local flora, reported that the case was still unsolved
when he travelled from Trabzon to Erzurum in 1869.18
After this incident, which caused a conflict between the Ottoman and French
authorities, all engineers and administrative staff for the road’s construction were
recruited from the Ottoman army.19 In 1869, two new engineers –both of whom were
16 Ibid.
17 Ibid.
18 Théophile Deyrolle, 1869'da Trabzon'dan Erzurum'a (İstanbul: Çığır Kitabevi, 1941), 17.
19 “Report by Mr. Consul Gifford-Palgrave, on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1868”
in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls in 1869, August,
London, August 1869, p. 433
186
Ottoman subjects- were appointed to lead the construction. Accordingly, engineer Hadi
Effendi and conductor Osman Effendi arrived from Konya to Trabzon with a stipend of
15 and 10 liras respectively. Additionally, Hadi Effendi received a travel allowance of
34.5 liras and Osman Effendi 23 liras for the 230-hour long distance between Konya and
Erzurum. These two engineers were in disagreement with the chief engineer of Konya
and therefore demanded their reappointment to another place.20
As it is very clear in this case, there was a tension between the Ottoman and
foreign staff on several occasions during the road’s construction process. At this point,
one can also remember the discussion about the French doctor Fortan’s employment in
1865 –as discussed in Chapter One. Accordingly, the high stipends paid to the foreign
staff were already on the agenda of many political authorities and this would continue
causing trouble in the following years. This concern, however, should not be taken as an
indication of how the Ottoman Empire suffered from ethnic rivalries or a xenophobic
mentality in the nineteenth century. This was related more to the fact that the Ottomans
were struggling to identify and secure their status at a time when the transformations of
the nineteenth-century shook their long-established worlds. Having recourse to foreign
expertise for road-building projects was one of the transformations that the nineteenth
century brought about. As discussed in the introductory chapter, road-building relied on
local resources in the previous centuries.
At the same time however, it is important to remember that the public works
projects in the late Ottoman world were policies of a state which maintained its political
independence in the age of colonialism –even though many “foreigners” were involved in
20 PMOA, I.SD 17/723, 18 Recep 1286 (24 October 1869)
187
the construction process. Consequently, Ottoman roads provided a social space for
various local and “foreign” actors to interact with each other in a context which was
much different than how roads were built in other parts of the world, especially where
colonial powers dominated the political scene. For example in French Central Africa,
roads constituted one of the main arteries through which the “colonizers” and the
“colonized” came into contact with one another.21 In the Ottoman world, roads were
venues for “foreign” contact as well –as in the case of the engineers and doctors- but their
presence was much limited compared to a colonial context.22
The presence of foreign engineers would cause problems in the future as well. In
1909, the Ministry of Public Works needed 49,000 liras for the construction of roads in
Erzurum. The Ottoman Parliament (Meclis-i Mebusan), however, which was recently
reopened in the aftermath of the 1908 Constitutional Revolution, did not approve the
ministry’s budget. Therefore, the ministry had to resort to the old means of using forced
labor and collecting the road tax from the rest of the local population who wanted to be
exempt from forced labor. In the meantime, the ministry also prepared a second budget of
10,560 liras. Governor Mehmet Celal, however, thought that this updated budget was not
going to be sufficient as the state faced many difficulties in collecting all the estimated
road tax or organizing forced labor. Moreover, the state was using most of the collected
21 Freed, "Conduits of Culture and Control"
22 The fact that the murderers of the Balthazar family were still on the run two years after the attack speaks
to the freedom and flexibility enjoyed not only by Ottoman authorities but also by criminals. Obviously, the
French were not in a position to press the Ottoman state to solve the case once and for all. Even though on
many occasions the European powers voiced their opinion about the Trabzon-Bayezid road in order to
defend their own economic and political interests, the Ottomans remained the dominant player in the road’s
history. This issue will be further discussed in the following chapters in the context of transnationalism and
tobacco smuggling.
188
road tax in order to pay the stipends of the engineers and conductors, who were not at all
experienced in applied sciences (fenle katiyen münasebetleri olmayan mühendis ve
kondüktörler).23
In May 1911, the provincial assembly of Erzurum let the Ministry of Interior
know that the engineers who should have already arrived in the province in order to
repair the Trabzon road were still not present in Erzurum where the construction season
continued only for a few months from May to September. Therefore, even a few days’
delay could risk the completion of many roads. In this context, Erzurum’s residents –who
had been paying for years the road tax which subsidized the stipends of the engineerswere
worried about their absence.24
On May 6th, the governor of Erzurum Mehmat Celal sent a telegraph to the
Ministry of Interior. In this correspondence, the governor wrote that the construction of
836 kilometers (519 miles) of roads still had not yet begun, even though the construction
season had already arrived. Meanwhile, the engineers whom the Ministry of Public
Works had supposedly sent to the province –but who were still absent- continued to
receive their stipends which ranged from forty-five to sixty liras.25
The local notables, local religious leaders, and the commoners of Erzurum also
wanted an explanation for the absence of the engineers. According to Mehmet Celal,
people considered organizing a demonstration, similar to what they had done a year ago
in 1910, in order to show their reaction to this situation. The goal of the previous meeting
23 PMOA, DH.MUI 10-2/7, 1 Ramazan 1327 (16 September 1909)
24 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
25 Ibid.
189
in 1910 was to protest the budget cut allocated to the construction of roads in Erzurum –
as will be discussed in detail in the Epilogue. Knowing the “unruly” nature of the locals,
the governor wanted Istanbul to immediately start the construction of at least a few roads
in Erzurum in order to assuage the anger of the public.26 In other words, backed up by the
support that he received from the residents of Erzurum, the governor invoked the
memories of the recent public demonstration and used it as a threat to prove the urgency
of the province’s demands.
This insistence must have caused the governor’s dismissal. A year later, the new
governor of Erzurum Mehmet Emin continued complaining about the constitutional
government’s failure to respond to the demands of the population and fulfill its promises.
According to the governor, this failure created disappointment among the subjects of the
empire. The slow improvement in the Ottoman road network was a good example of this
situation. Accordingly, the annual public works budget of Erzurum was 8,000 liras in
total. In the previous four years, however, the local government could spend yearly only
6,956 liras in order to roll the surface of 5,879 kilometers (3,653 miles) of road,
macadamize 8,667 kilometers (5,385 miles), and build thirteen bridges in Erzurum.
Therefore, according to the governor, the actual problem was not lack of money. On the
contrary, the real problem was the lack of experienced engineers.27
The Ottoman Engineering School was not well-equipped to train the sufficient
number of engineers that the empire needed in order to construct as many roads as
needed. Even though Halaciyan Effendi, the Minister of Public Works, had imported
26 Ibid.
27 Ibid.
190
many foreign engineers from abroad, according to the governor of Erzurum, this could be
only a practical short-term solution. In the long run, the drawbacks of this policy would
overwhelm its advantages because of the expensive stipends and travel allowances paid
to the foreign engineers and their translators. Erzurum’s previous governor Mehmet
Celal, for example, had dismissed Monsieur Bash and Monsieur Sabunadi because of
their high stipends.28
Similar to his predecessors, Erzurum’s current engineer Monsieur Vaysa also
received a high monthly stipend, sixty-six liras, and a yearly travel allowance of six
thousand Francs. In addition, his translator had a monthly stipend of nine liras. In spite of
these vast amounts of money paid to these technical personnel, there was no substantial
progress in the public works of the province. Therefore, according to the governor, the
state should have actually saved this money in order to contribute to the foundation of
another engineering school. Alternatively, Istanbul could have given fellowships to at
least three or four Ottoman students so that they could study engineering in Europe.29
In conclusion, the inexperience of the engineers and their ignorance of local
geography caused many problems during the construction and repair processes of the
Trabzon-Erzurum road. First of all, they could not agree among themselves which
technique to use or which route to renovate. They had similar conflicts with not only their
colleagues but also with other officials. Last but not least, their mistakes caused the road
to frequently fall into decay, thus increasing the already high cost. Another reason why
they were a burden on the treasury concerned the high stipends they received. This was
28 Ibid.
29 Ibid.
191
especially true in the case of foreign engineers. In addition to this, the environmental
conditions of the region through which the road passed further contributed to the
financial burden. The next section focuses on this issue.
Climate and Geography:
At the turn of the twentieth century, it was clear to local officials that the
topographical conditions of the Trabzon-Erzurum region were one of the major reasons
why road-building projects in this part of the empire progressed so slowly. The steep
mountains not only made the construction too difficult, but also too costly. Thus,
compared to other provinces where roads passed through plains, Trabzon-Erzurum
provinces needed technological expertise in order to build roads. Instead of simply
paving stones (taş döşeme), the construction required many technical details.30
Back in the mid-nineteenth century however, the first reaction of the authorities to
the geographic and climatic conditions of the area was “submission”. In 1850, a major
question discussed among officials was which route the road should take between
Cevizlik (which was six hours away from Trabzon) and Bayburt.31 There were four
possible tracks to reach Erzurum,32 all of which can be clearly seen on the following
maps. While the discussion was still going on, officials cancelled the construction since it
would be impossible to build the road in winter. Thereafter, no further work was done
30 “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1320 (1902-1903), 107-108; “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi
1321 (1903-1904), 203; “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1322 (1904-1905), 222
31 PMOA, A.AMD 21/63, 20 Zilhicce 1266 (27 October 1850); PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 34/28, 8 Muharrem
1267 (13 November 1850)
32 PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 17/15, 1266 (1850), no specific date
192
until seven years later when the issue of which route to renovate surfaced once again –as
will be discussed below.33 Hence, in 1850-1851, Frederick Walpole, a British naval
commander, described the scenery and the condition of the road near Cevizlik as follows:
Many of the houses were large, and had windows and verandahs; some
were placed most picturesquely, and, swathed in creepers, reminded one of
Swiss scenery, as it is represented, not as it is. But I might fill pages with
description; and had not the bad roads proved the reality, and horses
slipping, floundering and falling over the muddy road, convince me it was
no dream, I should have believed the whole a cheat of fancy, to conciliate
me for the many injuries she done me. The roads being much used, and
only earth, were now girth deep in mud, and in places almost impassable.
The road was along the side of the mountains, so the whole drama of life
was acted beneath our feet in the valleys.34
33 Tozlu suggests that the outbreak of the Crimean War may be the primary reason for this long delay.
Tozlu, Trabzon-Erzurum-Bayezid Yolu (1850-1900), 63.
34 Walpole, 209.
193
Figure VII: Map of the Main Road & Mule Tracks from Trabzon to Bayburt, Foreign
Office, Diplomatic and Consular Reports, Turkey, Trade of the Trebizond Vilayet
for the Year of 1904, Annual Series No. 3359, London, May 1905
194
Figure VIII: Map of the Trabzon-Erzurum Road at Deveboynu Mountain
PMOA, HRT.h 1902 (27 June 1885)
195
Figure IX: Map of the Trabzon-Erzurum Road between Cevizlik and Bayburt
PMOA, HRT.h 2022 (27 June 1885)
Seven years later when construction started again in 1858, one of the first tasks
assigned to the workers near Köşepınar was to raise an embankment at the foot of the
mountain near this town in order to prevent the fall of avalanches on the road in winter.
Accordingly, the governor of Erzurum Arif Bey dramatically stated that the bones of the
humans and animals who died under avalanches were exposed to the eyes of the travelers
in the summer as snow melted down.35 Building walls along the road, however, proved
not to be useful in preventing damage caused by avalanches. Therefore, authorities
decided to shift the road to an adjacent hill which did not pose the same risk.36
35 PMOA, I.DH 412/27326, 11 Safer 1275 (20 September 1858)
36 PMOA, I.MVL 403/17488, 7 Safer 1275 (16 September 1858)
196
After the construction of the Erzurum-Bayburt section finished in late 1858, work
on the rest of the road between Bayburt and Trabzon started. The part between Trabzon
and Cevizlik was relatively easy to pass and therefore its construction could take place in
any season. This was not true, however, for the part between Cevizlik and Bayburt. This
section, which took thirty hours to travel, was very steep and rocky. The most dangerous
part of the road was between Cevizlik and Gümüşhane which provided two options for
the travelers to choose in different seasons of the year. In the winter, the road which
passed through Zigana Mountain (sometimes also called Dereyolu or Deveboynu road)
was the main route for four months from December until April. Between April and
December, Kolat Mountain provided a better passage. Since nobody passed through
Zigana Mountain for most of the year, khans along the road were vacant. Moreover, this
route, which was exceptionally mountainous between Cevizlik and Gümüşhane, lacked
any plain grounds on which the muleteers could allow their animals to rest.37
A third option to reach Gümüşhane from Trabzon was to depart to Kazıklı
Mountain at Mühürcü, which was only three hours away from Trabzon and hence closer
to the city compared to Cevizlik. Even though this was the shortest route, it was not
suitable for travel during the winter because it passed through a mountain pasture38 (most
probably Mecid Yayla39). Therefore, this route was known as Çayırlar (Meadows)
among the locals.40 In the end, not this shortest route, but the other two which passed
37 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
38 Ibid.
39 See Eastern Turkey in Asia: A series of Maps produced by the British War Office, Geographical Section
from 1901-1954; 1:250,000
197
either through Zigana or Kolat Mountains –depending on the season of the year- were
subject to construction.41
Eventually, Ottoman officials decided to renovate the Zigana road and therefore
twenty years later, a travelers’ handbook published in 1878 advised its readers to take the
Zigana road and avoid the other alternatives.42 In 1910-1911, the Kolat route was still in a
very miserable condition. E.V. Hoffmeister, who travelled in southeast Russia and
northeastern Anatolia between 1910 and 1911, wanted to take the Kolat Mountain track
which also crossed Kitowa Mountain that he mentions in his travelogue. People in
Varzahan warned Hoffmeister that this track was impossible to take during most of the
year. Therefore, Hoffmeister had to follow the main route which passed through
Gümüşhane in order to reach Trabzon.43 Alexander MacDonald who travelled along the
road in 1891 also refers to the Kolat Mountain route as a “track” in his travelogue.44
In the end, after all these considerations about which route to renovate, a fastapproaching
winter forced officials to delay construction until the spring of 1859.45 At the
end of December 1858 however, since the weather was surprisingly not snowy or rainy
40 Layard, 4.
41 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
42 Handbook for Travelers in Turkey in Asia Including Constantinople: The Bosphorus, Plain of Troy, Isles
of Cyprus, Rhodes, &C., Smyrna, Ephesus, and the Routes to Persia, Bagdad, Moosool, &C. with General
Hints for Travelers in Turkey, Vocabularies &C., with Maps and Plans, Fourth ed. (London: John Murray,
1878), 403.
43 E. V. Hoffmeister, Durch Armenien: Eine Wanderung und der Zug Xenophons Bis Zum Schwarzen
Meere, Eine Militär-Geographische Studie (Leipzig & Berlin: B. G. Teubner, 1911), 134-35.
44 MacDonald, 76.
45 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
198
yet, construction started where it had ended in 1850: the outskirts of Trabzon’s city
center. At this first stage of construction, workers had to do unskilled tasks such as
breaking up stones and leveling of uphill slopes.46 Soon however, the weather conditions
worsened as expected and workers could not properly build the rest of the road after
Boztepe. Still, by the end of 1859, the section of the road between Trabzon and Kale
(sometimes also called Kalecik at the border of Erzurum and Trabzon provinces) was
available for the safe passage of loaded animals and coaches, even in the winter.47 A year
later however, most of the road was in such poor condition that the governor of Trabzon,
Izzet Pasha, suggested that Baron Julius von Minutoli take the roads in Caucasia instead
of crossing Anatolia on his way to Persia.48
Bad weather conditions complicated the construction process in 1861 as well. On
April 29, a small mill and five houses in Ayvasıl were flooded and then collapsed
because of heavy rain. In addition, a small section of the Incirlik slope fell into decay.49
The situation was so bad that, at some point, officials considered changing the route of
the road altogether. According to this plan, instead of the section between Gülçayır and
Incirlik, workers would build a new road starting at the fields above the meadow
(Gülçayır). This new road would be fifty kilometers (approximately thirty miles) long. In
46 PMOA, I.DH 420/27799, 16 Cemaziyülevvel 1275 (22 December 1858)
47 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 386/24, 24 Cemaziyülevvel 1276 (19 December 1859). That the document refers to
both draft animals and coaches supports Bulliet’s identification of Anatolia as an exception in the Middle
East where wheeled traffic could not survive against the competition of the pack camels which were
economically much more advantageous. In contrast, wheels and animal power coexisted in Anatolia where
both were used for transportation. Richard W. Bulliet, The Camel and the Wheel (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1975), 231-35.
48 Pınar, 111.
49 PMOA, I.DH 472/31663, 10 Zilkade 1277 (20 May 1861)
199
this case, the state had to purchase the fields from their owners and transport to the
construction site some additional stones. Therefore, this new route was going to result in
the waste of a lot of money and officials decided not to build it.50
In June 1861, Değirmendere River flooded a 6.8 meter–long (10 arşın - 21 feet)
section of the road at Ayvasılburnu. If workers diverted the stream from its normal course
and built barriers and terraces in order to prevent further floods, then the road would be
completely ready for the safe passage of travelers and caravans in the next winter. The
construction of these swampy areas until Incirlik slope (Incirlik yokuşu) could be finished
in a week.51 In 1861, officials also decided that the construction should continue on the
rest of the road to the east of Erzurum (from the city center to Bayezid).52 The hard
winter and the heavy rain, which had continued ever since April, however, caused delays
in the construction of the road between Cevizlik and the Iranian border.53 In the mid-
1860s, John Ussher, who traveled on the Trabzon-Bayezid road, portrayed the road at
Köşepınar with the following words:
The path was a mere goat track, wide enough only for a single animal. In
many places where the snow was hard, it was worn by the feet of the horses
passing over it into holes a foot deep and about twenty inches apart, into
which the well-trained beasts placed their feet with the greatest care,
withdrawing them slowly and with equal prudence.54
50 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 483/68, 1 Muharrem 1278 (9 July 1861)
51 Ibid.
52 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 220/86, 19 Zilkade 1277 (29 May 1861)
53 PMOA, I.DH 472/31663, 10 Zilkade 1277 (20 May 1861)
54 John Ussher, A Journey from London to Persepolis; Including Wanderings in Daghestan, Georgia,
Armenia, Kurdistan, Mesopotamia, and Persia (London: Hurst and Blackett Publishers, 1865), 678-79.
200
Problems related to the geographical and climatic conditions of the region forced
the Ottoman authorities to pay more attention to the topography of the area. In 1864,
plans for the next year’s construction were made. Accordingly, the road from Erzurum
until Trabzon was sixty-two hours long –the section between Erzurum and Bayburt
constituting twenty-four hours and between Bayburt and Trabzon thirty-eight. Eight
hours of the road passed through very steep locations. Therefore, the plan divided the
road into five different sections based on topography. The first type was covered by
debris (moloz) and needed only rolling the surface (tesviye) of the road. Therefore, it did
not require skilled laborers like sappers (duvarcı), sewer-men (lağımcı) or stonemasons.
Each arşın (68 centimeters or 28 inches) of this type necessitated twenty para and two
unskilled workers. The second type included muddy (balçıklı) areas which were almost
impassable during the rainy seasons of the year. The construction of each arşın demanded
forty para and three unskilled workers to furnish stones on the road’s surface.55
The third type had a slightly rough topography (az inişli) and each arşın needed
two piasters and six unskilled workers to flatten the road. The fourth type was stony and
rocky (taşlı ve kayalı) and each arşın necessitated three piasters, four unskilled workers,
and one stonemason to break down the rocks. The fifth type consisted purely of steep
rocks (pek sarp ve kayalık) and each arşın demanded ten piasters, eight unskilled
workers, and five stonemasons to dig the road (yolun iniş aşağı hafr olunması) and build
walls (duvar) and sewers (mecra). Additionally, workers had to build a bridge whose
55 PMOA, HR.TO 445/18, 27 March 1864
201
total length amounted to 408 meters (600 zira’ - 1338 feet). Each zira’ of the bridge
required forty piasters, twenty unskilled workers, and twenty stonemasons.56
The plan also divided the road into two sections between Trabzon-Balahor (160
kilometers – 100 miles) and Balahor-Erzurum (137 kilometers – 85 miles) each of which
consisted of further subsections: Trabzon-Zigana Mountain (twelve hours – seven
hundred daily workers), Zigana Mountain-Gümüşhane Bridge (twelve hours – seven
hundred daily workers), Gümüşhane Bridge-Balahor (nine hours – four hundred daily
workers), Balahor-Zazan Khan (sixteen hours – six hundred daily workers), Zazan Khan-
Erzurum (thirteen hours – six hundred daily workers).57 After these plans were made,
authorities wanted to start the construction in 1864; but both the harsh weather conditions
in the winter and the migration of refugees from Russia postponed it for another year.58
In 1869, Théophile Deyrolle had the chance to see the construction of the
Trabzon-Erzurum road on site. According to Deyrolle, the road was in a terrible
condition at many places. At Zigana Mountain, he compared the road to a pathway which
was surrounded by mountains on one side and deep cliffs on the other. Both climbing up
and going down the hill were so difficult and dangerous that Deyrolle and his
companions often had to dismount from their horses and walk on foot. As a matter of
fact, since the new road was in such bad condition, they preferred using the old road even
though it too was dangerous. At Kop Mountain, Deyrolle came across many khans which
the state had once built but failed to maintain. Therefore, they were all in ruin. After
56 Ibid.
57 Ibid.
58 PMOA, MVL 698/56, 14 Şevval 1281 (12 March 1865)
202
twelve days, Deyrolle arrived in Erzurum and, despite all the shortcomings of the road,
thought that the bad weather conditions were the main reason why his journey had taken
such a long time. He claimed that he could have travelled the same route in nine days in
nice weather.59
Ironically enough, in 1871, when the road’s renovation was over, thus at a time
when the road was supposed to be in its best shape, another traveler, James Bassett (a
Presbyterian missionary), described the road with the following words:
At this time the military road from the sea to Erzeroum had been
completed; but it had been washed away, in many places, by mountain
torrents. We could not trust to conveyance by wagons in the uncertain state
of the road, and therefore engaged a Persian caravan of horses to transport
ourselves and baggage to Oroomiah, a distance of five hundred and fifty
miles by way of the Khoy plain.60
Two years later in 1873, the Trabzon-Erzurum road was again in disrepair due to
the recent heavy rain and floods.61 Given the damage caused by the environmental
conditions, only trackwalkers –who could examine the road on a daily basis- would
quickly detect and arrange the repair of holes which appeared on the surface of the road
during the winter due to water accumulation.62 In the meantime, there were serious
disagreements between Istanbul and local power holders about how to repair the road. On
the one hand, Rasim Bey, the governor of Trabzon, complained about the fact that
59 Deyrolle, 22, 24, 31, 48, 50, 52.
60 James Bassett, Persia: The Land of the Imams, a Narrative of Travel and Residence, 1871-1885 (New
York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1886), 14-15.
61 PMOA, SD 1827/49, 1 Muharrem 1290 (1 March 1873); PMOA, I.MMS 53/2332, 28 Cemaziyülâhır
1292 (1 August 1875); PMOA, BEO.AYN.d 1003, 7 Recep 192 (9 August 1875)
62 PMOA, SD 499/17, 25 Muharrem 1290 (25 March 1873)
203
Istanbul was too slow in responding to his demands. On the other hand, the central
government accused Rasim Bey of neglecting the road. After a while, also the Fourth
Army got involved in the discussion between the two parties, and suggested that the
Fourth Army itself should be responsible for the repair of the road.63
While central, provincial, and military officials were debating these matters, the
situation of the road was getting worse day by day. Eventually, some of the safety fences
on the bridges and some of the milestones located along the road crumbled. The section
between Trabzon and Vavuk Mountain was in especially bad shape. Landslides had also
blocked the road between Zigana and Ardasa.64 In Hoşoğlan and Viranköy, three walls
needed repair so that stones and rocks would not fall on the road from the mountains. The
deteriorated sections were thirty-two kilometers (nineteen miles) long.65
Meanwhile, the Fourth Army was right to be concerned about the repair of the
road, and eventually seized control of its management. In 1875 for example, there were
cannons in Trabzon waiting to be delivered to Erzurum because poor road conditions
prevented their passage. If the state failed to transport them immediately, the cannons
would have to stay in Trabzon during the whole winter. Moreover, if Istanbul did not
repair the road as soon as possible, the total cost would increase more and the road would
become eventually impassable.66
63 PMOA, SD 1827/49, 1 Muharrem 1290 (1 March 1873).
64 Ibid.
65 PMOA, I.MMS 53/2332, 28 Cemaziyülâhır 1292 (1 August 1875); PMOA, BEO.AYN.d 1003, 7 Recep
192 (9 August 1875)
66 Ibid.
204
The road had a major significance for the Fourth Army because it was the main
military route through which the officers would reinforce the troops in the frontier
regions in case of a war against Russia. In the mid-1870s, a clash between the two
empires was not unlikely. Thus, during the Russo-Ottoman War of 1877-1878, the
Trabzon-Bayezid road turned into a battleground between the two parties. Charles
Boswell Norman, the war correspondent of The Times who was in Eastern Anatolia to
report on the war, observed that “the road the whole way from Trebizond was in excellent
order –by far the best hill road I have yet seen, one that throws quite into the shade the
Himalayan and Tibet road from Simla to Cheenee, and infinitely superior to that which
runs down our Punjab frontier from Kohat to Jacobadad.”67
Similarly, the Handbook for Travelers informed its readers that the road between
Erzurum and Bayezid was “practicable for vehicles” and that the khans were “good,
being frequented by travelers to and from Persia.”68 Agreeing with this assessment, Sir
Charles Snodgrass Ryan, an English surgeon who worked for the Ottoman army in
Plevna and Erzurum between 1877 and 1878, wrote that “the road that we travelled was a
splendid one, macadamized nearly all the way, and built in that solid and enduring form
that men gave to their highways before railways came to compete with them.”69 Finally,
Henry Barkley, a British engineer who took the road from Erzurum to Trabzon
immediately after the war, reported that while “impassable in some places, and dangerous
67 Charles Boswell Norman, Armenia and the Campaign of 1877, Second ed. (London, Paris & New York:
Cassell Petter & Galpin, 1878), 26.
68 Handbook for Travelers in Turkey in Asia Including Constantinople, 404.
69 Charles Snodgrass Ryan, Under the Red Crescent: Adventures of an English Surgeon with the Turkish
Army at Plevna and Erzeroum, 1877-1878 (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1897), 316-17.
205
in others;” it was still full of many travelers: “at every mile or so there stood a roadside
khan,” he wrote, “but we had to pass three or four of them, all the rooms being occupied
by travelers, and the stables by their horses.”70
While European travelers found the road in a more or less good condition –except
Frederick Gustavus Burnaby, an English soldier who shortly before the advent of the war
described the road as “very narrow,”71- Ottoman officials were busy making preparations
for other sorts of construction. Accordingly, Kop and Pırnakapan Khans needed repair so
that the army could settle soldiers and gendarmeries in them.72 After the war was over,
Henry Fanshawe Tozer, an English writer who travelled between Diyadin and Trabzon in
1879, described the situation of the road at Kop Mountain as follows:
The road in this part has been finely engineered, and rises in a gentle
gradient, though, as the native rock protrudes here and there in rough
masses, it would appear either that it was never completed, or that the
macadamized part has all been worn away; the smaller bridges too, have
mostly been allowed to fall out of repair, so that many of them are all but
impassable.73
Tozer also noted the frequency with which he came across khans between
Trabzon and Erzurum as opposed to the section between Erzurum and Diyadin. He spent
the night in one of them, Yeni (New) Khan, which had been built after the Russians
destroyed a nearby khan during the Russo-Ottoman War. Tozer also noticed the huge
70 Barkley, 340.
71 Frederick Gustavus Burnaby, On Horseback through Asia Minor, Second ed., vol. 2 (London: Gilbert
and Rivington Printers, 1877), 130.
72 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/21, 9 Zilkade 1295 (4 November 1878)
73 Henry Fanshawe Tozer, Turkish Armenia and Eastern Asia Minor (London: Longmans, Green, and Co.,
1881), 422.
206
discrepancy between the number of travelers on the main Trabzon road (which passed
through Bayburt and Gümüşhane) and the number of travelers on the secondary route that
he diverted to after Varza Khan. This alternative route reached Trabzon through Kazıklı
Mountain and was much shorter; but since it was prone to many snow storms, nobody
preferred to take it.74
Thus, the war caused tremendous damage to the road. In August 1879, the
governor of Erzurum Mustafa Pasha sent a telegraph to Istanbul and reported that the
Trabzon-Erzurum road urgently needed repair.75 On August 4th 1879, merchants made a
similar complaint about the difficulty of passing through the road at a time when the
construction season was about to end. Twelve days later, Mustafa Pasha sent another
telegraph to the Ministry of Interior in which he reiterated his earlier complaints. A week
later, another telegraph sent from Erzurum revealed that the repair of the road had already
started in Trabzon province, although officials in Erzurum were still waiting for a reply
from the Ministry of Interior. A week later on August 30th, Mustafa Pasha sent a fourth
telegram to the same ministry again asking for the repair of the road.76 Because of this
miscommunication between the central government and the provinces and the
74 Ibid., 421, 30.
75 PMOA, DH.MKT 1326/83, 21 Şaban 1296 (10 August 1879)
76 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879). These four consecutive telegraphs sent
from Erzurum to Istanbul highlight both the ability and the disability of Istanbul to reach the frontiers of
the empire. On the one hand, telegraph lines, one of the major steps in reforming the Ottoman
communication network, served as an efficient tool in the hands of the central state to send orders to the
provinces or to keep record of local problems. On the other hand, telegraph lines were also a means of
voicing local demands such as the improvement of roads –another major step in the modernization of the
Ottoman transportation system. Ironically, while the local people and their representatives were able to
reach the center and complain about its (dis)services, the central state faced difficulties in responding to
local needs.
207
irresponsiveness of the former, the provincial governments wanted the road engineers and
the conductors to work under their jurisdiction in 1879.77 In other words, the provinces
were looking for a decentralized administration of the Trabzon-Bayezid road so that they
would not have to wait for orders from Istanbul in order to initiate the repair of the road.
The road needed four types of work in 1879. The first one concerned the sections
where dirt had crumbled because of water accumulation, floods, and the frequency of
traffic (doldurulan toprağı mürur ve üburdan ve kalan sulardan ve tuğyandan inhitat
etmesiyle ve şosesi bozulmasıyla vaziyet-i tesviyeden çıkmış olan). The second related to
the parts of the road where stones –which were as big as either a walnut or an egg- were
dislocated. The third required filling the holes that emerged on the surface of the road.
Last but not least, the fourth type of work consisted of clearing the drains and the road
itself from the pebbles (çakıl taşları) and other rubbish (sair süprüntü) that the rain had
dragged down from the mountains.78
A few months later (early 1880), the flooding of Harşit River once more seriously
damaged the Erzurum road in the Gümüşhane Valley.79 In 1881, the natural and
environmental conditions of the region through which the Trabzon-Erzurum road passed
were again the main cause of the deterioration of the road. Every year, the debris that
came down from the top of the mountains deteriorated the road. Moreover, avalanches
resulted in the death of many travelers during winter. To prevent both the flow of debris
77 PMOA, SD.MLK 1831/6, 15 Recep 1296 (5 July 1879)
78 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
79 “Report by Consul Biliotti on the Trade, Commerce, and Navigation of the Port and District of Trebizond
for the Year 1880,” in Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of Their
Consular Districts, Part VI, London: Harrison and Sons, July 1881, p. 1118.
208
and the fall of avalanches, there was need for the construction of large walls, which in
turn necessitated the expenditure of some extra money (in addition to the regular cost of
the repair, which was 4,810 liras.)80 Still, Thomas Stevens, the first man to circle the
world by bike between 1884 and 1886, found most of the road between Trabzon and
Erzurum in good condition.81 The following pictures display different maps of the
projects proposed in the mid-1880s concerning the repair of the road:
Figure X: Map of the Erzurum-Bayburt Road, PMOA, HRT.h 2536 (31 October 1883)
80 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19 Rebiyülâhır
1298 (21 March 1881)
81 Thomas Stevens, Around the World on a Bicycle: From San Francisco to Teheran (London: Sampson
Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1887), 421, 24, 29, 30.
209
210
Figure XI: Map of the Erzurum-Bayezid Road, PMOA, HRT.h 2520 (13 February 1884)
Figure XII: Map of the Trabzon-Tabriz Road, PMOA, I.MMS 78/3421 (15 July 1884)
211
Figure XIII: Map of the Bayburt-Bayezid Road, PMOA, HRT.h 1900 (13 January 1886)
212
In the 1890s, the climate and the geography continued to bother road-builders. In
1892, engineers built a new road which was 3,700 meters (2.2 miles) long in order to
avoid a section at the top of the Zigana Mountain. The abandoned part of the original
route was exposed to avalanches and hence threatened travelers’ lives.82 In 1895, the
deterioration of banks was the main reason the road and the trackwalkers’ huts needed
repair.83 Edwin Lord Weeks, an American artist who travelled from Trabzon to India,
described the road with the following words:
It is not easy to give the faintest notion of the roads, if roads they can be
called, over which our arabas labored with ever-increasing vicissitudes, and
as we approached the soaring passes near the boundary of Persia they rolled
and thundered over the rocks, straining and pitching like ships in foul
weather. . . . Imagine these passes of six, seven, or nine thousand feet in
height to occur not once or twice only, but day after day and week after
week, through the wilderness of mountains south of Ararat and along the
borders of Kurdistan. We once rode a hundred yards in the araba down the
bed of a river, and the sensation was like that of being tossed in a blanket. It
is hardly necessary to say, then, that our luggage suffered far more from the
endless grating and grinding of each package against its neighbor than if it
had been packed on horses.84
Under these circumstances, three cameleers (Yunus, Mustafa, and Ahmet) lost
forty-four camels, twenty horses, and six donkeys on Kop Mountain because the road
was too steep and thus too dangerous to take during a heavy snow storm in 1893. The
cameleers, whose financial loss reached 1,000 liras, wrote a petition to Istanbul begging
for mercy because at the time of the accident they had been transporting ammunition
from Trabzon to Erzurum for the state. Since the cameleers were contracted and not
82 “Umur-u Nafia,” Trabzon Salnamesi 1309 (1891-1892), 169
83 PMOA, BEO 628/47031, 28 Zilkade 1312 (23 May 1895)
84 Edwin Lord Weeks, From the Black Sea through Persia and India (New York: Harper and Brothers
Publishers, 1896), 6-7.
213
permanent state officials, they were not eligible for compensation for their dead animals.
Therefore, the Council of State decided to pay them only for their service in transporting
military goods.85
The cameleers were not satisfied by this response and wrote another petition to
the Fourth Army requesting financial help. They argued that they could not provide for
their families since they had lost their means of production, in other words their animals.
Besides, the cameleers had been working for the Ottoman state for many years.
Eventually, thanks to the arbitration of the officers, the Sublime Porte agreed to give the
cameleers financial aid and also made arrangements for their return to their hometowns.86
Similarly, military officials faced harsh winter weather conditions while
transporting ammunition and rifles from Trabzon to Erzurum four years later in 1897.
The carts carrying the weaponry were stuck at Zigana Mountain where there was at least
fifty-three inches of snow. Weather conditions were so bad that the soldiers spent five
days on a section of the road which would under normal circumstances take only eight
hours to travel. Moreover, it was impossible to go past Zigana Mountain; therefore,
authorities decided to transport the weapons from the top of the mountain down to the
outskirts on horseback. Since the rifle containers were too heavy for the horses, officials
had to unpack the containers and distribute the rifles among the horses.87
85 PMOA, SD 641/12, 2 Rebiyülevvel 1316 (21 July 1898); PMOA, BEO 1165/87326, 7 Rebiyülevvel
1316 (26 July 1898); PMOA BEO 1172/87856, 20 Rebiyülevvel 1316 (8 August 1898); PMAO, BEO
1177/88253, 28 Rebiyülevvel 1316 (16 August 1898)
86 Ibid.
87 PMOA, Y.PRK.ASK 134/58, 22 Cemaziyülahır 1315 (18 November 1897)
214
As usual, weather conditions were one of the main reasons why the road was
impassable in the early 1900s. In March 1903, snow closed the road between Diyadin and
Karakilise (modern-day Ağrı). As a result of this, a postal caravan that left Bayburt was
snowbound on the road. Similarly, a postal caravan coming from the other direction
(from Bayezid) had to wait in Kazı Village, which was two hours away from Karakilise.88
While the province of Erzurum wrestled with heavy snowstorms, the rain which
continued for ten to fifteen days in Gümüşhane in April 1903 not only damaged nearby
gardens and orchards, but also left the residents of seventeen households homeless.
Trabzon’s provincial government settled the homeless in nearby areas and built wooden
and stone embankments in order to prevent the occurrence of future floods.89 The rain
also damaged the Trabzon-Erzurum road to a great extent. It took a month for the
Ministry of Commerce and Public Works to open a temporary pass where a 136 meterlong
wall (446 feet) had collapsed during the heavy rainfall. The ministry employed five
hundred workers for this purpose.90
Two years later, conditions on the road had not changed very much. Kemal Bey,
an Ottoman official who travelled from Istanbul to Erzurum, described in a letter
addressed to the sultan how difficult it was to travel on the road. By July 29th 1905,
seventeen days after he left Trabzon, Kemal Bey’s luggage still had not arrived in
Erzurum. Kemal Bey compared Zigana and Kop Mountains –which were more than two
88 PMOA, DH.MKT 668/26, 18 Zilhicce 1320 (18 March 1903)
89 PMOA, DH.MKT 695/39, 29 Muharrem 1321 (27 April 1903)
90 PMOA, T.d. 245, 21 Nisan 319 (4 May 1903); PMOA, DH.MKT 716/67, 4 Rebiyülevvel 1321 (31 May
1903); PMAO, BEO 2083/156198, 7 Rebiyülevvel 1321 (3 June 1903)
215
thousand meters (6,560 feet) high- to a pile of hundreds of minarets. In spite of this,
Kemal Bey also acknowledged the efforts of Erzurum’s governor, Nazım Pasha, who
managed to build more than a hundred kilometers (sixty-two miles) of roads and stone
(kargir) bridges in the province every year.91
In general, the governors of Erzurum were aware of the roads’ significance to
their province. In 1909, Governor Mehmet Celal wrote a report about the absence of
roads in Erzurum. Because of the topography and harsh winter weather conditions, the
166 kilometer-long (103 miles) section of the Trabzon-Erzurum road which was within
the borders of Erzurum deteriorated very quickly. Part of the reason for this was that the
road passed through regions which were very elevated and mountainous. The lack of
trackwalkers who could immediately report deteriorations contributed to the problem.
Last but not least, the corruption of the authorities who were involved in the repair
process delayed construction efforts even further. Under these circumstances, the road
was neglected until it became totally impassable.92
The situation was even worse on the part of the road between Erzurum and
Bayezid. There was only forty-seven kilometers (twenty-nine miles) of macadamized
road and only eight kilometers (five miles) of the road’s surface was rolled. The rest,
which was 218 kilometers (135 miles) long, was passable but not in good shape at all.
Governor Mehmet Celal thought that the province would need some “two centuries” to
finish the construction of all the roads if work progressed at its current pace!93
91 PMOA, HSD.AFT 5/1, 26 Cemaziyülevvel 1323 (29 July1905)
92 PMOA, DH.MUI 10-2/7, 1 Ramazan 1327 (16 September 1909)
93 Ibid.
216
Under these circumstances, one of the options available to the authorities was
changing the path of the road in order to avoid sections which caused trouble. On May 7th
1911, the Ministry of Interior held a meeting with Burhannettin Bey, the Director of
Roads and Bridges (Turuk ve Maabir Müdürü). In the meeting, the ministry decided to
send a survey commission (heyet-i keşfiye) to Erzurum. After the survey, the engineers of
the commission decided to change the route of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. According to
the commission, Deveboynu Mountain –which was located between Erzurum and
Hasankale- forced the road up a 9-11 degree incline that made this section of the road
unsuitable for automobile traffic. The current route passed through the steepest parts of
the mountain and was exposed to heavy snow storms during the winter. Last but not least,
there was no place at all where the travelers could take shelter. Hence, the storms caused
the deaths of many people and animals. In contrast, the new route would be safe because
it passed near Söyüşlü Village. Thus, the extension of the road to Söyüşlü would help the
engineers avoid working in rocky terrain and save money. The engineers planned to start
the construction of the new route in 1912.94
A contractor, however, had already obtained the right to rebuild with a total cost
of 700 liras the old route which was 1.9 kilometers (1.2 miles) long. Ragıp Bey, the
acting governor (vali vekili) of Erzurum, was not sure whether he should let the
contractor repair the old route under these circumstances. A month later, the Minister of
Commerce and Public Works concluded the case by cancelling the repair of the old route
94 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
217
at Deveboynu. Instead, the minister decided to start the construction of the new road
which passed near Söyüşlü.95
A year later, snow storms were again the subject of official concerns.
Accordingly, military officers once again faced difficulties in transporting cannons from
Bayburt to Erzurum. The cannons were stuck in the snow on Kop Mountain. Local
officials in Aşkale organized 289 people to open the road. A few months later, the
military and the Ministry of Public Works were discussing which state agency was
responsible for the wages of these 289 men. In the end, the ministry agreed to meet the
expenses.96
Thus, harsh weather conditions and the topography of the region presented
numerous difficulties and problems to the Ottoman authorities both during the
construction and repair processes of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. The route near
Gümüşhane also marks a perfect example of how the environmental conditions of the
region challenged the engineers. The road at Gümüşhane passed near a river and was,
therefore, frequently exposed to floods. Therefore, engineers considered shifting the route
to higher elevations; but this would cause a tremendous increase in transportation costs
because the region was too steep. It is to this dilemma we now turn.
Changes in Route:
The route near Gümüşhane was subject to a decades-long debate. In 1871, when
the construction of the road was officially complete, the Trabzon-Erzurum road did not
95 Ibid.
96 PMOA, DH.ID 83-2/33, 3 Rebiyülevvel 1331 (10 February 1913)
218
pass through the center of Gümüşhane, but instead through a location that was half an
hour away from the city center. Trabzon’s provincial assembly demanded a change in the
route so that the road would enter the city and thus contribute to its economy. This
change, however, would give rise to three problems. First, it would cause an increase in
the slope of the road, thus making the transportation of loaded animals and cannons
difficult, maybe even impossible. Second, the new route lengthened the road, and last but
not least, it required the confiscation of some gardens in Gümüşhane city center and
therefore, which would waste a lot of money. In the end, the original plan survived and
workers constructed a side road that connected Gümüşhane city center to the main
Trabzon-Erzurum road –but this section of the road near Gümüşhane would be subject to
further debates in the following years.97
The residents of the town raised their voices first in 1873 and demanded the
reconstruction of a side road which connected the main Trabzon-Erzurum road to the
town center. The petition stated that the residents of Gümüşhane had been working as
forced labor in the construction of the main road and therefore refused to build the new
side road on their own.98 We do not know how the authorities replied to this demand, but
ten years later in 1884, the route near Gümüşhane still needed to be changed. Travelers
wanted to avoid eighty kilometers (fifty miles) of the road that decayed every year
because engineers had failed to choose the most appropriate route during the first stage of
97 PMOA, SD 1826/24, 29 Recep 1288 (14 October 1871)
98 PMOA, SD 1827/49, 1 Muharrem 1290 (1 March 1873)
219
the road’s construction back in the 1860s. If forced laborers rebuilt the road, then the total
cost of 6,000 liras would decrease to 3,000 liras.99
Authorities surveyed the road and a year later, they concluded that changing the
route would be disadvantageous. It is not clear why they thought this, but in the end, they
authorized only the repair of the main Trabzon-Erzurum road and refrained from the idea
of changing the route near Gümüşhane.100 Only four years later in 1889, the residents of
Gümüşhane once more declared that they wanted the road to pass through their
downtown. Only one resident, a certain Abdülrahim, opposed the idea because such a
change in the route would require spending a lot of money.101
Three years later in 1892, the debates about the proper route at Gümüşhane
surfaced once again. According to a petition signed by local residents, a change in the
route would not only cut the high costs of repairing the road every year, but would also
contribute to the local economy of the town.102 Among the petitioners were local notables
(eşraf), religious leaders (ulema), merchants (tüccar), artisans (esnaf), and commoners
(ahali) from all three millets residing in Gümüşhane (forty-four Armenians, forty
Muslims, and thirty-nine Ottoman Greeks).103
99 PMOA, I.MMS 78/3421, 21 Ramazan 1301 (15 July 1884)
100 PMOA, DH.MKT 1346/111, 13 Recep 1302 (28 April 1885)
101 PMOA, BEO.AYN.d 1224, 17 Teşrin-i evvel 1305 (29 October 1889)
102 PMOA, DH.MKT 1954/44, 2 Zilkade 1309 (29 May 1892); PMOA, BEO 11/803, 4 Zilkade 1309 (31
May 1892)
103 PMOA, SD 1844/11, 18 Zilhicce 1309 (14 July 1892)
220
The petitioners related their poverty to a decline in mining on which the economy
of Gümüşhane depended. This caused many of their relatives to leave their hometown
and settle in other parts of the empire.104 Although the petitioners did not mention
emigration, this had been also an actual problem ever since the Russo-Ottoman War of
1877-1878. In 1880, for example, Mr. Biliotti, the British consul to Trabzon, reported
that over the last two years a number of Ottoman Greeks living in Gümüşhane had
permanently emigrated to Russia. Prior to 1878, only males emigrated to find temporary
jobs; in 1880, whole families were leaving the Ottoman Empire for good.105
In 1892, the residents of Gümüşhane expected neither an economic rejuvenation
nor a reversal of the aforementioned demographic trends unless the government took
serious measures –such as a change in the route of the Trabzon-Erzurum road. Except
Kelkit and Şiran districts, the whole sub-province of Gümüşhane was very mountainous
and therefore lacked suitable and fertile land for agriculture. Therefore, in addition to
mining, trade was the only source of income for the residents of the town, and it was
unfair for them not to benefit from a commercial road they had been regularly forced to
repair over the course of the last twenty-five years.106
Originally, the road passed through the gardens of Gümüşhane, which were half
an hour away from the hill on top of which the downtown was located (the downtown
was close to the mines, which were not in operation anymore). At its original location,
104 Ibid.
105 “Report by Consul Biliotti on the Trade, Commerce, and Navigation of the District of Trebizond for the
Year 1879” in Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of their
Consular Districts, Part V, London: Harrison and Sons, July 1880, p. 1451.
106 PMOA, SD 1844/11, 18 Zilhicce 1309 (14 July 1892)
221
the road was exposed to floods, which took place at least once a year and continued for
two months. This had been the case at least for the last three years (1889, 1890, and
1891). Whenever floods spread all over the river basin which included also the road,
travelers had to divert uphill so that they could avoid the sections which were covered by
water. Moreover, Istanbul needed to annually spend millions of piasters in order to repair
the road.107
Therefore, the uphill shift in the route would not only increase the welfare of the
town but also help Istanbul save a lot of money. The government could use this extra
money to build the new route. The petitioners were also open to negotiation. First, they
offered to voluntarily evacuate those structures located on the proposed new route (most
probably the gardens, which required confiscation according to the document dated 1871
as mentioned above). Second, petitioners proposed to serve as forced labor in the road’s
construction for eight days rather than for four days (per year) as stated in the Charter of
Roads. Ismail Hakkı Effendi (a member of Gümüşhane’s ulema) also promised to
construct a barrack which would be big enough to shelter a battalion of soldiers in the
city’s downtown area.108
According to Hüseyin Tevfik Bey, the Minister of Commerce and Public Works, a
change in the route would barely benefit Gümüşhane. Tevfik Bey expected that travelers
would take the old route anyway, which followed the flat river basin. According to the
minister, the new route would climb a hill which was three hundred meters (984 feet) in
107 PMOA, BEO 11/803, 4 Zilkade 1309 (31 May 1892); PMOA, SD 1844/11, 18 Zilhicce 1309 (14 July
1892)
108 Ibid.
222
height. This would result in a ten percent increase in the slope of the road and require the
travelers to first climb up and then go down an extra six kilometers (3.7 miles).109 Thus,
the Ministry of Interior replied negatively to the demand of the petitioners and stated that
the previous efforts to change the route had proved to be futile and useless. The ministry,
however, also appointed the chief engineer of the Department of Roads and Bridges
(Turuk ve Maabir İdaresi) to reexamine the road once again. The engineer was supposed
to report whether there was any advantage in changing the route.110
The reexamination of the road did not yield the results expected by the residents
of Gümüşhane; thus, the road continued to bypass downtown. Fourteen years later (in
1906), the dwellers of Gümüşhane attempted to relocate the center of the town on their
own down to Daltaban where the Trabzon-Erzurum road passed. Istanbul asked the
provincial government in Trabzon to stop this attempt because it would harm the
development of the town.111 It is not clear why this risked Gümüşhane’s development but
another correspondence is clearer about the central government’s intentions.
Accordingly, Gümüşhane was an important military center and therefore needed a
telegraph office and municipal facilities. In Daltaban, however, there was only a barrack
which was big enough to shelter only a squadron of soldiers.112
109 Ibid.
110 PMOA, BEO 11/803, 4 Zilkade 1309 (31 May 1892); PMOA, DH.MKT 1963/22, 21 Zilkade 1309 (17
June 1892)
111 PMOA, DH.MKT 1130/74, 9 Şevval 1324 (26 November 1906)
112 PMOA, DH.MKT 1130/22, 6 Şevval 1324 (23 November 1906)
223
The relocation of Gümüşhane was related to the depreciation of the silver mines
on which the town’s economy had once depended. The last attempt to operate a mine
dated to 1883 when the Ottoman state gave a concession to the foreign company Daniel
Pappa et Co. Five years later (in 1888), the company ended its operation because it could
not make any profit. This accelerated the gradual resettlement of Gümüşhane’s
population in Harşit Valley which was four kilometers (2.5 miles) away from the original
downtown. Harşit Valley was the summer resort of Gümüşhane’s local notables where
they owned summer houses spread among their gardens and orchards.113 Alexander
MacDonald, who travelled along the road in 1891, noted this change in the landscape
when the road approached Gümüşhane through Harşit Valley. “When we emerged from
the rocky defile by which we had come to Gümüsch-Khane,” he recalled, “the valley of
the Karschut widened out into an open and cultivated region, many of the houses having
large gardens, with fruit trees in them, and were surrounded by stone walls.”114
Thus, due to the frequent damage caused by the environmental conditions and the
inefficiency of the engineers, the Ottoman state had to constantly deal with the rapid
deterioration of the road and sometimes tried to change the route. This was one of the
major reasons why the Trabzon-Bayezid road turned out to be a very expensive public
works project. The geography and the climate, however, posed problems for authorities
mainly concerning the parts of the road in rural areas. Outside of the countryside, what
made the construction too costly was the need to confiscate lands from the urban real
113 Metin Tuncel, "Türkiye'de Yer Değiştiren Şehirler ve Gümüşhane Örneği," in Geçmişte ve Günümüzde
Gümüşhane Sempozyumu (13-17 Haziran 1990), ed. Nasuhi Ünal Karaarslan (Ankara: Gümüşhane
Valiliği, 1991), 33.
114 MacDonald, 66.
224
estate owners. This was the case because authorities decided to widen the road in order to
appease some of the dangers that travelers faced due to the rough topographical and
climatic conditions. This is the subject matter of the next section.
Land and Contestation:
When the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road started in 1850, a
controversy emerged as it became clear that the project would require the demolition of
certain buildings in the road’s proposed path. In one such case, the houses on the streets
leading to the harbor in Trabzon were at the center of the dispute. These streets were
extremely narrow and therefore not suitable for big caravans to pass through. Some
streets were as narrow as 170-200 centimeters (2.5-3 arşın / 66-78 inches). Moreover, the
section of the road beyond these streets was full of dangerous cliffs and uphill curves,
through which neither men nor animals could easily pass. Officials estimated that it
would take at least a month to construct this section of the road. During this phase of the
construction, Istanbul bought some of the houses to be demolished in order to widen the
streets. The owners’ consent was required, and for a house that was 100 liras worth, the
state paid an extra 3-5 liras or even more. Overall, Istanbul spent a total of 300-400 liras
to widen the streets in Trabzon. When this was over, the Erzurum road and its travelers
could finally reach the Black Sea coast without any difficulties in the Trabzon city
center.115
115 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 24/71, 29 Zilkade 1266 (6 October 1850); PMOA, I.MVL 184/5532, 25 Zilkade
1266 (2 October 1850)
225
Meanwhile, officials faced a similar problem when the road was to pass through a
graveyard in the same neighborhood. John Kitto, an English scholar who travelled along
the road between 1832 and1833, noted a “beautiful burying-ground” as one of the first
sites he saw after entering Trabzon.116 Most likely, it was the same graveyard that
Ottoman officials had to remove in 1850 when they were widening the road. According
to local religious leaders (including the kadı –local judge- and the mufti), the state had to
move the graves because leaving them under the road would result in kerahet, an act that
is not necessarily banned by Islam, but not allowed either unless it is absolutely
necessary.117 This is indeed a very interesting case because the wording used in the
justification for the replacement of the graves suggests that local religious leaders did not
even bring up another route as an option. What they questioned was whether leaving or
replacing the graves was an illicit act. Thus, the practical mentality of the local
authorities, and not their religious identity, seems to have gained the upper hand.
In the following years, other cases of confiscation and demolition took place in
Trabzon. Yet in these cases, there was no such unanimity either among state officials or
between state officials and property owners. One such example is a story from 1858
when a confiscation resulted in a corruption investigation. By November 1858, the state
had already purchased and demolished the houses owned by Kali Dağlı Hussein and Arab
Mehmet Agha. Authorities had merged a part of the newly-leveled land into the road in
116 John Kitto, Memoirs of John Kitto. Compiled Chiefly from His Letters and Journals by J. E. Ryland,
with a Critical Estimate of Dr. Kitto's Life and Writings by Professor Eadie (Edinburg: W. Oliphant &
Sons, 1856), 500.
117 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 24/71, 29 Zilkade 1266 (6 October 1850); PMOA, I.MVL 184/5532, 25 Zilkade
1266 (2 October 1850)
226
order to widen it. The muleteers and other travelers used the rest of the land, which was
approximately 32 square meters (460 zira’ – 344 square feet)118, as a dump site. In an
auction, Abdülzade Hacı Hamdi Effendi from Trabzon purchased the site for 100 liras.
Similarly, authorities merged a part of Çilingiroğlu Ali Agha’s garden with the road and
sold the rest of the land, which was approximately 175 square meters (2,529 zira’ – 1,883
square feet), back to him for 40 liras. However, the 40 liras and the documents certifying
the sale were missing. There was an investigation to find out who embezzled the money,
but archival documents do not reveal how this investigation proceeded and concluded.119
Similarly, in 1869, the state confiscated houses and gardens between Elköse and
the Eastern Square (Meydan-ı Şarki) in Trabzon city center for 217.5 liras. In addition,
some owners agreed to voluntarily leave their houses without compensation. In the
meantime, the state needed 282.5 liras for the construction of a bridge and the
replacement of water pipelines along the road. The governor of Erzurum asked local
wealthy families to provide 500 liras to fund these expenditures.120
Three years later, in 1872, another disagreement occurred between the
administration and the local notables, this time in Gümüşhane. First, Kapıcıbaşı Hacı
118 These are very roughly calculated numbers. The document uses the term zira’ to indicate the amount of
land, but dictionaries define zira’ only as a measure of length. Parlatır includes zira’-i mesaha as the only
measure of surface which has the term zira’ in it. Therefore, I assume that the scribe abbreviated zira’-i
mesaha as zira’. Parlatır defines zira’-i mesaha as “yedi kabza ile bir dikili parmak uzunluğunda olan arazi
ölçüsü.” Kabza is defined in the same dictionary as “dört parmaklık ölçü” which can be translated as a
measure of length (ölçü) when four fingers (dört parmak) are put next to one another. Assuming that a
kabza would be approximately 10 centimeters, “yedi (7) kabza” would make up to 70 centimeters. I also
assume that “bir dikili parmak” (an upright finger) is 10 centimeters long. Based on this calculation, 1
zira’-i mesaha (zira’) would be approximately 700 square centimeters [(70 cm x 10 cm) or (yedi kabza x
bir dikili parmak)]. Parlatır, Osmanlı Türkçesi Sözlüğü.
119 PMOA, MVL 578/81, 14 Rebiyülahır 1275 (21 November 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 103/47, 21
Rebiyülahır 1275 (28 November 1858)
120 PMOA, I.DH 587/40828, 24 Şevval 1285 (7 February 1869)
227
Kadri Effendi lost some parts of his house and six shops to confiscation and in return
received two liras from the Trabzon-Erzurum road budget. Kadri Effendi claimed that he
had spent 30 liras in order to repair the demolished parts of his real estate and therefore
demanded full compensation from the government. Upon investigation, the Council of
State revealed that the house and the shops belonged not to Kadri Effendi but to his
acquaintances Halil Bey and Edhem Bey. Therefore, Kadri Effendi’s petition lacked legal
standing and the Council refused to discuss the matter further.121
Second, Izzet Effendi and his sister Ayşe Hanım wrote a petition about the
demolishment of their khan and two shops in Gümüşhane’s Demirkapı neighborhood.
They had inherited the khan and the shops from their father Ibrahim Effendi. The siblings
requested reparation from the government. Istanbul rejected their demand because Izzet
Effendi and Ayşe Hanım had already been compensated with a new piece of land where
the old route of the Trabzon-Erzurum road passed. Moreover, this new land that they now
legally owned was larger than the one they had to sacrifice for the new route.122
Almost thirty years later, in 1904, the state needed 120 liras to confiscate five
stores in Gümüşhane for the repair of the road.123 In 1914, there was still controversy
about how to deal with confiscation cases. In the meantime, the Ottoman state passed a
Confiscation Decree (Istimlak Kararnamesi) and thus dealt with the issue in a much more
systematic manner. Law, however, was a contested domain and its ambiguities provided
opportunities for the subjects of the empire to seek redress.
121 PMOA, SD 1827/35, 28 Recep 1289 (1 October 1872)
122 Ibid.
123 PMOA, T.d. 250, 19 Temmuz 1320 (1 August 1904)
228
In 1914, engineers wanted a slight change in the route between Pasinler and
Köprüköy on the Erzurum-Bayezid road because a high slope made it very difficult for
travelers to pass. The new route would cut across two fields that Istanbul wanted to
expropriate. Based on their rights articulated in the amended articles of the Confiscation
Decree published in the 1807th issue of Takvim-i Vakayi, the owners of the fields who had
title deeds demanded compensation. Otherwise, the route should stay as it was.
According to the Office of Chief Engineer in the Ministry of Public Works, the
Confiscation Decree did not refer to the construction of imperial (umum) roads or
bridges. The first article of the amended decree applied only to cases in which roads
passed through “valuable” (kıymetdar) land within or outside the cities and towns. Under
any other circumstances, the state was not obliged to pay compensation for confiscated
lands.124
Despite the opposition from the ministry, the governor of Erzurum consulted the
Council of State for a second opinion because he was not clear about what the ministry
meant by “valuable” lands and whether or not this categorization applied to the two fields
which were the subject matter of the current case he was trying to resolve. In other words,
the governor’s office preferred supporting the field owners as opposed to the central
government and believed that the first article of the Confiscation Decree should apply to
all road-building projects regardless of the land’s value. Therefore, according to the
governor, the decision of the ministry was in violation of the decree. It was unfair not to
pay any money to the field owners who possessed title deeds.125
124 PMOA, DH.ID 178/28, 28 Recep 1332 (22 June 1914)
125 Ibid.
229
We do not know whether the field owners received compensation in the end.
These cases, however, demonstrate that problems related to land and property ownership
were a major issue during the construction and repair of the Trabzon-Bayezid road.
Sometimes, authorities were able to solve the confiscation cases very smoothly and easily
and widened the streets in Trabzon which led to the Erzurum road. As the case of the
graveyard replacement clearly points out, even religious officials were eager to promote
the construction of the road and therefore authorized the replacement of the graves.
Sometimes, however, claims on the same land by both state agents and property
owners led to conflicts. This should not be a surprise given the fact that land in Trabzon
was becoming more and more valuable. As early as the 1850s for example, Trabzon
experienced a construction boom; according to Walpole, “the green was really green, and
the houses really white; and with their red-tiled roofs and pretty overhanging verandahs,
had a very picturesque appearance; while new buildings and a bustle bespoke trade, -
money-making trade, -and consequent prosperity.”126 In 1859, the real estate market in
Trabzon was valued at 51,746 liras which constituted a third of all the provincial
revenues in Trabzon.127 A decade later, Mr. W. Gifford Palgrave, the British consul to
Trabzon, made the following observation:
The three traffics already specified [the Persian, the East Anatolian, and the
coast trade from Batumi to Giresun], and hence the steam traffic to and fro,
with Constantinople and Europe, are steadily on the increase. The great rise
in house-rent and the constant building of new houses at Trebizond –a place
126 Walpole, 224.
127 Turgay, 67.
230
the only attractions of which, whether for natives or Europeans, are
commercial- is a collateral proof.128
Hence by 1881, the real estate market in Trabzon was now worth five million liras
due to the city’s escalating commercial significance.129 Erzurum was also growing. James
Brassett reported in 1871 that the walls of the city were demolished in order to “make
room for new buildings.”130 In this context, not even legal arrangements like the
Confiscation Decree would be able to prevent disagreements from surfacing between
officials and local notables, especially concerning expropriation cases.
Conclusion:
At the turn of the twentieth century, the Ottoman Empire was face to face with a
vicious circle. In the early 1850s, the inexperience of the engineers had caused low
quality in their work. They also failed to understand the topographic, geographic, and
climatic requirements of the region, which led to constant problems of damage and decay
on the road. The need to frequently repair the road, in turn, created a tremendous
financial burden for the central treasury. This made solving technological problems, such
as replacing the iron wheels of carriages –as discussed in the previous chapter- even more
difficult.
128 “Report on the Provinces of Trebizond, Sivas, Kastemouni, and Part of Angora, by Mr. Consul W.
Gifford Palgrave” in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls
During the Year 1868, August to December, London, February 1869, p. 345
129 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19
Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881)
130 Bassett, 24.
231
In this context, some officials proposed changing the route of the road in order to
avoid the sections which frequently deteriorated because of their exposure to floods,
avalanches, and other hazards. The technological problems that the engineers faced
because of such environmental handicaps also caused disagreements between local and
central officials. The latter were especially careless about the environmental conditions of
the surrounding region through which the road passed. In this context, given the military
significance of the road, the Fourth Army sometimes attempted to undertake the
management and maintenance of the road under its jurisdiction in order to avoid conflict
and miscommunication between central and local governments.
In addition to the technological challenges of the construction, authorities were
also confronted with another problem that increased the cost of the project. This
concerned the confiscation of private property in or near urban areas through which the
road passed. As authorities tried to solve the infrastructural problems related to the road’s
construction, one easy solution was to widen the road. This, however, usually required
the confiscation of real estate, which further increased the financial burden of the whole
project.
The question of land and where exactly the road was supposed to pass was also
related to the regional importance of the road which brought a variety of local, provincial,
and imperial actors together. Now, we turn to this discussion.
232
CHAPTER IV
REGIONAL SIGNIFICANCE OF THE ROAD:
FRAGMENTATION IN PROVINCIAL POLITICS AND TRANSNATIONALISM
A place which you cannot reach does not belong to you.
Halil Rıfat Pasha, Governor of Sivas (1882-1885)1
Introduction:
This chapter will place the Trabzon-Bayezid road in a local and regional context.2
By localizing and regionalizing the history of the road, this chapter looks to expose the
stories of a variety of actors who were involved in the construction and repair of the road.
Constituting different social and political power groups, these actors were sometimes in
collaboration but mostly in conflict with one another. These controversial aspects of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road can help illuminate whose interests were at stake throughout the
construction. In other words, these discussions can shed light on the human aspects of
1 “Ulasamadıgın yer senin degildir.” Karayolları-Genel-Müdürlügü, Karayolları Bülteni 2, no. 16 (1952):
1. During his term, Halil Rıfat Pasa built many roads and bridges in Sivas province. For further information
on his road-building projects see, Açıkel and Hanilçe, 93.
2 In this chapter, I use the word “local” not only as opposed to the “central” but also in relation to the
multiple dimensions in which the provincial politics of Trabzon and Erzurum functioned. Hence, as will be
discussed further soon, “local” does not only refer to the Trabzon and Erzurum provinces (as opposed to the
imperial center) but also to the diversity within these two provinces in terms of their socio-economic and
environmental conditions. In other words, in this chapter, the term “local” will help to fragment the term
“provincial.” In turn, the concept “regional” will be used to bring these multiple local-provincial actors
together with not only the imperial center but also with a variety of trans-imperial actors, ranging from
Russian and Iranian merchants to European diplomats. Accordingly, the “Ottoman” Northeast was a region
which had close ties and connections with the two neighboring empires. Thanks to this porosity, this
borderland region was also of interest to world economy and politics, and hence to many Europeans.
233
what appears at first glance to be only a technical mission or an engineering project. In
turn, this perspective can make it possible to approach the construction of the road not
simply as an objective developmentalist or infrastructural project, but also to analyze how
it was embedded within a web of power relations.
Second, regionalizing the history of the road will shift the focus of this
dissertation from a state-centric viewpoint to a contested arena in which multiple actors,
including state officials, were negotiating. This, in turn, can lead to a more nuanced
debate on the nature of the modern Ottoman state. After all, the Ottoman state, like any
other state in the world, was not isolated from social and local dynamics. On the contrary,
a critical analysis of the construction process of the Trabzon-Bayezid road can overcome
a discourse based on state-society dichotomy and demonstrate how the Ottoman state
actually functioned in a social context. Thus, localizing the history of the road provides
researchers with an invaluable opportunity to debunk the representation of modern states
as omnipresent entities. As discussed in the introduction, for the Ottoman state, the road
constituted a major step in the Empire’s attempts to modernize. Therefore, this chapter
will identify the Trabzon-Bayezid road as a modern state institution with the goal of finetuning
this concept and pointing out its fragmented, local, social, and dynamic nature.
Highlighting the contradictory and fragmented nature of modern states may help refute
the assumption that they were efficiently operating units targeting a full-scale and
flawless organization of society. On the contrary, modern states should be characterized
as non-unified bodies. As Migdal observes:
Some researchers have gone so far as to reify and anthropomorphize the
state, treating it as a unitary actor that assesses its situation strategically and
then acts accordingly to maximize its interests. Unfortunately, by treating
the state as an organic entity and giving it an ontological status, such
234
scholars have obscured state formation and the dynamics of the struggle for
domination in societies. . . . [They] also trivialize the question of state
formation by trivializing historical contingencies and the struggles inherent
in that process. . . . The role of the state is itself an object of the struggle. 3
In this context, pinpointing the fragmented nature of modern states should also
reveal their local and social backgrounds, in other words, the social contexts in which
they function and also their local roots. This approach may help avoid an abstract notion
of modernization as the sole actor of change and demonstrate that “modern” institutions
were not necessarily the result of “modernizing” ideas or ideals but of concrete social and
local material conditions. Thus, the assumption that the local was absorbed within the
“national” parallel to the emergence of the modern state may be also challenged.
Accordingly, “scholars understand the state to be the culmination of a process
transcending the old localized organizations in societies, which had previously made the
rules.”4 On the contrary, this chapter will present the local and social contexts in which
certain modern state policies were born with regards to Ottoman road reform.
Finally, highlighting the fragmented and contradictory nature of modern states
may hint at both their dynamism and their imperfection. This approach may explain how
the emergence of the modern state did not result in a “success” story but rather led to a
3 Migdal, 8, 10.
4 Ibid., 12. Even though Migdal develops the “the state in society” approach and says “the state is, in fact,
yet another organization in society,” his very analysis also reproduces modernization paradigm. First,
Migdal insists on prioritizing the “state” over the “society”: “In the modern world, it is impossible to
understand the term “society” without the state. The formation of the state has created and activated the
society”. Thus, Migdal identifies the “state” as the agent of historical change rather than “society.” In
contrast, this chapter will argue that modern states were locally and socially constructed. More broadly, this
dissertation puts forward that modern states were a response to everyday needs and demands rather than
ubiquitous and unified entities that overwhelmed the social realm. Furthermore, Migdal also engages in a
Eurocentric perspective when he claims that “the mutually transforming nature of state-society interactions
. . . may indeed be more obvious in the Third World than in the highly industrialized countries –just as in
England and France in the seventeenth century.” Thus, Migdal falls victim to the teleological and
progressive understanding of history which the modernization paradigm advocates. Ibid., 11, 23, 26.
235
never-ending formation process. As Blumi puts forward, “imperial projects do not
confirm to predictable models.”5 Moreover, localizing the history of modern state
institutions may not only underline the unpredictability of imperial projects but also
display how local politics shaped and constituted these projects, ones that historians
continue to anachronistically and retrospectively associate with the modernization of the
central Ottoman state.
For these purposes, this chapter will first present a very short overview of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road’s significance for the regional economy. Then, it will move to the
conflicts between a vairety of local and provincial actors regarding their differing
interests in the road. The goal of this chapter is to highlight the fluidity of the boundaries
between the Trabzon and Erzurum provinces and of the borders between the Ottoman
Empire, Imperial Russia, Qajar Dynasty, and Europe. Accordingly, on various occasions,
the importance of the road transcended provincial and imperial territories and brought
several trans-imperial actors into the debates revolving around the Trabzon-Bayezid road.
In turn, this multiplicity of spatial layers on which the road functioned may lead to a new
definition of the modern Ottoman state and bring forward its roots in a local context
rather than taking its “central” character for granted.
Regional Economy:
This dissertation focuses specifically on the social history of the Trabzon-Bayezid
road, thus setting aside its impact on the regional economy. Notwithstanding this
5 Isa Blumi, Chaos in Yemen: Societal Collapse and the New Authoritarianism (London & New York:
Routledge, 2011), 35.
236
handicap, several themes developed in this dissertation (in particular, migration and
highway robbery as will be discussed in the following chapters) highlight the regional
framework within which the road functioned. Thus, northeastern Anatolia, through which
the Trabzon-Bayezid road passed, was not confined by the Ottoman territories but had
close ties with northern Iran and Transcaucasia as well. Paradoxically, while the road
linked the Ottomans with their neighbors, there were (dis)connections between different
parts of the region that belonged to the Ottoman Northeast. Finally, how different parts of
this wide region should come together or whether they should come together caused
major debates between a variety of actors.
In the early twentieth century, Ottoman officials viewed the road as a means of
unifying their territories in Eastern Anatolia. Accordingly, the quest to find a shorter road
from Erzurum to the Black Sea was on the agenda of many officials. In 1903, Erzurum’s
provincial government complained that the surplus of its agricultural produce decayed in
storehouses since the Trabzon road was too long, thus making the transportation costs too
expensive.6 These concerns continued throughout the first decade of the twentieth
century. In 1909, Erzurum’s Governor Mehmet Celal wrote a report in which he argued
that the province urgently needed a road to connect via automobile traffic the province to
the Black Sea coast. Moreover, according to the governor, the renovation of the Erzurum-
Bayezid section should be finished and two junctions, one to Diyarbakir and the other to
the Russian border, should be constructed from the main Trabzon-Erzurum route.
Currently, the absence of roads in the province allowed its dwellers only to export their
6 PMOA, BEO 2184/163770, 12 Recep 1321 (4 October 1903)
237
live animals which could move on their own; but they had a hard time in transporting
their agricultural produce to the market.7
The lack of sufficient transportation facilities also turned minor crop failures into
widespread famine in the region. In contrast, when Eastern Anatolia benefitted from good
harvest, the only result was decline in local grain prices because the province lacked a
road network that would allow it to transport its surplus grain to imperial and foreign
markets. If the state sacrificed 200,000 liras for the construction of roads in Erzurum,
however, the annual income of the province would increase at least by 100,000 liras
according to the governor. Thus, Erzurum would recover the high costs of construction in
a very short while and would become one of the richest provinces of the empire.8
These observations of the Erzurum governor point out the regional and transimperial
framework within which the road functioned in the late nineteenth and early
twentieth centuries. Whereas Erzurum’s soil was very fertile, the farmers were unable to
export their produce to other markets. Therefore, fresh products decomposed in
storehouses whereas the neighboring province Trabzon had to import food supplies from
Europe and the Americas in order to feed its population of a million and a half. This was
the case because Trabzon lacked enough fertile soil for agriculture. Thus, whereas there
was surplus grain in Erzurum, its neighbor Trabzon was importing food supplies from
foreign markets.9
7 PMOA, DH.MUI 10-2/7, 1 Ramazan 1327 (16 September 1909)
8 Ibid.
9 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
238
In turn, Trabzon financed the imbalance in its trade income with the remittances
of its residents –predominantly from the Lazistan sub-province- who worked in Russian
mines. At the same time however, there were rich iron, copper, and coal mines on Hınıs
Mountain just to the south of Erzurum. Thus, instead of emigrating to Russia as seasonal
workers, the residents of Trabzon could actually work in Ottoman mines. This irony
could be overcome only if the two provinces were able to communicate with one another
in an efficient manner.10 In other words, in the presence of better transportation facilities,
the Lazistan sub-province could be integrated into the local economy of Erzurum in
contrast to its current isolation from the rest of the Ottoman Empire and its more close
connections with Imperial Russia.
First of all, if transportation were cheaper, then Erzurum’s produce could easily
compete with the foreign goods that Trabzon imported. In 1912, the price of 36.5
kilograms (one kile11 – eighty pounds) of wheat increased from 30 piasters to 44.5
piasters after merchants transferred it from Erzurum to Trabzon. The equivalent prices for
barley were 15 and 29.5 piasters in Erzurum and Trabzon respectively. Due to the high
transportation costs and the variances in local prices, Erzurum’s merchants preferred to
keep their products in warehouses until a more appropriate time arrived, like a famine or
war, so that they could sell their goods with high profit on the market.12
Whereas Trabzon needed Erzurum’s grain, Erzurum needed to export fresh
produce such as fruits, vegetables, and timber from Trabzon. In this context, the Russo-
10 Ibid.
11 1 kile was 36.5 kilos. See New Redhouse Turkish-English Dictionary.
12 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
239
Ottoman War of 1877-1878 would give a new function to the Trabzon-Erzurum road.
Accordingly, the Treaty of Berlin, which was signed at the end of the war, assigned
Soganlı Mountain (near Sarıkamıs) to Imperial Russia.13 The forests of this mountain,
however, were the main source of timber for Erzurum. As William John Hamilton
observed in 1835, this area of Anatolia was extremely barren and therefore in desperate
need for wood:
The great drawback to the beauty of the country is the total absence of trees
or wood of any kind, whether on the plain itself or on the surrounding hills.
. . . A total want of wood of almost every kind seems to be the peculiar
characteristic of this elevated part of Armenia. . . . This [Soganlı] forest
range is an important and interesting feature in the geography of this part of
the country. It supplies both Erzeroum and Kars with fire-wood, although
upwards of seventy miles distant from the former place, being the only
district in which forests of any extent are to be found for many miles round;
. . . .14
John Ussher also noted the barren nature of the mountains between Erzurum and
Bayezid. Wood and timber were therefore too expensive in Erzurum where people
burned dried cow dung as fuel in the winter.15 While one may question these European
travelers’ observations because of their Orientalist biases, Kemal Bey, an Ottoman
official who took the Trabzon-Erzurum road in 1905, also took note of the sharp contrast
between the two provinces’ floras. Whereas forests surrounded the road in Trabzon,
trees immediately left the scene as soon as one passed the borderline between Trabzon
and Erzurum. According to Kemal Bey, this situation also symbolized the differences
between the two provinces’ level of wealth and richness. While there were some gardens
13 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
14 Hamilton, 177, 83, 89.
15 Ussher, 670, 74.
240
and orchards in Erzurum, they all belonged to local notables. Therefore, the city needed
to import fruit and vegetable from Trabzon in order to feed its population.16
Due to the lack of trees and thick forests, Soganlı Mountain was the closest and
primary source of timber for Erzurum as Alexander Pushkin, who travelled to Erzurum
during the Russo-Ottoman War of 1829, also confirmed.17 Therefore, when this mountain
was lost to Russia in 1878, Erzurum faced a serious shortage of timber:
Owing to the occupation of the Deve-Boyun Pass and Olti Valley, and
consequent cutting off of the usual wood supply from the forest of the
Soghanli Dagh, fuel is scare and dear. Some does reach us from the
direction of Ersingan, but it is very little; and the distance from which it has
to be conveyed renders its price so high as to put it beyond the reach of
ordinary purses.18
After the 1877-1878 War, Derindere Forest (located between Trabzon and
Bayburt) became the closest source of timber for Erzurum.19 In this context, the repair of
the Trabzon-Erzurum road became urgent for the regular supply of timber to this
province. Therefore, the Istanbul government wanted to repair the Derindere road which
linked the forest to the main Trabzon-Erzurum road.20
In exchange for timber, fruit, and vegetable, Erzurum exported yearly 1,600 tons
of leather, wool, egg, yellow cheese (kasar peyniri), beef bacon (pastırma), catgut
(bagırsak), suet (iç yagı), linseed (keten tohumu), asphodel (çiris otu), bee wax
16 PMOA, HSD.AFT 5/1, 26 Cemaziyülevvel 1323 (29 July1905)
17 Alexander Pushkin, A Journey to Arzrum, trans. Birgitta Ingemanson (Ann Arbor: Ardis, 1974), 80-81.
18 The War Correspondence of the "Daily News" 1877-1878 Continued from the Fall of Kars to the
Signature of the Preliminaries of Peace with a Connecting Narrative Forming a Continuous History of the
War between Russia and Turkey, vol. 2 (London: Macmillan and Co., 1878), 430.
19 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
20 PMOA, DH.MKT 1330/13, 9 Rebiyülevvel 1297 (20 February 1880)
241
(balmumu), and straw mats (hasır). In return, the province imported 16,000 tons of goods
from outside. For example, the province was importing iron, copper, sugar, and kerosene
(gazyagı) from Russia. Russians were sending these items to Trabzon by sea and then
Trabzon transported them to Erzurum via the Trabzon-Erzurum road. Russian ships were
also selling flour and corn to the residents of Lazistan sub-province in Trabzon. Finally,
the region also imported ironware and copperware from Europe.21
Despite this traffic of goods between Trabzon and Erzurum, the road was a major
source of debate for the local governments of both provinces throughout most of the
nineteenth century. At the root of this discussion lied the question of the primary function
of the road. For Trabzon, the road had a commercial significance first and foremost
because, as the biggest port city of the eastern Black Sea coast, the province wanted to
extract as many resources as possible from the interior regions and thus increase the
volume of trade that passed through its harbor. On the contrary, for Erzurum, the main
function of the road was to serve the military since the province was the center of the
Ottoman Fourth Army for most of the nineteenth century. These two divergent
perspectives created differences also in terms of how the local population should make
use of the road and which alternative routes in the region should be renovated. These are
the subject matters of the following sections.
Provincial Governments in Disagreement: Clashes within the State Structure
After the construction of the Erzurum-Bayburt section of the road was finished in
1858, some officials suggested that the state should build the rest of the road between
21 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
242
Bayburt and Trabzon using the same procedure, meaning the use of forced labor. This
part of the road was not easy to pass and therefore much more difficult to build compared
to the Erzurum-Bayburt section. Therefore, authorities were to make sure that people
built the road for free without any violence or pressure imposed upon them (ameliyatın
taaddisiz olarak icra ettirilmesi).22
For the same reasons, the construction of the Trabzon-Bayburt section required
much more capital and labor. In this context, the application of the forced labor system
demanded a much more complex organizational procedure compared to the previous
Ezrurum-Bayburt section, which could place burdens both on the state and the local
society. On these grounds, Arif Bey, the governor of Erzurum, suggested that the state
should not construct the road with new construction techniques but only widen it and
move it away from cliffs so that at least two coaches or two loaded animals could pass at
the same time.23
Even though the governor provided some justification for his thoughts, it remains
unclear why he did not want the state to use new building techniques for a road that could
connect his province to the sea. Yet another incident taking place a year later suggests
that Arif Bey clearly did not want the Trabzon-Erzurum road to be in good condition. In
1859, the engineers Ali and Selim Effendi arrived in Trabzon in order to inspect the
construction process. Nonetheless, as a result of poor weather conditions, the engineers
were forced to hurry their inspection of the road. Consequently, Trabzon’s Governor
22 PMOA, A.AMD 82/58, 25 Saban 1274 (10 April 1858); PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 256/21 4 Sevval 1274 (18
May 1858)
23 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 336/70, 25 Rebiyülahır 1275 (2 December 1858)
243
Izzet Pasha demanded that the Porte send the engineers back to the city so that they could
carry out a second inspection. Hearing about the second proposed inspection, Arif Bey
claimed that he recently had the chance to observe the road on his way to Istanbul and
that it was in good structural order. Stated simply, the governor of Erzurum found no
need for further inspection.24
Simultaneously, a discussion was occurring about where the center of the imperial
army in Anatolia should be located. If Erzurum were to become the new center, then
another road could be built to connect Erzurum not to Trabzon but to Rize in the Lazistan
sub-province.25 In this scenario, the construction of the Trabzon road would be redundant
since the Rize road would provide an alternative and shorter route linking the city to the
Black Sea coast. If the army remained in Erzincan, however, the Trabzon road would first
divert from Gümüshane to Erzincan –an extra twenty-four more hours- and then, the road
would connect from Erzincan to Erzurum.26 This proposal made the road even longer.
Moreover, in this scenario, the road bypassed Bayburt whose economy depended upon
the commerce taking place along the Trabzon-Erzurum road.
Most probably, as the governor of Erzurum, Arif Bey advocated that the center of
the army should shift from Erzincan to Erzurum, a move that would give his city not only
greater political significance but also a shorter road to Rize. Moreover, if Erzurum
became the new center of the Anatolian army, Bayburt would not lose its importance.
Still, due to the Erzurum-Rize road’s proximity to the Russian border, Ottoman
24 PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 295/99, 24 Rebiyülahır 12 1276 (20 November 1859)
25 PMOA, A.MKT.NZD 297/7, 5 Cemaziyülevvel 1276 (30 November 1859)
26 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 386/24, 24 Cemaziyülevvel 1276 (19 December 1859)
244
authorities decided to refrain from this alternative route. Therefore, in the end,
construction continued on the Trabzon, and not the Rize, road.27
This example nicely demonstrates the fragmented nature of the modern Ottoman
state. There was not a unified state interest among provincial interests. Thus, asserting
that the Trabzon-Bayezid road promoted the modern state’s interests because it
revitalized agriculture and commerce or because it provided security would present a
simplistic picture of the diversity and multiplicity of actors whose interests were at stake.
In this case in point, there was an obvious clash of interests between Erzurum and
Trabzon provincial governments. Moreover, as the following section will clarify, this
clash was not a unique event taking place in 1858. Fifteen years later in 1873, the
Trabzon-Erzurum road was still a source of conflict between the two provinces.
Ohannes’ Ottoman Company: Economic Benefits vs. Military Hazards
In 1873, the initiative of Ohannes, an Armenian Trabzon resident, to establish a
coach company between Trabzon and Erzurum caused another tension between the two
provincial governments. By 1873, two years had already passed since the Trabzon-
Erzurum road’s construction was over. Yet the road did not yield the expected results
such as an increase in commerce or agriculture. According to Ohannes, the absence of a
coach company was the reason behind this disappointment. Peasants and merchants still
used animal power to carry their goods and produce. This prevented a decline in
transportation costs and therefore, the Iranian merchants used the roads in Caucasia to
reach the Black Sea coast. Meanwhile, Russia was building a railroad line connecting
27 Ibid.
245
Tbilisi to Poti which would further decrease the number of travelers on the Trabzon-
Bayezid road.28
Under these circumstances, Ohannes saw the foundation of a coach company as
the only means for excelerating the development of transportation on the Trabzon-
Erzurum road and thus being able to compete with Russia and turn the road into a
profitable investment. It is meaningful that Ohannes’ offer coincided with the annulment
of the Ottoman customs tariff in 1873.29 Most probably, Ohannes expected an increase in
the number of the Iranian transit trade merchants who would prefer the Trabzon-Erzurum
road instead of the alternative routes in Caucasia. Therefore, he wanted to benefit from a
possible growth in traffic.
The contract submitted by Ohannes to the Sublime Porte named the corporation as
Ottoman Company (Kumpanya-i Osmaniye) which would be subject to Ottoman laws for
the next twenty-five years. According to the agreement, the passage of peasants’ animals
and carriages which were loaded with commercial and agricultural goods was to be free.
For transit trade goods, merchants had to pay twenty-five piasters for every fifty-six
kilograms (one kantar or forty-four kıyye – 123 pounds). The company had to carry the
mail every week without delay. In return, the state had to pay the company 250 liras
every three months. The company could also carry individual travelers and charge them
five piasters per hour. Thus, the fifty-seven hour journey between Trabzon and Erzurum
would cost 2.85 liras in total. Travelers could get on and off the coach at any point on the
28 PMOA, SD 1827/21, 12 Zilkade 1289 (11 January 1873)
29 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 460/6, 4 Cemaziyülahır 1290 (30 July 1873)
246
road. In this case, the company would charge them according to the above mentioned rate
of fare: five piasters per hour.30
The company had to transmit yearly 770 tons of weapons and military equipment
for the Ottoman state during peacetime. During war, this amount would increase up to
2,500 tons. If the state needed more than this amount, then the company would use its
extra coaches for this purpose unless this negatively affected commercial transportation.
The company would charge the state the above-mentioned rate for conveying military
goods. In return, the state would be responsible for maintaining the shape of the road. For
this purpose, the company had to reimburse to the provincial treasury of Trabzon five
hundred liras every three months. The state also had to give the company at no charge the
miri lands on which it would build staple houses and barns for the coach animals. At the
end of the twenty-five years, the company would be required to return these lands to the
state. According to Ohannes, all of the movable and unmovable properties that belonged
to the company should be tax-free. The state could not award the same privileges to
another company during the twenty-five years. At the end of the contract, the government
had to favor the Ottoman Company if another corporation applied to obtain the same
privileges concerning the roads in the Trabzon province. The company promised to start
operating in ten months after the two sides signed the contract.31
Local actors such as Ohannes were not the only individuals looking to profit from
the road. Previously in 1871, the Austrian consul in Trabzon had made a similar claim to
set up a coach company. The Austrian-backed company offered to decrease the costs of
30 PMOA, SD 1827/21, 12 Zilkade 1289 (11 January 1873)
31 Ibid.
247
transportation, a deduction that would be twenty percent less than the prices charged by
the muleteers. Yet, the Sublime Porte had denied the consul’s request because it was
unfair to the people who had built the road as forced labor. According to the Porte, it was
possible to give such a privilege to a corporation only if it was not going to constitute a
monopoly. In its decision about Ohannes’ Ottoman Company, the government repeated
the same ruling. In addition, the government expected the company to carry the mail for
free and pay for the total cost of repairing the road. Moreover, in the government’s
opinion, the company should not be allowed to pass the privileges to another corporation.
Last but not least, all of the founders of the company had to be Ottoman subjects and the
duration of the concession should not exceed fifteen years.32
Meanwhile, since its completion in 1871, the Trabzon-Erzurum road had been
subject to heavy rains that caused extensive damage. Therefore, Istanbul had to find extra
money for the repairs of the road. In addition, there was need for trackwalkers who would
constantly check the road and immediately report damages. For this purpose, the Trabzon
province needed five chief trackwalkers (bekçi bası) and thirty regular trackwalkers
(bekçi) while the Erzurum province needed four chief trackwalkers and seventeen regular
trackwalkers. The monthly stipend of a chief trackwalker would be four liras and that of a
regular trackwalker would be two liras in Trabzon. The relevant stipends were almost 3
and 1.75 liras in Erzurum respectively. Moreover, huts were needed where the
trackwalkers would reside. The construction of the huts required 200 liras.33
32 PMOA, SD 1827/21, 12 Zilkade 1289 (11 January 1873); PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298
(21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881)
33 PMOA, I.DH 665/46304, 18 Safer 1290 (17 April 1873); PMOA, SD.TNZ 1504/36, 10 Rebiyülevvel
1290 (8 May 1873); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 456/8, 8 Rebiyülahır 1290 (5 June 1873)
248
Overall, there was a need for 620 liras in total to maintain the road. Initially, the
government hoped to pay for this expenditure with the municipal incomes of Trabzon and
Gümüshane –just like Erzurum province had recently paid for the repair of the road in its
borders without asking the central treasury for extra money. The revenue of Gümüshane
municipality, however, approximated only 50-60 liras. Moreover, the Trabzon
municipality, whose earnings added up to 350 liras, could only use this money for the
beautification and sanitation of the city as well as the repair of the buildings that
belonged to the state (ebniye-i miriye). Therefore, even if these two municipalities
received the harbor dues (iskele resmi) of Kalafataltı Quay –which the Customs
Directorate (Rüsümat Müdürlügü) yearly auctioned for 200 liras and from which the taxfarmer
collected a customs tax worth of 400 liras-, their funds would not be sufficient
enough for the repair of the road and the trackwalkers’ expenses. Alternatively, the
municipalities could use the scales tax (kantar rüsumu) of Trabzon (400 liras). As a last
remedy, the Ministry could deduct money from the next year’s road budget –which was
50,000 liras in total- in order to pay the trackwalkers’ stipends.34
In the midst of this debate, an additional suggestion was raised, which was to
designate Ohannes’ Ottoman Company as the only responsible partner for the repair of
the road. In this case, the company would have to pay for the trackwalkers’ stipends as
well. In the end, the Istanbul government decided not to appoint any trackwalkers to the
region and the engineer of Trabzon postponed the construction of the huts until the next
spring. According to the engineer, if the huts remained unoccupied, then they would
34 PMOA, SD 1827/49, 1 Muharrem 1290 (1 March 1873); PMOA, I.DH 665/46304, 18 Safer 1290 (17
April 1873); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 452/94, 25 Safer 1290 (24 April 1873); PMOA, SD.TNZ 1504/36, 10
Rebiyülevvel 1290 (8 May 1873); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 456/8, 8 Rebiyülahır 1290 (5 June 1873);
249
deteriorate and eventually collapse due to the water that would leak to their foundations
during the winter.35
At this point in the negotiation, the central government accidentally sent the
correspondence about the Ottoman Company to Erzurum instead of Trabzon. The
governor of Erzurum was offended by Istanbul’s neglect. Ohannes could be a resident of
Trabzon but the coach company that he offered to establish was going to operate between
Trabzon and Erzurum. Thus, the dwellers of both provinces would benefit from this
company and use it to go from one place to another. Moreover, the headquarters of the
Fourth Army were located in Erzurum and the company claimed to carry military
equipment during both peace and war times. Under these circumstances, the governor of
Erzurum believed that he should have been involved in the negotiations between
Ohannes, the Trabzon province, and Istanbul right from the very beginning. In his
opinion, the governor of Erzurum must have the right to express his opinion about the
foundation of the Ottoman Company.36
According to the governor, this company could pave the way for foreigners to spy
on the Ottoman Empire’s public affairs (ecnebilerin sirket-i hafiye ile müdahalesini).
This could be very dangerous especially concerning the conveyance of weapons and the
military equipment during wartime. In the end, Istanbul did not allow Ohannes to
establish the Ottoman Company –most likely because of fear of espionage- and decided
35 Ibid.
36 PMOA, I.DH 665/46304, 18 Safer 1290 (17 April 1873); PMOA, SD.TNZ 1504/36, 10 Rebiyülevvel
1290 (8 May 1873); PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 456/8, 8 Rebiyülahır 1290 (5 June 1873)
250
to pay for the stipends of the trackwalkers and the cost of their huts from the 50,000 liras
assigned for the roads and bridges in the public works budget.37
While the Porte considered Ohannes’ terms, Hochstrasser, a Swiss merchant
living in Trabzon, also offered to establish a coach company with a concession effective
for twenty-five years. The Ottoman government, however, rejected the offer because the
amount that Hochstrasser promised for the yearly maintenance of the road was not
enough.38 Six years later in 1879, some central authorities still remembered Ohannes’
offer to establish a coach company between Trabzon and Erzurum. In their estimation,
there were many advantages to this project. First, the journey between the two cities
would have been reduced by five to six days and the transportation costs would have
decreased by fifteen percent. Second, the company would have assumed the repair of the
road and submitted two thousand liras annually to the state for this purpose. Third, the
company would have guarded against smuggling and thus increased the export income of
the Ottoman Empire.39
These debates on stage coaches relate to the argument about the fragmented
nature of modern states as they constitute another instance in which the perpetual conflict
and competition between the provincial governments of Trabzon and Erzurum surfaced
once again. In other words, Ohannes’ coach company provides a good example to prove
that disputes between different provincial offices were endemic to the nature of modern
37 Ibid.
38 “Report by Vice-Consul Biliotti on the Trade of Trebizond for the Year 1873” in Reports from Her
Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of Their Consular Districts, Part IV, London:
Harrison and Sons, August 1874, p. 1636
39 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
251
states and not isolated cases driven by personal disagreements between different officials.
The governor of Erzurum complained about his absence in the talks on Ohannes’
Ottoman Company and emphasized the military importance of his province as the center
of the Fourth Army. Even though it is not clear whether the opinion of the Governor of
Erzurum played any role in Istanbul’s rejection of Ohannes’ offer, it remains obvious that
the governor objected to the foundation of a coach company by a Trabzon resident.
Three years before Ohannes made this offer, Consul Palgrave had recorded the
following remarks:
The [Ottoman] Administration will add to the burden [caused by the cost of
the road] by unwise and excessive tolls and monopolies, for the jobbing of
which bankrupt Laventines and intriguing “native Christians” are even now
anxiously on the look out. The genuine long-sighted liberality of mind that
can discern ultimate profit in present sacrifice is very rare in this Empire
and those who govern it.40
Contrary to the Consul’s assertions, not all officials were willing to collect a toll
from travelers and therefore, Ohannes’ offer caused tension between Trabzon and
Erzurum provincial governments. On the one hand, Trabzon favored Ohannes because
the operation of a coach company would contribute to the economic growth of this
province. On the other hand, Erzurum’s governor was concerned about the importance of
his province from a militaristic point of view. The governor was afraid that the turnover
of transportation to a company would jeopardize the conveyance of weapons during
wartime. Most likely, his opposition influenced and shaped Istanbul’s point of view
which stubbornly rejected the foundation of a coach company.
40 “Report by Mr. Consul Palgrave, on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1869” in
Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls, in 1869-70, London:
Harrison and Sons, July 1870, pp. 562-563
252
Thus, the example of Ohannes and the Ottoman Company illuminates the local
background(s) in which modern states functioned and how opposing provincial interests
imposed tensions on central policies. Therefore, incorporating different localisms into the
historical narrative of modern states may be useful in highlighting their disunited
character. Moreover, localism should not be thought of only in the context or at the level
of provincial boundaries where one province clashed or disagreed with another. As will
be discussed in the next section, there were many different agendas and many conflicting
interests even within a single province.
Localism within Localism: The Peculiar Case of Rize
One of the major goals of this chapter is to fine-tune our understanding of
modern-states and highlight their fragmented, local, and social nature. In other words, the
goal is to turn history upside down in order to display the local roots of modern states and
their birth from a local perspective –rather than seeing them as omnipresent entities
which expanded their central power over different localities. The underlying assumption
is that the local dynamics shaped the imperial landscape rather than the imperial changing
the local. Of course, such an understanding begs the question of how “local” one can go.
Even though the previous cases discussed above focused mainly on the provincial level,
provinces themselves were not unified entities. The following case from 1865 clearly
shows that there were many different and opposing agendas on the table of a variety of
provincial actors.
In 1865, both the notables and the commoners of Rize opposed the construction of
the Trabzon-Erzurum road. The commoners were protesting both the forced labor system
253
and the collection of the road tax. They wanted to neither work nor pay for the
construction of a road which was too far away from their homes. Moreover, the Trabzon-
Erzurum road risked the economic prominance of Rize in favor of a competitor port city,
namely Trabzon. Most probably, this point reflects more the concerns of the local
notables who supported the commoners in their opposition to the construction of the
Trabzon-Erzurum road. In this context, the commoners gathered on July 23th 1865 in
front of the district office. As a symbolic gesture of their protest, they left in front of the
building the blank, unsigned, and unsealed registers in which they were supposed to write
the names of the forced laborers.41
The governor of Erzurum thought that Hacı Ismail Effendi and Recep Effendi –
two members of the district assembly in Rize- and merchant Hacı Hamit agitated the
people. After the protest, Hacı Ismail Effendi and Recep Effendi escaped to Istanbul
where the Ministry of Police started searching them. The government also sent two
officials to each village in Rize. These officials were supposed to convince the people to
register as forced labor; but their efforts did not yield any productive results. In contrast,
the dwellers of the village of Karadere attacked the officials. Locals also considered
organizing another protest in Rize on July 28th. The military forces in Rize were not
sufficient to suppress the demonstrators. Therefore, Trabzon sent a squadron of soldiers
to Rize. In the meantime, the central government called back the officials who were sent
to villages because their lives were in danger.42
41 PMOA, MVL 1051/2, 22 Rebiyülâhır 1282 (14 September 1865)
42 Ibid.
254
We do not know whether the second demonstration took place or whether Istanbul
punished any demonstrators; but there was still resentment over the abuses in the region
two years later in 1867. Resit Effendi, the representative of the residents in Rize (Rize
kazası ahalisi vekili), wrote a petition to the provincial government of Trabzon and
demanded exemption from forced labor in the construction of the Erzurum road.43 Rize’s
opposition to the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road (even though it was within
the borders of the former province of which Rize was a part) marks a good example of
how we should not think of provinces as unified entities and how refined an
understanding of “localism” we should develop. As Meeker observes, there was constant
competition between Trabzon and other coastal cities (like Rize and Sürmene) on the
Black Sea coast in order to become the harbor of eastern Anatolia.44 British consular
reports also attest to this fact. In 1870, Consul Palgrave wrote: “although the country
districts around are on the whole declining, the particular town and port of Trebizond are
gaining in relative importance.”45
Apparently, there were many opposing interests and rivalries even within a single
province. This, however, did not mean that different residential areas wanted to stay
isolated from one another. People living in different regions did not want to be
disconnected. On the contrary, they suggested different “ways” of establishing
connections and networks which would benefit them the most. In this context, studying
43 PMOA, MVL 545/6, 25 Cemaziyülevvel 1284 (24 September 1867)
44 Meeker, 200.
45 “Report by Mr. Consul Palgrave, on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1869” in
Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls, in 1869-70, London:
Harrison and Sons, July 1870, p. 561
255
the history of a road becomes especially important: it shows that making localism an
indispensable part of how modern states functioned does not necessarily imply
“trivializing” history-writing. On the contrary, highlighting the local roots of modern
states should demonstrate that a certain district or village was not in isolation from other
places. In this context, the history of the Trabzon-Bayezid road suggests that we can
make sense of local politics only in a regional (but not necessarily provincial) context.
This becomes clearer in the discussions concerning which alternative roads should be
renovated in the region. Not surprisingly, the Rize-Erzurum road was at the top of the list.
We now turn to this discussion.
Alternative Routes:
In 1874, Monsieur Riva, the chief engineer of Trabzon, wrote a report supporting
the construction of the Rize-Erzurum road as an alternative to the Trabzon-Erzurum
route. By 1874, Russians had already constructed the railroad line connecting Poti to
Tbilisi which was now in operation. Moreover, Russia intended to extend the line with
two additional tracks from Tbilisi to the Caspian Sea and the Iranian Border, respectively.
The Russians looked to renovate the harbor at Poti as well. Under these circumstances,
Monsieur Riva expected the Iranian transit trade to shift to Caucasia and proposed the
construction of Rize road as an alternative route in order to compete with Russia. In order
not to undermine the importance of the harbor in Trabzon, Monsieur Riva also advocated
the construction of another road that ranged from Gümüshane to Diyarbakir. This road
was to pass through Erzincan and Harput and extend with two additional paths to Malatya
256
and Egin.46 Thus, Trabzon would cease to be the harbor of eastern Anatolia –especially of
Erzurum and Van- and would gain a new function as the harbor of the Southeast via
Trabzon-Diyarbakir road.
In a sense, Monsieur Riva proposed a complete remapping of regional economies.
Diyarbakir was geographically tied to Samsun on the Black Sea coast with a road that
passed through Harput, Sivas, Tokat, Zile, and Amasya. The direction of this track was
determined, as many other “natural veins” in Anatolia, by the course of the mountain
ranges and valleys.47 In this context, the Diyarbakir-Samsun road was one of the three
main arteries that linked Istanbul to different parts of Asia Minor and thus crossed
Anatolia from the East to the West (one of the other two routes starting at Aleppo in the
south and the other at Kars in the north). Beyond Diyarbakir, the Samsun road extended
as far as Mosul and Bagdad.48
Instead of keeping the natural ties between Samsun and Diyarbakir, Monsieur
Riva offered to create a shortcut between Trabzon and Diyarbakir via Gümüshane,
Erzincan, and Harput. The engineer’s suggestion seems logical, since Trabzon is directly
located in the north of Diyarbakir whereas Samsun is far away in the northwest of the
city. In other words, as the crow flies, Diyarbakir is much closer to Trabzon compared to
Samsun. The area between Harput and Erzincan, however, is too mountainous compared
46 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19 Rebiyülâhır
1298 (21 March 1881)
47 “Report on the Provinces of Trebizond, Sivas, Kastemouni, and Part of Angora, by Mr. Consul W.
Gifford Palgrave” in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls
During the Year 1868, August to December, London, February 1869, p. 388
48 Miroglu, 241; Franz Taeschner, "Die Entwicklung des Wegenetzes und des Verkehres im Turkischen
Anatolien," 188; ———, Das Anatolische Wegenetz nach Osmanischen Quellen (Leipzig: Mayer & Müller
G. m. b. H., 1926), 54.
257
to the longer but safer route that linked Harput to Samsun.49 Therefore, when the
Ottoman Empire collapsed in the early twentieth century, the long-established natural ties
between Diyarbakir and Samsun still survived in the presence of a shorter but impassable
route that ranged from Diyarbakir to Trabzon.50 Samsun also served as the primary Black
Sea port of both departing and returning emigrants from Harput to the Americas and vice
versa during the second half of the nineteenth century.51
Even though the construction of the Trabzon-Diyarbakir road was rejected by
central authorities, Monsieur Riva continued to advocate the construction of the Rize-
49 The area between Erzincan and Harput (modern-day Elazıg) –known as Dersim- remained a very isolated
region even in the early Republican era until the late 1930s. This isolation changed when the new regime
decided to put an end to the autonomy of local power holders in 1937. The result was the death of 13,160
civilians and the forced resettlement or exile of some other 11,818 people according to official sources
(http://www.radikal.com.tr/Radikal.aspx?aType=RadikalDetayV3&ArticleID=965187&Date=19.11.2009&
CategoryID=77 – last accessed 05/07/2012). Unofficial sources declare the death rate as high as 40,000.
David McDowall, A Modern History of the Kurds (London & New York: I. B. Tauris, 2002), 209.
Recently, journalist Nuray Mert addressed how the Turkish Republic tried to build roads in Dersim before
the military operation in order to make the region more accessible to the troops. Mert said “Politics of force
and violence goes along with public works policies” (zor, siddet ve imar politkasının birlikte gittigini),
implicitly referring also to the many roads that the current Turkish government is building in Southeastern
Anatolia where the majority of the population is Kurdish (http://www.bianet.org/bianet/siyaset/130499-sirtsivazlama-
veya-sirin-gorunme-derdim-hic-olmadi – last accessed 05/07/2012). This analysis gave rise to a
polemic between Mert and Turkey’s Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan. This is a good reminder that
road politics are still part of power politics where a multiplicity of actors, and not simply state officials, are
involved. As an example of how the Turkish government sees road-building projects not only as
infrastructural but also political and cultural investments, one can look at the government’s intentions in
constructing a new highway between Rize and Mardin. As one politician expressed, this new highway will
“unite the North and the South” (Kuzey Güney Bulusması). The governor of Diyarbakir, another city
populated by a Kurdish majority like Mardin, defined the construction of Rize-Mardin road as a “peace
project” (barıs projesi) which will integrate two different cultures (kültürlerin birbirleriyle kaynasması).
The governor continued that the increase in traffic between the Black Sea region and the Sotheast will also
contribute to the elimination of prejudices (http://www.ntvmsnbc.com/id/25342305 – last accessed
05/07/2012).
50 See the maps PMOA, HRT.h 372; HRT.h 405; HRT.h 406; HRT.h 407; HRT.h 936; HRT.h 1305;
HRT.h 1489; HRT.h 1603; HRT.h 1709; HRT.h 1718; HRT.h 1827; HRT.h 2017.
51 See David Gutman, Sojourners, Smugglers, and the State: Migration Flows and the Armenian Peril in
the Ottoman Empire, 1888-1914 (Tentative Title) (Dissertation in Progress, State University of New York
at Binghamton). Clay also confirms that the most accessible port from Diyarbakir was Samsun. Christopher
Clay, "Labor Migration and Economic Conditions in Nineteenth-Century Anatolia," in Turkey before and
after Ataturk: Internal and External Affairs, ed. Sylvia Kedourie (London & Portland: Frank Cass, 1999),
7.
258
Erzurum road based on the export numbers of Erzurum which reached 14,113 tons
(eleven million vakıyye52 or 31,113,839 pounds) of wheat in 1873. Previously, the export
of wheat from the same region amounted to only 2,566 tons (two million vakıyye or
5,657,061 pounds). Such a gap was thanks to an increase in the cost of transportation in
Europe. Accordingly, the price of transporting 116 kilograms (91 vakıyye – 255 pounds)
of wheat had risen by 7-8 Francs in Europe in 1873. Monsieur Riva did not specify the
reason for this increase; but the numbers were enough for him to prove that a huge
increase in Erzurum’s exports was possible if transportation costs decreased by 7-8
Francs in the Ottoman Empire for every 116 kilograms of goods.53 In other words, if
transportation costs were decreased, the Europeans could start exporting wheat from
Erzurum. Under these circumstances, a shorter road which connected Erzurum to Rize –
instead of Trabzon- could be an efficient means of decreasing transportation prices.
Three years later in 1877, Monsieur Riva wrote a second report and refrained
from the idea of constructing a road between Erzurum and Rize because the recent
Russo-Ottoman War had clearly revealed Russian intentions on the Lazistan sub-province
of which Rize was a part. A road this close to the Russian border could prove to be a
burden and a military threat rather than serving as a facilitator of economic growth.54
52 Vakıyye was an Ottoman measure of weight used interchangeably with okka (1283 grams). Parlatır,
Osmanlı Türkçesi Sözlügü.
53 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19 Rebiyülâhır
1298 (21 March 1881)
54 Seeing roads as a military threat rather than as a military tool was not unique to the Ottomans. For
example, Spanish generals opposed the construction of certain roads in Central America because they
would enhance the mobilization of British armies and provide them with easy access to important economic
and political centers such as Mexico City and silver mines. Bruce A. Castleman, Building the King's
Highway: Labor, Society, and Family on Mexico's Camios Reales, 1757-1804 (Tucson: The University of
Arizona Press, 2005), 12-14.
259
Therefore, from a miliartistic point of view, geographical isolation could prove
advantageous.
Based on this opinion, Monsieur Riva objected to the existence of a road near
Rize which would allow the advance of the Russian army into the Ottoman interior.
Instead, he proposed the construction of a tramcar line between Trabzon, Sürmene, and
Bayburt. Monsieur Riva observed in British consular reports an increase in the Iranian
transit trade which passed through the Ottoman Empire between 1866 and 1873. These
years coincided with the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road. In contrast, after
1876, there was a large increase in the Russian transit trade income thanks to the
completion of the railroad line between Poti and Tbilisi. This fact proved that the
Trabzon-Erzurum road was useless in competing with Russia and that its repair was futile
and would cause the waste of a lot of money.55
Monsieur Riva was not the only actor to advocate the construction of alternative
routes from the interior regions of Eastern Anatolia to the Black Sea coast. The need to
constantly repair the Trabzon-Erzurum road annoyed other authorities as well who
wanted to build a new road between Bayburt and Sürmene, thus completely abandoning
the current route which passed through Gümüshane. Sürmene was only twenty-five
kilometers (sixteen miles) away from Trabzon to the east and Karadere Valley that
connected this town to Bayburt provided a much shorter and easier way to the sea line.
Moreover, Sürmene Bay was a more convenient harbor compared to Trabzon. Last but
not least, the Ottoman state had already carried military equipment through the Karadere
55 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19 Rebiyülâhır
1298 (21 March 1881)
260
Valley during the recent Russo-Ottoman War of 1877-1878, thus proving this route’s
suitability for traffic.56
The current road between Trabzon and Bayburt that passed through Gümüshane
was 202 kilometers (126 miles) long whereas the one between Sürmene and Bayburt was
only 122 kilometers (76 miles), thus eighty kilometers (fifty miles) shorter than the
currently used route. Furthermore, Karadere Valley was not very steep and therefore had
a suitable topography for a railroad line connection. The repair of the Trabzon-Erzurum
road demanded 900 liras whereas the cost of building a new road between Sürmene and
Bayburt was 2,400 liras in total. Even though there was a huge discrepancy between the
two amounts, some officials preferred making long-term plans and prioritized
commercial profits over short-term financial interests. According to officials, the Iranian
and Indian trade networks were still very crucial for the Ottoman Empire, especially at a
time when Russia was about to finish the Baku railroad line in the next five years.57
Therefore, the Ottoman Empire should make financial sacrifices, such as spending 2,400
liras for the construction of the Sürmene-Bayburt road, in order to facilitate the empire’s
commercial power.
In 1880, Monsieur Riva wrote a third report and once again reviewed the pros and
cons of all three alternative routes which connected Erzurum to the Black Sea coast (in
other words, the currently used Trabzon road, the Rize road, and Sürmene road). Trabzon
was the harbor of not only Erzurum but also of Siran, Erzincan, Mus, and Van which
exported and imported commodities through this port city. If the price of transportation
56 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
57 Ibid.
261
between Trabzon and Erzurum decreased twenty-eight percent, then the agricultural
production of these areas would increase by three times.58
According to Monsieur Riva, travelling from Rize to Erzurum took thirty-eight
hours (five kilometers or three miles per hour), thus twenty-six hours shorter than the
current Trabzon road. Such efficiency could decrease transportation costs by forty
percent. The topography of the region, however, was as difficult to pass as the Trabzon-
Erzurum road because of the steep Cemil Mountain located between Rize and Erzurum.59
Thanks to this mountain, this track was actually open only in the summer and autumn.
Otherwise, the road was blocked by snow in the winter and spring.60 In addition, Rize
road’s construction required 28,500 liras (26,600 liras of this amount was needed to pay
the road worker’s daily wages).61
Travelling between Sürmene, Bayburt, and Erzurum took forty-five hours
(twenty-five hours to be spent on the currently used Erzurum-Bayburt road and twenty
hours on the proposed Bayburt-Sürmene section). Due to its shortness, the cost of
transportation on this road would decrease by thirty percent. If, however, authorities
failed to fix the Trabzon-Sürmene road which took 7-8 hours to travel, then the
merchants of Trabzon would migrate to Sürmene. This would endanger the real estate
market in Trabzon which was five million liras worth thanks to the commercial
58 Ibid.
59 Ibid.
60 “Report on the Provinces of Trebizond, Sivas, Kastemouni, and Part of Angora, by Mr. Consul W.
Gifford Palgrave” in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls
During the Year 1868, August to December, London, February 1869, p. 357
61 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19 Rebiyülâhır
1298 (21 March 1881)
262
importance of the city. Accordingly, Trabzon ranked as the third biggest Ottoman port
city after Istanbul and Izmir. Therefore, the migration of the mercantile classes from
Trabzon to Sürmene would lead to disastrous consequences both for the city in particular
and for the Ottoman economy in general. Moreover, the harbor in Sürmene was big
enough only for vessels but not for commercial ships. Last but not least, the winds were
as strong in Sürmene as in Trabzon. Therefore, the harbor in Sürmene did not provide
any real advantages to the merchants compared to the port in Trabzon.62
Therefore, in order not to undermine the commercial significance of Trabzon,
authorities would have to extend the road from Sürmene to Trabzon along the Black Sea
coast. This extra mileage, however, would decrease the transportation costs only by
nineteen percent which was under the desired level of twenty-eight required to compete
with Russia. Therefore, Monsieur Riva once more proposed the construction of a tramcar
line between Trabzon, Sürmene, Bayburt, and Erzurum. This would cost at least 300,000
liras.63
In order to avoid this expense, the Ottoman state could award the construction of
the road to a coach company. No company would, however, allow the slope of the road to
exceed six percent because otherwise the road would be too steep for coaches to pass.
Eliminating steep slopes would decrease the cost of transport by forty percent.
Accordingly, the current slopes between Cevizlik and Ardasa –which were nine percent-
62 Ibid.
63 Ibid.
263
were the main reason why transportation was so expensive on the Trabzon-Erzurum road.
Moreover, Zigana Pass was almost impossible to pass for the coaches during the winter.64
Monsieur Riva’s new report challenged the ideas that he had advanced in his
earlier report of 1874. In 1880, Monsieur Riva was talking about the drawbacks of the
Rize route and concluded his report by promoting the Trabzon-Sürmene-Bayburt-
Erzurum road as the best alternative route among others. This route would allow the state
to refrain from building a new road between Trabzon and Diyarbakir in order to prevent
the decline of Trabzon’s commercial importance. In 1872, Monsieur Riva had surveyed
the road between Sürmene and Trabzon and estimated the cost of the construction to be
20,250 liras (17,500 liras of this amount was required for the road worker’s daily wages).
In addition, Monsieur Riva was also in favor of extending the road from Erzurum to the
Iranian border at Bayezid and reforming the harbor in Trabzon. Even though these two
projects were too expensive, the long-term profits they would generate would exceed a
yearly income of 300,000 liras.65
To summarize Monsieur Riva’s 1880 report: Even though Rize-Ispir-Erzurum
road was half in the length compared to the current Trabzon route, its proximity to the
Russian border posed a major military threat. Moreover, the area between Rize and
Erzurum was at least as mountainous as the one between Trabzon and Erzurum. Last but
not least, the bay of Rize was not convenient for the construction of a dock. The region
between Trabzon, Sürmene, Bayburt, and Erzurum, however, was not only flatter
(because it bypassed the mountainous Gümüshane region); but it also did not endanger
64 Ibid.
65 Ibid.
264
the significance of the harbor in Trabzon. This route which passed through Sürmene was
seventy kilometers (forty-three miles) longer than Rize road; but Sürmene Bay was more
appropriate for ships to take refuge during storms compared to Rize.66
Meanwhile, some “prominent” people (erbab-ı malumattan bazı zevat) rejected
Monsieur Riva’s assertion that Rize road was at least as difficult to build and pass as
Trabzon road. Moreover, Rize Bay could easily turn into a port like Batumi with very
little expenditure.67 We do not know who exactly these erbab-ı malumat were. Most
likely, they were the local notables of Lazistan who hoped to profit from turning the
small town of Rize into a large port city –at the expense of Trabzon- if Rize was
connected by road to Erzurum. At this point, we should remember the protest of Rize
residents back in 1865 when they demonstrated against the construction of the Trabzon-
Erzurum road because it jeopardized the development of their town for the sake of
another, namely Trabzon. The reaction of the erbab-ı malumat to Monsieur Riva’s report
in 1880 clearly shows that this protest of 1865 was not an isolated incident. The
disagreement of the erbab-ı malumat with Monsieur Riva constitutes only another
example of the fragmentation of local-provincial politics.
At the same time, the Ministry of Public Works was concerned about Russian
attempts to build a quay at Batumi and to construct roads that connected the town to the
Iranian border. Even the annulment of the Ottoman transit duties in 1873 had not reattracted
the Iranian merchants back to the Trabzon-Erzurum road because Poti road was
in much better shape. Therefore, the Ministry of Public Works asked the Public Works
66 Ibid.
67 Ibid.
265
Commission (Nafıa Komisyonu) to make a decision about the three alternative routes as
soon as possible. In other words, they should build a new road either between Erzurum,
Ispir, and Rize or between Erzurum, Bayburt and Sürmene or repair the current Trabzon-
Erzurum road which passed through Gümüshane.68
The financial situation of the empire allowed the construction of a new road
between Rize and Erzurum and the construction of a harbor in Rize with an expenditure
of approximately 4,000-5,000 liras. According to the Ministry of Commerce and
Agriculture however, only the repair of Trabzon-Erzurum road could make it possible to
compete with Russia. Sürmene road required the construction of an additional 160
kilometers (a hundred miles) anew. Furthermore, Karadere River constantly filled the bay
at Sürmene with sand, thus making it difficult to build a dock there. Last but not least,
Trabzon was the biggest Ottoman city on the Black Sea coast and was geographically tied
to Siran and Kelkit Plains (in addition to Bayburt Plain through which the current
Erzurum road passed). Even though the dock in Trabzon was in poor condition, the
nearby Polathane Bay (modern-day Akçaabat) provided ships with a natural harbor in
which they could take refuge during storms.69
According to the Public Works Commission, the only problem that Trabzon road
posed to the travelers was its steepness. Engineers had made the mistake of building the
road on the steepest parts between Trabzon and Bayburt back in the 1860s (in other
words, the Gümüshane region). Now, in 1880, if authorities wanted to reduce
transportation costs in order to compete with Russia for the Iranian transit trade, they had
68 Ibid.
69 Ibid.
266
to slightly change the current route and fix the decayed sections. Work was needed on
only 60 kilometers (37 miles) of the road whereas the suggested Sürmene road was 160
kilometers (100 miles) long in total. In the conclusion of the report, the Public Works
Commission hoped that the Trabzon road would easily turn into an efficient competitor to
Russian roads while Russia still needed time to finish the construction of the Caucasian
railroad line. Even though two members of the Commission concluded that the cost of
repairing the Bayburt-Cevizlik section of the road was not worth the effort because of its
frequent deterioration, the rest of the commission thought that the collection of a toll
could be used to create a permanent budget for the repair of the Trabzon-Erzurum road.
Furthermore, the rent collected from the khans along the road could also contribute to the
road’s budget.70
At this point, the provincial government of Trabzon declared that the cost of
repairing the road would be 1,810 liras if local people served as forced labor. Otherwise,
this amount would increase to 4,810 liras. Previously, Istanbul had given the Trabzon and
Erzurum provincial governments 700 liras for the repair of the road. For the last 6-7
years, however, Istanbul had failed to repair the road, especially during the Russo-
Ottoman War of 1877-1878. Therefore, the governor of Erzurum demanded the
appointment of an engineer so that he could survey the road during the winter of 1880
and start the repair in spring 1881.71
In the end, Istanbul concluded that the other two alternative routes (Erzurum-Rize
and Erzurum-Sürmene roads) were militarily too dangerous because of their proximity to
70 Ibid.
71 Ibid.
267
the Russian border. In addition, the collection of a toll (as suggested by the Public Works
Commission) and the application of forced labor system (as suggested by the provincial
government of Trabzon) were inclined to corruption and abuse of power. Therefore, the
government ordered the allotment of 4,810 liras to the public works budget for the repair
of the Trabzon-Erzurum road.72
In the early twentieth century, the idea of building an alternative road between
Erzurum and Rize came onto the scene once more. Ottomans living in the Lazistan subprovince
were emigrating to Russia in order to find food and work. At the same time,
grain moldered in the storehouses on Erzurum Plain which was just a few miles away in
the south of the Ispir Mountains which separated Lazistan from Erzurum. In this context,
a road which connected Rize with Erzurum would not only feed the residents of Lazistan;
but Erzurum could also find an easy access to the timber supplies of this neighboring subprovince
of Trabzon. Therefore, Ottomans should immediately stop insisting on repairing
the dangerous Trabzon-Erzurum road. Instead, the Rize-Erzurum route was both shorter
(100 kilometers or 62 miles shorter than the current Trabzon-Erzurum road) and more
suitable for automobile traffic. This would trigger individual entrepreneurship
(tesebbüsat-ı sahsiye) which, according to the governor of Erzurum Mehmet Emin, was a
necessary component for industrialization and economic self-sufficiency.73
The Rize-Erzurum road presented many other advantages. First of all, a rise in
Erzurum’s agricultural production would increase the purchasing power of its residents
and hence their demand for commercial goods. Thus, a general improvement in trade and
72 Ibid.
73 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
268
an increase in consumption would follow. Second, the Rize road could be an alternative
to the Batumi road in Transcaucasia which was preferred by the Iranian transit trade
merchants because it was less dangerous to take during the winter compared to the
Trabzon road. Third, omnibuses could operate on Rize road and thus turn it into a busy
and hence safer route. Fourth, Rize road could also increase the traffic on Erzurum-Kıgı-
Harput route.74
Fifth, the Rize road would expand the Ottoman working class in number. At that
time, the majority of Erzurum’s population consisted of either tribal members or workers
who emigrated to other countries, especially Russia, in order to find jobs. Rize road,
however, would open empty lands to cultivation. This would result in the settlement of
tribes and the return of emigrant workers. Thanks to the Erzurum-Rize road, the Ottoman
government could also operate mines on Hınıs Mountain which would employ many
people, including the residents of Lazistan sub-province who were currently working in
Russian mines. Last but not least, the Erzurum-Rize road would turn Rize from a small
town into an important port city which would serve as the harbor of Erzurum, Van, Bitlis,
and Harput provinces. In conclusion, Rize road would contribute tremendously both to
the local economy of Lazistan and to the general welfare of the Ottoman Empire.75
Governor Mehmet Emin sent a separate letter to the Ministry of Interior in which
he justified his preference for the construction and repair of the Erzurum-Rize (instead of
the Trabzon route) and Erzurum-Bayezid roads from a militaristic point of view. In the
letter, Mehmet Emin quoted the Commander of the Eleventh Corps in Van (On Birinci
74 Ibid.
75 Ibid.
269
Van Kolordusu) and the Commissioner of the Borders (Hudut Komiseri) with whom he
recently had exchanged ideas. According to the Commander and the Commissioner,
Erzurum and Eleskirt military zones (mıntıka) were based on two different river basins:
Fırat and Murat Rivers respectively. The Köse and Kızıllar Mountain Ranges separated
these two basins from one another and between the mountain ranges was Delibaba Pass
through which the Trabzon-Bayezid road passed. In other words, the Trabzon-Bayezid
road played a very crucial role in connecting two military zones: one in Erzurum and the
other one in Eleskirt.76
To the opponents of Erzurum-Rize road who thought that the road was too close
to the Russian border and hence posed a military threat, Governor Mehmet Emin replied
that Erzurum-Rize road would only have a military disadvantage if it cut the connection
of Erzincan with the outside and isolated the city. Currently, however, Trabzon-Erzurum
road already had a connection with Erzincan thanks to the by-way which diverted from
Gümüshane to this town. Therefore, Rize road was no more dangerous compared to any
other route that connected Erzurum and Erzincan to the Black Sea coast, including
Trabzon route.77
Those who opposed the construction of Rize road also argued that this
alternative route provided the Russians with easy access to the Ninth Corps in Erzurum
(Dokuzuncu Erzurum Kolordusu). In contrast, according to Governor Mehmet Emin,
there were already many other ways through which Russian armies could reach
Erzurum. The current Trabzon road was one of them. The Russian navy could easily
76 Ibid.
77 Ibid.
270
transfer soldiers to Trabzon and, after the invasion of the city, Russians could advance to
Erzurum. Additionally, an enemy army could also use the Çoruh Valley to reach Artvin
and then Bayburt and thus cut the connection between Erzurum and Istanbul.78
Therefore, unless the Ottoman Empire had a strong navy in the Black Sea, it
could not prevent Russia from using either the Rize, Trabzon, or Giresun roads in order
to advance from the sea line to different parts of the Anatolian Peninsula. Russia could
disembark its military forces even in Samsun and go as far as Iskenderun via the Samsun
road. In conclusion, according to the governor of Erzurum, the Ottoman state should
either cut all of these ties between the Black Sea coast and the interior regions or not
refrain from the idea of building a road between Rize and Erzurum.79
In conclusion, Russia posed a major threat to the Ottoman Northeast during the
nineteenth century not only in terms of its military power, but also economically. In this
context, Rize was central to many discussions where the Rize-Erzurum road was
regarded as the main alternative route to the Trabzon road. The town of Rize in
particular and the Lazistan sub-province in general were mostly isolated from the rest of
the Ottoman Northeast throughout most of the nineteenth century. This isolation
prevented the residents of this sub-province from benefiting from the natural resources
of Eastern Anatolia, including its fertile lands and rich mines. Instead, Lazistan was
more connected to Russia where most of its people were emigrating in order to find jobs.
In turn, with the migrant workers’ remittances, the families of Lazistan were buying food
supplies from Russia. Thus, Russia was benefitting from the isolation of Rize from the
78 Ibid.
79 Ibid.
271
rest of the Ottoman Empire. Hence, making this region an integral part of the broader
imperial geography via a road which connected Rize to Erzurum was on the agenda of
many Ottoman officials.
Russia was attracting to its domains not only Ottoman migrants but also many
Iranian transit trade merchants who used to pass through the Ottoman territories. Starting
from the mid-1850s onwards, the Russian state tried to shift the Iranian transit trade to
its own territories thanks to the improvement of transportation facilities in Caucasia.
This Russian attempt to compete with the Ottomans for the transit trade was not only a
concern for the Ottoman Empire but also for its allies, especially Britain and French who
feared the increase of Russian influence in Iran. In this context, the Trabzon-Erzurum
road was regarded as a very important means of restricting Russian advancements into
the south which would ultimately cut the connection between Europe and British India.
We now turn to this transnational significance of the Trabzon-Erzurum road for world
trade and politics and examine how different imperial actors ranging from European
consuls to Iranian merchants had a stake in the road’s history.
Trabzon-Bayezid Road in Transnational Context:
As discussed so far, the Trabzon-Bayezid road was a significant route for
domestic trade within the Ottoman Empire, especially for the interior provinces of the
Anatolian peninsula. The maintenance and the safety of the road were therefore crucial
for the implementation of free trade within the Ottoman territories (ticaret-i dahiliyenin
saye-i sevket vaye-i hazret padisahide kemal-i serbesti ve emniyetle cereyanı). Usually,
even though the interior provinces of Anatolia possessed productive lands for agriculture,
272
their residents had to face many difficulties while transporting their products to the
coastal regions and harbors. In this context, if the Trabzon-Bayezid road was in good
condition, then roads that connected to this main route would also generate more
income.80
The Trabzon-Bayezid road, however, was not only significant for the Ottomans,
but had a world historical importance as well. The road not only connected two Ottoman
provinces, but was also transnationally significant. Hence, it was of interest not only to
Ottomans and their neighbors like Iran and Russia, but also to various European powers
who also had a stake in the road’s commercial value. This transnational aspect of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road helps us think about it in a context of unequal power relations
between the Ottoman ruling elite, the “Great” Powers, and the local people –rather than
following only an institutional, statist, and uni-directional framework where the Porte
tried to consolidate its power in its eastern provinces via the construction of the Trabzon-
Bayezid road.
The nature of these unequal relations between the Ottomans and their
contemporaries was changing according to time and place, thus allowing all sides to take
advantage of the transforming circumstances. In other words, there were multiple claims
on the Trabzon-Bayezid road at different points in time. Most of the time, the Ottoman
state did not interpret the European demands to construct and maintain the Trabzon-
Bayezid road as an outrageous intervention into its internal affairs; on the contrary, the
Porte took these demands into consideration as long as they did not clash with its own
interests.
80 PMOA, I.MVL 512/23093, 12 Safer 1281 (17 July 1864)
273
For example, the Ottoman initiative to construct the road coincided with the
European demands for a well-maintained route in eastern Anatolia which would
constitute an alternative to the Caucasian roads maintained by Russia. In other words,
with regards to the maintainence of the Trabzon-Bayezid Road, Ottoman and European
interests peacefully coexisted with and actually reinforced each other. The British
especially were very much concerned about limiting the Russian advance via Iran into the
South in order to protect their interests in India. This competition between Britain and
Russia would eventually culminate in the partition of Iran into two spheres of influence in
1907. On the other hand, however, Ottoman authorities were very hesitant about
abolishing the customs duties on the Iranian transit trade, another demand frequently
mentioned by the Europeans.81
Along these lines, the Ottomans themselves were the first ones to acknowledge
the transnational importance of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. In 1847, Istanbul government
expected the customs revenue of the road to be 91,000 liras, a sum that they were under
risk of losing because the Russians considered building a road between Sukhumi (on the
Black Sea coast in northern Georgia today) and Erivan. The Russian competition could
also endanger the Ottoman transporters’ and innkeepers’ income which annually
81 This situation points out the peculiar place maintained by the Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth-century
world politics. The Ottomans were neither a colony which surrendered to every request of the “Great”
Powers nor an isolated state which existed independently from the outside world. The Ottoman Empire
followed a more flexible policy of negotiation between a variety of local and global actors during the
nineteenth century. This analysis enables us to contextualize Ottoman sovereignty in a nineteenth-century
“imperial” context rather than conceptualizing it within a nation-state framework where one can draw a
clear line between foreign policy and domestic politics. Sovereignty in the long nineteenth century was a
struggle and a power practice between global and local actors rather than only a claim for territorial
expansion and dominance. For further discussion on the “nineteenth century definition” of sovereignty see,
Nadir Özbek, "Osmanlı \mparatorlugu'nda \ç Güvenlik, Siyaset ve Devlet, 1876-1909," Türklük
Arastırmaları Dergisi, no. 16 (2004).
274
approximated 18,000 liras. Moreover, towns in the northeast such as Trabzon, Sürmene,
and Of could also start importing wheat and barley from Russia rather than Erzurum,
Erzincan, and Bayburt in the south when the Sukhumi-Erivan road was completed. This
would mean another loss of income worth roughly 45,000 liras for the region. In order to
retain these revenues, the Ottoman government should reconstruct the Trabzon-Bayezid
road immediately. Istanbul could finance the construction by charging a toll on the
travelers.82 Thus, even at this early stage, the Ottomans were afraid that the competition
of alternative roads in Transcaucasia would disrupt their regional networks and connect
northeastern towns such as Sürmene and Of in Lazistan to Russia more than to other
Ottoman cities in the West and in the South.
Among the European powers, the first one to raise concerns about the Trabzon-
Bayezid road was France, which felt threatened by Russia’s attempts to decrease the
customs duties in Caucasia. Moreover, the Russian roads that connected Iran to the Black
Sea coast were not only shorter than the Trabzon-Bayezid road but also in much better
condition, which allowed coaches to operate without any problems. In contrast, caravans
frequently had to deal with deep pit holes on the decayed Trabzon-Erzurum road which
injured many animals. Under these circumstances, it was not surprising that Iranian
merchants preferred the Russian roads to Ottoman ones.83
The shift of the Iranian transit trade to Russia would be devastating for the
Ottoman economy. First of all, the harbor in Trabzon would lose the income of European
exports to Iran –which was worth of 1,500,000 liras- and the income of Iranian exports to
82 PMOA, A.MKT 92/7, 19 Saban 1263 (2 August 1847)
83 PMOA, HR.TO 192/45, 7 June 1850
275
Europe –which was worth of 600,000 liras. Erzurum’s economy would also suffer if it
were no longer a trading hub. Last but not least, seven thousand people who lived in
smaller towns and villages along the road and who looked after thirty-five thousand
animals to earn their living from transportation would lose their jobs. Overall, the
Ottoman treasury and the mercantile classes would suffer serious consequences.84
Therefore, the construction of a better road that connected Trabzon to Erzurum
was inevitable. The French estimated the cost to be 80,000-100,000 liras in total. In this
case, the sixty-hour long journey between the two cities would take even less than fifty
hours. The French also suggested that the Ottoman state should use 2,000-3,000 soldiers
in the road’s construction to reduce the cost. Even if the amount of 80,000-100,000 liras
appeared on the surface too high, the Ottoman economy would compensate for this loss
in the long-run with an increase in its commercial income.85 The British were also
concerned about potential Russian competition for the Iranian transit trade and therefore
recommended the Ottomans to reduce the transit tax to one percent. The British consul in
Erzurum thought that the increase in the city’s exports of wheat after the completion of
the Trabzon-Erzurum road would compensate for this loss.86
Meanwhile, the British were also involved in planning the construction of a road
that would connect Erzurum to the Iranian border at Bayezid. Even though this road was
not actually built, the British thought about many details concerning its construction. In
the original contract prepared by the Ottomans, the contractor had the following rights
84 Ibid.
85 Ibid.
86 PMOA, HR.TO 213/52, 18 May 1850
276
and obligations: he had to finish building the road in three years in return for tax-farming
the collection of tariffs for the next ten years following the construction. The British had
some reservations about this deal. First, the value of tax-farming would increase each
year after the road’s completion. Therefore, according to the agreement, the contractor
should tax-farm the collection of tariffs only for the first three years after the construction
was finished. With this income, he could pay the interest on the debts that he had to
borrow for building the road. After three years, the contractor could collect the tariffs for
another five years. However, the state had to increase the value of tax-farming by ten
percent every year. If the tariff income was more than the tax-farming price, the taxfarmer
could retain half of the difference and Istanbul could receive the rest.87
In addition, the tax-farmer would charge one lira to a carriage pulled by a horse or
two oxen or to similar big carriages; but the passage of peasants and other travelers had to
be free of any taxes or charges. Under these circumstances, the contractor could pay off
all of his debt and the interest in the following six years after the road’s completion. In
the last four years of the contract, he could profit from the income that the road
generated. The British consul estimated the cost of the construction to be 37,500 liras
(9,000 kese) and the income of the last four years to be 75,000 liras (18,000 kese). In
other words, the entrepreneur could make a profit of 37,500 liras in ten years. The
entrepreneur also had to construct khans and maintain the road until the end of the
contract. Last but not least, he had to hire a European engineer to draw a map of the road
that the Ottomans would approve. Once the road was ready for carriage traffic, Istanbul
87 PMOA, HR.TO 215/2, 15 May 1850
277
would appoint an engineer to judge whether the entrepreneur had built the road according
to the standards set by the contract and the original map of the road.88
At this point of the attempted agreement, it appears that the British sided with the
Ottomans and tried to revise the contract so that it was more advantageous for Istanbul.
The archives do not provide sufficient evidence to explain why the British supported the
Ottoman Empire. In the meantime, the Ottomans were considering the construction of an
alternative road that arrived on the Black Sea coast via Kars instead of Erzurum. At this
moment, the British consul in Erzurum informed the Ottomans that they preferred them
to focus on the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road instead of an alternative route
that passed through Kars. According to the consul, Trabzon road would be much more
efficient in preventing the shift of the Iranian trade to Georgia, which was under Russian
influence at the time.89
Based on this information, it is possible to hypothesize that the British tried to
convince the Ottomans about the importance of the Trabzon-Erzurum road instead of an
alternative route that passed through Kars. In other words, the British might have been
sympathetic to the Ottomans on the contract of the Erzurum-Bayezid road in order to
raise the stakes in their favor while negotiating with them about the significance of the
Trabzon road relative to the Kars route. It is still not clear, however, why the British
disapproved the Kars road. Its proximity to the Russian border or the fact that the British
would possibly have to transfer their consulate from Erzurum to Kars may be among the
reasons.
88 Ibid.
89 PMOA, HR.TO 214/54, 23 August 1850
278
In this context, when the Ottoman state halted the construction of the Trabzon-
Erzurum road in 1850, it disappointed not only the Ottomans, but also many of the
European powers. Even six years later, the French consul accused Ismail Pasha of
wasting a lot of money, the result of which forced Istanbul to stop the construction. The
consul added that only a European company could finish this magnificent project.
Otherwise, the Ottoman Empire would lose the Iranian transit trade to the Russians who
were planning to improve their infrastructure on the eastern Black Sea coast.90
Thus when Russia declared three years later (1859) that they were about to finish
paving the road that connected Tbilisi to the Black Sea, the fears of the French consul
became reality. Hilmi Effendi, the Ottoman representative on commerce in Tabriz,
warned Arif Bey, the governor of Erzurum, that the residents of Erzurum would no
longer enjoy the advantages of living near a trade route. Russia’s goal was to divert to its
own territory the Iranian merchants who used the Trabzon-Erzurum road to reach first
Istanbul and then the European markets. Moreover, Russia had recently stopped taking
customs tax from the goods that the Iranian merchants carried along the Tbilisi road.
These conditions would no doubt mean a loss of income for Erzurum residents.91
Hilmi Effendi reported in his letter to Arif Bey that at least a thousand animals
and pieces of merchandise had already passed along the Tbilisi road and concluded his
letter by suggesting to Arif Bey that he should build the Trabzon-Bayburt and Erzurum-
Bayezid roads as soon as possible. Arif Bey replied that the construction of the Trabzon-
Bayburt road had already started and that authorities planned to build the Erzurum-
90 PMOA, HR.TO 196/69, 2 July 1856
91 PMOA, I.DH 425/28101, 23 Recep 1275 (26 February 1859)
279
Bayezid section (which was fifty hours long) next spring. Thanks to its topography, the
construction of the latter section was expected to be relatively easy compared with the
section between Erzurum and Trabzon.92 However, the construction of the road between
Erzurum and Bayezid did not start for many decades to come.
At the end of 1860, Ottoman authorities were relieved when they heard that the
Russians faced many difficulties in the construction of the Poti road (like the soil being
too muddy) and thus quit the whole project after two European engineers concluded that
the topography of the chosen route was too inappropriate for the construction of the
road.93 Two years later, in 1862, the governor of Trabzon once more expressed his
concern about a possible Russian competition. Russia was trying to extend its road
network to the regions near Batumi, therefore, the governor demanded from Istanbul an
experienced engineer who would speed up the construction process of the Erzurum
road.94
Two years later, the Grand Council attributed the Russian competition over the
Iranian transit trade to the risks and dangers that the area’s mountainous topography
presented to travelers of the Trabzon-Erzurum Road.95 As an incentive to the users of the
road, the provincial government of Trabzon demanded the Council to cancel the two
percent transit tax that the Iranian merchants had to pay.96 Meanwhile, Russia declared
92 Ibid.
93 PMOA, MVL 606/43, 15 Cemaziyülahır 1277 (29 December 1860)
94 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 246/32, 19 Cemaziyülevvel 1279 (12 November 1862)
95 PMOA, I.MVL 512/23093, 12 Safer 1281 (17 July 1864)
96 PMOA, MVL 680/8, 23 Safer 1281 (28 July 1864)
280
the completion of a road that connected Poti and Iran through Tbilisi and Nakhchivan.
Travel on this new road was twenty-four hours shorter than the old route. The Russian
government also promised financial compensation for any losses that merchants would
face while travelling in its territories. On July 1st 1864, the Russian consul in Erzurum
officially announced this news to the merchants in the city. On January 13th 1865, the
French newspaper Journal de Constantinople published an article confirming Russia’s
abolition of the transit tax. The chief of the Ottoman customs office in Erzurum first
consulted the Iranian merchants in the city and then affirmed Istanbul that the Iranians
were reluctant to use the Caucasian road. The officer was unsure, however, how Russian
or French merchants would respond to these changes.97
According to British consular reports, Iranian cotton products were transported to
the Black Sea mostly via Poti and Tbilisi rather than through Erzurum and Trabzon in
1865. At the same time, Russia employed 100,000 soldiers in order to finish the
construction of the rail line between the Black and Caspian Seas in early 1866.98 By
1866, Ottoman authorities had still not taken any substantial measures to solve the
problem of a potential Russian competition for the Iranian transit trade. Meanwhile, the
Russian Empire was still building the railroad to connect the Black Sea to the Caspian
Sea. The railroad was expected to be ready in two years and Russia employed 200,000
soldiers in the construction. They also considered building a harbor in Poti. The
Ottomans were not the only ones worried about this Russian attempt. The British
97 PMOA, MVL 698/55, 29 Sevval 1281 (27 March 1865)
98 “Report by Mr. Consul Taylor on the Trade of Erzeroom for the Year 1865” in Commercial Reports
Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls in 1866, London: Harison and Sons, May 1866,
p. 218, 225
281
consulate in Erzurum notified the Ottoman state that the construction of a road
connecting Trabzon not only to Erzurum but all the way to Bayezid on the Iranian border
was the only means of preventing Russian efforts to attract the Iranian transit trade to its
own territories. As a matter of fact, the consul thought that the income that the Trabzon-
Bayezid road would generate in the long run would finance even the construction of a
railroad line.99
The previous accounts portray the history of the Trabzon-Bayezid road as a story
in which the Ottomans, the French, and the British seemed to ally against imperial
Russia; but there were also clashes within the Ottoman-French-British alliance. First of
all, the Ottomans were concerned about the extent of French and British involvement.
Moreover, the British and the French were also wary of one another. As a matter of fact,
the following story suggests that the British had their own spies in Trabzon who gathered
intelligence on certain French citizens.
On October 19th 1867, the British consulate received a detailed report about a
certain Monsieur Reboul who applied to the Ottoman state in order to establish a
company that would finish the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road. Monsieur
Reboul’s main supporter was his uncle by marriage, Monsieur Bruno, the head of the
Phanariot100 community in Istanbul. Monsieur Reboul was born in Istanbul and one of his
99 PMOA, HR.TO 242/38, 1 March 1866; PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 355/96, 1 Muharrem 1283 (16 May
1866)
100 An Ottoman Greek community residing in Fener –which was one of the main Ottoman Greek quarters in
Istanbul, also home to the Ecumenical Orthodox Patriarchate.
282
parents was French while the other one was an Ottoman Greek. In 1850, he had settled in
Trabzon to work for the Messageries Company.101
Later, Monsieur Reboul formed a partnership with one of his friends in Erzurum
and started trading leather. However, he went bankrupt with a debt amounting to 1,500
liras. His bosses at the Messageries Company reserved half of his stipend so that he could
save enough money to pay two thirds of his debt. In 1864, he also started working for
free as the Belgian consul in Trabzon after the French consul accepted to be his
guarantor.102 Most probably, Monsieur Reboul accepted to be the Belgian consul without
payment in return for consular protection. As Toksöz argues, this was a common practice
in Çukurova region.103 British consular reports also confirm that the Belgian consul in
Trabzon did not receive a stipend from the Belgian government and worked as the agent
of the Messageries Company in 1868.104 In 1867, Monsieur Reboul still had a debt of 500
liras.105
101 PMOA, HR.TO 244/18, 19 October 1867. The Reboul Family is still established in Istanbul. They are
running one of the oldest and most famous pharmacies of the city located on the Istiklal Avenue in Pera.
The pharmacy was opened in 1895 by Jean Cesar Reboul, who was a recent graduate of the School of
Pharmacy in Paris University. Jean Cesar was in Istanbul on his way to visit his father who was an
employee of the company which was constructing the Trabzon-Hopa road. Since Jean Cesar liked Istanbul
so much, he decided to settle in the city and opened the “Grande Pharmacie Parisienne” (Grand Parisian
Pharmacy) in Rumeli Khan. The pharmacy (now called Rebul Pharmacy) is the only pharmacy in Turkey
which still exists in the same location as it was founded during the Ottoman Empire. For further
information, see the website of the Rebul Pharmacy at http://www.rebuleczanesi.com/tarihce. I should
thank Umur Basdas for bringing to my attention that Monsieur Reboul might be related to the Rebul
Pharmacy in Istanbul. I contacted the family but, unfortunately, did not receive a response.
102 PMOA, HR.TO 244/18, 19 October 1867
103 Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean, 120.
104 “Report on the Provinces of Trebizond, Sivas, Kastemouni, and Part of Angora, by Mr. Consul W.
Gifford Palgrave” in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls
During the Year 1868, August to December, London, February 1869, p. 339
105 PMOA, HR.TO 244/18, 19 October 1867
283
Drawing on this intelligence, the British report concluded that Monsieur Reboul
did not possess enough capital to build the Trabzon-Erzurum road and that he hoped to
borrow money from the French Ministry of Commerce. Otherwise, instead of financing
the construction, he could only work as an assistant clerk in the Trabzon-Erzurum road
company that he wanted to establish. Moreover, no one in Trabzon, Istanbul, or even
France had enough capital or power to undertake the construction of the Trabzon-
Erzurum road which would also require the foundation of a maritime company in
Trabzon in order to fully benefit from the road. In the estimation of the report’s writer,
only a Belgian or British citizen could carry out these large-scale projects. In his
concluding remarks, the author of the report mentioned a certain Monsieur Lafontaine
who lived at 21 Voyvoda Street in Galata in Istanbul as someone who could provide
useful information about possible British investors.106 This story attests to the British
concerns about the French competition and shows that there were also tensions within the
European alliance which was formed against the Russian interest in the Trabzon-Bayezid
road.
Regardless of British opposition, the Ottomans negotiated with the French about
the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road. Three months after the British report, the
Ottoman Ministry of Foreign Affairs ordered the consulate in Paris to announce in French
newspapers that they would contract the Trabzon-Erzurum road to a foreign company.
The consulate replied that they had already gotten into contact with a certain Monsieur
Marc Dmitri who seemed to be very interested in the project.107
106 Ibid.
107 PMOA, HR.TO 77/57, 10 January 1868
284
In early 1868, Iranian transit trade traffic on the Trabzon-Bayezid route continued
to increase in spite of the Russian rivalry.108 Only a couple of months later however,
Gifford Palgrave, the British consul to Trabzon, wrote a new report and stated the
dangers posed by the Poti road.109 Thus in 1869, Russian competition was again an issue
of concern for the Ottomans. The Ottoman representative on commerce in Tabriz
reported that Russia was renovating the road between Poti and the Iranian border.110
Moreover, the construction of the harbor at Poti and the railroad between Poti and Tbilisi
was in progress; but the Russian government still needed at least a few more years to
finish these two projects. At this time, the director of the Imperial Messageries Company
shared the French Minister of Foreign Affairs’ concerns about Trabzon harbor’s relative
loss of importance due to the Russian influence in Caucasia. Transit trade merchants
preferred Poti road because Russians did not take any duties whereas merchants had to
pay a two percent transit duty to send their merchandise from Trabzon to Erzurum.
Consequently, the Messageries Company transferred its ships to the port in Poti so as to
adjust to the changes in Iranian transit trade merchants’ attitude; but once they were
there, they had to face competition from Russian ships.111
108 “Report on the Provinces of Trebizond, Sivas, Kastemouni, and Part of Angora, by Mr. Consul W.
Gifford Palgrave” in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls
During the Year 1868, August to December, London, February 1869, p. 342
109 “Report by Mr. Consul Gifford-Palgrave, on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1868”
in Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls in 1869, August,
London, August 1869, p. 429
110 PMOA, I.DH 598/41651, 2 Cemaziyülâhır 1286 (9 September 1869)
111 PMOA, HR.TO 203/35, 13 May 1869
285
The French were aware of the Ottomans’ anxieties about this situation, since the
revenue Trabzon generated from commerce faced a serious risk. So far, the Trabzon
Road Commission had been successful in its efforts to finish the construction of the
Trabzon-Erzurum road; but according to the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the
existence of the road was not enough to prevent merchants who circulated along this road
from relocating to Caucasia. In addition, the Ottoman state definitely needed to annul the
collection of duties at the Trabzon customs house.112
The abolishment of the customs duty in Russia surely had its benefits. Iranian
merchants were able to make a profit of 2 liras for every 230 kilograms (180 kıyye - 507
pounds) of merchandise. The agents of the Iranian merchants in Trabzon were all
Ottoman Greeks who had close ties with the Greek and Russian consulates. Therefore,
they played an active role in encouraging the Iranian merchants to use the Russian roads.
Last but not least, the Russian consul in Trabzon had met with the Iranian consul to
convince him about the advantages that the Russian roads presented. Thanks to all these
factors, Iranian merchants had started passing through Caucasia which caused many
Ottomans to lose their jobs. To escape poverty, some Ottoman subjects considered
emigration.113
If the Ottomans finished the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road soon and
also abolished the customs duties, it was likely that they could have attracted Iranian
transit trade back to the Ottoman territories because they had many advantages that the
Russians lacked. For example, Iranian merchants could communicate in Turkish but
112 Ibid.
113 PMOA, HR.TO 452/41, 12 July 1869
286
could not in Russian. Second, time was an important factor, as Iranian merchants spent
only thirty-five days to transport their goods through the Ottoman territories, whereas the
road that passed through Russia took fifty days. Last but not least, due to the swamps that
dotted the topography, the Russians had so far failied to build railroads. On the areas that
had already been constructed, some railroads had recently collapsed. The Russians were
now thinking of changing the route all together and not using any of the finished sections
of the railroad line. Therefore, if the Ottomans completed the Trabzon-Erzurum road
before the Russians had time to resolve these issues, and also abolished the customs duty
in the meantime, they could surely regain the Iranian transit trade.114
Finally, in 1869, the Ottoman state decided to reduce the transit trade duty from
two to one percent. Thus, the annual revenue that the central treasury gained from the
goods transported along the Trabzon-Bayezid road declined from 25,000 liras to 12,000
liras.115 If the customs duty was abolished, the Ottoman treasury would lose this revenue
all together. The treasury, however, could compensate for this loss based on the
advantages mentioned above. If Iranian merchants returned to the Trabzon-Erzurum road,
the muleteers who had recently lost their jobs could be reemployed. Besides, the high
number of muleteers would lead to competition and in fact bring about a further decrease
in transportation costs. Furthermore, the Ottoman economy would profit from this
decrease in the long-run as less expensive transportation costs would facilitate
agricultural production. If transportation costs were cheaper, peasants could begin to farm
114 Ibid.
115 Ibid.; HR.TO 510/13, 23 December 1869
287
empty lands and prices of agricultural products would, in the long-run, decrease thirty to
forty percent.116
Another reason why Iranians preferred the Tbilisi-Poti road was banditry on the
Trabzon-Erzurum road and the difficulties faced by merchants in reclaiming reparations
for their goods stolen within the Ottoman territories. Due to all these factors, in 1869,
trade along the Trabzon-Erzurum road experienced considerable losses compared to the
previous years. Moreover, the conditions at the harbor in Trabzon were not very helpful
in reversing this trend. Since the harbor faced northwestern and northeastern winds, there
were times when ships could not enter the harbor. Instead, they had to take shelter at
Polathane Bay, eleven kilometers (seven miles) west of Trabzon.117
In 1870, despite the Russian competition, Trabzon was still the main harbor
through which the Iranian transit trade passed. The shortness of the Erzurum road relative
to the Russian alternative which passed through Poti was one of the main reasons.
Second, the Ottoman state’s decision to reduce the transit duty from two percent to one
percent in 1869 also enhanced the Ottomans’ ability to compete with Russia. Third, the
improvement in road quality within Trabzon’s city center connecting the Eastern Square
to the Erzurum road also made Iranian traders prefer to pass through the Ottoman lands.
29,995 forced laborers and 2,200 paid workers were employed in the construction of this
section of the road.118
116 PMOA, HR.TO 452/41, 12 July 1869
117 PMOA, HR.TO 509/75, 21 June 1869
118 “Report by Mr. Consul Palgrave, on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1869” in
Commercial Reports Received at the Foreign Office from Her Majesty’s Consuls, in 1869-70, London:
Harrison and Sons, July 1870, p. 557, 559, 562.
288
In 1873, the Ottoman state finally agreed to annul the customs tariff all
together.119 1873 was also the year when the Ottoman transit trade revenue from the
Trabzon-Erzurum road, which had been increasing ever since 1866 (even though the
level of growth in the transit trade was decreasing at the same time), finally ceased to
rise.120 In the same year, the British Vice-Consul Biliotti reported that “the Poti Railway
has diverted from Trebizond part of the transit trade, although . . . the bulk of the
merchandize continues to find its way to and from Persia through the [Ottoman] road.”121
At the same time however, the annulment of the transit duty did not cause a drastic
change in the Iranian merchants’ attitude and failed to attract the Iranians back to the
Ottoman territories. In the same report, Biliotti wrote: “The abolition in September last of
the customs’ duty of one percent on the transit trade to and from Persia has not produced
all the contemplated beneficial effects.”122 The Vice-Consul thought that the main reason
was the bad condition of the Erzurum road which prevented the passage of carts.123
At the same time, the Russians were planning to build a railroad line between
Tbilisi and Sokhumi, thus substituting the latter as the new seaport (alternative to Poti
whose harbor was not convenient for large amounts of haulage). On the other hand, the
119 PMOA, A.MKT.MHM 460/6, 4 Cemaziyülahır 1290 (30 July 1873)
120 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19
Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881)
121 “Report by Vice-Consul Biliotti on the Trade of Trebizond for the Year 1873” in Reports from Her
Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of Their Consular Districts, Part IV, London:
Harrison and Sons, August 1874, p. 1629.
122 Ibid., 1632
123 Ibid.
289
new line would also extend as far as Baku in the east and Tabriz in the south.124 Two
years later in 1875, Biliotti noted that direct steam navigation between Poti and
Marseilles also caused caravans to prefer the Caucasian roads rather than the Trabzon-
Erzurum road.125 Accordingly, steamers which left Trabzon had to transfer their
merchandise to other ships in Istanbul before continuing to the Mediterranean.
Three years later in 1878, the Austrian consul asked the Ottoman Ministry of
Foreign Affairs to reconstruct the road between Erzurum and Bayezid in order to
facilitate transportation on this route and reattract the Iranian transit trade to the Ottoman
territories. The Ottoman state replied that the treasury lacked the necessary funds for such
an enterprise.126 Moreover, European consulates and politicians were not the only
individuals interested in the fate of the Trabzon-Erzurum road. The transnational
importance of the road transcended beyond diplomatic relations and became part of the
European public opinion. For example, a French newspaper discussed in an article the
recent transfer of Batumi to Russia as a result of the Treaty of Berlin and its
consequences regarding commercial matters on the Trabzon-Bayezid road.127
At this point, we should also mention that the Russian competition did not result
in an overall abandonment of the road by Iranian merchants. The British consul in
Trabzon observed that some of the Iranians were returning to the Erzurum road because
124 Ibid., 1636
125 “Report by Vice-Consul Biliotti on the Trade and Commerce of Trebizond for the Year 1875” in
Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of Their Consular Districts,
Part IV, London: Harrison and Sons, June 1876, p. 1086
126 PMOA, HR.TO 166/38, 7 September 1878; A.MKT.MHM 483/51, 4 Muharrem 1296 (29 December
1878)
127 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
290
they were not pleased with certain measures that the Russian government implemented.
The consul is not clear about the specifics of these measures, but he also expressed
concerns that the insecurities of the Ottoman road might lead the Iranians back to
Caucasia.128
Henry Fanshawe Tozer was also surprised by the frequency of the Iranian
caravans which passed him by even though he had recently heard that “the Russian
railway from Poti on the Black Sea to Tiflis in Georgia has diverted a great part of the
Persian traffic.” Tozer continued, “but this does not seem to be the case. On the contrary,
the captain of one of the French steamers that ply between Trebizond and Constantinople
told me that, instead of declining, the Erzeroum trade has increased of later years.”129
Four years later, Russia banned the transit of European commodities via Caucasia
to Iran and other Asian markets because the merchants in Moscow had made it clear that
they were unable to compete with foreign merchants.130 This decision left the Europeans
with only one option to reach the Iranian market: the Trabzon-Bayezid road.
Consequently, Trabzon was still the only Black Sea port open for goods to Persia in
1904.131 In 1883, after Russia turned its face to mercantilism, the immediate response of
the Tabriz merchants was to contact the Ottoman representative on commerce. They
made clear that Istanbul urgently needed to repair the Erzurum-Bayezid road. Similarly,
128 PMOA, HR.TO 254/33, 7 October 1878
129 Tozer, 404.
130 PMOA, HR.TO 333/85, 17 July 1883
131 Foreign Office, Diplomatic and Consular Reports, Turkey, Trade of the Trebizond Vilayet for the Year
of 1904, Annual Series No. 3359, London, May 1905, p. 12.
291
the French and the Austrian consuls in Tabriz visited the Ottoman representative. They
also asked their respective governments to convince their consuls in Istanbul to put
pressure on the Sublime Porte in order to finish the Erzurum-Bayezid road. They also
contacted the Iranian government to build a well-maintained road between Bayezid and
Tabriz. The consuls also received petitions from the French, Italian, Austrian, and
German merchants complaining about the change in Russian attitude towards a
mercantilist policy. Consequently, the Ottoman representative in Tabriz wrote to the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs that the Erzurum-Bayezid road had a special importance for
the Ottomans and that Istanbul should start its construction immediately –before the
Austrian and French consuls further intervened into the internal affairs of the empire.132
Thirteen years later in 1896, the section of the road between Erzurum and Bayezid
still caused some trouble in international politics. Recently, French entrepreneurs had
gained a concession to build a road in northern Iran. The entrepreneurs had also invested
money in the Golden Horn dock in Istanbul. They sent an engineer to Tabriz to survey
whether the construction of the road in Iran was profitable or not. In his report, the
engineer wrote that the road’s success depended upon the Ottomans’ construction of the
Erzurum-Bayezid section. At that time, only eighteen miles (thirty kilometers) between
Erzurum and Hasankale were in good condition and there was some work done around
Eleskirt.133
Russian competition reappeared as a problem for Erzurum in the early twentieth
century when the Russian government started following a new economic policy.
132 PMOA, HR.TO 104/41, 29 June 1883
133 PMOA, BEO 753/56442, 4 Sevval 1313 (19 March 1896)
292
Accordingly, in order to subsidize their merchants, the Russian government continued
imposing heavy duties on European goods which reached the Iranian market through the
Poti-Baku road. Nonetheless, in order to attract the Iranian transit trade merchants from
the Trabzon-Erzurum road back to its own territories, the Russians eased taxes on the
Iranian transit trade goods which were transported on the Poti-Baku road in order to
access European markets.134
This policy must have succeeded so that the Ottoman income from the Iranian
transit trade witnessed tremendous losses in 1912. Accordingly, Erzurum profited sixty
piasters from each flock of caravan (a flock usually consisted of seven camels) per day.
Caravans spent twelve days on the way between Kızılvize and Erzurum, four days in
Erzurum customs house, and seven days between Erzurum and Murat Hanoglu’s stopping
place (menzil) on the Gümüshane border. Thus, a flock spent forty-six days on a roundtrip
within the borders of Erzurum which profited 27.6 liras from each flock in total.
Therefore, Erzurum’s transit trade income decreased from 42,486 liras in 1907 to 2,484
liras in 1912, a dramatic decline for the province. In addition to this loss of 40,000 liras
every year, the khan keepers had also lost their jobs. Meanwhile, there was a decrease not
only in the Iranian transit trade, but also in the exports of Erzurum. Accordingly, the city
had recently started exporting less wheat, barley, and linseed compared to previous
years.135
In conclusion, from 1883 to 1912, the Trabzon-Bayezid road ceased to be a matter
of concern in transnational politics. Russia’s mercantilist policies clearly ended the
134 PMOA, DH.ID 25/11, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1330 (18 April 1912)
135 Ibid.
293
French and British concerns. One important question that begs an answer is why the
Ottomans finally surrendered to the “Great” Powers’ demand to annul the transit tax in
1873. British consular reports justify the Ottoman authorities’ insistence on collecting
customs duties from the Iranian merchants until 1873 –in spite of all the pressure coming
from the foreign consuls who frequently mentioned the dangers of the Russian
competition as a discursive tool in legitimizing free trade and liberal economy in the
Ottoman territories. As a matter of fact, the Iranian transit trade witnessed a general
growth during the period between 1866 and 1873 even though the rate of growth was
gradually declining.136 Therefore, the Ottomans saw no use in terminating the customs
tariff until 1873.
Even though Issawi observes a general decrease in the Iranian transit trade on the
Trabzon-Erzurum road after 1860, there were short intervals during which transit trade
income was still on the rise even according to his calculations. For example, the volume
of transit trade to Iran increased from 42,254 parcels to 87,133 parcels during 1866-1867
and the transit trade exports from Iran rose from 244,000 liras (6.1 million Francs) to
404,000 liras (10.1 million Francs) during 1867-1868.137 Actually, concerns about a
possible Russian competition were widespread even before the 1860s –in other words,
when the Iranian transit trade passing through the Ottoman territories was actually
ascending.138 This suggests that Russian competition was more of a discursive tool in the
136 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19
Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881)
137 Issawi, "The Tabriz-Trabzon Trade," 25, 27.
138 Ömer Sen, "Trabzon-Tiflis Transit Ticaret Yolu Rekabeti," in Imparatorlugu Kurtarmak: Osmanlı'nın
Gerçeklerle Yüzlesmesi (Istanbul: Kapı Yayınları, 2008).
294
hands of the Europeans to defend their own interests in northeastern Anatolia rather than
a real threat until the early 1870s when the transit trade income of Russia finally started
to exceed that of the Ottoman Empire.
Conclusion:
This chapter has focused on three spatial levels in order to highlight the
significance of the road within a regional context. The case from 1858 and then Ohannes’
offer to establish a coach company in 1873 highlight the clashes between the Trabzon and
Erzurum provincial governments and hence the fragmented nature of the modern
Ottoman state at the provincial level. As a port city, Trabzon was interested in facilitating
trade and extracting as many resources and goods as possible from the interior regions of
Eastern Anatolia whereas the provincial government of Erzurum was more concerned
about the military significance of the Trabzon road.
Second, the protest of Rize dwellers against the construction of the Trabzon-
Erzurum road in 1865 shows the diverse nature of local politics where not only provinces
but also smaller residential areas (within a single province) were in disagreement with
one another. Instead of Trabzon, the residents of Rize wanted their town to become the
major port city which connected Eastern Anatolia to the Black Sea coast. Therefore, they
opposed the construction of the Trabzon road and supported the construction of the
alternative Rize-Erzurum route which connected Erzurum to the coast in a much shorter
and more direct way.
Last but not least, the Trabzon-Bayezid road was significant not only for these
local and provincial rivalries among different Ottoman towns and cities but also for the
295
Russo-Ottoman competition concerning the Iranian transit trade. This transformed the
road into a transnational arena on which a variety of actors ranging from European
consuls to Russian and Iranian merchants had a claim. Thus, it was not only the Ottoman
state but also a variety of actors who were interested in the road and who claimed their
“sovereignty” on it.
In spite of the road’s significance within this regional context which brought a
vairety of local, provinvial, and imperial actors together, the road ceased to function
properly in certain other cases such as drought and famine. We now turn to these two
themes.
296
CHAPTER V
POITICAL ECONOMY OF THE ROAD:
MARKET, FAMINE, AND MIGRATION
Embrace us, Silk Roads
The rainbow passes by above us
Clouds in love, flying carpets
Gates of the world are not far
Where is our home?
Where is it abroad?
Our homeland is roads.
Dönmek (To Return)
By Murathan Mungan1
Introduction: Are Roads the Solution for or the Cause of Famine?
In 1840, a civil servant suggested to the central government that the state should
build more roads –instead of lending money to peasants- so that they could easily sell
their products on the market, which would in turn solve the problem of peasant
indebtedness.2 This advice coincided with the rebellions which took place to protest the
tax reforms of the new Tanzimat regime that was promulgated only a year ago. These
rebellions were led by local notables who wanted to protect their privileges. Peasants also
participated in these rebellions in order to protest Istanbul’s failure to implement the
Tanzimat reforms which promised equality among a newly defined Ottoman citizenry.
1 Al bizi koynuna ipek yolları, üstümüzden geçiyor gökkusagı, sevdalı bulutlar uçan halılar, uzak degil
dünyanın kapıları, neresi sıla bize? Neresi gurbet? Yollar bize memleket.
2 PMOA, C.NF 1057, 9 Recep 1256 (6 September 1840)
297
There was widespread resistance in Cyprus, Yozgat, Tokat, Burdur, Denizli, and
Çarsamba in 1840 and in Niš in 1841.3
In a broader context, the advice by this civil servant underlines two important
issues: 1) that peasants were in need of cash and 2) that the state’s solution to this
problem was to promote the commercialization of agriculture. Ottoman historians still
discuss why peasants were in need of cash. While one approach relates this need to the
monetization of the Ottoman taxation system4 -a long and gradual process that dated back
to the seventeenth century-, another approach focuses on household demand.5 Regardless
of which approach is more “valid” or “true,” it is beyond dispute that Ottoman authorities
considered the commercialization of agriculture as the solution to supply peasants with
more cash. To what extent peasants sold their products in the market and then paid their
taxes in cash is still discussed among Ottomanists; but Mr. Biliotti, the British viceconsul
to Trabzon, observed in 1877 that “peasants sold their products at proportionate
3 For further information on the social responses to the promulgation of the Tanzimat regime see Ahmet
Uzun, Tanzimat ve Sosyal Direnisler: Nis 'syanı Üzerine Ayrıntılı Bir 'nceleme (Istanbul: Eren Yayıncılık,
2002); Halil Hnalcık, "Application of the Tanzimat and Its Social Effects," Archivum Ottomanicum, no. 5
(1973).
4 According to the first approach, the Ottoman state was in need of cash because of the requirements of a
professional army. Therefore, authorities gradually changed the long-established taxation system which
was based on taxes in kind (the tımar system which constituted the basis for both the Ottoman military and
the taxation system until the seventeenth century) and three sources of revenue gained new importance
(cizye / poll tax from the non-Muslims (1590s), avarız-ı divaniye (1620s) and tekalif-i örfiye (extraordinary
taxes and imperial and customary levies), and iltizam (tax-farming) system –which were all taxes in cash).
Hence, peasants’ need for cash was the outcome of these historical developments. As peasants needed
money to pay their taxes, the result of this process was the emergence of a commercialized agricultural
market. For further information see Linda T. Darling, Revenue-Raising and Legitimacy: Tax Collection and
Finance Administration in the Ottoman Empire, 1560-1660 (Leiden & New York: E.J. Brill, 1996), 81-82.
5 The second group of historians who are influenced by consumption studies claim that the other approach
gives too much priority to the state’s initiatives. Instead, they emphasize peasants’ need to fulfill their
various desires as the reason behind the increase in demand for cash. For further information see Donald
Quataert, Consumption Studies and the History of the Ottoman Empire, 1550-1922: An Introduction
(Albany: State University of New York Press, 2000).
298
prices, averaging the former ones in silver, and paid their taxes to the Government in
paper money.”6
In 1881, almost forty years after an Ottoman bureaucrat suggested to construct
roads in order to commercialize agriculture, another Ottoman official, Saffet Pasha,
suggested that a certain amount of the agricultural commodities produced in a specific
region should remain in the storehouses in that region, so that there would be always
enough food in case of an emergency such as a famine (thus completely reversing the
advice from 1840). The famine of 1874 must, no doubt, have played a role in this change.
As a matter of fact, Saffet Pasha specifically refers to the 1874 famine which caused
more than thirty thousand casualties in Ankara province alone. Especially during the
winter, it was too difficult to send food supplies to the regions which were at a distance
from coastal cities and lacked any good road connections. In 1881, Diyarbakir and Van
provinces suffered from the same problem.7
In the same year, Hassan Fehmi Pasha, the Minister of Public Works, wrote a long
memorandum which also indicated the importance of roads in fighting famine.8 As a
matter of fact, Erzurum province was also partially affected by the 1880-1881 famine and
the cause was not only drought or other environmental problems. Henry Fanshawe Tozer
reports that “the peasants had stored far less grain than they had sown, and flour in
6 “Report by Vice-Consul Biliotti on the Trade, Commerce, and Navigation of the Port and District of
Trebizond for the Years 1877-78” in Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce,
&c., of their Consular Districts, Part III, London: Harrison and Sons, June 1879, p. 1020
7 PMOA, Y.EE 43/141, 29 Cemaziyülâhır 1298 (29 May 1881)
8 Celal Dinçer, "Osmanlı Vezirlerinden Hasan Fehmi Pasa'nın Anadolu'nun Bayındırlık Hslerine Dair
Hazırladıgı Layiha," Belgeler: Türk Tarih Belgeleri Dergisi V-VIII, no. 9-12 (1968-1971): 159.
299
consequence was six times as dear as it had been a year before, the measure that then cost
2 ½ piasters being purchased at this time for 15 piasters.”9
This statement raises two major questions. First, are famines only an
environmental crisis caused by high levels of drought or do human factors such as
malfunctions in the distribution of goods play a role as well? In other words, could
famine be the consequence of structural-economic causes such as better transportation
facilities which promoted the commercialization of agriculture? Second, was the Ottoman
economic policy shifting away from commercialization back to provisionism so that the
state could fight against famine more effectively in the future –as expressed by the advice
given by Saffet Pasha in 1881?
Recent studies on the characteristics of famines have revealed that disasters are
not purely natural phenomena. For example, Davis points out that disasters are caused by
man-made problems. Davis displays how the mortality rates caused by famine were
higher in areas “modernized” by the construction of the British railroads in India during
the El Nino climatic patterns of the nineteenth century. According to Davis, not nature
but high prices turned droughts into famine and famine into epidemic diseases.10
Moreover, modernization and immiseration went hand in hand when railroads
helped the spread of epidemic diseases. Therefore, according to Davis, it was imperialism
and the problems intrinsic to capitalism –not climate change- that killed millions. El Nino
was a necessary condition but not a sufficient cause for the emergence of these man-made
9 Tozer, 415.
10 Mike Davis, Late Victorian Holocausts: El Niño Famines and the Making of the Third World (New
York: Verso, 2001).
300
disasters. For example, before the advent of colonialism, both China and India were able
to deal with drought and famine effectively through state intervention and thus prevent
the death of thousands of people.11
Along the same line, Sen suggests that “starvation is the characteristic of some
people not having enough food to eat. It is not the characteristic of there being not
enough food to eat.”12 This framework also allows us to link discussions on famine to a
broader questioning of modernization. As Davis rightly underlines, both crisis situations
such as wars, depressions, and extreme climatic conditions as well as “development”
(such as the construction of roads and railroads) itself may trigger socio-economic
problems like famine.13
In this context, the issue of famine also brings into light the contradictory nature
of the modern Ottoman state in relation to the new road constructions of the late
nineteenth century. Even though Davis’ analysis relies on geographies which were
exposed to the impact of colonialism and therefore are much different than the Ottoman
context, this chapter will suggest that a similar case, in other words the unequal
redistribution of resources rather than natural conditions such as droughts, was the main
trigger of famines in the late Ottoman world. Thus, while roads were initially seen as a
means of unifying a big imperial market, and bringing prosperity and welfare to the
11 Ibid.
12 Amartya Sen, Poverty and Famines: An Essay on Entitlement and Deprivation (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1983), 1.
13 Davis, 20.
301
Ottoman countryside, they also contributed to the decline in peasants’ self-sufficiency.14
In other words, roads, which were supposed to be the agents of economic unification,
could also have drastic consequences, especially in times of crises like famine: if
merchants had already transported all the food supplies produced by a certain region to
other parts of the empire and sold them on the market, the mere existence of roads would
not be enough for the state to transfer food from one region to another in times of crises.
The 1874 famine, which was a global phenomenon effecting other parts of the
world like India and China, had drastic consequences in central Anatolia; but had little
impact on the Erzurum region. However, twenty years later, the Erzurum Plain would
suffer from high levels of drought and famine. This environmental crisis of the mid-
1890s and how the state responded (or failed) to respond to this catastrophe will be
discussed in the following pages; but first a few words on the 1874 famine.
Famine of 1874:
On June 26th 1875, the British Consul of Erzurum wrote the following: “Did roads
and the means of transport exist, the distressed Districts could be abundantly relieved
from this Province . . . but the existing difficulties render relief from this quarter almost
14 Unfortunately, there is not much literature on the socio-economic changes that northeastern Anatolia
went through in the nineteenth century. Therefore, this dissertation does not take it for granted that there
was a substantial rise in the commercialization of agriculture which increased peasant indebtedness and
decreased peasant self-sufficiency. Nor does this dissertation claim that these problems were new to the
nineteenth century and that peasants lived in a purely isolated subsistence economy previously. The history
of the Trabzon-Bayezid road, however, shows that there was no grain stored when drought and famine
struck the region in the mid-1890s. Thus, it is beyond dispute that the peasants were not able to cope with
the crisis on their own. At the same time however, the failure of the Ottoman state to use the road
effectively in order to send food supplies back to the region also highlights how the modern state faced
difficulties in coping with the famine and in redistributing food supplies.
302
impossible.”15 Ankara and Konya provinces, which were affected by the 1874 famine,
were the “Districts” that the British consul referred to in this passage. Both provinces had
little connection with Erzurum. Confirming the British consul, Erler also cites the
inefficiency of the transportation system as a major factor that limited Istanbul’s ability to
cope with the famine.16 Last but not least, Quataert mentions the problem of transporting
grain during the 1874 famine. He cites the observations of Mary Mills Patrick who
travelled from Trabzon to Erzurum in 1871, complaining about the difficulties that she
had encountered on the road.17
Ironically, this was the year when the construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road
was finished, hence the year in which the road was expected to be in its best shape. While
individual travelers such as Patrick were not satisfied with the quality of the Trabzon
road, the grain exports of Erzurum, however, had ironically increased five to six times
(from approximately 2 million vakıyye or 2,566 tons / 5,657,061 pounds to 11 million
vakıyye or 14,113 tons / 31,113,839 pounds) in 1873 alone.18 British consular reports also
attest to the increase in exports of eastern Anatolia through the Trabzon harbor in 1873:
In former years the wheat required for the consumption of the town of
Trebizond itself was all imported by sea, and mostly from Russia. A few
years since, the inland districts contributed their share to the supply of grain
here, and during the present year the quantities of wheat carried from the
15 Consul Zohrab, Erzurum, 26 June 1875, Foreign Office 195-1060. I am thankful to Özge Ertem for
sharing this document with me.
16 Mehmet Yavuz Erler, Osmanlı Devleti'nde Kıtlık ve Kuraklık Olayları (1800-1880) (Istanbul: Libra
Kitap, 2010).
17 Mary Mills Patrick, Under Five Sultans (New York: Century Co., 1929), 14-17 in Quataert, "Famine in
Turkey," 22.
18 PMOA, I.MMS 68/3206, 19 Rebiyülâhır 1298 (21 March 1881); PMOA, Y.A.RES 10/18, 19 Rebiyülâhır
1298 (21 March 1881)
303
interior were such, as not only to be sufficient for the wants of the town, but
also to enable the hitherto unheard of amount of 400,000 bushels to be
exported from this port. They represent a value of 100,000l. . . . There is an
increase in the products exported, . . . the excess arises more especially
from the latent resources of the country, which have found an outward
stream through the new road.19
This was only a year before the advent of the 1874 famine. Thus, while merchants
in Erzurum were able to sell their products in the market easily in 1873, the Ottoman
state faced difficulties in sending food supplies from this region to Ankara and Konya
only a year later. In other words, difficult transportation conditions were not the only
issue which made the delivery of grain from Erzurum to Ankara and Konya impossible.
Even if transportation between the two provinces and Erzurum had been improved,
Erzurum Plain still lacked the food supplies it was expected to send to the disaster region
because the province had already sold its agricultural produce on the market.
In this context, the 1874 famine provides a good venue to examine if disasters are
natural events or man-made social phenomena as Davis and Sen rightfully put forward.
As Sen advocates, the main problem during the 1874 famine seems to be not the scarcity
of food, but its misdistribution and the unequal access that certain socio-economic groups
and regions had to food supplies. However, the 1874 famine had little impact on the
Trabzon-Erzurum region which constitutes the spatial framework of this dissertation. On
the contrary, only two decades later, the province of Erzurum would face tough
conditions following the recent drought and the subsequent famine. The neighboring
province of Trabzon would also be heavily affected by this catastrophe because it was the
19 “Report by Vice-Consul Biliotti on the Trade of Trebizond for the Year 1873” in Reports from Her
Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of Their Consular Districts, Part IV, London:
Harrison and Sons, August 1874, pp. 1628-1629, 1640.
304
main harbor through which authorities tried to transport food supplies to the affected
towns and villages. Below is a detailed analysis of this incident.
Famine of 1892-1894:
When the news of the famine first reached Istanbul, the immediate solution that
the central government implemented was to provide financial aid to Erzurum.
Accordingly, the Bank of Agriculture would lend 2,000 liras to the Erzurum municipal
treasury with interest. In addition, the bank would also lend money to the needy people of
Bayezid and other districts on Erzurum Plain (ova kazaları) until the next harvest. In
return, the wealthy families of the villages and their guarantors would have to mortgage
their real estate. In response to this suggestion, the Ministry of Commerce and Public
Works stated that the by-laws of the Agricultural Bank did not allow such a transfer of
loans to the municipalities. Moreover, the branch of the bank in Erzurum did not possess
the requested amount of 2,000 liras. Therefore, the Ottoman Bank –and not the Bank of
Agriculture- was asked to lend money to Erzurum.20
In a second correspondence, the provincial government in Erzurum replied that
even if they used the loan from the Ottoman Bank to buy grain, Erzurum would still need
approximately 3,650 tons (100,000 kile or 8,046,872 pounds21 – worth of 20,000 liras) of
wheat until the next harvest. There was, however, not enough grain left in the province.
20 PMOA, DH.MKT 2014/117, 4 Rebiyülâhır 1310 (26 October 1892); PMOA, BEO 114/8500, 10
Cemaziyülevvel 1310 (30 November 1892)
21 The equivalent of ton/kile in pounds will be provided only when a new amount will be mentioned
throughout this section. If not otherwise noted, all the numbers in ton were mentioned in terms of kile in the
original documents.
305
In other words, even if the bank lent money to the municipality, there was no grain to
buy. The current year’s harvest was not enough to feed even the soldiers.22
Therefore, the neighboring provinces and sub-provinces were asked to send 3,650
tons of wheat to Erzurum before snowfall blocked the roads in winter. Otherwise, many
people were expected to die from starvation. Even though the provincial government of
Erzurum blamed the recent drought for the shortage of food, the Ministry of Interior
requested an investigation to compare the harvest of 1892 with those of the previous
years so as to make sure that the problem really derived from environmental conditions.23
About a month later, the Ministry of Interior explained that delivering 3,650 tons
of wheat from Trabzon, Sivas, and Harput provinces to Erzurum would be too expensive.
Therefore, the Ministry asked the governor of Erzurum if it was possible to obtain grain
from Mus, Bitlis, and Erzincan sub-provinces or possibly from Russia. The provincial
government responded that Bitlis and Erzincan sub-provinces did not have enough grain
either. Moreover, Mus also suffered from drought and therefore, grain exports from this
province had already been suspended. It was also impossible to buy grain from Russia,
but the document does not provide any reason as to why this was the case. Therefore, the
provincial government once more requested the delivery of wheat from Sivas.
Alternatively, Istanbul and other cities on the Black Sea coast could send wheat to
Trabzon, from where it would be delivered to Erzurum via the Trabzon-Erzurum road.
22 PMOA, DH.MKT 2014/117, 4 Rebiyülâhır 1310 (26 October 1892); PMOA, BEO 114/8500, 10
Cemaziyülevvel 1310 (30 November 1892)
23 Ibid.
306
The governor also reminded the Ministry that there was only one month left until the
arrival of harsh winter weather conditions when roads would be completely blocked.24
Seven days after the governor’s letter to the Ministry, Istanbul government
decided to send officials to the towns and villages in Erzurum so that they could pull
together all the grain left in households. Since the provincial government in Erzurum did
not have enough money, the provincial treasury in Trabzon was asked to pay for the cost
of these officials’ employment, which amounted to 5,590 liras. Meanwhile, Istanbul
government announced the results of the investigation which the Ministry of Interior had
launched a month ago. According to the report, the yield of the current year’s harvest was
only half of the previous years’ amounts.25
In January 1893, there was still enough food in Erzurum to last until the end of
March. From the beginning of April until the harvest in August however, there was need
to export 730 tons (20,000 kile – 1,609,374 pounds) of grain from other provinces. Given
the road conditions in winter, it was going to be too difficult to transport food supplies to
Erzurum until the end of April. Moreover, an extra 1,460 tons (40,000 kile – 3,218,749
pounds) of wheat and 1,752 tons (48,000 kile – 3,862,498 pounds) of barley were needed
for the sustenance of soldiers.26
At this critical juncture, prices of wheat were announced in the capital city
Istanbul, Trabzon province, and Samsun district: 43 para for one kıyye (1.3 kilograms or
24 PMOA, DH.MKT 2022/82, 29 Rebiyülahır 1310 (20 November 1892)
25 PMOA, MV 72/45, 7 Cemaziyülevvel 1310 (27 November 1892); PMOA, BEO 114/8500, 10
Cemaziyülevvel 1310 (30 November 1892)
26 PMOA, BEO 114/8500, 10 Cemaziyülevvel 1310 (30 November 1892); PMOA, DH.MKT 2040/15, 18
Cemaziyülahır 1310 (7 January 1893)
307
2.8 pounds) of soft seeds (tohumluk yumusak bugday), 53 para for hard seeds (tohumluk
sert bugday), 36 para for soft culinary wheat (yemeklik yumusak bugday), and 39 para
for hard culinary wheat (yemeklik sert bugday). Nobody applied to buy grain and deliver
it to Erzurum at these prices. The provincial government in Trabzon considered
increasing the prices even more, but in this case, the delivery of one kile of wheat to
Erzurum would rise up to fifty piasters –including the cost of shipment by boat,
packaging, and the fees for pack animals.27
Meanwhile, merchants in Bayburt already owned 5,840 tons (160,000 kile –
12,874,996 pounds) of grain. If the provincial treasury in Trabzon bought grain from
merchants in Bayburt, the cost would be much less (only thirty-four piasters for one kile)
and the transportation of grain from Bayburt to Erzurum would be much easier.
Therefore, the provincial government in Erzurum expressed its preference for the
delivery of grain from Bayburt.28 One day later, Istanbul temporarily suspended
discussions on this issue and ordered Erzurum to wait until March and to decide what to
do if the stockpiled grain ran out by then.29
In April, it was this time Bayburt that needed 730 tons of wheat seeds and 365
tons (10,000 kile - 804,687 pounds) of barley seeds. Istanbul government ordered local
officials in Bayburt to buy these from Trabzon, Karahisar-ı Sarki, and Rize before the end
of April. The provincial government in Trabzon replied that Trabzon and Samsun
districts could not supply the requested amounts. Only Merzifon had enough stocks, but it
27 Ibid.
28 Ibid.
29 PMOA, MV 73/29, 19 Cemaziyülâhır 1310 (8 January 1893)
308
was impossible to deliver that much grain from Merzifon to Bayburt in just a week.
Moreover, the delivery was too expensive: forty-five piasters for one kile. As a result, the
Ministry of Interior suggested that Istanbul government itself should buy and send the
grain to Bayburt. In the end, central authorities decided that Samsun should provide the
grain because of the urgency of the situation. In addition, both Trabzon and Bayburt
districts were expected to send pack animals to Samsun in order to facilitate the
transportation of the grain. As for the residents of Bayburt who were in desperate need of
food, they could also help the authorities by lending their carts.30 Based on this decision
by central authorities in Istanbul, the governor of Trabzon asked Mustafa Bey, the
governor of Canik sub-province, to send the necessary amount of wheat and barley.
Mustafa Bey replied that Samsun did not have such large quantities of grain. Moreover,
the interior districts of Canik could send the seeds only at the end of May when it would
be too late to sow them in Bayburt.31
In December 1893, Erzurum demanded 1,095 tons (30,000 kile – 2,414,061
pounds) of wheat and 365 tons of barley from Trabzon. Meanwhile, the Ministry of
Finance was aware of the fact that profiteers had stored a great amount of grain. The
Ministry wanted the profiteers to sell the grain at a reasonable price. Haydar Bey, the
governor of Erzurum, responded that the agricultural production of the province had
declined by thirty percent because of drought. Therefore, the governor protected the
profiteers by stating that the amount of grain they stored could not have been too much.32
30 PMOA, MV 74/76, 6 Sevval 1310 (23 April 1893)
31 PMOA, DH.MKT 2062/12, 10 Sevval 1310 (27 April 1893)
32 PMOA, BEO 323/24224, 28 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (7 December 1893)
309
Meanwhile, Erzurum needed almost 18,250 tons (500,000 kile – 40,234,362
pounds) of grain. The 2,555 tons (70,000 kile – 5,632,810 pounds) that Istanbul had
planned to send to Erzurum was not enough to feed the people. Under these dire
circumstances, it was obvious that the province would face further problems in the future
because there was a lack of seeds. Therefore, Erzurum urgently needed at least 9,125 tons
(250,000 kile – 20,117,181 pounds) of grain.33 In late 1893, the provincial government in
Erzurum requested grain from Iran as well. Istanbul replied that the harvest of 1893 was
abundant compared to previous years. Therefore, they decided to send an inspector to
Erzurum to observe whether the province really needed to export grain from other
provinces and countries.34
Inspector Ethem Effendi, a member of the Board of Finance (Meclis-i Maliye),
asserted that Erzurum was in desperate need of grain. Trabzon had already started
sending 2,190 tons (60,000 kile – 4,828,122 pounds) of wheat and 365 tons of barley to
Erzurum via the Trabzon-Erzurum road. Ethem Effendi thought that these amounts would
not satisfy the needs of Erzurum because 2,190 tons of wheat was only half of what was
needed. They also needed another 547.5 tons (15,000 kile – 1,207,030 pounds) of
barley.35 The cost of buying such large quantities of grain was fifty thousand liras.
Therefore, Ethem Effendi demanded that the transportation of wheat and barley be free.
He also stated that fifty thousand liras could be paid back in installments once the
residents of Erzurum purchased the grain (muhtaç olanlara satıldıkça bedelatı istihsal
33 Ibid.
34 PMOA, MV 76/103, 1 Rebiyülâhır 1311 (12 October 1893)
35 PMOA, MV 78/38, 7 Recep 1311 (14 January 1894)
310
olunmak üzere).36 Moreover, it was not only the region around Erzurum that needed food
supplies. Gümüshane sub-province needed 474.5 tons (13,000 kile – 1,046,093 pounds)
of culinary Egyptian wheat (yemeklik Mısır bugdayı) and 620.5 tons (17,000 kile –
1,367,968 pounds) of Samsun barly seeds (tohumluk Samsun arpası).37
The Ministry of Finance responded that paying in installments would be a burden
on the treasury. Moreover, Erzurum urgently needed 1,460 tons of grain for next month.
If authorities failed to distribute grain among the needy for free (iane suretiyle)
immediately, many people would die. Pasinler was one of the places where the situation
was dire. There were 146 tons (4,000 kile - 321,874 pounds) of wheat in the village’s
storehouse for the subsistence of soldiers. The governor of Erzurum asked for permission
to allocate this stored wheat to the villagers of Pasinler. The wheat that was sent from
Trabzon could later be used to replace this allocation.38
In its reply, the provincial government in Trabzon explained that the delivery of
the 1,460 tons of grain would take more than six months. The transportation of the
additional amount that Ethem Effendi demanded (1,095 tons) could take even longer.
Even if Erzurum sent camels to Trabzon so as to help the transfer of food supplies,
weather conditions would not allow speeding up the process because only the muleteers
were able to transport goods along the road during the winter.39 The Sublime Porte,
36 Ibid.
37 PMOA, Y.PRK.A 9/21, 20 Recep 1311 (27 January 1894)
38 PMOA, MV 78/38, 7 Recep 1311 (14 January 1894)
39 Ibid.; PMOA, BEO 339/25376, 3 Recep 1311 (10 January 1894)
311
however, wanted all of the grain (2,555 tons) to arrive in Erzurum by February 15th
1894!40
The grain could reach only as far as Bayburt by this date if the residents of
Bayburt lent all of their load animals to Trabzon. After this date, sleighs41 (kızak) could
transport the grain from Bayburt to Erzurum for a cost of approximately 4,000 liras. The
provincial treasury of Trabzon could not pay for this expenditure because of its limited
budget. In addition, the dispatch of 1,460 tons of grain to be distributed for free among
the needy was also impossible. Therefore, Istanbul government told Erzurum to
economize its resources. Moreover, Istanbul also decided to investigate whether the
distribution of the grain in Pasinler’s storehouse would endanger the provisioning of
soldiers.42
The provincial government in Erzurum responded that the famine was too severe
in the town; therefore, the Sublime Porte authorized the distribution of 36.5 tons (1,000
kile – 80,468 pounds) of grain to the people of Pasinler.43 Three days later, Trabzon sent
547.5 tons of grain to Erzurum. Overall, out of 756 tons (590,000 kıyye - 1,666,694
40 PMOA, BEO 344/25775, 8 Recep 1311 (15 January 1894)
41 Having recourse to the help of sleighs during the winter was not uncommon. Alexander MacDonald who
traveled along the road in 1891, only a year before drought and famine hit Erzurum, leased sleighs as a
means of transportation. MacDonald, 73.
42 PMOA, MV 78/38, 7 Recep 1311 (14 January 1894); PMOA, BEO 344/25776, 8 Recep 1311 (15
January 1894)
43 PMOA, BEO 346/25899, 10 Recep 1311 (17 January 1894); PMOA, BEO 346/25902, 10 Recep 1311
(17 January 1894); PMOA, BEO 346/25903 10 Recep 1311 (17 January 1894)
312
pounds) of wheat that Erzurum demanded, the province had received only 153 tons
(120,000 kıyye - 337,307 pounds) by mid-January 1894.44
This case provides a good opportunity to examine whether the famine of 1892-
1894 was a result of extreme climatic conditions only or if it was also related to some
other, “un-natural” factors. In other words, was the famine a man-made or natural
disaster? Istanbul government’s statement that the harvest of 1893 was actually better
than the previous year’s provides us with a hint and a starting point to elaborate on this
matter. Contrary to this statement, Inspector Ethem Effendi reported that Erzurum was in
desperate need for food supplies. The discrepancy between these two statements can only
be explained with the following possibility: the grain in Erzurum had already been sold to
merchants.
During the nineteenth century, the tonnage of ships that passed through the
Trabzon port witnessed a gradual increase from 22,000 tons on 131 ships in 1837 to
530,000 tons on 517 ships in 1890. By 1900, merchants were complaining that the port
was not big enough. At the same time however, there was a gradual decrease in the
volume of the Iranian transit trade that passed through the Ottoman territories, as
discussed in the previous chapter. Accordingly, transit trade constituted two fifths of all
the Iranian trade in 1850; but the equivalent number was less than one tenth in 1900.45
This sharp discrepancy in numbers suggests a possible aggregation in local trade. In other
44 PMOA, BEO 346/25882, 11 Recep 1311 (18 January 1894)
45 Rahmi Çiçek, "Osmanlı'dan Cumhuriyet'e Trabzon-Tebriz Yolu," in Ciepo Uluslararası Osmanlı Öncesi
ve Osmanlı Tarihi Arastırmaları 6. Ara Dönem Sempozyum Bildirileri, ed. Adnan Sisman, Tuncer Baykara,
and Mehmet Karayaman (Usak: Usak Hli Kalkınma Vakfı, 2011), 434-35.
313
words, the decrease in the volume of transit trade was compensated by an increase in the
export of domestically produced goods at the turn of the twentieth century.46
Similarly, Kütükoglu observes that the Anatolian exports made up seventy percent
of all merchandise that was exported through the harbor in Trabzon in 1898, while the
transit trade merchandise constituted only thirty percent of Trabzon harbor’s exports in
the same year.47 Turgay reaches a similar conclusion when he calculates the average
volume of exports from the harbor in Trabzon during the last three years of the nineteenth
century. Based on his calculations, the export of regional products constituted 70.9 % of
all the exports from the harbor in Trabzon during these three years whereas that of the
Iranian transit goods remained at only 29.1 %.48 Thus, even though the Iranian transit
trade declined through the course of the nineteenth century, this did not cause a total
abandonment of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. On the contrary, at the turn of the twentieth
century, this route was used more frequently for domestic trade.
The fact that Bayburt possessed 5,840 tons of grain in January 1893, but needed
730 tons of wheat seeds and 365 tons of barley seeds only a couple of months later –as
mentioned above- also proves the existence of a local market economy. During the few
46 Clay gives similar numbers: The volume of shipping in the port of Trabzon was on average 15,225 tons
per year in the 1830s, 61,664 tons in the 1850s, 177,861 tons in the 1870s, and 483,732 tons in the 1890s.
Clay, 7.
47 Mübahat S. Kütükoglu, "XIX. Yüzyılda Trabzon Ticareti," in Birinci Tarih Boyunca Karadeniz Kongresi
Bildirileri, 13-17 Ekim 1986, ed. Mehmet Saglam, et al. (Samsun: Ondokuz Mayıs Üniversitesi Egitim
Fakültesi, 1988), 105. Moreover, the exports of Trabzon harbor were destined to other Ottoman ports rather
than foreign markets. In 1877, 65.6 percent of all exports (including Iranian products) and 42.8 percent of
Anatolian exports (excluding Iranian products) targeted domestic markets whereas the respective numbers
increased to 69 and 65.3 percent in 1889. Ibid. In this respect, Trabzon served the domestic trade more than
the international market and therefore differed from other Ottoman port cities.
48 Turgay, 63. A similar ratio was also true for the volume of imports. Merchandise destined to regional
markets constituted 62 % of all the import goods through Trabzon port in 1898, 63.1 % in 1899, and 69.4
% in 1900. Ibid.
314
months that passed in between, all of the grain produced in the region left the city to be
sold in other markets. The role of the Trabzon-Erzurum road was filled with irony in this
context. The road served as a very efficient means for merchants to sell their
commodities on the market; yet when the Ottoman state needed to send food supplies
back to Erzurum from nearby towns during the famine, the road did not help to alleviate
people’s needs, as there was no grain to be sent to Erzurum in the first place.
Finally by February 1894, almost 76.7 tons (2,102 kile – 169,094 pounds) of
wheat had already arrived from Trabzon to Erzurum. There were also 73 tons (2,000 kile
– 160,937 pounds) of wheat which had recently arrived in Bayburt and some of this
amount was on its way to Erzurum. For the delivery of the rest of the grain, the provincial
government in Erzurum would be sending sleighs and load animals to Bayburt soon.
There were, however, only one thousand liras left in the municipal and provincial
treasuries in Erzurum, which would not cover the transportation of the sleighs and loaded
animals to Bayburt.49
In addition, Istanbul had sent 1,095 tons of grain, of which 146 tons had already
arrived in Erzurum. 365 tons were on the way between Trabzon and Erzurum. Trabzon
provincial government promised to transfer the rest in the next 20-25 days. Istanbul was
also organizing a second dispatch of grain, this time 1,460 tons.50 Out of a total of 1,906
tons (1,486,000 kıyye - 4,220,010 pounds) of grain that Istanbul sent to Erzurum, the city
had already received 1,576 tons (1,229,000 kıyye - 3,474,485 pounds) by June 1894.
49 PMOA, Y.MTV 90/3, 2 Saban 1311 (8 February 1894)
50 Ibid.
315
Gümüshane also received 577 tons (450,000 kıyye - 1,272,067 pounds) of barley and 256
tons (200,000 kıyye - 564,383 pounds) of corn.51
Meanwhile, unrest among the population was growing. O’Grada identifies three
major indicators of famine: rising grain prices, migration, and increased rates of crime.52
During 1892-1894, all these three criteria were present in Erzurum.53 As mentioned
above, there were concerns about skyrocketing prices and the next section will examine
the issue of migration while the rest of this section will focus on increased crime rates.
The events that unfolded in Karakilise and Pasinler hint at increasing tension in these two
towns and a consequent rise in violence and crime. First among the ones who engaged in
active opposition to the government’s policies were the residents of Karakilise who
looted the storehouses of the merchants. Colonel (Miralay) Osman Bey accused the
Commander of Borderlands (Hudut Kumandanı) Rahmi Pasha of encouraging the people
to overtly resist the government. As a result of this accusation, Haydar Bey, the governor
of Erzurum, ordered Brigadier General Hakkı Pasha in Bayezid to investigate the
situation.54
In the meantime, the provincial government claimed that the number of people
who sacked the storehouses was only a hundred and suggested that the event was related
to a personal disagreement between Rahmi Pasha and Osman Bey (isin izam edilmesi
51 PMOA, BEO 414/30997, 29 Zilkade 1311 (3 June 1894)
52 Cormac O’Grada, Famine: A Short History (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009), 4.
53 For black-marketeering see Abdülkadir Gül, "Osmanlı Devleti'nde Kuraklık ve Kıtlık (Erzurum Vilayeti
Örnegi: 1892-1893 ve 1906-1908 Yılları)," Uluslararası Sosyal Arastırmalar Dergisi 2, no. 9 (2009): 154.
54 PMOA, BEO 320/23974, 23 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (2 December 1893)
316
hudut kumandanı Rahmi Pasa ile miralay Osman Bey’in beynlerindeki münakereden
neset eyledigi).55 It was easier for authorities to identify this event only as a clash of two
different personalities rather than as a social protest which had deep roots in a general
discontent among the populace. Personalizing the problem would also help them explain
the “peculiar” behavior of a high ranking military officer who sided with the protestors.
As will be discussed in Chapter Seven however, this was not the only case in which
Rahmi Pasha would support the people against other state officials.
Factors, which to a great extent deteriorated the living standards of the town’s
residents show that there were real social causes behind the unrest (rather than a simple
personal disagreement as the provincial government of Erzurum suggested). Like
Eleskirt, Karakilise suffered from a serious epidemic at the time. Thirty-three people had
died by January 1894. Medical reports revealed that the cause of deaths was not the
cholera epidemic. Instead, people had died because they had eaten rotten food supplies –
including dead animals- in order to survive. Under these circumstances, people living
close to the border considered emigration to Russia unless the battalion near the border
provided them with food supplies.56
A similar event took place in Pasinler only a month later. In late January 1894, a
few people had already died in Hınıs and Pasinler; but conditions were worse in the latter.
Hınıs and Bayezid already had some grain reserved for emergencies, although the
residents of these two districts were too poor to buy grain even for very cheap prices.
Besides, food prices had been skyrocketing because of the famine. Pasinler, however,
55 PMOA, BEO 330/24686, 10 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (19 November 1893)
56 PMOA, BEO 337/25275, 25 Cemaziyülahır 1311 (3 January 1894)
317
lacked any food supplies –regardless of the purchasing power of its residents- and
urgently needed 365 tons of grain in order to feed its population of twenty thousand for
the following three months until the snow lifted in May.57 Under these circumstances,
people started raiding the marketplace and looting the bread in the bakeries. Therefore,
authorities reported that they urgently needed to protect the grain stored in the
warehouses.58
In the meantime, although the residents of Pasinler lacked any food supplies, the
state ordered the delivery of the grain stocked in the village’s storehouse to the soldiers in
Erzurum. This decision resulted in the outbreak of an insurgency. On February 14th 1894,
the Commander of the Twenty-Second Cavalry Regiment (Süvari Yirmi 'kinci
Miralaylıgı) came to the storehouse to organize the transportation of the grain to
Erzurum. Meanwhile, about five hundred people gathered outside the storehouse and
started attacking soldiers. The insurgents used axes to break the doors of the warehouse
and plundered the grain.59
The commander had no choice but to delay the delivery of the grain. He
immediately sent a telegraph to the governor in Erzurum and to the Fourth Cavalry
Division (Dördüncü Süvari Fırka Kumandanlıgı) in Mus. In turn, the Commander of the
Division Ferik Ethem Pasha sent a telegram to Rıza Pasha, the Minister of War. Ferik
Ethem Pasha accused the governor of Erzurum of negligence because he knew that
people were dying in Pasinler from starvation. Meanwhile, the unrest in Pasinler had
57 PMOA, Y.MTV 90/3, 2 Saban 1311 (8 February 1894)
58 PMOA, BEO 346/25882, 11 Recep 1311 (18 January 1894)
59 PMOA, Y.PRK.ASK 97/6, 10 Saban 1311 (16 February 1894)
318
escalated and it was now impossible to pacify the insurgents. If the provincial
government did not provide the people with the necessary provisions immediately, a new
insurrection in the near future was inevitable.60
One interesting point that begs explanation is why the Commander of the Twenty-
Second Cavalry Regiment did not use violence against the rebels to suppress the uprising
in Pasinler. A second interesting point is Ferik Ethem Pasha’s choice of words. He
blamed the provincial government and not the insurgents for the events, even though his
soldiers were attacked by the rebels. Officers would react in a similar fashion almost ten
years later in Erzurum. During the 1906-1907 period, most of the military commanders
refrained from suppressing popular revolts which opposed the imposition of new taxes.61
As a solution to the crisis, the Sublime Porte wanted to cancel the delivery of
grain from Pasinler to the soldiers in Erzurum and instead distribute the grain to the
residents of the town. In return, Erzurum’s military warehouse could detain the grain sent
from Trabzon to Pasinler in order to avoid double transportation costs. The Fourth Army
rejected this suggestion because leaving the soldiers in Erzurum without any food
supplies until the grain from Trabzon arrived in the city would create a serious problem.62
60 Ibid.
61 See Aykut Kansu, "1906-1907 Vergi Ayaklanmaları: 1908 Devrimi'ne Giris," in 1908 Devrimi (Istanbul:
Hletisim, 2002). The support of some military officers to protesters seems to be more than a mere
coincidence. In 1908, for example, reserve soldiers in Samsun gave support to the tobacco workers who
went on strike in order to increase their wages. Nacar, 157. Similarly, Kayalı highlights the political
rivalries between civil and military officials in the Arab provinces in the early twentieth century. According
to Kayalı, while civil authorities, especially governors, preferred establishing political alliances with local
notables, officers usually chose to defend the rights of the commoners. Kayalı, 57.
62 PMOA, BEO 361/27022, 11 Saban 1311 (17 February 1894); PMOA, BEO 366/27401, 16 Saban 1311
(22 February 1894)
319
In the end, to alleviate the public, the Fourth Army agreed to distribute 36.5 tons of grain
to the people under the condition that this amount would be replaced by March 1894.63
The Commander of the Fourth Army Zeki Pasha was to make sure that only 36.5
tons were given to the residents of Pasinler, even though the town needed 365 tons of
grain until next March. The provincial government in Erzurum could not guarantee to
replace all of the grain if it was totally distributed to the residents of Pasinler. Another
plan was to give away an additional 73 tons of wheat and substitute it later with 80.3 tons
(2,200 kile – 177,031 pounds) of wheat coming from Trabzon. However, the provincial
government in Trabzon warned that this wheat could not be used as seeds.64
Zeki Pasha was also suspicious of the delivery of grain which was scheduled for
next March. He was afraid that the soldiers would face hunger because he did not expect
the grain to arrive in Erzurum on time. Pasinler was only 5-6 hours away from Erzurum.
Therefore, he suggested that the government oblige the residents of Pasinler to carry the
grain from Erzurum on their own and for free. This solution would also help avoid paying
double costs for transportation. In the end, the Ministry of War decided not to give any
grain from the warehouse to the peoples of Pasinler.65
In the meantime, the Fourth Army announced that it would give 36.5 tons to the
peoples of Pasinler only if they promised to pay for it later.66 Initially, the Sublime Porte
had asked the residents of Pasinler who owned land and real estate to give collateral their
63 PMOA, BEO 366/27401, 16 Saban 1311 (22 February 1894)
64 Ibid.
65 Ibid.
66 PMOA, BEO 370/27738, 30 Saban 1311 (7 March 1894)
320
properties in return for grain distribution. Most of the residents of the town, however, did
not possess anything. Moreover, those who owned a small piece of land or any other kind
of real estate were hesitant to mortgage their possessions. Even if they were not reluctant,
there was no one in the town who could give them grain in return for their trusts.67
Therefore, the residents of Pasinler once more raised their voices against the
government. In response, the Sublime Porte changed its original policy and expected the
people to find only one guarantor and sign a deposit slip (senet) in return for grain
distribution.68 When it became clear that the people could not find guarantors either,
Istanbul only asked them to present a deposit slip with which they promised to give the
state the same amount of grain following the next harvest.69
In the meantime, Istanbul also wanted to send 4,562 tons (125,000 kile –
10,057,488 pounds) of wheat and 3,650 tons of barley to Erzurum and sell it there to the
needy people without any profit. The people in Pasinler did not have any cash and
therefore wanted the distribution of grain to be free. Istanbul government decided that it
could give only 2,555 tons of grain for free. Meanwhile, in order to prevent any further
deaths, there was an urgent need for at least 1,460 tons of grain which cost a total of
20,000 liras including the transportation costs.70
In April 1894, Pasinler and other districts on the Erzurum Plain still needed at
least 1,277 tons (35,000 kile – 2,816,405 pounds) of wheat and barley to plant. Out of the
67 Ibid.; PMOA, BEO 375/28055, 8 Ramazan 1311 (15 March 1894)
68 Ibid.
69 PMOA, BEO 370/27738, 30 Saban 1311 (7 March 1894)
70 Ibid.
321
2,555 tons of wheat that Istanbul and Adapazarı sent to the region, 547.5 tons were for
tilling and the rest for immediate distribution to the starving population. Even though the
bread cooked using this grain was much more nutritious and bigger than local bread, the
seeds, which came from Istanbul and Adapazarı, were unfortunately not suitable for
farming in Pasinler and the broader Erzurum region because of problems in
acclimatization. Therefore, the seeds sent from Istanbul and Adapazarı should be
exchanged with the seeds in the military warehouse in Pasinler. Yet this solution was also
too expensive because one kile of the imported grain was fifty-seven piasters whereas the
equivalent local price was only forty-eight piasters at the moment. Authorities expected
the local price to go down to twenty-five piasters in the near future. Under these
circumstances, no one would buy the imported grain for such high prices. As an
alternative, the Agricultural Bank could sell 730 tons of grain to the peoples of Pasinler.
There were, however, concerns about the price of grain again. Since prices had
skyrocketed in 1894, local authorities decided to set a new price based on the average of
the last five years, excluding 1894. They were also aware of profiteers who tried to take
advantage of desperate people. Meanwhile, officials also considered importing grain from
Karaurgan in Russia without the imposition of customs taxes until the end of next June.71
Overall, the results of the famine and the subsequent cholera epidemic were
devastating for Erzurum.72 The situation was so bad that seventy-five percent of the
71 PMOA, BEO 385/28835, 5 Sevval 1311 (11 April 1894)
72 For more information on the cholera epidemic see Nedim Hpek, "Trabzon'da Kolera (1892-1895)," in
Trabzon ve Çevresi: Uluslararası Tarih-Dil-Edebiyat Sempozyumu, 3-5 Mayıs 2001, ed. Mithat Kerim
Arslan and Hikmet Öksüz (Trabzon: Türkiye Cumhuriyeti Trabzon Valiligi Hl Kültür Müdürlügü Yayınları,
2002).
322
population was unable to pay the road tax in order to be exempt from forced labor in
1894. Therefore, the provincial assembly decided to postpone the collection of the road
tax from the poor segments of the society. The Tanzimat Department of the Council of
State (Sura-yı Devlet Tanzimat Dairesi) approved this decision, but also added that the
rest (one fourth) of the population who were members of wealthier families should pay
the road tax without any further delays. The Department also postponed the collection of
the road tax from Çarsancak and Çemisgezek districts of Mamüretülaziz province which
were supposed to finance the repair of the Trabzon-Erzurum road.73
A Social Response to Famine: Migration
The 1892-1894 famine led to many social and environmental problems, including
increasing crime rates (especially in cases of burglary for edible animals like sheep and
goat) and the extinction of certain species.74 Another consequence of the famine –one
directly related to the subject matter of this dissertation- was the migration of people
away from the affected regions. Faced with famine, many people chose to go to nearby
places in order to escape hunger and find food. Coastal areas near Trabzon which had
easy access to food supplies were especially the favorite destination of migrants.
Recently, a new paradigm has started emphasizing the opportunity that disasters
present to policy makers in order to implement long-term and large-scale social projects.
According to this approach, disasters turn the physical landscape into a tabula rasa, thus
73 PMOA, BEO 369/27652, 27 Saban 1311 (5 March 1894); PMOA, BEO 407/30457, 17 Zilkade 1311 (22
May 1894); PMOA, DH.MKT 242/57, 24 Zilkade 1311 (29 May 1894)
74 See Yunus Özger, "XIX. Yüzyıl Sonlarında Meydana Gelen Bir Kuraklık ve Kıtlık Hadisesi ile Bunun
Sosyo-Ekonomik Sonuçları," Karadeniz Arastırmaları Dergisi, no. 19 (2008).
323
making it possible for politicians to enact policies that drastically change the social
landscape. A good example would be the “toppling down” of the public housing and
schooling systems in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina in 2004 or the “cleansing out”
of the poor fishing families from the Sri Lankan coastline after the 2004 Tsunami and
their replacement by big hotel chains –two long-term neoliberal policies which could not
have been previously implemented because of social protest.75 Zachariadou follows a
similar line of thought when she analyzes the role of the 1354 earthquake in facilitating
the Ottoman Empire’s territorial advancement in Thrace and the Balkans.76
While this approach emphasizes the reinforcement of social inequalities in the
aftermath of catastrophes and the flexibility of states to take advantage of unpredictable
events, it is also important to remember disasters as a social phenomenon that provide
opportunities to their victims. Thus, while the Ottoman state faced difficulties in dealing
with the problems posed by the 1892-1894 famine, many residents of the affected regions
saw the famine as an opportunity to mobilize and move to other parts of the empire.
In the late Ottoman world, there were two basic patterns of migration (except
emigration). The first type was the intra-regional movements of people as an ad hoc
solution to crises such as famine. For instance, residents of northeastern Anatolia
migrated to coastal cities such as Trabzon which had a better chance of getting food
supplies in case of emergencies. This regional migration allows us to view roads from a
different perspective. Theoretically and ideally, roads were supposed to be an efficient
75 Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism (New York: Metropolitan Books,
2007).
76 Elizabeth Zachariadou, "Dogal Afetler: Fırsat Anları," in Osmanlı 'mparatorlugu'nda Dogal Afetler, ed.
Elizabeth Zachariadou (Istanbul: Tarih Vakfı Yurt Yayınları, 2001).
324
means of reaching the frontiers. Yet, they provided mobility not only to state agents but
to other social actors as well. At times, it could be even easier for people to move from
one place to another than for the state to send food supplies to interior regions. The cases
analyzed in the previous section of this chapter are good examples of the paradoxical
nature of road transportation.
The second type of migration followed a more general pattern based on structural
causes: the movement of people from Erzurum and other interior provinces to the capital
city Istanbul to find jobs. This type of migration was of more concern to the central state
because it had the disadvantage of permanently increasing the number and visibility of
vagabonds and beggars in the streets of Istanbul, thus casting a shadow upon the
legitimacy of the newly emerging modern state. Most of those who migrated to the
capital were from lower classes and once they had failed to find employment, they turned
to beggary as a means of survival. In response, Istanbul wanted to regulate the movement
of its subjects throughout the empire.77 If the central government could not prevent their
arrival in the capital city in the first instance, Istanbul’s solution was to send the migrants
back to their homes. In some cases, the state also employed these migrants to work in
road-building and other public works projects in and around their hometowns.78
77 See Musa Çadırcı, "Tanzimat Döneminde Çıkarılan Men'-I Mürur ve Pasaport Nizamnameleri," Belgeler
15, no. 19 (1993).
78 This point highlights the different methods employed by the Ottoman state to deal with beggars in the
nineteenth century, which were much different from the methods used earlier. The migration of the poor to
Istanbul was not a new phenomenon in the late nineteenth century. However, while the state either totally
ignored or practiced corporal punishment measures on beggars and vagabonds before the nineteenth
century (depending on whether they were labeled under the category of “deserving” or “undeserving”
beggars and vagabonds), there was a shift to a more disciplinary and rehabilitative policy in the 1800s. In
other words, employing beggars and vagabonds in public works such as road-building projects was a means
of reforming their idle souls and providing them with a work ethics in a Foucauldian sense. For further
information see Nadir Özbek, "Hkinci Mesrutiyet Hstanbul’unda Serseriler ve Dilenciler," Toplumsal Tarih
325
In spite of all the efforts, some of the migrants had a chance to settle in Istanbul
and influenced the construction of new roads in the Ottoman Empire in another way. For
example, in 1923, amidst the turmoil of the empire’s collapse, a labor organization was
formed in Istanbul. The Organization of Construction and Road Workers and Seasonal
and Hired Labor (Umum 'nsaat ve Tarik ve Irgat ve Rençber Amelesi Cemiyeti) wanted to
protect the rights of workers, provide for their professional education, and improve their
socio-economic status. The headquarters of the organization was in the Sükrü Ahmed
Pasha Mansion, located on Muradiye Street in Mercan (a district between Beyazıt and
Eminönü). Most of the founding members of the organization were migrants from
Bayburt.79
This case proves that roads were not only a governmental tool in the hands of the
state, but indirectly provided a venue for people to transform the social life of the late
Ottoman world. Initially, authorities imagined roads to be a mechanism of social order
and control, but in time they served other, more subversive functions. First and foremost,
roads did not provide a one-way trip from the center to the frontiers. While they certainly
improved the ability of the central government to infiltrate into the local life of the
provinces, the population of these provinces also used the same social space to travel
away from their immediate localities.
11, no. 64 (1999); ———, The Politics of Welfare: Philanthropy, Voluntarism and Legitimacy in the
Ottoman Empire, 1876-1914 (Unpublished Dissertation, State University of New York at Binghamton,
2001); ———, "Osmanlı Hmparatorlugu'nda Dilencilere Yönelik Devlet Politikaları ve Kamusal Söylemin
Degisimi," in Bir Kent Sorunu Dilencilik: Sorunlar ve Çözüm Yolları (Istanbul: Istanbul Büyüksehir
Belediyesi Zabıta Daire Baskanlıgı, 2009); ———, "'Beggars' and 'Vagrants' in State Policy and Public
Discourse During the Late Ottoman Empire: 1876-1914," Middle Eastern Studies 45, no. 5 (2009).
79 PMOA, HR.IM 17/83, 18 March 1923
326
Hence, roads did not necessarily enhance the capacity of the center to change the
local, but also generated a venue for the local to impact the center, and provided mobility
not only to state agents but also to other social figures. Moreover, as the case of the
migrants from interior towns to coastal areas suggests, roads could also have an impact
on regional dynamics. In that sense, roads played a role in the depopulation of rural areas
in the second half of the nineteenth century and the overpopulation of cities likes
Istanbul.80 Under these circumstances, the attempts by the central state to prevent
migration to Istanbul were not only indicative of an oppressive state. Certainly, as Kasaba
observes, the Ottoman Empire “was still an empire in motion in many ways”:
All across the empire there were tribes, individual laborers, students, and
merchants –not to mention administrators- who were constantly on the
move. The key difference in the nineteenth century was that now they were
faced with a burgeoning state that was keenly interested in their
movements.81
However, it is also important to keep in mind that the restrictions of this
“burgeoning” state against migration and the freedom of movement were highly
dependent on the socio-economic and ethnic background of the people who were on the
80 In fact, the loss of rural autonomy and the absorption of rural areas by urban centers dated back to the
changes in earlier centuries. Accordingly, the integration of rural and urban economies within a regional
framework was related to a number of factors, such as the demise of the tımar system and the expansion of
tax-farming. In this respect, this dissertation does not intend to claim that the improvement in the road
network in the nineteenth century started this process. On the contrary, it only aims to show that new road
constructions added a new dimension to this already existing process. As a matter of fact, a number of
historians who work within the framework of provincial history paradigm make this phenomenon (in other
words, the loss of rural autonomy within a regional (and later, imperial) market which was dominated by
urban centers) an indispensable part of their analysis which studies the changes observed in the socioeconomic
structure of the empire. See Khoury, State and Provincial Society in the Ottoman Empire;
Doumani, Rediscovering Palestine; Fattah, The Politics of Regional Trade in Iraq, Arabia, and the Gulf;
Salzmann, Tocqueville in the Ottoman Empire. For the argument that better transportation facilities in the
empire and increased employment opportunities in Istanbul increased labor migration in the nineteenth
century, see Clay, 8.
81 Resat Kasaba, A Moveable Empire: Ottoman Nomads, Migrants, and Refugees (Seattle & London:
University of Washington Press, 2009), 106.
327
move. For example, merchants who were legal residents of other provinces possessed
certain privileges to travel to and do business in Istanbul, other provinces, and abroad.
One such privilege directly relevant to land haulage was merchants’ ability to evade
compulsory labor in road-building projects. Even when the state asked merchants to work
in road construction in their hometowns, they could still find substitute workers or assign
contractors on their behalf. These substitute laborers would work in road construction in
place of the absentee merchants or contractors would function like firms and undertake
the responsibility of building certain sections of a road.82 Thus, while the state allowed
and encouraged merchants’ travel with certain privileges, it did not allow other social
groups, especially lower classes, to enjoy the same freedom of mobility.
This is especially important because it draws attention to an ironic aspect of road
haulage. Initially, back in the 1850s, the Ottoman state assumed that the construction of
roads would enhance agriculture and commerce, which would in turn improve the general
welfare of Ottoman subjects. A couple of decades later, roads had not increased welfare,
but in fact spread poverty throughout the empire. In one respect, the state had been
partially successful in its objectives concerning road haulage: roads further
commercialized agriculture, but the beneficiaries of this process were not always the
peasants. Some were still in desperate need for a sustainable income and were looking for
alternative means of income in order to survive. In this context, roads acquired a
subversive function and started serving not only the state’s interests, but also those of its
subjects. An increasing number of people used roads to leave their homes due to poverty,
82 For examples of favoritism towards merchants see PMOA, DH.MKT 1400/62, 24 Cemaziyülevvel 1304
(18 February 1887); PMOA, DH.MKT 1423/6, 5 Ramazan 1304 (28 May 1887); PMOA, DH.MKT
1512/43, 4 Sevval 1305 (14 June 1888); PMOA, DH.MKT 394/23, 15 Muharrem 1313 (8 July 1895)
328
in search of other “prosperous” places where they could find employment. The fact that
the population of Istanbul went up from about 356,000 in 1844 to 910,000 in 1914 (in
other words, nearly tripled) attests to this fact.83
In conclusion, back in the 1850s, one of the major goals of the Ottoman state was
to increase its security with a better road network and make distant provinces more
accessible to the imperial center. The state viewed roads as an instrument to bring safety
to the provinces. However, in practice, roads did not only increase the central state’s
capacity to reach its frontiers, but also that of the Ottoman subjects to “reach out” of their
immediate localities. This process of “reaching out” meant an increase in mobility. Thus,
the state’s concerns about migration and freedom of movement show that road-building
was not necessarily a development that contributed to the security and authority of the
state. While officials were concerned about the free movement of their subjects
throughout the empire, roads at the same time increased individual communication
networks.
Migration of 1892-1894:
By November 1893, people who suffered from famine had already migrated from
Erzurum, Gümüshane, and other surrounding regions to Trabzon. These migrants
consisted of both Muslim and non-Muslim subjects of the empire. While some were
employed as porters and farm workers, and found shelter on the outskirts of the near-by
villages and in forests, there were more than two thousand people in the center of
83 Zafer Toprak, "Tarihsel Nüfusbilim Açısından Hstanbul'un Nüfusu ve Toplumsal Topografyasi," Dünü ve
Bugünüyle Toplum ve Ekonomi, no. 3 (1992): 120. Christopher Clay gives similar numbers. Accordingly,
Istanbul’s population was approximately 400,000 in the 1840s and 800,000 in the 1880s. Clay, 5.
329
Trabzon who were unemployed and did not have any shelter. As new migrants arrived in
the city, the number of the unemployed and the homeless was increasing day by day.84
Moreover, with seasonal change, temperatures were falling and actually there had
already been some casualties. Doctors were worried that disease, especially dysentery
and typhus, could spread not only among the migrants but among the “actual” residents
of Trabzon as well. Hence 1,000 liras were needed per month to construct barracks
outside of the city and to distribute bread daily among the poorest. During the cholera
epidemic of the previous year, wealthy families in Trabzon had already spent a lot of
money on charity. Therefore, the provincial assembly asked the Sublime Porte to provide
1,000 liras every month in order to take care of the needy.85
The Sublime Porte replied that the provincial government should help able men to
find jobs.86 They also agreed to spend 1,000 liras for barracks and bread, but for one time
only and not per month.87 Meanwhile, Yozgat suffered from a similar problem because a
lot of people had migrated from Sivas to this sub-province of Ankara due to food
shortage. The Sublime Porte had advised the local government in Yozgat to prevent the
arrival of the migrants and to settle them in the surrounding villages until next spring.
Otherwise, the conglomeration of too many people in one place would cause
84 PMOA, Y.A.RES 68/9, 13 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (22 November 1893); PMOA, Y.PRK.A 9/21, 20
Recep 1311 (27 January 1894)
85 Ibid.
86 PMOA, BEO 312/2330, 5 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (14 November 1893); PMOA, Y.A.RES 68/9, 13
Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (22 November 1893); PMOA, BEO 315/23602, 13 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (22
November 1893)
87 PMOA, Y.A.RES 68/9, 13 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (22 November 1893); PMOA, BEO 315/23602, 13
Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (22 November 1893); PMOA, BEO 331/24779, 12 Cemaziyülâhır 1311 (21
December 1893)
330
administrative and sanitary problems. The Sublime Porte repeated the same
recommendations in its reply to the provincial government in Trabzon.88
By January 1894, the number of migrants in Trabzon exceeded thirty thousand.
Some of them had already found jobs, while others lived off charity provided by the
wealthy in Trabzon. Despite this, the local government had to feed seven thousand
people. Moreover, the places where migrants spent the night were not sterile. Migrants
also lacked clothing for harsh winter conditions, which led to illness and death. Since
they were not farmers, providing migrants with food supplies such as seeds was not seen
as a solution to their actual problems. On the contrary, this would only exacerbate the
situation by discouraging those who were fit for work. In reality, most of the migrants
had already been in poverty before famine struck their hometowns and their main source
of income was begging. Therefore, instead of farming, these people would sell the seeds
allocated to them for money and come back to Trabzon the following winter. Previous
years’ experiences supported these assumptions.89
Hence instead of short-term solutions like subsidizing migrants with seeds or food
supplies, Istanbul government suggested long-term policy changes like the mandatory
cultivation of maize and barley in untilled fields in Gümüshane, Bayburt, and Tercan.
The government also advised officials to teach the return-migrants in Sivas, Erzurum, and
88 PMOA, Y.A.RES 68/9, 13 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (22 November 1893)
89 PMOA, MV 78/57, 21 Recep 1311 (28 January 1894); PMOA, Y.PRK.A 9/21, 20 Recep 1311 (27
January 1894).
331
Trabzon how to cultivate potato which was much easier to grow compared to barley,
wheat, or maize.90
In the meantime, the Sublime Porte had temporarily settled the migrants in
villages in Trabzon and Lazistan sub-provinces, and also provided the provincial
assembly in Trabzon with the 1,000 liras which it had demanded three months ago.
Women, children, and the weak were the recipients of the money.91 In February, the
Ministry of Interior asked for another 1,000 liras because the migrants had to stay in
Trabzon for the next three months until the winter was over and the roads were accessible
so that they could return to their hometowns.92
Meanwhile, the migration of those in need aroused the interest of the foreign
press. On January 12th 1894, a Berlin newspaper published an article that was based on a
letter sent from Istanbul to its headquarters. The article was about Ottoman subjects who
emigrated to escape starvation. Istanbul asked the governors of Trabzon, Erzurum, Van,
and Bitlis to investigate whether such allegations were true. If they were, the provinces
were asked to report how many people had emigrated, which countries were on the
receiving end, and the proportion of Muslim and non-Muslim subjects among the
90 PMOA, MV 78/57, 21 Recep 1311 (28 January 1894). For further information on the cultivation of
potato in the Black Sea region see, PMOA, BEO 354/26517, 29 Recep 1311 (5 February 1894); PMOA,
I.OM 1/1311-Za-01, 21 Zilkade 1311 (26 May 1894); PMOA, BEO 409/30671, 23 Zilkade 1311 (28 May
1894); PMOA, BEO 536/40143, 19 Cemaziyülahır 1312 (18 December 1894); PMOA, BEO 573/42973,
22 Saban 1312 (18 February 1895); PMOA, BEO 574/42999, 21 Saban 1312 (17 February 1895)
91 PMOA, I.DH 1311/1311.S.24, 14 Saban 1311 (20 February 1894)
92 Ibid.; PMOA, BEO 371/27811, 1 Ramazan 1311 (8 March 1894)
332
emigrants. The provincial governments were also asked to explain why they did not
prevent these people from leaving Ottoman territories.93
In his reply, the governor of Trabzon Mehmet Kadri Bey held the foreign consuls
responsible for providing the foreign press with such incriminating information. The
governor of Erzurum provided more detailed information. According to him, Erzurum
had been suffering from food shortage for the past two years. Therefore, grain prices had
been skyrocketing. Consequently, some people had migrated to Trabzon, Lazistan, Sivas,
Amasya, and Malatya in order to find jobs. In other words, according to the governor, the
German newspaper was wrong in defining the movement of Ottoman subjects within the
Ottoman Empire as emigration (hicret). While some people had requested permission
from the authorities to leave their hometowns (mürur tezkiresi), no one had demanded
permission to emigrate.94
A month later, on February 11th 1894, another newspaper published in Vienna
issued an article about the famine in Erzurum. According to the article, the famine was
spreading to villages in Mus and Van. Due to snowfall, Trabzon could not send the much
needed seventy tons of wheat to Erzurum. Still, many families were able to migrate to
Trabzon using the very same road which was covered by snow. The state was in the
process of settling these families and ensuring their provisioning.95
As the Viennese newspaper pointed out, the Trabzon-Erzurum road was really
closed due to heavy snowfall. Especially, Zigana Mountain and the section between
93 PMOA, Y.PRK.A 9/21, 20 Recep 1311 (27 January 1894)
94 Ibid.
95 PMOA, Y.PRK.HR 18/62, 5 Saban 1311 (11 February 1894)
333
Erzurum and Bayburt were impassable. Some people and animals had lost their lives as a
result of recent avalanches. The governor of Trabzon asked Mehmet Sıtkı Bey, the
governor of Gümüshane sub-province, if it would be possible to plow the road. Mehmet
Sıtkı Bey replied that the snow at Çimenlibayır was as high as 164 feet (fifty meters).
Even if they employed a lot of people to clear the snow, there would still be the risk of
another avalanche. Therefore, traveling on the Trabzon-Erzurum road was extremely
dangerous at the moment. Mehmet Sıtkı Bey also asked the governor of Erzurum Hakkı
Bey to stay in Trabzon until weather conditions allowed his return to Erzurum.96
In the meantime, the Trabzon-Erzurum road was also important for the residents
of other interior provinces because it provided a faster way to reach as far as Istanbul.
The story of Mikhail Bin Aziz, a worker who migrated from Van to Istanbul provides a
good example. In October 1893, passers-by found Mikhail lying sick on Dolmabahçe-
Nisantası Avenue with a quilt covering his body. Mikhail had started feeling sick two
weeks ago. Around midnight on October 6th, he had taken a boat from Üsküdar to
Dolmabahçe. From there, he had walked uphill on Yıldırım Avenue where he had lost
consciousness. Doctor Colonel Abdülnur, who was in charge of sanitary conditions in
Besiktas and Dahan Bey, the governor of the district, examined the sick man. In their
report, the doctors stated that Mikhail’s condition was critical. He was taken to a hospital
in Beyoglu where the doctors diagnosed his condition as cholera. This case triggered
concern among authorities that workers like Mikhail who traveled throughout the empire
looking for jobs could spread epidemic diseases. As a result, the mayor of Istanbul
recommended that both sea and land transportation be subject to strict control so that
96 PMOA, Y.PRK.UM 29/42, 23 Saban 1311 (1 March 1894)
334
poor people like Mikhail would not be accepted on board or allowed to move from one
place to another along the roads.97
One year later, the Grand Vizier asked Kadri Bey, the governor of Trabzon, to
send workers, farm workers, porters, vagabonds, and villagers who were there to travel to
Istanbul back to their hometowns. The officials of the interior provinces were also
instructed to prevent the movement of such groups to Trabzon. The officials working in
quays were subject to punishment if they allowed people without a travel permit to get on
board.98
Additionally, the Grand Vizier suggested providing financial help to the needy
from the local branches of the Agricultural Bank so that they would have incentive to
stay in their hometowns. That way, they could perhaps start farming.99 It was already
obvious that these people would not be able to find a decent job in Istanbul. In the
meantime, there was also concern about the real identity of the migrants. Accordingly,
97 PMOA, Y.MTV 84/96, 26 Rebiyülevvel 1311 (7 October 1893). It was not only Ottoman authorities who
were afraid that roads would transmit infectious diseases. In 1904-1905, the American consul in Trabzon
was very concerned that the cholera epidemic in Van would spread as far as the Americas via the Trabzon-
Bayezid road. Accordingly, the Armenian emigrants of the Ottoman Empire were following this route in
order to reach Trabzon from the interior provinces of Van, Bitlis, and Erzurum. From Trabzon, the
emigrants were taking ships to Marseilles, Hamburg or Italian ports and from these European cities to New
York. It took the emigrants 20-30 days to reach Trabzon and approximately a hundred emigrants deported
the city each month. Dispatches from United States Consul in Trebizond, 1904-1906, National Archives,
Microfilm 1746, Roll 1, Volume 1, Dispatch Number 5, 12, 20-23. For further information on the
Armenian emigration from Eastern Anatolia, especially Harput, to the United States during the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries see, Gutman, Sojourners, Smugglers, and the State.
98 PMOA, Y.A.HUS 309/74, 26 Rebiyülevvel 1312 (27 September 1894); PMOA, BEO 483/36200, 26
Rebiyülevvel 1312 (27 September 1894); PMOA, BEO 483/36203, 26 Rebiyülevvel 1312 (27 September
1894)
99 PMOA, Y.A.HUS 309/74, 26 Rebiyülevvel 1312 (27 September 1894); PMOA, BEO 483/36203, 26
Rebiyülevvel 1312 (27 September 1894)
335
authorities suspected that there were some deserters, bandits, and other criminals among
them.100
Five months later, Trabzon sent a telegram to Istanbul and expressed its concerns
about the unsanitary accommodation conditions of the workers (amele) and hired laborers
(rençber) who invaded the city in order to go to Istanbul. Since roads were closed due to
snow, migrants could not return to their hometowns and the crowd created a health threat
in Trabzon. In its reply, the Grand Council asked the local government to allow those
who had legal permission to travel in the empire and only stop the ones who did not have
such official documentation.101
The Grand Vizier’s suggestion to provide financial help to migrants is crucial
because some fifty years after a civil servant had advised the central government to build
new roads instead of lending money to peasants (1840) –as examined at the beginning of
this chapter-, there was a retreat in policy. During these fifty-four years, the Ottoman
state had built new roads and improved the condition of the already existing ones. These
developments had exacerbated the poverty of certain social segments rather than solving
the problem of peasant indebtedness. Accordingly, roads helped make villagers more
dependent on the market. The fact that most of the migrants to Trabzon were beggars
rather than farmers supports the argument that peasants were less self-sufficient at the
turn of the twentieth century. Yet at the same time, roads also gave these people a chance
to leave their immediate localities, which they associated with deprivation, and to go in
search of new possibilities in other places such as Istanbul.
100 PMOA, BEO 483/36203, 26 Rebiyülevvel 1312 (27 September 1894)
101 PMOA, MV 83/100, 18 Saban 1312 (14 February 1895)
336
Thus, in the eyes’ of the state, roads had become a means of diffusing destitution
throughout the empire, from interior provinces like Erzurum to coastal cities like Trabzon
and even as far as the capital city Istanbul by the end of the nineteenth century. In this
context, officials wanted new policies to deal with the problem more efficiently. Hence,
rather than investing more money in the infrastructural capacity of the empire, the Grand
Vizier advocated a return to monetary means of tackling economic troubles, namely
providing financial help to those in need from the local branches of the Agricultural
Bank. However, this did not solve the problem of migration. Thus in 1908, almost fifteen
years later, Istanbul was the target of another rural exodus from eastern Anatolia.
Migration of 1908-1909:
In 1908, the region surrounding Erzurum once again suffered from drought. The
subsequent food shortage caused a discrepancy in local bread prices. In 1909, the price of
bread (1 kıyye – 1,283 grams) was fifty para in Trabzon, sixty para in Erzurum, and one
hundred para in Gümüshane.102 The local population responded to this situation by
migration. The migration of Sheikh Bizin tribe from Bayburt to Istanbul, for example,
constituted a big problem. The same tribe had also been mobile during the 1892-1894
famine when its members had migrated from Ilıca (a town on the Trabzon road just a few
miles away from Erzurum to the west) to Sungurlu in Yozgat.103 In 1908, they went as far
as Istanbul, and almost three hundred members of the tribe arrived in the capital three
days before Ramadan. They settled in the ruins of Çadırcı Khan amongst blacksmiths’
102 PMOA, DH.MKT 2708/81, 23 Zilhicce 1326 (16 January 1909)
103 Gül, 153.
337
workshops in Tavukpazarı (a neighborhood between Beyazıt and Çemberlitas). Thirtythree
households started begging on the streets. Asım Pasha, the Director of the
Commission of Health (Heyet-i Sıhhiye), prepared a report on the unsanitary conditions
in the ruins and strongly advised that these people be moved to another location.104
The number of people living there was too high and there were no toilets among
the ruins or nearby. In fact, the bad odor spreading from the ruins had already started
disturbing those who lived nearby and authorities had decided to investigate the situation
after they received complaints. A few tribal members were already sick but they refused
hospitalization. The Director of the First Municipal Arrondissement (Birinci Daire-i
Belediye in Bayezid) in Istanbul suggested that the tribe should resettle in the Third
Arrondissement (Üçüncü Daire-i Belediye in Fatih), which was less populated.105
A more detailed investigation by the Ministry of Police revealed that the number
of the tribal members was in fact only eighty.106 It is also likely that the rest might have
already dispersed in the streets of Istanbul before this investigation was conducted. The
municipality asked the tribe to return to Bayburt. The tribal members expressed that they
were unemployed in their hometowns and refused to go back. They wanted to be settled
permanently somewhere in Istanbul. Meanwhile, the Ministry of Interior needed to find a
way to fund their return. In addition, the Ministry of Police and the Municipality of
Istanbul had to cooperate to secure their return trip. The Municipality explained that
financing the tribesmen’s return to their hometowns based on the Anti-Vagrancy Laws
104 PMOA, DH.MKT 2641/26, 1 Sevval 1326 (27 October 1908)
105 Ibid.
106 PMOA, ZB 328/3, 1 Tesrin-i sani 1324 (14 November 1908)
338
(Men-i Tese’ül Nizamnamesi) would be too expensive and too difficult. Therefore, the
provincial government in Trabzon should have prevented the migration of such poor
people to Istanbul in the first place.107
The Ministry of Interior responded that interior provinces and districts had already
been warned about the risks of allowing poor people to travel to Istanbul. In this case,
what the Ministry of Police and the Municipality needed to do was to find the necessary
money and ensure the return of the tribal members to Bayburt!108 In the meantime, the
newly elected deputies from Erzurum were considering long-term solutions in the
Ottoman parliament. The Ministry of Interior agreed to their request to employ the poor
residents of Erzurum in the construction of roads starting in April 1909. The 30,000-
40,000 liras allocated to Erzurum by the Ministry of Public Works could be used for this
purpose.109 It was hoped that providing the poor with jobs would put an end to migration.
Eventually, the ministry allocated 34,000 liras to Erzurum and later increased this amount
by another 15,000 liras.110
A similar solution was employed in the case of some Kurds who migrated from
Erzurum to Istanbul. The government suspected them of planning a violent attack and
hiding weapons and dynamites in certain khans. The document does not specify why
authorities were suspicious of the Kurds, but this event took place immediately after the
31st March Incident which was a reactionary rebellion in Istanbul against the restoration
107 Ibid.
108 PMOA, DH.MKT 2682/88, 20 Zilkade 1326 (14 December 1908)
109 PMOA, DH.MKT 2700/54, 10 Zilhicce 1326 (3 January 1909)
110 PMOA, DH.MKT 2724/13, 8 Muharrem 1327 (30 January 1909)
339
of the constitutional monarchy in 1908. The politically tense environment of the capital in
the aftermath of this event may explain the concern about the Kurdish migrants. As the
government prepared to search one of the khans where Kurds stayed and later arrested
many of the migrants, it was also worried about not being able to prosecute all of the
suspects. As a solution, the Commander of the Third and the Movement Armies (Üçüncü
Ordu ve Hareket Ordusu Kumandanı) Mahmud Sevket Pasha –who was the main figure
to suppress the rebellion which had taken place only a month ago- stated that all of the
migrants must return to their hometowns and be subject to work in road constructions in
Erzurum. The return of these Kurdish migrants en masse, however, was too risky.
Eventually, it was agreed that they should return to Erzurum in smaller groups.111
Two years later, other Kurds from Bayezid created tension in Istanbul. On May
19th 1911, eighteen people collectively approached the imperial cordon and attempted to
present a petition during the parade following the Friday prayer. Lancer Selim Efendi fell
from his horse and injured his foot while he was trying to stop them. All eighteen were
arrested, but they were not prosecuted because authorities believed in their innocence.
Yet, two of these people –Mehmet and Hamdi who had recently settled in Istanbul- had
tried to present a petition before and had caused some commotion (heyecan) doing so.
Authorities believed that they were the “agent provocateurs” of the group and had led the
other sixteen detainees. They wanted the immediate return of all the migrants to
Bayezid.112
111 PMOA, DH.MKT 2801/25, 13 Rebiyülahır 1327 (4 May 1909); PMOA, DH.MKT 2831/66, 16
Cemaziyülevvel 1327 (5 June 1909)
112 PMOA, DH.EUM.KADL 17/43, 21 Cemaziyülevvel 1329 (20 May 1911)
340
In conclusion, while the famine of 1908-1909 was followed by the migration of
people from Erzurum and other surrounding regions such as Bayburt and Bayezid all the
way to Istanbul, there was limited mobility in the 1892-1894 case where inhabitants of
the same areas only went as far as Trabzon. Thus, the 1892-1894 famine led to an intraregional
movement whereas the 1908-1909 case had repercussions as far as Istanbul.
Another difference between the two cases concerns numbers. Whereas in 1892-1894
huge numbers of people moved across the Trabzon-Erzurum region, only a small quantity
of people migrated to Istanbul to escape the drought and famine in 1908-1909. Of course,
the limited scale of the drought in 1908 compared to 1892 must have played a role in this
difference. In both cases, however, the Ottoman state was unable to send aid to the
interior regions via the Trabzon-Erzurum road whereas the poor residents of the interior
regions were able to use the very same road to migrate to the other parts of the empire.
Conclusion:
Back in the 1850s, Ottoman bureaucrats had viewed roads as a useful means of
creating a unified imperial market and a facilitator of agriculture and internal trade. In
this respect, the Ottoman state was partially successful in realizing its goals. There is
some evidence in the secondary sources to conclude that the decline in the Iranian transit
trade on the Trabzon-Bayezid road was replaced by a growth in the exports of Erzurum to
regional and foreign markets by the 1890s. This “success,” however, would bring its own
drawbacks and increase the vulnerability of the inhabitants of the region during crises
like drought and famine. Istanbul government failed to deliver food supplies back to the
regions affected by famine because roads were blocked by snow during winter. In that
341
sense, this chapter hopes to contribute to the recent studies on disaster, which highlight
the “unnaturalness” of catastrophes.
Hence, towards the end of the century, some Ottoman officials had already started
questioning the advantages of commercialization and making further investments in road
works. Instead, they preferred going back to providing financial help to people who were
in debt. This would allow them to have incentives to stay in their hometowns rather than
migrating in order to escape economic distress. Another suggestion by Ottoman officials
hints at a return to provisionism according to which a certain amount of the local produce
would first be secured in regional warehouses before being allocated to exportation.
The question of migration invites further research to delve into the socioeconomic
relations of commerce and agriculture in northeastern Anatolia during the
period between 1870s and 1890s. As argued in this and the previous chapter, 1870s
witnessed the gradual decline in the Iranian transit trade whereas by the end of the 1890s
there was a growth in the exports of the locally produced goods. What this trajectory
leaves unanswered is the question on whether the inhabitants of the region were
dispossessed of their lands during these thirty years of commercialization of agriculture.
As Klein points out, works which study land-use practices in the eastern provinces of the
Ottoman Empire have so far focused on southern Kurdish provinces (which correspond to
modern-day northern Iraq). However, Klein suggests that similar processes, which ended
up turning the autonomous small peasantry into tenants and sharecroppers, might have
been influential in areas to the north of Mosul as well.113
113 Klein, The Margins of Empire, 133.
342
Increased levels of migration in the aftermath of famines also resulted in a change
in road policies. Ironically, when Ottoman statesmen were unable to send food supplies
to the victims of famine due to the inaccessibility of roads, people were successful to use
the very same roads to migrate. Thus while back in the 1850s, roads were seen as a
promoter of welfare, they turned out to be a space to spread poverty and destitution
throughout the empire only four decades later. The result was Istanbul’s attempt to
develop class-based policies restricting migration. Hence, local merchants enjoyed
mobility which enabled them to transport their merchandise to imperial or foreign
markets, while their fellow countrymen were suffering from starvation. In that sense, the
issue of famine and subsequent migrations present a good case to examine one of the
contradictory aspects of land haulage and modern state formation.
Migrants were not the only group who challenged the authority of the Ottoman
state thanks to their mobility. Highway robbers also posed many problems to the
authorities by means of their itinerant character. We now turn to their stories.
343
CHAPTER VI
SECURITY ON THE ROAD: HIGHWAY ROBBERY (1850s-1870s)
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in
nature, nor do the children of men as a whole
experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the
long run than outright exposure. Life is either a
daring adventure or nothing.
Helen Keller, The Open Door, 1957
Introduction:
One of the first instances of highway robbery on the Trabzon-Bayezid road (in the
period that this dissertation discusses) took place in 1854, four years after the first
attempt to reconstruct the road with modern techniques had faded away in 1850.
Highway robbers attacked Iranian merchant Hacı Ali Ekber at Zigana Pass and stole
3,000 liras of merchandize. Ekber later died from a gunshot wound in Erzurum where he
was taken for medical care.1 Around the same time as this incident, officials struggled
transportating cannons from Trabzon to Erzurum. Since cannons were snowbound near a
village called Hoşoğlan, local authorities had to mobilize the residents of nearby towns
such as Maçka, Akçaabat, Vakf-ı Sağır, and Of in order to move the cannons to their
ultimate destination.2
1 PMOA, HR.MKT 97/74, 10 Rebiyülahır 1271 (31 December 1854)
2 PMOA, A.M. 14/85, 1 Cemaziyülahır 1272 (8 February 1856)
344
These two events are good examples to analyze two different spaces that roads
symbolized in the late Ottoman world. Ultimately, these spaces became the political
arena of two different actors whose agenda radically differed from one another. As De
Certeau suggests, space is a “practiced place.” “Space is composed of intersections of
mobile elements,” he continues, “it is in a sense actuated by the ensemble of movements
deployed within it. Space occurs as the effect produced by the operations that make it
function in a polyvalent unity of conflictual programs or contractual proximities.”3
The Trabzon-Bayezid road and its relation to highway robbery exemplify this
definition of space. On the one hand, besides their economic utility, the construction of
new roads in the nineteenth century provided the Ottoman state with increased security
because frontiers had supposedly become easier to reach through the extended road
network. In fact, some roads were built primarily for military purposes and were
therefore called military roads (turuk-i askeri).4 Roads, however, were not only a means
of establishing state power, but also an arena that provided the space to contest that
power. In that sense, the construction of roads offers a good lens through which changes
and shifts in the structure of local power relations can be observed. Accordingly, while
highway robbers used the Trabzon-Bayezid road successfully for their own subversive
activities, the Ottoman state could not maximize its use of the same road for its own
3 Michel de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life, trans. Steven F. Rendall (Berkeley, Los Angeles &
London University of California Press, 1984), 117.
4 See for example, PMOA, DH.MKT 1575/82 14 Rebiyülahır 1306 (18 December 1888); PMOA, I.TNF
276/1, 2 Safer 1310 (26 August 1892); PMOA, I.HUS 62/1315-L-111, 9 Şevval 1315 (3 March 1898);
PMOA, Y.A.HUS 493/104, 3 Şaban 1323 (3 October 1905); PMOA, DH.MUI 57/17, 11 Muharrem 1328
(23 January 1910); PMOA, DH.UMVM 72/10, 22 Recep 1333 (5 June 1915); PMOA, DH.UMVM 72/11,
5 Ramazan 1333 (17 July 1915); PMOA, DH.UMVM 133/62, 18 Zilhicce 1333 (27 October 1915)
345
purposes –like the conveyance of military equipment, as the above-mentioned case
clearly points out.
Existing literature often associates Ottoman bandits with tribesmen, especially in
the eastern provinces of the empire. According to this view, tribes were originally
assigned to protect caravans that carried men and goods along the trade routes. However,
the same tribes were also considered a threat as they occasionally attacked and pillaged
the caravans which they were supposed to guard.5 Therefore, as Quataert suggests, it
would be wrong to conclude that nomadic tribes were necessarily threatening commerce.
On the contrary, trade “depended on good relations with nomadic tribes.” For example,
the pashas of Aleppo paid the Mawali tribe to protect the Aleppo-Hama road in the early
nineteenth century. Quataert concludes that this “system sometimes failed when the
rewards of plunder outweighed those of passage.”6 Similarly, Kayalı notes how the
failure to pay the Bedouins for the protection of roads and pilgrims resulted in an
insurrection in Amman and Maan in 1910.7 Thus, roads and highway robbery constitute
arenas that reflect changes in local power relations: as the relationship between tribes and
state officials changed from alliance to hostility, tribes’ role as defenders also shifted to
that of aggressors.
A conflict between the state and the tribes was not the only danger on roads.
Clashing interests of different tribes could also destroy the proper operation of trade on
5 For example see, Charles Issawi, The Fertile Crescent, 1800-1914: A Documentary Economic History
(New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 247-49.
6 Quataert, "The Age of Reforms, 1812-1914," 816. Beshara Doumani gives similar examples for another
Ottoman sanjak, Jabal Nablus. Doumani, 35, 39, 96.
7 Kayalı, 109.
346
land routes. In this context, Masters gives another example from the Mawalis: the power
struggle between the Mawali and the ‘Anaza confederation in the eighteenth century.
Accordingly, as the ‘Anaza replaced the Mawali, the latter started to plunder goods and
people on roads which were formerly protected by the ‘Anaza.8 Last but not least,
sedentarization policies of the Ottoman central state constitute another aspect of changing
local relations. According to Fattah, this process disrupted the pastoral economy of
nomadic tribes and served as “yet another tactic in the overall strategy of disrupting
networks of regional production and trade” in the Iraqi and Arabian provinces of the Gulf
region during the nineteenth century.9 It is in this context that tribesmen often responded
to this policy through banditry.10
Since improving security through the establishment of a road network was
regarded as a feature of Ottoman modernity, it is possible to read the tribes’ challenge to
the state’s authority on roads as the breakdown of the Ottoman state’s modernization
project at a local level. In this context, it is necessary to investigate who was actually
attacking caravans and other travelers. In short, who were bandits? Were they tribesmen
who were a posteriori labeled as either brigands or protectors of caravans depending on
the changes in local power relations and alliances? Or were there other actors involved in
highway robbery? This chapter will answer these questions in the context of the Trabzon-
Bayezid road.
8 Bruce Masters, "Aleppo: The Ottoman Empire’s Caravan City," in The Ottoman City between East and
West: Aleppo, İzmir, and Istanbul (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 44-45.
9 Fattah, 179.
10 For example see Yonca Köksal, "Coercion and Mediation: Centralization and Sedentarization of Tribes
in the Ottoman Empire," Middle East Studies 42, no. 3 (2006).
347
Hobsbawm describes banditry as a “primitive form of organized social protest,
perhaps the most primitive.” “It is regarded as such by the poor,” he continues, “who
consequently protect the bandit, regard him as their champion, idealize him, and turn him
into a myth.” However, bandits do not possess political consciousness; so Hobsbawm
rejects the definition of banditry as an organized political movement.11 How does
Hobsbawm’s analysis speak to the bandits who robbed travelers on the Trabzon-Bayezid
road? Did the highway robbers of this region enjoy the protection provided to them by
the locals? Did their actions constitute a conscious protest against the Ottoman state?
Some European travelers of the nineteenth century prefer establishing a
conflictual relationship between the Ottoman statesmen and the highway robbers. Moritz
Wagner, for example, a German geographer and natural historian who travelled on the
Trabzon-Erzurum road on his way to Armenia in 1843, noted the decline in the banditry
of “unruly” Kurds as a result of the recent centralization policies of the Ottoman state.
Most probably, Wagner referred to the reforms of Mahmud II in the early nineteenth
century and to the promulgation of the Tanzimat Edict in 1839. He wrote: “My
informants added that, since the Pachas had put in force a more vigorous repressive
system, plundering expeditions on a large scale had become much less frequent, and there
was greater risk from the nocturnal pilfering and thefts of solitary Koords, than from the
attacks of large hordes.”12
11 Eric Hobsbawm, Primitive Rebels: Studies in Archaic Forms of Social Movement in the Nineteenth and
Twentieh Centuries (New York: Norton and Company, 1959), 13, 23.
12 Moritz Wagner, Travels in Persia, Georgia and Koordistan, vol. 2 (London: Hurst and Blackett
Publishers, 1856), 290.
348
In contrast to this sharp contrast between the Ottoman central state and the local
bandits that Wagner observed in the nineteenth century, the relationship between the two
groups was actually more complex and intricate. First of all, as some of the cases
discussed below will clarify, on certain occasions, there was explicit collaboration
between the robbers and the Ottoman officials. Moreover, although the secondary
literature places a strong emphasis on Kurdish tribal members as the human resource of
highway robbery in eastern Anatolia, they were not the only group who threatened the
Ottoman state’s authority on roads. There was a variety of actors who resorted to
highway-robbery in Trabzon and Erzurum provinces during the late nineteenth century,
including members of the Hamidiye Regiments, tobacco smugglers, gendarmeries, and
fugitive soldiers. What is common about all of these four groups is that they were not
marginal members of the Ottoman society, but products of modern state institutions such
as universal conscription, sedentarization, integrated market economy, and
commercialized agriculture –as will be further discussed in detail in the next chapter.
Thus contrary to Wagner’s account, there was no zero-sum-game between state
centralization and banditry. On the contrary, highway robbery in the second half of the
nineteenth century was mostly the result of different modernization policies of the
Ottoman state.
In response, authorities sought a wide range of solutions in order to fight against
highway-robbery. Some examples include introducing an insurance policy for postal
services, increasing the sedentary population in the region, employing trackwalkers,
building more khans and police stations along the road, and whether or not to extend the
right to carry guns to the general population. Ironically, neither these specific measures
349
nor the improved road network in general led to increased levels of security in the region.
Instead, they generated its further militarization and the escalation of more violence as
the following examples will demonstrate.
From Ex Post Facto Financial Concerns to Preventive Military Measures:
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, American poet and educator, wrote the following
lines in 1878:
Mounted on Kyrat strong and fleet,
His chestnut steed with four white feet,
Roushan Beg, called Kurroglou,
Son of the road and bandit chief,
Seeking refuge and relief,
Up the mountain pathway flew.
Such was Kyrat’s wondrous speed,
Never yet could any steed
Reach the dust-cloud in his course.
More than maiden, more than wife,
More than gold and next to life
Roushan the Robber loved his horse.
In the land that lies beyond
Erzeroum and Trebizond,
Garden-girt his fortress stood;
Plundered khan or caravan
Journeying north from Koordistan,
Gave him wealth and wine and food.13
These words describe Longfellow’s perception of highway robbers in the
Trabzon-Erzurum region. According to Longfellow, Ottoman highway robbers made
money through their crime. We may never know for sure whether this was really the
case; but Longfellow was not the only Western traveler who wrote in his fiction about
13 H. W. Longfellow, "The Leap of Roushan Beg," in In the Saddle: A Collection of Poems on Horseback-
Riding (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1882), 61-62.
350
banditry on the Trabzon-Erzurum road. Verney Lovett Cameron, an English traveler who
spent many years abroad (mostly in Africa), wrote numerous adventure books for boys.
One of his books, titled Among the Turks, was based on the story of a shipwrecked sailor
who was enslaved by the Ottomans. During the time he spent in the Ottoman Empire, the
sailor also travelled from Trabzon to Erzurum.14
In the section about the trip from Trabzon to Erzurum, Cameron devotes several
pages to the fictional character Kara Yusuf, a Kurdish bandit who terrorized the
countryside along the Trabzon-Erzurum road. As the story goes, Kara Yusuf captures
Faik Pasha, the recently appointed governor of Erzurum, on his way from Trabzon to
Erzurum. Faik Pasha’s appointment had resulted from his predecessor’s dismissal
following his failure to capture Kara Yusuf. In the end, Kara Yusuf makes a deal with the
central authorities for a pardon over the new governor Faik Pasha’s life. After this, he
develops a mutually beneficial and collaborative relationship with the new governor and
settles in Erzurum as the “respected” Yusuf Bey for the rest of his life.15
Thus, according to Longfellow and Cameron, highway robbery was a source of
wealth and an opportunity for social mobility for bandits in the Trabzon-Erzurum region.
Similarly, the Ottoman state approached the issue of highway robbery also from a
financial perspective in the early 1850s. Regardless of whether Longfellow and
Cameron’s observations were really the case or not, financial constraints caused by
14 Verney Lovett Cameron, Among the Turks (London, Edinburg & New York: Thomas Nelson and Sons,
1890), 66-124.
15 Ibid.
351
highway robbery constituted one of the major problems that the Ottoman state had to
tackle with in the early 1850s.
For example in 1855, a French officer who traveled to Istanbul was killed between
Trabzon and Erzurum. The officer wanted to extend his contract with the Ottoman
government and therefore journeyed to the capital city. Most likely, the officer was
employed in the service of the Ottoman state as a result of the French-Ottoman alliance
during the Crimean War. Ottoman officials had previously warned the officer to let a few
soldiers accompany him on the road. The officer, however, did not take these warnings
seriously and was eventually killed. The French Foreign Ministry did not expect the
Ottoman government to pay compensation for the murder of a French citizen; but they
wanted the Ottomans to take into account the miserable state of his wife and two deaf
children and help them.16
In addition to paying compensation to the families’ of the deceased victims,
another financial problem that highway robbery posed to the Ottoman state concerned
how to catch the robbers and finance their search. In other words, initially, the Ottomans
had little interest in finding a systematic way to prevent the criminal activities of the
robbers in the first instance. They were mostly concerned with the ex post facto
consequences of highway robbery. In 1858, four Russians from Yerevan and three
Iranians from Maku robbed two Russians –a man and a woman- at Deveboynu. The
robbers were refugees in the Ottoman Empire (devlet-i aliyeye dehalet etmiş olan) when
they robbed their fellow countrymen. They were the attendants of a certain Şirin Bey who
used to be a soldier in the Russian army. Hurşit Bey, a resident of Erzurum and a member
16 PMOA, HR.TO 196/6, 2 April 1855
352
of a dynastic family in Muş, took twenty five of his men –who were Kurdish cavalrymenand
started looking for the fugitives.17
Hurşit Bey was able to find four Russians in a district of Van which was 108
hours away from Erzurum. Since the other three fugitives were already in Iran, Hurşit
Bey did not want to cause an international crisis between the two states. Therefore, Hurşit
Bey stopped looking for the Iranians, but learned their names and places of residence. He
then returned to Erzurum with four Russian bandits accompanying him. Meanwhile,
Istanbul asked the Iranian government to turn the fugitives over to the Ottoman Empire.
In the end, Hurşit Bey spent 150 liras for the journey which took two months. Istanbul,
however, could reimburse him only 30 liras. Therefore, the governor of Erzurum asked
for permission to give Hurşit Bey the rest of the money from the provincial treasury.18
This case constitutes one of the first cases in which a non-official figure (Hurşit
Bey) took care of the search for the fugitives. It is also noteworthy that highway robbers
had regional ties which extended as far as Van. Moreover, they also enjoyed a freedom of
mobility within the Ottoman-Iranian-Russian frontier and easily crossed “borders” that
separated the Ottoman, Iranian, and Russian Empires from one another. On the other
hand, people who acted on behalf of the state (like Hurşit Bey) feared being disrespectful
of the “border” that divided the Ottoman Empire from the Oajar dynasty. This marks a
difference between official and non-official configurations of territoriality and how
17 PMOA, MVL 568/83, 13 Ramazan 1274 (27 April 1858)
18 Ibid.
353
criminals followed a politics of space which was more “encompassing” and “freer” than
authorities’ “bounded” mindset.19
A few months later, highway robbers attacked an Iranian caravan near
Gümüşhane, wounded a merchant with a bullet, and stole the money and merchandise of
the tradesmen. Authorities expected the fugitives to escape to Erzurum because it was the
closest city to the crime scene. Initially, Istanbul government’s reaction placed blame on
the corruption of the provincial administration in Trabzon which failed to secure the
region.20 After a while, however, central authorities acknowledged the need to take some
preventive measures. Especially the region near Maçka and Gümüşhane had become a
“hotbed for bandits” (eşkıya yatağı) ever since the Iranian transit trade was on the rise.
Therefore, there remained a need to employ a sergeant and eight privates at five different
points on the road. The soldiers were supposed to protect the road throughout the whole
year (including the winter) regardless of weather conditions.21
Preferably, these five points should be near khans. If these five locations were
close enough to khans, there would be no need for the construction of extra bastions
(derbend); but there was still need for a few new huts for the accommodation of the
soldiers. In total, the monthly stipends of the sergeants and the privates amounted to 47.5
liras. Authorities should choose a specific village –close enough to one of the designated
19 For example, Blumi suggests that “borders” are usually drawn in response to locals’ freedom to choose
between and play around alternative imperial powers. Blumi gives the example of British and Ottoman
concerns to adopt a “border solution” in reaction to “increasing ambiguity over who represented whom in
these [Yemeni] unmarked frontier areas.” Blumi, Chaos in Yemen, 104.
20 PMOA, A.MKT.UM 333/6, 4 Rebiyülahır 1275 (11 November 1858)
21 PMOA, MVL 582/71, 4 Şaban 1275 (9 March 1859); PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 107/7, 23 Ramazan 1275
(26 April 1859)
354
points- which would temporarily finance this cost. At the same time, officials anticipated
a further rise in the busyness of the road soon, which would increase the prosperity and
cultivation (şenlik) of the region and thus make the road safer and the employment of the
soldiers eventually redundant.22
Thus, during the 1850s, Ottoman authorities relied more or less on local power
holders in their fight against highway robbery and were concerned about the financial
constraints caused by this phenomenon rather than seeing it as a major political problem
or as a serious threat to security in the region. On the contrary, they remained quite
optimistic that highway robbery would cease to exist as the road would become a more
important commercial route. Therefore, they did not think of creating a permanent budget
to deal with this problem but assigned certain villages as the responsible partners for the
collective prevention of highway robbery or certain local notables for the chase of the
robbers.
The influence of local notables on highway robbery would continue over the
course of the nineteenth century –as the following sections will show; but in the 1860s,
the Ottoman state started experimenting with new methods in order to effectively deal
with the problem. In 1861, highway robbers attacked Mehmet Ali Bey, an Iranian postal
service official (çapar), at night near Kilesor Village in Karakilise district.23 Mehmet
Bey, the governor of Eleşkirt district, caught three of the robbers who were members of
the Kotan and Cinokan subsections of the Celali tribe. Six bandits escaped. Authorities
22 Ibid.
23 PMOA, MVL 617/18, 29 Rebiyülevvel 1278 (4 October 1861); PMOA, A.MKT.UM 508/76, 16
Rebiyülahır 1278 (21 October 1861)
355
suspected that they would flee either to Yerevan in Russia or to Kağızman in Kars subprovince.
24
Meanwhile, one suggestion was to hold the postal service officials responsible for
the loss of insured packages. Accordingly, officials should pay compensation to the
customers. This caused some local officials to get concerned. In Maçka for example, this
policy would require the appointment of two extra cavaliers because the current number
of fifteen infantry and cavalier sergeants was not enough to protect the postal caravans. In
other words, without further military reinforcement, this policy placed innocent postal
service officials in a serious financial risk. In the nearby districts of Trabzon, there were
272 gendarmeries on temporary duty at the time. Local authorities thought that two of
these gendarmeries could be employed in Maçka for this purpose.25
Thus, in the early 1860s, Ottoman authorities started considering some military
measures as an effective means of fighting highway robbery; but robbers continued to be
active “users” of the Trabzon-Bayezid road in 1863. First of all, highway robbery was not
the only kind of thievery whose crime scene was roads. Khans were also subject to
criminal activities. In 1863 for example, Iranian merchant Hacı Ismail reported his goods
to be stolen while he was sleeping in Suleiman Khan in Gümüşhane sub-province.26
Therefore, guaranteeing the safety of khans was as crucial for the Ottoman state as the
protection of travelers while they traveled.
24 PMOA, MVL 617/18, 29 Rebiyülevvel 1278 (4 October 1861)
25 PMOA, A.MKT.MVL 146/33, 14 Zilkade 1278 (13 May 1862)
26 PMOA, MVL 651/79, 18 Rebiyülevvel 1280 (2 September 1863)
356
Meanwhile, Kalu Hassan and his son Hussein –both from Viran Village in Tercan
district- attacked a caravan while it was resting during the night in Bayburt. They
attacked the caravan because they claimed to own the field on which the muleteers grazed
their animals. Hassan and Hussein stole two mules, shot Hacı Mehmet, and wounded his
friend. Hacı Mehmet died because of wounds opened by both a sword and a bullet. While
Hassan and Hussein escaped to Erzurum, their accomplices Cem and Deli Osman
managed to cover their traces. The Grand Council advocated punishing the robbers with
utmost severity in order to establish a precedent. Hopefully, this punishment would warn
other criminals who might kill a person for as small a reward as two mules.27
Two months later, authorities arrested all the robbers except Deli Osman. While
Kalu Hassan and his son Hussein denied the accusations, Cem confessed his crime and
claimed that the stolen animals were in the possession of Hassan. Originally, the sixtysecond
article of the Penal Code destined to death sentence any highway robber who had
been previously accused of the same crime and tortured or killed travelers. Since only
Cem pled guilty, the Grand Council decided to reduce the penalty of Kalu Hassan and his
son to hard labor for fifteen years in accordance with the forty-seventh article of the
Criminal Code.28
This case is an interesting example because it suggests the succession of banditry
from father to son. For Kalu Hassan and his son Hussein, highway robbery constituted a
“family business” or a “profession” with which the family earned their living. This case
27 PMOA, MVL 656/13, 15 Rebiyülâhır 1280 (29 September 1863); PMOA, MVL 661/14, 24
Cemaziyülâhır 1280 (6 December 1863)
28 PMOA, MVL 661/14, 24 Cemaziyülâhır 1280 (6 December 1863)
357
also demonstrates that by 1863, highway robbery was still not a very serious threat for the
central government. While the sixty-second article of the Penal Code authorized the
execution of “professional” bandits (bu cinayette sabıkalı ve şekavet-i müstemire
ashabından olanlar),29 the Grand Council agreed to reduce their punishment to penal
servitude.
Thus, the Ottoman state did not hesitate to show tolerance towards highway
robbers as another event in 1863 also concerned attenuating circumstances from which
robbers tried to take advantage. Accordingly, Tonyalıoğlu Ali, his brother, and his friend
Suleiman had been already in prison for five years since 1858 for robbing Iranian Imam
Ali on the Trabzon-Bayezid road. Authorities imprisoned the men in Trabzon governor’s
office which was recently damaged due to a fire. Even though all the prisoners had the
chance to escape during the fire, they were prevented by Suleiman, Ali, and his brother.
In recognition of their good conduct, the three prisoners wanted their release on bail. This
request was in violation of the sixty-second article of the Penal Code which sentenced
highway robbers to temporary or life-long hard labor depending on the specificities of
each crime. Therefore, the request was rejected.30
Apart from these few events recorded in 1863, the early 1860s proved to be a
relatively calm era. This may be related to the fact that the Ottomans took the necessary
military precautions in order to secure the road. In 1866 for example, the Grand Council
decided to assign two cavaliers between Trabzon and Cevizlik, two cavaliers between
Cevizlik and Ardasa, and two cavaliers between Ardasa and Gümüşhane. These six
29 Ibid.
30 PMOA, MVL 654/54, 20 Recep 1280 (31 December 1863)
358
cavaliers accompanied the postal caravans in return for a monthly stipend of 2.5 liras.31 In
1868, there were twenty-four gendarmeries who protected the section between Erzurum
and Bayburt.32 The number of the security forces who protected the road was not enough
two years later in 1870 as highway robbers attacked the French consul of Erzurum and
his family on their way from Trabzon.33
Later during the 1870s, the economic significance of the road relatively declined
for several reasons to be discussed in the conclusion of this chapter. Nevertheless, the
road continued to retain its military significance because of its strategic location by the
Russian and Iranian borders. Especially given the growing political tension between the
Ottoman Empire and Russia, the road would prove to be vital for the Ottoman defense
during the Russo-Ottoman War of 1877-1878. The government transported military
supplies to the army corps stationed along the eastern frontier via this route.
Consequently, the Ottoman state needed to secure the supplies’ safe passage.
Ironically, one of the rationales for the renovation of the road in the midnineteenth
century was its strategic location which was expected to enhance security
throughout the empire. However, in 1877, Istanbul still needed additional forces to
protect the cannons transported via this route. Since the soldiers in the region already
began mobilizing for the war, the central government ordered Trabzon and Erzurum
provinces to recruit two hundred additional gendarmeries to secure the transportation of
the military supplies. Trabzon was required to provide a hundred soldiers to guard the
31 PMOA, I.MVL 545/24494, 13 Şaban 1282 (1 January 1866)
32 PMOA, MVL 1053/66, 23 Zilhicce 1284 (16 April 1868)
33 PMOA, DH.MKT 1311/28, 5 Rebiyülevvel 1287 (5 June 1870)
359
weapons until Bayburt and Erzurum would supply another hundred for the rest of the
journey from Bayburt to Erzurum.34
This case is significant for showing that a better road network, which the
Ottomans aimed at by building new roads and renovating the already existing ones in the
post-1850 period, did not necessarily mean an increase in the infrastructural capacity of
the Ottoman Empire. Modernization of the transportation sector was not an even process
which increased the security claims of the state. On the contrary, roads were equally
claimed by outlaws. And ironically enough, more and more army forces were required to
protect the military supplies that were transported on this road which was initially rebuilt
with hopes of increasing the authority of the Ottoman state in the region.
Istanbul government was right to be concerned about the security of the military
supplies as Kurdish bandits raided sixty bales of goods on the Trabzon-Erzurum road in
1878.35 A year later, there were ninety-six cavaliers protecting the road between Trabzon
and Erzurum. Four cavaliers were settled in each gendarmerie cordon and the rest were
located in residential areas. There was still need for another ninety-six cavaliers so that
the number in the cordons could increase to ten and twenty cavaliers could constantly
move along the road on patrol. Additionally, two lieutenants should supervise the
cavaliers. Moreover, cavaliers were supposed to accompany also postal caravans. Only
under these circumstances could the merchants feel safe while travelling on the road.36
Alternatively, infantrymen could guard the road if additional police stations were built to
34 PMOA, I.DH 757/61785, 10 Şevval 1294 (18 October 1877)
35 PMOA, HR.TO 254/33, 7 October 1878
36 PMOA, SD.MLK 1505/45, 7 Zilkade 1296 (23 October 1879)
360
reduce the distance between the stations. As this was still a measure on trial, Trabzon and
Erzurum provincial governments reserved the right to dismiss the infantrymen if they
proved to be useless. Additionally, each police station along the road still needed the
appointment of a lance corporal and either ten infantrymen or five cavaliers. Last but not
least, a sergeant major should superintend all the stations and two captains should reside
in Trabzon and Gümüşhane in order to occasionally inspect the road.37
Thus, between the 1850s and 1870s, the manner in which Ottoman authorities
thought of highway robbery changed significantly. In the early 1850s, authorities focused
on the financial consequences of the attacks and did not care too much for taking
preventive measures. By the 1870s however, it was clear that the reinforcement of
security forces was necessary to effectively deal with highway robbery. In other words,
Ottomans were no more as optimistic as they were in the early 1850s and did not expect a
decline in banditry. Therefore, they tried to prevent highway robbery in the first instance
rather than concentrating their efforts on how to fund the chase for the robbers.
One factor which may have caused this change in Ottoman authorities’ mentality
may be related to the fact that highway robbers worked within a very wide regional
network that transcended the borders of the Ottoman Empire into Russia and Iran. In
addition to providing the robbers with useful knowledge in local geography, this network
created strong ties between the local population and the highway robbers. While some
were patronized by local officials and notables, others were protected by villagers. The
following two sections of this chapter will present two cases of highway robbery which
exemplify how this regional network functioned and how it facilitated the everyday life
37 PMOA, SD.MLK 1831/6, 15 Recep 1296 (5 July 1879)
361
struggles and survival of the robbers. The mobility of the highway robbers within this
trans-imperial network was especially important at a time when both the Ottoman and
Qajar Empires were trying to delimit and fix their borders throughout the nineteenth
century. In this context, “the process of turning the borderlands into bordered lands also
meant narrowing the limits of the movement of the itinerant populations.”38 Thus,
highway robbers, amongst other groups such as the nomadic tribes, proved imperial
efforts to be very porous and ambivalent thanks to their mobility.
Regional Alliances between Highway Robbers and Local Power Holders
In 1861, highway robbers attacked a certain Iranian merchant Hacı Ali Ekber near
Erzurum. The aftermath of the robbery sheds light on some very interesting aspects of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road’s history in the second half of the nineteenth century.
Accordingly, an attendant of the Iranian representative on commerce claimed that one of
the robbers was under the patronage of the governor (kaza müdürü) of a district in Kars.
The Iranian representative demanded the robber to surrender. While he waited for the
response of the officials in Erzurum, the robber left the müdür’s house, attacked another
Iranian caravan with his friends and killed the son of a certain Şirin Sultan. The Iranian
consul accused the müdür and wanted the Ottoman government to interrogate him in
order to identify the robbers.39
38 Sabri Ateş, Empires at the Margin: Towards a History of the Ottoman-Iranian Borderland and the
Borderland Peoples, 1843-1881 (Unpublished Dissertation, New York University, 2006), 232.
39 PMOA, MVL 617/48, 11 Cemaziyülevvel 1278 (14 November 1861)
362
In response, the governor of Erzurum deployed Hassan Bey and Mustafa Agha,
members of two dynastic families in Kağızman, who confirmed that they had seen the
robber hiding in the müdür’s house. Luckily, the müdür did not know Hassan Bey and
Mustafa Agha were spying on him. So, Hasan Bey and Mustafa Agha informed the
governor of Kars sub-province, but the governor refused to challenge the müdür because
he did not want to “disturb” him (müdür beye dokunacağı cihetle). Later, another
investigation revealed some of Hacı Ali Ekber’s stolen goods were really in the müdür’s
and his brother’s possession. Therefore, the Iranian representative wanted the müdür to
pay for what he had stolen.40
The investigation also made clear that the müdür’s influence and power extended
far beyond his territorial jurisdiction. For example, all the other districts in Kars were
governed by his relatives. Furthermore, the members of Kars’ assembly were also his
retinues. Therefore, even if Istanbul challenged the müdür, he would find local support
through other political channels that would keep him in office. In fact, the müdür had
been in power for the last twenty years and even the governor of Kars sub-province was
not able to confront or displace him. Moreover, the Russian consulate had previously
filed an official complaint because the müdür had been sending his men to Tbilisi,
Gyumri, and Yerevan in order to illegally confiscate the peasants’ animals in these three
Transcaucasian cities. When the animals’ owners appealed to the müdür in order to take
their stock back, he had asked for bribes. Besides, even when the owners agreed to pay
40 Ibid.
363
the bribe, the müdür returned only some of the stolen animals and kept the rest for sale in
the Ottoman market.41
Furthermore, the müdür also agitated the Karapapak tribe (taife) in order to
convince the Ottoman state for the abolition of the taxes on land and domesticated
animals (ağnam ve tapu rüsumatı). The müdür owned most of the land and animals in the
district and therefore suffered the most from the collection of these taxes. Finally,
Abdülmehmet Bey, the former governor of Çıldır district who was settled in Trabzon
with his family because of mismanagement, agreed to testify against the müdür. Given
the strategic importance of the district located next to the Russian border, all this
information was more than enough for the governor of Erzurum to ask the Sublime Porte
to take immediate action against the müdür. The Grand Council agreed the müdür should
be dismissed but did not have the legal right to do so unless there was a court order
proving that all these accusations were verifiable.42
This event is a good example to see how the Trabzon-Bayezid road was
embedded in a regional context rather than being only a connecting line between the
places of residence along it. Highway robbers had far-reaching connections with towns
like Kars which in physical terms did not have any actual ties with the Trabzon-Bayezid
road. Moreover, the alliance between highway robbers and local power holders extended
41 Ibid.
42 Ibid. It is very likely that Istanbul actually did not want to intervene. Toksöz discusses the existence of
“unruly” local authorities at the district level in another part of the empire, Çukurova, at around the same
time. As a matter of fact, she argues that the creation of new institutions at the local level as part of
Tanzimat reforms recognized the autonomy of many local power holders. Toksöz concludes that “they
escaped such [central] control easily, as long as the local elite did not cause a major disturbance and as long
as they made sure that the appropriate taxes reached the central treasury.” Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and
Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean, 61-62.
364
the relevance of the road to places like Yerevan which were beyond the borders of the
Ottoman Empire, thus highlighting the fragility of borders which supposedly existed
between the Ottoman, Russian, and Qajar dynasties.
This event highlights not only the importance of putting the road’s history into a
regional context, but also the complex nature of local and regional networks. Why would
Hassan Bey and Mustafa Agha, two notables of Kağızman, agree to Erzurum governor’s
demand to spy on another district official, in other words the “infamous” müdür? Could
this be related to a rivalry between the two districts? Or why would the former governor
of Çıldır district, already a “corrupt” official, agree to testify against another “fraudulent”
fellow bureaucrat? As it is very clear from this example, instead of a “natural” alliance
among centrally appointed state officials (may be it Istanbul, the province of Erzurum,
the sub-province of Kars, or Kağızman district) against “naturally-born-decentralists,” in
other words the so-called local power holders, we see either a collaboration or a clash
between different government officials and local notables depending on the specificities
of each district and contingencies of time.
Since this dissertation is particularly focused on the Trabzon-Bayezid road’s
history, unfortunately we cannot go into the details of the local histories of each of these
places and create a map of the formal and informal regional networks. The history of this
particular road, however, may still be a good starting point to identify the connecting and
overlapping histories of the broader regional, and sometimes trans-imperial, frameworks
as this case clearly points out. Moreover, this case counts also as another example of
“divided” provinces or “localisms within localism” –a theme discussed in Chapter Four
in the case of the rivalries between Rize and Trabzon. It is very clear that the müdür of
365
the district in Kars (which was within the borders of Erzurum province) did not care for
the security of a road from which the province was supposed to benefit as a whole. On
the contrary, the müdür was in explicit alliance with the highway robbers. As a matter of
fact, he was patronizing bandits by organizing gangs which operated within a wide
regional framework that ranged from the Trabzon-Bayezid road in the south all the way
to Yerevan in the east and Tbilisi and Gyumri in the north.
Another case of highway robbery which took place in 1867 and its aftermath also
prove the importance of regional networks for the “proper” functioning of highway
robbery. Now we turn to the details of this event.
Mobility and Local Support: Is It Possible to Speak of Social Bandits?
On April 11th 1867 in late afternoon, the postal service which left Erzurum on its
way to Istanbul was attacked by seven felons at Massad Dere near Köşepınar Mountain.
Five of the felons (Arap Ibn Şerif, Mehmet Taki, Mehmet, Kerim Ibn Baba, and
Zeynelabidin Mehmet) were from Iran and two others (Hussein from Yerevan -hereafter,
Revanlı Hussein- and his nephew Abbas) were Russian subjects from Yerevan. Arap was
from Harami Village of Iran’s Çaldıran district in Khoy. Both Mehmet Taki and Mehmet
were from Mehmet Şahı Village in Iran. Kerim was born in Geçit Village of Iran’s Maku
district even though his father was from Yerevan. Zeynelabidin Mehmet’s real name was
Ali; but in order to protect his identity, he had introduced himself to his partners in crime
as Zeynelabidin. He was born in Iran, but he had started living with a certain Hacı
Hussein and Hacı Mehmet in Yerevan some ten years ago.43
43 PMOA, I.DA 5/77, 19 Muharrem 1286 (1 May 1869)
366
We do not have much information on the socio-economic background of the
robbers. Revanlı Hussein was the only one who talked in detail about his identity during
the interrogation. Hussein was the only son of a certain Kerim and the grandson of Hacı
Ibrahim. His father was still alive working as a tailor in Yerevan and did not own any real
estate. Hussein emigrated from Yerevan to Iran some seven years ago, leaving his family
behind in Russia. Actually, he was initially planning to take refugee in Iran together with
his wife; but later, Hussein had to refrain from this idea because he would have to leave
his home in a hurry. Accordingly, Hussein left Yerevan because he fell in disagreement
with the local notable Hacı Abbas Kulniyan who seized Hussein’s field of clover
(yoncalık) and gave it to Mehmet, the son of a certain Hacı Hussein. In return, Revanlı
Hussein beat Mehmet and immediately left the town after the fight because he feared
Kulniyan’s response. Later, Kulniyan died; but Hussein was still afraid to return to his
hometown because Kulniyan’s relatives were still very influential there. After taking
refuge in Iran, Hussein worked as the servant of a certain Ahmet Agha. A few years
before, he held also a temporary job in Eleşkirt for three months and worked also as a
cameleer. From this information, we can draw that at least Revanlı Hussein was not rich.
Moreover, the fact that none of his partners were literate also suggests that all the felons
were actually members of lower classes.44
Unfortunately, the twenty-two page long testimony of the robbers does not
provide any information on how they came together. We do know, however, that Mehmet
Taki was a well known bandit even before this event. Moreover, the robbers were
itinerant in the region around Yerevan even though some of them were Russian subjects
44 Ibid.
367
and some Iranians. Thus, it is likely that the robbers knew each other before this event.
Or maybe, Mehmet Taki was the person whom they knew all in common and he was the
one who brought them together. The fact that Zeynelabidin (whose real name was
actually Ali) hid his identity from the other members of the group suggests that at least he
was a recent incomer. It is certain, however, that these seven men moved along the
Trabzon-Bayezid road with the purpose of robbery because the attack on the postal
service was not the first crime that the robbers committed together –even though Revanlı
Hussein would later claim the contrary during his first interrogation.45
Near Kızılvize for example, the seven friends planned to lay in ambush and rob a
merchant. Since no one showed up for a while, they got back on the road after a while.
Near Eleşkirt, they lied in ambush again and saw a cavalier from Bayezid approaching.
Arap, Abbas, Zeynelabidin, and Mehmet Taki went ahead towards the cavalier while
Kerim, Hussein, and Mehmet headed towards the other direction to check the road. When
they saw three Iranians coming, Hussein stopped them and engaged in a conversation so
that they would not notice what the rest were about to do. While the Iranians chatted with
the robbers, the others attacked the cavalier and stole his five liras, horse, and clothing.
The robbers tied the cavalier and left him at the crime scene. In the meantime, two
Kurdish pedestrians suddenly showed up. Abbas and Zeynelabidin attacked them too.
The Kurds escaped towards a nearby mountain.46
While the division of labor between the robbers worked smoothly during the
attacks, they also disagreed with one another on several occasions. After this event for
45 Ibid.
46 Ibid.
368
example, Kerim worried they would draw the attention of the local authorities with these
spontaneous attacks which were actually not pre-organized. So, even though the felons
had in mind to rob travelers along the road, their strikes were mostly random. As the
details of this event will convey below, they did not have the intention to attack the postal
caravan initially; but it was others who inspired them to do so.
During the interrogation, the robbers initially testified their group was comprised
of only seven. Since they had spent two nights in Köşepınar and Zazalar Khans, the
owners of the khans could verify their testimonies. In reality however, the details that
they provided about their itinerary suggests that the robbers had long-established ties with
the local population who were actually also involved in the robbery. For example, after
the attack on the cavalier, the robbers spent the night in Taşlıçay Village where they
stayed in the house of a certain Hassan who sacrificed one of his goats for the robbers.
The next day, the robbers went on to Kilesor and visited a certain Ahmet who served
them chicken for dinner. Kerim stayed in Ahmet’s house and Revanlı Hussein and Arap
spent the night at the place of Ahmet’s brother Oruç. Since Oruç was in Erzurum, his
wife and his servant hosted the robbers. Abbas and Zeynelabidin spent the night in
Abdullah Khan where they stayed until they finally left Kilesor at the evening of their
second day in town. Mehmet and Mehmet Taki spent the night in another khan.47
In Kilesor, Ahmet encouraged the robbers and planted in their minds the idea of
plundering the postal caravan which also carried the goods of a merchant Ali in Erzurum.
According to Ahmet, Ali refrained from using a private carrier, choosing the official
postal service in order to transfer his money and merchandise. Later, the robbers used this
47 Ibid.
369
information as an excuse to claim that they did not know the caravan was also carrying
money which belonged to the state (miri malı). On the contrary, they believed the postal
service to be only a merchant’s private carrier. In Kilesor, Ahmet also instructed the
robbers to find his brother Oruç in Erzurum. Oruç had gone to Erzurum four and a half
months ago to dun a muleteer who owed him money. Oruç stayed in Erzurum with a
certain Hussein from Iran (hereafter, Iranian Hussein) whom the brothers had known for
twelve years. Iranian Hussein could help them plan the robbery in detail.48
So, almost in every village, the robbers had a place to stay. Moreover, they had
informants within the local population who provided them with information on caravans.
After Kilesor, Revanlı Hussein and Arap went to a certain Baku’s house. Later, they
joined their fellows in Zirgan Village. In Zirgan, the bandits visited the house of an
Armenian innkeeper. Revanlı Hussein used to stay in the innkeeper’s khan when he
worked as a cameleer. Hussein, Kerim, Arap, and Abbas spent the night at the
Armenian’s place. Lacking room at this place, Mehmet Taki, Mehmet, and Zeynelabidin
stayed in another villager’s house. While the bandits cooked meat and drank tea in the
morning, Ahmet’s brother Oruç –who was on his way back from Erzurum to his
hometown Kilesor- accidentally showed up in the Armenian’s house. This nice
coincidence reinforces the fact that the robbers had a wide social network.49
Moreover, apart from their own mobility and extensive knowledge in local
geography, the robbers had close ties with other people, such as innkeepers, who were in
transportation business. Thus, they made use of their friends’ social connections and
48 Ibid.
49 Ibid.
370
mobility as well. In a way, the innkeepers operated similar to informants for robbers. For
example, in the Armenian innkeeper’s house at Zirgan, Oruç gave the robbers
information about the postal caravan which left Erzurum every Thursday. As his brother
Ahmet claimed, the caravan carried also the money of merchant Ali. Oruç described to
the robbers the outlooks of Iranian Hussein whom they were supposed to find in
Erzurum. Later, Oruç decided to accompany the robbers back to the city where he helped
them find Iranian Hussein. Before leaving Zirgan, the robbers bought barley from the
marketplace.50
Brothers Ahmet and Oruç were both Ottoman subjects living in Kilesor. Ahmet
was, not surprisingly, an innkeeper as well. Since Kilesor was a regular stopping place on
the Erzurum-Bayezid road, there were many people as far as Trabzon who knew both
Ahmet and his brother Oruç; but it was too difficult for them to remember every traveler
who stayed in their khan. Therefore, Ahmet and Oruç would later refuse to know the
seven robbers. The testimonies of Abbas, Zeynelabidin, Mehmet Taki, and Mehmet
verified at least Ahmet. Since they had spent the night in separate khans in Kilesor, they
never had the chance to personally meet him.51
The interrogators were suspicious of Ahmet and Oruç who claimed to have
nothing to do with the robbery. Contrary to their friends, Revanlı Hussein, Kerim, and
Arap insisted that they knew the brothers Ahmet and Oruç. The interrogators could not
understand why these three men would randomly choose Ahmet and Oruç and accuse
them if they did not have known each other before. Moreover, some of the robbers
50 Ibid.
51 Ibid.
371
described in detail the outlooks of both Ahmet and Oruç, their houses, and their horses.
All robbers, for example, agreed that Oruç rode a black horse. Moreover, Ahmet also
testified that his brother Oruç rode a black horse which he had bought from a certain
Feyzi Agha a year ago. Thus, Ahmet unknowingly verifed the robbers’ testimony against
his brother. Furthermore, according to Ahmet, his brother Oruç was innocent because he
was at home when the robbery of the postal caravan took place. Oruç also rejected
stopping by at Zirgan where he allegedly had run into the robbers according to the seven
felons’ testimony.52
Ahmet and Oruç, however, admitted they knew Iranian Hussein whom the robbers
met in Erzurum as will be narrated below; but they refused to give specific information
about the khan in which he stayed. Oruç rejected to have been in Erzurum recently. On
the contrary, it was several months ago when he had last seen Iranian Hussein when they
stayed together in a room for only two nights. Therefore, Hussein could not remember the
name of the khan; all he could do was to describe where the khan was in Erzurum.53
Later, Revanlı Hussein would change his first testimony in order to protect the
brothers and claim that neither Ahmet nor Oruç had told him or his friends anything
about Iranian Hussein or the robbery of the postal caravan. However, the other six
robbers continued to testify against Revanlı Hussein and argued that it was Ahmet and
Oruç who gave him the idea of robbing the caravan. Moreover, they previously knew
52 Ibid.
53 Ibid.
372
neither of the brothers; it was actually Revanlı Hussein who knew the siblings long
before the attack on the postal caravan.54
After Zirgan, the robbers directly went to Erzurum with Oruç accompanying
them. Revanlı Hussein, Kerim, and Zeynelabidin were the first ones to arrive in the city
in late afternoon. The rest remained in Korucuk Village (in Pasinler district) where they
spent an extra night.55 The robbers’ stay in Erzurum points out some very interesting
aspects of this exciting story. Accordingly, it was not only the innkeepers who carried
vital information to the robbers to help them plan attacks on caravans. In addition to
khans, another public space which the robbers frequently visited and which was
frequently mentioned in the detailed testimonies of the robbers was the marketplace.
For example, initially, Revanlı Hussein lied about what they did in Erzurum
during the interrogation. Accordingly, he made up a story in which he met with a certain
Armenian called Lasis from Aydere in the city’s marketplace where he went to buy food
supplies for their horses. Supposedly, Hussein had met Lasis previously in Yerevan
before the latter left the city a month ago in order to go to Erzurum. Together with
Hussein, Lasis went to the robbers’ room in Kapan Khan where he talked to them about a
merchant’s caravan. Lasis suggested robbing the caravan together. The next morning,
Arap, Abbas, Mehmet Taki, and Mehmet showed up. Arap feared remaining in Kapan
Khan because he thought that somebody might recognize him. Therefore, without
stopping in Erzurum, the four felons went directly to a nearby village. Supposedly, a few
hours later, Revanlı Hussein, Kerim, and Zeynelabidin joined them in the village where
54 Ibid.
55 Ibid.
373
they spent the night all together. So, according to Revanlı Hussein’s first testimony, the
felons had spent only one night in Erzurum.56
In reality however, the robbers spent three days in Erzurum. Revanlı Hussein
initially lied in order to protect Iranian Hussein who gave them specific information
about the postal caravan. In Erzurum, Iranian Hussein stayed in a room in Dervish Agha
Khan. One morning while drinking tea with his friends, the robbers entered the khan. The
robbers first pretended to be cameleers from Yerevan in order to hide their real identity
from the other guests who stayed in Dervish Khan. Supposedly, they were in Erzurum to
sell the rice which was loaded to their sixty camels.57 It is interesting that the robbers
made use of both their and other social group’s mobility. Apparently, thanks to their
itinerant character, it was very easy for the robbers to pretend to be cameleers whereas it
was impossible for the guests of the khan to differentiate between highway robbers and
cameleers because of their common characteristics like mobility.
Since there was not enough space for all the robbers (and supposedly for their
camels) in Dervish Khan, Hussein ordered one of his attendants to show the bandits some
other possible places to stay. Initially, the robbers did not want to stay somewhere else;
but eventually they found room in a certain plasterer (alçıcı) Mehdi’s house across the
city’s graveyard. The felons showed Mehdi the money they stole from the cavalier on
their way to Erzurum and thus convinced him to believe that they were merchants. While
56 Ibid.
57 Ibid.
374
Abbas, Kerim, Zeynelabidin, Mehmet Taki, and Mehmet spent the night at Mehdi’s
place, Revanlı Hussein and Arap stayed with Iranian Hussein in Dervish Khan.58
In Erzurum, the robbers made preparations for the attack. Kerim bought bullets
and gunpowder in the marketplace. It is interesting to note that he could do the purchase
without getting into any trouble. Most likely, the robbers had connections in the bazaar as
well. In the meantime, Revanlı Hussein and Arap planned with Iranian Hussein the
details of the robbery. Later during the interrogation, Iranian Hussein refused to be
involved in the robbery. According to his testimony, he knew the felons because he had a
business exchange with them. Supposedly, he had bought the horse that the bandits had
actually pillaged from the cavalier a few days ago on their way from Bayezid to Eleşkirt.
After gathering the money required to pay for the price of the horse, Iranian Hussein
claimed to have found the robbers in Mehdi’s house. Later, he sold the horse to a certain
gendarmerie Ali Agha for a colt and 1.5 liras.59
In the evening of their third day in the city, the robbers left Erzurum. Mehdi was
curious why his guests preferred to depart in the dark; but the robbers could not satisfy
him with a reliable answer. First, the felons passed Ilıca, and then spent the night in a
village on their way. Next day, they arrived in Köşepınar and stayed there for the night.
In the morning, they left for Zaza Khan where they stopped for lunch at noon. There, the
robbers waited for the postal caravan to approach. Meanwhile, the innkeeper was making
preparations for the upcoming caravan and wanted to know whether the robbers would
stay in his khan because he did not want to run out off supplies when the caravan showed
58 Ibid.
59 Ibid.
375
up. The robbers told him that they planned to stay there only for a short while. After two
hours, they left the khan three hours before sunset.60
Immediately after they left the khan, the robbers came across twenty seasonal
workers from Van who were afraid of the robbers and went out of their way in order to
let them pass without causing any trouble between the two groups. Meanwhile, the gang
disagreed about the timing of the attack. Arap thought that they could be easily caught if
they robbed the caravan now. Therefore, Arap offered his fellows to either postpone the
attack or plunder a private carrier; but Zeynelabidin and Mehmet Taki called him a
coward. Therefore, the robbers decided to stick to their original plan.61
Following Iranian Hussein’s instructions, seven fellows hid at Masad Dere and
attacked the caravan while it passed by two and a half hours before the sunset. During the
incident, the postmen and the gendarmeries who accompanied the caravan did not
counterattack the robbers. Both the postmen and the gendarmeries voluntarily
surrendered and opened the bags, offering the money to the bandits without hesitation.
Only Abbas slightly wounded the hand of a gendarmerie.62
The caravan was carrying 2,399 liras. 986 liras belonged to the merchants and
other civilians whereas the rest belonged to the central treasury. Additionally, there was a
ring which was 10 liras worth. The robbers could not carry all the money; so they left
596.5 liras on the crime scene. They loaded the rest of the money to three horses which
belonged to the postmen. Additionally, Revanlı Hussein beat one of the postmen in order
60 Ibid.
61 Ibid.
62 Ibid.
376
to confiscate his silver watch. Hussein was slightly wounded at his arm when the
postman initially resisted. Mehmet Taki also stole two watches. After tying the postmen
and the gendarmeries, the robbers left the crime scene and headed towards Eleşkirt. On
their way, they started arguing about who else confiscated extra booty such as the
watches. The seven fellows considered stopping and searching each other’s bodies; but
they were afraid to be caught in the meantime.63
By the time the robbers arrived back at Zazalar Khan, it was already dark outside.
In order not to be seen, they passed by the backyard of the khan without stopping there.
They also chose to pass through the graveyard in Köşepınar in order not to be detected.
Similarly after Ilıca, they passed through the outskirts of Erzurum. After Erzurum, the
robbers discussed where to go. Some suggested to take the road to Van whereas others
preferred heading towards Bitlis. Since both routes were dangerous, the robbers decided
to continue to Bayezid.64
After Deveboynu, the robbers stopped in late morning at a mill near a village
where they first fed their horses and then distributed some of the stolen money among
themselves. The robbers divided the money into eight parts which were roughly equal.
Since they were in hurry, the robbers were not able to count all the money precisely.
They split their ill-gotten gains into eight parts because one eighth of the whole booty
belonged to Iranian Hussein who gave the robbers instructions and information about the
63 Ibid.
64 Ibid.
377
caravan. Revanlı Hussein kept Iranian Hussein’s share in order to give it to him later.
Each of the robbers obtained approximately 150 gold coins and 150 kaimes.65
Next morning, the robbers arrived in Pasinler. Near Delibaba Village, they came
across an Iranian caravan which was headed towards Erzurum. With the caravan, Revanlı
Hussein sent a message to Iranian Hussein –who was still in Erzurum- that their mission
was accomplished. After Delibaba, the robbers encountered another caravan. They
bought from the caravan some supplies like tea, sugar, and biscuit. These exchanges of
both information and goods between the robbers and the caravans, again, suggests to
what extent they made use of mobility. At Çat Pass, the robbers stopped and divided the
rest of the money. Here, an argument took place between Kerim and Arap. Kerim
accused Arap of cutting his share. In the end, Kerim received only 100 gold coins
whereas Arap took 150 coins.66
In late afternoon, three Kurdish sheppards came across the robbers and were
immediately suspicious. Since Kerim knew Kurdish, he understood what the shepherds
were talking about them. Kerim tried to convince the shepherds that they were only
hunters. The robbers also bought a sheep from the shepherds for forty-seven piasters.
Even though Kerim feared waiting there further and preferred they continue immediately,
Mehmet convinced the others to rest for a while and started slaughtering the sheep for
dinner.67 The laxity of Mehmet suggests the comfort and ease with which the robbers
moved in “their” environment. To some extent, the surrounding region camouflaged them
65 Ibid. Kaimes were Ottoman banknotes, but the document does not specify their value.
66 Ibid.
67 Ibid.
378
so that they could easily pretend to be hunters, cameleers, or merchants. What was
common about all of these three groups of people was, again, their mobility.
The robbers arrived in Zirgan two hours before dawn. With their horses
exhausted, Kerim, Mehmet Taki, and Mehmet exchanged them with those of a Christian
man. They gave the man an additional amount of twelve mecidiyes68 since his horses
were much healthier than theirs. The robbers spent the night in the house of an Armenian
at Zirgan. In his first testimony, Revanlı Hussein claimed that Lasis was also in the
house, waiting for the arrival of his partners in crime. Supposedly, the robbers would give
Lasis his share of 200 kaimes and 150 gold coins there in Zirgan. Of course, in his second
testimony, Revanlı Hussein cut this part of the information that he provided to the
interrogators in his first testimony since there was no man called Lasis in reality at all.69
In Zirgan, the felons split into two groups since they did not want to cause
suspicion. Kerim, Arap, Zeynelabidin, Mehmet Taki, and Mehmet went towards
Korucuk. By the time they arrived in Taşlıçay Village, it was already dark outside.
Without entering the town center, the robbers found a man and asked him to bring them
some barley. The man warned the robbers that there were gendarmeries in the village
searching for some villains who had pillaged a postal caravan. The felons immediately
left the village. Near Üçkilise, they saw a fire along the road and realized that it belonged
to a caravan spending the night on its way. Mehmet Taki and Zeynelabidin asked the
caravan for some biscuit. While the robbers were about to arrive in Kızılvize, Kerim’s
68 One mecidiye equaled twenty piasters. See Parlatır, Osmanlı Türkçesi Sözlüğü.
69 PMOA, I.DA 5/77, 19 Muharrem 1286 (1 May 1869)
379
horse was so exhausted that he needed to unload it. Kerim temporarily gave his share to
Arap.70
In the meantime, Gendarmerie Captain Hacı Agha had heard that the felons were
seen in Zirgan and immediately informed a certain Mehmet Pasha who, together with his
four sons, was exchanging greetings with 30-40 cavaliers for the Eid at the moment.
Thus, four days after the robbery on April 15th 1867, Mehmet Pasha, Hacı Agha, and the
cavaliers started chasing the robbers. At 11 am in the next morning, they arrived in
Suleiman Village, but there was no sign of the robbers. The officials continued their way
in order to search for the criminals in the area near Bayezid and along the Iranian border.
Authorities feared the criminals would pass the border and then cover their tracks. Şerif
Effendi, a member of Bayezid sub-provincial assembly, also joined the search. In the
meantime, Ahmet Agha from Virecik, a member of Bayezid assembly, searched for
Revanlı Hussein and Abbas near Eleşkirt and Mosi Agha was looking for them near
Karabulak.71
After separating from their friends in Zirgan, Revanlı Hussein and Abbas headed
towards Şamiyan Village where Revanlı Hussein stayed in the house of Baku. Baku was
in Bayezid at the time; but his daughter Hayale hosted the robbers. Soon, the news of the
robbery reached the village. Thus, people started getting suspicious of Revanlı Hussein
who had identified himself as a cameleer. In order to convince the villagers about his
70 Ibid.
71 Ibid.
380
innocence, Hussein surrendered his gun. Meanwhile, he also consigned to Hayale both
his and Abbas’ share and the silver watch that he had stolen from one of the postmen.72
Baku’s daughter Hayale who was twenty years old put the money into two socks
and a black purse and helped Revanlı Hussein hide them in the barn. Ali, the son of
Baku’s uncle, was also there while they buried the socks and the purse. There were
approximately 180 mecidiyes in the sock and 10 liras in the purse. Before giving the
money to Hayale, Hussein took forty mecidiyes out. While he kept two mecidiyes for
himself, he supposedly gave the rest (thirty-eight mecidiyes) to Ali from Toprakkale, the
attendant of Mehmet Pasha, who promised to help him escape. Later, Hussein blamed Ali
for confiscating the money that he was carrying while he was arrested; but Ali denied the
accusations.73
Once the news of the robbery reached Şamiyan, Mustafa, the village’s elderly
(köyün en sakallısı), immediately took Revanlı Hussein into custody. Next morning,
Abdullah Bey’s attendant Hassan came to arrest Hussein. Abdullah Bey was the son of
Mehmet Pasha who led the search for the fugitives. During the arrest, there was a clash
between Hassan and Hussein so that the former had to hit the robber at his head with a
stick. Meanwhile, Hayale reburied some of the gold into the ruins of a building when
officials started searching the houses in the village.74
Osman Bey, a member of Erzurum provincial assembly, tricked Revanlı Hussein
to believe that he would help him escape if Hussein talked about the whereabouts of the
72 Ibid.
73 Ibid.
74 Ibid.
381
stolen money and gave Osman Bey a certain amount of his share. Another Osman, a
certain Abdi’s son, was also part of this plot. Accordingly, Osman brought Revanlı
Hussein to Baku’s barn where Hussein dug the locations where Hayale had hidden the
socks and the purse. Hussein could find only the purse and one of the socks, but not the
other sock. There were only 121 mecidiyes in the sock even though it was almost full
when Revanlı Hussein surrendered it to Hayale.75
In total, authorities secured from Revanlı Hussein 20 liras, the silver watch of the
postman, and some sword straps (kılıç kayışı numuneleri) which the postal caravan
carried. According to Hussein, the rest of the money remained under the possession of
Hayale or her brothers who might have later learned about the robbery from her. In turn,
Hayale accused Peri Hatun, the wife of the village’s elderly Mustafa, who had seen her
reburying the gold in the ruins. Therefore, Hayale accused Peri of stealing the gold as
Peri was the only one who knew where it was. Peri rejected the accusations. She thought
that Hayale accused her of stealing the money because she wanted to take revenge on her
husband. According to Peri, when her husband Mustafa caught Revanlı Hussein, he had
disturbed Hayale’s plans of confiscating the postal caravan’s money. As a matter of fact,
even before authorities showed up in Şamiyan, Hayale had personally asked Mustafa to
let Revanlı Hussein go. When Mustafa rejected Hayale’s offer, she threatened them and
told them that they would regret this decision.76
Meanwhile, Peri hosted five gendarmeries who came to the village to investigate
the robbery. Her children brought Peri news about what was going on in the village.
75 Ibid.
76 Ibid.
382
According to the children, Osman Bey had started beating Hayale in order to make her
confess the whereabouts of the hidden money. According to Hayale’s mother Huri, her
daughter did not know that the money was stolen from the postal caravan. Instead,
Hayale thought that Revanlı Hussein had earned the money from selling his horses.
While Hayale remained silent about the money even when Osman Bey hit her, Huri let
the commander know where the money was because she did not want her daughter suffer
any longer. But authorities could not locate the money where she told it was.77
The role that Hayale played in this event makes it even more interesting. First of
all, it adds up a gendered perspective to the story. It is noteworthy that a woman living in
a small Ottoman village could have ties with a highway robber which lived in northern
Iran. This also displays the extent of the support the highway robbers received from the
local population. It was not only males like innkeepers who harbored and informed the
robbers, but also women were courageous enough to explicitly help and shelter them.
Meanwhile, officials also suspected Osman, Abdi’s son, who might have stolen
the missing sock. Finally, Osman Bey, Osman, and Gendarmerie Sergeant Ahmet left
Şamiyan in order to take Revanlı Hussein to Erzurum. Before they took off, Osman
separated from the rest and spent an extra night in his home. After three days on the road,
they all arrived in Bayezid. At Hasankale, Osman Bey started questioning Osman about
the missing sock. Initially, Osman made up the story that Revanlı Hussein had given him
at Kızılcapınar some 13.5 mecidiyes which he had secretly confiscated in the barn while
they were still in Şamiyan. Supposedly, Hussein feared officials would check his pockets
when they arrived in Erzurum and thus find the money. In turn, Osman surrendered the
77 Ibid.
383
13.5 mecidiyes to Sergeant Ahmet. Osman Bey, however, did not believe Osman and
accused him of collaborating with Revanlı Hussein and stealing the 13.5 mecidiyes
because he did not tell his superior anything about the money before he was asked.
Osman defended himself by saying that Osman Bey did not ask him specifically whether
he carried any money that the robbers had stolen from the caravan.78
Later, Osman confessed that he had stolen 26 mecidiyes from the sock while they
were in the barn at Şamiyan. He gave the money to Sergeant Ahmet who carried Osman’s
tobacco and shoes because he did not have a bag of his own. The sergeant was curios
about where the money came from; but Osman told him only that it was not stolen from
the postal caravan. At Bayezid in a certain Muş Agha’s house where they spent the night
on their way to Erzurum, Osman took 13.5 mecidiyes out of 26 and left the other half
with Ahmet.79 It is remarkable that Ottoman officials became involved in this criminal
activity as well. Even though there is no explicit collaboration between the highway
robbers and authorities in this specific case, it is clear that at least some officials took
advantage of the situation. They tried to derive personal benefit from the case and get
around its ambiguities.
Finally, authorities brought Revanlı Hussein to Toprakkale where Osman Bey
interrogated him. Initially, Hussein rejected the accusations; but later, he confessed his
involvement in the robbery. Soon, Gendarmerie Captain Hacı also caught Kerim near his
hometown Geçit Village in Maku. Kerim immediately confessed where his share was;
but some of the amount was missing because Arap had confiscated some part of his share
78 Ibid.
79 Ibid.
384
when he was carrying the load of Kerim’s exhausted horse. Captain Hacı found the
money and surrendered it to Abdullah Bey, Mehmet Pasha’s son. Two weeks after the
robbery, Arap, Mehmet Taki, Mehmet, and Zeynelabidin were also caught in Iran. While
30-40 cavaliers searched for Zeynelabidin in Maku, they accidentally caught at Kapas
Village Mehmet and Mehmet Taki who were believed to be in Tabriz. All three were
taken first to Maku where they rejected the accusations. Later, they were brought to
Bayezid for interrogation.80
Authorities retrieved from Kerim, Arap, Mehmet Taki, Mehmet, and Zeynelabidin
300 liras in total. When he was taken into custody, Zeynelabidin was under the patronage
of a certain Murat Sultan in Khoy. Zeynelabidin had given his share to his brother Mehdi
Agha in a certain Pir Ahmet’s house in Kazlıgöl Village. Mehmet Pasha secured all the
money because Zeynelabidin did not have the chance to spend any of it. Mehmet and
Mehmet Taki had also left a certain amount of their share in a certain Hassan’s house in
the same village. They submitted the ring and the rest of their share (three hundred
kaimes and three hundred gold coins) to Aide (Yaver) Ali Sultan upon their arrest. In
addition to the eleven mecidiyes they spent in Zirgan in order to buy two new horses,
Mehmet Taki had also secretly given some money from his share to the gendarmerie
whom Abbas had wounded during the robbery. Officials confiscated also Mehmet and
Mehmet Taki’s horses after their arrest.81
Arap was arrested in his hometown Harami Village by Abdülhamit Agha, an
attendant of Abdülkerim Khan who was the representative of Ovacık (Ovacık Halkı
80 Ibid.
81 Ibid.
385
Vekili). Abdülkerim had mobilized and organized his relatives into two groups which
looked for the felons upon the Ottoman government’s request. During the arrest,
Abdülkerim was resting in Maku because his horse was exhausted due to the search
which took several days. Upon Arap’s arrest, Captain Hacı Bey, Abdullah Bey, and Omar
Agha from Adaman immediately left Erzurum in order to go to Harami Village and bring
Arap back to the Ottoman Empire for the interrogation.82
Authorities searched Arap’s house, but could not find the money. Arap initially
refused to tell where it was; but later he confessed the whereabouts of his share. Since it
was already 10 pm at night, authorities decided not to return to Harami Village to take the
money back. Instead, they asked two Iranian cavaliers to receive it from Arap’s father.
Arap’s share was 50 liras, 47 gold coins (he had spent 3 mecidiyes on his way to Harami
Village) and 150 kaimes in total. He had given the money to his mother. Arap promised
to retrieve the money by sending a letter to his mother and let her send it back to him via
a certain Kerim Khan –if his father refused to give the money back to the Ottoman
authorities.83
In the meantime, officials made some wrongful arrests, believing that they had
actually caught the postal caravan robbers. The governor of Çıldır district arrested on
Ispir road six suspects who wore military uniforms and carried golden and silver
mecidiyes in their bags; but one of the suspects was actually a colonel. In addition to their
concern about catching the robbers, authorities were also worried about the financial
burden of the robbery on the Ottoman treasury. Erzurum’s governor Ismail Hakkı
82 Ibid.
83 Ibid.
386
believed Revanlı Hussein and Abbas should have stolen more money than what they had
already surrendered. The governor suggested demanding the rest which amounted to
1,600 liras from the Iranian government. Iranians agreed to return 50 liras and 500 kaimes
which still remained under the possession of Pir Ahmet in Kazlıgöl Village. Whereas
authorities recovered almost 59 liras when they caught the felons in 1867, 150-160 liras
was still missing by 1869. This included 260 and 38 gold coins that Revanlı Hussein gave
to Hayale and Ali respectively, 47 gold coins and 150 kaimes that Arap submitted to his
mother in Harami Village in Iran, and 13.5 mecidiyes that Osman lifted.84
In the end, all seven robbers pled guilty and Revanlı Hussein and Arap were
found guilty on first degree, Abbas on second degree, and Mehmet Taki, Mehmet, Kerim,
and Zeynelabidin on third degree. According to the sixty-second article of the Criminal
Code, Revanlı Hussein and Arap were sentenced to death and Abbas to life-long penal
servitude according to the code’s nineteenth article. The court sentenced the rest to hard
labor for fifteen years in Erzurum according to the sixty-third article. In addition, Iranian
Hussein who harbored (yataklık etmek) the robbers was convicted to ten years of penal
servitude in Erzurum. Hayale who hid some of the stolen money was imprisoned for five
years in the women’s jail in Erzurum.85
Last but not least, Gendarmerie Ahmet who tried to steal 13.5 mecidiyes was
condemned to a year. The 230th article of the Penal Code sentenced anyone, who
committed petty offences like pick-pocketing, to 3-12 months of imprisonment. The fact
that Ahmet was on duty while he committed the crime constituted an aggravated
84 Ibid.
85 Ibid.
387
circumstance so that he was convicted to the harshest punishment which was a year. Last
but not least, according to the eighty-second article of the code, Ahmet was suspended
from office. Therefore, upon his release, he was supposed to find a guarantor and live
under his assurance.86
By 1869, authorities were still not sure whether Brothers Ahmet and Oruç (who
stood accused of harboring the robbers) and Osman (who was blamed for stealing 13.5
mecidiyes) were guilty or not. Only Revanlı Hussein, Abbas, and Kerim testified against
Ahmet and Oruç whereas the other four robbers rejected knowing at least Ahmet.
Therefore, the case remained unsolved in 1869. Since some of the suspects and witnesses
did not know Ottoman Turkish, authorities needed the help of translators during the
interrogation, which further delayed reaching a safe conclusion.87
Finally, Osman confessed his crime and was sentenced to five years of hard labor.
Last but not least, Ali who allegedly took thirty-eight gold coins from Revanlı Hussein in
order to help him escape was released because there was no evidence against him apart
from Hussein’s testimony. Ali defended himself by saying that Hussein accused him only
to take revenge from Ali’s brother Hassan who had wounded Revanlı Hussein in his head
in order to capture him in Şamiyan –after Huri’s husband Mustafa had taken Hussein into
custody.88
In the meantime, the convicted stirred trouble in the prison. Initially, the prisoners
housed in Erzurum citadel; but later they were transferred to a stone inn. The inn was not
86 Ibid.
87 Ibid.
88 Ibid.
388
secure enough to keep the felons under control; even the military could not secure the
building. Therefore, Erzurum’s governor Mehmet Reşit demanded the renovation of the
inn; but this would take a long time. In the meantime, on September 26th 1868, the
robbers organized a jailbreak with other prisoners. Consequently, Erzurum’s new
governor Ismail Hakkı wanted the execution of Revanlı Hussein and Arap to take place
immediately in Erzurum. Ismail Hakkı thought that their execution would serve a lesson
to the tribal members who took part in banditry as well. Ismail Hakkı requested the other
criminals to be transferred to the Imperial Arsenal where they would serve the rest of
their time.89
In his final report about the incident, Erzurum’s governor accused the well-known
bandit Esad from Yerevan and Ovacık’s governor (hakim) Agha Rahim as the prime
movers of the robbery. Esad, who was a relative of Rahim, had previously attacked
Bagdad and Russian postal services several times. The former governor of Ocavık had
patronized Esad until the Russians were finally able to convince Iran to exile the
governor to Tehran. Supposedly, the governor had died in exile; but the Iranian
government made the “mistake” of assigning his brother Agha Rahim as the new
governor of Ovacık.90
During his reign, Rahim took Kazlı Village91 –which was right at the border
between the Ottoman Empire and Iran- under his control and caused the death of an
89 Ibid.
90 Ibid.
91 For further information on how this village was a cause of conflict between the Ottoman and Qajar
Empires see Ateş, 276-78.
389
Ottoman subject during the seizure. The Ottoman government refused to counterattack
Rahim and did not even care to follow the law suit that the inheritors of the deceased man
filed. Erzurum’s governor thought that the Ottoman government’s apathy encouraged
Rahim to escalate his attacks which ultimately culminated in the robbery of the postal
caravan. The governor demanded the Iranians to immediately surrender Esad to Ottoman
authorities and stop trespassing into Ottoman territory.92
In this context, the details of this case are important for the general narrative of
this dissertation for several reasons. First, it is worth highlighting the well-established
connections between the Ottoman Northeast, northern Iran, and Russian Caucasia. As it
is obvious in the details provided by the testimony of the highway robbers, bandits were
an itinerant group which was easily floating within the “boundaries” of the region. The
robbers had a certain place to stay almost in every village they passed through both
before and after the attack. In other words, they had extensive knowledge of the local
geography. Second, they made use of their mobility and hid their identity by pretending
to be cameleers, merchants, or hunters –three other groups which were constantly on the
move on roads just like the highway robbers. Therefore, robbers felt very comfortable in
places like the marketplace or bazaar where they had to get supplies such as gunpowder
and weapons. Last but not least, they had informants within the local population, like the
innkeepers who provided them with invaluable information on the caravans or like
Hayale who provided them with shelter.
Thus, highway robbers received local support from the population of the
surrounding region. This local support, however, should not lead us to conclude that the
92 PMOA, I.DA 5/77, 19 Muharrem 1286 (1 May 1869)
390
highway robbers were social bandits in a “Hobsbawmian” sense. Even though they were
members of the lower strata, they did not steal from the rich in order to redistribute
wealth among the poor. On the contrary, they were patronized by the local notables of
northern Iranian provinces such as Maku, Ovacık, and Khoy. One question that begs an
answer is the nature of the relationship between the local power holders and the robbers.
What was the deal between the two groups? What percentage of their share did the
robbers have to surrender to the notables, if any? If there was no specific agreement on
the amount to be shared between the two groups, then why did the notables provide the
robbers with protection? These are questions that unfortunately cannot be answered
within the context of this dissertation which specifically deals with the Trabzon-Bayezid
road on which highway robbers were very active and visible. Still, these questions put
forward the regional framework within which the road existed.
Conclusion:
Between 1850s and 1870s, Trabzon-Bayezid road witnessed several robberies
carried out by men coming from very different socio-economic and ethnic backgrounds.
First of all, highway robbers were a very active and mobile group. Some were Russian
citizens living in Yerevan or Iranian citizens from Maku. Others were Ottoman subjects
from places which were actually not located on the Trabzon-Bayezid road. Moreover,
Ottoman, Iranian, and Russian robbers occasionally cooperated. Sometimes, they formed
gangs and robbed caravans together as the robbery of the postal service in Erzurum in
1867 clearly shows.
391
This demonstrates the extent to which the Trabzon-Bayezid road was embedded
in a trans-imperial region which was shared by the subjects of Ottoman, Qajar, and
Russian Empires. Thomas Stevens, for example, observes how the storytellers of the
region wore “a Turkish fez, a Persian coat, and a Russian metallic-faced belt” in order to
address the “mixed nationality”93 of their audience. Mary Mills Patrick who lived in
Erzurum for four years from 1871 to 1875 similarly reports that the region contained a
“floating public of Arabs, Kurds, and Russians.” “The isolation from the rest of the
world,” she continued, “was difficult, yet it was not so complete as it might seem. A
surprising number of travelers visited those distant regions.”94 Also the Handbook for
Travelers notes the fluidity of “borders” between the Ottoman, Russian, and Qajar
Empires when it recommended its readers to make the necessary arrangements for
climbing up the Ararat Mountain in Bayezid even though the Treaty of Berlin had
assigned the mountain to Russia and the town of Bayezid to the Ottomans.95
The heterogeneity of the highway robbers was not limited to their diverse ethnic
backgrounds. Some robbers came from lower classes and had turned highway robbery
into a “profession” or “craft” which they inherited from their fathers. While some
highway robbers were members of tribes such as the Celalis, others worked under the
patronage of local power holders such as Ottoman officials (as in the case of the müdür in
Kars) or Iranian notables in northern Persia. Robbers’ ties extended as far as Tbilisi and
Gyumri in the north, Yerevan in the east, and Bitlis and Van in the south.
93 Stevens, 422.
94 Patrick, 23, 51.
95 Handbook for Travelers in Turkey in Asia Including Constantinople, 404.
392
In response to this wide regional network, Ottoman officials asked for help from a
variety of sources including local notables who helped the state pursue and apprehend the
robbers. Sometimes, the Iranian government also worked in collaboration with the
Ottomans. In the early 1850s, the Ottoman state focused on the financial problems caused
by highway robbery and accused local authorities for their failure to secure the road.
Later, officials started thinking of long-term preventive measures such as insuring postal
packages. Meanwhile, they tried to constantly reinforce their military presence along the
road in order to secure the region. As a result of these policies, Trabzon-Bayezid road
remained a relatively safe route until the early 1890s when the region became one of the
most dangerous places to travel in the Ottoman Empire –as will be discussed in the next
chapter. Before we move on however, there is one final issue which needs to be
addressed.
During the two decades between 1870 and 1890, the number of robberies seems to
have declined on the Trabzon-Bayezid road. Of course, there may be undiscovered
sources in the archives but works produced by European travelers also attest to the fact
that the pre-1890 period was relatively peaceful. Alexander MacDonald wrote in 1891
that “up till the summer of 1890 this part of the Villayet [plains of Erzeroum] had not
been invaded by these [Koordish] robbers. . . . These brigands, originally Koords, now
include amongst them a large number of Lazes and Tcherkesses who emigrated from
their country when it was annexed to Russia in 1878.”96 Thus, the uprooted Caucasian
migrants who flooded the Ottoman East may have engaged in highway robbery, thus
increasing the number of potential bandits in the 1890s. If MacDonald’s words are to be
96 MacDonald, 97, 144.
393
taken for granted, then, the Kurdish tribes might have extended their area of influence
thanks to the reinforcement of these migrants. Of course, another factor which
contributed to the regional dominance of the Kurdish tribes and their involvement in
banditry was the establishment of the Hamidiye Regiments in 1891 by Sultan Abdulhamit
II –an issue which will be discussed in detail in the next chapter.
Before the decline in highway robbery in the 1870s, there was a more or less
profitable Iranian transit trade passing through the Trabzon-Bayezid road. However, the
Ottoman treasury’s revenue from this source started to decline in the early 1870s. By
1880, the volume of the transit trade was four times less compared to what it was in
1870.97 Moreover, in 1878, the value of the Iranian transit trade imports and exports
amounted to £1,253,647 and £598,073 respectively whereas they were £3,750,529 and
£1,280,794 in 1858.98 Meanwhile, during the 1870s, the Ottoman Empire suffered also
from a general fiscal crisis which resulted in the bankruptcy of the imperial treasury in
1875 and the establishment of the Ottoman Public Debt Administration in 1881.
Finally, the Russo-Ottoman War of 1877-1878 had a long-lasting destructive
impact on the economy of Eastern Anatolia at large and disrupted commercial activities
to a great extent.99 For example, the land post was entirely suspended. All pack animals
were reserved for the transportation of military goods and weapons. The majority of these
animals were dead by the end of the war; a fact which prolonged the war’s negative
97 “Report by Vice-Consul Eyre on the Trade and Commerce of Erzeroum for the Year 1883” in Reports
from her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, and etc. of their Consular Districts, Part X,
no. 32, London, August 1883, p. 1749
98 Norman, 14.
99 Ateş also notes the decline in trade following the Russo-Ottoman War of 1877-1878. Ateş, 334.
394
impact on commercial relations. Due to the shortage of animals, merchants could not
transport their goods in the post-war period. Last but not least, the prices of fodder
skyrocketed. The price of barley, for example, quadrupled and the price of fodder
increased ten times. Hence, Iranian trade shifted from Trabzon to the Bagdad route.100
Moreover, the Bagdad route retained this increase in traffic in the post-war period thanks
to the construction of new roads in southern Iran.101
The war correspondent of the Daily News confirms the sharp increase in the cost
of living in the region: “The prices of everything have risen nearly 100 percent during the
past month, and firewood is likely to be still dearer, as a much smaller quantity than usual
was brought in by the natives in autumn. Barley also is very scarce, and the cavalry
horses already show signs of hard work and little fare.”102 Moreover, Alexander Innes
Shand (the biographer of the British General Sir Edward Bruce Hamley who
commissioned the delimitation of the frontier between the Ottoman Empire and Russia)
notes that “the recent war [the 1877-1878 Russo-Ottoman War], with the strengthening of
the frontier garrisons, had done much to put down raiding and tribal feuds.”103 Finally,
100 “Report by Vice-Consul Biliotti on the Trade, Commerce, and Navigation of the Port and District of
Trebizond for the Years 1877-78” in Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce,
&c., of their Consular Districts, Part III, London: Harrison and Sons, June 1879, p. 1025-1027; “Report by
Consul Biliotti on the Trade, Commerce, and Navigation of the District of Trebizond for the Year 1879” in
Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of their Consular Districts,
Part V, London: Harrison and Sons, July 1880, p. 1447.
101 “Report by Consul Biliotti on the Trade and Commerce of the District of Trebizond for the Year 1884,”
in Reports from Her Majesty’s Consuls on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of Their Consular Districts,
Part IX, London: Harrison and Sons, August 1885, p. 1950.
102 The War Correspondence of the "Daily News", 424.
103 Alexander Innes Shand, The Life of General Sir Edward Bruce Hamley, vol. 2 (Edinburg and London:
William Blackwood and Sons, 1895), 10.
395
the Great Depression which lasted from 1873 to 1896 affected worldwide trade networks
negatively, thus decreasing the number of travelers on the Trabzon-Bayezid road and
rendering highway robbery unprofitable. For example, the number of passengers who
departed from Trabzon port to Istanbul was around 30,000 in 1867 whereas this number
declined by half in the 1870s.104
The disappearance of the robbers from the Trabzon-Bayezid road after 1870 and
their reappearance in the 1890s may be related to these economic factors. It is very likely
that highway robbery ceased to be a source of income when there were fewer merchants
moving goods on the road. Surely, only further research can clarify if the robbers ended
their criminal activities for good or if they continued to rob travelers in other parts of the
empire. Nevertheless, one fact is irrefutable: among the targets of highway robbers
between 1850s and 1870s were many Iranian transit trade merchants who used the
Trabzon-Bayezid road to transport their merchandise to Europe. Similarly, when the
robbers reappeared on the scene in the early 1890s, the road had already become an
important source of revenue thanks to the increase in domestic trade.105 This is the
subject matter of the next chapter.
104 Clay, 19
105 See the numbers provided in the previous chapter.
396
CHAPTER VII
SECURITY ON THE ROAD:
HIGHWAY ROBBERY – NON-STOP VIOLENCE (1890s-1910s)
Prisoners under the sun
Looking at the fall that is passing by
Pretty shanty towns and
Automobiles on the Samsun Highway
How nice it would be to be on the roads now
Scratches from Fall (Sonbahardan Çizgiler)
By Kemal Burkay1
Escalation of Violence:
In the 1890s, the security of the Trabzon-Bayezid road became one of the major
concerns of the Ottoman state. In order to give a sense of the frequency of the attacks on
travelers, the introductory section of this chapter will provide some examples from the
post-1890 period. Then, in the following sections, I will focus on specific cases in order
to contextualize the density of highway robbery with relation to some specific issues and
events. These individual cases will relate the problem of highway robbery to certain
modern state institutions like the gendarme and the newly established Ottoman army
based on universal conscription. Therefore, this chapter will suggest that only by
accepting highway robbery as an inherent element of the modernization process of the
Ottoman Empire can we explain the perpetuity of the problem.
1 Güneş altında tutsaklar, geçen sonbahara bakıyorlar, şirin mi şirin gecekondu evleri, Samsun asfaltında
otomobiller, ne güzeldir yollarda olmak şimdi.
397
In response to the persistence of highway robbery, officials were involved in legal
scandals where they accused innocent people. Sometimes, this legal inaptitude also
caused diplomatic tensions between the Ottoman state and its neighbors. Authorities were
afraid that highway robbers were collaborating with the local population. In turn, this
local support brought caravan operators from other states together with the locals of the
Ottoman Northeast. Hence, the regional framework within which highway robbery
functioned –as examined in the previous chapter- continued in the post-1890 period,
contributing to the survival of this problem until the collapse of the Ottoman Empire.
Given the insecurity of travelling on the Trabzon-Bayezid road in 1890, Iranian
muleteers wanted local authorities in Kızılvize to assign a few soldiers to accompany
them. Ottoman authorities rejected this request; and sadly the muleteers were attacked by
a group of bandits shortly after the caravan left the town. As a reaction, the Iranian consul
asked that the Ottoman Ministry of Foreign Affairs arrest and punish the criminals,
compensate the merchants’ loss, and provide better protection on the Trabzon-Bayezid
road.2 Only a few months later, highway robbers attacked another Iranian caravan
between Bayburt and Trabzon, and four merchants got wounded in the process.
Unfortunately, one of the wounded died later. Since the attackers wore Laz dresses,
authorities suspected them to be from the Sürmene region.3
One year later, at 3 o’clock on November 9th 1892, five highway robbers hit the
postal caravan near Tahir Village between Eleşkirt and Hasankale. After taking the
caravan under control, the robbers led it to the nearby Elmalı Stream. Kolağası Safer
2 PMOA, DH.MKT 1784/74, 12 Rebiyülahır 1308 (25 November 1890)
3 PMOA, DH.MKT 1849/84, 5 Zilhicce 1308 (12 July 1891)
398
Agha and the residents of Tahir Village followed the robbers, saved the postal packages,
and directed the caravan to their village. During the assault, Safer Agha’s left leg was
severely injured from a gunshot wound. He also lost one of his animals. The Ministry of
Telegraph and Postal Services filed an official complaint about the insufficiency of
gendarmerie forces that accompanied the postal caravans. In response, the Ottoman
government promoted Safer Agha.4 A similar event took place a few months later in
Diyadin where local notables Eyüp and Ismail Aghas helped the authorities reclaim
stolen goods and animals during a strike by bandits. In return for their service, the
Ottoman state promoted the aghas.5
In the correspondence between Istanbul and the provinces, the insufficient number
of the gendarmerie forces was regarded as the main cause of banditry. Governors
frequently demanded that the Ottoman military support the gendarmerie in their struggle
against criminals.6 Especially when smuggling became a chronic problem in the 1890s
and the first decade of the 1900s, it was clear that the gendarmerie forces were not
functioning properly to deal with this problem. However, Istanbul government constantly
rejected the provinces’ request for military support.
In order to understand the reasons for the Ottoman state’s refusal to provide
military support to the gendarmeries, we need to consider the context of the long
4 PMOA, DH.MKT 2020/37, 23 Rebiyülahır 1310 (14 November 1892); PMOA, DH.MKT 2021/31, 26
Rebiyülahır 1310 (17 November 1892); PMOA, DH.MKT 5/85, 9 Ramazan 1310 (27 March 1893)
5 PMOA, DH.MKT 3/21, 29 Şaban 1310 (18 March 1893)
6 The fact that the gendarmeries were ineffective against banditry was not a unique case in eastern Anatolia.
Çetinsaya notes that “the gendarmerie required the support of regular troops in such matters as tax
collection and suppression of brigandage” in Iraq as well. Gökhan Çetinsaya, Ottoman Administration of
Iraq, 1890-1908 (London & New York: Routledge, 2006), 25.
399
nineteenth century when the state tried to “demilitarize” the ways in which it
implemented security measures in the countryside and pass on the duty of providing
security from the army to the civilian police forces.7 In the case of Trabzon and Erzurum
provinces, the policies of the Fourth Army might be another reason for this refusal. Zeki
Pasha was the commander of the Fourth Army during most of the Hamidian period. He
was also one of the founders of the Hamidiye Regiments and, as Duguid argues, he
favored these Kurdish tribal leaders even when they were being tried in military courts
for various crimes, including highway robbery.8
Hamidiye Regiments were irregular cavalry corps established in 1891 by Sultan
Abdülhamit II in order to secure the eastern provinces of the empire and patrol the
Ottoman-Russian-Iranian frontier. Most members of these cavalry corps were Kurdish
tribesmen. Hamidiye Regiments operated directly under the authority of the Fourth
Army. This gave the regiments leverage to act autonomously and thus, created tension
between provincial governors and the regiments. The regiments were frequently accused
of abusing their power and getting involved in such corrupt acts as highway robbery,
banditry, and land occupation.9
Kodaman argues that this intimate relationship between Zeki Pasha and the
Regiments prevented provincial governors from attempting to take the tribes under
7 For more information see Nadir Özbek, "Policing the Countryside: Gendarmes of the Late-Nineteenth-
Century Ottoman Empire (1876-1908)," International Journal of Middle East Studies 40, no. 1 (2008); —
——, "Osmanlı Taşrasında Denetim: Son Dönem Osmanlı İmparatorluğu'nda Jandarma (1876-1908)," in
Tarihsel Perspektiften Türkiye'de Güvenlik Siyaseti, Ordu ve Devlet, ed. Evren Balta and Ismet Akça
(Istanbul: Istanbul Bilgi Üniversitesi Yayınları, 2010).
8 Stephen Duguid, "The Politics of Unity: Hamidian Policy in Eastern Anatolia," Middle Eastern Studies 9
(1973): 152.
9 For more information see Klein, The Margins of Empire.
400
control, and created an animosity between Zeki Pasha and the governors.10 Van
Bruinessen also mentions the patronage and protection that Zeki Pasha offered the
Hamidiye Regiments as a major factor of the “inordinate increase in their powers, leading
to unavoidable abuses.”11 Last but not least, McDowall refers to the “Zeki Pasha factor”
in giving tremendous autonomy to the Hamidiye Regiments –hence Kurdish tribes- vis-àvis
the local civil administration, in other words the provincial governments. Since Zeki
Pasha did not take orders from governors but directly from Istanbul, this gave the
Regiments leverage to operate outside the jurisdiction of the provincial authorities.12
In this context, Kurdish tribes were one of the main “suppliers” of banditry in the
post-1890 period when there was an escalation in violence on the Trabzon-Bayezid road.
In 1892 for example, Musa and his attendants who broke away from the Kotan subsection
of the Celali tribe and fled to Iran attacked several people between Bayezid and Diyadin.
They stole merchandise from four people from Zado Village in Eleşkirt; the rifle, cloths,
and fleece wool of Mehmet and his servants from Bayezid; and the animals and rifles of
gendarmerie Mehmet, a certain Ibrahim, and a woman from Eleşkirt.13
Since the Ottoman security forces could not prevent highway robbers, travelers
wanted to take matters into their own hands. First, all foreigners who lived or traveled
within Ottoman borders were given the right to carry guns. They only needed to take a
10 Bayram Kodaman, "Hamidiye Hafif Süvari Alayları (II. Abdülhamit ve Doğu Anadolu Aşiretleri),"
Istanbul Üniversitesi Edebiyat Fakültesi Tarih Dergisi, no. 32 (1979): 451.
11 Martin van Bruinessen, Agha, Shaikh and State: The Social and Political Structures of Kurdistan
(London & New Jersey: Zed Books, 1992), 185, 87.
12 McDowall, 60.
13 PMOA, DH.MKT 1977/69, 1 Muharrem 1310 (26 July 1892)
401
notice from their consuls and present it to the Ottoman government in order to get
permission to carry weapons. In this case, the consuls were considered as the guarantors
of foreigners. However, Bagdad and Erzurum provinces were reluctant to put this new
regulation into practice, which led Iranians file official complaints in Istanbul.14
One year later (1893), Mehmet Şerif and several other seasonal workers from
Bitlis wrote a petition asking that their licensed weapons, which had been confiscated by
the provincial government in Trabzon, be returned to them.15 As this case exemplifies, it
was not only foreigners who wanted to feel safe on roads; Ottoman subjects also wanted
to carry guns in order to secure themselves. Similarly in 1895, Ismail and his three
friends from Erzurum were leaving the city in order to sell their animals in Kürdistan and
in Iran. In order to protect their property as well as their own lives, Ismail and his friends
asked for permission to carry guns while they were travelling.16 Last but not least,
Monsieur James William and Johnny Thomson from England wanted to bear arms (a rifle
and a revolver) while they were travelling in Trabzon and Sivas provinces.17 This request
suggests that local governments must still have been reluctant to implement the
regulation which allowed foreigners to carry guns on Ottoman roads.
As different social groups continued to ask for permission to carry guns, the
assault on travelers also continued. In December 1894, robbers attacked the postal
caravan between Gümüşhane and Bayburt, and stole the official correspondence of the
14 PMOA, DH.MKT 2015/74, 5 Rebiyülahır 1310 (27 October 1892)
15 PMOA, BEO 257/19266, 3 Safer 1311 (16 August 1893)
16 PMOA, DH.MKT 361/63, 15 Şevval 1312 (11 April 1895)
17 PMOA, DH.MKT 387/23, 27 Zilhicce 1312 (21 June 1895)
402
Iranian consulate, as well as the documents and merchandise of Iranian merchants.
Authorities caught some of the suspects, but the rest escaped.18 Acts of violence
continued in Gümüşhane when Karapapaks19 from Erzurum started harassing travelers in
places as far as Hamsiköy and Zigana Mountain. The postal caravan was also prey to
highway robbers in 1895 between Gümüşhane and Bayburt. The governor of Gümüşhane
sub-province complained that the gendarmeries in the town were outnumbered by
highway robbers and had a hard time chasing them.20
Consequently, the governor of Gümüşhane requested the appointment of two
more itinerant cavalier squadrons on the Trabzon-Erzurum road. One of the squadrons
would monitor the road between Sepkor Village and Köseağı and the other would be
responsible for the section between Hasdak and Vavuk Mountains. The employment of
the cavaliers was necessary only for four months during the summer when traffic on the
Trabzon-Erzurum road was busiest. During this season, apart from the caravans, the
residents of the region also used the road frequently for travelling between their homes
and mountain pastures. Thus, not only people, but also their animals needed protection.21
The cavalier squad from Bayburt could supply the additional soldiers that
Gümüşhane needed. Alternatively, Trabzon could send twenty cavaliers to the region, but
there were only 800-900 soldiers in the provincial regiment. Besides the issue of who
18 PMOA, DH.MKT 317/6, 12 Cemaziyülahır 1312 (11 December 1894)
19 This was a Turkish tribe, but they were also organized as Hamidiye Regiments along with many Kurdish
tribes. See van Bruinessen, 185.
20 PMOA, DH.MKT 391/27, 6 Muharrem 1313 (29 June 1895); PMOA, BEO 661/49522, 6 Safer 1313 (29
July 1895); PMOA, BEO 662/49606, 8 Safer 1313 (31 July 1895); PMOA, DH.MKT 418/62, 5
Rebiyülevvel 1313 (26 August 1895)
21 Ibid.
403
would supply the extra twenty cavaliers that Gümüşhane needed, financing their
employment was also a problem. The construction budget (inşaat tertibi) of Trabzon
province, which was a total of 150 liras, could provide 90 liras for this purpose.
Alternatively, the budget of the gendarmerie could also make this amount available. As
authorities discussed these matters, a month and a half went by and there were still no
extra cavaliers policing Trabzon-Erzurum road by September 1895.22
Apart from the insufficiency of the gendarmerie forces, the quality of their
weapons was also of concern for Ottoman officials. Whereas both the bandits and the
gendarmerie of Canik and Erzurum sub-provinces used modern Martini or Mauser rifles,
Trabzon’s gendarmerie still carried old style weapons. Therefore, the provincial
government asked Istanbul to send thirty-four Martinis to the gendarmerie cordons in
Hamsiköy, Cevizlik, Zigana and Vavuk Mountain.23
While authorities discussed these matters, bandits once more hit the postal
caravan; this time at 4 am on September 9th 1895. The robbers hid in ditches along the
road, only three hundred steps away from Hazret Cordon and attacked the caravan shortly
after it passed through the cordon on its way to Trabzon. The robbers included twenty
men who wore Laz dresses and fired at the caravan with Martinis. There were clashes
between the robbers and the gendarmerie who normally accompanied the caravan as well
as the additional three squads of cavaliers who had been appointed by authorities in
Bayburt to support the gendarmerie in case of an attack. During the clashes which lasted
for two hours, the soldiers lost two animals, but secured the caravan and directed it to
22 Ibid.
23 Ibid.
404
Geçit Cordon in Gümüşhane. The robbers were able to escape because there were not
enough soldiers to continue the fight, but the soldiers requested additional forces from
Bayburt to chase the robbers.24
As the Trabzon-Bayezid road became more prone to attacks, Ottoman authorities
started showing some interest in identifying the ethnic background of the robbers. This is
in contrast with the earlier period when scribes rarely differentiated Ottoman highway
robbers by referencing their ethnicity. In the early 1890s however, Kurdish tribesmen and
“men who wore Laz dresses” were among the most frequent characterization of robbers.
There was a change in this discourse in the mid-1890s when the so-called “Armenian
revolutionaries” were at the top of the suspect list. Whether these descriptions should be
taken for granted is of course debatable. Most likely, Ottoman authorities were trying to
find some explanation (or excuse) for the predominance of highway robbery in the region
by pinpointing the cultural traits of the robbers, in other words the so-called “unruly”
characteristics of the Laz, Kurds, and the Armenians.
In reality however, highway robbers were a more diverse and heterogeneous
group than how Ottoman authorities portrayed them to be. Ottoman, Iranian, and Russian
subjects were both villains and victims of highway robbery. For instance, the bandits who
attacked Şefik Effendi between Bayezid and Diyadin in 1896 and stole 2.7 liras were
Iranian subjects. Şefik Effendi was, at the time, on his way to conduct the census (nüfus-u
umumi yoklaması) of the Third Hamidiye Regiment (Hamidiye Üçüncü Alayı).25
24 PMOA, DH.MKT 427/33, 22 Rebiyülevvel 1313 (12 September 1895); PMOA, Y.MTV 129/33, 6
Rebiyülahır 1313 (26 September 1895)
25 PMOA, BEO 859/64366, 22 Cemaziyülevvel 1314 (29 October 1896)
405
One year later, Iranians were, this time, the victims of highway robbery. Five
Iranian merchants who lived in Erzurum complained that robbers attacked four of their
caravans between Erzurum and Bayezid ten days in a row. They lost a few horses and
thirty liras in these attacks. Since the merchants were afraid of further assaults, they
refused to allow the rest of their merchandise to leave Erzurum until the Ottoman
government provided a few cavaliers to accompany the caravans to the Iranian border.26
As the examples provided below will testify, the Trabzon-Bayezid road continued
to suffer from attacks in the second half of the 1890s. Only one month after the assault on
the Iranian merchants, highway robbers attacked Iranian Hacı Ibrahim Agha at a location
three hours away from Erzurum and stole two carpets which belonged to Hacı Ali Ekber
Agha. After two months, authorities were able to catch the criminals, but unfortunately
failed to locate the stolen carpets. The Iranian consulate complained that Erzurum
province supplied gendarmerie forces for the protection of the road between Erzurum and
Trabzon, but left the other half of the road between Erzurum and Bayezid unguarded.
Erzurum’s governor Rauf Bey rejected the accusation and asserted that the gendarmerie
accompanied the caravans until the Iranian border as well.27 Rauf Bey would face similar
allegations in the future, as will be discussed in the following pages.
In 1898, violence on the road continued between Erzurum and Bayezid. Thirteen
horsemen from three different tribes attacked Gendarmerie Corporal Abdülkadir and the
imams of the Second Hamidiye Regiment (Hamidiye Ikinci Alayı) Hacı Ibrahim and Salih
26 PMOA, BEO 997/74746, 25 Rebiyülevvel 1315 (24 August 1897)
27 PMOA, BEO 1014/76040, 2 Cemaziyülevvel 1315 (29 September 1897); PMOA, BEO 1023/76688, 19
Cemaziyülevvel 1315 (16 October 1897); PMOA, BEO 1043/78191, 27 Cemaziyülahır 1315 (23
November 1897)
406
Effendi at Tahir Pass. They stole Corporal Abdülkadir’s horse and gun as well as Ibrahim
and Salih Effendi’s personal items. According to the commander of the Seventh Division
(Yedinci Fırka), Tahir Pass was especially vulnerable to attacks by highway robbers. A
squad, which consisted of an officer and eighteen soldiers from the Second Squadron of
the Nineteenth Mobile Cavalier Regiment (Seyyar Süvari On Dokuzuncu Alayın Ikinci
Bölüğü) was supposed to patrol on Tahir Pass; but the squad was not receiving a regular
stipend from the government. Instead, the soldiers depended on nearby villages for their
allowance and ended up traveling between the villages most of the time. As most of the
designated villages were far from the Erzurum-Bayezid road, the road remained
unguarded while the squad was busy travelling from one village to another in order to
collect money and food for its subsistence.28
Finally, the commander of the Seventh Division requested that the Ministry of
War construct gendarmerie cordons between Erzurum and Bayezid in order to solve the
problem. The ministry had previously built numerous cordons between Trabzon and
Erzurum, but neglected the section from Erzurum to the Iranian border. By requesting
these cordons, the Ottoman army, in a way, confirmed the Iranian consul’s observation
that the provincial government in Erzurum had left the section of the road between
Erzurum and Bayezid unguarded. If there were cordons between Erzurum and Bayezid,
then the gendarmerie would be able to protect the road and the squad from the Second
Squadron of the Nineteenth Mobile Cavalier Regiment would eventually become
28 PMOA, BEO 1204/90241, 16 Cemaziyülevvel 1316 (2 October 1898)
407
redundant. The Ministry of War approved this request, but it is not clear whether any
cordons were actually built between Erzurum and Bayezid.29
Only a couple of months later, at 10 pm on December 10th 1898, five bandits
attacked an Iranian caravan near Eleşkirt. Meanwhile, another Iranian, Çilodar Isa, was
also victim of an attack which took place two hours away from Vize. Several other
Iranian caravans were also robbed near Vize and Karapazar Villages in 1899. Authorities
were able to find Isa’s stolen camel and merchandise, but aided by the dark, the robbers
escaped. Previously, the Sublime Porte had ordered the Governor of Erzurum Rauf Bey
to have cavaliers accompany the caravans to the border, but to no avail.30
A few months later, authorities recorded two more instances of highway robbery
on the section of the road which stretched from Erzurum to the Iranian border. The
suspects were members of the Hamidiye Regiments. The first victim was a Russian
subject, Taki Bin Meşhidi Ali Ekber from Yerevan. Taki and his friends were spending
the night in their tents near Karakilise when Hacı Bin Halil from Kilesor, a captain in the
Hamidiye Regiments, showed up and started questioning them about their journey. Later
that night at around midnight, two horsemen attacked Taki and his friends, and stole a
horse and forty-eight liras. Ali Ekber believed that the suspects were members of the
Hamidiye Regiments who suspiciously questioned them just a few hours before the
robbery.31
29 Ibid.
30 PMOA, BEO 1287/96519, 18 Zilkade 1316 (30 March 1899)
31 PMOA, Y.MTV 194/127, 28 Cemaziyülevvel 1317 (4 October 1899)
408
The victim of the second event was Ihsan Bey from Erzurum. Six horsemen from
Hasananlı tribe in Bayezid stopped Ihsan Bey somewhere between Erzurum and Pasinler,
and stole his animals, sword, and sixty liras. Ihsan Bey suspected the robbers to be
members of the Hamidiye Regiments based on the badges on their fur caps. The Ministry
of War ordered the gendarmerie to look for the suspects.32
While acts of highway robbery continued in the section of the road between
Erzurum and Bayezid, the other half of the road from Erzurum to Trabzon was not safe
either. An assault took place near Demirciköy on September 12th 1899; but the six
robbers were not able to take the caravan under their control. The soldiers, the postmen,
and the drivers successfully defended the caravan and safely brought it to Gümüşhane.
The robbers were arrested and the investigation revealed that two of them were actually
tobacco smugglers.33
While new acts of violence occurred on the Trabzon-Bayezid road, officials were
also busy solving the financial problems brought about by events which took place
several years ago. For example, bandits had attacked the postal caravan at Maçka almost
five years ago (1894) and stolen 1,370 liras. 1,263 liras of this belonged to civilians and
the state had compensated the owners for their loss. In 1899, five years after the incident,
the state still owed approximately eighty-eight liras to some of the victims.34
32 Ibid.
33 PMOA, DH.MKT 2282/107, 7 Şaban 1317 (11 December 1899)
34 PMOA, DH.MKT 2246/99, 8 Cemaziyülevvel 1317 (14 September 1899); PMOA, I.PT 11/1318-M-03,
25 Muharrem 1318 (25 May 1900); PMOA, BEO 1493/111926, 28 Muharrem 1318 (28 May 1900)
409
By 1900, Trabzon-Bayezid road had become so unsafe that Iranian caravans
refused to leave Erzurum. As usual, the drivers of the caravans asked the local
government to assign cavaliers to protect them; but authorities agreed to provide only a
few soldiers.35 Two days after the drivers filed their request, Governor Rauf Bey finally
accepted that the gendarmerie forces proved to be useless in defending the caravans. On
the contrary, they were themselves often prey to bandits.36 The gendarmerie was
especially vulnerable to the members of the Hamidiye Regiments. Despite this
confession, Rauf Bey continued to follow the old practice of assigning only gendarmerie
forces to accompany caravans, even though four or five military soldiers would be
enough to successfully reinforce the gendarmerie.37
It was, therefore no surprise when bandits (who were Ottoman subjects) attacked
the caravans which carried the merchandise of Iranian merchant Hacı Mırza Mahmut
Agha twice in 1900. Mahmut Agha was a resident of Istanbul, so he hired cameleers to
transport his goods. First, cameleer Agha Hassan came under attack near Karakilise.
Even though local authorities were able to find the stolen goods, which were 30 liras
worth, they refused to give them back to Hacı Mırza. Therefore, the merchant wanted his
commodities to be immediately returned back to his assistant Hacı Mehmet Agha in
Erzurum who was also an Iranian merchant.38
35 PMOA, BEO 1508/113058, 28 Safer 1318 (27 June 1900)
36 PMOA, BEO 1509/113153, 30 Safer 1318 (29 June 1900)
37 PMOA, BEO 1512/113392, 6 Rebiyülevvel 1318 (4 July 1900)
38 PMOA, BEO 1528/114574, 6 Rebiyülâhır 1318 (3 August 1900): PMOA, BEO 1538/115296, 26
Rebiyülâhır 1318 (23 August 1900). Apart from being a case of highway robbery on the Trabzon-Bayezid
road, this event also constitutes a good example of how the road contributed to the establishment of
commercial networks which exceeded regional and imperial boundaries. Apparently, some Iranian
410
Only a few months later, bandits attacked near Eleşkirt Iranian cameleer Abdullah
who also carried Hacı Mırza’s goods. Robbers stole a crate full of silk which was worth
150 liras. Local authorities in Karakilise were able to arrest one of the robbers and
reclaimed the silk. Hacı Mırza again wanted his merchandise to be returned back to Hacı
Mehmet. Eventually, authorities gave Hacı Mehmet only twenty bundles of silk whereas
there should have been forty-two in total.39 A few months later, Karakilise was once
again witness to an act of highway robbery, this time against a Russian caravan. The
bandits were Kurdish, possibly members of the Hamidiye Regiment.40
Only a few days later, Kurdish bandits attacked another caravan near Karakilise
and wounded a man.41 On October 3rd 1901, the postal caravan which left Erzurum was
pillaged twelve hours away from Trabzon. The carrier was killed and all the money was
taken away by the bandits.42 In 1903, attacks on travelers continued on Kop Mountain.
Çarvadar Irani Hacı Mehmet Ali Erzeli was on his way from Trabzon to Iran, carrying
ninety-six crates of goods, six of which were stolen by bandits.43 One year later, highway
merchants preferred to reside in the Ottoman Empire. Actually, some went as far as Istanbul while at the
same time retaining their commercial ties with their local protégées in Erzurum.
39 Ibid.
40 PMOA, BEO 1579/118411, 18 Recep 1318 (11 November 1900); PMOA BEO 1579/118412, 15 Recep
1318 (8 November 1900)
41 PMOA, BEO 1581/118549, 22 Recep 1318 (15 November 1900)
42 Dispatches from United States Consul in Erzerum, 1895-1904, National Archives, Microfilm 1737, Roll
2, Volume 2, Dispatch Number 223.
43 PMOA, DH.MKT 843/70, 5 Safer 1322 (21 April 1904)
411
robbery continued as usual and bandits attacked near Aşkale Iranian Hacı Hamdullah Taç
Ahmedi who was carrying the merchandise of an Isfahan resident, Hacı Ahmet Agha.44
The frequency of strikes once more led Ottoman subjects to ask for permission to
carry weapons. In spring 1909, merchants of Erzurum were about to hit the road to buy
animals from the tribes in eastern Anatolia. Since the merchants would have to carry big
sums of money, they asked to be allowed to carry Russian and Greek rifles.45 One year
later, the Russian government demanded protection from the Ottoman state for the
Russian postmen who carried the official mail of Erzurum and Bayezid consulates twice
a week. The response of the gendarmerie headquarters was that they were outnumbered
and could not even provide enough protection to the Ottoman postal service.46
The situation was not very different in Trabzon where the governor once more
reported that there were not enough gendarmerie forces to accompany postal caravans in
1911.47 Meanwhile, animal merchants and shepherds from Erzurum were also concerned
about their safety and wanted the gendarmerie to accompany them. Alternatively, the
government should allow the merchants and the shepherds to carry guns. Merchants and
shepherds also wanted permission to buy imported guns.48
By World War I, Ottoman authorities were still unable to prevent highway
robbery on the Trabzon-Bayezid road. In 1913, the Greek patriarchate contacted the
44 PMOA, BEO 2696/202156, 1 Ramazan 1323 (30 October 1905)
45 PMOA, DH.MKT 2813/100, 25 Rebiyülahır 1327 (16 May 1909)
46 PMOA, DH.MUI 102-1/30, 30 Cemaziyülevvel 1328 (9 June 1910)
47 PMOA, DH.ID 119-2/2, 8 Cemaziyülahır 1329 (6 June 1911)
48 PMOA, DH.ID 91/4, 26 Şevval 1330 (8 October 1912)
412
Ottoman government to complain about the escalation of violence in Trabzon. According
to the patriarchate, the residents of Gümüşhane, Torul, Kelkit, and Şiran were afraid to
travel between these districts. The Governor of Trabzon Sami Bey rejected this
accusation and argued that there had been no official complaints reported to his office.
There had been only three instances of murder and robbery from June until August 1913
in Gümüşhane where a population of approximately 153,000 lived. Sami Bey advised the
patriarchate to find a more reliable informant (muhbir). Otherwise, the patriarchate would
have to prove their claims.49
While the tension between the patriarchate and the governor intensified, eight
bandits struck some muleteers between Trabzon and Erzurum and plundered twenty-one
liras. Two squads started looking for the criminals and located their leaders Kurdish
Hassan and his brother Mahmud in a house hidden in the forest. During the clash,
Gendarmerie Kirkor’s arm was slightly wounded; but the robbers escaped thanks to the
density of the forest.50
Thus, the Trabzon-Bayezid road and its travelers were prey to constant attacks in
the post-1890 period by highway robbers. While authorities were unable to prevent
highway robbery, they became more anxious to blame the tension on someone. The
following case demonstrates how desperate local authorities were in their search for a
scapegoat and how their incapacity to find the culprit led to further problems in the legal
process and caused some diplomatic tension between Ottomans and their neighbors.
49 PMOA, DH.H 68/44, 28 Ramazan 1331 (31 August 1913)
50 PMOA, DH.EUM.EMN 30/26, 9 Şevval 1331 (11 September 1913)
413
Scapegoats: Caravan Operators
In 1901, highway robbers attacked an Iranian caravan near Korucuk, three hours
away from Erzurum. According to Ibrahim, the representative of Iranian merchants, their
caravans had been subject to many other assaults recently; but fortunately, the bandits
were not able to succeed in these earlier attacks. Thirty robbers, however, were
eventually successful in their final strike. Following the incident, an investigation took
place; but Erzurum’s governor was suspicious of the caravan operators’ testimonies.
First, three hundred forced laborers were working on the Erzurum-Bayezid road near
Korucuk at the time. On the night of the incident, they were sleeping in their tents, only a
few minutes away from the crime scene. According to the governor, it was impossible for
the workers not to hear the shootings and the screams of the caravan operators.51
Second, the testimonies of the caravan operators contradicted one another. While
some operators claimed that there were a total of twenty-five attackers, others said that
there were only fifteen horsemen. Caravan operators could not agree on the number of
stolen crates, either. Whereas some said that there were eight boxes missing, others told
that the caravan lost only five boxes. Third, it was questionable that no one reported the
incident to the gendarmerie station in Korucuk. Last but not least, authorities had
recorded no previous acts of violence near Korucuk. Therefore, according to the
governor, the area was not prone to highway robbery at all.52
Based on these points, the governor concluded that the caravan operators
themselves stole the goods and then pretended to be attacked by highway robbers.
51 PMOA, SD 1522/2, 5 Cemaziyülâhır 1319 (19 September 1901)
52 Ibid.
414
Eventually, authorities found the five stolen crates. Whereas one of the boxes was
untouched, the other four were already open.53 A month later, on September 19th 1901,
bandits attacked a certain Iranian Yusuf Agha near Korucuk, thus proving the governor
wrong. Yusuf Agha was carrying Iranian merchant Hacı Mehmet Taki Agha’s
merchandise which was worth 100 liras.54 Korucuk was in fact prone to highway robbery
and the road had indeed become a dangerous place for all travelers.
Meanwhile, as a response to escalating violence, the Iranian and Russian consuls
demanded that the Ottomans permit the caravan operators to carry guns.55 But Ottoman
officials were already suspicious of the operators who, they assumed, first collaborated
with the villagers, left their merchandise unattended at night, and then pretended to have
been attacked by highway robbers. Moreover, operators were not the actual owners of the
goods that they transported. This reinforced Ottoman authorities’ belief that the caravan
operators were collaborating with villagers and fabricating stories of highway robbery.
As a result, they saw no reason for arming the caravan operators.56
Instead, after two further assaults on the Iranian and Russian caravans near
Bayezid, the Ottoman government decided to assign six gendarmeries to Kızılvize,
Karakilise, and Delibaba. The gendarmeries would accompany the caravans all the way
from the Iranian border to Erzurum. If the caravan operators travelled without the
attendance of gendarmeries and were attacked on the way, Ottoman authorities would
53 Ibid.
54 PMOA, BEO 1734/129985, 2 Recep 1319 (15 October 1901)
55 PMOA, BEO 1784/133754, 18 Şevval 1319 (28 January 1902)
56 PMOA, DH.MKT 2592/112, 17 Zilkade 1319 (25 February 1902)
415
refuse to take responsibility. Meanwhile, local authorities were able to catch the bandits
and returned the Russians’ merchandise. The Iranians, however, were not able to reclaim
their goods and attributed this discrimination to the hostility between the Iranian
representative on commerce and the governor of Bayezid sub-province.57
By 1903, Ottoman authorities were still suspicious of the operators. When Bağır
Mehmet and his men attacked the postal caravan between Trabzon and Erzurum, local
authorities arrested and imprisoned the Iranian caravan operators who were incidentally
near the crime scene. The operators’ animals were also confiscated. The Iranian
representative on commerce complained that the arrest was only based on suspicion and
requested that the Ottomans release the operators immediately. Otherwise, he argued, the
Iranian government would ask the Ottomans to offer financial compensation for the
wrongful arrest of their citizens.58
While Ottoman authorities did not trust the Iranian caravan operators and thought
that they were collaborating with the local population in order to stage attacks of highway
robbery, Ottoman officials were also involved in illegal acts. The gendarme was an
institution which was recently created by the Ottoman state as part of its modernization
policies in the nineteenth century. The gendarmeries were supposed to protect and police
the Ottoman countryside. They were, however, poorly paid, which caused corruption in
the system, including explicit or implicit support to highway robbers.
57 Ibid.
58 PMOA, BEO 2198/164844, 27 Recep 1321 (19 October 1903); PMOA, BEO 2202/165138, 3 Şaban
1321 (25 October 1903)
416
Corruption of the Gendarme:
As suspicions about the caravan operators increased, the corruption of the
gendarme constituted another problem. In 1903, Armenian subjects of Bayburt
complained to the district officials that the gendarmerie at Kop Mountain robbed
travelers, especially the Armenians. Local officials did not take the accusations seriously
and disregarded the complaints. This, according to the central government in Istanbul,
further encouraged the gendarmerie forces to continue their misconduct.59
There were also rumors that the highway robbers who recently raided postal
caravans were actually gendarmeries. Simultaneously, Armenians also consulted the
governor of Bayburt district about tax-farmer Ibrahim Ethem Effendi who abducted and
raped women. Since there was no proof, the local government overlooked the complaints.
Istanbul, however, was concerned that the tension in Bayburt might give birth to foreign
intervention, as it happened in the European provinces of the empire where Russia and
other European powers attempted to take the protection of the non-Muslim Ottoman
subjects under their control. Therefore, Istanbul concluded that an unbiased official
should investigate the allegations.60
The corruption of the gendarmerie in Bayburt was not an isolated incident.
Hundreds of miles away, in Diyadin, the cavaliers –who were actually supposed to
accompany and protect caravans- had abused their power and deceived the driver of both
Ottoman and Iranian postal services. Accordingly, right after the caravan left Diyadin, the
cavaliers convinced the drivers to return to the town and then rested in their barracks
59 PMOA, BEO 2213/165917, 17 Şaban 1321 (8 November 1903)
60 Ibid.
417
during the night of January 22nd 1903. From 4 am at night until the caravan finally left
Diyadin the next morning, postal packages remained unguarded in the gendarmerie
barracks without the official permission of the post office. Apart from risking the security
of the boxes, the gendarmerie also caused the caravan to be delayed. The post office in
Diyadin filed a complaint about the gendarmerie, but the governor of the district refused
to take any action. Finally, the chief executive officer of the postal services in Erzurum
reported the misconduct of both the gendarmeries and the governor of the district to the
provincial government in Erzurum.61
As a matter of fact, the gendarmeries’ abuse of power, especially with regard to
Armenians, dated back to 1890 when the governor of Erzurum warned Ahmed Bey, the
acting governor (kaymakam vekili) of Eleşkirt district, that some Armenian merchants
transported mischievous documents (evrak-ı muzır) along the Trabzon-Bayezid road.
Based on this information, Ahmed Bey sent his brother and a few gendarmeries to search
the goods and belongings of Armenian tradesmen passing through Eleşkirt although
neither him nor the gendarme had the legal right to do so.62
On December 5th, Ahmed Bey’s brother and the gendarmerie inspected the
business documents of a tradesman and his friend, and had their papers translated to
Ottoman Turkish to make sure that they did not include forbidden literature criticizing the
state. Even though the merchant and his friend had legal permission allowing them to
travel within the empire, Ahmed Bey asked his brother and the gendarmerie to bring the
merchants to his office. Rahmi Pasha, the Commander of the Cavalier Brigade (Süvari
61 PMOA, DH.MKT 679/56, 4 Muharrem 1321 (2 April 1903)
62 PMOA, Y.MTV 46/131, 24 Rebiyülâhır 1308 (7 December 1890)
418
Livası) in Karakilise, sent a telegram to Zeki Pasha, the Commander of the Fourth Army
in Erzincan, and informed him on the illegality of Ahmed Bey’s and the gendarme’s
actions. In turn, Zeki Pasha sent a telegraph to the Sublime Porte and stated that Ahmed
Bey explicitly disobeyed the recent order from the Ministry of Interior asking officials to
be cautious (iltizam-ı ihtiyat olunması) while investigating untruthful denouncements.63
What is most interesting in this case is that Zeki Pasha, who overlooked the corruption of
the Hamidiye Regiments, did not tolerate a similar abuse of power by a civilian official.
Most likely, he wanted to eliminate all sorts of civilian power in favor of the Hamidiye
regiments.
Archival sources do not reveal how the Sublime Porte responded to Zeki Pasha’s
telegraph and whether or not Ahmed Bey and the gendarme were punished for their abuse
of power; but this case demonstrates how certain officials –a high commander (Rahmi
Pasha) in this case- tried to protect the rights of non-Muslim Ottoman merchant classes,
while some lower-ranking officials like the gendarme tried to restrict their freedom of
mobility. Moreover, this was not the only case in which Rahmi Pasha sided with the
civilian population against the local government. As discussed in Chapter Five, he
supported the people of Karakilise who pillaged and plundered the storehouses of the
merchants during the famine in 1893.64
This event also displays a general suspicion against the Armenian subjects of the
empire. The warning from the governor of Erzurum, which triggered Ahmed Bey’s and
the gendarme’s illegal actions, constitutes a very good example of this suspicion. In the
63 Ibid.
64 PMOA, BEO 320/23974, 23 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (2 December 1893)
419
end, even though Rahmi Pasha tried to protect the rights of the Armenian subjects, the
very fact that he needed to inform the Sublime Porte about this event reveals an anxiety
on the part of the state about the Armenians in general –regardless of whether the
statesmen had good or bad intentions.65
Alexader MacDonald who travelled along the road in 1891 gives some
information about Ahmet Bey. Ahmet Bey was the son of a Kurdish tribal chieftain who
had taken the area around Toprakkale under his control before the Russo-Ottoman War of
1877-1878. Later, Ahmet Bey’s father was exiled to Tripoli where he died. Like his
father, Ahmet Bey was a tax-farmer before he was appointed as the acting governor of
Eleşkirt district. As a tax-farmer, he was already involved in misconduct and charged
peasants more than they were supposed to pay. He was also responsible for the murder of
Caucasian Omar Bey (the governor of Eleşkirt at the time) and his family. Governor
Sami Pasha had summoned him to Erzurum in order to investigate his crimes; but
eventually, Ahmet Bey was appointed as the acting governor of Eleşkirt. During his term,
he was known for mistreating the Armenian population of the district and arresting them
randomly without any substantial charges. Finally, he was dismissed from office.66
65 In that respect, this case is different from other cases of restriction against the freedom of movement. For
example, between 1861 and 1863, the local notables of Cevizlidere had tried to limit the mobility of all the
travelers that used the Trabzon-Erzurum road by collecting a toll from everyone –as discussed in Chapter
Two. In 1890 however, a specific group, the Armenians, was targeted by the actions of Ahmet Bey and the
gendarmerie. Moreover, this event was not an exception. One year later, on November 15th and 16th 1891,
the Police Commissioner (Polis Komiserliği) of Trabzon informed the local government that forty-four
Armenian workers had boarded Russian and Greek ships in Istanbul in order to go to Trabzon. These
people were on their way to their hometowns in Erzurum, Van, and Bitlis. The policemen searched them
and their belongings and found no sign of illegal publications (evrak-ı muzır) or illicit weapons (esliha-ı
memnu). Ali Pasha, the governor of Trabzon, sent a telegraph to the Sublime Porte informing the Grand
Vizier about the situation. PMOA, Y.A.HUS 253/77, 14 Rebiyülâhır 1309 (17 November 1891)
66 MacDonald, 219-21.
420
Notwithstanding the corruption of the gendarmeries who collaborated with local
officials like Ahmet Bey, authorities had no choice but to still rely on the gendarme as an
institution which was theoretically supposed to protect the Ottoman countryside instead
of terrorizing it. In 1903 for example, the chief executive officer of postal services in
Erzurum demanded an increase in the number of the gendarmerie forces that the local
government assigned to protect the caravans. The cordons along the road supplied only
one or two gendarmeries which were not enough to secure the postal service.67
Moreover, Pasha Cordon between Aşkale and Pırnakapan was recently damaged.
While its on-time evacuation secured the lives of the gendarmeries, the Ministry of War
was concerned about the creation of a power vacuum in the region because the area was
one of the favorite sites for highway robbers. Since no entrepreneur responded positively
to the government’s announcement of an auction for the reconstruction of the cordon, the
Sublime Porte renovated the building on its own. According to the survey done by
Erzurum’s chief conductor, the repair cost 125 liras which was supplied by the
gendarme’s budget.68
Thus, like the Hamidiye Regiments, an institution, which was created by the
Ottoman state as part of its modernization policies, had been transformed into a problem.
Accordingly, instead of securing the Ottoman countryside, the gendarme became a
supplier of highway robbers on certain occasions. Even though there is not enough
evidence to suggest that the majority of the gendarmeries were involved in overt
67 PMOA, DH.MKT 768/7, 1 Recep 1321 (23 September 1903)
68 PMOA, I.AS 47/1321-B-22, 19 Recep 1321 (11 October 1903); PMOA, DH.MKT 783/40, 7 Şaban 1321
(29 October 1903)
421
violence, a considerable number of them harassed travelers, especially the non-Muslim
subjects of the empire. Also, some of the gendarmerie did not take their job seriously and
were careless on duty, thus jeopardizing the safety of the caravans which they were
supposed to protect. This created an ambiguous situation in which there were no clear-cut
boundaries between criminals and government officials. Hence, it was getting more
difficult to catch or prevent highway robbers. In the end, the helplessness of the
authorities turned the legal process and the prosecution of the robbers into a very
sensitive issue. This topic will be evaluated in the following section with reference to a
specific case.
Legal Scandals:
Around 10 am on October 5th 1903, a postal caravan was attacked in Hamsiköy
near Zigana Mountain. Maçka and its vicinity had recently become a hotbed for bandits
who frequently attacked both civilian and postal caravans. While the culprits of the
previous attacks were still on the run, there was another assault on the postal service.69
More than forty bandits hid in the forest and started shooting at the caravan when it
passed by. During the shooting, Corporal Gendarmerie Mehmet and Private Halim from
the infantry cordon in Bekçiler were patrolling the road while the other private of the
cordon remained inside to defend the building in case of an attack. Mehmet and Halim
immediately came to the caravan’s help and started the counter-fire. In the meantime,
69 PMOA, DH.MKT 774/53, 15 Recep 1321 (7 October 1903); PMOA, BEO 2214/166044, 16 Şaban 1321
(7 November 1903); PMOA, DH.MKT 809/79, 25 Şevval 1321 (14 January 1904)
422
three cavaliers from Zigana Cordon, who had been accompanying the postal service, also
defended the caravan.70
During the clashes, postman (tatar) Şakir Effendi, who was actually on leave and
returned from his home in Eğin to Istanbul, Corporal Gendarmerie Mehmet, one of the
two postmen on duty, and one of the drivers died on the crime scene. A horse that
belonged to the gendarmerie and five other animals which belonged to the postal service
were also among the casualties. The other postman Nazif Agha was shot on the leg, but
survived and had an operation which cost almost 12 liras. Immediately after the attack,
the Fourth Army, Trabzon, Erzurum, and Sivas provinces, and Gümüşhane, Bayburt, and
Karahisar sub-provinces started looking for the criminals.71
Since there were more than forty bandits, authorities believed that the residents of
nearby villages must have seen them. Moreover, they assumed that the bandits might in
fact be the residents of these villages. Thus, in addition to the caravan operators,
authorities were now also suspicious of Ottoman villagers. First among the suspects were
Armenian revolutionaries (Ermeni erbab-ı fesadı). Tobacco smugglers who did not
refrain from harassing travelers on the Trabzon-Erzurum road were also on the suspect
list. Both Suleiman Pasha, the commander of the gendarmerie regiment in Trabzon, and
his son Hacı Omar Bey, the commander of the battalion in Rize, had so far been unable to
prevent the mobility of these two groups of criminals: highway robbers and smugglers.
70 PMOA, DH.MKT 774/53, 15 Recep 1321 (7 October 1903); PMOA, BEO 2214/166044, 16 Şaban 1321
(7 November 1903); PMOA, DH.MKT 835/37, 10 Muharrem 1322 (27 March 1904)
71 Ibid.
423
The replacement of these two officers by more competent men was necessary in order to
guarantee security in the region.72
Third among the suspects was Sedat, the son of a certain Ahmet Effendi, who had
been a bandit on the run in the Gümüşhane region for years. A day after the incident,
Sedat and his twenty armed attendants –who were believed to be from Sürmene and
Yomra districts- were seen near Maden Khans. Finally, Lance Corporal Ali had seen
seventeen suspicious-looking men on a pasture near the crime scene two days before the
incident. Shepherd Ahmet had given them one of his sheep and the men had talked with
the innkeeper as well as the shopkeeper Suleiman. Authorities interrogated Ali, Ahmet,
and Suleiman after the incident. By December 13th, all these three men, Ahmet who was
the father in law of Sedat, a certain Haliloğlu Temel, a certain Ahmet, and a certain
Mustafa were under arrest.73
Six months later, Yağız, the leader of an Iranian caravan, was also taken into
custody in Trabzon. Authorities had caught him near Erzurum, but there was no
particular reason as to why they accused him. Meanwhile, officials were almost certain
that Sedat, the bandit who had been on the run for years, and his men were the actual
offenders. But unfortunately, the Sedat, whom they had recently imprisoned, did not turn
out be the one that they were looking for. To make matters even worse, there was no
substantial evidence against any of the men arrested.74
72 Ibid.
73 PMOA, DH.MKT 774/53, 15 Recep 1321 (7 October 1903)
74 Ibid.
424
The only evidence that authorities had taken from the crime scene were a few
pieces of bread. This further made them believe that highway robbers were collaborating
with villagers who lived nearby. Therefore, local officials concentrated their efforts in
finding which village had cooked the bread and who among the villagers hosted the
bandits. If highway robbers did not pass through any of the nearby villages, then who had
brought them the bread? Meanwhile, Istanbul government was concerned that local
authorities were focusing too much on these minor questions, thereby neglecting other
evidence which could have actually led them to identify both the criminals and their
whereabouts.75
In fact, local officials were more interested in finding the collaborators who
allegedly acted in complicity with highway robbers rather than the actual criminals. It is
likely that the immobility of the villagers made them easy prey to bureaucrats who were
desperately looking for a scapegoat. As discussed above, the long and vague suspect list
included generic groups such as “tobacco smugglers” and “Armenian revolutionaries”
alongside the names of actual individuals who in most cases did not have anything to do
with the crime. Sedat, who, as I mentioned earlier, was “mistaken” for a criminal,
constitutes a good example. The arrest of people without any substantial evidence also
supports this view. By contrast, the actual robbers were able to vanish into thin air thanks
to their mobility.
By July 1904, there were still nine people under arrest. It is likely that the
arrestees were the same men whose names I mentioned above: Lance Corporal Ali,
shepherd Ahmet, innkeeper and shopkeeper Suleiman, Ahmet who was the father in law
75 Ibid.
425
of Sedat the “Actual Bandit,” Yağız who was the leader of an Iranian caravan, a certain
Haliloğlu Temel, a certain Ahmet, a certain Mustafa, and finally –and most
unfortunately- the “wrong” Sedat.76
Consequently, Istanbul started accusing the Governor of Trabzon Reşat Bey for
being too lax in his policies. According to the central government, Reşat Bey had
neglected Trabzon’s countryside long before the robbery. Now, the situation was so bad
that the rural areas of the province needed regular inspection. Moreover, Reşat Bey
should have immediately gone to the crime scene in order to make sure that the necessary
precautions were taken and useful evidence was collected right away. The governor
defended himself by comparing his reign to that of his predecessor Kadri Bey who had
also been unable to prevent the violent and bloody events in Trabzon’s countryside.
Moreover, Reşat Bey had previously asked for military reinforcement, but Istanbul had
rejected his request.77
According to the governor, thanks to the dense forest, the region near Zigana
Mountain provided a natural shelter for fugitives to hide and therefore had been a hotbed
for bandits for years. Eight gendarmerie stations, which were 2-3 hours away from one
another, each housed 3-8 gendarmeries, but they were still outnumbered. Moreover, the
rifles that the gendarmerie forces used were so old that they broke into pieces after a few
shots. On the contrary, highway robbers carried Martini and Mauser rifles. Therefore,
76 Ibid.
77 PMOA, BEO 2214/166044, 16 Şaban 1321 (7 November 1903)
426
Governor Reşat Bey still thought that the military should have patrolled the road rather
than relying only on the gendarmerie forces.78
Reşat Bey also advocated non-military measures in order to deal with banditry
and suggested increasing the sedentary population of the region. He wanted to settle a
new village near the summit of Zigana Mountain. At least a hundred cavaliers were
supposed to reside in this newly established village. The cavaliers would patrol the two
bastions which were located on both sides of the summit. The new village would also
have a telegraph office and the cavaliers would protect the surrounding forests from
exploitation and overconsumption.79 Moreover, Zigana Mountain had also become the
grave of many travelers who had died due to avalanches in winter. The residents of the
new village could also help rescue the wounded and snowbound travelers on time. Even
though the central treasury faced financial problems, Reşat Bey preferred emphasizing
these long-term benefits of an increased sedentary population so as to stress the
feasibility of his proposal.80
Reşat Bey also thought that the Regie81 was responsible for the disturbances in
Trabzon’s countryside. First of all, the Regie forced peasants to sell their tobacco for very
78 PMOA, DH.MKT 809/79, 25 Şevval 1321 (14 January 1904)
79 Ibid. The conservation and protection of forests was a widespread concern in the Ottoman Empire during
the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. For example, “the government created and renewed posts
of forest control many times in [1890s] in an effort to regulate the sale and usage of timber” in Çukurova
region. Toksöz, Nomads, Migrants and Cotton in the Eastern Mediterranean, 126. For more information on
the management of forestry in the Ottoman Empire see, Selçuk Dursun, Forest and the State: History of
Forestry and Forest Administration in the Ottoman Empire (Unpublished Dissertation, Sabancı University,
2007).
80 PMOA, DH.MKT 809/79, 25 Şevval 1321 (14 January 1904)
81 More information will be provided in the next section.
427
cheap prices. Therefore, tobacco producers were actually supporting smugglers. In other
words, contrary to expectations, locals did not complain about smuggling; on the
contrary, more and more people were joining their ranks. Consequently, the gendarmerie
proved to be useless in preventing smugglers’ mobility. Second, Reşat Bey accused the
Regie of not respecting the sovereignty of the Ottoman state. According to him, the Regie
assumed that they could freely use Ottoman officials for their own interests. At times, the
Regie did not even follow legal procedures while dealing with smugglers. Even when the
gendarme proved to be successful in catching smugglers and bringing them to justice, the
Regie failed to litigate a rightful claim and present proper evidence. Hence, the courts had
no option but to release the alleged criminals.82
As for his absence from the crime scene, Reşat Bey defended himself by pointing
out the “nonsense” of this accusation. The incident had occurred at 10:30 am and the
crime scene was nine and a half hours away from Trabzon city center. Since there were
no telegraph offices near the crime scene, Reşat Bey had heard of the incident eleven
hours later. He immediately ordered Pertev Pasha (a member of Trabzon provincial
assembly), Suleiman Pasha (the commander of the gendarmerie regiment in Trabzon),
and certain other officials to go and investigate the crime scene. Meanwhile, cavaliers of
the regiment in Trabzon and the battalion in Gümüşhane had started chasing the
robbers.83
82 PMOA, BEO 2214/166044, 16 Şaban 1321 (7 November 1903)
83 PMOA, DH.MKT 774/53, 15 Recep 1321 (7 October 1903); PMOA, BEO 2214/166044, 16 Şaban 1321
(7 November 1903)
428
The attack on the postal caravan also caused the Ministry of Telegraph and Postal
Services suffer financially. Bandits had stolen 5,012 liras, of which fifty liras belonged to
Bitlis province which sent the money to Istanbul in order to make payments to the
Ministry of War for the purchase of military equipment. Additionally, Bitlis was also
required to send almost fifty liras to the Ministry of Education as taxes on religious
sacrifices (zebhiye resmi). Last but not least, Bitlis’ Department of Revenues (Bitlis
vilayeti defterdarlığı) had to pay fifty-eight liras to the Ministry of Finance as a tax on
domesticated animals (hayvanat-ı ehliye rüsumu). Additionally, ninety-five liras was
donated by the Twentieth Mobile Artillery Regiment (Seyyar Topçu Yirminci Alay) in
Erzurum for the construction of the Hamidiye Railroad. Finally, sixty-five liras belonged
to the Ministry of Justice and included items such as court order charges (ilam harcı) and
appellate court fees (rüsum-u temyiziye).84
Apart from these items, the majority of the stolen cash (4,000 liras) belonged to
civilians who had consigned their money to the postal caravan. Therefore, the Ministry of
Telegraph and Postal Services was supposed to reimburse the money to its owners;
however, the ministry wanted to use its budget to erect telegraph poles and build new
post offices in the Balkan provinces. In other words, the ministry was not willing to pay
the price for the mistake of the local authorities in Trabzon who had failed to assign
enough forces to accompany the postal caravan. The Ministry of Telegraph and Postal
84 PMOA, DH.MKT 774/53, 15 Recep 1321 (7 October 1903); PMOA, BEO 2253/168938, 27 Şevval 1321
(16 January 1904); PMOA, DH.MKT 824/59, 7 Zilhicce 1321 (24 February 1904); PMOA, BEO
2314/173517, 30 Muharrem 1322 (16 April 1904); PMOA, DH.MKT 845/63, 10 Safer 1322 (26 April
1904)
429
Services asked the central treasury to provide the 4,000 liras, but the Ministry of Finance
rejected this request.85
The Ministry of Telegraph and Postal Services was also anxious that the
investigation proceeded too slowly. The criminals, who had robbed the caravan and killed
the postmen in October 1903, were still on the run by February 1905. According to some
officials, the main reason for this delay was the absence of a skillful attorney general
(dava vekili) in Trabzon who would know that as more time passed it would be more
difficult to collect reliable evidence. Therefore, the minister suggested the appointment of
the ministry’s legal consultant (nezaret hukuk müşaviri) Kazım Bey to Trabzon. This
request was also rejected and the Ministry of Telegraph and Postal Services finally
agreed that Trabzon’s Attorney General Mithat Effendi could stay in office when the trial
started in April 1906.86
Finally in November 1907, seventeen people were sentenced for various crimes.87
We do not have much information about the trial process or who exactly these seventeen
men were. However, the number of the convicted men (seventeen) suggests that they
were the seventeen suspicious men whom Lance Corporal Ali had seen two days before
the incident, speaking to shepherd Ahmet and innkeeper/shopkeeper Suleiman on a
mountain pasture near the crime scene.
Thus, by 1908, Ottoman authorities were still desperate to prevent highway
robbery on the Trabzon-Bayezid road, which had begun to overwhelm the region in the
85 Ibid.
86 PMOA, DH.MKT 774/53, 15 Recep 1321 (7 October 1903)
87 Ibid.
430
post-1890 period. Because of their desperation and legal inaptitude, officials accused and
arrested people at random. Moreover, the groups which they suspected – such as tobacco
smugglers and Armenian revolutionaries- suggest the extent to which highway robbery
was embedded in the local context. This made it even more difficult to solve the problem
for good. Along these lines, the next section will discuss the activities of one of these
groups: tobacco smugglers.
Tobacco Smuggling:
Tobacco smuggling was a “weapon of the weak”88 used by the local population of
northeastern Anatolia in order to overcome the obstacles created by the establishment of
the Regie in 1884.89 Following the bankruptcy of the Ottoman government in the mid-
1870s, the Regie had seized the control of the tobacco monopoly in the Ottoman Empire.
Since the company required peasants to sell their tobacco for very cheap prices, some
villagers preferred to collaborate with smugglers and sold their produce to them –as
Trabzon’s Governor Reşat Bey suggested.
In this context, the Trabzon-Erzurum road became one of the major routes that
smugglers used in order to travel from the Black Sea coast where tobacco was planted
extensively to the inland regions of eastern Anatolia. Hence, in addition to being a
common ground for bandits, Trabzon-Erzurum road also served the interests of Ottoman
88 I borrow the term from James Scott, Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1985).
89 Fur further information see Donald Quataert, "The Regie, Smugglers, and the Government," in Social
Disintegration and Popular Resistance in the Ottoman Empire, 1881-1908: Reactions to European
Economic Penetration (New York: New York University Press, 1983); Nacar, Tobacco Workers in the Late
Ottoman Empire: Fragmentation, Conflict, and Collective Struggle.
431
peasants who wanted to escape the austerity measures imposed on them by foreign
powers. In other words, Trabzon-Erzurum road was used for a variety of subversive
acts.90 In this context, while Quataert identifies tobacco smuggling as a social protest
against foreign capital,91 Dığıroğlu believes that the provisionalism of the Ottoman state
was the main reason as to why smuggling survived for a long time. In other words,
Dığıroğlu claims that satisfying the demand and consumption of the local population was
more important for Ottoman statesmen than implementing the security measures that the
Regie asked the Ottoman state to apply in order to prevent smuggling.92
Tobacco smugglers started being active in northeastern Anatolia in the late 1880s.
Accordingly, Laz men established groups of 80-100 smugglers. They carried Martini
rifles, even though only Ottoman soldiers were allowed to use imported weapons.93
Smugglers’ access to modern weaponry prevented the gendarmerie or the guards of the
Regie from matching their strength.94 Moreover, the Ottoman gendarmerie and the Regie
lacked behind not only qualitatively but also quantitatively. The number of the smugglers
90 This analysis contrasts with the existing literature which focuses on external dynamics, such as the
integration of the Ottoman economy to the global markets, in analyzing the history of transportation in the
nineteenth-century Ottoman Empire –as discussed in the introductory chapter. On the contrary, whereas the
Regie tried to control the local production of tobacco in the vicinity of Trabzon, Erzurum road served as a
venue to transport tobacco from the Black Sea coast to eastern Anatolia for domestic consumption.
91 Quataert, "The Regie, Smugglers, and the Government."
92 Filiz Dığıroğlu, Memalik-i Osmaniye Duhanları Müşterekü'l-Menfaa Reji Şirketi: Trabzon Reji İdaresi
(1883-1914) (Istanbul: Osmanlı Bankası Arşiv ve Araştırma Merkezi, 2007), 105. Regardless of which
approach is more explanatory than the other, who the smugglers were and what they did before the
establishment of the Regie in 1884 require further research.
93 PMOA, DH.MKT 1684/59, 29 Rebiyülahır 1307 (23 December 1889)
94 Guns were smuggled from Persia through Van into eastern Anatolia during the early 1890s. See Duguid,
148. Another route was further south in the Persian Gulf region. Thus, tribal bandits in Iraq had easy access
to smuggled Martinis. Çetinsaya, 83, 98.
432
far exceeded those of the gendarmerie forces or the guards. The inability to prevent
tobacco smuggling forced the Regie to file official complaints to the Ottoman
government.95
The Regie demanded that Ottoman authorities assign a squadron of soldiers to
chase the smugglers; but the provincial government in Erzurum rejected this request.
According to the governor, the actual reason as to why smuggling survived was not the
inadequate number of soldiers. In reality, the Regie had failed to build warehouses where
authorities were supposed to stock the locally produced tobacco. Thus, the Regie had
neglected one of its main obligations which were clearly stated in its regulations. In
consequence, the governor argued, the Regie’s failure to regularly collect tobacco from
peasants and then protect it under its auspices encouraged smuggling.96 Thus, initially,
the provincial government of Erzurum preferred to protect the smugglers indirectly by
holding the Regie responsible for its inability to prevent the actions of smugglers.
In July 1891, the problem still continued. In fact, the situation was worse than
before because smugglers had also started engaging in highway robbery. The route that
smugglers followed passed through Trabzon, Gümüşhane, Bayburt, and Erzurum to reach
the domestic markets of eastern Anatolia. While they were on their way to Erzurum,
smugglers did not hesitate to attack the travelers or the villages along the road.97 This
new threat jeopardized not only the interests of the Regie but also those of the Erzurum
95 PMOA, DH.MKT 1684/59, 29 Rebiyülahır 1307 (23 December 1889)
96 PMOA, DH.MKT 1684/34, 27 Rebiyülahır 1307 (21 December 1889). The Regie did not keep its
promise of providing loans to the tobacco growers either. Nacar, 34.
97 PMOA, DH.MKT 1854/40, 23 Zilhicce 1308 (30 July 1891)
433
provincial government which was responsible for securing the Trabzon road. Hence, the
local government in Erzurum changed its attitude and stopped seeing the Regie’s failure
to build warehouses as the major cause behind smuggling. According to the governor,
Istanbul should provide military support to the gendarmerie which proved to be useless in
preventing smuggling.98
Two years later (1893), the situation was even worse. In addition to tobacco,
smugglers had now started transporting salt from Trabzon and Erzurum provinces.
Smugglers tended to be very active during spring when it was easier to travel.
Unfortunately, spring was also the season when people and their herds moved to their
summer resorts in mountain pastures. Therefore, the provincial governments of Trabzon
and Erzurum urgently needed to increase the number of the gendarmerie forces that
protected the cordons and passes along the road.99 The central government in Istanbul,
however, continued to accuse the Regie for the rise in smuggling. The Ministry of
Finance, for example, warned the Regie that the real reason for smuggling was the
Regie’s tendency to buy less and less tobacco every year. If this continued, the farmers of
Trabzon and Akçaabad would sell their products to smugglers no matter what military
precautions were taken.100
In late 1893, smugglers were now moving along the road in groups of a couple
hundred. Sometimes, their number reached as many as five hundred and they formed
“smuggling caravans” that consisted of approximately 350 carriages. For example, a gang
98 PMOA, DH.MKT 1870/122, 18 Safer 1309 (23 September 1891)
99 PMOA, BEO 308/23033, 28 Rebiyülahır 1311 (8 November 1893)
100 PMOA, BEO 310/23200, 1 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (10 November 1893)
434
of smugglers had departed Trabzon in the morning of November 24th 1893. Since the
gang consisted of a great number of men, no official could dare to prevent their
departure. The guards of the Regie were able to chase the smugglers for a while, but they
were outnumbered and could not engage in a clash with the smugglers. The guards in
Gümüşhane or Bayburt were not able to stop the smugglers either.101
The governor of Trabzon was aware that the gendarmerie would not be able to
prevent the movement of so many armed men. Moreover, authorities not only had to stop
the smugglers but also confiscate the tobacco that they carried as well as their Martini
rifles. Therefore, at least twenty cavaliers and thirty infantrymen were needed. The
governor also thought that Faik Bey, the commander of the battalion in Gümüşhane, was
an alcoholic and therefore not fit for duty. Consequently, the governor wanted Faik Bey’s
dismissal and his replacement by a more competent commander. Last but not least, the
army was also expected to support the gendarmerie in their fight against smuggling.102
For this purpose, there was need to form chasing squads (takib müfrezeleri).103
101 PMOA, BEO 315/23571, 13 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (22 November 1893)
102 PMOA, BEO 296/22144, 8 Rebiyülahır 1311 (19 October 1893); PMOA, BEO 301/22563, 18
Rebiyülahır 1311 (29 October 1893); PMOA, BEO 303/22662, 20 Rebiyülahır 1311 (31 October 1893);
PMOA, BEO 303/22714, 21 Rebiyülahır 1311 (1 November 1893); PMOA, BEO 305/22824, 22
Rebiyülahır 1311 (2 November 1893); PMOA, BEO 308/23033, 28 Rebiyülahır 1311 (8 November 1893)
103 PMOA, BEO 305/22839, 23 Rebiyülâhır 1311 (3 November 1893)
435
Figure XIV: A Chasing Squad (Takib Müfrezesi) from the Second Battalion (Ikinci
Tabur) of the Twenty-Sixth Infantry Regiment (Yirmi Altıncı Piyade Alayı) in
Erzurum. From Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality Ataturk Library, Album
Collection, Album 76 (Alb_000076)
The provincial government in Trabzon had recently increased the number of its
gendarmeries to fifty in order to deal with highway robbers and provided support to the
cordons along the Erzurum road. The employment of another fifty men was also
necessary. This would cause, however, an additional cost of 1,171 liras and the budget of
the gendarmerie was not prepared for such an expense. Therefore, the Ministry of War
wanted to deduct this amount from the following year’s budget.104
The Ministry also opposed the idea of the military’s involvement in the fight
against smuggling. Previously, authorities had tried military solutions; however, this
procedure did no harm to anyone but the soldiers who were assigned to the chasing
104 PMOA, BEO 308/23033, 28 Rebiyülâhır 1311 (8 November 1893)
436
squads. Sometimes, the clashes between the smugglers and the squads resulted in the
death of smugglers. Consequently, the families of the deceased filed lawsuits against the
soldiers who were, in fact, not authorized to chase the smugglers. According to the laws,
the gendarmerie was the only force responsible for dealing with smugglers. Hence, at the
end of these legal battles, some soldiers were arrested.105
Unlike the Ministry of War, Trabzon provincial government insisted that the
gendarmerie desperately needed the support of the army. The smugglers moved in big
groups and formed gangs of banditry. The army should be involved in the fight against
smuggling because providing security within the borders of the Ottoman Empire was also
one of its duties along with waging wars against foreign enemies.106 In the end, Istanbul
fulfilled only one of Trabzon governor’s requests. Faik Bey, the “alcoholic” commander
of the battalion in Gümüşhane, was replaced with Suleiman Agha, the commander of the
battalion in Drama in the Balkans.107
The inefficiency of local officials in preventing smuggling was also one of the
major complaints raised by the Regie. In Bayburt for example, smugglers had recently
been very successful in taking down the guards of the Regie because no Ottoman official
resisted them.108 Two years later, on the night of January 24th 1896, two hundred
smugglers started moving from Akçaabad to Bayburt via Gümüşhane. They carried with
them illegal weapons (esliha-ı memnu). The gendarmerie and the guards of the Regie
105 PMOA, BEO 305/22839, 23 Rebiyülâhır 1311 (3 November 1893)
106 PMOA, BEO 311/23316, 4 Cemaziyülevvel 1311 (13 November 1893)
107 PMOA, BEO 308/23033, 28 Rebiyülâhır 1311 (8 November 1893)
108 PMOA, BEO 301/22570, 18 Rebiyülâhır 1311 (29 October 1893)
437
once more proved to be useless to prevent the smugglers. Given the fact that the political
environment in Eastern Anatolia was already very tense because of the clashes between
the Armenians and the Kurds, the Governor of Trabzon Kadri Bey was greatly concerned
about the movement of so many armed men in the countryside.109
A year and a half later, local governments still mentioned the need for military
help against smugglers who now extended their area of influence as far as Erzincan,
Sivas, Amasya and Kemah. Moreover, they were not only smuggling tobacco, but also
continued assaulting people on their way. For example, smugglers asked innkeepers and
villagers to provide free food for their animals. They also forced the peasants to buy
tobacco from them and harassed Christian women. The governor of Trabzon thought that
this was especially dangerous when Europeans were so much involved in the internal
affairs of the empire in order to protect non-Muslim Ottoman subjects. However, only a
month ago in June 1897, soldiers had been assigned to chase smugglers in Karahisar-ı
Şarki; but in the end, one of the soldiers was killed. Therefore, Minister of War Rıza Bey
strictly banned the Fourth Army from providing further help to the local gendarmerie in
their struggle against smuggling.110
In early 1899, the demands of the governors of Erzurum and Trabzon had not
changed: military action against smuggling. In the meantime, smugglers continued to
engage in highway robbery, and continuously attacked and robbed travelers.111 For
109 PMOA, BEO 733/54959, 10 Şaban 1313 (26 January 1896); PMOA, BEO 734/54989, 11 Şaban 1313
(27 January 1896)
110 PMOA, BEO 984/73757, 28 Safer 1315 (29 July 1897)
111 PMOA, BEO 1249/93660, 18 Şaban 1316 (1 January 1899)
438
example recently, a gang of 150 cavalier smugglers had started moving towards Bayburt.
Since the Regie’s guards had already been chasing another band, there was no one in the
town to stop this second group.112
In early 1900, there was another exodus of tobacco smugglers from Trabzon to
Erzurum and from thereon to Mamuretülaziz.113 Three years later in 1903, gangs of 100-
150 smugglers still moved from one village to another, and forced villagers to buy their
tobacco. Smugglers did not discriminate between Muslim or Christian villages and
assaulted people at random. Since they carried Martini or Mauser rifles, neither the
gendarmerie nor the guards of the Regie could dare to counterattack them. As a matter of
fact, recently, two guards had been killed by smugglers.114 Moreover, it took the
smugglers only a couple of days to distribute all the tobacco among the villages;
therefore, neither the gendarmerie nor the guards had time to catch up with them.115
In early November 1903, a second band of four hundred smugglers departed
Akçaabad to go to Bayburt. A caravan of four hundred loaded horses accompanied
them.116 The local governments once again demanded military support, but the Fourth
Army’s response was negative. The number of smugglers would require the mobilization
112 PMOA, BEO 1267/95005, 7 Şevval 1316 (18 February 1899)
113 PMOA, DH.MKT 2298/93, 21 Ramazan 1317 (23 January 1900)
114 PMOA, BEO 2189/164166, 18 Rebep 1321 (10 October 1903)
115 PMOA, BEO 2219/166402, 25 Şaban 1321 (16 November 1903)
116 PMOA, BEO 2214/166048, 14 Şaban 1321 (5 November 1903)
439
of at least a battalion of soldiers; however, the military could not devote such a great
number of its men to a task which was actually the gendarmerie’s responsibility.117
In early 1904, 30-40 smugglers headed towards Erzurum. During the conflict
between the smugglers and the officials, one gendarmerie was wounded and the horse of
a Regie guard was killed.118 In the fall of 1904, smugglers wounded five guards and
killed one in Aşkale. Again, the local government demanded military support, but four of
the six battalions in Erzurum were already in Muş on another mission. The remaining two
battalions were barely enough to police the city itself. Therefore, once again, the
gendarmerie was on its own to catch the smugglers.119
Towards the end of 1905, 130 smugglers traveled freely on Erzurum Plain. Their
two leaders were Hassan from Trabzon and Latif from Zigana. A squad of twenty-five
gendarmeries was not enough to prevent the group from moving. Smugglers continuously
traveled between Trabzon and Erzurum, and smuggled not only tobacco but also
weapons. In fact, smuggling had become a regular profession for some Trabzon residents.
In the end, the Regie offered to pay all the costs if the Ottoman government agreed to
commit twenty-five of its cavaliers to the fight against smuggling. The Regie wanted the
formation of a special task force within the gendarmerie, whose only duty would be
dealing with smugglers. Once more, Istanbul kindly rejected this request.120
117 PMOA, BEO 2178/163300, 4 Recep 1321 (26 September 1903); PMOA, BEO 2214/166038, 13 Şaban
1321 (4 November 1903); PMOA, BEO 2225/166821, 4 Ramazan 1321 (24 November 1903)
118 PMOA, SD 1523/21, 19 Zilkade 1321 (6 February 1904)
119 PMOA, BEO 2416/181177, 14 Recep 1322 (24 September 1904)
120 PMOA, BEO 2613/195931, 28 Rebiyülahır 1323 (2 July 1905)
440
Four years later in 1909, a group of smugglers led by İmamoğlu Ali and
Yanasoğlu Mustafa were on the move from Akçaabad to Bayburt via Gümüşhane. Their
ultimate destination was Erzurum. There were only eleven gendarmeries to stop fortyeight
armed smugglers.121 Thus, even though twenty years had passed since tobacco
smuggling first started to be a major problem in northeastern Anatolia in the late 1880s,
the Ottoman government was still unable to solve the problem. Istanbul stubbornly
persisted on leaving the gendarmerie and the guards alone in their fight against
smuggling. The state was reluctant to deal with an issue, which did the biggest harm to a
foreign institution, namely the Regie.
Whereas the establishment of the Regie constituted a formal threat to imperial
sovereignty, Ottomans were still able to make their own decisions and force the Regie to
negotiate. The Ottoman state’s rejection to provide military support to the gendarmerie
and the guards in their fight against smuggling resulted in the Regie’s continuous
demands to find a solution to this problem. Istanbul did not respond positively to any of
these requests. As a company report stated in 1895, “an imperial order decreeing the
mobilization of imperial troops against these [smugglers’] bands has not been executed,
and the local authorities want[ed] an order for each particular case.”122 Therefore, the
activities and the mobility of the smugglers ironically created an arena for the Ottoman
state to subvert the actions of the Great Powers. In the end, Ottoman authorities
stubbornly refused to pay attention to a problem, which European powers suffered from
for twenty years.
121 PMOA, DH.MKT 2753/68, 8 Safer 1327 (1 March 1909)
122 Khater, 65.
441
Fugitive Soldiers:
In 1914, only a few years before the empire collapsed in the aftermath of World
War I, there was another attack on the postal caravan between Trabzon and Erzurum.
Thirty-five robbers hit the caravan at 4 am on September 12th at Aydere, between
Gümüşhane and Bayburt. They killed one of the drivers during the clash. Only one of the
seven gendarmeries who accompanied the postal service counterattacked the bandits.
Moreover, the reinforcement troops arrived at the crime scene 9-10 hours later. Finally,
two squads from Bayburt started looking for the fugitives. The squads patrolled
especially the mountain passes in order to prevent the robbers’ advance to the Black Sea
and eventually their refuge in Russia. Overall, two thousand soldiers chased the
bandits.123
Following the clashes between the gang and the gendarmeries, authorities took the
caravan to Daltaban where it was revealed that the bandits had stolen almost 2,535 liras.
During the clashes, the gendarme was able to rescue the rest of the money -2,122 lirasbelonging
to Erzincan sub-province. Meanwhile, robbers distributed the money among
themselves, and separated from each other. Each took 2 liras as allowance and Ali and
Hussein kept the rest to hide it in the basement of a certain Suhak’s house in Pulur
Village. Suhak provided not only shelter for the robbers, but also supplied them with
armory. Five of the bandits carried Mauser rifles and the others Martinis provided by
123 PMOA, DH.EUM.2.Şb 2/29, 30 Zilkade 1332 (20 October 1914); PMOA, DH.EUM.2.Şb 2/33, 2
Zilhicce 1332 (22 October 1914); PMOA, DH.EUM.2.Şb 3/35, 9 Safer 1333 (27 December 1914)
442
Suhak. After the robbery, the offenders were supposed to give the rifles back to a certain
Aras from the same village.124
Finally, a squad was able to catch one of the offenders in Of. He was an Armenian
soldier in the construction battalion (inşaat taburu) of Bayburt and the son of Ekşioğlu
Şirak from Izaka Village in Yomra. The fugitive soldier confessed that he was
responsible for the murder of gendarmeries Banko and Hassan from Şinhane. In the
meantime, the soldier offered fifty liras to the governor of Yomra sub-district to help him
escape, but to no avail. He also identified his partners in crime as Artin from Şinhane (the
son of a certain Keşişoğlu Eyüp), Ohannes from the family of Şişhanoğlus, Ali and
Hussein from Kerzi Village in Bayburt, Lamyo and Hristo from Karadere, Zadin and
Menas from Sürmene, Ohannes from Duruşedi Village in Bayburt, and three other people
from Kokoz Village in Akçaabad. According to the fugitive soldier, three of his partners
in crime were also deserters from Sürmene and the rest were registered to the
construction battalion in Bayburt. The majority of the robbers were Armenians; but the
gang also included a few Muslims and Ottoman Greeks.125
In addition to highlighting the collaboration between the Muslim and non-Muslim
subjects of the region for the common cause of highway robbery, this case also
demonstrates the intricate relationship between certain modernization policies of the
Ottoman state and the rise in highway robbery. Accordingly, the criminals in this event
were fugitive soldiers, in other words a byproduct of the modern state. In the aftermath of
the destruction of the Janissaries in 1826, the Ottoman state had tried to create a modern
124 Ibid.
125 Ibid.
443
army based on universal conscription during the course of the nineteenth century. Some
responded to this policy by resisting conscription. These men became fugitive soldiers,
just like the main characters in our last case of highway robbery here on the Trabzon-
Bayezid road in 1914. Thus, a modern state institution had created its own grave diggers
at the turn of the twentieth century.
Even though there is not enough data to claim that there were a lot of fugitive
soldiers involved in highway robbery, the fact that the same observation holds true for
some other groups of highway robbers like the Hamidiye Regiments and the gendarme –
as discussed above- reinforces the validity of this statement. Whereas these new
institutions were created by the Ottoman state to secure the countryside, the Kurdish
tribal members of the Regiments and the gendarmerie themselves ended up terrorizing
the rural areas. In turn, this fact may explain the longevity and persistence of highway
robbery in the post-1890 period.
Conclusion:
By 1914, highway robbery had become a chronic problem in northeastern
Anatolia; but the nature of this crime was determined by a variety of factors. Similar to
the period between 1850s and 1870s, highway robbers were active in a wide regional
network, which extended as far as Kemah, Erzincan, Sivas, Amasya, and Karahisar-ı
Şarki in the West, Mamuretülaziz in the South, Sürmene and Yomra in the North, and last
but not least Iran and Russia in the East. Since some highway robbers were also tobacco
smugglers, they had extensive ties with the local economy; a fact which explains the wide
regional scope of highway robbery.
444
Another similarity with the earlier period was the social background of the
bandits. For example, tribes’ involvement in highway robbery continued. However,
unlike the earlier period, tribes extended their area of influence in the post-1890 era.
Accordingly, the tribes in Erzurum were now able to rob travelers as far as Zigana
Mountain in Trabzon province. The increase in the power of the Kurdish tribes was
possible thanks to the establishment of the Hamidiye Regiments.126 As Duguid argues,
The creation of the Hamidieh regiments (1891) had given some of the
Kurdish tribes the impression that their traditional disregard for authority
was now legally sanctioned and the result was a gradual increase in the
level of Kurdish violence after 1891. For the Hamidieh system to function
properly the government would have had to have become much more
powerful in the region than it actually was, since in practice once a tribe
accepted Hamidieh status it was effectually removed from the jurisdiction
of the local governments. The local governments were seemingly unsure
how to react to these ‘official’ Kurds, believing them to have a special
relationship with the Sultan.127
In this context, members of the Hamidiye Regiments, who were actually supposed
to make the region safe, did not refrain from engaging in highway robbery themselves.
Last but not least, Russian and Iranian bandits were also able to enter Ottoman territories
and attack caravans just like they did in the pre-1890 period.
In addition to foreign subjects, Ottoman subjects also continued to be bandits in
the post-1890 period. One major difference from the earlier era, however, is the amount
of information on the ethnic identity of the Ottoman bandits. Whereas archival
documents were silent about the ethnic identity of Ottoman robbers and did not
differentiate between them in the earlier period, ethnic terms such as “Laz” and
126 For more information on the Hamidiye Regiments see Klein, The Margins of Empire.
127 Duguid, 147.
445
“Armenian” were frequently used in the 1890s. Although official documents accused the
Armenian revolutionaries as the prime suspects of robberies, Armenian residents of the
region were also prey to assaults initiated by the gendarmerie and tax farmers. Moreover,
as the attack on the postal caravan in 1914 clearly shows, sometimes Muslim, Armenian,
and Greek subjects of the empire formed gangs and worked together to rob travelers.
Finally, in addition to gendarmerie forces, some Ottoman soldiers were also bandits. This
became a serious problem especially during World War I when deserters from the army
started attacking travelers.
In response to this wide range of highway robbery, the Ottoman state diversified
its policies. Similar to the earlier period, authorities followed two tactics. Occasionally,
they relied on local notables to chase robbers while, at the same time, they tried to
increase the military forces in the region. A new solution proposed by some officials was
to increase the sedentary population in the vicinity of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. It was
hoped that a densely populated area would reduce the risk of highway robbery, where it
would be too difficult for the bandits to hide in the mountains and forests thanks to the
geographical characteristics of the region.
In the politically tense environment of the 1890s, authorities were especially
concerned about disarming the countryside, but their failure to do so led them to be
suspicious of the caravan operators and Ottoman villagers whom they accused of
collaborating with the robbers. Officials’ inability to end the violence made them lose
patience and led to legal scandals where innocent people were arrested without evidence.
The absence of experienced personnel in the provinces also prolonged the legal
procedure.
446
A new actor that frequently raised its voice against highway robbery and
smuggling in the 1890s was the Regie. Accordingly, the Regie wanted the Ottoman
military to get involved since the gendarmerie was not well equipped to prevent
smuggling. However, the Ottoman army was concerned about its own soldiers who were
at times sued because the gendarmerie, and not the military, was authorized to fire at
smugglers. Meanwhile, as Istanbul tried to meet the demands to supply modern weapons
to the gendarmerie, Ottoman subjects (including merchants and seasonal workers) also
wanted gun permits.
Thus, while the Trabzon-Bayezid road was expected to increase the authority of
the Ottoman state in northeastern Anatolia, it also continued to be a space where both
highway robbers and tobacco smugglers committed acts of violence in their pursuit of
profit. The road was especially dangerous in the post-1890 period. In other words,
although the renovation of the Trabzon-Bayezid road was expected to bring peace to the
region, in actuality, it further militarized the surrounding areas. Hence, the irony of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road persevered. Attempts to make the frontiers accessible via better
transportation facilities left the same roads and their travelers defenseless to attacks by
highway robbers. Thus, in addition to providing security, the Trabzon-Bayezid road also
spread violence in the region.
One question that begs an answer is why violence on the road escalated in the
post-1890 period. The increase in highway robbery can be considered within the context
in which violence in general occurred on a daily basis in Eastern Anatolia, especially in
the mid-1890s, when there were violent clashes between the Kurdish and Armenian
populations of the region. What kind of structural forces caused this outcome is
447
unfortunately beyond the scope of this dissertation. The type of documents found in the
Ottoman Archives do not help much in answering this question either as, in spite of all
the details they provide, none of them, not even a twenty-two page long testimony of
seven robbers who attacked a postal caravan in 1867 as discussed in the previous chapter,
provide the reasons as to why so many individuals, ranging from tribesmen to fugitive
soldiers, were engaged in highway robbery. At this point, I can only speculate and place
this phenomenon within the general socio-economic changes the region went through at
the turn of the twentieth century.
As I explained in Chapter Five, there is some evidence to claim that the 1890s
witnessed a growth in the exports of the locally produced goods. Based on other studies,
for instance Klein’s work, which relates the clashes between the Kurdish tribes and the
Armenians to the agrarian question, which caused changes in the land regime,128 one can
conclude that highway robbery constituted another venue through which the residents of
Eastern Anatolia expressed their concerns about livelihood and the transformations
caused by the commercialization of agriculture. But both the lack of enough evidence and
the heterogeneity of the highway robbers make it difficult to claim that they were
engaged in conscious resistance against the Ottoman state. Neither were they social
bandits who promoted the redistribution of wealth. On the contrary, while some robbers
who were affiliated with locally powerful men contributed to the further accumulation of
wealth in a few hands, others such as the deserters or the gendarmerie, who were poorly
paid resorted to banditry as a subsidiary-income.
128 Klein, The Margins of Empire.
448
EPILOGUE
ROAD POLITICS AND THE MODERN STATE: RIGHTS OR RESISTANCE?
Hope cannot be said to exist, nor can it be said not
to exist. It is just like roads across the earth. For
actually the earth had no roads to begin with, but
when many men pass one way, a road is made.
Lu Xun, My Old Home1
It cannot be a mystery to the state that a quick solution to our country’s
need for roads would have a huge impact on the future of this country. The
government, which is responsible for the future of the nation, must fix the
conditions that hinder the progress of this country and the well-being of its
public. We want roads. We cry out loud our poverty, which is a direct result
of the lack of roads. Forget about the roads which connect one village to
another, we are even deprived of roads which connect one district to
another. We cannot sell our products; we cannot purchase the goods that we
need. Today, transportation is impossible because rivers flood during this
season. If we lay side by side the bodies of our citizens who have drowned
in rivers due to the absence of bridges, it would be long enough to build
bridges on all of our rivers. But beware those who run this country! Those
who drown in rivers in the spring and fall, those who have to face blizzards
in winter, and those who fall off cliffs during the summer, just because you
do not tend to this country’s needs, are not stones but human beings that
God created. They are the most precious capital of this country. They are
our sons, our fathers, our brothers.2
1 Lu Xun, "My Old Home," in Chinese Civilization: A Sourcebook, ed. Patricia Buckley Ebrey (New York:
The Free Press, 1993), 359.
2 “Memleketin yola olan derece-i ihtiyacı ve bu ihtiyacın sürat-i mümküne ile izalesinin bu memleketin
hayat-ı istikbalesince ne kadar büyük tesiri olacagı vilayet-i penahilerine de meçhul olmamak lazım gelir.
Milletin mukadderat-ı atisinden mesul olan heyet-i hükümet vatanın terakki ve tealisine ahalinin kesb-i
servet ü saman etmesine mani olan halleri kaldırmalıdır. Biz yol istiyoruz. Yolsuzluk yüzünden duçar-ı fakr
ü zaruret oldugumuzdan bahisle feryat ediyoruz. Bizi köyden köye, nahiyeden nahiyeye degil kazadan
kazaya vasıl edecek yoldan mahrumuz. Mahsulümüzü satamıyoruz. Muhtaç oldugumuz seyleri alamıyoruz.
Su mevsim nehirlerin tasan zamanı oldugu için bugün bazı yerlerde mürur-u ubur münakkat oldu.
Köprüsüzlük yüzünden simdiye kadar nehirlerde bogulan vatandaslarımızın ecsadı biraraya getirilse
449
These are the words of the mayor of Erzurum who delivered a speech in 1910 at a
protest held in the city center to oppose the budget cuts concerning road constructions in
Erzurum. Earlier in 1910, the central government had promised that they would reserve
24,000 liras for road-building projects in Erzurum, start repairs on the Trabzon-Erzurum
and Erzurum-Erzincan-Bitlis roads in March, and begin the construction of a railroad line
between Erzurum and the Black Sea coast. Later in the same year, the state had reduced
this budget to 14,000 liras.3
In addition to the budget cuts, Istanbul had also failed to initiate road repairs even
though the construction season in the region lasted only five months. Last but not least,
only two engineers had arrived in Trabzon, but this was not enough to conduct a survey
for a railroad line which would be at least three hundred kilometers (186 miles) long.
Given these circumstances, according to the mayor, the people of Erzurum were justified
in thinking that the Ottoman government deliberately refused to work towards the
development of their province.4
The discontent of the populace was obvious to the foreign consuls as well. The
British consul of Erzurum commented on the issue:
It was announced that work was to begin in the early summer and that the
sum of 137,000l.T. (124,545l.) had been allotted to defray expenses during
1910, but the hopes of the population were disappointed when, in May, it
became known that the credit had been cut down by 124,000l.T.
enharımızın umumunun köprü yapılacak derecede azim bir kitle teskil eder. Hâlbuki insaf buyurun ey
evliya-i umur. Sizin ihtiyaç-ı memleketi derpis buyurmamanız yüzünden ilk ve son baharlarda nehirlerde
bogulan, kısın kar dibine tutulan, yazın yarlarlardan yuvarlanan mahlûkat tas degil cenap-ı hakkın
yarattıgı insandır. Memleketin en büyük en nemalı sermayesidir. Bizim oglumuz, babamız, kardesimizdir.”
PMOA, DH.ID 77/11, 6 Safer 1331 (15 January 1913)
3 Ibid.
4 Ibid.
450
(112,720l.), leaving only 13,000l.T. (11,818l.) for urgent repairs. . . . Three
French engineers consequently arrived in October, but, as the season was
then advanced, they returned in about three weeks to Trebizond, where they
are still. At the moment of writing there is no indication of anything being
done and it appears that financial considerations are likely to reduce the
scheme to more modest dimensions.5
It is in such an atmosphere that protestors started filling the square across the
governor’s office in Erzurum at 3 p.m. on April 30th 1910. They demanded to be resettled
somewhere else where there were better transportation facilities. Later in his speech, the
mayor asked Governor Mehmet Celal to start the construction of roads in the province
immediately. The mayor also promised to send individual telegraphs to the Grand
Vizierate, the Parliament, the Ministry of Interior, the Ministry of Finance, and the
Ministry of Public Works to articulate the protestors’ demands. The protestors announced
that if the residents of Erzurum did not receive any response from the government, they
would migrate to the developed regions of the empire.6
Governor Mehmet Celal, who had recently warned Istanbul about the current state
of roads in Erzurum, observed that some protestors specifically chanted slogans against
the government during the mayor’s speech. Some other speakers also delivered speeches,
describing the desperate conditions that the residents of Erzurum lived in because of the
absence of roads. The crowd dispersed after the governor promised to fulfill their
demands. The protestors threatened the governor that they would plan another
demonstration if they observed no progress in the public works of Erzurum soon.7
5 Foreign Office and the Board of Trade, Diplomatic and Consular Reports, Turkey, Report for the Year
1910 on the Trade of the Consular District of Erzeroum, Annual Series No. 4734, London, July 1911, p. 6.
6 PMOA, DH.ID 77/11, 6 Safer 1331 (15 January 1913)
7 Ibid.
451
Immediately after the protest, Governor Mehmet Celal sent a telegram to the
Ministry of Interior. He warned the central administration that the anger of the public
would not subside unless the Ministry of Public Works immediately started the
construction of roads. Istanbul’s response was short and concise. In its response two
weeks later, the ministry only explained that sending more than two engineers to Trabzon
for the survey of a railroad whose route was not yet determined would be futile!8
This social protest is a good example to argue that by the early twentieth century,
politics in the Ottoman Empire revolved around a discourse of “rights”. Even though this
concept –as we understand it today- was not used in official documents, private
newspapers had emphasized since the mid-nineteenth century that “states had obligations
to the public”.9 Many themes, which have already been discussed in this dissertation,
point out that this discourse of rights was not only the demand of an educated elite that
had the cultural capital to publish and read newspapers. This discourse, based on the
obligations of states and the rights of subjects, was in fact the direct result of the
emergence of the modern Ottoman state which was itself a byproduct of local and social
dynamics, as this dissertation tried to argue. In other words, the discourse of “rights” had
its practical connotation in the materiality of power relations and many other forms of
conflicts in the Ottoman society.
8 Ibid.
9 See Chapter Three in Gül Karagöz-Kızılca, “Voicing the Interests of the Public?” Contestation,
Negotiation, and the Emergence of Ottoman Language Newspapers during the Financial Crisis of the
Ottoman Empire, 1862-1875 (Unpublished Dissertation, State University of New York at Binghamton,
2011)
452
As discussed in Chapter Three, real estate owners and landholders in Trabzon and
Erzurum were aware of their property rights and did not hesitate to protect their holdings
if there was a threat of confiscation. Similarly, passengers on the Trabzon-Bayezid road
were also sensitive about their rights of passage and raised their voices against attempts
by local power holders and state officials to restrict their freedom of movement and the
free circulation of their ideas across the Ottoman Empire. At times, local initiatives by
Ottoman subjects changed the very legal context within which the newly emerging
modern state functioned, and generated such novelties as the definition of “rights”, as
observed in the case of the 1861 Road Charter.
Ottoman subjects were not only aware of their rights, but also cleverly evaded
their responsibilities and obligations. They frequently used the Trabzon-Bayezid road to
go to Istanbul even though they were not allowed to leave their hometowns. Similarly,
after the change in the forced labor system in 1889, Ottomans proved their ability to
manipulate laws, hence avoid both paying the road tax and working as forced labor.
While not abiding by their own “civic” obligations, commoners did not refrain from
demanding certain services from the state whose laws they did not obey. A good example
for this is the request by the residents of Gümüshane to change the route of the road near
their hometown so that it would pass through downtown Gümüshane. Finally, as this
epilogue about the protest of 1910 clearly shows, within the post-1908 revolutionary
context, Ottoman citizens preferred to actively participate in the political realm and did
not hesitate to raise their voices in public.
We do not have much information about the class or educational background of
the protestors; but we know that the mayor of Erzurum was definitely one of the
453
organizers of the demonstration. As the demonstrators gathered across the governor’s
office, speakers addressed the governor only as an intermediary agent who would
articulate their demands to the authorities in the capital. In other words, the protestors’
real target was the government in Istanbul. In this context, one cannot help but wonder
whether the protestors were in fact in opposition to the new constitutional regime or not.
Did they support the “reactionaries” who wanted to go back to the “good old times” of
the Hamidian rule? Or were the demonstrators “radicals” who actually thought that the
constitutional change was not enough to appease the needs of the empire? In this context,
is it possible to argue that the organizers of the protest used the absence of roads as a
discursive tool to challenge the broader political changes which the empire went through
in its last few decades? Can we speak of the demonstrators as a homogenous group or did
they convene at a certain time and at a certain place as a result of a contingent alliance
between diverse political groups with different agendas? Was the event pre-organized by
a politically conscious leadership or was it just a spontaneous action?10
Unfortunately it is not easy to answer these questions at this point; yet regardless
of the “real” nature of this protest, it is still important to acknowledge the collective
struggle by the residents of Erzurum for the welfare of their city. Their protest targeted
the state which failed to fulfill its responsibilities and obligations towards its population.
Thus, despite common assumptions which define people as victims of modern state
institutions who constantly sought to evade the power of the state, Ottoman citizens were,
in fact, demanding more state involvement. Instead of opposing road works, which would
10 For a discussion on social movements/revolutions see “Introduction” in Juan Ricardo Cole, Colonialism
and Revolution in the Middle East: Social and Cultural Origins of Egypt's 'Urabi Movement' (New Jersey:
Princeton University Press, 1993).
454
make them more exposed and vulnerable to the state and its agents (hence their policies
of taxation and conscription), Ottomans wanted their state to build more roads.11
This observation speaks to and supports one of the main arguments of this
dissertation; that modern states were locally and socially formed in a gradual and
fragmented process. In this sense, modern states were a response to everyday needs,
rather than ubiquitous and unified entities that overwhelmed the social realm. Thus, roads
were not necessarily the tools of elites to enhance their power, but also a need desperately
felt by the commoners. Therefore, even though I have not found evidence to present the
construction of the Trabzon-Erzurum road in the 1850s as a response to a demand by
local residents, the protest of 1910 clearly shows that locals were very much in favor of
an extended road network, at least by this date if not before. Therefore we can argue that
people’s resistance to the use of forced labor in road works and the collection of the road
tax was not a result of their “ignorance”. On the contrary, they knew that roads were
useful for them, too and were only protesting because they felt exploited during roads’
construction process.
As I discussed throughout the dissertation, local notables were among the most
proactive supporters of roads. However, depending on the specificities of locality and
11 A similar example is provided by Isa Blumi who shows how the local population of Yemen appreciated
the Ottoman road-building projects as “key developments that promised to open up economic opportunities
for otherwise marginal communities.” Isa Blumi, "Thwarting the Ottoman Empire: Smuggling through the
Empire's New Frontiers in Yemen and Albania, 1878-1910," in Ottoman Borderlands: Issues,
Personalities, and Political Changes, ed. Kemal Karpat and Robert Zens (Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press, 2003), 259. Similarly, Albanian subjects of the Ottoman Empire lobbied for the
construction of public schools in the late nineteenth century. This analysis contrasts with the existing
literature which identifies the modern schools of the Hamidian era as state instruments to create an Ottoman
population unified by Pan-Islamic ideology and the Ottoman subjects as victims of this homogenizing
policy. ———, Rethinking the Late Ottoman Empire, 110-12. ———, Reinstating the Ottomans:
Alternative Balkan Modernities, 1800-1912 (New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2011), 151-74.
455
time, a certain notable could either argue for or against the construction of a certain road,
as the cases related to confiscation and changes in routes clearly demonstrated. For
example, if a notable had to sacrifice his land or real estate for the construction of a road
or if a road would end up isolating a town (e. g. Rize) while reviving another (e. g.
Trabzon), it was likely for that particular notable to oppose the construction of that
particular road.
Similarly, even though we cannot talk about the demonstrators of 1910 as a
unified group, it is nonetheless important to observe that not only notables, but also
commoners had a stake in road politics. Thus, rather than seeing this demonstration as
people’s resistance to the Ottoman state, this epilogue proposes to consider it as another
step in the formation of the modern Ottoman state which was born out of local-social
demands and material needs of everyday life. As Mitchell points out, “as we must
abandon the image of the state as a free-standing agent issuing orders, we need to
question the traditional figure of resistance as a subject who stands outside the state and
refuses its demands.”12
12 Timothy Mitchell, "The Limits of the State: Beyond Statist Approaches and Their Critics," The American
Political Science Review 85, no. 1 (1991): 93.
456
CONCLUSION
Arriving at each new city, the traveler finds again a
past of his that he did not know he had: the
foreignness of what you no longer are or no longer
possess lies in wait for you in foreign, unpossessed
places.
Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities1
On April 8th 1914, the local notables of Bayburt sent a telegraph to the Ministry of
Interior asking that the administrative status of their town be upgraded from district to
sub-province. According to the notables, Bayburt was now a much more important
political center thanks to a variety of social, economic, geographic, military, and security
reasons. However, the residents of Bayburt still needed to cross Kop Mountain to go to
Erzurum for their administrative and judicial needs. Kop Mountain was notorious, with a
reputation as the ‘graveyard of many’ because it was too dangerous to travel on.
Therefore, if Bayburt were upgraded to the sub-provincial level, its residents would have
their own judicial and administrative offices in downtown Bayburt and would not have to
travel to Erzurum every time. According to the petitioners, maintaining the current status
of Bayburt at the district level not only prevented further development of the town, but
was also the reason behind so many casualties.2
1 Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1978), 28-29.
2 PMOA, DH.I.UM E-69/14, 12 Cemaziyülevvel 1332 (8 April 1914)
457
This petition was written only a few years before the collapse of the Ottoman
Empire, which shows that by World War I, the empire still lacked a well-connected and
efficient road system in the Trabzon-Erzurum region. What needs to be asked in this
context is how to interpret this fact. Was it a symptom that the empire was destined to
collapse because it failed to modernize? Or is a more nuanced account of the changes that
the empire went through in the nineteenth century possible? In other words, is it possible
to reread the Ottoman phase of the so-called modernization period with a new lens based
on various aspects of the Trabzon-Bayezid road’s reconstruction process?
This dissertation provided an account of the social history of the Trabzon-Bayezid
road in the post-1850 period to answer these questions. In this period, natural conditions
were one of the main reasons as to why traveling from one part of the empire to another
was extremely difficult. Snowstorms, blizzards, avalanches, heavy rainfall, floods, and
earthquakes were real problems that the state had to deal with in order to facilitate
transportation on land. Sections of the Trabzon-Bayezid road also needed repair
repeatedly because of harsh weather conditions. Yet, challenges posed by nature were not
the only problem that the state was confronted with on roads. People’s resistance to
forced labor in road construction, technological deficiencies, banditry, the spread of
epidemic diseases, restrictions to freedom of mobility, disagreements among officials,
and corruption were some of the other factors that delayed the use of roads on a regular
basis.
In the nineteenth century, the Ottoman state engaged in a wide-scale road reform
as part of its modernization policies. Two main goals were to create a unified imperial
market and an imperial geography. In other words, the reform agenda had two major
458
dimensions, economic and administrative. On the one hand, authorities tried to facilitate
agriculture and commerce, thereby bringing prosperity to Ottoman subjects, especially
the peasantry who suffered from indebtedness. On the other hand, the state wanted to
make provinces more accessible to the imperial center, and thus increase security within
the empire. This emphasis on unifying the imperial territories for both economic and
administrative purposes is what sets the nineteenth century road reform apart from earlier
road-building projects. For centuries, roads had important economic functions within
certain regional markets as well as their military functions against foreign enemies. What
was new in the nineteenth century was the idea of unifying the regional economies and
integrating them into an imperial market. Additionally, roads gained a new “military”
role in terms of guaranteeing the security of the empire not only against foreign enemies,
but also against its own subjects, such as tribesmen who might challenge the state’s
authority.
Taking these two goals of Ottoman road policies for granted, the existing
literature on the nineteenth century road reform analyzes the subject within the
modernization theory framework. Accordingly, roads are seen as a means of creating a
rational bureaucracy in line with the “Westernization” policies of the late Ottoman state.
Second, roads integrated the Ottoman economy into the world market. Last but not least,
roads served not only the Ottoman state but also Ottoman society by increasing
individual communication networks. In this picture, roads are seen as a useful instrument
for both Ottoman statesmen and subjects, and there is little room to see how the so-called
modernization policies were actually implemented and challenged in practice.
459
In order to overcome this drawback, this dissertation proposed to localize the
history of the Ottoman road reform by focusing on the history of a particular road, the
Trabzon-Bayezid road. By doing this, this dissertation brought forward the stories of a
variety of different socio-economic and ethnic groups who had a stake in the construction
of this road. All of these groups had different and often conflicting interests and agendas.
Therefore, rather than presenting the road as a “public good,” this dissertation tried to
highlight the contradictions and paradoxes which were inherent to its construction. In
turn, these contradictions showed how the modernization of the Ottoman Empire was not
a smooth and linear process, but was, in fact, filled with dilemmas and ironies. Finally,
acknowledging the existence of these dilemmas helped to place the abstract notion of the
modern Ottoman state on its feet. As one of the modern state’s institutions, the Trabzon-
Bayezid road functioned within a material, social, and local context.
One of the groups which challenged the Ottoman state’s goals in constructing the
road were the local residents who were required to serve as forced labor according to
several regulations enacted in the second half of the nineteenth century. The state was
forced to employ the local population as forced labor because of labor shortage.
However, local authorities faced many difficulties in organizing the forced labor during
the construction process. First, on certain occasions, locals resisted working as forced
labor mainly because the road was at a great distance from their homes. Second, the
region was not densely populated, which made it very difficult for officials to effectively
organize the dispatch of people to the construction sites. Therefore, throughout the
nineteenth century, the Ottoman state experimented with the forced labor system and
tried to convert it to a monetized form of road taxation.
460
Existing literature analyzes the shift from forced labor to the road tax as a symbol
of Ottoman modernization and as a conscious attempt by the central government to
capitalize the Ottoman economy. The application of the forced labor system in the
Trabzon-Erzurum region, however, points out quite the opposite. There was, actually, a
local initiative to switch to the road tax, but the central government was initially against
this idea because it feared that corrupt local authorities might use the collected money for
their personal benefit. Thus, what is represented in the literature as a symbol of Ottoman
modernity was actually born in a local context and was a (late) response to a local
demand.
The second group who explicitly challenged the Ottoman state’s mission to bring
security to the region via the Trabzon-Bayezid road was the highway robbers. Yet, the
existence of robbers on this route does not necessarily confirm that there was resistance
to the Ottoman road reform because there is no evidence that highway robbers
consciously pursued a political agenda against the Ottoman state. What is interesting,
however, is the regional networks within which highway robbery functioned. These
regional networks not only transcended Ottoman boundaries and infiltrated into
Transcaucasia and northern Iran. As part of these regional networks, certain Ottoman
local officials were also patronizing the highway robbers. Thus, instead of a dichotomy
between the Ottoman state and highway robbers, there was actually a more intricate
relationship between the two groups.
Second, some groups who constituted highway robbers, such as the Hamidiye
Regiments, tribesmen, the gendarme, tobacco smugglers, and fugitive soldiers, were
actually byproducts of certain Ottoman modernization policies such as sedentarizetion,
461
conscription, and commercialized agriculture. This fact highlights one of the paradoxes
of the formation of the modern state in the late Ottoman context. In a way, modern state
institutions created their own gravediggers.
Another group who challenged the Ottoman state’s authority on roads was
migrants. As discussed above, one of the goals of the road reform was to bring prosperity
and welfare to the Ottoman countryside by facilitating commerce and agriculture through
better transportation facilities. The Ottoman state partially succeeded in this respect
because there is some evidence that there was a rise in local trade at the turn of the
twentieth century. These increased market relations, however, made the locals more
vulnerable in crisis situations such as drought and famine.
Especially during the 1892-1894 famine, which heavily affected the Erzurum
region, the Ottoman state faced many difficulties in bringing back to the region basic
food supplies. Paradoxically, while authorities could not make use of roads to reach this
frontier during the famine because roads were blocked by snow, locals made use of the
Trabzon-Bayezid road to migrate to other parts of the empire, which had access to food.
Thus, whereas roads were seen as a promoter of welfare and prosperity in the midnineteenth
century, they functioned as a means of spreading the poverty of the Ottoman
peasantry throughout the empire at the turn of the twentieth century.
In addition to these three social groups –labor, bandits, and migrants-, there were
also conflicts within the state structure. First, even though Trabzon and Erzurum needed
the road to overcome the natural barriers which separated the two provinces, the
governors of Trabzon and Erzurum could not agree on many aspects of the Trabzon-
Bayezid road. For Trabzon, the main function of the road was commercial because as the
462
port city of eastern Anatolia, Trabzon wanted to extract as many resources as possible
from the region. Therefore, the provincial government in Trabzon supported the
foundation of private coach companies, which would speed up the transportation between
the two provinces and thus increase traffic.
As for Erzurum, the main function of the road was military because the city was
the headquarters of the Fourth Army throughout most of the nineteenth century.
Consequently, the governors of Erzurum rejected the establishment of coach companies
because they feared that the privatization of transportation on the Trabzon-Bayezid road
might jeopardize the Ottoman state’s sovereignty in the region, especially in times of
war. Coach companies with monopolistic tendencies could sever the ties between the two
provinces and refuse to transport weapons and armory to the frontier regions. Last but not
least, the provincial government in Erzurum was in favor of the construction of an
alternative route instead of the Trabzon-Bayezid road. Provincial authorities promoted
the renovation of the Erzurum-Rize road, which would connect Erzurum to the Black Sea
coast in a shorter and more direct way.
The residents of Rize supported the suggestion of the provincial government in
Erzurum even though Rize was administratively part of Trabzon. They wanted to be able
to compete with Trabzon, the capital of the province, and to become the biggest port city
on the eastern Black Sea coast. This point, once more, highlights the regional context of
the Trabzon-Bayezid road and the conflicting claims over it. Accordingly, Lazistan subprovince,
which Rize was administratively part of, had more economic contact with
Transcaucasia than any region of the Ottoman Empire. Many residents of this region
were seasonal emigrants who found jobs in Russian mines. It is for these reasons that the
463
provincial government in Erzurum wanted to construct the Rize road so as to increase the
connection between eastern Anatolia and this isolated part of Trabzon.
Meanwhile, Russia was building roads and railroads in Caucasia, which
challenged the Ottoman state’s authority in the region even more. The Trabzon-Bayezid
road served as the main route which connected northern Iran to Europe. Russia aimed at
shifting the transit trade between Iran and Europe to its own territories and thus depriving
the Ottoman Empire from this invaluable source of income. Ottomans were not the only
one who felt threatened by this Russian initiative. Many European powers, and especially
the British, wanted to stop the Russian advance further south because they feared that
Russia could threaten the connections between India and Europe. Hence, the “Great”
powers of Europe were also interested in the fate of the Trabzon-Bayezid road and
insisted that the Ottomans should keep this route in good shape in order to maintain the
Iranian transit trade.
Finally, two other factors, financial and technological restraints, challenged the
Ottoman state’s claims to bring prosperity and security to the region via the Trabzon-
Bayezid road. Due to lack of money, the Ottoman state failed to repair the road on several
occasions. Therefore, towards the end of the nineteenth century, there was an effort to
privatize the construction and repair processes by turning over the responsibility first to
contractors and then to companies. At the same time, the resistance of locals to pay the
road tax also added to the financial burdens of the central government. The inexperience
of the engineers also postponed the construction efforts on several occasions. Especially
in the initial stages of the construction, the engineers had a hard time in understanding the
local geography and adjusting their techniques accordingly. But even in later years, the
464
mountainous topography of the region and the harsh weather conditions such as frequent
rain, floods, and heavy snowstorms made it almost impossible to maintain the road.
Therefore, some officials seriously considered abandoning the road for good in favor of
alternative routes which connected eastern Anatolia to the Black Sea, such as the Rize
road, mentioned above.
In conclusion, due to these reasons, the construction of the Trabzon-Bayezid road
proved to be a major challenge, rather than a successful symbol of Ottoman
modernization. As such, when the empire was about to collapse in the early twentieth
century, locals still suffered from and complained about the “absence” of roads in the
region. Ottoman subjects’ acknowledgement of roads as useful and necessary instruments
for their own benefit suggests that at least some segments of the local population were in
favor of the Ottoman road reform. Therefore, rather than seeing the construction of roads
only as a state initiative to modernize the country, this dissertation proposed to socialize
and localize the history of Ottoman roads in the nineteenth century by focusing on a
particular route. This localization and socialization of the Ottoman road reform agenda, in
turn, uncovered the stories of various actors whose interests were at stake.
465
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