A new look at the Tanzimat: The case of the Province of Jerusalem 9004077928

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A new look at the Tanzimat: The case of the Province of Jerusalem
 9004077928

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A New Look at the Tanzimat: The Case o f the Province of Jerusalem HAIM GERBER The view held by m ost scholars on the 19th century Ottom an reform seems to be a negative one. Many have reached the conclusion that the reforms failed to bring about any substantial change for the good. Such lofty sentiments as are expressed in the edicts o f 1839, 1856, and the constitution o f 1876, are supposed to have remained a dead letter. The good intentions o f the men of the Tanzimdt were nullified by the resistance coming from an often reluctant sultan, corrupt officialdom, and hard-headed local elites. At the same time, some observers lamented those measures o f reform that d id have some effect. They deplored, for example, the fact th at the old political institutions were totally wiped out, while nothing viable replaced them. A characteristically antiOttom an interpretation asserts that some o f the reforms brought about corrupt and laughable consequences, that were the opposite o f the intentions o f the Tanzimat leaders. Thus, instead of the old Ottoman bureaucrat there appeared a kind o f semi-Westemized semi-Oriental type o f bureaucrat, who was imbued with neither of these two cultures, whose dress and behavior were a mishmash o f the two and who was, on top o f everything, poorly paid, and therefore greedy and prone to take bribes.1 It is the intention o f this article, to show that this picture, although not totally false, nevertheless misses some subtle, but important changes which did take place in the structure of the Ottoman bureaucratic system. It must be emphasized that only the Ottom an bureaucray itself is dealt with. H ad other aspects o f the life o f the country in the 19th century also been considered, it would probably be still easier to demonstrate that a tangible change was occurring. But then there would have been the methodological problem of having to attribute various changes to different causes, such as the influence of foreign powers and the like. Provided only the Ottoman bureaucracy itself is examined it can be safely assumed that outside factors possibly contributed to the initial push. But most of the changes to be reviewed below were in all probability self-generated by the Tanzimat movement itself. This study is in a way an outgrowth o f a former study, which sought to describe minutely the O ttoman administration in Jerusalem a t the beginning of the 20th century,2 that is, more or less a t the end o f the reform movement. The main source for that first study was a rare (though small) Ottom an archive situated in the Israel State Archives.* The main part of that archive comprises the protocols o f the administrative council o f Jerusalem, extending over three

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years at the beginning o f the 20th century. This body was probably one o f the m ost typical reforms o f the Tanpm dl era.4 It convened several times a week and discussed everything brought before it by the province’s authorities. The idea arose that it would be quite revealing to compare the pattern which emerged from the first study to the traditional, pre-Tanffmdt Ottoman bureaucracy of Palestine, that is, roughly in the first half o f the 19th century.’ The m ost im portant achievement of the O ttoman government in 19th century Palestine was a substantial improvement in public security. It is clear that its absence was the foremost reason for the country’s previous decline. Geographically the country is mainly divided into the coastal plain and the m ountain area. While the coastal region as a potential area for settlement exceeds the m ountain area several times over, the situation in Ottoman Palestine was that the former region was alm ost totally deserted, while the m ountains were quite densely populated.4 This obviously suggests a situation where lack of public security was an inherent characteristic. O n the other hand, it is also evident from this basic fact, that the Ottom an government was strong enough to prevent any local force from consolidating itself as a central authority within the country, an authority which would be able to reduce lawlessness. The instrum ent for the d eterioration in the country was of course the nomads. In a country situated on the border o f the desert, whenever the government weakened militarily o r politically, the encroachmment by nomads advanced.7 Beginning in the 17th and 18th centuries, intrusions by nomads resulted in large areas o f land becoming desolate. Although the nomads could not penetrate into the mountainous region, other factors were operating there which made the O ttoman government’s authority a mere sham. The main factor was a powerful local elite, composed o f opposing village o r district shaykhs, among whom strife, often violent, was almost incessant.® It is evident that as long as this state o f near a narchy prevailed, any potential development (whether economic o r political) was virtually ruled out. This period ended around the middle o f the 19th century, when the Ottom an government began to implement in Palestine the first reforms o f the Tanzimat. It is well known that initially the Ottoman government’s main efforts were intended to consolidate its hold over its dominions. In the 1850s and 1860s, in a series of clashes with the Ottom an army, m ost o f these local rebellious forces were wiped out, or a t least reduced to insignificance.9 The supremacy of O ttom an a uthority in Palestine was never again thrown into question. T he very term village shaykhs seems to have disappeared, its place being taken by the muhtdr, that is, a tame official in the O ttom an administration, completely subservient to the mudTr, o r governor o f the ndhiye. 10 One o f the most effective measures by which the Ottom an administration established itself unequivocally over the country was the gendarmerie. This is one o f the many loan words which entered the Ottoman bureaucratic vocabulary in the latter half o f the 19th century. The extremely im portant place the gendarmerie occupied in the life of the province at the beginning o f the 20th

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century is widely reflected in the protocols of the council. It was the gendarmerie which checked on people who applied for residence permits in Jerusalem,11 and it was the gendarmerie which supervised the election procedure for the office of mufjtar in the villages.12 The protocols of the administrative council may sometimes be one-sided. It is therefore important that other sources corroborate this view about the resurgence of Ottoman authority at the expense of the village elite. In a letter written towards the end of the 19th century about land disputes between Jews and Arabs in the southern coastal plain there is a clear account of the relationship between the village headmen (muhtars) and the governor of Gaza.11 These village headmen were completely subservient to the governor. Other contemporary sources are even more outspoken about these power relations. One such account states: The Turkish soldiers are like leprosy to the Arab villagers. Two of them were enough to dismay a whole village. They used to come mounted on horses, sit in the village, holding in their hands an old “fetching order” for someone in the village. The shaykh was forced to bring that man, and as long as he did not bring him, the soldiers would sit and eat the village fowl, slaughter sheep and drink sweetened coffee, and their horses would eat barley clean of straw, which each of the villagers would bring daily to the shaykh’s house.14 This view about the change in the power relations between the Ottoman government in Palestine and the local village elite somewhat contradicts the conclusion reached by G. Baer, in his study of village headmen in Palestine in the 19th and 20th centuries.15 Baer reached the conclusion that while the Ottomans did try to curb the power of the village shaykhs, they were not successful in this. He admits that the muhtdr became a mere governmental official, but suggests that there was no transformation from the shaykh to the mufjtar.16 This point is probably at least partially true. The question certainly awaits further research. One of the sources cited above mentions the shaykh as the official whose power was reduced by the Ottoman administration.17 The most likely explanation seems to be that a limited number of shaykhs remained powerful and prestigious, but their authority was invoked only rarely. At the same time, the day to day business of administering the village (taxes, land registration and disputes, reporting on various events and the like), was carried out by the muhtars. The power of the nomads in western Palestine was demolished no less than the power of the village shaykhs. One of the clearest contemporary descriptions showing this comes from the pen of Laurence Oliphant. In 1883 Oliphant observed about the northern part of the country: ...The Bedouins are being pushed gradually east of the Jordan, and it is now becoming more and more rare for an Arab encampment to be seen

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in the neighborhood of the more settled and prosperous part of the country...18 Especially pertinent was the case of the plain of Esdraelon, always occupied by Bedouin. On the situation here Oliphant had the following to say: Readers will be surprised to learn that almost every acre of the plain of Esdraelon is at this moment in the highest state of cultivation; that it is perfectly safe to ride across it unarmed in any direction, as I can testify; that, so far from plundering and despoiling villages, the few Bedouins, whose “black tabernacles” are not confined to the southern margin of the plain, have, in their turn, become the plundered and despoiled, for they are all reduced to the position of being subject to inexorable landlords, who charge them exorbitantly for the land which they occupy and for which they pay in hard cash, under penalty of instant ejection, which is ruthlessly enforced so that the inhabitants of the villages, with which the plain is now dotted live in perfect security.19 This observation about the drastic reduction in the power of the Bedouins is fully corroborated by one Bedouin chief in the Beisan plain, in an interview which he gave to two Arab scholars in 1913. In the past, he said, they could do anything they wished, but in 1913, “ that despised chief, who is heading a tribe of some three or four thousand people, is depressed and oppressed. He is subject to the contempt of the simplest official”.20 Nor was Oliphant the only European observer to voice the aforementioned view. It was also expressed by several Zionist observers, none of whom is to be suspected of any special fondness for the Ottoman government. Thus, Y. Yelin observed, as early as 1872, that the Bedouin threat on the road between Jerusalem and the Jordan river was practically nil, although he may have been exaggerating a little.21 In 1890 Hissin observed that “the Turkish rule now becomes stronger and stronger. Slowly it restrains the wild shaykhs, and it now already levies taxes from the most rebellious tribes and forces them to submit to the government” .22 And Usishkin observed in 1891: There arc still on the road the remains of the booths in which ten years ago guards were stationed to protect the road to Jerusalem. But now these guards are no more. For now even in dark night there is no danger on the road.” All this is not intended to claim that security on roads in western Palestine was by then perfect. But it seems that the chronic lack of security was definitely improved, and that this was achieved by the Ottoman government. Some important phases in the fight against nomads find wide expression in the protocols of the Jerusalem council. Relatively large number of documents relate to the region of Beersheba. Only in 1900 was there a settlement in this area, by a deliberate action of the Ottoman government.24 Notwithstanding the

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HAIM GERBER fact that the population here was very small, more documents deal with this region than with any other area in the province apart from Jerusalem itself. The reason for this was undoubtedly the preoccupation of Jerusalem’s administration with the problem o f the Bedouins. A n additional reason was the fact that the council o f Jerusalem constituted, in some matters, an appeal tribunal for the reformed court in Beersheba. It has been shown above that by the beginning o f the 20th century the Bedouin threat was gone. The establishment of Beersheba meant more than just that: it was a deep intrusion into the nomads' way o f life. One of the first ways in which this was done was mediating in land conflicts. One such major conflict mentioned in o u r sources is th at between the tribes o f ‘Azizmeh and the Tiyahfl. At the beginning o f the 20th century this conflict was already forty or fifty years old, and the council o f Jerusalem had dealt with it several times. More than once it aroused violent struggles between the tribes. A committee composed o f high officials in the province went to Beersheba at the close o f the 19th century and mediated between the two sides. This, however, was not the end of the m atter, since the land had to be registered. Fo r the Bedouin chiefs it looked natural that the land would be registered in their names, but the government viewed the situation differently.25 W hat was at issue here was of course the conflict between the traditional Bedouin concept o f land tenure, of which the basis was the dtra, or wandering area o f the tribe, and the new concept of land tenure, registration in the name of the individual. T hat the new concept was beginning to penetrate the Bedouins’ traditional world-view is made clear in several documents. One such group o f documents records a conflict over a piece of land held by the tribe o f the ‘AzSzmeh. A discussion arose between them and the Ottom an government, as it was not entirely clear how the land was possessed. One document relates th at the Bedouins cultivated the land very intensively so that every now and again they would abandon it for a number of years, so that legally their right of possession would expire. But the document goes on to say that since the establishment of the town of Beersheba the Bedouin owners had begun to till the land regularly and permanently. Consequently the establishment o f the township had a visible effect on the sedenterization o f the neighboring nomads.24 The Beersheba region was n ot the only one where there were Bedouins who were not connected in any way to the O ttoman government. Another such area was the Judean desert. From its protocols we know that the Jerusalem council was involved in land mediations also in this region.27 Concerning the extinction o f the power o f the Judean desert Bedouins, there is also an excellent on the spot corroborating account supplied by fialdensperger. His account relates to the 1920s, but is very relevant to our case: These tribes, though they call themselves A rab, are agricultural nomads, and are best known in the markets o f Jerusalem and Bethlehem for the early cucumbers which they grow in the warm regions in the spring and

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sell at cheap prices. Though now very harmless, some fifty years ago they were the terror o f all villages bordering on the Judean desert. There were always feuds with small detachments o f troops, and they were so audacious as to kill the officials in the plain of Rephaim, the baka, before Jerusalem. The fatal blow was given them only by the capture of the much-feared Sheikh Safi-ej-jer in 1865, when the Pasha o f Jerusalem at the head o f a battalion o f soldiers got the better of him in Bethlehem. Since then the T a‘amry have been greatly reduced, their only privilege being that they escape conscription, as do all who live in tents.28 The assertion contained in the last sentence does not seem to be generally true. The protocols o f the Jerusalem council indicate that Bedouins all over the country had begun to pay taxes. Thus, one document records th a t the Rashayda tribe paid taxes.29 The T a’amira tribe at the beginning of the 20th century paid tithes on its agricultural produce. In 1906/7 that tax was estimated at about 1600 Turkish pounds.30 There are even indications that the Bedouins o f the northern Negev paid taxes a t this period.31 The Ottom an government’s consolidation o f control over the country in the latter half o f the 19th century was undoubtedly the most important change in this period. But at the same time other changes were taking place. One such change which comes readily to mind when comparing the beginning o f the 20th century with the beginning of the 19th century was a substantial difference in the very presence o f the Ottoman administration. One o f the expressions o f the Tanzfmdl in the provinces was the gradual appearance o f new administrative bodies, governing new administrative areas, and especially the commune, or nahiye. Elsewhere I have shown that the pace o f establishment of these administrative bodies was a far cry from what was laid down in the vildyet laws.32 A t the beginning o f the 20th century there were in Palestine only a handful o f such nahiyes, but the period was brisk in the form ation o f new ones. I maintain that even this outwardly simple fact of establishment o f new administrative centers suggests a more modernized working o f the administration. This is so because it seems that the preTanpm at adm inistration was characterized, among other things, by very few contacts with the ordinary citizens. Thus, from A. Cohen’s book on 18th century Palestine it can be understood that administrative areas below the level o f sancak were scarcely meaningful except in relation to taxation.33 In Palestine sancak offices would be located in three towns at the most. Consequently, it is possible that m ost ordinary citizens rarely saw an Ottom an official. This undoubtedly carried with it some advantages in the 18th century. But probably no more so a t the beginning of the 20th century. Another field w here one can observe a clear process o f modernization in the w orking o f the O ttom an administration is the attitude taken by officials and their political and bureaucratic behavior. The discussion o f this point can be divided into two. One is the position o f the governor vis-i-vis the central

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government, and the other is the position o f the governor vis-a-vis the officials working under him. On both scores substantial change was visible between the beginning of the 19th century and the beginning o f the 20th. At the beginning o f the 19th century the power o f coercion enjoyed by the central government over the provincial governor seems to have been very slight. Moreover, while in theory the provinces were graded so that each smaller area constituted a p a rt o f a larger province, in practice this was o f little consequence. By the same token, each ruler viewed his post not as something entrusted to him in order to achieve a specific task, but as a personal asset.M This viewpoint may be termed “ atomization” of the Ottoman provincial administration. Each province constituted a world unto itself. And it is exactly 18th century Palestine which constitutes one o f the best examples for this bureaucratic pattern, and one has only to think about P a h ir al-‘Umar and Ahmed Jezzar. The second point concerns the political and even legal relations between the provincial governor and his staff. The classical Ottoman Empire was characterized by what, following Max Weber, may be called household government.3’ This means th at the ruler’s officials were a t the same time his personal defendants o r in other words, members o f his household. The staff of Ahmed Jezzar was totally subservient to him as full-fledged slaves, even though that was not their legal status. They were “ his men” during working hours as much as afterwards. In fact, probably no such separation existed in practice. A careful investigation of the behavior o f the Ottom an administration of Jerusalem a t the beginning of the 20th century, leads to the surprising realization that this dual model of provincial bureaucracy was totally swept away during the Tanzm dt era. From the available information it is abundantly clear that the ruler of Jerusalem was a tame bureaucrat, in a carefully graded hierarchy.36 Such a ruler could not even dream o f building for himself a semiautonomous principality, from which no one would be able to dislodge him. In the first place it was a question of expectation: the expectation o f a Jezzar at the start o f the 19th century would be to augment his power and autonomy, rather than to seek promotion by way o f receiving a m ore important position in another province. Such an expectation would be unthinkable for an Ekrem Bey at the beginning of the 20th century. But going beyond expectations, it is also a question of bureaucratic structure. While Jezzdr had an army at his disposal, Ekrem Bey did not have a single soldier under his full command.37 Concomitantly, while JezzSr’s officials were members o f his household and were subject to his dictatorial will, Ekrem Bey at the beginning of the 20th century could give no orders to his employees, and in any case could not ensure compliance with such orders. He could hardly go as far as to dismiss officials. The separation between his own household and the staff o f officials could not be more perfect than it was, and Weber’s model, at this point a t least, was admirably realized. In this case, although no Tanzlmat law related to the m atter

THE CASE OF THE PROVINCE OF JERUSALEM directly, in a very subtle way the structure o f the O ttom an bureaucracy was completely transformed. Another administrative sphere which was substantially modernized in the province o f Jerusalem was taxation. It is well known that this was one of the m ost thorny problem s th a t plagued the Ottom an Empire before the Tanzlmdt era. It was not taxation as such, but rather the way taxes were levied which was the problem , and it concerned the system of farming o ut agricultural tithes — iltizdm. It is widely accepted th at the iltizdm was one o f the gravest shortcomings o f the O ttom an administrative system. Its abrogation in the edicts o f 1839 was considered to be a fundamental reform .38 But these Ottom an edicts were completely ineffective.39 Nevertheless, the description o f the institution o f tax farming a t the beginning o f the 20th century makes it quite clear that the institution was in fact dramatically altered.40 While in the first half o f the 19th century tax farmers would levy practically any proportion of the p roduce they chose, this was far from being the case at the beginning o f the 20th century. The protocols o f the council makes it clear that the iltizdm was reduced to a mere shadow o f its form er self. This is shown for example by the fact th a t in large areas of the province the iltizdm was not used, but rather, more regular forms, less onerous to the peasants and p robably more profitable to the government. And even in those areas where the iltizdm was still in vogue, sometimes no candidate appeared who would farm out the tithes. This, of course, is an unlikely occurrence in a situation where the tax farm er has effective control over the countryside. It can be asked how this transform ation from the old-style tax farming to the new type took place. After all, the Ottom an government intended to abolish the iltizdm altogether, not to transform it into a more moderate form. It seems that the answer to this had to do with the changing level of administrative effectiveness and orderliness characterizing the early 20th century government o f Palestine. This is reflected, for example, in the way the conferring of tax farms took place. It is not a t all clear how the process o f auctioning the tax farms was done in the pre-Tantfm dt period, but it can be imagined that under-the-table arrangements used to play a substantial role. Undoubtedly they d id so also at the beginning o f the 20th century, but probably to a much lesser degree. The auction was done by regular procedure and had a fixed opening date and a deadline. Offers were often placed with the authorities through the telegraph, sometimes from other provinces. At one time somebody suggested an “ offer" which arrived one day late, and so was disregarded and the leasing contract was duly signed. The man appealed to the ministry and claim ed th at the last day of the leasing period was the day o f the sultan’s accesion and therefore an official holiday. His request was granted, while pointing out the article in the tithe law which allowed this interpretation.41 This is only a small example of w hat seems to be a relatively more exact and orderly procedure, in all likelihood far superior to anything that had gone before in O ttom an history.

GERBER Another area where modernization was apparent was the legal system. W ithout entering into a full-fledged sociological analysis o f the traditional legal system of the Ottoman Empire, one im portant characteristic is noteworthy, and pertinent to the present study.42 This is connected to Weber’s analysis of Islamic law. Weber suggested a fourfold analysis o f the legal systems of the world.43 One type was designated by him as “ kadi-justice” , but obviously, he only used the Islamic case as a prototype o f a more general phenomenon. Nevertheless his characterization seems quite relevant to the Ottom an case, if not to the Islamic system in general. W hat Weber meant by “ kadi-justice” was a legal system where there are few strict rational rules on the basis o f which the judge operates, but rather, he acts according to intuition. As can be appreciated only through reading Aradf-protocols o f the O ttoman Empire, this description is surprisingly precise. The Ottom an k a d i had no written code of laws to guide him. He had o f course the orthodox m anuals, some o f which are considered superb. But there was also state law (kanun) to be taken into consideration, as well as local custom. W hat he would decide in any specific case was entirely up to him. He had to explain his decision to no one, and most legal decisions in the Ottoman court protocols are not justified. A would-be robber in the Ottoman Empire might equally anticipate am putation o f a limb, or being sent for any number of years to serve in the galleys. Precisely for this reason one does not find in the Ottom an legal system professional lawyers.44 If nobody could analyse the process leading to a decision, then evidently, no defence could be predictably prepared. An appeal system in the real sense of the term was also lacking. It is true that sometimes a case might be reviewed by some sort o f higher legal authority. But this can hardly qualify as an appeal, since it was in effect a new trial. The first trial could not be re-examined since there was no real debate and no arguments based on the various niceties o f the There are clear signs that this traditional legal system was undergoing substantial changes in various respects. There are only hints o f these changes because of methodological problems. The problem is that so far no information whatsoever has come to light on the working o f the new-style ni?am i(reformed) courts, which constituted the backbone o f the new Ottoman legal system. But alternatively, some insights are available in the protocols of the Jerusalem council which, while strictly speaking not a court,45 was nevertheless a semi-judicial body, and in some respects even a full-fledged court. From the m ode o f working o f this body it can readily be seen that there existed a great difference between it and the old-style courts. To begin with, the protocols o f the council are sometimes difficult to comprehend because o f the large number o f references to earlier relevant material, and especially to various articles o f law. Moreover, the type o f legal reasoning is much closer to modem legal thinking. The concept o f “special circumstances” , specific to a particular case, is apparent in many documents. This was an inconceivable concept in the old legal thinking o f the k d d icourts. The concept o f appeal from

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one instance to another can also be seen to exist. Also, a document in the w riter’s own possession is in effect an appeal d ocument presented to a certain ni?dm i c ourt somewhere in the Empire (and this seems to be the only such document that so far has come to light). Thus, it is also positively proven that the process o f appeal really existed in the practice o f the new-style courts established by the Tanzfmdt. Municipalities were one type o f new institution introduced by the Tanzfmdt movement in the last third o f the 19th century. Several issues are involved with the question o f municipalities, and they serve to illustrate the modernization of the O ttom an a dm inistration o f Palestine in m ore than one way. To begin with, the very establishment o f the municipality as a corporate legal body, a t least partially independent o f the government, is a revolution in the context o f the all-embracing traditional O ttoman administration. And a t least according to Eisenstadt’s m odel o f political modernization, this is a more sophisticated form than earlier ones.46 Secondly, the main task of the municipalities in Ottom an Palestine was the provision o f services, and here also was hidden an im portant aspect of modernization. Thirdly, in the process o f nominating municipal officials in Jerusalem at the beginning o f the 20th century one can detect some interesting flirtations with democratic elections which, although a far cry from modem democratic elections, cannot be dismissed as a sham. It should be emphasized th at within the context o f the Islamic legal tradition, the establishment of municipalities is to be considered a substantial revolution. O rthodox Muslim law does not recognize any legal entity other than the individual.47 For this reason some scholars have even gone so far as to deny the very distinction in Islam between village and town. It must not be forgotten, however, that one part o f the functions o f the municipality in a Western E uropean town were fulfilled in the Ottom an Empire (and probably in other Islamic countries), by institutional substitutes, chief among which was the kddf. It is evident that the k a d i was much more than a mere judge, since he fulfilled many administrative tasks. He was the most im portant link connecting the O ttom an government to the local population, and most o f the sultanic orders issued in connection with city administration were not only addressed to the kddf, but, moreover, most o f them enjoined him to carry them out in person, or to see to it th a t they were carried out by others. Nevertheless, the kd d f was not, o f course, a real substitute for municipal authorities, and the lack of such authorities in Islam serves to underline the fact that the idea of the state as the provider o f public services is totally lacking. This traditional concept began to change only during the Tanzfm dt era. In Palestine municipalities first emerged in the 1860s. There are some hints indicating that the municipality o f Jerusalem was possibly established in 1863,48 and th a t of Jaffa in 1872.4’ One o f the signs and criteria for the existence o f municipalities as administrative bodies independent o f the government was separate budgets. Fo r this reason, the basis for the existence of

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municipalities was their ability to impose their own taxes on their citizens. It is interesting to note that in 19th century Egypt municipalities were not established until nearly the end o f the century owing to the refusal by the Europeans to pay taxes. This problem was not extant in Palestine, where there were no substantial foreign colonies as in Egypt.50 At the beginning o f the 20th century, the budget o f any m unicipality had to be approved by the council o f Jerusalem, and some o f the debates about this are preserved in that body’s protocols. Most o f these budgets were approved without much a do, and it is evident that the sums involved were extremely low. But in some cases the budget was not endorsed, and the documents make it clear that the council tried to prevent a situation arising when the administration of the province would have to pay debts incurred by municipalities. In other words, the council would approve only those budgets that were balanced. It sought to motivate the municipalities to find independent sources o f income. Thus, the budget o f the Beersheba municipality for the year 1907/8 was 28,000 piastres, and the main source of income was supposed to be selling land in the area to would-be settlers. In that case the budget was approved only after the expectation was fulfilled to a large extent.51 This procedure proves that these budgets were real, and not merely notions. Members o f the municipality were nominated through a sort o f popular election. T his was o f course a principle introduced by the Tanfimdl movement. Election took place, formally, both to the administrative council and to the municipal councils. And o f course, the tendency o f the m odem researcher is to throw serious doubts on these “ elections” . But in fact, Jerusalem is fortunate in that some vivid descriptions o f its daily life have survived, and among other things one can find here descriptions o f elections. The main source for this election is David Yelin, a Jewish observer, whose picturesque account well deserves a closer examination than it has had hitherto. According to Yelin, every citizen aged 25 o r more, who p aid a property tax (vergi) o f 50 T urkish pounds or more could vote. Eligible for election was every citizen aged 30 or over, who paid a tax o f a t least 150 Turkish pounds annually.52 The municipal council was composed o f ten members, o f whom one half was replaced every two years. Only Ottomans could participate, and the name list of all voters would be announced by the municipality some time before the election took place. Yelin described the election o f 1898 in which 1200 people participated. The nature of the political struggle was peculiar, and Yelin’s words here merit quoting in full. The success o f those wishing to be elected (be they o f whichever religion), is much dependent on a general agreement between the various groups, and this general agreement, by the help of G o d , is now extant in o ur city for tens o f years. One group elects so and so from the other group, so that [in the next election] the other group would vote f o r its candidate. And

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each time, two years after we have observed the ups stepping down, we observe the losers come u p ,..” Undoubtedly, what Yelin describes here is a subtle balance of powers between the important families of the Jerusalemite elite, a balance known to have existed also from other sources,54 but which was never thought to be so formal and deep-rooted. The §ame is an old one, now being played with new institutional tools. This amalgam of old and new is still more distinct in Yelin’s account of the unexpected aftermath of these elections: The elections for the council of our city are at last at an end, and the new members have finally, this week, commenced convening. But this time, the matter was not terminated as simply as it used to be. For, ten days after the ballot boxes were opened, the citizens of our city were still eagerly looking forward to see to which side the balance would tip. And this is the matter: among our Muslim citizens there are two aristocratic families, whose genealogy goes back to the days of the establishment of Islam in the country: The families of HusaynT and Khalidi. And from olden times the competition among them is great; while the power of one of them is supreme, most important offices go to its sons, and it rules, while the other becomes weaker, until the balance is redressed in the opposite direction. And in our days now for many years the first family has the upper hand and the headship of the city council has been in the hands of its members almost from the day the municipality was established... But this time, when the time has come for the head of the council to leave his office, the second family collected all its strength and placed for election one of its most distinguished ciders and the other family nominated as candidate the son of the outgoing mayor and one of its distinguished men. After a severe campaign, which lasted for a month and a half, all the three were elected, and along with them also one Muslim and one of our nation [Jewish], who is the son of the permanent Jewish member of the council... and so remained only the question of the nomination of the head of the council which by law is at the hand of the city governor... and so the list was sent to his highness the Pasha, for his decision all the great men of our city were looking forward. And after much contemplation he at last decided in favour of the Khdlidi family and as head of the council he appointed YasTn Efendi al-Khalidi...55 Although, as was said, the game remained as it had been, that is no justification to dismiss the new rules. Often in public affairs the “how” is more important than the “what” , and this is undoubtedly the main difference between democracy and dictatorship. If this account of the developments concerning the municipalities may look to some readers too optimistic, it is because we are looking for beginnings of new developments. In fairness it must be noted that some contemporaries were

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GERBER

much harsher in their judgment than we are. Thus, two young Palestinians who wrote a book about the province o f Beirut on the eve o f the G reat W ar were harsh when talking about the municipality o f Nablus: We, the people o f the East, are far away from the true meaning o f the word municipality. According to o u r perception, the headship o f the municipality is an office destined to reinforce the position and power of the a,'yin... the head of the municipality, along with the members o f the council which he heads fulfill with no objection and precisely the command o f the governor o f the nihiye, the k a z i or sancak.™ It is well known that the classical Islamic states, including the Ottom an Empire, cared very little for public services.” Religious, educational and medical services, inasmuch as they were at all provided, were provided by the w akf institution, a nongovernmental body, although often subjected td several types of intervention. But with the establishment of the municipalities, this basic attitude o f all traditional Islamic countries began to give way to the modem commitment o f the state to the provision of public services. Thus, education * a s gradually usurped from the hands o f the wakf, as were health services, water installation and the like. It is not by chance that the Tanzim it people were so hostile to the w akf institution. O f all the traditional institutions this was probably one o f the most hard hit. This was due a t least in p art to the fact that the service function of the w akf was so inherently contradictory to the concept o f the modem state. The end p roduct o f this reform process was not a welfare state, n or anything like it. But w hat seems to be im portant is to emphasize the changed attitude o f the Ottom an bureaucracy. But this, in fact, is too modest an appreciation, for in some fields the change went far beyond a mere change in attitude. It is known, for example, that the change in education was really revolutionary,58 and this certainly was an o utgrowth o f development in public services. This account of changes in the Ottom an government o f Palestine by the beginning o f the 20th century seems to stand in flagrant contradiction to Shamir’s findings about Syria in the early 1880s.5* It is doubtful that the differences between the two provinces may be explained away by indicating inherent differences between Syria and Palestine (on this, see further below). It seems that the difference is to be accounted for by the difference in time. It seems to us that the Ottom an reforms came gradually and slowly to fruition at the very end of the period, by a bureaucratic process, not yet wholly clear, but cumulative in nature, that may be called “incubation” . O n most scores it seems difficult to explain this process o f “ incubation” in clear and unequivocal words. But there is one area where this seems possible, and this is education. E ducation was certainly a self-propelling process. Once modern education was introduced, it was an independent force, quite disconnected from edicts and policies. One more question which remains to be discussed is whether the province of

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Jerusalem had a special sort o f administration, untypical o f other Ottom an provinces. Such a claim has been made several times,60 and it is possible that there is at least a grain o f truth in it. But even if this is the case, it is not enough to invalidate this thesis; in all p robability Jerusalem was n ot so exceptional as to render it uncharacteristic. F o r this study does not deal with the policies o f governors and high officials, n or even with their actions. W hat we have tried to analyse is the bureaucracy from the “ micro”-angle, the small bureaucrats in their daily behavior, the unintentional behavior, which is often unconscious and autom atic, and is usually disregarded by the historian. It is extremely unlikely that on this lowest bureaucratic level there could be a substantial difference between Jerusalem and other provinces. M oreover, some o f the changes reviewed above were only very indirectly caused by the Ottoman government. This is especially true with regard to the municipalities, which added to the Tanzimat the extremely im portant facet o f public services, and yet this function was carried out by the locals alone.

Notes 1 Some of these views are quoted in B. Lewis, The Emergence o f Modem Turkey (London, 1961), pp. I22ff. 2 H. Gerber, “The Ottoman Administration of the Sanjaq of Jerusalem, 1890-1908", Asian and African Studies, 12 (1978), pp. 33-76. 3 Part of this archive is composed of the governor's correspondence, while the other is composed of the minutes of the administrative council (meclis-i iddre). Documents from this part are henceforth presented with the initials M.I. 4 See, for example, M. Ma'oz, Ottoman Reform in Syria and Palestine, 1840-1861 (Oxford, 1968), pp. 87-101. 5 In describing the pie-Tanzfmdt pattern of bureaucracy I have assumed that there was no great difference between the 17th century and the first half of the 19th century. In describing this old pattern I have mainly relied on the following: A. Cohen, Palestine in the 18th Century (Jerusalem, 1973); Ma'oz, Ottoman Reform; M. Hoexter^The Role of Qays and Yaman Factions in Local Political Division”, Asian and African Studies, 9 (1973), pp. 249-311; I. al-Nimr, Tarlkh Jabal Nablus wal-Balkf (Nablus. 1961). 6 See W. HOtteroth, “The Pattern of Settlement in Palestine in the Sixteenth Century", in M. Ma'oz (ed.). Studies on Palestine During theOttomanPeriod(Jerusalem, 1975), pp. 3-10. 7 The political role of the Bedouins in the Ottoman period is described by M. Sharon, “The Political Role of the Bedouins in Palestine in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries”, in Ma'oz, Studies, pp. 11-30. 8 See Hoexter, “The Role of Qays and Yaman Factions". 9 See Ma'oz, Ottoman Reform, pp. 113-122. 10 See Gerber, pp. 48ff. 11 M.I. 1322 (Mdtt year), decision no. 159. 12 See Gerber, p. 48. 13 Cited in Druyanov, Ktavim le-toldot Hibat Tziyon, vol. 2 (Tel Aviv, 1924), p. 660.

44 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42

43 44 45

GERBER B. Dinur (ed.). Sefer tollin' ha-Hagana, vol. 1 (Tel Aviv, 1954), p. 61. G. Baer, The Village Mukhtar in Palestine (Jerusalem, 1978). pp. !2ff„ in Hebrew. Ibid. See note 14 above. L. Oliphant, Haifa or Life in Modern Palestine (Edinburgh and London, 1886), p. 61. Ibid. p. 59. Mehmed Reflk and Mehmed Behcet, Beirut Vildyeti (Beirut, 1335), vol. 1, p. 417. Cited in Dinur, p. 62. Ibid. Ibid. On the establishment of Beersheba see for example 'Arif al-‘Arif, Tartkh Biral-Sab' wakaba'ilihd (Jerusalem, 1934), passim. M.I. 1322, no. 824; no. 971. M.I. 1322, no. 907. See, for example, M.I. 1322, no. 760. Baldensperger, “The Immovable East", in Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement (1922), pp. 65-66. M.I. 1323, no. 453. M.I. 1322, no. 340 M.I. 1323, no. 927. See Gerber, pp. 35-37. Cohen, p. 121, where it is specifically stated that the main administrative area was the mukafa'a, a fiscal term. See, for example, Volney's description: C.F. Volncy, Travels Through Egypt and Syria in the Years 1783. 1784. 1785. vol. 2 (New York, 1798), pp. 223, 224. For a summary statement of Max Weber's views on the status of the officialdom as one characteristic differentiating Ottoman type bureaucracy and modem democratic bureaucracy, see R. Bendix. Max Weber (New York, 1960), pp. 423-431. See Gerber, pp. 37-41. He would have to have the consent of the chief of the gendarmerie even for the simplest operation, and there was no way he could force him to consent. See Gerber, p. 41. See Lewis, p. 105. See G. Baer, “The Evolution of Private Landownership in Egypt and the Fertile Crescent”, in Ch. Issawi (ed.). Studies in the Economic History of the Middle East 18001914 (Chicago, 1966), p. 82. Gerber, pp. 64ff. M.I. 1322, no. 827. Sociological analysis of the Ottoman legal system based on the protocols of the kadt court is not yet available, and is badly needed. For the time being, the summary presented here is mainly based on the author's reading in the ktid! records of the 17th century Anatolian city of Bursa. Also pertinent for the formation of these views were the books of H. Ongan, Ankaramn Bir Numarah $eriye Sicili (Ankara. 1958), and Ankarantn Iki Numarah $eriye Sicili (Ankara, 1974). My main theoretical guidance was Lon Fuller's The Anatomy of Law (Pelican Books, 1971). Max Weber, On Law in Economy and Society (Oxford, 1969), p. 213 and n. 48, where further references are given. Although one can find plenipotentiaries on an ad hoc basis. On these see R. Jennings, “The Office of Vekil (Wakil) in 17th Century Ottoman Sharia Courts", Studio Islamica, 42 (1975), pp. 147-149. Formally the council was an administrative body, but as is well known, in the past it had been a judicial body. Also, in some cases the Jerusalem council constituted a full-fledged court even at the beginning of the 20th century. This was mainly the case regarding

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58

59

60

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Beersheba. In some matters the Jerusalem council constituted an appeal instance to the nizdmf court of Beersheba. See Gerber, p. 58. See S.N. Eisenstadt, Modernization, Protest and Change (Englewood Cliffs, 1966), pp. 23. J. Schacht, An Introduction to Islamic Law (Oxford, 1964), p. 155. 'Arif al-‘Arif, al-Mufassal JT tarikh al-Kuds (Cairo, n.d.), p. 218. Ha-Havatzelet, vol. 2, p. 18. G. Baer, Studies in the Social History o f Modern Egypt (Chicago, 1969), pp. 196-198. M.I. 1323, no. 897. D. Yelin, Yerushalayim shel tmol (Jerusalem, 1972), p. 202. Ibid., p. 194. See Gerber, pp. 611T. See Yelin, pp. 222-223. RefTV and Behcet, vol. 1, p. 121. This is expressed, for example, in the fact that all the public buildings in the city, even when established by the rulers, were immediately transferred to the wakf especially founded to maintain these buildings. For an excellent example of this see example H. Inalcik, “Istanbul”, Encyclopaedia o f Islam, 2nd cd. See, for example, J.S. Szyliowicz, “Changes in the Recruitment Patterns and CareerLines of Ottoman Provincial Administrators during the Nineteenth Century", in M. Ma'oz, Studies, pp. 268ff. See Sh. Shamir, “The Modernization of Syria: Problems and Solutions in the Early Period of Abdalhamid”, in W. Polk and R. Chambers (eds.). Beginnings of Modernization in the Middle East (Chicago, 1968), pp. 351-382. See, for example, B. Abu-Manneh, “The Rise of the Sanjak of Jerusalem in the Late 19th Century”, in G. Ben-Dor (ed.), The Palestinians and the Middle East Question (Ramat Gan, 1978), p. 25.

The Contribution of the Ottoman Regime to the Development of Jerusalem and Jaffa, 1840-1917 RUTH KARK During the final decades of Ottoman rule over Palestine, both Jerusalem and Jaffa underwent marked growth and development. Within a short time, these two small, backward towns typical of 19th century Palestine became the country’s main urban centers.1 What was the nature of this growth and how can it be evaluated? What were its causes and what factors influenced it? What role did the Ottoman government, at its various administrative levels, play in the development process? This paper will examine three aspects raised by the above questions: 1) physical development, built-up area and infrastructures; 2) population; 3) economic growth. Physical Development (Construction and Infrastructure) On reliable maps from the 1840s and onwards, as well as on early aerial photographs of Jerusalem and Jaffa, the built-up areas, both within and outside the city walls can be measured by planimeter.2 Accordingly, the builtup area of Jaffa increased from 108 dunams in 1842 — most of which was within the walled town — to 1,550 dunams, mostly outside, in 1917, representing a 15-fold growth. Jerusalem grew from 699 dunams in 1841 — again mainly within the walls — to 4,130 dunams in 1917, of which over threequarters were outside the Old City (see Figure 1).

Table 1. Built-up Area in Jerusalem and Jaffa. 1841-1918 J e ru sa le m a re a in

% o f to ta l

Ja ffa a re a in

dunam s

a re a

dunam s

% o f to ta l a re a

1 8 4 1 /4 2 w ith in th e w alls o u ts id e w alls to ta l

681 18 699

97.4 2.6 100.0

94 14 108

87.0 13.0 100.0

1 9 1 7 /1 8 w ith in th e w alls o u ts id e w alls to ta l

749 3,381 4.130

18.1 81.9 100.0

103 1,447 1,550

6.6 93.4 100.0

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There was thus not only an absolute, but also a relative, increase in the builtup areas outside the walls of both Jerusalem and Jaffa, and “new towns” arose beside the old ones. The new construction reflected changes in cultural norms and aspirations to modernization and improvement in living standard, and also in housing and sanitation conditions. Nevertheless, some traditional traits, such as the separation of ethnic and religious groups in residential areas was carried over into the new quarters.3 Alongside the construction of private dwellings there was also remarkable expansion of various economic enterprises: khans, caffs and restaurants, hotels and hospices, tourist and commercial agencies, banks, insurance offices, industrial buildings and workshops, and steam-powered flour mills proliferated.4 The number of shops and businesses increased, both in and outside the old marketplaces, and new, well-planned, modem markets were constructed. In Jaffa, for example, abut 400 new shops were opened between 1882 and 1907.5 Many public buildings of a religious character were constructed, as well as government institutions, educational, charitable and medical establishments. The more modem types of service buildings tended to be located in the new parts of the cities, outside the walls, but maintained some physical continuity with the old centers.6 International and interurban communications, and the transport infra­ structure in both Jerusalem and Jaffa were improved considerably. Some of the streets in the old towns were widened and paved, and new roads were built outside these towns. The roads from Jerusalem to Jaffa, Hebron, Nablus and Jericho were improved; the railway between Jaffa and Jerusalem was completed and stations were built in both towns.7 Both cities benefited especially from the improvement in the foreign and Ottoman postal and telegraphic services.6 Drainage, sewage, water supply, sanitation and cleanliness, street lighting, urban maintenance, town planning and supervision and registration of ownership and building permits also improved somewhat.’

Population Increase The population of Jerusalem and Jaffa increased considerably in the period under review. Jerusalem’s population increased from about 9,000 at the beginning of the 19th century to about 70,000-80,000 on the eve of World War I. In the same period, Jaffa’s population grew from about 2,500 to around 50,000.'° Despite similarities in the growth graphs for the two cities, there was a considerable difference in the composition and character of their populations. Jerusalem attracted people mainly for religious reasons, while the motivation for settling in Jaffa was largely economic.

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