Al-Ahram: A Diwan of contemporary life (506)
The ambassador's tarboush
Relations between Egypt and Turkey descended so low in 1932 that the wearing of a tarboush managed to cause a diplomatic row between the two countries. Professor Yunan Labib Rizk*, sees how the headgear made headlines
Abdel-Malek Hamza Bek, the Egyptian ambassador to Turkey, was in for a surprise when, on 29 October 1932, he went to the Ankara Palace Hotel to attend the anniversary celebrations of the declaration of the Turkish republic. President Mustafa Kemal Ataturk was there and objected to the tarboush Hamza Bek was wearing.
The incident may have blown over had not the British Daily Herald related it in detail two weeks later. Although the newspaper noted that Ataturk had apologised for his remark and that Hamza Bek had accepted his apology, it added that it hoped the matter would rest there, for if news of it leaked to Egypt it would cause outrage.
And so it did. On 17 November, Al-Ahram reported that official circles in Cairo expressed their astonishment at Ataturk's reaction. Egyptian ambassadors and consuls usually attend official functions in a tarboush, the brimless felt cap like a fez, "for it is considered part of their official dress". It also reported that communications were currently taking place between Cairo and Ankara, adding, "Apparently it has been suggested that Abdel-Malek Bek be relocated to another position and that his responsibilities be handed over to a chargé d'affaires."
As the news item suggests, the "incident of the tarboush" must be seen against the background of the steadily worsening relations between Egypt and Turkey since the declaration of the Turkish Republic and that government's abolition of the Caliphate in 1924. That King Fouad proposed to host an Islamic conference in Cairo to win support for his succession as "Leader of the Faithful" did not patch over the differences between the two capitals, even if his bid for this lofty religious position sparked at least just as much trouble for him at home, where strong objection was voiced against his attempt to exploit religion to augment his autocratic powers, an opinion expressed in the controversial Islam and the Principles of Government.
But there were more immediate causes behind the diplomatic slap in the face. Al-Ahram's correspondent in Istanbul noted that for several years Egypt and Turkey had been negotiating over a number of issues, the most important being Turkey's request to become a signatory to the Capitulations agreement. Were Cairo to approve this, "Turkish subjects in Egypt would enjoy the same privileges as those accorded to the subjects of other foreign nations". Among those privileges was immunity from prosecution in Egyptian national courts. The correspondent continues, "However, Ankara has also declared that it is willing to relinquish this request on the day that the Capitulations system in Egypt is abolished for all nations."
It is to senior staff writer Mahmoud Abul-Fath that we turn for a fuller picture of the various aspects of "the Turks' aversion to the Egyptians since the war", as he put it. He reminds readers that Egypt had sided against the Turks in that war. Not only did it supply the British with munitions, money and pack animals, "Egyptian labour platoons paved the way for British troops to invade their land and for Lord Allenby's forces to conquer Palestine." The Turks also harboured a long-standing resentment against Egypt -- a much wealthier country than Turkey -- for having emerged from Turkish suzerainty, although this did not stop Turkey from taking advantage of both the influence and wealth of certain members of the former Turkish aristocracy. Aggravating Turkish rancor was their tendency to erroneously interpret Egyptian actions as specifically aimed against their interests. "Examples of this are the Caliphate Conference, Egypt's nationality law and the actions Egypt has taken against narcotics smuggled into Egypt from Turkey." At the same time Abul-Fath notes that Turkey's hostility towards Egypt -- to the extent of trying to prevent Egyptians from visiting or taking up residence in Turkey -- stemmed from Ankara's Western-oriented policy. So intent were the Turks upon becoming "European in form and substance", that they were determined to sever all bonds with the East and the Eastern peoples.
Under the subtitle, "Egypt and Turkey: pending issues for an agreement", Abul-Fath outlines Turkish demands. Ankara wanted the Egyptian government to recognise the Turkish subject status of certain individuals named on lists the Turkish Embassy would provide to the Egyptian Ministry of Foreign Affairs; of Egyptians who had served in the Turkish government; and of Egyptians to whom Ankara had already granted Turkish subject status but had not yet been recognised as such by the Egyptian government. Turkey had another demand: that the Egyptian government grant Turkish subjects, who were resident in Egypt, certain privileges regarding judicial jurisdiction over them.
There was nothing innocent in the Turkish demands. Among the Egyptians they had in mind for Turkish subject status were Fouad Salim, Ahmed Fouad, the children of Prince Said Halim, the former Khedive Abbas II and Prince Seifeddin, all controversial figures. No wonder then that, as Abul-Fath puts it, the matter was "the subject of lengthy give and take between the two sides". The Al-Ahram writer explained the reasons for Egypt's reluctance. "The Egyptian government cannot pass on the nationality of any citizen from Egyptian to Turkish, even if he had served in the Turkish government. More importantly, under no circumstances can the Egyptian government countenance the transfer of the nationality of any Egyptian prince from Egyptian to Turkish, even if the said prince or his guardians were to desire this for personal reasons, as was the case of the former khedive and Prince Seifeddin. The Turks were told that it is unreasonable to ask Egypt to admit that some of the members of its royal family were foreigners, regardless of the motives behind this request."
It also appeared unreasonable that the Turks should want to be included in the Capitulations agreement in view of the fact that they had abolished that system in their own country. Nevertheless, they argued that it was not proper for Turkish residents to be held in esteem lower than that of other foreigners in a country that had only recently been under Turkish sovereignty, especially given that "some of those foreigners are of lower status than the Turks." The privilege that Ankara was seeking for Turkish subjects in Egypt was the right to be tried in the Mixed Courts. Abul-Fath notes: "Originally the Turks pressed to have a judge of their own in these courts but they eventually reconciled themselves to the demand that Turks in Egypt be tried in front of a panel of judges drawn from other nationalities. This, in their opinion, is preferable to being tried before Egyptian judges."
Mahmoud Abul-Fath appears once again, on 22 November 1932, under the headline "Turkey and the tarboush", a history of the relationship between this headgear and the Ottoman crown. The beginning was in 1829, until which point the turban was worn by Ottoman officials. In this year, however, Sultan Mahmoud II abolished the turban for all but religious officials, for which act he alienated the clergy "who accused him of heresy and apostasy and who roused the people against him". Abul-Fath continues, "Uprisings broke out in Albania, Macedonia, Bosnia and Iraq; indeed, in Istanbul itself. So great was the popular furore that they would throw stones at him when he appeared in the streets of Istanbul in his new garb. On one occasion, it was said, a dervish grabbed hold of the reins of his horse, called him a heretic and showered curses upon him, in response to which the sultan ordered the man killed."
Yet, that very head covering that had provoked such outrage eventually acquired the status the turban had once had as a cherished religious and national symbol. Then, almost a century later, Mustafa Kemal swept away what by then had become another tradition, as part of the extensive campaign of modernisation he initiated following the declaration of the Turkish Republic. The first signal that the national head covering was about to change again came in September 1925, when the father of the republic appeared sporting a fedora, a display he repeated in several cities, making of himself a personal advertisement for abandoning the tarboush.
As though Egyptians did not regard this as audacious enough, when Ataturk reached Ankara he had his cabinet issue a decree compelling civil servants to wear the Western style hat and he instructed the governor of Istanbul to order government staff there to do the same. The action met with a positive response, at least in the major cities. Abul-Fath relates that "youth in the universities and academies followed suit, as did many physicians, lawyers, journalists and other professionals, foremost among whom was the famous Turkish poet Abdel-Haqq Hamed, who sent a telegram to Mustafa Kemal congratulating him over this reform." Some, however, voiced reservations, the most significant of which was that the brim of the hat impeded prayer. However, Ankara quickly acknowledged the problem, and passed a law permitting prayer with a hat.
Turkey took another official step in its emulation of Western codes of dress when the speaker of the National Assembly entered the chamber wearing a frock coat and black top-hat. Abul-Fath writes, "When the speaker removed his hat from his head and set it by his side, that was the signal for the session to begin. When he put it back on his head that signalled that the session was over." He adds, "This was the first time on Asian territory that a parliament was called to order and adjourned in the manner of European parliaments."
On 16 November 1925, the representative from Konya in the National Assembly presented a bill according to which the Western style hat would be obligatory for all Turks. Although another prominent representative, General Nureddin, objected, "the modernisation tide swept his objection aside. The bill was passed into law and police began to confiscate tarboushes and arrest those who wore them."
Like Sultan Mahmoud's decree a century earlier, the new law triggered unrest, especially in the more conservative eastern provinces. In Ardum, thousands of protesters rallied in front of the governor's mansion shouting "Down with the heretics!" A throng of angry protesters assembled before the government palace and shouted for the government's downfall. Demonstrations were violent elsewhere as people attacked government buildings and hurled insults at and physically attacked their employees. Abul- Fath recounts, "The government declared martial law in those provinces, in which many were imprisoned or sentenced to death."
Although at the time Abul-Fath was writing, seven years had passed since the tarboush was banned, that was not sufficient time for it to become history. "The issue still arouses considerable passions, which is why officials there are touchy. The sight of a tarboush, even on the head of a foreigner, begets grief in some provinces and anger and resentment in the cities."
It is possible that some interpreted Abul-Fath's account as an appeal for calm and understanding, for in their letters to the newspaper they urged others not to blow the tarboush incident out of proportion. One even suggested that the incident could have been avoided had Egypt's representative not stuck so strictly to protocol. While it was proper for him to make his entrance to an official function wearing his tarboush, there was nothing to prevent him from removing it after he arrived, "especially if the function is a ball, as was the case in Ankara".
Another Al-Ahram writer, Abdallah Hussein, went a step further and urged Egyptians to do as the Turks. Echoing the appeals of such figures as Mahmoud Azmi and Salama Moussa, Hussein explained that the tarboush was not native to Egypt. Rather, Egypt adopted it from the Turks "as a sign of its subordination to Istanbul in the past and then in emulation of the Turkish governors who ruled Egypt. Even today, we still find elderly retired Egyptian civil servants who recall wearing the turban and quftan in their service as a clerk or engineer."
He then pointed to another former Ottoman possession in the Arab world. Although Iraqis used to wear the tarboush, they disposed of it as soon as their country emerged from Turkish sovereignty and now wore the "Faisaliyah cap". And they were correct in doing so. "The tarboush is not a legacy of Islam or the Muslim peoples, nor is it a vestige of the Pharaohs or a symbol of Egyptian nationhood that we should feel compelled to cling to it." Furthermore, Egyptians had already shed much of their native dress and now, when they appear in public at least, wear European clothes "from their necks to the souls of their feet". He continues, "Even our prime ministers, ministers and members of the diplomatic corps, with the exception of the rare official function, wear the Western hat. Furthermore, it has been demonstrated that the tarboush is inappropriate to Egyptians from a health standpoint. There, therefore, remains nothing but to contemplate adopting a new head covering. If some conservatives -- and these, in any case, generally wear the turban rather than the tarboush -- do not want to see Egyptians wearing hats, then should we not then search for something that is neither a tarboush nor a hat, but rather symbolises Egyptian nationhood?"
Not all sectors of opinion in Egypt were so obliging. Wafd Party papers, in particular, had no inclination for letting the government off the hook. Apart from criticising the behaviour of Ataturk, they also took the opportunity to charge that Prime Minister Sidqi was too lax in his response. After all, they argued, Hamza Bek represented, not himself, but Egypt.
Al-Ahram, as was its custom, tried to remain as objective as possible, as is evident from the articles it chose to publish on the subject. On 15 December 1932, for example, it featured a report on the diplomatic measures the Egyptian government could take in response to what many had taken as an offence to Egypt's ambassador to Turkey. After reviewing some possibilities, the writer urged that the government do no more than to replace Hamza Bek with a chargé d'affaires. But he was not enthusiastic over this alternative either. A chargé d'affaires, he explained, is generally called in only under certain circumstances -- when the ambassador is ill or on leave, away from his post on another assignment, recalled for investigation into matters concerning his conduct, or when there is an interval between one ambassador and the next.
Although it was widely believed that the ambassador would be withdrawn if only for a short period, reports in Al-Ahram indicated that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had decided to hold off awhile before taking such a harsh step. Moreover, the ministry asked Hamza to put off the leave he had been scheduled to take at the beginning of December and to remain at his post until further notice.
In the interim, at the beginning of December the Egyptian government presented a memorandum to Ankara stating certain demands. Although the text remained confidential, the press managed to get a vague notion of its substance. Essentially, the Egyptian government wanted a formal apology for what it regarded as an insult to its diplomatic representative in the Turkish capital and a pledge that an incident of such nature would not happen again.
Now it was time for the Turkish government to drag its feet. On 9 December, the Turkish news agency reported that the Turkish chargé d'affaires in Cairo would be presenting that day Ankara's response to the Egyptian memorandum. Just under a week later, Egyptians opened their newspapers to learn that the response was still on its way. Then, a few days after that, it was announced that the Turkish chargé d'affaires would be delivering his government's answer on 18 December -- 20 days after the incident. Apparently, in buying time, Ankara had hoped the Egyptian public would calm down.
Also during this interval, Al-Ahram relayed to its readers reports on the incident from the Turkish press, all of which seemed to wish to placate Egyptian sensitivities. The Milet stressed the degree to which Abdel-Malek Hamza was held in esteem among Turkey's political upper echelons. "The president of the republic treats him not as a representative of a foreign nation but as a close friend," it wrote. "As long as this is the case, the remark Ataturk made with regard to the tarboush should undoubtedly be understood in this context. In all events, it is surprising that any Egyptian politician should attach such importance to such a trivial matter."
The Jumhuriyat, whose editor-in-chief, Yunis Nader, was highly regarded for his integrity, gave a completely different version of the incident than that which had appeared in the Daily Herald. According to the Turkish newspaper, the Egyptian ambassador was not asked to remove his tarboush. The ceremonies held on 29 October to commemorate the founding of the Turkish Republic consisted of a formal dinner, attended by foreign dignitaries in their official attire, which was followed by a ballroom reception. "As is the custom, the master of ceremonies, in accordance with Ataturk's instructions, approached the guests and asked whether they would prefer to remove their articles of formal attire so that they could be more comfortable. Hamza Bek did so, in accordance with custom."
The Jumhuriyat went on to relate that following the dinner, Mustafa Kemal noticed that Hamza Bek seemed bothered by the heat, so he told the Egyptian ambassador that now that the formalities were over he could remove his ceremonial coat and his tarboush. The article then declared: "This is the truth, which certain people have distorted in order to provoke Egyptian public opinion. All who are familiar with how courteous Ataturk is towards all people and how keen he is to better relationships between all peoples know immediately that the event as related by some people never occurred. We are certain that His Excellency Abdel-Malek Hamza Bek shares our conviction."
The Jumhuriyat version seems to have been bolstered by the Waqt which reported that the Turkish minister of foreign affairs had met the Egyptian ambassador after the reception and observed nothing out of the ordinary. On the contrary, "during their conversation, the Egyptian ambassador remarked on how gracious and sympathetic Mustafa Kemal had been towards him during that evening and when the ambassador took his leave from the minister he appeared entirely content." The Waqt concluded that Hamza had no reason to inform his government about anything untoward and accused the Daily Herald of sensationalist reporting. What was particularly suspicious was that the British newspaper had reported the incident two weeks after it had taken place, and it was its report that began the crisis.
It appears that Al-Ahram came around to the same belief. On 18 December 1932, a headline read: "The question of the ambassador's tarboush -- Egyptian-Turkish relations and how to read the British press". British newspapers, the writer cautioned, should be handled circumspectly. What they published fell into two categories: the first consisted of articles inspired by official or semi-official authorities to serve as propaganda, a means to test the public's pulse or in order to prepare the climate for a certain development. Under the second category fell the type of stories that newspapers resorted to in their drive to attract audiences. The writer surmised that the Daily Herald's coverage of the incident of the tarboush fell into the latter category. Moreover, he suggests that the British reporter's account could not be independently corroborated, something which should be taken with a pinch of salt since, after all, "Ataturk's remark to the Egyptian ambassador regarding his wearing of the tarboush was made during an official reception in front of a host of foreign dignitaries and ambassadors."
As Egyptians awaited the Turkish response to the Egyptian memorandum, their patience began to wear thin. The general feeling was expressed by Nationalist Party parliamentary representative Abdel- Hamid Said who put to the foreign minister the following questions: "Newspapers and international wire releases have been circulating news of an incident that occurred between Egypt's ambassador to Turkey and the president of the Turkish Republic, who is said to have verbally assaulted our ambassador and offended his dignity. Is this true? If it is, has the Turkish government apologised for the excess of its president? Has our ambassador been appropriately satisfied? On the other hand, if Turkey has refused to apologise and offer guarantees that this will not happen again, what action will the Egyptian government take to safeguard the honour and dignity of the nation?"
The minister pleaded for patience until the Turkish response arrived, which it finally did on 18 December. Although Al-Ahram noted that the response was couched in amicable terms, Ankara refused to apologise or to undertake any type of pledge with regard to the future. By way of justification, the Turkish response held, "Every government is free to organise its ceremonial codes on the basis of national customs and international relations."
This response was far from appropriate to a government of a country with such an ancient legacy in protocol and diplomacy, commented Ahmed El-Sawi Mohamed in his daily column, "Short but Significant". The Al-Ahram columnist went on to quip: "Only a few years ago everyone in Turkey had a tarboush on their head. If they removed it in order to move closer to the West, they should bear in mind that it was not the tarboush that had made them backwards or had impeded their full independence."
On 29 December, Cairo delivered its response to Ankara. While, again, the substance was not disclosed, the Turkish foreign minister announced to the National Assembly: "The incident of the tarboush between Egypt and Turkey has drawn to a close with the arrival of the Egyptian response." Officials in Cairo remained mute and to Turkey, at least, that silence was golden.
* The author is a professor of history and head of Al-Ahram History Studies Centre.
