by Abd al-Hafidh Wentzel
First published by Brunei Times 08.07.2007
OFF the beaten track for most foreign visitors lies Istanbul’s probably most traditional district of Fatih, named after the Ottoman Sultan Muhammad II, the Conqueror (al-Fatih). For me this is a very special part of town. I fell in love with Fatih immediately when a friend, an American resident of Istanbul since many years, took me there for the first time in mid-eighties.
Visiting the Carsamba area in Fatih for traditional Turkish style clothes, a pair of shalwar, a kind of baggy trousers, and a jubba, a loose buttonless coat, I found the tailor a friendly, welcoming and exceptionally kind man who invited me to his home. In those days my Turkish was rather poor, but after a beautiful meal of good home cooking, several glasses of tea and half-an-hour of jointly rummaging through my Turkish-English pocket dictionary, I understood that he was inviting me to stay with him. I politely declined, pointing out that I had paid for my hotel, but he insisted that next time I was in Istanbul I must accept his offer. It was not too long after this visit that I came back to Istanbul and accepted his invitation. Since then, my friend’s extraordinary generosity and hospitality have never slackened, his flat in Fatih has almost become a second residence for me and, after some hesitance, he has also honored me by visiting our family home in Germany, as well as my small domicile in Damascus. But now back to the origins of this amazing Istanbul district: Sultan Muhammad II, or Fatih Sultan Mehmed, as the Turks prefer to call him, was born in 1432 in the then Ottoman Empire capital Adrianople, today’s Edirne, situated in the European part of modern Turkey, not far from the Greek and Bulgarian borders. Sultan Muhammad’s father was Sultan Murad II, his mother Huma Hatun hailed from the Black Sea area of Devrekani/Kastamonu. Like all Ottoman princes, Fatih Sultan Mehmed received a thorough education in all the various fields of religion, science and practical skills necessary for a future sovereign. Historical reports state that he was fluent in seven languages, knowledgeable and pious, a generous sponsor of natural sciences, and an ardent lover of the fine arts. Sultan Muhammad’s spiritual master was Muhammad Shamsuddin bin Hamza, better known as Shaykh Akshamsuddin, a brilliant religious scholar and the successor of his father’s teacher, the famous Anatolian Sufi master Hajji Bayram Wali. Already at a very young age, from 1444-1446, Sultan Muhammad was due to his father’s absence on a military expedition entrusted with the great responsibility of ruling the empire. When, after his father’s death in 1451, he took full control of government affairs, Muhammad II concentrated all his efforts in an attempt to fulfill the prediction of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), who is reported to have said: “Constantinople will be conquered and what an excellent army will that army be, and what an excellent leader will its leader be!” After several fruitless attempts to take the city from the Mediterranean side, where the straits of the Bosporus were fully covered by the Byzantine archers and catapults from the high city walls, he decided to secretly transport his fleet overland to the shores of the Black Sea. When in 1453 he unexpectedly attacked the city from this wide-open flank, the defenders fled in panic and Sultan Muhammad took the Byzantine capital without extensive losses or bloodshed, earning the title “al-Fatih”. One of the first steps he took as Constantinople’s new sovereign was to reassure the city’s Christian inhabitants of his full guarantee of safety, threatening anyone who would dare to harm them with dire consequences. Then he proceeded to lay the foundations of what is recognized today as the Ottoman features of Istanbul. In total, more than 300 mosques, 57 madrassas (religious schools) and 59 hamams (public baths) were built under his reign scores of them in the new capital. The greatest of all these projects, however, is the imperial complex Muhammad II had built by “Sinan the Elder” (Atik Sinan) – not to be confused with Sulayman the Magnificent’s famous architect Koca Mimar Sinan – to commemorate his victory. At the centre of the spacious precinct lies its sanctuary, the Fatih Camii. Built on top of one of Istanbul’s seven hills, the compound is surrounded by walls with vast gates towards the north and south, and a staircase to the west, leading down the hill towards what is now the district’s main road. Madrassas and other endowment buildings enclose the spacious outer courtyard to the east and west. Twice, after the earthquakes of 1509 and 1766, the mosque had to be reconstructed; the mausoleum of its founder, adjacent to the mosque’s southern wall, was lavishly redecorated in 1865 by Sultan ‘Abd al-’Aziz. The main entrance to the mosque’s inner courtyard is located to the north, leading to the ablution fountain at the centre of the courtyard, and then, through an enormous portal, crowned with a Quranic inscription in golden letters, into the sanctuary’s raised dome. The inside of the ceiling, as well as part of the walls, are decorated with ornamental painting, reflecting the decorative, baroque inspired stile of 18th century Ottoman architectural design. During the ritual prayers, to which one of Istanbul’s most accomplished muezzins calls in the typical, inimitably melodious Turkish style, the mosque is well attended. After worship the imam recites a page or two from the Quran, and as I personally had the chance to witness on several occasions even the odd non-Muslim visitor who happens to enter the magnificent dome of Sultan Fatih’s mosque cannot help being overcome by the enchantment of its blessed atmosphere. Further south, outside the main compound, there are still more endowment buildings. Muhammad II was, on top of his great insight, strictness and accuracy in matters of community welfare and public interest, famous for his generosity. The waqifname, i.e., the foundational charter for one of his many endowments, contains articles which, among others, bequeath the 136 shops in the Palace District of Istanbul with stipulations on cleanliness “Two persons shall be employed in each of Istanbul’s streets, carrying containers with lime sand and ashes, who are to pace these streets in regular intervals and to cover therewith any spit found thereon” and affordable healthcare “I further hereby ordain the employment of 10 surgeons, 10 general practitioners and three specialists for the treatment of wounds and injuries, who shall go from house to house … to inquire whether any of its inhabitants are in need of medical help.” On welfare, he ordained: “The relatives of martyrs as well as the poor and needy of Istanbul shall be provided with food … They shall, though, not be burdened with appearing there in person to collect their rations, but their food shall be delivered to them in sealed containers after dawn, when no one will notice.” In Ottoman times, mosques with their spacious compounds were far more than just places of worship. Educational institutions on every level, health care, public baths, local administration and social services were all assembled in the immediate vicinity of the mosque. All kinds of businesses and craftsmen established themselves close by, markets provided opportunity for trade. Exactly this is the time-honored pattern one can still recognize in the environs of Fatih Mosque: an entire neighborhood grouped around its central place of worship. On whatever side of the mosque compound you decide to exit, you will always find more interesting spot and sights on your way down the hill. Maybe you’ll make your way south, to Kadin Pazari (ladies’ market), a bazaar spread out below an ancient Roman aqueduct, full of specialties from Eastern Anatolia; or perhaps east, down the steep road, towards Balat or Fener, the latter so called after the old lighthouse on the shore of the Golden Horn, where you can meet descendants of Istanbul’s Greek Orthodox populace whose wellbeing and protection Sultan Fatih guaranteed over 500 years ago. Going down the wide flight of stairs to the west, you will soon hit Fevsi Pasha Caddesi, Fatih’s main shopping street while the road from the northern gate leads you straight to Carsamba Pazari (Wednesday market), named after Istanbul’s largest weekly market, but also famous for its traditional Naqshbandi Sufi community living around the Ismail Agha Mosque, still led by its restorer, Shaykh Mahmud Oflu Efendi. I have found most of Fatih’s population earnest, eager to lend a hand if needed, inquisitive without being belligerent, and easy to befriend, so that to me each time I come to Fatih it feels like coming home.
