Friday, October 4, 2013

Letters, Vakıfs, and the Bonds of Family

Nir Shafir, UCLA

Personal letters from the early-modern Ottoman period are quite rare. Although the Ottomans collected diplomatic letters, they never gathered personal correspondence in the same way as people did in Europe. The few examples of personal letters that do exist from the Ottoman context are often preserved in anthologies of letters (munşe’at, inşa’), and this is because they exemplify good style for others to emulate. In rare cases, though, we do find personal letters between family and friends. These are often scribbled, presumably as drafts, in the backs of notebooks and manuscripts, of which we have many for the Ottoman period. In this case, we find a copy of a letter from a son to his family scrawled on the last paper page of an early to mid-eighteenth century manuscript that was eventually deposited at a library in Istanbul.

Like all letters, it starts with salutations. Unlike most letters, this one is almost entirely composed of salutations. First, the writer addresses his dear parents, “the reason of my life” telling them that their “blessed and noble hands” are kissed, and that “day and night,” he wishes for their well-being in his prayers. He mentions his unnamed sister (hemşire kadını), and a certain Lady Ümmü Gülsüm (Ümmü Gülsüm kadını), whose identity I will discuss below. He mentions his son, Monla (Molla) Muhammed, to whom he wishes truly deep prayers. He asks God to preserve Monla Muhammed from calamity and inquires about how his son’s mother is faring and sends greetings to her from the depths of his heart (dilden derun). Again, he asks that God protect “you and us” from the calamities of fate (afât-i dehr) and that may God reunite them soon. He sends his respectful greetings (hulusâne selamlar) to his father-in-law, Mehmed Bey, and to his brothers-in-law Mustafa, Ali, Ahmed, and Muhammed and to his nameless mother-in-law. He sends his greetings to his maternal uncle, Hasan Çelebi, and to all the neighbors and other relatives who are asking about him. Finally, he sends his wishes to his beloved and dear Abdullah Pesezade Muhammad Ağa and his son Ahmed Ağa.


At the end of the letter, he gets to the matter at hand, perhaps explaining the reason behind the elaborate salutations. “My stipend (harçlık) should have been sent by now, but because the endowment (vakıf) did not permit it, it wasn’t sent. God willing, it is probable that we too [along with the stipend] will arrive in three to four months. Let this be known." He signs the letter as "the humble and poor Baki.” 

So after sending his selams to no less than 16 people (not including the neighbors and other relatives always asking about him), Baki comes around to the fact that the money from vakıf - an endowment likely established by a wealthy ancestor - isn't coming. The poignancy that he attaches to his salutations perhaps underscores his disappointment for failing to support his family and suggests that the family was in a tenuous financial situation.  It might also be a testament to Baki's own difficulties living away from his hearth and home. 


Beyond economic structures, the letter can shed light on familial structures. The order of the salutations provides clues to kinship relations and hierarchy, although of course these clues need to be juxtaposed against many more examples. The fact that Baki begins with his parents is not surprising, but the third person he mentions is a certain Ümmü Gülsüm kadını. Baki mentions several other women in his letter - his mother, sister, son's mother, mother-in-law - but only mentions by name Ümmü Gülsüm. This choice might suggest that she is outside of the family’s “harem,” but still intimately connected to Baki as a close, mother-like servant such as a wet-nurse. It could also mean the precise opposite, that Ümmü Gülsüm was his wife. Baki's son occupies the next place in the epistolary hierarchy, and only after this salutation does Baki mention the son’s mother (validesi). The mother’s place in the order, following the son, suggests she was a concubine rather than a full wife, which would make Ümmü Gülsüm the official wife. Baki then moves on to his in-laws, who are also listed in order of age and gender: the father-in law, then the brothers-in-law, then the mother-in-law. Finally, he seems to mention the name of a dear friend and his son, though no other information is given. 


Here, in a nutshell, is a picture of an eighteenth-century man’s kinship network and family, possibly located in Istanbul. It is a multi-generational family that extends to in-laws but apparently not to cousins and aunts. The hierarchy is based on age, although even old in-laws and friends are in a second tier. Household members like slaves and servants do not seem to be mentioned, but attachment to a significant male, like being the mother of a son, may actually make them a member of the family. Were all those addressed in the letter dependent on this endowment income? This too is unclear, although one can speculate that they were. If this is the case, it shows how essential endowment income could be to families’ well-being and suggests how financial institutions like the vakıf could define the bonds and boundaries of kinship. 

Finally, there is the question as to why the author wrote the letter on the back of the manuscript in the first place.  The small butterfly-like marks, possibly جع, seem like signals for a copyist of a future fair copy. Yet, given the very simple message of the letter—“sorry, I don’t have the money”—why did the author feel the need to draft it rather than simply dictate it? Was it to ensure that he remembered to mention all his friends and family, or to ensure that his difficult message was properly worded? The last command, “öyle bilesiz” (let this be known to you), reminds us of the shared space and language that existed between diplomatic and personal correspondence; firmans and other orders often ended with such phrases.


This letter offers only one small glimpse of an individual’s life, one that we see too rarely in Ottoman sources.  With time, we might be to collect these letters and understand this world of personal letter writing and to delve into intersecting world of family and vakıfs.



Source: Süleymaniye Library, Esad Efendi 579, inside of back cover. 



family
money

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