The Blue Hour

Chapter 11: Flora

"Have you heard about the events in Salonika, Mlle Cordier," Francois asked. "Yesterday, the French and the German Consuls of Salonica were lynched by an angry Muslim mob."

"Oh, spare Mlle Cordier's pretty ears," Salim protested.

There were already too many strange stories going around, of abductions, slaves with tongues slit, harem maidens thrown into the Bosphorus, they made the empire rather creepy. Still, Flora couldn't resist listening. It was horrific and exciting at the same time. Mme Giraud too, joined at the counter and Francois relayed the news. A Greek Orthodox girl wanted to convert to Islam to marry a Turk. Her family was against it so they kidnapped her. A Muslim mob launched a rescue mission. When the French and the German Consuls tried to mediate, the mob tore them to pieces. "No wonder people are scared," he concluded. "And now, the softa' riots have brought violence to our doorstep. I fear for the lives of all Christians, even here in Pera."

"Well, I am going back to France," Mme Giraud said. "They were in my yard last night, you know."

"Who was in your yard," Francois asked bewildered.

"Why, the Muslim fanatics, of course."

"The Balkan Christians are in part responsible for stirring up trouble, don't you think?" Salim said. "They're not innocent, and neither are the Russians."

Salim referred to the Balkan provinces where Christian populations rebelled to throw off the oppressive yoke of the Islamic empire. Since early spring, places Flora had never heard of suddenly appeared dangerously close. In April, Christian rebels in Montenegro and Bosnia declared war on the Porte demanding independence. Last week, Christian rebels in Bulgaria massacred hundreds of their Muslim neighbours. Muslims retaliated and the violence between Christians and Muslims spread like wildfire across the empire. Russian secret agents stoked the fire by inciting the Christians to rebellion. The empire was coming apart at the seams.

"If Midhat Pasha returns to government things will calm down," Salim said.

"On the contrary, my friend," Francois exclaimed. "It would prove that the Sultan has lost all control of government. That mob rule has been established. Under no circumstance should the Sultan cede to the softa."

"Midhat Pasha is reasonable and competent," Salim said.

"But in this government, he would be surrounded by incompetence and corruption. With Sultan Abdulaziz in power, nothing can be done. Nothing."

Mme Giraud ordered a round of sherry for everyone. She raised her glass and declared: "The end is near. To our Christian brothers and sisters in the Balkans who will not stop fighting until they are free. There will be war and chaos, the Islamic empire is obsolete, it has already collapsed."

"My point precisely," Francois said.

"If you believed that you wouldn't stay," Salim said. "You would save yourself and your business. For hundreds of years, the army, the Sultan, and his government, has held it all together, and the empire will hold for centuries more."

"It's falling apart as we speak."

"And in the process, those softa will have us all killed," Mme Giraud interjected.

Francois turned to Salim. "You call yourself Ottoman, explain to me what the softa want?"

His voice was ironic. Francois did not believe there was such a thing as an Ottoman. He believed language, culture and religion united a people, not a six-hundred year lineage of Sultans. Salim believed people were united by six-hundred years under the same rule, while race and religion meant nothing.