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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many individuals and institutions contributed to the writing of this book. First and foremost, I wish to acknowledge the Fulbright-Hays fellowship, which allowed me to travel and live abroad to conduct research in multiple archives; the MacArthur Foundation / Center for International Studies; the Mellon foundation; and the University of Akron’s Faculty Research Grant, which granted me the funds necessary to conduct additional research in France and Turkey.
The administration and staff of various libraries and archives made my research smoother and more pleasant. I thank in particular the staff at the Public Record Office in London; the Archives du Ministère des Affaires Etrangères in Paris and Nantes; the Archives du Ministère de la Defense, Chateau de Vincennes; the Nubar Pasha Library in Paris; the Institut Kurde de Paris; the Bașbakanlık Osmanlı Arșivi in Istanbul; the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.; Princeton University Library; the University of Montana Mansfield Library; and the staff involved with OhioLink and Interlibrary Loan at the University of Akron’s Bierce Library. Vera Saeedpour was a unique and thought-provoking presence at the Kurdish Library in Brooklyn.
During my time at Princeton, M. Șükrü Hanioğlu taught me the nuances of late-Ottoman history and was always extremely generous with his time in checking my translations from Ottoman to English. Hamit Bozarslan, Heath Lowry, and Negin Nabavi offered invaluable comments on an earlier draft of this work. Norman Itzkowitz helped to train me in the lessons of Ottoman history and life, and Michael Cook was always available and forever humorous and helpful in his advice to me. At New York University, Khaled Fahmy, Zach Lockman, Farhad Kazemi, and Samira Haj challenged my thinking. Rifa‘at ‘Ali Abou-El-Haj was more inspiring to my intellectual development than I can express in words. He taught me to be my “own guru,” and for this—and for his continued love, interest, and support—I am indeed grateful. Martin van Bruinessen and Hamit Bozarslan, who have continuously supplied support, advice, and inspiration to me, have been particularly helpful as I explored the nuances of Kurdish history. Hamit Bozarslan and Cristina Cramerotti were especially hospitable during my stay in Paris. The late §inasi Tekin helped to refine my understanding of the Ottoman language, and Michael Chyet and Birusk Tugan did their best to teach me proper Kurmanci (Kurdish), and although I let them down on many occasions with my mistakes I am indebted to their efforts. Many friends in Princeton helped me to think about my topic in new ways, and a number of them continue to provide me with feedback, friendship, and support. In particular I think of Christine Philliou, Herro Mustafa, Baki Tezcan, Jocelyn Sharlet, İpek Yosmaoglu, Mike Reynolds, Orit Bashkin, Mustafa Aksakal, Milen Petrov, Jessica Tiregol, Asma Sayeed, Șuhnaz Yilmaz, Noha Bakr, Ronen Raz, Berrak Buryak, and Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet, who visited Princeton and became a friend and mentor.
My colleagues in the history departments at the University of Montana and the University of Akron have been supportive, helpful, and indeed fun. Diane Rapp, in Missoula, was ever ready with administrative support and comic relief. Kym Rohrbach and Wade Wilcox have been friends, support systems, and a constant source of levity. Martha Santos has gone through the book-writing process with me and has been a wonderful friend throughout. My students at both universities have provided me with rewarding discussions that have enriched my thinking.
My friends “on the outside” have also given me valuable insights and welcome distractions. Here I think of Chandra Sriram, Stephanie Harves, Stephanie Smith-Browne, Mary Newsome, Margaret Lo, Ping Foong, Helen Hauser, Genia Kozorovitskiy, Karen Ballentine, Ritsuko Yamamoto, Audrey Welber, Melina Pastos, Helena Hoas, Ken Lockridge, Michel Valentin, Anna Lockowich, Margaret Boyer, Karin Knight, Romy Le Claire Loran, Lis Bacus, Hilda Ahmed, Jehan Mullin, Resa Whipkey, Brian Bostaph, and Alan Savoy. Sinemkhan Bedir Khan and Salah Saadallah brought history to life for me as I spent time with them in the regions my study explores. My beloved companions—my rescue dogs, Elliot and Buzzy—have warmed my lap during the many hours I was at my computer. Lastly, my parents—Daniel and Heidi Klein—to whom I dedicate this work, have always been inspiring for their ethical principles, smarts, creativity, open-mindedness, and sense of humor.
This work would not be possible without the confidence, support, and advice of Kate Wahl, my editor at Stanford University Press. I feel so fortunate to be involved with an editor of such quality and integrity. Joa Suorez has also been very helpful and generous in responses to queries about my manuscript. Tim Roberts has been an insightful, supportive, and efficient production editor, and Andrew Frisardi has been not only a thorough and careful copy editor, but extremely patient as he worked through my long and messy bibliography. Barbara Roos was a speedy, thorough, and friendly indexer. The readers of my manuscript provided insightful and invaluable comments about my work. I thank them for inspiring me to consider additional angles and to refine my thoughts. Miige Gogek’s discerning eye has been particularly helpful. She has gone beyond the call of duty in suggesting additional areas of inquiry and connection and in providing ever helpful words of support. Re§at Kasaba has also long been a source of encouragement and advice. I cannot close without acknowledging the archival help that Sait Ozervarh and Kamal Soleimani provided. While all of the institutions and individuals named above have contributed to the writing of this book in various ways, any errors in fact or interpretation are entirely my own.
Introduction
The Hamidiye Light Cavalry in the Ottoman Tribal Zone
Early in the spring of 1891, while heavy snows still blanketed their mountainous homeland, a group of influential Kurdish chieftains departed on a lengthy journey to the capital of the Ottoman Empire, whose borderlands they inhabited. It would be the longest voyage they had ever undertaken, through which they would blaze a trail for others. Used to a level of respect and deference accorded to them by their tribesmen and clients, the pomp and ceremony with which they were received in Istanbul was, however, a new experience. Dressed in special robes adorned with gold brocade befitting an audience with the sultan and caliph of the empire, these chiefs made their formal act of submission to His Imperial Majesty. In return they received decorations and the highest of distinctions during ceremonies that were at once solemn and festive, which were held in their honor.1 Having prepared for this moment for weeks, it was the crown jewel in their long journey. They would stay in the capital for another two months, basking in the glory of their newly accorded honors, and would return to their distant homelands changed men.
Those who monitored these events, however, were very concerned. The British military attache to the Ottoman Empire remarked that there was “general consensus of opinion native and foreign that a very large organisation with little or no modern discipline and with very shadowy government control is not likely to give good results and might lead to unpleasant incidents.”2 Soon, protests flowed from the pens of Ottomans and foreign observers alike over the activities and indeed the existence of these special Kurdish tribal cavalry units—the Hamidiye, named after ...
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