I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

Religion (2)

Shaykh al-Islam

A Shaykh means a chief or religious leader, and the Arabic term al- is the definite article similar to “the” in English.

To interpret, he was a leader of Islam and oversaw all Islamic matters within the Ottoman Empire.

He appointed judges known as Qadis who ruled on Islamic law, advised the Sultan on religious matters, and also played a role in legalizing government policies.

When Islamic scholars provide opinions on Islamic law, it is referred to as a fatwa, meaning it legitimizes the Sultan’s actions.

With such extensive responsibilities and a broad perspective, Zembilli Ali Effendi was certainly aware of how things were unfolding.

“The time has come,” he remarked.

Lines of complexity were etched around his wrinkled eyes.

Zembilli had hoped that the fame of Yusuf, who rose to the Sultan’s throne prophesizing an earthquake, would fade over time.

However, that was completely misguided; the Sultan’s fame grew rapidly. Just look at the throngs that had gathered during the recent royal return.

It was nearly akin to worship for that many people to abandon their livelihoods and flock together.

“O Shaykh al-Islam.”

“I know. The Padishah has called, so I must go.”

Responding to the persistent Islamic legal scholar, the Ulama, Zembilli rose from his seat.

Many felt the Empire was on the brink of change, and it seemed that this change would start with religion.

Zembilli looked up at the magnificent dome of the Hagia Sophia, which had endured through a millennium.

Just as the Hagia Sophia had transformed from a cathedral into a mosque over time, nothing in this world remains unchanged forever.

*

Yusuf paused while cleaning his gun and looked up.

“Did you come alone?”

“Yes, my Padishah.”

Zembilli’s reply as he knelt alone before Yusuf caused him to nod.

It was obvious why he hadn’t brought along followers like Ulama or Qadis this time.

It was a declaration that he was willing to shoulder all future responsibilities and blame himself.

“Zembilli Ali Effendi, you were the one chosen by your father.”

“Yes.”

The Ottomans operated a millet system, allowing subjects to govern their religious communities to embrace various cultures and religions.

In exchange, they had deep involvement in the selection of leaders for each religion, ensuring that the choices reflected their preferences.

The Shaykh al-Islam was appointed directly and could even dismiss them.

“What kind of person was your father in your opinion?”

“He was a deeply pious man. Surely destined to return to Allah’s embrace.”

“Indeed, he was a devout person.”

The moniker of the righteous Bayezid wasn’t given for nothing.

“You must have been disappointed by my attitude following such a father.”

“Surely you jest?”

“If not, you shall be disappointed moving forward.”

With that, Yusuf turned his gaze away from his gun.

The gun had been made by Tahir, the first flintlock rifle he had crafted, but though Tahir was embarrassed and wanted to make a new one, Yusuf refused.

While it was a crude weapon with many shortcomings, it had been his comrade since the first battle.

“This gun has been with me since my first battle. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve fired it?”

“Perhaps not very many?”

“You’re right. I’ve only fired it a handful of times.”

Born as a prince and now a Sultan, it was exceedingly rare for someone in his position to be thrown into the dangerous chaos of war, thus he rarely used weapons.

“Although used sparingly, this gun bears many scars. No matter how carefully one treats a tool, it inevitably wears out. So what do you think religion is to me?”

“…What is it?”

“A tool.”

Zembilli, who had anticipated such an obvious answer, smiled bitterly.

He wasn’t naive enough to feel devastated.

In a sense, the role of Shaykh al-Islam is to lead boldly when the Sultan leverages Islam.

However, to state such words directly was astonishing, and Zembilli strove to maintain composure.

“Are you suggesting that just as one gets old, religion must also be replaced with something new, as you mentioned before?”

“I’m merely pointing out your limitations once more. There’s nothing eternal in this world.”

“Allah is absolute and unchanging.”

“Allah indeed may not change, but those who believe do.”

After a while, Zembilli sighed as he gazed intently at Yusuf.

While he didn’t wholly agree with Yusuf’s words, he merely acknowledged the undeniable current he was swept up in.

“What would you do if I resisted the Padishah’s will?”

“I would employ an easy method. There are many who can serve as my hands and feet aside from you.”

This signified that a Shaykh al-Islam could be replaced any moment, paving the way for someone more to Yusuf’s liking.

After a brief silence, Zembilli lowered his head.

“I will follow the Padishah’s will.”

“Are you sure? I acknowledge the many things you have done for the Empire thus far. I won’t hold it against you if you wish to step back now.”

In all changes, there will always be those who are for and against it.

Their criticism would surely land on the relatively moderate Shaykh al-Islam rather than the high-minded Sultan.

With Yusuf’s consideration that Zembilli not tarnish the reputation he had built, Zembilli shook his head.

“What difference does it make if the reputation of an old man who may die at any moment is tarnished?”

“Those closest to you will turn their backs first.”

Those who opposed the shifting dynamics of Islam had rallied behind Zembilli.

Recently, the ones he connected with most had been those against the changes in Islam, and they would surely aim their swords at the traitors.

In response to Yusuf’s remark, Zembilli delivered an unexpected answer.

“Those are the very individuals I gathered precisely for such outcomes.”

“Zembilli?”

“The Islam within the Empire may waver, but the Empire must not.”

This statement was quite shocking.

Despite being a devout Muslim, to utter such words was unusual, particularly from a position often swayed by the Sultan’s desires.

Seeing Yusuf’s reaction, Zembilli chuckled lightly.

“There’s no cause for surprise. I believe Islam is safer when enveloped within the Empire.”

The Quran speaks of peace and coexistence when Muslims don’t persecute non-Muslims.

In this respect, the Empire had been peaceful, as both Christians and Muslims, who comprised the majority, coexisted.

That was why Zembilli prioritized the Empire’s stability.

“If you are saying all this, I will say no more. Just remember one thing. Once begun, you cannot step back.”

“If the Padishah’s commands are ultimately for the peace of the Empire, I shall obey.”

“No one desires that more than I do.”

“Then I will heed the Padishah’s plans.”

With Zembilli’s agreeable answer, Yusuf began to explain his intentions.

“As you know, given my wishes, I could easily be revered as a saint. Surely you are aware of that?”

“…I am aware.”

It might have been fortunate if he were merely at the level of a saint.

There were even those claiming Yusuf to be the prophet succeeding Muhammad, despite the Quran stating otherwise.

The heresy was unprecedented, yet there was no way to suppress it.

After all, one couldn’t punish the Sultan Yusuf for serving him, could they?

“You once asked if I intended to become a god.”

“The Padishah stated he had no desire to become a cumbersome god.”

That unexpected reply remained vivid in his memory.

It is natural for a ruler to wish to be worshipped like a god, but he had outright rejected it.

“That sentiment has not changed. So you need not wear such a serious expression.”

“This old man’s face is always serious.”

“Let’s leave it at that. Anyway, movements like this aren’t exclusive to Islam.”

“I’ve heard there are those among the people of the Book who assert such things as well.”

In Islam, Christians and Jews were collectively known as the people of the Book, referencing the Torah and the Old Testament from the Bible.

At Zembilli’s words, Yusuf’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Why do you think such assertions emerged?”

“Padishah?”

A look of incredulity crept onto Zembilli’s face.

It felt somewhat peculiar. Even though he didn’t wholly follow Islam, the Sultan was still nominally a Muslim.

It seemed strange for a Sultan to be the subject of reverence as a saint, but little did he know that the Sultan might have been playing a double game.

“Why are you so surprised? Tools do not choose their masters. It is the master who chooses the tool.”

Zembilli swallowed a laugh at Yusuf’s brazen attitude.

His previous remarks were neither empty words nor mere projections; treating religion as a mere tool was odd yet fascinating.

“Do you genuinely intend to become a true saint?”

“While I don’t wish to be a saint, I ought to earn some level of respect, shouldn’t I?”

Though dominated by the Ottomans, many regions had yet to establish a sense of being citizens of the Empire.

Underlying this sentiment was the degree to which they loathed serving a pagan emperor.

“First, I intend to halt the Devshirme system.”

The Devshirme, referred to as a blood tax, was a system that drafted Christian boys and drew significant backlash in regions where it was implemented.

If the Devshirme system were halted, it would garner immense support.

“Is that alright?”

“I am well aware of the benefits of the Devshirme system.”

The core officials in the Ottoman Empire and the Janissaries had been indoctrinated from a young age, greatly boosting their loyalty.

While the Sultan might find it a waste to discard such a system, Yusuf evaluated it coldly.

‘Although they’ve been trained to inspire loyalty since childhood, they’re still human. Loyalty can always waver.’

The fact that the Janissaries played a vital role during times of Sultan transitions made that clear.

Of course, substantial resources were expended to strengthen loyalty, and provided favorable treatment, but if he was already solidifying loyalty, there was no need to maintain a system that attracted criticism.

“Zembilli, do you believe I would lose loyalty because I didn’t select individuals through Devshirme?”

“I doubt that.”

Yusuf’s reputation extended even into the realm of faith.

Loyalty was secondary; merely showing signs of opposition could result in being stabbed by a colleague nearby.

“Or do you think I might diminish my authority by making mistakes going forward?”

“Your authority will rise.”

Even if he conquered only the Mamluks and then spent his life in leisure, he would still be praised as a great Sultan.

There was no reason to worry about loyalty just because there was no Devshirme.

“However, wouldn’t there be issues for the prince and future generations?”

“Hmph, why would I worry about an incompetent generation that can’t even inspire loyalty among the underlings?”

Such a generation occupying the throne was far worse than being beheaded and inciting a civil revolution.

Zembilli was struck dumb by Yusuf’s resolute words.

The more they spoke, the more fearful he became of the thoughts that filled Yusuf’s mind.

“If there’s a decent successor to follow me, they will surely devise necessary strategies. Anyway, I plan to fill the vacancy left by Devshirme as a test.”

“…That target won’t be restricted to Muslims, will it?”

“Of course not. And you must help explain this to the Muslims.”

Zembilli’s expression darkened at the daunting task ahead, but it wasn’t over yet.

“I will send portraits depicting my face across various regions. At the very least, they should know whom they’re serving. Of course, I won’t use Islamic styles in the paintings.”

“That raises issues of idolatry.”

Even creating a ruler’s portrait could carry the risk of idolatry, which had hindered the development of Islamic miniatures.

Zembilli exhaled deeply.

“I will do my utmost.”

*

“Therefore, get my portrait painted. At least a hundred copies must be made.”

“…Yes?”

Having just escaped being a mere grunt, Michelangelo was momentarily dazed and shouted urgently.

“I am a sculptor!”

“Then shall you create a hundred statues instead?”

Michelangelo obediently picked up a brush.