1921, November 28th, Monday.
Monday, the twenty-eighth of November, was a day marked by a subtle but profound shift in the atmosphere of Constantinople. After weeks of intense crisis, veiled threats, clandestine operations, and high-stakes diplomacy, the new agreement regarding the administration of the Constantinople Port Authority was to be formally signed. For Sultan Murad VII and his government, it represented the first tangible fruit of their assertive new stance, a hard-won concession wrested from the combined might of the Allied Powers. Yet, Murad knew that ink on paper, however significant, was merely a prelude to the arduous task of implementation, and a reminder of the iron resolve still needed for the myriad challenges ahead.
Murad met with Grand Vizier Tevfik Pasha and Foreign Minister Reşid Akif Pasha in the early morning. They were to represent the Imperial Ottoman Government at the signing ceremony, scheduled for late morning at the British High Commission – a venue chosen by the Allies, no doubt to maintain a semblance of their overarching authority, even in a moment of forced concession. "Today, Your Highnesses," Murad said, his gaze resting on his two most senior ministers, "you will formalize what our government's courage and an appeal to international conscience have achieved. Sign the agreement with dignity and firmness. Let there be no doubt that while we welcome this step towards a more just arrangement, we view it as precisely that – a step, not the final destination. The Allied representatives will be looking for any sign of triumphalism from our side, which they might use as a pretext for future obstruction. We must be impeccably correct, yet unyieldingly resolved in our intent to see this agreement fully implemented." "We understand, Your Majesty," Tevfik Pasha replied, his aged voice steady. "We will convey both our government's satisfaction at this move towards rectitude and our unwavering expectation that the terms will be honored in spirit and in letter." Reşid Akif Pasha added, "The Allies are, I believe, genuinely anxious to put this particular scandal behind them. The press coverage in their home countries, particularly in Britain and France, continues to be… problematic for their governments. They will want this signing to appear as a return to 'harmonious cooperation.'" "Let them have their appearances," Murad said. "We will focus on the substance."
The signing ceremony itself was a stiff, formal affair. General Harington, representing Great Britain, looked as though he were swallowing bile, his face a mask of rigid disapproval. General Pellé of France managed a strained diplomatic smile, clearly relieved that the Dubois affair was now formally eclipsed and that French liability in the Port scandal might be contained. Marquis Garroni of Italy was all smiles and unctuous pronouncements about "mutual understanding and future prosperity," ever the opportunist seeking to position Italy favorably. Tevfik Pasha and Reşid Akif Pasha conducted themselves with quiet dignity. They listened to the brief, self-serving statements from the Allied High Commissioners about "enhancing administrative efficiency" and "reinforcing cooperative partnerships." Then, the documents were signed, the seals affixed. Handshakes were exchanged, more perfunctory than cordial. A few carefully selected Allied press correspondents were present to record the event, their dispatches undoubtedly to be heavily vetted. The Ottoman government issued its own communiqué later that day. Drafted by Tevfik Pasha with Murad's direct input, it framed the agreement not as an Allied concession, but as a "successful outcome of His Imperial Majesty's government's determined efforts to uphold Ottoman sovereign rights, ensure fiscal justice for the Imperial Treasury, and institute transparency and accountability in the administration of vital national assets." It praised the "constructive spirit" that ultimately prevailed, while subtly underscoring that this was a restoration of rights that had been unjustly infringed. The reaction in Constantinople, as news of the agreement and the government's interpretation of it spread, was one of widespread relief and burgeoning pride. For the first time in years, an Ottoman government had stood up to the Allied Powers and had not buckled, had, in fact, achieved a tangible victory. Nuri Efendi's Ulema network played a crucial role in explaining the significance of the agreement to the populace in the mosques and marketplaces, emphasizing it as a sign of Allah's favor upon a just Sultan and a united people.
The ink on the paper was barely dry before Cavit Bey, Minister of Finance, began the arduous task of implementation. "Your Majesty," he reported to Murad that afternoon, "I have convened the first internal meeting of the Ottoman representatives to the new Joint Commission of Inquiry for the Port. We are preparing our strategy to demand immediate and unfettered access to all records, as stipulated. We will be relentless in pursuing the forensic audit. The 'advance payment' of five hundred thousand gold Lira has also been formally transferred to the Imperial Treasury." Murad immediately approved Cavit Bey's detailed plan for the allocation of these funds. A significant portion went to Ferik Fevzi Pasha for the Hassa Ordusu – for winter uniforms, improved rations, NCO salaries, and discreet arms maintenance. Another portion was allocated to bolster the bread subsidies in Constantinople's poorer districts and to provide emergency supplies to struggling hospitals and orphanages – a visible demonstration of the government's commitment to public welfare. A smaller, but symbolically important, amount was used to pay a portion of the overdue salaries for critical civil servants. "These funds," Murad stated, "are the first fruits of our reclaimed dignity. Let them be used to strengthen the sinews of our state and alleviate the suffering of our people."
On other fronts, the internal consolidation continued. Ferik Fevzi Pasha's men, accompanied by officials from the Ministry of Pious Foundations and the city prefect's office, formally began the process of surveying and cordoning off the vast, derelict Davutpaşa Barracks complex. As anticipated, they encountered some initial resistance. A few dozen squatters, who had established makeshift homes in the crumbling outer buildings, protested their eviction. Several small, unlicensed businesses – scrap dealers, charcoal burners – operating on the periphery with dubious claims to the land, also objected vociferously. Fevzi Pasha, however, acting on Murad's instructions, handled the situation with a mixture of firmness and fairness. Legitimate grievances were listened to. Small, one-time compensation payments were offered to the truly destitute squatters to facilitate their relocation. But those who refused to vacate after due notice, or who had no legitimate claim, were to be firmly but humanely removed by the city gendarmerie, under the watchful eye of Hassa Ordusu detachments ensuring order. "Davutpaşa will be cleared, Your Majesty," Fevzi reported. "It will take a few weeks, but it will become the heart of our new army." Cavit Bey, emboldened by his success with Lazaros Effendi and the Sultan's unwavering support, announced a formal investigation into the wartime profiteering and asset stripping activities of several prominent merchants known to have colluded with corrupt officials of the previous CUP regime and, later, with certain Allied procurement officers. This new offensive against high-level corruption sent further shockwaves through the city's elite.
Kolağası Esad Bey, meanwhile, was quietly building his Imperial Guard Intelligence Directorate. "Your Majesty," he reported to Murad in their private evening briefing, "we have successfully recruited three former Teşkilat-ı Mahsusa operatives who served with distinction on the Caucasian and Mesopotamian fronts. They are older now, but their skills in covert operations, information analysis, and particularly their understanding of regional dialects and tribal networks, are invaluable. They have passed our most stringent loyalty vetting. They will form the nucleus of our 'Special Operations and Analysis' section." He also informed Murad that they had established a first, tentative but secure, communication line with a disgruntled mid-level Ottoman clerk working within the British Military Administration's transport section. "He is not highly placed, Your Majesty, but he has access to schedules, fuel allocation reports, and troop movement plans. He is motivated by patriotism and a deep resentment of British arrogance. He could provide valuable early warnings." "Excellent work, Esad Bey," Murad commended. "Cultivate this source with extreme care. And continue your recruitment. We need loyal men and women in every shadow."
As Monday, November twenty-eighth, drew to a close, Murad felt a profound sense of a new chapter truly beginning. The ink on the Port Authority agreement was a symbol – a small victory, yes, but more importantly, a demonstration that change was possible, that the Ottoman state was not entirely helpless. The iron in his soul, the unwavering resolve to rebuild his Empire, was now being translated into concrete actions – a recovering treasury, a reforming military, a nascent intelligence service, a populace whose hope was tentatively rekindling. He knew the path ahead remained incredibly dangerous. The Allies, though forced to concede on the Port, were still the masters of Constantinople, their power immense. General Harington would be looking for any opportunity to reassert his dominance. The internal enemies, the remnants of Damat Ferid's regime and other vested interests, were still plotting in the shadows. And far away in Ankara, the silence continued, the fate of his second message to Hacı Shukri Efendi unknown. But tonight, Murad allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction. A foundation was being laid, stone by hard-won stone. The future was still a canvas of uncertainty, but he, the young Sultan with the ancient memories, was beginning to paint upon it with bolder strokes.