Women's economic autonomy and social power in eighteenth-century Ottoman Egypt

Islamic Women -- Ottoman Empire

Islamic women who lived in the Ottoman Empire in the 18th and 19th centuries are the focus of this inquiry. What was their social life like in terms fun, vice, pleasure, and other activities that involved sensuality or illegal interactions? What do various authors report regarding the activities women engaged in during this era the Ottoman Empire? This paper reviews and critiques the literature relating to the subject of women and their activities in this period of Islamic history.

Mary Ann Fay -- "Women and WAQF" (background)

In her essay, Mary Ann Fay discusses Mamluk politics and society in 18th century Ottoman Egypt, pointing to the fact that women of Mamluk households enjoyed "considerable economic autonomy" because they were owners and managers of property (Fay, 1997, 31). That gave them a certain degree of social power but as Fay explains, Mamluk women also derived power from "the importance of marital and non-marital sexual unions" -- which gave them "independent sources of information and influence" (31). The interpretation of Islamic law -- the Shari'ah -- in that era clearly gave women not only the right to own property, but also the "political power they could exercise inside the household itself," Fay continues (32). Women thus had avenues and strategies they could utilize to build on their credibility, their independence, their "influence, and power" (Fay, 32). Having mentioned the rights women had under the law Fay is quick to admit that historians are not certain as to "the extend to which women were able to exercise these rights" (32).

Fatma Muge Gocek / Mark David Baer -- Women's Social Boundaries (background)

Gocek and Baer argue that much of the historic literature on the experiences women had in the 18th Century Ottoman Empire -- at least the literature that has survived -- "is highly selective" and tends to be a "disadvantage to women" (Gocek, et al., 1997, p. 49). The authors do point out -- as Fay did in the previous page -- that women "…could and did obtain great levels of fiscal capital"; in fact Fatma Hatun owned "substantial numbers of diamonds and pearls and freehold property" that amounted to 138,300 akces (Gocek, 50). That having been pointed out, the authors add that having wealth did not "necessarily translate into power"; what did translate into power was the "location of women within the Ottoman social structure," Gocek explains on page 50.

The authors review court cases and report that women had rights of inheritance, of guardianship and they were respected in courtrooms. The missing link in completing the details about women in legal matters is that there are few records of inheritance for those women who chose not to use the courts to obtain their rights and possessions. Moreover, some goods that women rightfully should have been bequeathed "were hidden from the judge" and hence, the "inventoried goods women possessed at the end of their lives" will not generally reflect their actual material wealth, "or their downward and upward mobility" (Gocek, 54). Additional research needs to be done to more fully understand the "social boundaries of the women's experience" based on registers such as inheritance registers, Gocek continues (54).

Dina Rizk Khoury -- Moral and Spatial Boundaries -- Including Prostitution

Khoury explains that the lower class and middle class women in 19th Century Ottoman society had more flexibility to leave the house; she could have her "slippers ready at the door" and use "public spaces" to go to the market, the quarter, and elsewhere (Khoury, 1997, 114). Elite women were for the most part bound to the household; they were "…first and foremost wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters" and they remained in the household a good share of the time, Khoury explains on page 115.

Interestingly one of the places that lower and middle class women frequented was the mausolea (mausoleum) where they would participate in the "rituals and celebrations that were at times openly political in nature," Khoury continues (121). Being at the mausolea gave women the chance to "gender these spaces by attributing meanings" that were relevant to women regarding "the intercessionary powers of their saints" (121). In one case women "actually created the sainthood of a man who broke social barriers and taboos by eloping with a married woman," Khoury explains. That man was caught and killed for his deeds. But meantime the women who visited his mausoleum believed that if they could pluck one single hair from his beard they would have the power "to raise the dead" (121).

Khoury gets down to the truth about some of the "lower class" (AKA, "marginal") women on pages 118-119. They were "drawn" from certain "social groups," the author writes, including "prostitutes and rural migrant women, who were beyond the strictures of what was considered good behavior" among the urban "literati" and the middle classes (118). One particular religious scholar (whose name Khoury gives as Mullah Jirjis) tended to boast about his "exploits" with lower class women "with a degree of relish that makes one suspect envy," Khoury continues on page 119. He encountered one particular prostitute on the street and asked her how she got into her profession (or so the story goes). Her response was that "…she was an orphan and had no protectors" (119).

The story continues as the Mullah goes to her house and the two "…engaged in a sexual encounter" after which the Mullah wrote a rhyming vernacular poem regarding the "banter" that took place during the sexual encounter with the prostitute "…about the sexual prowess and libidinal drive of each" (Khoury, 119). The truly interesting part of this story that Khoury relates is that the Mullah poem -- meant to "shock" and "entertain" its readers -- was inserted into a manuscript that the Mullah wrote, a commentary on the "political and social order" in the community (119). Khoury believes the sexually explicit poem -- planted in the middle of an otherwise non-controversial narrative that read like a chamber of commerce piece -- may have been put there to represent "a world that has its own logic and moral code which separated it from that of women" (119).

There's more to the story of the wealthy, hedonistic Mullah Jirjis; he had a household with several wives and "some forty slave women," which makes a reader wonder why he would solicit sex on the street from a prostitute. In a way he was "flaunting" his wealth and he apparently symbolized the "new moral and political order of the city," Khoury writes (120). The higher class religious leaders in the city gave recognition to holy men who were "protectors of marginal women" -- which sounds like the clergy was using the guise of "protection" in order to enjoy the benefits of sexual encounters with those marginal women, in which case one could say the women were used but perhaps not abused by holy men. Another holy man, Majdub Ahmad, "was always wandering the city" and living with prostitutes, the author explains on page 120. In fact Majdub Ahmad raised money for the prostitutes and in the process defied social convention but apparently led to a lessening of social mores.

European Reaction to Harems and Concubines in Ottoman Empire

Noted Islamic historian Dror Ze'evi has critiqued the writings of European travelers to the Ottoman Empire in the 18th Century, and Ze'evi explains that "Stories of harems, odalisques, eunuchs, and sodomy seemed bizarre and intriguing" to those visitors (Ze'evi, 2009, 522). Ze'evi's essay on sex and sexuality in the Ottoman Empire reports that the main source of information for Europeans and the West in the 18th Century -- vis-a-vis the Empire -- was the writings of those travelers. The Europeans' journals and articles "were often preoccupied with issues of sexual morality and what they saw as debauchery" (Ze'evi, 522).

From these tales of harems and prostitution -- quite the opposite from a Europe that was experiencing a Renaissance-themed approach to sex and sexuality -- was born "a European literature of desire in which the Ottomans became the imagined practitioners of a sexuality seen as different and corrupt" (Ze'evi, 522). These published stories had "several dire consequences for the image of Ottoman and Middle Eastern sexuality in early modern Europe," Ze'evi explains. Certainly it wasn't objective or fair of the narratives to focus on the Ottoman elite, mainly the imperial court's sexual practices, because Ottoman society in that era was not -- as was assumed in Europe -- modeled on the court "…or subservient to its norms" (Ze'evi, 522).

Moreover the accounts of various travels into the Ottoman society "…tended to exaggerate the depravity of Ottoman society in general," and the stories sought to link "immorality" with "political impotence" in the Empire, which was false (Ze'evi, 522). Some of the stories that made their way back to Europe took on hugely false sexual themes that debased the real Ottoman society, Ze'evi writes (523). In some of the tales -- based on hearsay that originated in the 14th and 15th Centuries -- women were portrayed as "an imperfect version of men"; that is, the vagina, clitoris and uterus "were assumed to be an undeveloped version of the male penis and scrotum," Ze'evi continues (523). And yet there was no hearsay when it came to European tourists / travelers who witnessed the carnal activities in the "Shadow" theaters. Ze'evi explains that men and women "had sex on stage" and the story lines were "habitually about the pursuit of sex in its myriad forms" (523).

It is not surprising then that nineteenth century travelers to the Ottoman Empire who witnessed the raw sexual practices on the stages of Shadow theaters were "dumbfounded" by the "pornographic and immoral nature" of this entertainment, Ze'evi asserts. When these published stories were translated into the Arabic language, the Ottoman elite were "irritated" and felt they were being made to look like savages by the Europeans (Ze'evi, 523). From one point-of-view in this particular aspect of the story women in 18th Century Ottoman society were misunderstood and misrepresented, albeit there are ample secondary sources that will be referenced in this paper that show women were indeed engaged in vice and pleasure to a significant extent.

van Nieuwkerk -- Women of Enchantment & Women Smokers & Drinkers

Essayist Karin van Nieuwkerk writes that eighteenth century Egyptian female performers ("savantes") were required to have a "beautiful voice, a good possession of the language, a knowledge of the rules of poetry" (van Nieuwkerk, 1998, 21). Also, they needed an ability to "spontaneously compose and sing couplets" that were to be adapted to any circumstances in Ottoman society, van Nieuwkerk explains (21). There were two levels of female performers, van Nieuwkerk explains; the highest level, the "awalim," wrote poetry, wrote music, sang, danced and improvised during their performances (van Nieuwkerk, 22). These women also played instruments and were seen as talented, classy performers, sometimes giving shows for women in the harem; and when they did perform for the harem their presentations were screened off from the public so their music and poetry could be heard but the players could not be seen (van Nieuwkerk, 22). These were educated woman and "highly appreciated for their art"; but they only performed for women, so the level of respect was higher than if they were known to perform in front of a male audiences as well (van Nieuwkerk, 22).

The second level of female performers in the 18th Century Ottoman society were called "ghawazi"; they performed "unveiled in the streets in front of coffee houses" and were "the most accessible to foreigners since they performed publicly, van Nieuwkerk explains (22). It should be noted that coffeehouses flourished during the 18th and 19th Centuries in some parts of the Ottoman Empire, and the coffeehouse scene was generally a place for men to gather and talk about politics and society -- with a bit of sexually explicit conversation thrown in for good measure, according to the literature.

The reports from European travelers (alluded to earlier in this paper) pointed out that the ghawazi were known to "…smoke the water pipe and drank considerable amounts of brandy" the author reports (22). The contents of the "water pipe" are not specified in van Nieuwkerk's narrative, but it can be assumed it was at least tobacco, and possibly substances (like opium) that had a mind-altering effect. This is one of the few mentions of women smoking and drinking that can be found in the available literature, albeit there are indications that women did engage in these vices even though reports from traveling Europeans cannot always be accepted as valid. Suffice it to say that women who danced in front of coffeehouse (supposed dens of inequity) with faces unveiled were not considered "decent women" (van Nieuwkerk, 22)

A third group of entertaining women in the Ottoman Empire in the 18th Century were known as "common awalim" that performed for the poor in "working-class quarters," van Nieuwkerk continues (22). On page 23 the essayist explains that there were public dancers who "combined dancing and prostitution"; and as the 18th Century faded and the 19th Century unfolded, the number of "dancer-prostitutes" increased in Egypt, van Nieuwkerk goes on (23). The reasons for the increase in this type of sexually themed entertainment had to do with the political events during the early 19th Century. Many public dancers had previously been punished and "deported" to the south of Egypt when they were found in violation of the law against female dancers and prostitutes working in the capital. That law, according to van Nieuwkerk, was due to the Islamic leaders not wanting foreigners to be drawn to Cairo to see sexy unveiled women cavorting in the streets (because it produced a bad image for the Ottoman Empire).

But by the 1850s, when it was obvious that European tourists (the main source of income for these dancer troupes, hence a good thing for the economy) were following the dancers to the south (where they had been sent packing), the ban on this kind of sexy female entertainment in Cairo was lifted around 1850. Lifting the ban was about the money, van Nieuwkerk asserts, and not so much due the government's fear of negative image that foreigners would take home of these presentations in the streets. Given the available money in the pockets of the visiting foreigners, "a number of entertainers turned to prostitution" -- not so much strictly due to the requests of foreigners, but due to the "poverty and insecurity experienced in Upper Egypt" (van Nieuwkerk, 23).

Gradually the street dancing evolved into strip shows, but eventually these events faded from view and the dancers who were prostitutes moved into "music halls"; gradually "these developed into the nightclub circuit" ("cafe-chantants") van Nieuwkerk explained (24).

18th Century Istanbul Punishment for Prostitutes -- Fariba Zarinebaf

Author Fariba Zarinebaf narrative points to the fact that unlike in Cairo, prostitution and public dancing without veils was not tolerated in Istanbul in the 18th Century. When it came to prostitution, police officers frequently made "arbitrary arrests and convictions without trials" in Istanbul, Zarinebaf writes (Zarinebaf, 2011, 107). On page 108 Zarinebaf gives some examples of the way Islamic women were arrested, and many of those arrests -- because there were no trials to speak of -- are not to be found in court records, but were in fact kept separate from court records (possibly due to the sensitivity of Islamic law vs. reality on the streets).

In July, 1778, Istanbul police arrested eight prostitutes (named Um Kolsum, Tayibe, Emine, Fatma, Ayse, Zuleyha, Hadice, and another Kolsum) and "banished them to Bursa" (Zarinebaf, 108). Three of those eight had been "caught with four sailors in an orchard in the village of Kuzguncuk" on the Asiatic shore of the Bosporus. The police locked them into the boathouse near where they were arrested. Another seven prostitutes were arrested "for operating brothels in Kum Kapi in January 1791, Zarinebaf reports (108). One of the seven was blind, and the rest were believed to be "young girls."

From what Zarinebaf explains, arresting prostitutes in the Istanbul area in the 18th Century became something of a popular sport for law enforcement and activist citizens as well. To wit, "Two janissary officers arrested [a shoemaker] while he was making love to a prostitute in a shop & #8230;in December, 1799," Zarinebaf continues. The officers had been tipped off by residents, who snatched the offending couple "from the hands of the police and beat them." Clearly there were moral schisms between those who held that the Koran was to be obeyed and those who went with there base instincts vis-a-vis sex, or simply needed the money as a way to survive. The shoemaker in this case was "subsequently banished to Iznikmid," and there was no trial, just punishment.

Zarinebaf explains that prostitutes were banished (imprisoned) and forced to conduct physical labor "in the galleys for men" (108). Arrested prostitutes were placed in the hands of naval officers who took them to islands like Bursa; as to the length of the incarceration, it depended upon their cooperation and conduct, which could suggest that their sexual skills were considered part of their key to freedom albeit Zarinebaf doesn't present that as fact.

Semerdjian - Euphemisms and Criminal Conduct in the Ottoman Empire

Author Elyse Semerdjian presents interesting aspects of the laws and values in the Ottoman Empire, specifically at the ancient city of Aleppo in what is now Syria. Aleppo has been ruled by a number of civilizations, including "the Hittites, Assyrians, Akkadians, Greeks, Romans, Umayyads, Ayyubids, Mameluks," and of course the Ottomans (UNESCO). The city represents "medieval Arab architectural styles that are rare and authentic, in traditional human habitats," the UNESCO article explains. Author Semerdjian begins chapter four ("Prostitutes, Soldiers, and the People") by explaining that "Private dwellings sometimes functioned as sites of sexual and moral vice" (Semerdjian, 2008, 94). And when neighbors objected to the apparent carnal activities going on next door or down the street, the petitioned the local court in Aleppo "to remove corrupt individuals from their neighborhoods" Semerdjian explains (94).

That having been pointed out, the truth is that the shari'a court records indicate to historians that the prostitutes in Aleppo did not receive "the draconian punishments mandated in Islamic juridical writings," according to Semerdjian. Instead of tough punishment in a prison, or being banished to an island as some of the prostitutes in Istanbul were, prostitutes in Aleppo were simply banned from "living in the neighborhood where the crime took place," the author explains on page 94. They were basically kicked out of their own neighborhoods but allowed to re-settle in any neighborhood in the city of Aleppo that they wished.

Why were prostitutes allowed to basically escape punishment, contrary to the "doctrinal prescriptions" that were found in the shari'a? In fact there were harsh punishments suggested in the shari'a that some Islamic societies instituted, including 100 lashes to the woman who sold herself for sex or the man who was found to be violating his marriage vows. So this research by Semerdjian makes the point the within the shari'a there are concepts like "istihsan" and "istislah" -- concepts that give judges the flexibility to "circumvent doctrinal law" and instead institute "customary law" in cases of prostitution (Semerdjian, 94). In this case "customary law" also meant that jurists could use euphemisms to basically shield the lawbreakers from the indignity of having their crimes and names in the official historic ledgers. The crime of prostitution is called "zina" in Arabic language, but court records do not use that word; courts were "reluctant to use explicit or even standard juridical language," Semerdjian continues. Often "moral violations" like prostitution were recorded using a "number of formulaic expressions"; those included the expression "li-yandafi dararulium" -- which describes the neighborhood's response to illicit sexual activities as trying to "ward off their evil or harm" (Semerdjian, 95).

So, rather than enter into court records the fact that two people were engaged in fornication next door, the court reports that neighbors simply wanted to ward off the evil that comes when Muslims break the laws of shari'a. When neighbors complained that they were being harmed by women selling their bodies to the men living next door, the records ended up like this: a) "yu'thi al-jiran" (which translated means there were "acts that were harmful to neighbors"); b) "af'al shani'a" (there are "acts of indecency" occurring in my neighborhood); and c) "af'al qabiha" (I am the witness to and am being harmed by "morally repugnant deeds" occurring in my neighborhood) (Semerdjian, 96).

In hundreds of cases that the author researched -- while she was on a two-year Fulbright Scholarship to Syria to study the moral / social history of the Ottoman Empire -- she located "hundreds of cases" in which euphemisms like "harmful" were employed to describe "assault, cursing, as well as the revoking of guild membership" (96). The man found guilty of sleeping with a prostitute wasn't listed as a fornicator; he was entered as: a) an "ashrar" (an "evildoer"); b) or as an "ashqiya" ("mischievous" person); or c) perhaps he was entered into the record books as a "ala ghayr al-tariq al-mustaqim" (a person who has fallen "off the straight path") (Semerdjian, 96).

Why did the court in Aleppo decide to use euphemisms rather than record the actual fact through honest descriptions? Why not make "direct accusations of zina using the language of the shari'a?" The author asks. There are a couple potential reasons, Semerdjian explains on page 97. For one, family and quarter (neighborhood) privacy was "of so much concern that a euphemism might have been used to conceal the horrible details of a crime from the public" (Semerdjian, 97). In other words, while the neighbors had ridded themselves from illicit, embarrassing acts being committed on their street, they weren't willing to put a graphic label of sexual unlawfulness on those that violated the law.

The second suggestion as to why euphemisms were employed comes from Islamic law scholar Rudolph Peters, who said (quoted by Semerdjian) "…testimony to unlawful sexual intercourse (zina) must use this technical term and not just any word meaning sexual intercourse" (Semerdjian, 97). To wit, from the perspective of Islamic law, when a non-legal term is used it "greatly changes the outcome of a case," the author explains. In other words, rather than use "zina" in court -- which might require the worst punishment to be meted out, stoning to death -- the court uses euphemisms to spare the life of the guilty woman.

Conclusion

The researcher digging into women's vices, pleasures, and other activities (some clearly illegal) in 18th and 19th Century Ottoman society is certain to find a myriad of examples of these behaviors and responses to these behaviors in the secondary literature. However, there is a need for additional research into primary sources, to gain even more knowledge about allegedly illicit female behaviors in the Ottoman world. There are libraries whose data can take the alert researcher back in time in order to find verifiable evidence of additional activities on the part of women in the Ottoman Empire. And along with those first-hand reports, it is also just as fascinating to learn what Islamic society did to punish those women, or at the very least to remove them from neighbors that view sexual activities between two non-married people as immoral.