| addition to these cases, one man had married a woman who had left her first husband for another man and then returned to him, finally to be divorced by him and come to Sakaltutan to her present husband. And the poor half wit sister of Osman’s (C 3) wife had run home from four husbands by the age of about eighteen. Divorce is a simple matter for a man in an Islamic society. He has only to utter, in front of witnesses, words stating or implying that the marriage is terminated and that is sufficient. In fact, Granquist (4) reports for Palestine that it is all too easy, and words uttered in anger are often regretted. In Sakaltutan I heard of no instances of this, rather the ease of divorce on the one hand and its infrequency in Sakaltutan on the other raise a problem. An important sanction against divorce seems to be economic, the cost of replacement. When a young man marries with a full wedding his father is certain to have spent from 500 to 1000 T.L. to bring this about. Divorce means the loss of any advantage from this sum, and the expenditure of from 200 T.L. to 500 T.L. on another wife, and often no little trouble to find one. Whether in addition any proportion of the bride price is payable to the girl’s father, I do not know. (5) If there was, under the old regime any such system in the villages, it must have rested on the religious courts for enforcement. What pressure a man could nowadays apply to extract payment from a recalcitrant son-in-law who divorced his daughter I do not see. Certainly the state courts would not help. Any man divorcing a woman could and surely would claim that the fault was with her. But this question apart, the institution of a non-recoverable bride price alone forms a strong economic sanction against divorce. There is also moral and social weight against divorce. On one occasion, Ali Osman said to me, “If our wives do not please us, we divorce them”, but he, on another day, qualified this freedom by saying “It is a sin to divorce a wife simply because you do not like her”. This attitude, if not very strong, was apparent in other discussions of divorces and in reactions to examples. It is consistent with Islam, for the prophet pronounced the curse of God on whoever divorces his wife for mere whim. Also a man loses a certain amount of face if he divorces a wife, since such action is regarded as an admission of weakness, and will usually, unless he has a peculiarly sound reason, provoke the amusement of his neighbours. Other factors may help to play a part in maintaining marital stability. The social segregation of the sexes which I have discussed in Chapter VIII reduces the mutual dependence of the partners on each other for companionship, and |
| the social homogeneity means that one woman is likely to be roughly as efficient in domestic duties as any other. Since romantic or passionate attachment plays so little part in village ideas of sex, it is only consistent that strong personal dislike should be equally discounted. The rareness of adultery, itself, in part, a by-product of the social segregation, minimised what in many other societies is one of the commonest grounds of divorce. Lastly the very great ceremonial emphasis on weddings, which means, in this case, on first marriages, is surely correlated with marriage stability. Such prolonged merrymaking and elaborate ceremonies would seem foolish in a society, such, for example as the Tallensi (6) were marriages often broke down in the early stages. For a woman, who can, according to Islamic Law, obtain divorce against her husband’s will only on grounds of proven impotence and by order of a religious court, there is in the village no means of obtaining a divorce. But in practice, so long as she has a kabile to take her part, she can go home to her father or to her brothers, if she feels that she is being maltreated. As far as I can judge, her father usually accepts her, and allows her to stay as long as she desires. Two cases of this situation came to my notice during Mehmet’s (BA 2) search for a wife. In one case, the daughter of a man of Ac village, married to Kz village, came home because she could not get on with her father-in-law, according to reports reach me. Immediate attempts were made to persuade the parents to give her to Mehmet, all in great haste lest her husband should reclaim her. The overtures did not seem to meet with unqualified refusal, but after high hopes had been expressed in BA circles, the matter was dropped because the father hoped for reconciliation, which afterwards did come about. The other case was similar. A woman of Gn Village had married her mother’s brother’s son, but left him after three weeks, in circumstances which made her father unwilling to send her back to him. Three months later, by secret negotiations, lasting only three days, and culminating in an expedition by night to fetch the girl, her marriage to Mehmet was arranged. All these precautions, I was informed, were due to the danger of objections by the girl’s neighbours and especially her former husband, who wanted her back. If this was the truth, and I was not, for personal reasons, in a position to check it, then it follows that the husband had not divorced the girl. Yet another marriage was arranged and the religious marriage ceremony for it performed. Equally, in the first case quoted above, the girl was clearly not divorced, and had not even waited the three months required by the Islamic Law before going to another husband, yet it was intended to obtain her as a wife for Mehmet, if possible and without delay. In cases such as these, the husband has no claim at all on a refund of bride |
| price, but keeps what he can of the girl’s trousseau, that is, everything but her clothes and personal possessions. Whether such articles as bedding are given back seems to depend on the circumstances and the personalities involved. As appears from these instances, a woman, if and only if she has her father’s backing, can obtain a de facto divorce which is socially acceptable to village society by simply leaving her husband. Not only do weddings form the major social and ceremonial events in the villages, it seems self evident, while one is among these people, that marriage is the key institution in the social structure. Every household and every kinship tie rests on the foundation of a marriage. Marriage determines a woman’s residence and up to a point a man’s also. For example, to discover whether a young man like the youngest of the four brothers (FB 4), Bekir, who had gone to town as a plasterer and been away over a year, was expected to remain away permanently or not, the easiest way was to ask if he were going to marry in the village or in the town to which he had gone. All emigrants from the village took wives in their new environment. So obvious did the importance of marriage seem that to state it seemed redundant, yet it would not be true, without serious qualification, of other societies, that marriage is the most fundamental institution; and the fact that its importance stands out so clearly seems to be correlated with the great ceremonial stress on weddings and the comparative stability of marriages. Marriage is the foundation and the keystone of the structure of kinship and personal relations which I have endeavoured to outline in Chapters V-IX, and, appropriately, completes the study of this part of village life. But it is necessary to see these relationships in their political and economic setting, and I therefore turn, first to a chapter on the political organisation, and then to village economies. |
| X | POLITICAL AND ADMINISTRATIVE ORGANISATION |
| 1. | Power in the Villages |
| Villages form clear and definite social units, and are recognised as such in the political system of the country. They are groups into rural areas, called “nahiye”, each under the control of the “mudur” appointed by the central government. Sakaltutan falls under the nahiye of Talas, which contains about twenty villages. Within the village, the muhtar is responsible for political and administrative affairs. Under his presidence, in theory at least, is a Council of Elders, (Ihtiyar Heyeti), which is supposed to assist, advice and control him. |
| These institutions are indigenous, and undoubtedly in the past the muhtar represented the real political power in the village, and the Council really consisted of the village elders. Nowadays, the muhtar no longer represents the centre of power within the village, and the Council is a Council of Elders only in name. The official system thus stands apart from the real leadership and seat of power in the villages. What in fact happens must vary greatly from village to village, according to local personalities, the distribution of wealth, and the pattern of local kabileler. Where one finds, as in Kb and Gn villages, a local man generally acknowledged to be an aga, and backed by a large kabile, a great deal of power and influence in village affairs may rest in his hands. But even in these cases, the removal to government supervision of most of the day to day village business through a muhtar who is not of importance inside the village, lessens their influence. The power of these men in the old days is said to have been very great, but the impressions which I gained of the present position is that any active leadership or control of village affairs from within the village goes by default. Every household is economically independent, and there is much emphasis on minding one’s own business. A rich family may have prestige and influence but, in most cases, it would be wrong to speak of control, or of exploitation. In Sakaltutan, the wealthier families did not appear to exercise any direct influence. The richest household, T 1, was unpopular, and having no agnatic group of households to support it, was of little political importance. The DT kabile, with the backing of their kinsmen, did set up to be the leading family, and Haci Ali was perhaps the most influential man in the village. Second in influence was Haci Ahmet, partly because of his wealth, partly because he is liked and thought well of - he boasts he has no enemies - and partly through the support of his sisters’ sons, (1) and his wife’s kin. (CS 1). He was, when I left the village, engaged on the construction of a mill, with plans for a regular shop and coffee house. If these enterprises flourish, his wealth and power are likely to increase. But neither of these men can be said to control village affairs. Up to a point they are rivals, but the other larger kabileler, SI, VA, and VT, BA and BK, FA and FB, are each independent of them and belong to neither side, so that in practice there is a power vacuum, in which the muhtar copes with day to day business and decisions required by the government largely on his own responsibility. Apart from these matters, there are no joint activities or public affairs which call for village leadership, and there is no village leadership to initiate such activities. |
| 2. | The Muhtar |
| The muhtar, under the Republic, is an elected official, subject to re-election at regular intervals. Until 1950, the period was four years unless the incumbent retired before the end of his term. In practice, most muhtars are anxious to be rid of their office at the end, or even before the end of their term, and those who are not, are unlikely to be re-elected. In Sakaltutan, there were at least two muhtars during the four year term 1942-46, and two again between 1946 and 1950. In the second period the retirement of the first muhtar was due to ill health, but in the earlier term, it was due to dislike of the personal odium involved in the duties. The rapid turnover of muhtars is typical of most of the villages. Under a new law of 1950, the election of muhtars is to take place in future every two years. In theory any villager not criminal or mentally deficient can stand for the office, but as the muhtar has the duty of entertaining all strangers and officials visiting the village, it is essential that he have a respectable oda at his disposal, or the backing of someone who will offer him the use of one, and be able, himself or with help, to provide for the guests. This requirement precludes all but the moderate or well-to-do families from holding the office. The muhtar receives a small allowance, in Sakaltutan 25 T.L. a month (about £3), though whether this more than meets his expenses, I do not know. I was surprised to see the muhtar buying eggs from a pedlar, to whom all the other villagers sold them. Certainly, the financial advantage of office is but slight. In the past, as far as the accounts of the villagers are reliable, the muhtar’s duties were firstly this - the entertainment of strangers, secondly, the settlement of disputes and the ordering of public affairs and thirdly, dealing with the government. The task of entertaining village guests has remained to him, though not an official duty, and for those who can afford it without worry, this is regarded as a privileged and a source of prestige. There is always competition to entertain any distinguished visitor, and the muhtar naturally has first claim. Of the other two duties, the influence of the muhtar inside the villages has greatly decreased, and his work now is almost confirmed to being mouthpiece and executive of the government, represented by the nahiye Muduru. He has to cope with a good deal of paper work, keeping the village register, accounts and so on, answering letters from the Mudur, and filling up statistical returns. Since he is often illiterate and has no personal interest in all this, the only motive he brings to these tasks is that of avoiding trouble for himself. Where the muhtar is illiterate, he has to employ and rely on a village scribe. In sakaltutan this work was done by Ali Osman (BK 1), the schoolmaster. The orders which come from above are often unpopular with the villagers, and must in the earlier period of rapid legislated |