the most visible tool of this campaign, did not interest him in the least, much less bring him delight. They had also taught him that skill at the caravansary. Now he saw the exercise of it in practice. He was certain that it could be reduced to a bare minimum. Force could not be, and did not have to be, practically the only measure of success to such an extent. Avoiding death interested him. He grew accustomed to death more easily than to killing.
He was more allured by the craftsmen and inventors. He was also drawn closer to them by the variety of languages they spoke. He was amazed by their faith in their own, still unmastered, future knowledge: they were obviously not satisfied by what they already knew. This was especially evident when the sultan or a grand vizier would give them a sudden, new and seemingly impossible task. Their faith in the possible completely enchanted Bajica. They approached the solving of every problem, even the smallest one, with such dedication that it seemed the destiny of the world depended on it.
Among the builders and craftsmen, he noticed a man who must have been more than ten years older than himself, but who had so much energy that he differed from the others and seemed to be as young as Bajica. And Ibrahim-pasha actually sought him out on several occasions!
One time they were close enough for Bajica to hear them talking to each other in Greek. He knew that the Grand Vizier was Greek by background, and now he knew that this young man, like Bajica himself, was brought here in the devshirma to serve the Ottoman Empire. Ibrahim-pasha was telling him to draw attention to himself with his ideas so that he could advance in the service more quickly.
Bajica was overjoyed with his eavesdropping and with his knowledge of Greek, learned with such enthusiasm at the monastery – now he would have one more partner with whom he could come to an understanding in several ways.
Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, the Grand Vizier noticed his unhidden interest in their conversation. The pasha obviously knew very well who Bajica was, because he addressed him in Greek and offered to introduce the two young men.
“You will not just get to know each other,” the vizier made the introduction, “but you will also get to know what the other one knows.
“This is Sinan. He’s studying to be a high-ranking officer, but he’s also interested in engineering. When I start looking for him, I usually find him among the engineers and not among the soldiers. Since he is a member of the sultan’s bodyguard, the ruler remembers him and occasionally asks about him. Lutfi-pasha, the guard commander, and I often have to make excuses for his absence. Though, to be frank, he has proven to be more useful to the sultan with the ideas in his head than with a sabre in his hand.”
Bajica was surprised by the intimate tone of the Grand Vizier toward a former victim of the blood tribute.16 But Ibrahim-pasha was already giving an explanation,
“From the first days of 1511, when he was brought from the Anatolian province of Kayseri to the heart of the empire, he was just about to turn nineteen, and Sinan Jusuf was appointed to my court. In that way you are alike: you were also brought at that age from Bosnia, although at a later date. You are both Orthodox Christians by background, and you, Mehmed, almost became a monk. Sinan proved to be a brave and excellent warrior five years ago during the conquest of Belgrade, but he also revealed some of his other sides of which the empire could make great use of: he is interested in building, so he has been allowed to study that craft. This is an ideal chance for you also to learn the connection between destruction and construction.”
Bajica, on hearing this last sentence, looked at him oddly and blankly, so the pasha explained it to him, smiling in self-satisfaction all the while.
“I see you are wondering how to learn about building in the middle of a war that actually serves the opposite forces, with the intention to destroy things! Did you ever think about what the army must do before and after the destruction?”
Well, really. This had never crossed his mind.
“You see, the engineers often go ahead of the army before the attack and build roads, bridges, dikes, and ramparts. After the battle, it often happens that they find what they built in ruins, and so they have to fix it. It could be that the enemy destroys all of that, and they have to rebuild it, while we mainly destroy things, because we are conquering cities and fortifications. Most often, not much is left of them after we finish, but things have to be brought back into order for us to leave our soldiers and outposts in those fortifications once we move on or head back. We defend those fortifications from others. In truth, the engineers have nicer work in peace time: then they can build mosques, caravansaries, covered markets, fountains, minarets, hospitals and schools. And in wartime and in peacetime, they have to build graveyards.”
Then Ibrahim-pasha realised that he had got carried away, and so he let the two of them left them alone to continue the conversation.
Having met at that moment, Sinan and Mehmed did not part for a long time afterward.
Orhan Pamuk and I both came to our next session fully equipped: with chronicles, travelogues, notes, peripheral notes from German, French, Venetian, Hungarian, Serbian, Polish, and Turkish travellers, those from Dubrovnik as well, but also civil servants, explorers, emissaries, spies, educated slaves, merchants and all kinds of other people who found it worthwhile to leave behind a trace of their view on events in the Ottoman Empire.
We seemed amusing even to ourselves: like kids trading football cards, we almost began to taunt each other about who had the better collection! Pamuk first offered his own thoughts about Sokollu.
“At the critical moment, Sultan Selim figured out two important facts about his Grand Vizier, in this particular order. First, Mehmed-pasha showed exceptionally high moral standards, thereby looming over all the others around him, because he never referred again to his warning before entering the war and thereby not exploiting the chance to entice the (vulnerable and gullible) Sultan to expose the pasha’s opponents to punishment.”
I interjected, “There was a reason why they called him ‘the Tall one’”.17
“Well, that’s true. You know that the women at the court first noticed his physical appearance. Everyone spoke of his posture, saying that they had never seen such dignified carriage,” Pamuk added.
“It’s fortunate that he was also handsome, or as they would say back then – pleasing to the eye,” I tried to go on light-heartedly. But Pamuk became serious again,
“Second, without a moment’s hesitation, the vizier showed a steadiness, decisiveness and certainty in his proposals that they must take action immediately. The Sultan could not have wished for anything of greater use to the empire in the dangerous state of his own cowardice, and the general cowardice that prevailed. With his idea to build a new fleet immediately, the pasha did not mean to say that they should go straight back to war, but rather to make their enemies think twice about doing further battle. Above all, the message meant: the Ottoman Empire will not bow down!”
I had a commentary of my own.
“They also had a bit of luck. The Europeans, for their part, were ecstatic with their unexpected victory, and because of their similar feelings of unwarranted or overindulged security, they sent their ships back to their home ports, counting on finishing up the job the next year. In fact, it must be admitted, the winter had already set in, and all acts of war at sea were becoming harder and harder to carry out.”
“Yes. You’re right. Perhaps Mehmed-pasha, foreseeing such a course of action or knowing that it was certain, was actually able to insist on renovating the fleet. Although it became clear very quickly that their enemies would not attack the capital, the Grand Vizier rushed to put his ideas into action: it was necessary to show everyone, both at home and abroad, that the great power had once again become the centre of the world.”
It was true. History records that, through the exceptional organisation of the task, the Grand Vizier re-built the Ottoman fleet in just a few months! Mehmed-pasha first had several shipyards built which then proceeded to build a fleet