^{page 334 note 1} Eisenstadt, S. N., Political Systems of Empires (New York,1962), p. 317.Google Scholar The term is from Altheim, F., Gesicht von Abend und Morgen (Frankfurt, 1955), pp. 124 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 335 note 1} This article is a revised version of part of my Ph.D. dissertation, ‘From Reis Efendi to Foreign Minister, Ottoman Bureaucratic Reform and the Creation of the Foreign Ministry’ (Harvard, 1969).Google Scholar

^{page 335 note 2} Except as otherwise noted, this account of the structure of the traditional offices of the Reis Efendi and of the patterns of organization and procedure within them derives from Hammer-Purgstall, J. von, Des Osmanischen Reiches Staatsverfassung und Staatsverwaltung (Vienna, 1815), vol.2, pp. 109–19, 125–37,Google Scholar and Mouradgea d'Ohsson, I., Tableau général de l'Empire Othoman (Paris, 1824), vol. 7, pp. 159–72.Google Scholar These may be supplemented by Uzunçarşili, İ. H., Osmanli Devletinin Merkez ve Bahriye Teşkilâtt: (Ankara, 1948), pp. 40–76;Google ScholarDeny, J., ‘Re'îs ül-Küttâb,’ EI ¹, vol. 3, pp. 1140–2;Google Scholarİnalcik, H., ‘Reis-ülküttâb,’ İA, vol. 9, pp. 671–83;Google ScholarGibb, and Bowen, , Islamic Society and the West (Oxford, 1950), vol. 1, i, pp. 107–37.Google Scholar

^{page 335 note 3} In terms of precise dates, the discussion in this article is primarily applicable to the years immediately around the accession of Selîm III in 1789. It is clear, however, that the condition of the offices of the Reis Efendi must have remained primarily as here described until well into the reign of Mahmüd II, perhaps as late as 1830, and the dates of the sources on which we have drawn reflect this wider frame of reference. What limits the strict applicability of the present discussion to the early years of Selîm III is the fact that bureaucratic reform in the offices of the Reis Efendi actually began in 1797 as part of Selîm's ‘New Order’. For at that time, aside from the usual, unsuccessful attempts to repress bureaucratic indiscipline which we shall discuss below, Selîm attempted to set more restrictive standards, in terms of both numbers and qualifications, for bureaucratic recruitment and also organized a separate section in the Office of the Imperial Divan to handle business of special importance (Dîvân-i hümâyûn mühimme ôdasî). Of these changes, which can be followed in BBA, Kal. Niz., only the latter proved of lasting consequence. The next important change in the offices of the Reis Efendi did not occur until 1821, when Mahmûd founded the famous Translation Office of the Porte, and even this initiative neither acquired real importance nor had any important sequel before the trauma of Hünkâr İskelesi in 1833. Since the reforms undertaken in this part of the bureaucracy prior to 1833 were thus few in number, clearly identifiable, limited in impact, and in some cases short-lived, we are here omitting them from discussion and leaving them for a separate analysis on the beginnings of the reform movement. In this article we look at the official structures inherited by Selîm III and emphasize features of them which continued into the period of reform.

^{page 336 note 1} İnalcik, H., ‘Pâdişah’, İA, vol. 9, pp. 494–5.Google Scholar

^{page 336 note 2} The Ottoman, and more generally the Islamic, tradition of slavery does not yet appear to have received the systematic investigation it needs. See Brunschvig, R., ‘‘Abd,’ EI ², vol. 1, pp. 35–6.Google Scholar

^{page 336 note 3} Uzuncçarşili, , op. cit. pp. 113 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 336 note 4} Hammer, , op. cit. vol. 2, pp. 102, 109, 119;Google Scholard'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. 7, pp. 159, 166–67.Google Scholar

^{page 336 note 5} İnalcik, , ‘Reis-ül-küttâb’, İA, vol. 9, p. 682.Google Scholar

^{page 337 note 1} Hammer, (op. cit. vol. 2, p. 110)Google Scholar and d'Ohsson, (op. cit. vol. 7, p. 160) both emphasize the great variety of matters—other than financial—handled in the Beylik Office. Its role in the preservation of treaties made with foreign powers and the handling of the day-to-day business which arose under them is emphasized in BBA, Kal. Niz., p. 4, regulations of 17 N 1211/1797. This text indicates that the office had been charged with the recording of treaties made with European powers and other matters of similarly diplomatic nature ‘since peace was first made with the states of Europe’—meaning, in effect, since the Empire had begun to contract (‘ibtidâ Avrupa devletleriyle muşâ1ahasî mun'akid ôldîğî târîhlerden ilâ yevminâ hâzâ…’)Google Scholar

^{page 337 note 2} The disagreement over the exact place of the Mektûbî quite likely arises from the fact that he, rather like the Reis Efendi in this respect, was a sort of secretary to the Grand Vezir and thus did not logically belong under any one of the Grand Vezir's three main subordinates. D'Ohsson, (op. cit. vol. 7, p. 170) calls the Mektûbî a subordinate of the Kâhya Bey.Google ScholarHammer, (op. cit. vol. 2, p. 109) places the Mektûbî under the Reis Efendi,Google Scholar while Uzunçarşili, (op. cit. p. 260) says that he came with time to be regarded as so placed. Additional support for the view of Hammer and Uzunçarşili comes from regulations drawn up for the Mektûbî Office in 1211/1797. These specify that proposed appointments to the office should be referred from the Mektûbî to Reis Efendi, who would in turn report on the worthiness of the applicants to the Grand Vezir (BBA, Kal. Niz., p. 19).Google Scholar

^{page 338 note 1} The function of the Greek Translators and the fact that none in the bureaucracy but they and their assistants (dîl ôğlâlarî) had the ability to perform it, makes this office one of the most important under the Reis Efendi. As Hammer emphasized, the Translator of the Divan, in the conduct of diplomatic affairs, occupied the second most important place after the Reis Efendi (op. cit. vol. 2, p. 118).Google Scholar The separateness of the translators from the Muslim majority of the bureaucracy is, however, underscored not just by differences in ethnicity and education, but also by the fact that the translators followed a different channel of bureaucratic advancement. The position of Translator of the Divan led on, not to any office at the Porte, but rather to the positions of voyvoda of Moldavia or Wallachia. It is also clear that, by the late period, this channel of advancement had come to be monopolized by a small number of the leading Greek families of Istanbul. Available accounts include those of Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. pp. 71–6,Google Scholar and Osman, Ergin, İstanbul Mektepleri ve İlim, Terbiye ve San'at .Müesseseleri Dolayisile Türkiye Maarif Tarihi (Istanbul, 1939–43), vol. 1, pp. 56, and vol. 2, pp. 611–21.Google Scholar

^{page 339 note 1} Hammer, , op. cit. vol. II, pp. 111–12;ref023Google Scholard'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. VII, pp. 160–1. Hammer, presumably using terms familiar to him from Hapsburg official practice, describes the şerhlüs, şâgirds, and kâtibs respectively as Kanzellisten, Konzipisten, and Sekretäre.Google Scholar

^{page 339 note 2} The applicability of the term şerhlüs eluded Gibb, and Bowen, (op. cit. vol. 1, i, p. 122 n. 4). Şerh normally means some sort of literary commentary or marginal gloss. Its use here apparently derives from the fact that the şerhlüs were compensated with the revenues of tîmârs; the şâgirds and kâtibs, with those of ze'âmets. Hammer makes quite clear that the şâgirds and kâtibs were referred to for this reason as gediklüGoogle Scholar (op. cit. vol. 2, p. 112).Google Scholar What he and d'Ohsson do not say is that the term şerhlü, literally ‘having a şerh,’ seems to come from the use of the term şerh to refer to a part of the records on the status of these clerks as tîmâar-holders, the comparable element of the records for the ze'âmet-holders and sometimes their positions as well, being referred to as gedik.ref023 Cf. reference to ‘gediklü zeamet ve şerhli timarlardan…’ in Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. p. 50 n. 2, citing BBA, Mühimme defteri no. 160, entry of 1171/1757–8, on p. I.Google Scholar

^{page 339 note 3} D'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. 7, p. 161;Google ScholarHammer, , op. cit. vol. 2 p. 112.Google Scholar The difference between gedik and şerh appears to have been of significance in this regard, also Deny, J., in a general article on the tîmâr (EI ¹, vol. 4, p. 771), describes the gedik as a privilege, limiting the fief-holder's obligation to go on campaign only to cases when the armies were commanded by the Grand Vezir. The comments of d'Ohsson and Hammer appear to reflect this fact.Google Scholar

^{page 339 note 4} Uzunçarşili, (op. cit. p. 49 n. 5, and p. 50 n. 2)Google Scholar quotes documents of 1144/1732 and 1171/1757–8 referring to the existence of mülâzims in the Divan Office, but in such a way as to indicate that the use of the term was not firmly fixed. The former of these documents refers to mülâzims who received the income of ze'âmets and şâgirds who received only that of tîmârs. An archival document of 1788 equates the mülâzims of the Divan Office with the şerhlüs: ‘Dîvân-i hümâyûn kaleminin kâtib ve şâgird gediklûlerî ve mülâzim şerhlülerî’ (BBA, Rü'us defteri no. 217, ‘ilm-ü-haber, entry of I C 1202). An extreme example of the confusion surrounding these terms appears in a rü'us reproduced by Uzunçarşili, (op. cit. p. 89) concerning the appointment of a şâgird in the Divan Office in 1122/1710. Even though he had the advantage of being a clerk's son (kâtib-zâde), the text specifies that he was appointed without either tîmâr or ‘ulûfe (on which see the following note), no mention of a ze'âmet being made at all.Google Scholar

^{page 340 note 1} This, at any rate, was the eighteenth-century pattern in the financial offices (TPK, D 3208). It is also implicit in the rü'us of 1122/1710 mentioned in the preceding note. The term ′ulûfe, more familiar as the designation for the pay of the Janissaries, was applied to the share assigned to the clerk out of the fees collected in the office. Uzunçarşili refers to a source which indicates the existence in the Divan Office of clerks paid by ′ulûfe as early as 1592–3 (op. cit. p. 48 n. 5).Google Scholar

^{page 341 note 1} My information on this point is incomplete. BBA, İrâde D 259 of 1255/1839–40 and D 1289 of 15 L 1256/1840 both mention this system. I have not been able to verify how long it had existed by that time.

^{page 341 note 2} BBA, Kal. Niz., pp. 18–19, regulations of Mektûbî Office, 1211/1797. This document was drawn up in an effort to reform the office. That the approach to organizational problems implicit in these terms was not novel, however, is clear from their similarity to the traditional terms for the supervisory officials, to be mentioned below.

^{page 341 note 3} İnalcik, , ‘Reis-ül-küttâb.’ İA, vol. 9, p. 674,Google Scholar gives the etymology from beylik. For the etymology from bitik, see Redhouse, , A Turkish and English Lexicon (Constantinople, 1921), s.v. bitik,Google Scholar and Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. p. 39 n. I.Google Scholar

^{page 342 note 1} TPK, D 3208; relevant section translated by Fekete, L., Die Siyâqat-Schrift in der türkischen Finanzverwaltung (Budapest, 1955), vol. 1, p. 68 n. 2. This description is, in a sense, ‘idealized.’ Simpler examples, including one which Fekete describes in his book and to which he refers in the note mentioned above can also be found.Google Scholar

^{page 342 note 2} On this point, see Fekete, L., Einführung in die osmanisch-türkische Diplomatik der türkischen Botmässigkeit in Ungarn (Budapest, 1926), pp. xxix-lxviii.Google Scholar

^{page 342 note 3} In discussing patterns of procedure, it is useful to make a distinction of ‘formalism’ and ‘functionalism’ as is done here. The appropriate adjectival forms are ‘formalistic’ and ‘functionalistic,’ and not, it must be emphasized, ‘formal’ and ‘functional.’ The purpose of this specification is to preclude objections about how the ‘formalistic’ was ‘functional’ in the traditional society. Below, we shall discuss ways in which the ‘formalistic’ patterns here described were, in fact, expressive of the nature of the traditional society and therefore ‘functional’ in it. Here, however, our purpose is merely to emphasize the distinctive nature of the conceptions of bureaucratic organization and procedure apparent in descriptive and regulatory documents.

^{page 343 note 1} D'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. 7 pp. 228–32.Google Scholar

^{page 344 note 1} It is worth noting that the ceremonies for the reception of ambassadors continued into the early nineteenth century to occur at the divan-meetings at the Palace and that one of their traditional purposes was to impress ambassadors with the splendor and power of the Sultan. In commenting on these receptions, Hammer, who knew from experience, approvingly described the court ceremonial of the Ottomans as unsurpassed in all of Europe and the Orient for pomp and splendor. On this point, he seconded the Ottoman adage: ′Mâl bi-Hindistân, ′akilbi-Frengistân, haşmet bi Âl-i ‘Osmân’– ‘Wealth is to be found in India, knowledge in Europe [to Muslims still the land of the Franks], and splendor in the House of ‘Osmân’ (op. cit. vol. 2, pp. 430–1).Google Scholar

^{page 344 note 2} Eisenstadt, Cf., op. cit. pp. 225–6, discussion of societies oriented toward maintenance of traditional culture patterns.Google Scholar

^{page 345 note 1} Norman, Itzkowitz, ‘Eighteenth Century Ottoman Realities’, Studia Islamica, vol. 16(1962), pp. 73–94.Google Scholar

^{page 345 note 2} TPK, D 3208. At this point, the document is referring clearly to admission into the Chief Accountants′ Office (Baş muhâsebe kalemi), one of the financial offices which were separate from the Porte.

^{page 345 note 3} BBA, Buy. no. I, entry of 3 CA 1240/1824.

^{page 345 note 4} It may be noted that a rü'us-warrant was apparently not required for admission into all government offices. TPK, D 3208, dating from the mid-eighteenth century, speaks in one place of the need for a r¨'us or a dîvân tezkeresî, as if the two were alternative, but indicates elsewhere that the latter was required to begin a career in the financial offices. Uzunçarşili, (op. cit. pp. 335–6) also speaks of the dîvân tezkeresî for the financial offices. In describing the conditions of service in a number of the more important offices, including those of the Mektübî-i sadr-i ′âlî and the Âmedî, TPK, D 3208, also implies that no such warrants were required in them (‘kalem-i mezbûrun defteri ve rü'usi olmayub…’). The exact functioning of the rü'us-system in this period will have to be verified from the records of the Rü'us Office itself. Sources now available do generally make clear, however, that in the Divan Office, the only bureau under the Reis Efendi in which careers were normally begun, a şâgirdlik rü'ust was essential for the beginner. See also, BBA, Rü'us defteri no. 217, ′ilm-ü-haber, entry of Et. RA 1180/1766, and BBA, Kal. Niz., p. 5, regulations of 1211/1797 for Divan Office. The term şâgirdlik rü'ust, finally, provides another indication of the confused state into which the official hierarchy had fallen in the old offices.Google Scholar

^{page 346 note 1} Itzkowitz, . op. cit. p. 93;Google ScholarUzunçarşili, cf., op. cit. pp. 50–1. Uzunçarşli's paraphrase of the text is faithful to the sense of the original passage in BBA, Kal. Niz., p. 5, regulations of 1211/1797 for Divan Office: ‘îşbû nizâm târîzinden îkî sene zitâmina dek… rü'us-I hümâyâyûn i'tâsuna müsâ'ade olunamiyacağî ifâde ve iş'âr olunmak ve târîh-i niz^mdan îkî sene tekmîlinde dâhî kâtib-zâdelerden mâ'adasina da on îkî neferden ziyâdesine müsâ'ade ôlunmamak üzere fakat âyda bir nefer şâgird alinmak…’ Uzunçarşili, following the original document, refers to the Tahvîl Office by the alternative name of Kese (or Kîse) kalemi, to the Beylik Office as the Dîvân kalemi.Google Scholar

^{page 346 note 2} Ergin, , op. cit. vol. 1, p. 53. His account of what he terms the ‘Bab-I âli mektebi’ (‘School of the Sublime Porte’) is vol. I, pp. 51−5. Cf. his discussion of alternative sources of education–in mosques, through intisâb to the learned, etc.–vol. 2, pp. 315−21.Google Scholar

^{page 347 note 1} On these teachers, retained at the Porte until 1250/1834–5, and on the difficulties of finding any other source from which to leam Persian, see Ahmed, Lütfî EfendiTârîh-i Lütfî (Istanbul, 1290–1328 [1873/4–1910]), vol. 4, pp. 115–16.Google Scholar

^{page 347 note 2} An excellent description of the intellectual tradition of the kâtib-class in Islam appears in İnalcik, , ‘Reis-ül-küttâb’, İA, vol. 9, pp. 677–9.Google Scholar

^{page 347 note 3} BBA, Buy. no. I, entry of CA 1240/1824: ‘Cümlenin ma'lûmî ôldîğî üzere fenn-i kitâbet tâ'ife-i sanâyî' ve bedâyîi'in esref ve akdemî ôlûb…’.

^{page 347 note 4} See sources cited in n. I p. 341.

^{page 348 note 1} TPK, D 3208, gives the fullest description I have seen of how this worked. This section appears to be somewhat anecdotal and to refer really to promotion within the financial offices, yet it contains nothing at variance with known references to compensation by ′ulûfe in the offices of the Reis Efendi. Cf., n. 4, p. 339 and n. I, p. 340.Google Scholar

^{page 348 note 2} For a fuller description of the system of inheritance, including explanation of what was to be done if there were more than one son, or if there was no son qualified to serve as a clerk (kitâbete muktedir), cf. document of Ş 1144/1732 quoted by Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. p.49 n. 5.Google Scholar

^{page 349 note 1} BBA, Kal. Niz., pp. 18–19, regulations of 1211/1797 for Mektûbî Office.Google Scholar

^{page 349 note 2} The Âmedî Office, the newest of those under the Reis Efendi, appears to have emerged at the head of this hypothetical hierarchy of offices only rather late. Itzkowitz, (op. cit. p. 88) mentions only the Mektûbî, and not the Âmedî, in discussing the cursus honorum prevalent during the first three-quarters of the eighteenth century. Regulations issued for the smedî Office in 1211/1797 say that traditionally only clerks who had already gained experience in other offices were appointed there, without either citing a restriction of recruitment to the Mektûbî Office in the past or prescribing one for the future (BBA, Kal. Niz., pp. 30−1,) That recruitment later became limited to the Mektûbî Office seems clear, however, from an irâde of 1261/1845, saying that thenceforth candidates should be taken not just from the Mektûbî; Office, but also from the Meclis-i vâ1â tahrîrât ôdâsî and the Dîvân-i hümâyûn mühimme ôdâsî (BBA, İrâde D 5475).Google Scholar

^{page 349 note 3} In describing the career of his father as a provincial tax official in Graz in the eighteenth century, Hammer mentions such similarities as initial service as an unpaid supernumerary and continuation of studies during the early years of employment. The elder Hammer's later loss of office as a result of intrigue and displeasure of the Kaiser parallels patterns more prominent in the higher Ottoman, bureaucracy (Erinnerungen aus meinem Leben, 1774–1852, ed. Reinhart, Bachofen von Echt [Vienna, 1940], pp. 5–17).Google Scholar Corruption, under-compensation, on-the-job training, lack of initiative or incentive were also prevalent in the nineteenth-century Russian bureaucracy (Raeff, M., ‘The Russian Autocracy and its Officials’, in Russian Thought and Politics, Harvard Slavic Studies, vol. 4 (1957), p. 81,Google Scholar as cited in Merle, Fainsod, ‘Bureaucracy and Modernization: The Russian and Soviet Case’, in Bureaucracy and Political Development, ed. Palombara, J. La [Princeton, 1963], p. 244).Google Scholar

^{page 350 note 1} As Gabriel Baer has pointed out, we must be careful about speaking of Islamic guilds as if they did not vary from place to place (Studies in the Social History of Modern Egypt [Chicago, 1969], p. 157).Google Scholar The same caveat also applies to comparisons made from period to period. Since we are discussing here the central bureaucracy as it existed in Istanbul in the late imperial period, we shall limit our discussion of the guilds as much as possible to patterns characteristic of that place and time. The best account for this purpose is that of Robert, Mantran, İstanbul dans la seconde moitié du XVIIe siècle (Paris, 1962), pp. 349–93.Google Scholar That similarly guild-like patterns could be found in bureaucratic institutions elsewhere in the Empire about the same time is, however, clear from Shaw, S. J., The Financial and Administrative Organization and Development of Ottoman Egypt, 1517–1798 (Princeton, 1962), pp. 345–8.Google Scholar

^{page 350 note 2} Mantran, , op. cit. pp. 353–7.Google Scholar

^{page 350 note 3} Ibid.. p. 356 n. 2; Necîb, cf.‘Âsim, ed., Evliyâ Çelebi Seyâhat-nâmesi (Istanbul, 1314/1896–7), pp. 511 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 350 note 4} Mehmet, Z. Pakalin, Osmanli Tarih Deyimleri ve Terimleri Sözlüğü (Istanbul, 1946–1953), s.v. ‘Rüus’.Google Scholar

^{page 350 note 5} Mantran, , op. cit. pp. 370, 373.Google Scholar

^{page 351 note 1} The relevance of these terms to both guild and bureaucracy stems from the fact that rü'us-warrants, on one hand, were issued for a wide variety of purposes, while the term gedik, on the other, had a variety of applications. As indicated above, rü'us-warrants were required not only for many bureaucratic appointments but also for the designation of the kâhya of a guild. As for the term gedik, basically meaning ‘breach’ and thence by extension ‘established place’ or ‘privilege’, its applications to the bureaucracy have already been discussed (nn. 2 and 3, p. 339). Just as the term could apparently refer to certain types of bureaucratic position, its primary meaning in respect of the guilds was the right of the master craftsman (usta) to have one of what was supposedly a limited number of shops allowed for his craft. From this usage, the term came to refer to a ‘sort of certificate of property’ (Mantran, , op. cit. 369) which could be bought and sold. As such, the gedik of the master craftsman is roughly the counterpart–even down to the element of venality– of the rü'us of the bureaucrat, while the gedik of the fief-holding scribe, as explained in n. 3, p. 339 represents a rather different use of the term.Google Scholar

^{page 351 note 2} To gain a sense of the parallelisms between the traditions of the guilds and the bureaucracy, we can best supplement Mantran, , op. cit.Google Scholar with Sabri, F. Ülgener, İktisadî İnhitat Tarihimizin Ahlâk ve Zihniyet Meseleleri (Istanbul, 1951), pp. 73 ff.Google Scholar The terms paralleling çtrak, kalfa, and usta in the old fütüvvet-groups were yiğit, aht, and seyh. The term hvâce had also traditionally been applicable in certain cases to merchants as well as bureaucrats. See Mantran, , op. cit. p. 466,Google Scholar citing Evliyâ, Çelebi, and İnalcik, H., ‘Bursa and the Commerce of the Levant’, Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient, vol. 3 (1960), pp. 533 ff.Google Scholar For similar use of the term in the Mamlûk Empire, see Ira, Lapidus, Muslim Cities in the Later Middle Ages (Cambridge, Mass., 1967), p. 128.Google Scholar

^{page 351 note 3} Ülgener, (op. cit. pp. 43–57) emphasizes a sort of transvaluation of the original fütüvvet-ethic over the centuries under the influence of the sûfî mentality.Google Scholar

^{page 352 note 1} The continuity of these abuses appears from the issue of repeated vezirial orders prohibiting them. Such orders of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century are to be found in BBA, Buy. no. 1, passim. The statement that one-fourth of the holders of ze'âmet-incomes in the Divan and smedî Offices were not coming to work appears in an entry of 23 N 1238/1823. The abuses associated with bureaucratic recruitment are the subject of particular comment in the regulatory documents (nizâm-nâme) of 1211/1797 issued for the Divan, Mektûbî, and Âmedî Offices and contained in BBA, Kal. Niz., pp. 4–6, 18–21. Persons of unknown background were generally ‘infiltrators’ sent from the staffs of provincial officials to provide the latter with covert sources of information on events in Istanbul which might affect their interests.

^{page 352 note 2} For a general discussion of this problem of goal-subversion in traditional political systems, see Eisenstadt, , op. cit. pp. 251–3,279 ff.Google Scholar For a discussion of how traditional patterns of organization tended more to encourage this displacement of goals than moden ones, see Michel, Crozier, Le phénomène bureaucratique (Paris, 1963), pp. 243–5. Crozier emphasizes the general impossibility of specialized or temporary commitment of the individual except in a context of contractual relations and the consequently greater need in traditional patterns to rely on coercive means, often supported by religious ideology, in order to maintain the conformity of the individual. Ritualism and goal-displacement followed rather naturally from these phenomena. To the examples of such organizations which Crozier mentions, including the House of Fugger, the Society of Jesus, and the Prussian Guard, the ‘slave’ -establishment of the Ottoman Empire, particularly as exemplified by the Janissary Corps in its classic state, could well be added.Google Scholar

^{page 352 note 3} Pakalin, , op. cit. s.v.Google Scholar ‘Rütbe’. There was also a rank of bas muhâsebeci (‘chief accountant’) which was sometimes given to other officials serving in important positions, such— rather strangely—as that of ambassador. For the abandonment of the custom of having numerous officials of vezirial rank, see Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. p. 191.Google Scholar

^{page 353 note 1} D'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. 7, pp. 159, 169–70, 191. The absence of the Âmedî; is presumably due to the relatively late emergence of his office.Google Scholar

^{page 353 note 2} Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. pp. 70, 156.Google Scholar

^{page 353 note 3} A register of 1233/1817–18 specifying the kinds and amounts of these rations (ta'yînât) to be given to various officials of the Porte can be found in Har., TKE 1151.

^{page 353 note 4} D'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. 7, pp. 182–3.Google Scholar

^{page 353 note 5} Accounts of how the chancery fees (harc) were distributed tend to indicate only that they went in varying fractions to the high officials (e.g. Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. p. 47,Google Scholar and İnalcik, , ‘Reis-ül-küttâb’, İA, vol. 9, p. 675).Google Scholar

^{page 354 note 1} D'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. 7, p. 199.Google Scholar

^{page 354 note 2} Ibid.. vol. 7, pp.182, 189.

^{page 354 note 3} Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. p. 157.Google Scholar

^{page 354 note 4} The gifts dispensed on behalf of the Sultan (’atîye-i senîye) have been mentioned in the text. As examples of gifts to the Sultan from leading officials, the Grand Vezir would present presents to the Sultan on occasions when the latter attended banquets at the Vezir's palace (Uzunçarşili, , op. cit. p. 175), while illness of the Sultan provided the occasion for what might be termed ‘get well gifts’ from the Grand Vezir and the Şeyhül-İslâmGoogle Scholar (Pakalin, , op. cit. s.v. ‘Geçmiş olsun hediyesi’).Google Scholar

^{page 355 note 1} D'Ohsson, , op. cit. vol. 7, p. 187;Google ScholarLevy, R., Cavid, Baysun, ‘Musâdere’, İA, vol. 8, pp. 669–73.Google Scholar

^{page 355 note 2} Eisenstadt, , op. cit. pp. 233–4, on ‘direct petitioning or clique activities’ as basic types of political behavior in culturally oriented polities.Google Scholar

^{page 355 note 3} Ülgener, , op. cit. ch. ii, especially pp. 152 ff. and 170 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 355 note 4} Ibid. pp. 96–102.