On
May 29, 1453, after two months of continuous cannon fire, the massive
triple walls that had protected Constantinople for nearly a millennium
finally crumbled. The victorious Turkish invaders fought their way
through the breach, and many rushed down the central avenue to the
city’s legendary cathedral, Hagia Sophia. Breaking through the massive,
ornate doors, they found hundreds of frightened people inside—the last
remnant of a once vast Christian empire. According to legend, as the
conquerors were rounding up their captives a lone priest was offering
Mass at Hagia Sophia’s high altar. Suddenly, a glowing door appeared in
the wall and the priest, still clutching the consecrated Host, walked
through it. The opening vanished. It is said that when Hagia Sophia is
returned to Christian worship that door will reappear, and the priest
will return to finish the Mass.
Based on the events of this past week, there is little chance of
luminous doors appearing soon. On July 10, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan,
president of Turkey, declared Hagia Sophia to be a mosque. It joins more
than three thousand other mosques in Istanbul, many of them also former
Christian churches. But Hagia Sophia is different, which explains why
the world has strongly condemned the decision.
There is just nothing like Hagia Sophia. It has inspired awe since it
was completed in 532. Emperor Justinian I, who paid 320,000 pounds of
gold for the project, was so astonished when he first entered the great
church that he is said to have exclaimed, “Solomon, I have outdone you!”
The central dome, 180 feet high and a little over 100 feet in diameter,
was the largest in the world for nearly a thousand years. It was only
surpassed by the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica in the sixteenth
century. Ringed by windows that welcome sunlight into the stone
interior, the dome (as the historian Procopius noted) gives the
impression that it is suspended from heaven by a golden chain. In size
and majesty, Hagia Sophia outstripped every other building, just as
Constantinople outshone every other city in the western world. Hagia
Sophia became the mother church of eastern Christianity, the seat of the
Patriarch of Constantinople for nearly a thousand years.
When Sultan Mehmed II conquered Constantinople in 1453, he
transformed the cathedral into the sultan’s imperial mosque. All crosses
in the temple were broken, and all images either destroyed or plastered
over. The altar and other ecclesiastical architecture were removed,
prayer carpets were spread across the rich marble floor, and a mihrab (a
niche indicating the direction of Mecca) was placed at the site of the
old high altar. Mehmed built one minaret outside Hagia Sophia, although
later sultans added another three. It would remain the imperial mosque
until the end of the sultanate in 1922.
Hagia Sophia’s transformation into a museum in the 1930s was in large
part due to an American socialite and fundraiser, Thomas Whittemore.
With support from Mildred and Robert Woods Bliss of Dumbarton Oaks in
Washington, D.C., Whittemore obtained permission from the Turkish
government to uncover and restore the medieval mosaics of Hagia Sophia.
Beautiful depictions of Christ, the Virgin, saints, and emperors arose
gloriously from their centuries-old plaster prisons. Armed with cameras
and a good head for publicity, Whittemore brought the sublime images of
forgotten Constantinople to an astonished world.
President Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, the father of modern Turkey, took a
keen interest in these discoveries. Atatürk was determined to modernize
Turkey, bringing it out of its medieval past. That meant, among other
things, distancing the new Republic of Turkey from the old Ottoman
Empire. He had already moved the capital from imperial Constantinople,
and even changed the name of the city to Istanbul. He had also opened
Topkapi Palace to tourists. Transforming the sultans’ old mosque into a
museum fit perfectly into that program. In 1934 the Turkish Council of
Ministers declared Hagia Sophia to be no longer a mosque, but “a unique
architectural monument of art.” And so it remained, until last week.
Some have suggested that the decision to make Hagia Sophia a mosque
fits with the statue toppling and cancel culture in the U.S. and Europe.
But it is really just a political move. As his popularity among
moderates and progressives has faltered, President Erdoğan has become
increasingly reliant on rural Islamic conservatives to keep him in
power. They have always cherished hopes of reverting Hagia Sophia to a
mosque, as they believe Atatürk’s reforms betrayed Islam in a bid for
Western acceptance. In the most recent elections, Erdoğan lost the
majority in Istanbul. So this decision, loved in the countryside but
hated by progressives in the big city, both rewards the president’s
supporters and punishes his enemies.
There is no place in the world that I love more than Hagia Sophia.
But I am still surprised by the attention this decision has received. I
suspect that Erdoğan is too. Nevertheless, he has deftly turned the
foreign condemnations into an opportunity to wrap himself in Turkish
nationalism, insisting that the building belongs to Turks and they can
do with it what they wish. On Sunday, Pope Francis remarked, “I think of
Hagia Sophia and I am very saddened.” This earned a quick rebuke from a
spokesman for Turkey’s governing Justice and Development Party (AK
Party), who retorted that the greatest crime against Hagia Sophia had
been committed by the “Latin invasion” when the papally-led Crusaders
pillaged the church. This is a reference to the Fourth Crusade
(1201-1204), which sailed to Constantinople and captured the city. To be
fair, Pope Innocent III did not direct the Crusade to Constantinople.
Indeed, he explicitly forbade it to go there and excommunicated many of
the Crusaders when they disobeyed that command. And, while it is true
that the Crusaders pillaged Hagia Sophia in 1204, they also maintained
it for the next five decades as a flourishing church. They even repaired
the dome when a portion of it collapsed.
It is not yet clear how this change will affect the millions who
visit Hagia Sophia each year. Erdoğan’s office has said that none of the
Byzantine artwork will be harmed, although it will be hidden during
Muslim prayers by curtains or lasers. Like all mosques, there will no
longer be an admission charge to visit. But will carpets cover the
ancient marble floor? Will access be restricted to specific areas? Will
women have to cover their heads and legs as they do at the nearby Blue
Mosque (Sultanahmet)?
Like all buildings of such age, the history of Hagia Sophia is
complicated. For nine centuries it was a church, for nearly five
centuries a mosque, and for almost one century a museum. It has been the
site of unparalleled beauty and unspeakable horrors. The history of the
West is bound up in that remarkable building. It should not be reduced
to a pawn in a political campaign. Hagia Sophia should no more be a
mosque than the Parthenon should be restored to the worship of Athena.
These are shared historical monuments, where people of diverse
backgrounds can see our common human experience. The world has plenty of
churches and mosques. Let Hagia Sophia be Hagia Sophia.
Thomas F. Madden is Professor of History and Director of the
Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies at Saint Louis University.
He is the author of Istanbul: City of Majesty at the Crossroads of the World.
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