Şeyh Murad Complex in Eyüp Sultan

In the Nişanca quarter of Eyüp, with its rich historical identity, its varied spaces, its hazira (graveyard) filled with richly ornamented tombstones, the old neighborhood school and wooden houses around it, and, right beside it, the Nişancı Mustafa Paşa Mosque , a work of Sinan , there stands a «dergâh» (dervish lodge) overlooking the small square where streets that strive to preserve their old character intersect: the Şeyh Murad Efendi Dergâh…

It is a Tulip Era building commissioned by Şeyhülislâm Dâmad-zâde Ahmed Efendi (died: AH 1154, AD 1741)[1] in the name of Şeyh Murad Efendi of Bukhara[2] as a madrasa or dârü’l-mesnevî (school of the Masnavi). Its inscription, which is no longer in place, was dated AH 1127 (AD 1715). After the death of Şeyh Murad Efendi, this dergâh functioned as a Naqshbandi zawiya and a Hamzavî-Melâmî tekke; in the time of the head of the sheikhs, Hâfız Feyzullah Efendi (died: AH 1284, AD 1867), it served as the «meşihat makâmı», the office that appointed sheikhs to other tekkes and zawiyas, and became a kind of «specialized university» of its time. The külliye (complex) consists of a masjid, a semâhâne (ritual hall), a türbe (tomb) and a madrasa, together with the selâmlık and harem buildings, which have been demolished. The şadırvan (ablution fountain) and the fountain of the tekke no longer exist today. The Kırkçeşme water[3] supply line, which passes through the garden of the dergâh, feeds nine historic fountains that we were able to count in the vicinity.

In the hazira of the dergâh lie the ta‘lîk calligrapher Şeyhülislâm Veliyyüddin Efendi[4] (died: AH 1182, AD 1768-69), who followed the İmad school in the art of calligraphy and whose books form an important part of today’s Süleymaniye Library; one of the masters of classical Turkish music, Hüseynü’l-Hisârî (died: AH 1236, AD 1821); the legal scholar Muhammed Gedûsî  (died: AH 1253, AD 1837); one of our great calligraphers, Esmâ İbret Hanım (born: AH 1194, AD 1780); the librarian of the Mühendishâne-i Berrî-i Hümâyûn[5] (Imperial School of Military Engineering), Fethi Efendi (died: AH 1277, AD 1860); one of the calligraphers of the same school, Sadullah Efendi (died: AH 1264, AD 1847); the author of the İzzî History, calligrapher and court chronicler İzzî Efendi (died: AH 1168, AD 1755); the author of the work Yenâbî‘ul-Mevedde, Seyyid Süleyman Belhî (died: AH 1294, AD 1877); and one of the last sheikhs of the dergâh, Seyyid Abdülkaadir Belhî[6] (died: AH 1341, AD 1922), whom Orientalists came to visit in order to meet him and who produced the longest Sufi works in verse after Mevlânâ; together with other persons who hold important places in our cultural history.

The Hamzavî-Melâmî, simidî, kâtibî and örfî kavuks (turbans), fezzes of various periods, women’s tombstones with hotoz headdresses, and Qadiri and Naqshi crowns in the hazira each have the character of a historical document of distinct value.

It is said that the dergâh was open night and day, 365 days a year, to people of every disposition, that it had a broad and far-reaching system of contemplation, and that it pioneered the innovations of its time. One of the three bicycles that came to Turkey for the first time, which bigotry denounced as the «devil’s carriage», was brought into the dergâh. A communication system powered by a Leclanché battery was installed between the selâmlık and harem buildings. As for its garden, it was another world altogether…

«.. the beautiful and delicate scents spread all around by the gently blowing breeze from the roses, carnations and violets and the blossoms of all kinds of trees that adorned the courtyard like paradise, and on the other side, the sounds made by the waters, like mercy, pouring from the şadırvan reminiscent of the Salsabil of Paradise…» .. and gazelles wandering freely…

Alas, now in this «museum without walls» that has turned into a ruin, you see only the disrespect of the indifferent people of our day towards the past.

Today the phenomenon of «rapid urbanization», which seems to have taken it upon itself to destroy historic urban fabrics, has irreparably eaten away at this environment as well. The doors, walls and porticoes of this dergâh, whose porticoes until only yesterday had been walled up with breeze blocks, whose madrasa cells had been occupied, in whose garden a host of squatter houses had been built and into whose hazira sewage pipes had been discharged, now lie in ruins. Who knows when and to which scrap dealer the bronze rings on the column capitals were sold? The wooden harem and selâmlık buildings were destroyed down to the last splinter by local residents as recently as 1977 to obtain firewood for the winter. Now neither their foundations can be made out nor does any trace remain. In the garden neither the şadırvan nor the roses remain.. The madrasa rooms have become a home to drug addicts, the walls to spiders. In the domes that once resounded with the stirring sounds of the ney, not even an owl hoots now. If you stir the earth in front of the hearths in the rooms, you will find narcotic drugs and morphine ampoules. Many of the beautiful tombstones, each an exquisite work of art, have been used in nearby construction; and most of those that somehow survived are broken. In place of the roses that, in the rose garden  of its time, exemplified our refined taste, in today’s wasteland of ruins «dirty laundry» has become the flag of our indifference…

«Even the infidel weeps at our wretched state…» I think that not even the world wars inflicted the destruction that we ourselves have inflicted on our culture and our architectural heritage.

The issue is not limited to the sorry present state of any one building. The real issue lies in the «mentality» we have in this regard. The Council for Cultural Co-operation of Europe takes decisions at ministerial level and organizes symposia, an «architectural heritage year» is proclaimed; every institution, above all the Directorate of Foundations, universities and academies, tries to do something with its limited means; yet no result that could be put to use as a «value» through the dialogue to be established is achieved. The same is true of the restorations carried out by the Directorate of Foundations with its limited funds.

Indeed, the restoration that began at the Şeyh Murad Külliye after years of bureaucracy, and that is progressing very slowly, will perhaps keep the külliye standing for a few more years. But restoration of a worn-out building must be carried out according to the function it is to perform today. To complete the rough repairs and then leave the building to its fate means turning a blind eye to its falling into ruin once again. Consequently, it may be necessary to reconsider the legal status of buildings of this type. The situation of the Şeyhülislam Mustafa Efendi Tekke, also in the Nişanca quarter of Eyüp, is the most vivid example in this respect. The building, renewed down to its stained-glass windows, fell into ruin again in the hands of squatters after the repair work was finished, and the effort and money spent were wasted.

Are we not the grandchildren of those who gave examples of refinement and elegance in architecture, of rich expression and depth of meaning in literature and music, of patience and nobility in calligraphy and decoration, and of grandeur within simplicity in every branch of art? When will we realize the value of the cultural heritage we have inherited? After all of it has slipped from our hands one by one?.. Or will we one day learn our culture from the engravings of European painters and from photographs kept as souvenirs?..

Existing buildings must be put to good use by establishing a balance between the dynamic change of society and culture and the static spatial value of buildings. Buildings of historical and architectural value that have lost the purpose for which they were built must be given new forms of use within their natural and aesthetic surroundings. The preservation of this heritage also means the preservation of an existing economic value.

A project is being prepared by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism to turn the Eyüp Sultan Mosque and its külliye into a «World Islamic Culture and Pilgrimage Center». It has been decided that the financing of this undertaking will be met from the 1982 budget. It is envisaged that the traffic flow in and around Eyüp Sultan will be reconsidered, that motor vehicles will not be allowed into the area and that new pedestrian ways will be created. According to the project being prepared, haphazard buildings that spoil the historic fabric will be expropriated and green areas will be created. Considering the name of the project, the other historic monuments in the vicinity, most of which have been repaired, above all the tombs of the Companions of the Prophet, and including the Şeyh Murad Külliye, the Cafer Paşa Madrasa, the Şeyhülislâm Mustafa Efendi Mosque and Tekke, the Şeyh Şemsüddin Sivâsî Tekke and the Baba Haydar Mosque, must not be overlooked. Incorporating such buildings into the «Eyüp Sultan Project» and the pilgrimage route will not require a large-scale investment either.

The Şeyh Murad Dergâh , too, is an interesting ensemble that, with all its outbuildings and the functional grouping of its structures, displays the full character of a <tekke>. The külliye could be considered for use, as part of the «Eyüp Project» being prepared, as a cultural center that would also serve tourism, where temporary and permanent exhibitions are organized, courses in our classical arts such as music, calligraphy, illumination, ebru (paper marbling), bookbinding, woodcarving and prayer-bead making are offered, and concerts and lectures are given. It is possible to provide the organization in these spaces for our handicrafts, which, although they have a good many enthusiasts and practitioners, are on the verge of being forgotten merely for lack of organization, while at the same time rescuing a forgotten group of buildings. The külliye could be restored for this function in keeping with today’s understanding of space. On the large plot behind the dergâh and the demolished harem building, a multi-purpose example of the lost has bahçe (imperial garden) and Turkish garden art, with various functions, could be created.

The garden is «an indivisible element within the essential fabric» of Ottoman civilization and especially of its architecture. Considering that the formal garden in Europe and the English romantic garden layout are still preserved, the absence of a single such example from a nation that «takes almost all of its ornament from flowers», that embroiders and grafts pattern upon pattern, from its fabrics to its ebru, from its stone to its soil, and that lives intertwined with nature, is a great shortcoming from the historical, cultural and touristic points of view. Old Turkish gardens are not gardens that imitate nature. Like old Turkish architecture, they reflect an understanding on a human scale, a product of taste and feeling, «attaching importance to logic and usefulness rather than ornament».

Taking into account the unbearable atmosphere of Eyüp, this group of buildings, located further inland and on higher ground, could be put to use as a culture and tourism center with a museum, library, private study rooms, meeting hall, restaurant and Turkish garden, so as to achieve, along the line extending to Eyüp through a chain of buildings and streets that preserve their old identity, a synthesis adapting historical culture to today’s understanding . Istanbul, today as in the Byzantine and Ottoman periods, is a city of metropolitan character that has been one of the world’s foremost centers of culture and art. Yet today, unfortunately, we do not have such a cultural center, not only in Istanbul but in the whole of Anatolia.

One of the most important causes of backwardness is the rejection of the historical heritage and the severing of cultural ties with the past. Consequently, preserving this type of architectural heritage and giving it a function, which could also help keep alive our classical arts that are on the verge of disappearing,  is important from both an economic and a spiritual point of view. In other words, to take ownership of our cultural values is our historical and moral duty.

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