Introduction
The extensive reform program of the nineteenth century, driven by the Ottoman state’s urgent need to modernise its institutions and consolidate authority, generated a new breed of intellectuals and bureaucrats who navigated the tensions between tradition and modernity. As the empire faced mounting financial pressures and administrative fragmentation, the state sought to centralise control over religious and charitable institutions, viewing them as both potential allies and obstacles to reform. Amidst this drive for centralisation, the restructuring of evkāf (religious endowments) and the establishment of the Consulate of Sheikhs (Meclis-i Meşāyiḥ) in 1866 placed Sufi orders under tighter administrative and financial supervision, redefining their institutional role within the Ottoman state. No longer able to operate with the same level of autonomy, many Sufi communities found themselves compelled to adapt to new state-imposed mandates, engaging in projects and administrative functions that had previously been unthinkable.Footnote 1 Sufi figures, now finding themselves within the corridors of a rapidly modernising bureaucracy, adapted, redefined, and even challenged their place in the Ottoman state.Footnote 2 Branded by reformers as relics of idleness, they nonetheless infiltrated new departments, straddling the worlds of religious tradition and state service.Footnote 3 By the Hamidian reign (1876–1909) and the Young Turk era (1908–1923, also known as the Second Constitutional Period led by the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP)), these figures did more than merely adapt to the shifting political and ideological landscape.Footnote 4 Far from passive subjects, they challenged reformists by engaging directly with the reform process—questioning its premises, critiquing its implementation, and, at times, even driving certain reform efforts forward in ways that blurred the lines between resistance and collaboration.Footnote 5 With a resolve as fierce as the currents of change they navigated, they staked their claim on the unfolding narrative of Ottoman modernisation.
This group of actors, destined to be remembered as Sufi bureaucrats, reveals the intricate ways in which they navigated state reforms—whether through active reconciliation, adaptive responses, or, at times, strategic compromise. Educated within both modern secular institutions and traditional Sufi lodges, Sufis working as officials in the bureaucratic system, engaged in the sociocultural dynamics of their time and actively contributed to shaping it.Footnote 6 This engagement reflects the broader Ottoman principles of dīn-u-devlet (religion and state) and ūlū’l-emre itaat (obedience to authority)Footnote 7—ideals that shaped both state policy and Sufi perspectives on governance. While these principles fostered a supportive framework for reform, they also provided a basis for nuanced responses that ranged from active engagement to more cautious adaptation.Footnote 8 In exploring the distinct ways in which Sufi bureaucrats such as İzbudak engaged with reform, this article seeks to uncover the delicate intersections of religious ethos and state allegiance, presenting a portrait of Sufi officials as agents of continuity and subtle transformation within a rapidly changing Ottoman order.
Amid the shifting and transformative currents of the late Ottoman empire, Veled Çelebi İzbudak (d. 1953) emerged as a striking figure who seamlessly embodied the dual identity of a Mevlevi sheikh and an Ottoman bureaucrat. Far from conforming to reductive narratives that cast Sufi communities as either resistant to or subsumed by reform, İzbudak exemplified the intricate role of Sufi bureaucrats who navigated the intersections of religious institutions, cultural production, and state governance.Footnote 9 His trajectory—from an influential Mevlevi pūstnişīn (head sheikh) to a staunch supporter of the transitional policies from empire to republic, including his advocacy for cultural nationalism and early republican cultural reforms—illustrates the adaptive strategies employed by Sufi intellectuals to navigate an era of profound transformation.Footnote 10
Born in 1867 as Mehmed Bahaeddin in Konya during the reign of Sultan ‘Abd al-‘Azīz (r. 1861–1876),Footnote 11 İzbudak was deeply rooted in the religious legacy of the Mevleviyye Sufi order—an Islamic religious tradition centred on the teachings of Mevlānā Celāladdīn Rūmī (d. 672/1273), which not only emphasised the transformative power of love, music, and remembrance (dhikr) in the journey toward divine unity, but also evolved into a court order that was deeply intertwined with Ottoman imperial culture.Footnote 12 Patronised by sultans and the elite, the Mevleviyye order became a vital source of artistic, literary, and intellectual production, positioning itself as a bridge between religious doctrine and the cultural aspirations of the Ottoman state.Footnote 13 Tracing his lineage to Rūmī through both maternal and paternal lines, Veled Çelebi was honoured with the title Çelebi—a designation symbolising both a hereditary connection and an enduring religious authority within the Mevlevi tradition.Footnote 14 Immersed in Mevlevi teachings from an early age, İzbudak received an education that combined the structured curriculum of the medrese, shaped by sultanic directives, with the more flexible intellectual environment of the lodge.Footnote 15 He attended Mekteb-i Rüşdiye, an Ottoman state middle school, and the Sultan Veled Medrese, where he developed, mostly by his own efforts, a strong command of Persian, Arabic, poetry, and literature—skills that would later inform his linguistic and scholarly pursuits.Footnote 16
This dual immersion in Sufi and formal Ottoman education shaped İzbudak’s intellectual and religious identity, laying the foundation for his later roles in state administration and cultural reform. These formative experiences, set against the backdrop of the empire’s ambitious reform efforts, endowed him with a uniquely integrative perspective—one that bridged tradition and modernity, religious devotion, and administrative pragmatism.Footnote 17 This outlook would define his contributions to the evolving discourse on cultural identity and the Turkish language, situating him as a key figure in the Ottoman empire’s transition into the early republic. As a unique product of his generation, he occupies a distinctive position shaped by the ideological currents of the Young Turk era (1908–1918), yet he remains singular within this milieu. İzbudak, preserving his Sufi identity alongside his nationalist vision, embodied a form of ‘unbelonging’ through his ambivalent relationship with both traditional Mevlevi circles and the modernising forces in Ottoman society, reflecting a complex alignment with the Ottoman state’s nationalist goals while maintaining a distinct religious and intellectual heritage.Footnote 18 As a figure not easily categorised and scarcely addressed in late Ottoman historiography, İzbudak has often been studied in limited scope, with attention largely on his Sufi identity, in the typical ‘great man’ narrative of traditional Turkish historiography; without thorough archival engagementFootnote 19 or his linguistic and nationalist pursuits, his responses to reformist policies still warrant deeper analysis.Footnote 20
This study seeks to critically re-evaluate the unbelonging status of Veled Çelebi İzbudak by exploring the multiple affiliations and fluid identities of Ottoman Sufi bureaucrat figures during the late Ottoman and early republican periods. As a multifaceted figure who was navigating the ideological tensions of his era, İzbudak engaged not in opposition, but in a productive intellectual dialogue with the shifting dynamics of his time. By situating him within the historical context that shaped his intellectual development, this analysis examines his complex roles as a Sufi, a bureaucrat, and a key contributor to Turkish linguistic reforms, highlighting his contributions across diverse spheres.Footnote 21
The present research, therefore, poses critical questions about the integration and contributions of Sufi bureaucrats within Ottoman and Republican reform contexts: How did figures such as İzbudak reconcile their religious commitments with state-driven initiatives? In what ways did their intellectual production—particularly İzbudak’s advocacy for linguistic preservation and reform—serve as a response to the emerging nationalist and secularist ideologies? How did the mindset underlying this pro-reform approach and its perceived benefits operate? By tracing his involvement across key reforms, such as the dissolution of the dervish lodges and the language-reform efforts, the study argues that İzbudak embodied an adaptive strategy that balanced his reverence for Ottoman legacies with his engagement in modern Turkish cultural identity projects. Extensively benefiting from İzbudak’s memoirs, correspondence, official records, and published works, this article demonstrates that İzbudak’s legacy resides not only in his contributions to Turkish linguistic and cultural discourse, but also in his embodiment of the transformative forces that defined his era, offering fresh perspectives on the strategic responses of Sufi actors amid the evolving dynamics of state modernisation and secular governance.
From the provinces to the capital: the making of a Sufi bureaucrat in the late Ottoman empire
In the late Ottoman era, comprehensive reforms transformed state institutions and societal norms, significantly impacting Sufi orders—longstanding beacons of continuity and religious authority. These reforms, initiated by the establishment of the Imperial Ministry of Foundations (Evkāf-ı Hümāyūn Neẓāreti)Footnote 22 and the abolition of the Bektāshiyya Sufi order,Footnote 23 systematically reduced the autonomy of Sufi lodges and increased governmental oversight, notably through the establishment of the Assembly of Sheikhs (Meclis-i Meşāyiḥ) in 1866.Footnote 24 This shift from hereditary leadership to state-mandated examinations and formal registrations required Sufi leaders to adeptly balance their public responsibilities with their religious duties under increasingly regulated conditions. This changing regulatory environment influenced İzbudak’s decision to enter civil service. With limited advancement opportunities within the Mevleviyye Sufi order and apparently guided by his mother’s advice to pursue state education over religious training, İzbudak gravitated towards the newly available bureaucratic roles.Footnote 25 Public esteem for governmental positions likely facilitated his acceptance into these prestigious circles, while the rare opportunities to ascend directly to a sheikh position at the Konya Sufi Lodge—the Grand Lodge for the order (Āsitāne) within the hierarchy of the Mevleviyye order—made his bureaucratic path seem not only strategic, but almost obligatory.
İzbudak’s educational journey exemplifies the essence of self-directed learning, deeply rooted in the intellectual currents of late Ottoman Konya. His early years at a local school were followed by formal education at a rüşdiye—a state-run secondary school introduced during the Tanzimat reforms to provide a modern curriculum alongside traditional Islamic subjects—yet it was his self-motivated transition to a medrese that marked a pivotal turn in his academic pursuits.Footnote 26 He conveys educational experiences that led him to transition from rüşdiye to medrese as follows:
When I enrolled in the Mekteb-i Rüşdiye, it felt as if I had entered paradise from hell. Compared to the iptidai (elementary) school, it was much more orderly (pek intizamlı) and relatively clean; the children were somewhat disciplined (ıslah edilmiş), the teaching methods were more reasonable, and the teachers were more like actual human beings (insana benziyordu). They seated me at the very beginning of a row. During lesson time, we would form a circle in front of the teacher and recite Emsile (basic Arabic grammar exercises). However, this privilege from the teacher exposed me to the malice of mischievous and envious students. Some of them tormented me greatly. This situation lasted for two years. Day by day, I grew weary of these unpleasant experiences. In those two years, my education remained far below what my abilities (istidat) and diligence (çalışkanlığıma) should have allowed. I realized that my time was being wasted. I went to my father and pleaded, ‘Please send me to a medrese!’ My father then enrolled me in the Sultan Veled Medrese, which was adjacent to the Dergāh-ı Mevlānā.Footnote 27
Veled Çelebi İzbudak’s years at the Sultan Veled Medrese were marked by intellectual self-determination and a deep awareness of the shortcomings of traditional education. Over six years at the Sultan Veled Medrese, he felt confined in an educational system that failed to provide him with the structured learning he sought, leading him to take charge of his own intellectual development. The standard medrese curriculum of the time emphasised classical Islamic sciences, with a strong focus on grammar (sarf and nahiv), logic (mantık), and religious jurisprudence (fıkıh).Footnote 28 However, İzbudak’s own account suggests that this rigid structure often failed to cultivate real intellectual engagement. İzbudak’s critical stance toward his instructors and the rigid teaching methods of the medrese reveals a student who was both independent and proactive. Reflecting on his formal training, he remarked with disappointment:
During these six years, I learned almost nothing in Arabic. I barely managed to grasp some classifications of words, a little bit of grammar, and a few lexical terms. The reason for this was the utterly unsuitable methods of instruction and the fact that most of my teachers were ignorant of both scholarship and pedagogical principles.Footnote 29
Rather than accepting these limitations, İzbudak sought out alternative avenues for learning. He took private lessons from a tutor who introduced him to Persian through foundational texts such as Pend-i Attar and Gülistan by Saʿdī-i Shīrāzī (d. 691/1292). However, even here, he soon outpaced his formal instruction, choosing to study independently:
I read some Persian grammar and parts of Gülistan with my teacher. But halfway through the book, I stopped attending his lessons because I had already grasped the language and was enjoying the texts I read. I continued reading Gülistan on my own, using Sadi’s commentary for guidance. Soon, I found that I could understand the verses and passages without any commentary at all. I decided not to abandon Persian and took it further. Meanwhile, I also began to understand Arabic when I studied Muhtasar under the Müftü of our town, Hacı Hüseyin Efendi, along with over three hundred students in the Şerefeddin Mosque.Footnote 30
This self-directed approach extended beyond language acquisition. İzbudak’s passion for reading led him to texts that were rarely emphasised in the medrese curriculum. He found immense pleasure in theological and jurisprudential commentaries such as Şerh-i Şir’a-i by Seyyid ʿAlīzāde (d. ?); Yāsin Ḥamāmiyesi, Hadīs-i Erbaīn Şerhi, and Seb’iyyāt books that provided insights into Hadith studies, Islamic jurisprudence, and commentary traditions.Footnote 31 However, his reflections on the general reading culture within the medrese environment reveal his frustration with its mechanical and uninspired approach to education:
At the time, studying was nothing more than endlessly repeating syntax and grammar books without understanding them, memorizing intricate grammatical rules like a songbird, and enduring the teacher’s beatings to escape punishment. Instead of a comfortable life at home, we were confined to the medrese, forced into monotonous recitations, only to grow tired and eventually abandon our studies. Yet Arabic was, in reality, a language just like our own! Just as we had books in Turkish, there were books in Arabic on every imaginable topic. Some of them contained stories, jokes, and entertaining anecdotes. When I first encountered el-Keşkul,Footnote 32 I was astonished—what a delightful book! But I could not understand more than half of it.Footnote 33
This realisation—that Arabic literature was not merely a tool for rote religious study, but a language rich with varied and engaging content—was a turning point for İzbudak. His intellectual background was shaped not only by formal study, but also by his determination to read widely and independently. He developed a scholarly curiosity that extended beyond the standard medrese curriculum, recognising the potential for language to serve as both a cultural and an intellectual bridge.
İzbudak’s intellectual pursuits extended beyond formal education, as he actively immersed himself in the Mevlevi Sufi milieu, in which religious discussions and poetic exercises became an integral part of his learning. As the Sultan Veled Medrese was an extension of the Mevlevi lodge in Konya situated in the surroundings of Mevlānā’s tomb, he spent much of his free time engaging in communal prayers, ism-i celāl recitations, mukabele ceremonies, and the reading of the Mesnevi.Footnote 34 Reflecting on this period, he recalled how his daily routine was intertwined with the spiritual and intellectual life of the lodge.Footnote 35 He took every opportunity to sit in the gatherings of visiting scholars and sheikhs, absorbing their teachings and perspectives. This fusion of structured and experiential learning not only honed his linguistic and literary sensibilities, but also deepened his cultural and spiritual engagement with Turkish literary heritage. These experiences ultimately shaped his future trajectory, preparing him for leadership roles within both the Sufi order and the Ottoman bureaucratic sphere.Footnote 36
While Ottoman medrese and tekke education often overlapped in content, with many Sufi lodges offering instruction in the same Islamic sciences taught in formal medreses, their institutional frameworks diverged in ways that shaped intellectual trajectories differently. Medreses operated under sultanic decrees that dictated their curriculum, which standardised the subjects and progression of study across the empire.Footnote 37 This level of state oversight was far less pronounced in Sufi lodges, where education—particularly in the Mevlevi tradition—incorporated philosophical, literary, and mystical disciplines that extended beyond the formalist legal and theological training of medreses.Footnote 38 İzbudak’s intellectual development unfolded within both spaces: while he was rigorously trained in medrese disciplines, his Mevlevi education exposed him to a more eclectic intellectual milieu—one that fostered an engagement with language, poetry, and historical inquiry in ways not always emphasised in the medrese system. His linguistic scholarship, lexicographic efforts, and interest in reformist thought reflect this dual intellectual inheritance, demonstrating how the Mevlevi lodge functioned not merely as a site of mystical training, but also as an autonomous centre of knowledge production that operated in parallel, rather than in strict opposition, to the state-regulated medrese system.
İzbudak entered the civil service in 1885 as a kātib (scribe) in the Konya Vilāyet Mektūbī Ḳalemi (Provincial Secretariat).Footnote 39 His position afforded him proximity to the administrative machinery of the Ottoman state, yet required an adaptation to roles that stretched well beyond his Mevlevi roots. Under the mentorship of Nāẓım Bey (d. 1926)Footnote 40—the chief secretary of Konya (vilāyet mektupçusu) and a notable figure in the region’s administration—İzbudak refined his bureaucratic skills, ultimately ascending to the role of chief editor (baş muḥarrir) for the Vilāyet Gazetesi (Provincial Newspaper). His role in the newspaper extended his influence, enabling him to contribute to public discourse and disseminate the values of both his Mevlevi heritage and the Ottoman state. Later, İzbudak re-entered his own school, Mekteb-i Rüşdiye, this time as an instructor, imparting his expertise in Ottoman Turkish paleography and Persian.Footnote 41
Upon joining the scribal cadres, İzbudak’s decision to adopt the frock coat and fez (the standardised attire of Ottoman officials) marked a visible departure from the traditional Mevlevi garments, particularly the sikke (a type of conical cap)—a choice that resonated far beyond his personal wardrobe.Footnote 42 In the eyes of his Mevlevi peers, this sartorial shift was more than symbolic; it was a sign of compliance to state demands and, to some, a betrayal of the Sufi way. ‘Those envious of me (ḥasūdlarım),’Footnote 43 İzbudak writes in his memoir, ‘concern themselves with my coat as if such garments bear on one’s devotion or fidelity.’ While he affirmed the importance of traditional Sufi dress in ceremonies, he remarked: ‘Wearing such garments does not increase one’s virtue, nor does taking them off make one less of a dervish.’Footnote 44 His tone is unwavering, countering that ‘to hold one’s heart fixed on God is what makes a dervish’, not the fabric draped over one’s shoulders.Footnote 45 This stance, while pragmatic, speaks to the profound cultural dissonance of the late Ottoman period, when the trappings of modernity demanded allegiance to a new visual order. For İzbudak, navigating this new social sphere meant defending his choices against accusations of abandoning his religious roots. Disapproval from his Mevlevi peers extended even to his mannerisms, with remarks such as ‘He goes to restaurants now, amazed at his newfound wealth; he became a bureaucrat and acts as if he doesn’t know us’,Footnote 46 reflecting their discontent over his changing lifestyle and perceived distance. Tensions were further strained by İzbudak’s close ties with the provincial governor, which conflicted with ‘Abdulvaḥīd Çelebi Efendi (d. 1907),Footnote 47 head of the Konya Mevlevi Sufi Lodge. After receiving a reprimand from ‘Abdulvaḥīd Efendi for disregarding his directive to avoid the governor, İzbudak found it increasingly difficult to remain in Konya. Though he does not disclose the precise reasons behind the conflict between ‘Abdulvaḥīd Çelebi Efendi and the governor, he narrates the episode as follows:
At that time, tensions between the governor and the late ‘Abdulvaḥīd Çelebi Efendi, who had arrived at the Makam-ı Mevlānā, escalated into outright hostility. Upon my return, Çelebi Efendi explicitly commanded me not to visit the governor. However, given the generosity and kindness I had received from him, I did not see it as proper to abruptly sever my visits. I continued to meet with him from time to time. When Çelebi Efendi learned of this, he turned against me, while the governor, in turn, assumed that I had aligned myself with Çelebi Efendi, and his previous goodwill toward me faded. At that point, Çelebi Efendi, as was his habit, reprimanded me for no apparent reason, leaving me with no choice but to leave Konya.Footnote 48
As İzbudak left Konya, setting his sights on Dersaʿādet, he departed for Istanbul in 1889.Footnote 49 Embarking on this journey, he was eager to broaden his knowledge and deepen his connections within the religious and scholarly circles of the imperial capital. In this shifting landscape, where loyalty to heritage and calls for progress converged, İzbudak’s dual role as a bureaucrat and Sufi scholar would be tested and ultimately redefined. In Istanbul, İzbudak took residence at the Bahāriye Mevlevihāne, where his scholarly pursuits flourished under the guidance of influential figures, most notably Sheikh Osman Şems Efendi (Dede)Footnote 50 (d. 1893)Footnote 51 from whom he received his icāzāt (certifications). This period in Istanbul marked a time of prolific networking and mentorship, as İzbudak found in Sheikh Ḥüseyin Fahreddin Efendi (d. 1911)—not only a respected elder, but also a sole patron.Footnote 52 Bahāriye introduced him to a world of eminent intellectual figures, in which he mingled with officials such as Mehmed Sāḥib Mollā Efendi (d. 1910)Footnote 53—head of the Council of State (Şūrā-yı Devlet) and a devoted Mevlevi supporter, as well as many prominent Mevlevi leaders of the time. These interactions, as İzbudak familiarised himself with Istanbul’s dynamic bureaucratic and Sufi circles, would leave a lasting imprint on his intellectual endeavours.Footnote 54
During this period, he immersed himself in translating several works from Arabic and Persian while reworking many others into refined Ottoman Turkish.Footnote 55 As İzbudak’s scholarly ambitions solidified, so did his self-assurance, shaping his vision of himself as a rising intellectual who was destined for recognition. His aspiration extended beyond personal achievement; he sought to contribute meaningfully to the Islamic world, positioning himself among its distinguished figures. Reflecting on his ultimate goal, he states: ‘For as long as I can remember, I had a great ambition: after becoming a scholar, to serve the Islamic world in a significant way, either through state service or with the aid of paper and pen.’Footnote 56 At that time, he intended to take a journey through the Islamic world, beginning in Ottoman lands and stretching eastward to Iran and India. As a young man leaving the imperial capital behind, İzbudak sought to carve out a meaningful space for himself—one in which he could serve with purpose and fully utilise his intellectual potential. Unable to secure a suitable position in Istanbul, he turned his gaze toward the broader Islamic world, searching for an opportunity that would allow him to contribute while ensuring his livelihood. His aspirations were driven not solely by material necessity, but also by a profound sense of duty to find a meaningful avenue for service. Recognising this, Fahreddin Dede took it upon himself to create an opportunity for İzbudak, introducing him to the then-Minister of the Interior (Dāhiliye Naẓīrı), Münir Paşa (d. 1897).Footnote 57 Münir Paşa, understanding the young scholar’s potential, offered him a government position with a stable salary, securing his future in Istanbul.Footnote 58 This opportunity proved pivotal, enabling İzbudak to realise his broader ambitions with the practical responsibilities of a bureaucratic career in the imperial capital.
When İzbudak entered the Bābıāli bureaucracy during the Hamidian era, the autonomy once held by dervish lodges in both internal and external matters had already been significantly eroded. Their influence over the state and society had waned, and a gradual migration of dervishes from the tekke to newly established state offices was underway.Footnote 59 It was in this changing environment that İzbudak took on the role of censorship officer in the Interior Ministry’s Domestic Press Office (Maṭbūʿāt-ı Dāhiliye Ḳalemi) in 1890—a position he described as ‘The state, which no one else could attain, came to me’ (kimsenin nāil olamadığı devlet benim ayağıma geldi).Footnote 60 He served as an Inspector of Publications (Maṭbaʿa Müfettişliği) into the turn of the early Constitutional Era.Footnote 61 Alongside his official responsibilities, he took on additional duties, teaching Persian at Mekteb-i Sulṭānī (Galatasaray Imperial High School) and Dārülfünūn for a brief period until his return in the final years of the empire.Footnote 62 Recognised for his contributions, he received Ottoman honours, including the fourth-degree order in 1898.Footnote 63
In the broader context of the Ottoman bureaucratic identity, İzbudak’s representation of this cadre is significant: he embodied a multifaceted profile that spanned Sufi rituals and education, linguistic expertise, and the arts, including literature and poetry. This period also saw the efforts of Ottoman intellectuals who, amid the increasing influence of Western culture on social life and state administration, emphasised a Muslim Turkish identity, striving to reshape it into a modern form. These initiatives encompassed fields as diverse as history, literature, music, and language, aiming to forge a cohesive identity that bridged traditional legacies with the evolving demands of a modernising polity.
A prelude to Turkish language and identity: İzbudak’s legacy in Ottoman linguistics
Amidst the prevalent currents of Ottoman modernisation, the decline of Ottomanism as an ideological framework—once envisioned to foster unity and equality among the empire’s diverse subjects—paved the way for the emergence of nationalistic discourses, with language ascending as a pivotal axis in articulating and consolidating cultural identity.Footnote 64 As Ottoman subjects increasingly sought clearer distinctions of cultural belonging, intellectuals emphasised the need to trace languages to their origins.Footnote 65 Intellectuals such as Ẓiyā Paşa (d. 1880), Nāmik Kemāl (d. 1888), and Ibrāhīm Şinasi (d. 1871) did not just advocate for simplifying Turkish to bridge the chasm between the elite’s script and the public’s speech; they saw it as vital for fostering national unity and enhancing civic engagement.Footnote 66 Under Sultan ʿAbdülḥamīd II (r. 1876–1909), this vision materialised, with Turkish becoming the state language—a transformation that marked a significant cultural shift within the broader spectrum of intellectual revival.Footnote 67 Amidst this, although not yet ideologically rigid, the contemporary Turkish intellectuals were becoming increasingly passionate about defining a Turkish identity and beginning to delve into the origins, dialects, and historical narratives of the Turkish language,Footnote 68 with their works being essential for the nascent concept of nation-building. In this vibrant period, İzbudak engaged actively in the ongoing language and national identity discourse, particularly through publications such as Iḳdām, and emerged as a key figure in nineteenth-century Turkish cultural revivalism. He significantly contributed to intellectual circles, which promoted Turkish nationalism through language reform and cultural preservation.Footnote 69
During his years at Bahariye Mevlevi Lodge, İzbudak developed a keen interest in the Turkish language. In his memoirs, he expressed frustration with his contemporaries, whom he criticised for their indifference toward the Turkish language, noting that many writers of the period had neglected its study, failing to grasp its significance.Footnote 70 It was then that he began writing most of his studies on the Turkish language within the dynamic intellectual life in Istanbul.Footnote 71 Çelebi’s intellectual orientation was deeply rooted in the nationalist currents of his time.Footnote 72 He was notably influenced by his association with Necīb Asım (d. 1935)—one of the early ideologues of Turkism and a prominent scholar of Turkish history and language. This connection introduced him to Aḥmed Midḥat Efendi (d. 1912)—a towering intellectual in the Hamidian era—and brought him into a network of like-minded scholars, including Yūsuf Aḳçura (d. 1935), all of whom shared a vision of redefining identity through language and history.Footnote 73 İzbudak became a regular attendee at the gatherings that Midḥat Efendi hosted at his house, where he received encouragement and access to Mithat’s extensive library for pursuing his linguistic work.Footnote 74 During this period, İzbudak published various writings in newspapers such as Tercümān-ı ḥaḳīḳat and Iḳdām,Footnote 75 as well as in magazines such as Mekteb, Hazīne-i Fünūn, and Resimli Gazete,Footnote 76 and actively participated in the debates on language among the Ottoman intellectuals of the period, with his poems also being published under the pen name Bahāʾī.Footnote 77
Veled Bahāʾī’s series of articles in Iḳdām offers a scholarly examination of the evolution of the Turkish language and its cultural underpinnings. Through his writings, such as the multiple instalments of ‘Erteng’ Der Nevādir-i Ferheng’ (‘Tomorrow’s [language] among the rarities of culture’), Çelebi critically engages with the history and lexicon of the Turkish language, advocating for a revitalisation—a return to its roots. His work reflects a methodical approach to linguistic reform, in which he delves into the nuances of language as both a repository of culture and a vehicle for contemporary expression. In his discussions on orthography and lexicon, particularly in ‘Makāle-i Mahṣūṣa: İmlā: Muḳaddime’ (‘A special article: Orthography: an introduction’), İzbudak advocates a fundamental re-evaluation of the Turkish language. His articles, spanning specific lexical analyses to broader cultural critiques, and his vision during this period articulated through these works were both retrospective—honouring linguistic heritage—and progressive, linking language to cultural and national destiny.Footnote 78
Çelebi’s close companion Necīb Asım’s early advocacy for linguistic and historical reforms, emphasising simplicity in the Turkish language, profoundly influenced İzbudak’s vision. Their shared advocacy for a simplified Turkish that valued national identity over Ottoman hybridity underscored a nuanced intellectual stance.Footnote 79 They held that language was not merely a medium of communication, but also a cultural and historical artefact that shaped collective memory and identity. This is evident in Çelebi’s adoption of the vāv spelling for the term ‘Türk’—a stylistic choice that emphasised a distinctly Turkish linguistic identity that was separate from the cosmopolitan and Islamicised vocabulary prevalent in Ottoman texts.Footnote 80 The decision to use the vāv vowel symbolised a break from the Persian and Arabic scripts, representing a language that was both rooted in and accessible to Turkish-speaking audiences.Footnote 81 His choice sparked reactions among the contemporary Turkish literati, who humorously nicknamed him Vāvlı Türk (the Turk with vāv)—a moniker that he embraced with pride, as noted in his memoirs.Footnote 82 While some sources suggest that his preference aimed to avoid the negative connotations of the Arabic plural form, as in the disparaging phrase Etrāk-ı bī İdrāk (Turks without comprehension), his writings reveal a broader commitment to integrating vowels in Turkish script as part of his ongoing efforts to simplify the use of Turkish language.Footnote 83 Unlike some contemporaries who pursued purification as a political project, Çelebi’s approach was pragmatic, aiming for practical enhancements to the usability of the language.
Following these literary efforts, the institutionalisation of these ideas took place in the period after the Young Turk Revolution, within an atmosphere of freedom that enabled the press and publication boom, as well as the formation of associations. In this liberal milieu, Yūsuf Akçura (d. 1935) approached two prominent Turkish linguists, Necīb Asım and İzbudak, proposing a nationalist association dedicated solely to Turkish cultural heritage under the name Türk Derneği (Turkish Association).Footnote 84 Through regional branches and libraries, it envisioned Turkish as a bridge across cultural spheres, aiming to foster linguistic unity throughout the Balkans, Central Asia, and Europe.Footnote 85 The association’s foundational document, the Declaration of the Turkish Association (Türk Derneği Beyānnāmesi), articulated its ambition: to establish Turkish as a unifying language.Footnote 86 The foundation of Türk Derneği was followed by the launch of a journal bearing the same name, with İzbudak as the ṣāḥib-i imtiyāz (owner of publishing rights).Footnote 87 The association’s middle-ground stance sought to simplify the language without alienating its historical and cultural roots. This approach set the Turkish Association apart from more stringent tasfiyeci (purificationist) movements, which aimed for a wholesale replacement of foreign vocabulary.Footnote 88 Indeed, the association was to lay the groundwork for future movements and sow the seeds for emerging institutions.Footnote 89
Despite internal divisions, the members of Türk Derneği shared a common goal of transforming Turkish into a unifying and accessible language, reflecting a synthesising mindset. Their linguistic reforms, aimed at Turkification by prioritising Turkish pronunciation and usage over Arabic orthography, were coupled with their historical perspective that emphasised continuity with the Ottoman and pre-Ottoman imperial legacies. This dual focus led to the establishment of the Institute for Ottoman History (Tarih-i Osmānī Encümeni) in 1909, with İzbudak heading its Konya branch.Footnote 90 Beyond affirming Ottoman continuity, this initiative also highlighted the historical and cultural significance of Turkish-speaking regions and pre-Ottoman empires. During this period, the Linguistic Research Committee (Tedḳīḳāt-ı Lisāniye Heyʾeti, 1917) was formed to guide reforms, reflecting a cautious stance among its members against adopting the Latin alphabet. As committee spokesperson Ahmed Cevat Emre remarked: ‘The spread of a foreign religion comes through the alteration of its alphabet, just as the conquest of a people comes through the transformation of their language’—a perspective also held by İzbudak.Footnote 91
From the 1890s through to the Second Constitutional Era, İzbudak played a key role in language-reform debates, advocating a balanced approach. Amidst fervent discussions on purifying the Turkish language from foreign influences, he supported the retaining of well-integrated foreign terms, particularly Arabic words that were vital to religious and scholarly contexts, while opposing their unnecessary use in daily life.Footnote 92 Proposing practical Arabic instruction for understanding religious texts, he prioritised clarity and communication over rigid purism, aligning language reform with the cultural and social realities of Turkish society and promoting a language policy that was both inclusive and forward-looking. İzbudak’s dedication to the Turkish language was deeply influenced by a cultural-nationalist perspective, which was aimed at not only preserving, but also enriching, the language.
His scholarly and methodical approach emphasised documenting and organising Turkish vernacular expressions, folk sayings, and regional dialects. These efforts aimed to preserve linguistic diversity and enhance the literary and cultural resonance of the language, asserting the importance of a linguistically unified identity that could serve both historical appreciation and modern necessities. His magnum opus, Türk Lügatı—a 12-volume lexicon developed over nearly four decades—stands as a testament to this commitment.Footnote 93 Organised alphabetically, it integrates idioms, proverbs, and excerpts from Divan and folk literature, showcasing the richness and cultural depth of the Turkish language.Footnote 94 In the introduction to this lexicon Türk Diline Medhal (published separately in 1923Footnote 95), İzbudak proposed simplifying grammar and syntax to align spoken and written Turkish, fostering a unified language that could bridge the gap between the linguistic elite and the general populace. He advocated refining the script to better reflect contemporary pronunciation, retaining Persian and Arabic influences selectively to balance functionality with cultural heritage.Footnote 96
İzbudak’s scholarly examination of the linguistic nexus between Turkish, Arabic, Persian, and French elucidates the complex landscape of the historical and philological interrelations that these languages shared in the late Ottoman intellectual milieu.Footnote 97 His invocation of ‘our own pure Turkmen language (bizim ḥālis Türkmencemiz)’ functions as a distinct linguistic marker and a powerful affirmation of Turkish linguistic autonomy amid diverse influences. While Arabic and Persian had long provided the primary scholarly and religious lexicon, by the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, French had emerged as the dominant language of diplomacy, science, and intellectual discourse, shaping both bureaucratic elites and reformist circles.Footnote 98 İzbudak, acutely aware of this linguistic shift, did not reject French outright, but sought to manage its incorporation into Turkish in a way that preserved national linguistic identity.Footnote 99 His lexicographic work, particularly Türk Lügatı, reflects this careful negotiation—documenting evolving terminology while ensuring that borrowed words did not overshadow the structural and phonetic integrity of Turkish. In this regard, French represented both a challenge and a resource: an external influence that required regulation and an intellectual tool that facilitated engagement with European intellectual currents.Footnote 100 İzbudak’s engagement with French exemplifies the broader discursive struggles of late Ottoman intellectuals who endeavoured to reconcile the imperatives of linguistic modernisation with the preservation of cultural continuity and the construction of a cohesive national identity.Footnote 101 İzbudak’s vision, rooted in the Turkish–Islamic intellectual tradition, thus sought to fortify Turkish against excessive foreign influence while strategically integrating necessary linguistic developments into a consistent framework for a modernised yet historically anchored Turkish lexicon.
İzbudak as a Mevlevi Sufi sheikh
In the nineteenth century, the Mevleviyye Sufi order found itself at the crossroads of Ottoman modernisation, navigating between its longstanding religious authority and the shifting political landscape of the empire. Unlike more insular Sufi orders that emphasised religious orthodoxy and strict adherence to state-defined Sunni Islam, the Mevlevis cultivated a cosmopolitan, literate, and intellectually engaged tradition, positioning themselves as intermediaries between the state and society.Footnote 102 Their patronage of music, poetry, and intellectual inquiry—combined with their deep-rooted connections to reformist bureaucrats and statesmen—allowed them to play a prominent role in the Tanzimat-era (1839–1876) modernisation efforts.Footnote 103 They aligned with constitutionalist currents that sought to balance state authority with civil liberties, seeing these reforms as an extension of their historical engagement with governance rather than as a rupture from Ottoman political traditions. Their concept of hürriyet (freedom) was framed not as radical opposition, but rather as a means to ensure the empire’s longevity through institutional and legal restructuring.
The Mevlevis’ political engagement, however, had deeper roots. Istanbul Mevlevi sheikhs, particularly Sheikh Gālib (d. 1799), had supported the reform efforts of Sultan Selīm III (r. 1789–1807)—a pattern that continued into the Tanzimat period. ʿOsmān Salāheddīn Dede (d. 1886), a pivotal figure in this trajectory, played a significant role in aligning the Mevlevis with state-led reforms.Footnote 104 As the first head of the Council of Sheikhs, he was a very influential figure with close ties to the court. However, his close alignment with constitutionalist figures—including Midhat Paşa (d. 1884), architect of the 1876 Ottoman Constitution, and Crown Prince Reşad Efendi (later Sultan Mehmed V, r. 1909–1918), a known constitutionalist sympathiser and patron of the order—further intensified this scrutiny and caused the relationship with the order and Sultan ʿAbdülḥamīd II to be extremely strained.Footnote 105 This involvement ultimately led to increased scrutiny under the Hamidian regime, continuously leading to constant surveillance by the spy network.Footnote 106
The Mevlevis’ reformist orientation also extended to their linguistic and cultural contributions. İzbudak’s engagement with language reform illustrates how the Mevlevis sought to redefine their identity in the modern era, increasingly incorporating linguistic and cultural revivalist elements into their religious discourse.Footnote 107 With the rise of nationalism across Europe and the Ottoman empire, the Mevlevis, in line with their Sufi identity dating back to the Anatolian Seljuk empire, sought to construct a historical narrative that emphasised their Turkish heritage, in deep contrast with the Hamidian pan-Islamic policies.Footnote 108 İzbudak’s efforts to foreground Turkish in Mevlevi poetry, particularly through his work on Sultan Veled’s Turkish verses, reflect this framework.Footnote 109 While they could not explicitly advocate for Turkish nationalism through religious means, they sought to assert a distinct linguistic and cultural identity, aligning their legacy with the broader currents of language reform and national consciousness.
The period of Sultan Reşād’s reign offered a temporary reprieve, reaffirming the historical bonds through ceremonial honours that underscored the sultan’s respect for their religious leadership. The Mevlevis’ affiliation with the throne was symbolised through formal ceremonies, such as the ceremonial girding of the sword by the head of the Konya Mevlevi Lodge; yet, the relentless political and economic crises continued to dictate the precarious fate of the Mevlevi lodges, mirroring the empire’s own decline.Footnote 110 Following the Young Turk Revolution (1908), İzbudak’s appointment as pūstnişīn of the Galata Mevlevi Lodge and, subsequently, the Konya Mevlevihānesi placed him in a pivotal role within the Ottoman Mevlevi network.Footnote 111 These appointments, conferred during a politically volatile period, invite questions about İzbudak’s perceived alignment with the ruling regime.Footnote 112 While his tenure reflects his enduring religious leadership and commitment to Mevlevi traditions, İzbudak’s reflections in his Hatırat suggest a more complex dynamic. Writing of the period, he observed that ‘[d]espite their lofty promises, the disorder and confusion that followed rendered any trust in their governance untenable’,Footnote 113 hinting at his growing disillusionment with the CUP’s governance and ideological excesses. Rather than engaging directly with the political agenda, İzbudak appears to have channelled his energies into intellectual and cultural pursuits. His tenure as a Mevlevi sheikh during this period suggests a deliberate focus on religious leadership and cultural initiatives, including linguistic studies and the preservation of Mevlevi traditions, rather than an embrace of active political engagement.
İzbudak initially served as the deputy to ʿAṭāʾullāh Dede (d. 1910) before succeeding him as the twenty-ninth sheikh of Galata Mevlevihānesi—a position he held from 1908 to 1909.Footnote 114 Galata Sufi Lodge, as Istanbul’s oldest Mevlevi lodge (established 896/1491), held a distinctive position, bridging Ottoman spiritual life with the intellectual and artistic currents of the capital, and a legacy that is deeply entwined with Ottoman intellectual and religious life. Galata’s stature as a centre of Sufi thought owes much to the legacy of figures such as İsmail Rusūhī Ankaravī (d. 1041/1631), who wove Ibn al-ʿArabī’s (d. 638/1240) teachings into the fabric of Mevlevi practices, and Sheikh Ghālib (d. 1213/1799), a revered poet and author of Ḥüsn ü ʿAşk, whose artistic vision and close alliance with Sultan Selīm III (r. 1789–1808)—an ardent supporter of Mevlevi music and culture—helped solidify the lodge’s intellectual and artistic prestige.Footnote 115 This autonomy later allowed Galata Mevlevihāne to align with the progressive reforms of the Tanzimat and constitutional periods, embracing a reformist outlook that blended tradition with innovation.Footnote 116 It was within this dynamic, evolving context that İzbudak led Galata Lodge, harmonising his scholarly pursuits—exemplified by his foundational work with the Turkish Association in Turkish language and cultural identity—with his religious responsibilities, thereby reinforcing the lodge’s legacy of intellectual and artistic engagement as a vibrant centre of Ottoman Sufi thought and cultural progress. In assuming the mantle of the sheikh, İzbudak brought with him a vision shaped by the ethos of the Second Constitutional Period, marked by his dedication to Turkish linguistic and cultural revitalisation. His tenure at Galata can be seen as a continuation of the lodge’s established commitment to intellectual and artistic progress, positioning it as a vibrant nexus of Ottoman intellectual and religious life and the sociocultural landscape of early twentieth-century Istanbul. In 1910, İzbudak was appointed as the pūstnişīn of the Konya Mevlevi Lodge, replacing ʿAbdülḥalīm Çelebi (d. 1925), who had been dismissed by Sultan Meḥmed Reşād.Footnote 117 According to İzbudak, this replacement occurred after the former sheikh of the Āsitāne ʿAbdülḥalīm Çelebi was acting against the will of Sultan Reşād and the dervishes in the Konya Lodge demanded İzbudak to be appointed as the sheikh.Footnote 118
The appointment of Veled Çelebi İzbudak and the turbulent dynamics in Konya, 1910
In the midst of the Second Constitutional Era’s political fervour, the appointment of Veled Çelebi as pūstnişīn, the sheikh of the head Sufi lodge of Mevleviyye order in Konya (Mevlevi Āsitānesi), on 27 June 1910 sparked a flurry of reactions, laying bare the fault lines within Ottoman society.Footnote 119 Archival records reveal a web of support and resistance, as Ottoman authorities received an onslaught of petitions, some heralding Veled Çelebi İzbudak’s qualifications and others decrying the disruption of Mevlevi tradition,Footnote 120 as ʿAbdülḥalīm Çelebi—himself the son of the previous pūstnişīn—was ousted. Second, they argued that the decision went against the will of the local community and the values upheld by the Second Constitutional Era, emphasising the autonomy and self-governance of the Konya Mevlevihāne. This friction illuminates a broader struggle within the empire as local autonomy and modernist reforms intersected, challenging long-held structures and hierarchies. ʿAbdülḥalīm Çelebi, the former pūstnişīn, alongside his followers, voiced objections, arguing that the appointment bypassed the lineage that had traditionally defined the Mevlevi leadership. These objections were not limited to Mevlevi elites; a surprising coalition, including Christian leaders from various denominations—from the French church, local Catholic and Protestant churches, as well as Armenian and Greek Orthodox communities—as well as notable local figures, joined the protest, asserting that the selection of Veled Çelebi İzbudak contradicted the community’s wishes and undermined the lodge’s autonomy.
Yet, support for İzbudak was robust and articulated with equal vigour. Letters of endorsement praised him as a figure well suited to the modern intellectual and cultural landscape. Proponents emphasised his role in the Turkish Association and his dedication to Turkish linguistic and cultural revitalisation, framing his appointment as a necessary step toward the intellectual advancement of the Mevlevi lodge. For his supporters, İzbudak embodied a progressive spirit that aligned seamlessly with the constitutional reforms of the era, casting him as a bridge between Sufi tradition and the new nationalist aspirations of the empire. This support underscored the ideological divisions within Konya, where factions envisioned vastly different futures for the lodge’s role in society.
By late June, tensions surrounding ʿAbdülḥalīm Çelebi’s dismissal escalated dramatically. In a letter to the sultan, the former pūstnişīn expressed regret, not over the dismissal itself, but over the fact that it was carried out by the sultan’s appointment, asserting his unworthiness of such treatment yet pledging continued loyalty. In another letter to Sheikh al-Islām on 24 June 1910, he accused malicious individuals of conspiring against him and appealed to the constitutional government to protect his rights. Correspondence between the Grand Vizierate and the Governorate of Konya revealed claims of defamatory telegrams sent to Istanbul during his absence, prompting Governor Meḥmed ʿĀrifī Paşa to defer the matter to central authorities, wary of the politically charged nature of the dispute.Footnote 121 The tension culminated in July with a protest led by Meḥmed Rāʾif, representing 5,000 Konya residents, demanding ʿonya ḥalīm Çelebi’s reinstatement. Gathering at the telegraph office, the protestors sent their grievances directly to the sultan, vowing to remain until their demands were met. This protest highlighted the deep local opposition and the enduring influence of the pūstnişīn in Konya, blending local power struggles with broader ideological shifts of the time.
Despite these protests, the central administration remained resolute. By 27 August 1910, a telegram from the Grand Vizier to Sheikh al-Islām affirmed the legitimacy of İzbudak’s appointment and dismissed the opposition’s demands as unfounded.Footnote 122 The message asserted that ʿAbdülḥalīm Çelebi’s dismissal was founded on valid reasons and that opposing his replacement was unacceptable. Additionally, it noted that a letter had been dispatched to the Konya province to caution the dissenters. This authoritative stance marked a decisive moment, as the Ottoman state asserted its prerogative over religious appointments, signalling a shift in the delicate balance of power between the Mevlevi order and the state. İzbudak’s eventual arrival in Konya, marked by an official reception, symbolised his contested yet formal accession to the pūstnişīn position. In a letter dated that same day, he notes that, upon his arrival, he was warmly welcomed at the station by local government officials and members of the public.Footnote 123 İzbudak recounts his appointment as a response to the sultan’s directive, approaching the role with an attitude of compliance and readiness to serve. His acceptance reflects a stance of dutiful obedience to the established authority, aligning with the expectations of his position within the Mevlevi hierarchy.Footnote 124 Additionally, his appointment to the Konya Āsitāne (main centre of the order) during the CUP administration may reflect this affinity, less as a formal association than as an instance of tacit alignment with unionist ideals. After the proclamation of the Second Constitutional Monarchy in 1908, he resigned from civil service to focus on his writing. On the very first day of the Second Constitution, according to his memoir, he took off his civil clothes and wore the Mevlevi garments. Through his tenure, Çelebi maintained notable, albeit indirect, connections with unionist circles.Footnote 125
Veled Çelebi İzbudak’s pūstnişīn (head sheikh) tenure at the Konya Āsitāne (1910–1919)
Upon his appointment to the esteemed position of pūstnişīn at the Konya Mevlevi Lodge, İzbudak endeavoured to integrate the lodge’s religious mission with the pressing needs of his time. Renting an adjoining house to remain close to the Mevlevihāne, he dedicated himself to the institution, spending his days and nights within its walls. His commitment went beyond mere presence. İzbudak, serving in this capacity for nine years, sustained his authorship and rigorous scholarly pursuits while simultaneously undertaking responsibilities as sheikh, imām, mesnevīẖān, and mudarris.Footnote 126 At the lodge, he taught the dervishes from Calāl al-Dīn Rūmī’s Mesnevī-i Şerīf and Minhāc-ı Şerīf,Footnote 127 and he also offered Persian lessons to students at the Karatay Medrese.Footnote 128 He meticulously studied the lodge’s historic artefacts and those in the libraries in Konya, transcribing inscriptions from the tombstones of figures such as Bahāʾ al-Dīn Veled (d. 628/1231), Mevlānā, and Sultan Veled (d. 712/1312), alongside other significant relics. His ambition extended to revitalising the Dergāh’s legacy, balancing both tradition and a vision for the future.Footnote 129
Calling himself a çelebi of the Constitutional Era, İzbudak led with a markedly different style from his predecessors.Footnote 130 He recalls Sultan Reşād’s kindness and regard, yet he is quick to underscore the limits of that support. Despite the symbolic backing, his efforts to implement lodge reforms met repeated obstacles, mired in a bureaucratic tangle of indifference and hesitation. The CUP members’ response further underscores the political climate’s ambivalence: rather than outright opposition, they employed a more passive, indirect form of resistance by lavishing him with ceremonial honours that diverted attention from his substantive proposals. The CUP, often having secular ambitions as stated in İzbudak’s memoir, viewed such aspirations for modernised religious education with scepticism, if not outright hostility, due to its wariness of religious institutions and their influence. Yet İzbudak remained undeterred, pressing for the renovation of key educational sites within the Mevlevihāne.
İzbudak’s tenure as pūstnişīn of the Konya Mevlevi Lodge was defined by an ambitious vision to reform and institutionalise the order, ensuring its continued relevance in the rapidly transforming Ottoman state. He viewed the Mevlevi lodges not merely as spiritual centres, but as critical educational, administrative, and philanthropic institutions. His reform efforts rested on three main pillars: institutional reorganisation, educational restructuring, and philanthropic initiatives, all reflecting his bureaucratic mindset and his desire to integrate the Mevlevi order into the modern Ottoman framework while preserving its historical legitimacy, which he viewed not only as a centre of Sufi tradition, but also as a crucial educational and cultural force within Ottoman society.Footnote 131
His first major initiative focused on the formalisation and standardisation of the Mevlevi hierarchy.Footnote 132 Unlike other Sufi orders that had a more fluid organisational structure, the Mevlevis historically maintained strong ties with political power, particularly through their Seljuk and Ottoman-era affiliations.Footnote 133 İzbudak sought to further institutionalise this legacy by clearly defining the ranks within the order, establishing an official record of titles and ensuring that the internal hierarchy of the Mevlevi tekkes was preserved and recognised by the state. This effort was both an assertion of the order’s autonomy—ensuring that it remained distinct from other Sufi orders under the oversight of the Meclis-i Meşayih—and a strategic move to solidify the Mevlevi leadership’s authority. By consolidating its internal organisation, İzbudak aimed to position the Mevlevi order as an independent, structured, and influential institution capable of negotiating with the Ottoman state on equal footing rather than being subsumed under centralised religious authority.
The second pillar of his reform efforts revolved around education. İzbudak envisioned the Mevlevi lodges not only as centres of spiritual practice, but also as institutions that could engage with modern education. He sought to elevate Mevlevi educational institutions, particularly the Sultan Veled Medrese, to the status of formal schools that could complement the Ottoman state’s broader educational reforms. His proposals included integrating a structured curriculum that combined traditional Mevlevi texts, such as the Mesnevi, with secular subjects, particularly grammar and language instruction. This reflected his broader intellectual engagement with Turkish linguistic reform—just as he aimed to purify and systematise the Turkish language, he sought to rationalise and modernise Mevlevi education. His goal was to bridge the gap between the traditional Sufi epistemology of the tekkes and the rationalist, standardised approach of the Ottoman reformist educational model.
His third major initiative was philanthropy and social welfare, particularly the use of vakıf resources to expand charitable projects.Footnote 134 İzbudak advocated for the establishment of hospitals and care centres for the elderly and infirm by using the financial resources of the Mevlevi lodges. His vision was to redirect vakıf revenues toward sustainable social projects, ensuring that the Mevlevi order continued its legacy of public service while adapting to modern needs. Ultimately, İzbudak’s reformist vision was deeply rooted in his broader intellectual pursuits. His role in the Türk Derneği and his dedication to Turkish linguistic and cultural revitalisation shaped his approach to the Mevlevi order, as he sought to modernise its structure without severing its historical and spiritual foundations. His efforts reflected not just an internal reordering of Mevlevi affairs, but a strategic attempt to carve out a space for order within the bureaucratic and intellectual frameworks of the modernising Ottoman state.
However, these ambitions faced significant resistance from within the order. His financial reforms, which sought to align lodge revenues from agricultural endowments with the financial needs of the Āsitāne, were met with opposition from family members and fellow çelebis who viewed the tekke’s wealth as a patrimonial right rather than a communal resource. His attempts to reallocate these funds toward sustaining resident dervishes and enhancing educational programmes directly challenged entrenched interests that sought to maintain the status quo. Furthermore, his proposal to transform Sultan Veled MedreseFootnote 135 and Karatay Medrese into modern institutions and establish facilities for elderly Mevlevis met with resistance from both within the lodge and the state.Footnote 136 He narrates his experiences with grief in his memoir:
From the time I arrived in Konya until my dismissal, I was constantly exhausted by the pleas, threats, and complaints directed everywhere by my cousins, each demanding a share from this insufficient endowment large enough to support their families. No matter what sacrifices I made or what measures I took, nothing proved effective. At the very least, I wanted to transform Sultan Veled Medrese into a primary school and Karatay into a secondary school and to convert Hasan Efendi’s garden into a hospital or a shelter for the elderly for all Mevlevis, but it was impossible. They engaged in every form of intrigue to obstruct these initiatives. I could not persuade the çelebi families to send their children to any lessons—they all wasted their time loitering around coffeehouses. I worked hard to achieve these goals, yet I failed to secure the support of either Şeyhülislam Musa Kazım Efendi or Grand Vizier Talat Pasha. Everywhere I turned, I encountered hesitation and indecision. Time passed in complete despair until I finally joined the war effort.Footnote 137
Everywhere, he encountered reluctance—a quiet indifference that mirrored broader ambivalence within the court and the government toward revitalising dervish lodges.Footnote 138 In the end, İzbudak’s reflections capture a poignant reality: despite his determined efforts to align Mevlevi traditions with the reformist ethos of the constitutional period, he was met with unyielding obstacles from both political and familial fronts.Footnote 139 Yet, his charisma and the Mevlevi order’s enduring prestige ensured a steady following, even as institutional support faltered. In the archival notes curated by Yakup Şafak, there exists detailed information regarding prominent individuals who became disciples of İzbudak, meticulously recounted in İzbudak’s own words.Footnote 140 During the imperial visit to Konya in 1912, İzbudak’s meticulous orchestration of the reception, which included a Persian-infused table prayer that contrasted with his advocacy for linguistic simplification, illustrates his pragmatic negotiation of Mevlevi values and imperial formalities, reflecting the broader tensions of late Ottoman intellectual life in which tradition and reform converged in complex, often contradictory, ways.Footnote 141
During his tenure as the sheikh of the Konya Mevlevi Lodge, İzbudak’s involvement in the establishment of the Konya Electricity Ottoman Joint Stock Company (Konya Elektrik Osmanlı Anonim Şirketi) highlights a complex intersection of religious leadership and economic modernisation. This initiative, undertaken alongside figures such as Yūsuf Ziyā Paşa, not only signals the active participation of Sufi bureaucrats in projects of reform, but also challenges conventional perceptions of the Mevlevi sheikhdom. Far from being confined to matters of religion, his role reflects a deliberate engagement with the bureaucratic and entrepreneurial currents of the late Ottoman empire, raising critical questions about the evolving nature of Sufi authority in an age of profound transformation.Footnote 142
The unionist period brought additional challenges, pushing the Mevlevis into the military realm with the establishment of the Mücāhidīn-i Mevleviyye Regiment, which aimed to uplift Ottoman troops, though it avoided direct combat. This martial involvement reflected both the Mevlevi commitment to the state and the shifting sociopolitical landscape of the late empire. As the Ottoman empire weakened, the Mevlevi order faced parallel challenges, losing both state support and financial independence. İzbudak organised the Mücāhidīn-i Mevleviyye Battalion during World War I. This battalion joined the Fourth Army to support the spiritual well-being of soldiers on the Syrian Front between 1915 and 1918. The battalion consisted largely of dervishes and leaders from over 70 Mevlevihānes. However, this battalion did not fight in the war, but they were assigned to increase the morale of the soldiers from the back front.Footnote 143 The campaign faced significant hardships, leading to the loss of many lives over three and a half years.Footnote 144 During this period, archival records of his correspondence with the Ottoman Grand Vizierate reveal that İzbudak began to be addressed with the dual titles of Pūstnişīn of the Mevlānā Sufi Lodge and Commander of the Mücāhidīn-i Mevleviyye.Footnote 145 In 1919, following the end of World War I and the dissolution of the CUP, İzbudak was removed from his position by the decree of Sheikh al-Islām Muṣṭafā Ṣabrī (d. 1954) and Sultan Mehmed VI Vahideddin (r. 1918–1922), and ʿAbdülḥalīm Çelebi was appointed in his place. This highlights the significant political shifts within the Ottoman administration and their impact on Mevlevi leadership.Footnote 146
Ideology and identity: the republican transformation of Veled Çelebi İzbudak
In the politically charged aftermath of the Ottoman empire’s collapse, Veled Çelebi İzbudak navigated a dual role as both a bureaucrat and an intellectual. His dismissal from the of pūstnişīn at the Konya Mevlevi Sufi Lodge in 1919, following a decree by Sultan Mehmed VI Vahideddin, marked a turning point in his career. Compelled to adapt to a rapidly transforming political landscape, İzbudak aligned himself with the National Struggle in Ankara, marking his transition from an Ottoman official to an advocate of the republican cause. This section examines İzbudak’s evolving identity by analysing his dual role within bureaucratic and scholarly institutions alongside his intellectual responses to the era’s ideological and cultural reforms, particularly his linguistic efforts to position Turkish as a bridge between Ottoman–Islamic heritage and the modernising ideals of the republic.
During the early years of the Turkish republic, Veled Çelebi İzbudak assumed roles that highlighted his adaptability to the rapidly evolving political and cultural landscape. While he maintained a strong affection for the core of the Mevlevi thought, his letters suggest that, after the reinstatement, he remained distant from Mevlevi circles. Throughout the reigns of different regimes, from the Constitutional Era to the early republican period, İzbudak’s proximity to power enabled him to consistently influence cultural policies and language reforms. His tenure in Ankara began with his teaching Persian at Ankara High School and contributing to the Copyright and Translation Committee (Te’līf ve Tercüme Heyeti), established by the Ministry of Education in 1921. This collaboration, particularly with Ẓiyā Gökalp (d. 1924), signified İzbudak’s alignment with the intellectual currents of the time, emphasising linguistic reform as a cornerstone of national identity. Following the proclamation of the republic, İzbudak entered the Turkish parliament, representing Kastamonu and later Yozgat—a position he held for two decades.Footnote 147 His parliamentary career coincided with his active engagement in the Turkish Language Association (Türk Dil Kurumu, established in 1932), in which he contributed significantly to shaping the linguistic policies of the new regime. Central to his efforts was his Turkish dictionary project, supported by Muṣṭafā Kemāl Atatürk (d. 1938) himself, which underscored his vision of the Turkish language as both a bridge to the nation’s Ottoman–Islamic heritage and a tool for modernisation. This dual commitment—balancing continuity with reform—reflected İzbudak’s broader ideological alignment with Turkish nationalism, which sought to redefine the cultural framework of the emerging republic. His linguistic endeavours, deeply rooted in the nationalist current of Türkçülük, sought to position the Turkish language as a unifying cultural force.Footnote 148 Despite his successes, İzbudak faced challenges, including limited publication opportunities for his works and a degree of marginalisation within the republican cadres.Footnote 149 Although he was actively engaged with the revolutionary movement in Ankara, İzbudak continued to express himself in the traditional Ottoman discourse, producing writings and poetry in his distinctive style.
The sweeping reforms of the early Turkish republic presented unprecedented challenges to religious institutions and intellectuals alike, forcing them to navigate the profound shifts in political, cultural, and social paradigms. Veled Çelebi İzbudak’s engagements during this transformative period offer a revealing lens into the complexities of adapting Ottoman–Islamic traditions to the new republican ethos. In 1923, he published an article titled Dinde Teceddüd (‘Renewal in religion’) in Ḥākimiyyet-i Milliye, advocating for a modernised understanding of religious interpretation.Footnote 150 While his argument sought to bridge traditional religious values with contemporary demands, it ignited fierce criticism, particularly from Sheikh Aḥmed Remzī Dede (Akyürek) (d. 1944) of Üsküdar, who accused İzbudak of undermining faith. Feeling the weight of such a backlash, İzbudak chose not to send a drafted reply—a decision reflecting his cautious approach to public dissent and his sensitivity to the volatile intellectual climate of the time.
The abolition of the caliphate in 1924 and subsequent legislative measures, including the closure of dervish lodges in 1925, signalled a decisive rupture with the Ottoman past.Footnote 151 İzbudak’s response to these reforms encapsulates both his dismay at the dismantling of Mevlevi institutions and his pragmatic acceptance of the republic’s modernising trajectory. In his memoirs, he described learning about the closure of the tekkes only after the decision had been made, remarking sombrely that ‘Mevlevism had become a part of history’.Footnote 152 His poetic lament underscored the cultural loss, yet his reflections avoided outright opposition, revealing his ability to reconcile personal disappointment with compliance to state authority. In a letter dated 30 December 1925, sent to Ferīdūn Nafiz Uzluk (d. 1974), İzbudak criticised the Mevlevi leadership for their inability to address the evolving needs of their circles, attributing the decline to their mismanagement rather than the reforms themselves. His emphasis on purifying the Mevlevi tradition from within suggests a nuanced stance—one that acknowledged the necessity for reform while lamenting the loss of spiritual heritage. İzbudak defended his article on ‘renewal in religion’, asserting that his aim was to preserve the core tenets of Islam while eliminating superstitions. Despite his lifelong dedication to religious scholarship and reform, he faced accusations of weak faith.Footnote 153 Reflecting on these events and the closure of dervish lodges, he speculated that such trials could serve as divine instruments for institutional and personal renewal.Footnote 154
In the transformative years of the early Turkish republic, Veled Çelebi İzbudak emerged as both a defender of Sufi traditions and a pragmatic intellectual who was navigating the challenges of sweeping reforms. His pamphlet ‘Let’s not offend each other’ (Birbirimizi Kırmayalım), written in response to sharp criticism of the Mevlevi order in the newspaper İleri, exemplifies his dual role.Footnote 155 Accused of moral corruption and manipulation within dervish lodges, the Mevleviye faced accusations that young children were coerced into obedience under the Mevlevi sheikhdom. Breaking from his usual restrained tone, İzbudak fiercely rebutted these claims, defending the Mevlevi order’s historical contributions to Ottoman–Islamic civilisation and emphasising the enduring relevance of Mevlevi principles.Footnote 156 For him, the integrity of a Sufi order lay in the religious character of its leaders rather than in the physical spaces that they occupied.Footnote 157 İzbudak framed the Mevleviyye as harbingers of renewal (tecdīd) rather than reactionary forces (irticā’), positioning them at the forefront of anti-despotic resistance in Ottoman history.Footnote 158 İzbudak further argues that any perceived shortcomings in Sufi orders’ service to the nation cannot be entirely blamed on the orders themselves, emphasising that many enlightened and intelligent figures have emerged from the Mevlevi community.Footnote 159 He attributed the order’s decline to poor governance and the transformation of Sufi institutions into bureaucratic entities under the Meclis-i Meşāyiḥ.Footnote 160 Written in 1926 (Rumî 1342), this work reveals that criticism of dervish lodges persisted even after their official closure, with newspapers continuing to publish harsh articles to sway public opinion.
İzbudak’s response suggests that, due to the involvement of statesmen with Mevlevi backgrounds, a defence could still be mounted in this ongoing debate, indicating an enduring resistance to these attacks on the Mevlevi order. This text ultimately underscores the Mevlevi order’s efforts to secure a legitimate place within the modern, secular framework shaped by republican reforms, reflecting their desire to adapt to the process of modernisation while preserving their spiritual heritage. The closure of dervish lodges in 1925, part of a series of extensive secular reforms, marked a watershed moment. İzbudak, while critical of the lack of consultation in these decisions, interpreted these events through a Sufi lens. Drawing on the concept of tecellī (manifestation of divine will), he saw even the abolition of the tekkes as a potential catalyst for spiritual and institutional purification. His bridging stance reflected the broader tensions within republican Turkiye, where loyalty to reform coexisted uneasily with a commitment to preserving Ottoman–Islamic heritage. Amid the radical measures of the Alphabet Revolution in 1928, intellectual debates around religion, secularism, and tradition intensified.Footnote 161 İzbudak maintained a vision of language as a bridge between the past and the future. The suddenness and severity of these measures caused widespread shock and dismay among Sufi lodges and dervishes. Advocating for Turkish as a vehicle to transmit Ottoman–Islamic legacies into the modern era, he positioned himself not in opposition to change, but as an intermediary seeking synthesis. This perspective exemplified his broader intellectual project: to reconcile the ruptures of modernity with the continuities of a rich cultural and spiritual heritage.
İzbudak represents a compelling case within the broader spectrum of Sufi responses to a series of reforms that led to the forced removal of traditional religious symbols from public life—neither a staunch opponent nor a passive accommodator, but rather an active participant in shaping its contours.Footnote 162 While mainstream historiography often casts Sufis as either resistant to secularising reforms or wholly excluded from their implementation, revisionist scholars such as İsmail Kara and Hülya Küçük emphasise the diversity of Sufi engagements. Küçük’s categorisation of responses—ranging from direct opposition and silent resistance to institutional adaptation and active collaboration—provides a useful framework for understanding İzbudak’s trajectory.Footnote 163 Unlike those who merely adjusted to the new paradigm, İzbudak functioned as an intermediary figure, bridging traditional and modern institutional spheres. His engagement with state structures did not signify a wholesale abandonment of the Sufi intellectual tradition; rather, it reflected a strategic reconfiguration of its role within the evolving political and cultural order. He did not simply conform to reformist policies, but played a role in defining them, particularly in the realms of linguistic standardisation and historical preservation. By establishing scholarly institutions, participating in administrative roles, and shaping discussions on Turkish linguistic and cultural identity, İzbudak exemplifies a group of Sufi bureaucrats who actively engaged with the ideological and institutional shifts of their time.Footnote 164
Conclusion
Veled Çelebi İzbudak’s legacy exemplifies the transformative potential of a Sufi intellectual navigating the converging worlds of tradition and state-driven reform. His career embodies a multidimensional identity—a Mevlevi Sufi sheikh, a government official, and an ardent advocate for Turkish linguistic reform—illuminating the fluidity and resilience of Ottoman Sufi figures in the face of sociopolitical and cultural shifts. İzbudak’s engagement with Ottoman modernisation, particularly through his linguistic endeavours, positions him as a central yet unconventional figure in the historiography of late Ottoman and early republican reform. He demonstrated an adaptive pragmatism, balancing his spiritual commitments with a vision for cultural revival that embraced modernity without forsaking his Mevlevi roots. İzbudak’s contributions to Turkish language and identity formation reflect his alignment with the nationalist impulses of his time, emphasising a cultural continuity that bridged Ottoman heritage with emergent Turkish nationalism. Through his work with the Turkish Association (Türk Derneği) and as a prominent lexicographer, İzbudak advanced a notion of linguistic purity grounded not in radical purism, but in a cultural synthesis that preserved Ottoman legacies while fostering a cohesive Turkish identity. This approach underscores a distinct perspective within the broader framework of Ottoman reform—one that integrated Sufi ideals with a reformist zeal for national unity, underscoring language as both a cultural reservoir and a symbol of modern statehood. Despite the personal and political tensions he encountered, İzbudak’s intellectual adaptability enabled him to persist as a significant cultural actor across divergent regimes. His capacity to engage with and occasionally critique the state’s reform agenda reflects a nuanced adherence to the principles of Sufi tradition while adapting to the ideological and administrative realities of his time. İzbudak’s life and work challenge reductive characterisations of Sufi figures as passive bystanders in the reformist milieu, instead presenting a portrait of a Sufi bureaucrat who actively shaped the narrative of cultural preservation and modern identity. His trajectory reveals how Sufi intellectuals negotiated their identities and loyalties amidst the complexities of modernisation, contributing to the construction of a Turkish national identity that resonated both with the historical legacies of the Ottoman empire and the secular aspirations of the republic. In İzbudak’s narrative, we see the broader historical dialogue between tradition and reform, marking him as a pivotal yet often overlooked figure whose life illustrates the nuanced role of Sufi intellectuals in the making of contemporary Turkiye.
Conflicts of interest
None.
