//Ed. Note: Turkish soldier Tahir Baykal was taken prisoner
by the Russians during World War I on the Caucasus Front
in February 1916. The year 1920 found Baykal in a Moscow
prison, where he was pressed into service as the translator
for the deposed Khan of Khiva, Said Abdullah. Baykal's
description of this episode is provided below, from the
book "From Darende to Siberia" by Tahir and Yurdakul
Baykal. For the full story of Tahir Baykal's adventures in
revolutionary Russia see Tahir Baykal's Russian Adventures
----------------------------------------------------------------------
A younger picture of Said Abdullah, Khan of Khiva.
"The Khiva Khanate was a place whose borders extended to
areas touching on today’s Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan and
Kazakhstan. It was an Uzbek state that existed from 1512 to
1920, located south of the Aral Sea. In 1910 the Khanate
accepted an agreement whereby Russia became its protector.
The Khanate’s capital city was Khiva and the language spoken
by the Moslem populace was Uzbek. The last ruler was Khan
Abdullah. After I returned from my captivity I learned that the
Russians had starved Khan Abdullah to death in the prison in
Moscow.
The days that I tried to get through living in the Ivanof Prison
were not much different from my previous days in V.C.K.
prison in Moscow. I would get up early in the morning. There
was a rumor going around that the Khan of Khiva and his
entourage were coming to visit the prison. One of the prison
guards grabbed my arm and said 'can you translate for us?
They’re Uzbek Turks like you.' I said that I would be glad to
perform this duty, but I quickly began to think that this might
not be such a good idea because how would I address a king?
What would be the protocol rules and how would they be
implemented? I knew nothing of such things and there was
no one there to help me. I sat down and tried to ready myself.
We all gathered in front of the great gate that opened out from
the large prison courtyard and began to wait excitedly for the
Khan of Khiva. The giant gate opened with a horrible
crunching sound that stung our ears, like a terrible musical
composition would. As the gate opened a cloud of dust
enveloped the courtyard and the smell of gasoline mixed with
the dust. It was a most unpleasant atmosphere. The gas
fumes entered my nostrils, upsetting my stomach.
Consequently, I was having trouble seeing straight and
stumbled, keeping my feet only with great difficulty. Cries
of “Hurrah!” brought me to my senses as an enormous
ramshackle truck entered the courtyard. The European and
American prisoners gathered in the courtyard gradually
raised the level of their cries of 'Hurrah!'. Meanwhile, the
people in the truck looked on intently, but with bewilderment.
These people reminded me of our Janissary soldiers, with
their diamond-shaped fur caps that seemed to be made from
sheepskins. Their hair was very long, reaching down to their
shoulders. Looking from afar the scene gave the impression
of a herd of black-white and colored sheep. All of them
looked quite ashamed, depressed, embarrassed, tense and
exhausted. I provided translation and guidance for the group
and the Khan and I was quite successful in these roles. But
at the time I didn’t know how I would do it and I was having
trouble understanding it all...luck and my courage probably
aided me...
As far as I can remember, there were these people in the Khan
of Khiva’s entourage:
1) Abdullah Khan: the last Khan of Khiva. He appeared to
be between 65 and 70 years-old. The Khan wore a black fur
cap and a striped silk robe that had flowing sleeves and
decorative, shining buttons. On his feet were short boots that
looked like snow shoes.
2) Veliahdi (heir) Abdülhamit: between 22-25 years-old, quite
tall and good-looking. He wore a fur cap on his head and short
boots on his feet.
3) Şeyh-ül İslam: 90 years-old, with a long beard and an
honest face.
4) Governor: rather young-looking and with a dynamic
appearance.
5) Finance Minister Mehmet Bahahaddin: between 30-35
years-old and fat.
I don’t remember the names of anyone else but some of their fur
hats had rather large sides that would remind one of the shape of
baklava. Their outfits were very bulky. For a while, the Khan
and his entourage were given treatment different from ours, but
this did not last long and the poor fellows were quite
downhearted, coming from palace life to a prison camp. Before
long they were all needing a piece of bread and gradually they
joined the rest of us. So this is how we came to realize that the
Khan of Khiva had not come on a visit.
I integrated with them and tried to help them, introducing myself
as a Turkish officer prisoner. One of them, dressed very well,
tried to kiss my hand and bowed almost to the ground upon
learning that I was a Turkish officer. Of course, I didn’t give him
my hand. Saying 'no way!', I turned him away. He said he
was the Finance Minister. As for me, I was very interested in the
Khan so I asked which one he was. They told me that it was
Abdullah Efendi in the black fur cap, in front of them all. They
headed for their assigned rooms and myself and two others
followed them. I heard them talking among themselves, saying
“there’s a Turkish officer prisoner here...” and I noticed that the
Khan, evidently having heard this, turned around suddenly to
try to pick me out. I said to him, “I’m the Turkish officer, your
majesty.”
He extended a Kuran that he took from the sheepskin pocket of
his robe and said:
“What will these men do to us? Why have they brought us here?
For the love of this sacred book will you please tell me?” I was
equally confused about the situation. I took the Kuran from him,
kissed it and pressed it to my forehead. Then I said to the Khan:
“Your majesty, I’ve been here for a year and a half and I’m
getting along as best I can. Up to now I haven’t encountered any
life-threatening situations. Hopefully, the same will be true for
you and you’ll be comfortable. Let me say this, though. You may
find that there is a danger of starving here. As far a I can tell
from what you’ve told me, they brought you away from Khiva
to prevent an uprising against the administration there. There’s
nothing for you to worry about.”
The Khan appeared very depressed and confused. As we talked
he told me about his palaces and his great treasure, while he
roundly cursed the Russians and Bolsheviks.
The Khan said 'Our groups are continuing to struggle against
those scoundrels. If we carry the day and regain our citidal I’ll
make you Minister of War. Even if you don’t accept it I’ll
appoint you as Minister of Education.' When I heard these
exaggerated promises and compliments I started to feel like an
emperor.
When it came time for meal service, the Khan took his plate in
hand and waited for a while next to the cook. He gathered up
the cabbage parts and food crumbs that fell to the floor, put
them on his plate and tried to eat them. This situation upset us
all, and especially me. I related this unpleasant scene to the
prison commissar, who was of Jewish descent, and showed this
to him during meal time. In response, the commissar made the
Khan the cook’s assistant. When I heard that the Khan’s son
was here, too, and that he had been given an authoritative
position, believe me I was very much affected. That worthless
child wasn’t the least bit interested in the sorry state into
which his father had fallen and didn’t look out for him at all.
A few days later while talking with the Khan he couldn’t keep
from complaining to me about his son:
I’m left hungry but he just watches and couldn’t care less.' To
myself I said shame on such a son as you...
When I tried to find out whether what the Khan was saying was
true, I saw that the Khan’s son was gathering up the left over
food and hoarding it, as his father looked on with dismay and
admonition from behind the columns where he hid himself.
I caught this worthless son, whose name was Abdülhamit ,
red-handed. He lacked any love for his father and was heartless.
When I said 'aren’t you ashamed of yourself Hamit? You’re
depriving your benefactor father of even a bite of food and
hoarding it, as well. Isn’t that shameful?' In response, Hamit
said: 'What can I do, sir? Only I can fill my own stomach.'
So you can understand what the situation was in Russia at that
time, when not even goodwill for one’s father remained. I
found this group of people, that I likened to a herd of sheep,
quite interesting, crude and primitive. They reminded me of
our Janissairies. The truck they came in stopped in front of us
with a very sharp braking sound, making those inside the truck
nearly invisible amidst the dust. When the dust and smoke
cleared, the herd in the truck started to get out. In the forefront
was the Khan of Khiva. They rested a bit in a place prepared
for them and then walked around the prison. I translated for
them as best I could. Fortunately, what I feared did not
happen to me but I still don’t know how I was able to
accomplish this task."
//Ed. Note: for background information on the fall of the
last Khan of Khiva see Khiva's Fall/ Background //
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