We haven't been able to take payment
You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Act now to keep your subscription
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Your subscription is due to terminate
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account, otherwise your subscription will terminate.

History: Jem Sultan by John Freely

HarperCollins £18.99 pp342

Until the arrival of Jem Sultan in 1482, most people in Europe thought that Ottoman sultans were terrible Turks who caused trouble. Jem was a revelation. A romantic, athletic young man in sumptuous fabrics and pearl earrings, he composed poetry, sat cross- legged and swam naked. He became friends with some of the key figures in Europe and a lover of some of their daughters. But the main interest for Europeans rested in the fact that he was the son of Sultan Mehmet II, the Conqueror, who had captured Constantinople from the Christians, defeated the Serbs at Kosovo, sacked Rhodes and harassed Italy’s Adriatic coast. Mehmet had been skilled in politics as well as warfare and understood the need to eliminate rivals. He murdered his brother to secure his own reign and left an edict ordering his heir “to kill his brothers in the interest of world order”. What he didn’t do was indicate which of his two sons, Beyazit or Jem, should succeed him. Although Ottoman interests might have been better served had Jem been murdered, world order was preserved by his survival, as John Freely’s fascinating and complex story makes clear.

Beyazit was the elder son, but Jem’s claim rested on his being the only son born “in the purple”, when Mehmet was already sultan. Jem also appears to have been the Conqueror’s favourite, entrusted to conduct delicate negotiations with the Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes. When Mehmet died in May 1481, both sons were in the provinces. Beyazit reached the capital first, where he had himself proclaimed sultan. Jem, meanwhile, did the same in the old Ottoman capital at Bursa. The empire was divided and battle ensued, with Beyazit ending victorious. Jem, who must have known of his father’s edict, ran for his life, first to Cairo and then to the knights on Rhodes, where Pierre d’Aubusson, the Grand Master, guaranteed his freedom.

Once in the castle, it soon became clear that he could not leave. An Ottoman prince was simply too valuable to lose. Jem lived through a complicated period of European history, when the Mediterranean area was riven by a series of shifting alliances involving both Muslim and Christian states. The region, though, was also flourishing. Istanbul was thriving again after being sacked by the Ottoman army, and much of Europe was enjoying its Renaissance: Michelangelo was painting the Sistine Chapel, Leonardo was at work on his Last Supper, the Spaniards and Portuguese were embarked on voyages of discovery and the French were building chateaux along the Loire. Jem ensured that this prosperity would continue: Beyazit was prevented from attacking Europe for fear that the Christian rulers would support Jem’s claim. As the Venetian diplomat Donato wrote, “the peace, quiet and tranquillity of the entire Christian commonwealth” depended on Jem.

But this was also the age of Machiavelli and, although Jem’s presence stopped Ottoman attacks in Europe, it also led Christian rulers to scheme against each other (and with Beyazit) for control of the man. During his 12 years in captivity, Jem was passed from the knights of Rhodes to the Pope in Rome and then to the French king, Charles VIII, who dreamt of using him to retake Constantinople.

Advertisement

These shifting circumstances make for an intricate narrative, further complicated by the bias of contemporary chroniclers. Freely, an authority on Ottoman history, steers a clear course through these intricacies. At times we lose sight of Jem, as he is buried beneath the politics. But at other times he emerges triumphant from what Freely calls the “nimbus of legend”, as, for instance, when he enters Rhodes, the fortress his father had flattened just a few years earlier. Riding a magnificent horse over flower-strewn, gold-embroidered carpets, greeted by cannonades and cheers, Jem happily confirms the rumour that “the Rhodian women were considered the loveliest in Europe”. It is the sort of detail that brings this obscure character to life, at the same time bringing his plight into sharp focus: the man who might have ruled half the world had nothing better to do than to eye up the local talent, while the world fought over him.

Available at the Books First price of £15.19 plus £2.25 p&p on 0870 165 8585