Imperial Capital

Architecture at the Dawn of an Empire

Imperial Capital

In 1369, or perhaps even earlier, Turkish Sultan Murad I conquered Hadrianopolis, a strategically located ancient city on European soil, and promptly declared it his capital. This bold move heralded an ambitious plan for further conquests in Europe, setting into motion a chain of fateful events that would alter the course of history. Today, this city is known as Edirne, referred to in Serbian as Jedrene, while its former name, Drinopolje, has entirely faded into obscurity.

For the next nine decades, a pivotal period for the burgeoning empire, Edirne served as its capital. It was an era marked by victories and defeats, court secrets and intrigues, duplicitous alliances, and treacherous betrayals. By the time Constantinople was finally conquered and declared the new capital, the Ottoman Empire had already transformed into a formidable military power. The conquest of Europe had shifted from a distant fantasy to a palpable threat to Western civilization.

The sultans of Edirne, though relatively modest in their early days, richly repaid the city that nurtured their burgeoning empire by constructing significant edifices. Even after the court relocated to Istanbul, they continued to spend part of the year in Edirne, fueling the city’s architectural development as long as there was money to lavish. Nowhere else in the world is there such a concentration of grand, culturally and architecturally significant buildings as in the center of Edirne. In the central urban area, one can witness some of the most impressive examples of buildings that characterized the empire at its zenith. A stroll among the city’s many bazaars, hammams, hans (inns), and bridges evokes the charms of a bygone era. However, it’s the three grand imperial mosques, spaced 200-300 meters apart, that truly steal the spotlight. Each mosque was constructed with the most advanced knowledge of its era. By comparing them, one can discern the key phases in the development of the classical Ottoman style, which reached its pinnacle of perfection by the late 16th century.

The Old Mosque

The oldest among them is simply called the Eski (Old) Mosque. Its construction began during one of the most challenging periods in Turkish history, in 1403, and was completed in 1422 after numerous delays caused by a chaotic civil war in which Sultan Bayezid’s sons fought for supremacy. The construction was initiated by one of these sons, Süleyman Çelebi, and was completed by the eventual victor, Sultan Mehmed I.

Edirne 2024, Eski (old) Mosque

The greatest structural challenge in constructing dome structures lies in the horizontal forces that manifest at the dome supports. It’s essential to note that during that era, builders did not fully comprehend the nature of these forces, and the concept of force itself had yet to be defined. Consequently, they were relegated to trial and error, cautiously increasing the diameter of domes and experimenting with various methods to counter these forces. The most obvious method involved the sheer massiveness of the perimeter walls and supports, which, solely through their weight, managed to subdue the horizontal forces. However, a more ingenious option presented itself: the placement of multiple domes side by side effectively canceled out the horizontal forces. This was precisely the approach taken in the construction of the Eski Mosque. In a bid to accommodate more worshippers under one roof, the designer arranged nine domes in three rows of three, ensuring that all horizontal forces nullified each other except those acting on the outer walls. Naturally, in these areas, the designer opted for massive supports. Thus, the four internal columns were, as a precaution, oversized, even though they were only subjected to compression. Nevertheless, this construction method lent additional grandeur to the entire edifice, particularly accentuated by the colossal calligraphic motifs adorning the columns and walls. This construction style is sometimes referred to as the “Bursa type” in Turkey, stemming from experiences gained during the construction of the magnificent Ulu Cami (the Grand Mosque) in Bursa. It’s worth noting that in Bursa, approximately the same amount of interior space is covered by twenty domes, whereas in Edirne, only nine domes are used. This reflects the confidence gained in tackling larger architectural spans. Above the entrance gates, there is an inscription bearing the name of the architect of this mosque, Haci Alaeddin of Konya.

Edirne 2024, Eski (old) Mosque, the interior

Üç Şerefeli Mosque (The Three-Balcony Mosque)

In close proximity to the Eski Mosque stands another monumental imperial mosque, completed in 1447, commissioned by Sultan Murad II and known as Üç Şerefeli. Our discussion on the distribution of horizontal forces from domes led us to an insight: the central dome’s diameter could surpass that of its counterparts, as the neighboring smaller domes would assist in absorbing a substantial portion of its horizontal forces. This fundamental idea would guide further development in the design of classical Ottoman mosques, and it was exemplified in the design of the Üç Şerefeli Mosque. Regarded as a pivotal milestone in Turkish architecture for many of its features, this mosque boasts a central dome spanning 24 meters, the largest achieved in the Ottoman Empire up to that time. Within the mosque precinct, there is a closed courtyard with a şadırvan, or a central fountain, while four minarets grace its corners, setting a standard for direct sultanic endowments. One of these minarets, the tallest ever built in the Empire at the time, features three galleries, and hence the mosque’s name –  “Üç Şerefeli,” meaning “three balconies” in Turkish. These galleries, lending the minarets a remarkably elegant appearance, would also become a standard feature in large imperial mosques. Regrettably, the name of the architect behind this innovative mosque remains unrecorded.

Edrine 2024, Under the grand dome of the Üç Şerefeli Mosque

The Ottoman Empire, as everyone knows, was an absolute monarchy. The Sultan held all rights with no constraints, and the main political battle revolved around who would wield the greatest influence over him and his decisions. The Üç Şerefeli Mosque became the battleground for such an ideological confrontation. When Sultan Mehmed II (later known as the Conqueror) ascended to power at the tender age of twelve, a group of Hurufi dervishes grew very close to him, and it seemed they would take advantage of his youth and curiosity to mold him with their ideas. Their teachings, inspired by Kabbalah and Pythagoreanism, were grounded in mystical interpretations of numbers and words from sacred texts. This was seen as a significant threat by the influential politician Mahmud Angelović who orchestrated their condemnation and they were burned alive in the courtyard of the Üç Şerefeli Mosque. However, the Hurufi dervishes managed to impart some of their teachings to the Bektashi dervishes, whose subsequent influence in the Balkans was highly significant, persisting in some parts of Albania and Kosovo to this day.

Years later, Mahmud Angelović himself fell victim to court intrigue and was killed on the order of Sultan Mehmed the Conqueror, his great friend.

Edrine 2024, The courtyard of the Üç Şerefeli Mosque

The Selimiye Mosque

Of all the grand mosques in Edirne, none holds as much renown as the Selimiye Mosque. Constructed between 1569 and 1579, it was commissioned by Sultan Selim II, known as “The Drunkard,” who unfortunately succumbed to alcohol before its completion.

The mosque’s architect, the illustrious Sinan Mimar, acclaimed as the greatest Ottoman architect, as well as one of the preeminent architects in the world,  took immense pride in this project, deeming it his masterpiece. Throughout his career, Sinan had perfected the techniques for managing the horizontal forces exerted by domes. He realized that only half of a dome was necessary to handle these forces and developed the technique of cascading domes. This concept was already beautifully demonstrated in his earlier work on the Süleymaniye Mosque in Istanbul. Compared to this highly successful project, Sinan further refined his design for the Selimiye Mosque in Edirne, bringing the classical Ottoman style to its zenith.

I suppose that one reason for his pride was the placement of the four minarets at the corners of the central building rather than at the corners of the courtyard, as seen in the Süleymaniye. This achieved a central symmetry and elegance, breaking with the tradition set by the minaret arrangement of the Üç Şerefeli Mosque.

Interestingly, three decades later, Sinan’s pupil, the Albanian architect Sedefkar Mehmed Aga, attempted to reconcile these design philosophies in his project for the spectacular Sultan Ahmed Mosque (the “Blue Mosque”) in Istanbul. He incorporated six minarets, creating a visually stunning and harmonious design, which remains impressive today. However, this decision sparked significant ideological controversy, preventing its repetition in the Ottoman Empire.

Edirne 2024, the Selimiye Mosque under reconstruction

Sinan believed that the diameter of the Selimiye Mosque’s dome was greater than that of the Hagia Sophia. He must have received incomplete information, as later measurements disproved this claim. It turned out that the Hagia Sophia’s dome was not built over a perfect circle, but rather over a slight ellipse, so its average diameter exceeds that of the Selimiye by a few centimeters.

The four identical minarets, each with three galleries modeled after the Üç Şerefeli, were the tallest in the world at the time of their construction. In Turkey, they remained the tallest until just a quarter-century ago. In fact, if there’s anything to criticize about this mosque, it’s the disproportionate height of its minarets.

Currently, only a small part of the Selimiye Mosque is open to visitors as it undergoes reconstruction, which is expected to be completed by 2025.

Grand Viziers and Their Endowments

The contribution of Balkan Slavs during the formation and full development of the Ottoman Empire was enormous and often decisive. Initially, military leaders like Stefan Lazarević and Marko Kraljević stood out, but the subtle influence of advisors, court lobbyists, and politicians from our regions became even more effective as the Empire reached its zenith.

It is well known that Sultan Mehmed the Conqueror spoke Serbian fluently; it was his mother tongue in the truest sense, as his mother was Serbian. Interestingly, the mother of his greatest rival, the last Byzantine emperor, Constantine XI, was also Serbian. After Mehmed’s mother had passed away, Sultana Mara Branković took care of him, becoming his primary advisor when he ascended to the throne. As a Christian woman in the highest position, she played a significant role in appointing the Ecumenical Patriarch and tirelessly advocated for Ottoman interests in the Balkan countries. It’s likely that, among other factors, her efforts played a part in securing a privileged status of Orthodox Christians in the Ottoman Empire.

During the reign of Suleiman the Magnificent, people from our regions were appointed to the position of Grand Vizier, the highest administrative post. First was Rustem Opuković, a politician of Croatian descent, who served as Grand Vizier for a remarkably long time until his death. Not only did he consolidate state finances, but he also amassed great personal wealth. He was succeeded by Semiz Ali Pasha, of Bosnian origin, who died after four years of successful rule. Then came Sokollu Mehmed Pasha, the statesman from the prominent Serbian Sokolović family. After Suleiman’s death, through skilled maneuvering, he managed to place his favorites on the throne twice – inept sultans who did not interfere in governance, thus effectively allowing Sokolović to independently rule one of the world’s largest empires. His main rival was his cousin, Lala Kara Mustafa Pasha, the ruthless conqueror of Cyprus. Mehmed Sokolović adeptly leveraged his position, often to his own benefit, accumulating substantial riches.

Edirne 2024

High-ranking officials in the Ottoman Empire, including the grand viziers, were obligated to invest their considerable wealth in public infrastructure. Figures like Rustem-Pasha Opuković, Semiz Ali-Pasha Pračić, and Mehmed-Pasha Sokolović financed significant projects in Edirne, always enlisting the renowned court architect Sinan Mimar to oversee their realization.

One of the most striking endeavors was Rustem-Pasha’s caravanserai with two atria, completed in 1561 near the Old Mosque. The caravanserai was restored for hotel use in 1972 and even received the internationally esteemed Aga Khan Award for Architecture. However, initially, it didn’t operate successfully as a hotel. Top of Form

Bottom of Form

While historic hans in Turkey are occasionally converted into hotels as their past attracts tourists, meeting modern hospitality standards within these ancient structures proves challenging, catering to a niche clientele. However, after subsequent renovations, Rustem-Pasha’s caravanserai now thrives. The larger of its two courtyards is even leased to Starbucks. I believe this transformation would have pleased Rustem-Pasha, who, as a politician, was primarily focused on the economy.

Across from the Uç Şerefeli Mosque stands the hammam of Mehmed-Pasha Sokolović. It features two separate sections, for men and women, while the part where auxiliary rooms used to be was pulled down at one time to allow for the street widening.  The hammam was operational until recently, but it is currently closed, undergoing reconstruction. There’s a modest han connected to it, repurposed into a hotel, also commissioned by Mehmed Sokolović and designed by Sinan Mimar. Breakfast is served in the hammam’s courtyard.

Two bedestens, or covered bazaars, lie at the city center. Here, trade continues much as it did centuries ago. One of the bazaars, the Ali-Pasha Bazaar, which was established in 1565, is the legacy of Semiz Ali-Pasha, a grand vizier hailing from Bosnia. Comprising a covered passage around 270 meters long, lined with shops on both sides, this bazaar follows the traditional Turkish concept known as “arasta.” Several entrances lead into the bazaar, with a life-sized seated figure of the architect, once again – Sinan, greeting visitors at one of them.

The Edirne Bridges

The city of Edirne is situated at a geographically interesting spot where the Tundzha river meanders to create a semicircular arc. It then flows parallel to the Maritsa River for a while before joining it at an acute(sharp) angle. For this reason, starting from the 15th century, a whole series of classical Ottoman stone bridges over the Tundzha and Maritsa were built. These bridges are highly esteemed among connoisseurs. By that time, the art of constructing stone bridges had become fully standardized, so they are all similar to each other. Even Sinan Mimar, who designed one of the smaller bridges over the Tundzha, had nothing new to add.

Edirne 2024, the Gazi Mihal Bridge, 15th century

Each of these bridges represents a masterpiece, but for real delight, you should head about fifty kilometers south towards Gallipoli to a city that is literally called the Long Bridge, or Uzunköprü in Turkish.

There, you find the world’s longest stone bridge, built in the 15th century according to the design of the then court architect Muslihiddin. The bridge, an outstanding example of classic Ottoman style, spans the swampy valley of the Ergene River. It was designed to speed up the movement of troops between Europe and Asia Minor, which was a vital factor for the survival of the Empire. Compared to a similar bridge in Višegrad, this one is almost eight times longer and at least a hundred years older. After more than five centuries of exploitation, it is currently undergoing reconstruction.

Foreign tourists still rarely visit Edirne, but this will change once the high-speed railway that links it to Istanbul is completed, along with the reconstruction of the Selimiye Mosque and Uzunköprü Long Bridge. The city might even become a new hotspot for mass tourism, which would initiate changes that, generally, signify progress. However, this would also mean the gradual disappearance of the atmosphere of the old Balkans, with its stylistically perfect yet dilapidating wooden houses, trash heaps right behind culturally and historically significant monuments, and other tremendous contrasts that I will not even try to describe.

Darko Veselinović, May 2024