The "Firman" of 1801: Sovereignty, Military Authority, and the Parthenon Marbles

 

The debate over the Parthenon Marbles is frequently framed as a clash between cultural heritage and institutional preservation. At the centre of this controversy lies a single, missing document: the 1801 "firman" granted to Thomas Bruce, the 7th Earl of Elgin. To understand the legitimacy of the British Museum’s collection, one must first understand what this document was, the specific military nature of the site it governed, and the compelling evidence for its historical existence.

What was the "Firman"?

In July 1801, Lord Elgin, serving as British Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, successfully petitioned the Porte for an official decree to allow his team of artists to work on the Acropolis. While the term "firman" is used colloquially today, technically a firman was a decree bearing the Sultan's personal monogram (tugra). The 1801 document was more accurately a vizierial buyuruldı (a formal order) or a mektub (official letter) issued by the Kaimakam, and carried the full weight of the Sultan’s executive power, especially regarding military territories like the Acropolis. The letter was addressed to the highest local authorities in Athens—the Cadi (chief judge) and the Voivode (civil governor).

The Acropolis as a Military Fortress

To view the Acropolis in 1801 as a purely "archaeological site" is a modern anachronism. At the time, the Acropolis was a Kastro—a fortified Ottoman military garrison. It was an active base for the local Ottoman military commander, the Dizdar, and housed soldiers and their families within a village built among the ruins.

Because the Acropolis was a high-security military site, it fell under the direct jurisdiction of the central military command in Constantinople. Specifically, it was subject to the authority of the Grand Vizier, who served as the supreme commander of the Ottoman Army. In his absence (as he was in Egypt fighting the French), this authority was wielded by his deputy, the Kaimakam Seged Abdullah. The permission Elgin sought was not, therefore, a mere civilian permit but a high-level military directive that overrode any objections by the local garrison commander (called a Dizdar), who had previously blocked access to the site.

The Scope of Permission: "Any Pieces of Stone"

The document was intended to end the extortion and obstruction that Elgin’s artists faced from the Dizdar. It granted several specific permissions:

• To enter the Citadel freely and unhindered.

• To erect scaffolding and make plaster moulds of the sculptures.

• To measure the buildings and excavate to find ancient foundations.

• The "Removal" Clause: Most significantly, the decree commanded that should the team choose to "take away any pieces of stone with old inscriptions, and figures, no opposition be made".

Critics often argue that this phrasing was intended only for loose fragments found in the dirt. However, the document was delivered to Athens by an imperial official (the Mubàshir Mehemmed Raschid Aga) specifically dispatched from Constantinople to ensure the local governors complied. Under his supervision, and with the daily involvement of the Voivode, the removal of the friezes and metopes began. The fact that the central government provided an official to oversee the work for over a year indicates that the "carrying away" of sculptures was sanctioned by the state.

Proof of Existence

A primary argument for "deniers" is that the original Ottoman Turkish text has not been found in the Istanbul archives. However, the secondary evidence is overwhelming:

1. The Italian Translation: A contemporary Italian translation of the document, prepared for Elgin’s artists by the British Embassy's dragoman (interpreter), survived in the papers of the Rev. Philip Hunt. Acquired by the British Museum in 2006, this document was analysed by experts who confirmed that the paper was of a type and watermark used by the Ottoman Porte for official translations at that time.

2. Linguistic Back-Translation: Leading Ottomanists, including Professor Edhem Eldem, have observed that when the Italian text is translated back into Ottoman Turkish, the terminology (such as "the Porte of Happiness") and the administrative structure are perfectly consistent with the bureaucratic style of the era.

3. Witness Accounts: Numerous contemporary travellers—some of whom were deeply critical of Elgin’s removals—documented the existence of the order. Edward Dodwell was present when the permission was presented, and John Galt claimed to have seen the original Ottoman document in the Voivode’s archives in 1810.

4. Subsequent Ratification: In 1810 and 1811, as Elgin sought to ship the remaining marbles, the Ottoman government issued further permits for their export. These later documents refer back to the original acquisition, effectively ratifying the 1801 decree and confirming that the state recognised the marbles as Elgin's property.

Rebutting the Deniers

Arguments against the document’s existence typically rely on a misunderstanding of Ottoman record-keeping or a selective reading of history:

• "Missing Documents Equal Non-Existence": The original decree would have been kept by the Voivode of Athens as his authority to allow the work. That archive was largely destroyed during the Greek War of Independence. Furthermore, vizierial letters were not always recorded in the same central registers as Sultanic firmans, making their absence in Istanbul a common occurrence for this class of documents.

• "The Document Was a Forgery": Forging a document that could fool the Cadi, the Voivode, and an imperial Mubàshir on the ground for several years would have been impossible. It would have required a conspiracy involving the entire British Embassy and the Kaimakam’s office.

• "The Kaimakam Lacked Authority": As the Grand Vizier's deputy and the highest official in the capital during a time of war, the Kaimakam held absolute administrative authority over military garrisons, such as the Acropolis. His signature was the legal "gold standard" for such permissions.

In conclusion, the 1801 decree was a valid exercise of sovereign power by the legal authorities of the time. It was issued by the supreme military administration, enforced by imperial couriers, and witnessed by contemporaries. While the original parchment is lost, its historical reality is anchored in a web of diplomatic correspondence, local enforcement, and subsequent legal ratifications confirming, in the most powerful way, that Lord Elgin acted with the full permission of the Ottoman state.

Don't listen to the Greek propaganda, just look at the sources in their historical context and judge for yourself.