1921, November 22nd, Tuesday.
The twenty-second of November dawned over Constantinople with a palpable sense of a city, and an Empire, teetering on the edge of a momentous decision. Sultan Murad VII's audacious gambit – forcing the Allied Powers to confront the corruption within their Port Authority administration through the threat of international scandal – had brought them, however reluctantly, to the brink of negotiation. Today, Murad expected their response to his proposal for a joint working group, a proposal that was in itself a demand for a level of partnership the Allies had never before countenanced.
Murad spent the early morning in his study with Grand Vizier Tevfik Pasha and Foreign Minister Reşid Akif Pasha, meticulously reviewing their strategy. "If they agree to the working group," Murad stated, "it is a victory in itself, a clear admission that their previous position was untenable. But the composition of that group, and its mandate, will be crucial. They will try to limit its scope, to fill it with obstructionists. We must be prepared." "Indeed, Your Majesty," Tevfik Pasha agreed. "General Harington, in particular, will seek to undermine any genuine progress. But the pressure from London, Paris, and Rome, fueled by the ongoing press coverage, is our strongest leverage. They need this scandal contained."
Kolağası Esad Bey's intelligence briefing confirmed that the international storm showed no signs of abating. "Your Imperial Majesty," Esad reported, his voice crisp, "the parliamentary debate in the French National Assembly yesterday regarding Monsieur Dubois and the Port Authority was… exceptionally heated. The government faced severe criticism from Socialist and Radical deputies, who produced copies of the initial articles from Le Cri du Peuple. The French Foreign Minister was forced to promise a 'full and transparent internal inquiry' into Dubois's conduct and the broader allegations. In London, several influential newspapers, including the Manchester Guardian and the Daily Chronicle, have now picked up the story, calling for greater accountability in Allied administrations abroad. Questions in Parliament there are becoming more pointed and difficult for the government to evade." Murad nodded. "The fire is spreading. They cannot easily extinguish it with denials now. This will concentrate their minds wonderfully when considering our proposal for the working group."
The Allied response arrived mid-morning, delivered by a stern-faced British diplomatic courier to Reşid Akif Pasha at the Foreign Ministry. It was a terse note, jointly signed by Harington, Pellé, and Garroni. After a brief internal consultation, Reşid Akif brought it directly to Yıldız Palace. "Your Majesty, Your Highness," Reşid Akif announced to Murad and Tevfik, "they have agreed." He read from the note: "'The Allied High Commissions, in the interest of ensuring the continued efficient and transparent administration of the Constantinople Port Authority and addressing the concerns recently raised by the Imperial Ottoman Government, accede to the proposal for the formation of a Joint Working Group. We will nominate our representatives today. We expect this Group to commence its deliberations without delay and to conclude its work within a practical timeframe.'" "'Practical timeframe,'" Murad repeated, a slight smile touching his lips. "Not the three days we implicitly suggested, but they have conceded the principle. And they have not, in this note at least, attempted to pre-limit its mandate. That battle will be fought within the group itself." "Who are their nominees?" Tevfik Pasha asked. "That will be communicated shortly, they state," Reşid Akif replied. "I suspect there was considerable last-minute wrangling amongst them over their choices."
Murad immediately convened his own team for the Joint Working Group. As planned, Cavit Bey, the pugnacious Minister of Finance, would lead the Ottoman delegation. He would be supported by two of his sharpest young auditors, fluent in French and English; a senior legal advisor from the Ministry of Justice, Ahmed Şükrü Bey himself, to ensure all Ottoman proposals were legally sound; and a seasoned diplomat from Reşid Akif's ministry, Saffet Ziya Bey, known for his calm demeanor and sharp negotiating skills. Kolağası Esad Bey's directorate would provide covert background intelligence on the Allied negotiators and monitor for any attempts at subversion. "Cavit Bey," Murad instructed, "your mandate is clear: full access to all past and present Port Authority records for an independent, internationally credible forensic audit. A new, equitable revenue-sharing formula that guarantees the Ottoman Treasury its rightful share. Genuine Ottoman co-management of the Port, with meaningful representation and voting rights on any governing board. And a clear mechanism for the restitution of verifiably misappropriated funds. Do not yield on these core principles. Use the 'Ledger of Lies' judiciously to counter their arguments and expose their deceptions if they attempt to stonewall. You have our full authority." "I will not disappoint Your Majesty," Cavit Bey declared, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination.
The Allied list of representatives arrived by early afternoon. As Murad had anticipated, it was a mixed bag, reflecting the internal tensions among the High Commissioners. The British nominated Colonel Hughes, a notoriously hard-nosed military administrator known to be close to General Harington, and a civilian treasury official, Mr. Davies, reputed to be a stickler for rules but perhaps more pragmatic. The French nominated Monsieur Lacroix, a senior diplomat known for his pragmatism (likely Pellé's choice to contain the Dubois fallout), and a financial expert, Monsieur Dubois himself – an astonishingly brazen move that Murad and his ministers immediately recognized as either extreme French arrogance or a deliberate attempt by Pellé to offer Dubois up as a sacrificial lamb to be discredited by Cavit Bey, thereby absolving the French High Commission of wider responsibility. The Italians nominated Signor Valenti, an experienced economist known to Marquis Garroni, and a younger diplomat, Count Moretti, who was reputed to be ambitious and keen to make his mark.
"Dubois!" Cavit Bey exclaimed with contempt. "They dare to put the very man implicated in sedition on their negotiating team for financial probity? This is either a monumental blunder on Pellé's part, or a calculated insult." "Or perhaps, Cavit Bey," Murad mused, "Pellé intends for you to destroy Dubois in the working group, thereby demonstrating French 'action' against a compromised official without a messy internal inquiry. It could be a gift. Use it wisely."
The first meeting of the Joint Working Group on the Constantinople Port Authority convened late that afternoon in a neutral conference room at the old Ottoman Ministry of Justice, a location chosen to avoid the direct intimidation of any single Allied High Commission headquarters. The atmosphere was thick with tension and barely concealed hostility. Colonel Hughes, the British military administrator, clearly took his cue from General Harington, his demeanor stiff and unyielding. Monsieur Lacroix, the French diplomat, was outwardly courteous but watchful. Signor Valenti, the Italian economist, appeared genuinely interested in finding practical solutions. And Monsieur Dubois, the infamous dragoman, sat with an air of strained nonchalance, a slight smirk playing on his lips, which Cavit Bey noted with cold fury.
Cavit Bey, leading the Ottoman delegation, opened the proceedings by tabling their core demands, as mandated by Murad. He spoke calmly but with unshakeable firmness, outlining the need for transparency, accountability, and genuine partnership. Colonel Hughes immediately objected. "Minister Cavit," he boomed, "your demands are tantamount to a complete dismantling of the existing, efficient Port administration established under Allied supervision. We are here to discuss 'enhancing' procedures, not to facilitate a hostile takeover by the Ottoman government." Mr. Davies, the British treasury official, added, "Furthermore, any discussion of 'restitution for past misappropriations' is entirely premature and speculative until our own internal Allied reviews are complete. We cannot operate on the basis of unsubstantiated allegations." This was the opening Cavit Bey had anticipated. "Unsubstantiated allegations, Mr. Davies?" he replied, his voice like ice. He produced a single, clear photographic copy from his portfolio – one of the most damning pages from the "Ledger of Lies," showing a specific, large payment from Port revenues to a non-existent shell company, with a clear authorizing signature of a known British official on the Port Commission (not Hughes himself, but a close associate). He laid it on the table. "Is this signature 'unsubstantiated,' sir? Is this ledger entry, detailing a payment for which no services were ever rendered, also 'speculative'? I have sixty more pages just like this in my possession, implicating officials from all three Allied administrations currently represented at this table." A stunned silence fell. Colonel Hughes stared at the document, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple. Mr. Davies went pale. Monsieur Lacroix's diplomatic composure faltered for a moment. Signor Valenti leaned forward, peering at the paper with intense interest. And Monsieur Dubois's smirk vanished, replaced by a look of sudden, acute discomfort as he recognized the ledger format. Cavit Bey had drawn first blood, demonstrating that the Ottomans were not merely making vague accusations; they possessed concrete, devastating proof.
The remainder of the meeting was contentious, filled with heated arguments, Allied attempts to discredit the evidence as "isolated incidents" or "misinterpretations," and Cavit Bey's relentless, methodical presentation of further specific examples of corruption whenever they tried to stall or obfuscate. The internal divisions among the Allies also became apparent. Colonel Hughes remained hostile and obstructionist. But Monsieur Lacroix, clearly under pressure from Paris and perhaps seeing an opportunity to limit French damage by cooperating on some fronts, began to ask more pointed questions of his British colleagues regarding their financial controls. Signor Valenti, the Italian, played the role of a concerned neutral, suggesting compromises and transparent processes, clearly with an eye to protecting Italy from the worst of the fallout. Dubois remained largely silent, visibly unnerved.
No concrete agreements were reached by the time the meeting adjourned late in the evening, with a commitment to reconvene the next day. But as Cavit Bey reported to Murad and Tevfik Pasha back at Yıldız Palace, the dynamic had been set. "They are shocked by the specificity of our evidence, Your Majesty," Cavit said, a grim satisfaction in his voice. "Harington's man, Hughes, will continue to fight, but Pellé's man, Lacroix, is looking for a way to contain the damage, and Garroni's man, Valenti, may prove to be a pragmatic, if self-interested, negotiator. Dubois is a broken reed; he knows we have enough on him to ruin him utterly." "You have done well, Cavit Bey," Murad commended him. "You have shown them our resolve and the strength of our position. The negotiations will be arduous, but we are now truly at the table, not merely begging for scraps."
As the day ended, Murad received word from Fevzi Pasha that a full battalion of the Hassa Ordusu, nearly a thousand strong, fully armed with their new rifles and machine guns, had conducted a disciplined route march through several loyal districts of Constantinople that afternoon, culminating in a display of precise drill movements before the Ministry of War. It was not a provocation, but a clear, public statement of emerging Ottoman military capability and order. The crowds had cheered. Allied patrols had observed from a distance, their expressions unreadable. The fight for the Port Authority, and for the soul of his Empire, had moved to the negotiating table. But Murad knew that the strength of his negotiators was directly proportional to the perceived strength – moral, political, and ultimately, military – of the Ottoman state they represented. Each small victory, each step towards internal consolidation, added weight to their words. The game was far from over, but the Ottomans were finally playing with a few cards of their own.