The Tanzimat Reforms: Ottoman Attempts at Modernization
- Davit Grigoryan
- Oct 17
- 11 min read
By the mid-19th century, the Ottoman Empire seemed to stand on a narrow bridge between the past and the future. Behind it lay the splendor of the sultans’ centuries — the familiar order of the palace and the divan. Ahead stretched Europe, with its steam engines, government ministries, railways, and disciplined armies.

What had once seemed a firm foundation — military strength, tax systems, and old channels of influence — now creaked and faltered at every turn. The Empire, which had once set the rules across the Balkans and the Eastern Mediterranean, was increasingly falling behind in military skill, state revenues, and administrative precision compared to those it had long viewed as rivals — and sometimes even as students.
It was at this very point of uncertainty that a realization began to take shape: the empire could not be saved by the rituals of the past, but only through the surgery of change. Tanzimat — meaning “reorganization” or “ordering” — was conceived not as a decoration for an aging façade, but as an attempt to strengthen the very foundation: to protect the lives and property of subjects, to systematize taxation, and to bring justice and education in line with the demands of the new era.
It was a risky step on that narrow bridge — to move forward without severing ties with tradition, and to make reform a cure rather than a death sentence for the state.
Historical Context: The Empire Before the Reforms
By the early 19th century, the Ottoman Empire — once formidable and unshakable — had lost much of its former glory and confidence. Its vast territories, stretching from the Balkans to Arabia, had grown loose and poorly connected. Provinces increasingly acted as independent principalities, while the sultan’s authority often extended no further than the walls of the Topkapi Palace.
Corruption, abuses of power by local beys and pashas, and an inefficient tax system were steadily undermining the empire’s finances. Where once the disciplined army of the Janissaries had thundered across battlefields, now stood units that resembled guilds more than a true fighting force.

The empire’s economy, too, had fallen into stagnation. Trade routes that were once prosperous and bustling had shifted in favor of the European powers. Venice, Genoa, and later Great Britain took control of maritime transport, while Ottoman merchants increasingly yielded their place to foreign intermediaries.
An industry still rooted in traditional craftsmanship could no longer compete with the efficiency of European manufactories. Budget deficits became a chronic condition, and debts to European bankers turned into a constant burden on the state.
The Napoleonic Wars dealt a particularly devastating blow. Bonaparte’s Egyptian campaign exposed just how vulnerable the empire had become in the face of modern European military technology and organization. Even attempts at alliances with Russia or Britain brought no real stability — instead, they deepened the empire’s dependence on the foreign policies of the great powers.
Each diplomatic concession, each lost treaty — from Küçük Kaynarca to Adrianople — chipped away at its sovereignty. The Ottoman sultans, once accustomed to dictating terms, now found themselves forced to take advice from foreign ambassadors.
But perhaps the most alarming decay was within the very system of power. The Divan, once the heart of wise governance, had turned into an arena for the struggles of courtly factions. The old military elite — the Janissaries — had become a conservative force, resisting any kind of change.
While Europe was learning to balance budgets and build railways, the empire continued to rely on outdated systems of administration and taxation. Yet, the first Ottoman intellectuals began to emerge — men who saw the danger of stagnation and called for reform. Among them stood out Mustafa Reşid Pasha, a man who understood that without systemic transformation, the Ottoman Empire was doomed.
By the middle of the century, it had become clear that the issue was no longer about preserving status — it was about survival. External pressure, military defeats, and growing unrest among the peoples of the Balkans and Anatolia all demanded a new course. The empire had to rethink its very identity, abandoning rigid traditionalism and attempting to build a state capable of speaking to Europe as an equal.
Out of this crisis emerged the era of the Tanzimat — a series of reforms that would become the empire’s last great attempt to breathe life into an aging power.
The Beginning of Tanzimat: The Hatt-ı Şerif of Gülhane (1839)
On November 15, 1839, in the gardens of the imperial palace of Gülhane, an event took place that would become a symbol of the Ottoman Empire’s new course. Before high officials, diplomats, and members of the clergy, a document was read aloud — the Hatt-ı Şerif of Gülhane, an imperial decree that marked the beginning of the Tanzimat era.
The young Sultan Abdülmecid I proclaimed the decree, but his advisor and mentor, Mustafa Reşid Pasha — a Western-educated diplomat and firm advocate of modernization — truly shaped and directed the reforms.

The Hatt-ı Şerif sought to establish new principles of governance in a state long governed by religious and class-based traditions. The document began by acknowledging that corruption and arbitrariness had undermined justice and prosperity throughout the empire. The sultan pledged to restore order and guarantee protection for all his subjects — regardless of faith or social origin.
The text proclaimed the inviolability of life and property, the need for fair taxation, and the establishment of an honest judiciary — one based not on bribes or personal connections, but on the rule of law. It was a truly revolutionary declaration for an empire where, until then, justice had been defined by religious courts and the whims of officials.
Mustafa Reşid Pasha, who had served as ambassador in London and Paris, understood well that without systemic reform, the Ottoman Empire could not survive in a world already governed by modern principles of bureaucracy, law, and economics. He drew inspiration from European models but never sought to imitate them blindly. His goal was to create a “new order” that would unite Islamic traditions of justice with contemporary ideas of statehood.
In Reşid Pasha’s view, reform did not contradict faith — on the contrary, it was meant to restore government to its moral foundations.
The Hatt-ı Şerif of Gülhane was more than a legal decree — it was a manifesto of change. It declared that from now on, the law must stand above personal interests, and the state must protect every subject — whether Muslim, Christian, or Jew.
For the first time, the idea of citizen equality was voiced — a notion that seemed bold, even dangerous, to the old elite. For some, it became a ray of hope; for others, a sign of the impending end of the world they had always known.
Nevertheless, the reaction to the decree was restrained. Many saw it as a fine-sounding declaration, doubting that real change would ever follow. Yet the very act of its proclamation transformed the atmosphere within the empire: for the first time in generations, people heard talk not only of duties, but of rights.
From that day onward, the Ottoman Empire entered the era of the Tanzimat — a time when reform ceased to be merely an idea and became a matter of state necessity.
Main Directions of the Reforms
After the proclamation of the Hatt-ı Şerif of Gülhane, a long and difficult process of reform began — one that would unfold over decades. The Tanzimat was not merely a series of decrees, but a genuine attempt to rebuild the entire organism of the state — its army, administration, judiciary, education, and economy.
In every sphere, the Ottoman Empire sought a fragile balance between East and West, between tradition and modernity.
Military reforms were among the first and most urgent measures. The experience of defeats in wars against Russia and Austria had revealed that the old army could no longer compete with the European powers. After the destruction of the Janissary corps in 1826, efforts began to create a new type of regular army — disciplined, trained according to European regulations, and equipped with modern weaponry.

Military academies were established, where officers received education modeled after French and Prussian schools. The navy, too, underwent development: steamships were built in the shipyards of Istanbul and Izmir, and by the 1840s, the Ottoman Empire possessed one of the largest fleets in the Eastern Mediterranean.
Administrative reforms aimed to put an end to the chaos and overlapping powers that plagued the provinces. The empire was reorganized into new administrative units — vilayets — which were no longer controlled by local beys but by governors appointed directly from the central government.
Councils were established — a kind of local parliament — that included both Muslims and non-Muslims, reinforcing the principle of equality among subjects. For the first time, a ministerial structure was created, dividing the functions of governance into departments of finance, justice, defense, and education. In this way, the old Divan gave way to a modern bureaucracy.
Legal reforms played a crucial role. Whereas laws had previously been based primarily on Sharia, new secular norms were now introduced. New courts, independent of religious authorities, were established to handle civil and criminal cases.
In 1856, the Hatt-ı Hümayun was issued — a decree that enshrined the principle of equality for all citizens before the law, regardless of religion. This marked a true turning point in the empire’s mindset, even though, in practice, the implementation of these principles often faced strong resistance.
Educational reforms were no less significant. The reformers understood that a renewed state was impossible without new, educated personnel. Schools of the European type began to open, teaching not only religious subjects but also mathematics, geography, history, and physics. In Istanbul, the first secular lyceums and teacher-training institutes appeared.
Special attention was given to the translation and publication of Western scientific works, allowing Ottoman students to engage with modern knowledge. Gradually, a new class of educated professionals emerged — officials, engineers, doctors, and teachers — capable of thinking in terms of rational governance.
Economic reforms aimed to revive trade and eliminate financial chaos. The tax system was standardized, old feudal obligations were abolished, and uniform monetary taxes were introduced. The government sought to stimulate domestic trade, build roads and ports, and encourage private enterprise.
By the mid-century, the first banks had begun to appear, and in 1856 the Imperial Ottoman Bank was established — an institution partly controlled by French and British capital.
All these reforms did not happen at once or uniformly — they advanced slowly and often met with resistance. Yet it was precisely these changes that gave the Ottoman Empire its new face. The Tanzimat became an era when the state first began to see itself not only as the guardian of tradition but also as a participant in Europe’s shared path toward modernization.
Resistance and Contradictions of Tanzimat
Despite the reformers’ good intentions, the Tanzimat era became a time of sharp contradictions. The reforms, conceived as a step toward the empire’s revival, instead exposed deep fractures within its society. They faced not only external challenges but also strong internal resistance — from those who saw in these changes a threat to their familiar way of life and to religious traditions.
The main opponents of the reforms were the traditionalists and the clergy. To them, the idea of equality between Muslims and non-Muslims seemed not merely a mistake, but a blasphemy. For centuries, Islamic law had upheld the privileged position of Muslims within society, and now the sultan, the “shadow of God on earth,” was declaring that all subjects were equal before the law. This appeared to undermine the very foundation of the empire, which rested on the religious legitimacy of its authority.

The ulema accused the reformers of imitating the infidels and betraying the teachings of the Prophet. Even among the educated elite, some warned that excessive imitation of Europe would lead to the loss of the empire’s spiritual core.
No less resistance came from the old bureaucracy. The creation of new ministries, centralized administration, transparent finances, and regular reporting undermined the traditional sources of income for officials accustomed to bribes and favoritism. For many pashas and beys, the Tanzimat meant the end of their independence.
In the provinces, officials often sabotaged orders from Istanbul, and as a result, many of the reforms that looked promising on paper remained little more than good intentions.
At the same time, the reforms gave rise to new social expectations. Christians and Jews, encouraged by the promise of equality, began to demand greater participation in governance, which in turn deepened the anxiety of the Muslim majority. Across the Balkans, national movements gained fresh momentum: peoples who had once seen the sultan only as a ruler now began to envision the possibility of independence.
Thus, instead of strengthening imperial unity, the Tanzimat inadvertently awakened a sense of national identity among the empire’s subjects.
The contradictions deepened further because of the empire’s growing dependence on Europe. The great powers — especially France and Great Britain — actively supported the reforms, but their support came at a cost: economic and political concessions. The Ottoman Empire was increasingly turning into an object of foreign influence.
European advisors helped establish banks and legal codes, but with their guidance came rising financial dependence, mounting foreign debt, and a government whose decisions were more and more shaped by the pressure of foreign embassies.
As a result, the Tanzimat became an era of half-measures and compromises. It changed the language of power but never fully transformed its essence. The state, striving to become modern, found itself trapped between the past and the future.
For some, the reforms symbolized hope; for others, they marked the loss of faith and tradition. This very inner conflict — the desire to renew without betraying oneself — became the central drama of the Tanzimat era.
Results and Legacy of the Tanzimat Era
The Tanzimat era ended without grand victories, yet its consequences were profound. The reforms failed to save the Ottoman Empire from decline, but they transformed it from within, laying the foundations for a new, more modern state.
Their influence extended far beyond the 19th century — shaping politics, culture, law, and even the very understanding of what it meant to be a citizen.
The main achievement of the Tanzimat lay in the creation of a new administrative and legal system. For the first time, the empire acquired a structure resembling the European model of the modern state. Ministries were established, taxation was standardized, and courts were centralized. Much of this later became the foundation for the young Turkish Republic.

At the same time, a new Ottoman bureaucracy emerged — educated officials shaped by the spirit of rational governance rather than personal patronage.
On the social level, the Tanzimat introduced the idea of civil equality — imperfect, yet revolutionary for a multiethnic empire. The equality of Muslims and non-Muslims, proclaimed in the Hatt-ı Hümayun of 1856, challenged the traditional hierarchical structure of society for the first time.
This shift gave rise to new concepts — citizen, law, and human rights. Though these ideas were never fully realized, they set the course toward the eventual establishment of a constitutional monarchy.
In 1876, just a few decades after the reforms began, the first Ottoman Constitution was adopted — the direct outcome of the ideas born during the Tanzimat era. It established a parliament, proclaimed civil rights, and placed limits on the sultan’s authority.
Although the constitution was soon suspended, its very existence marked a crucial step in the political evolution of the empire.
However, the Tanzimat also had a darker side. The reforms deepened the empire’s financial dependence on Europe, leading to a growing foreign debt and the loss of economic sovereignty. Moreover, the promises of equality and justice failed to halt the disintegration of the multiethnic state; on the contrary, they awakened national movements that would eventually lead to the independence of the Balkan peoples.
Nevertheless, the significance of the Tanzimat cannot be measured solely by its successes or failures. It became a bridge between the old and the new world — a time when the empire first made a conscious effort to modernize, and its elite began to see themselves through the eyes of Europe.
The reforms of the Tanzimat did not save the Ottoman Empire, but they prepared the ground for the birth of Turkey — a nation that, in the 20th century, would bring to life the very ideals first conceived in the gardens of Gülhane.



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