Mapping the Vanished Han Networks of Bosnia: The Use of GIS to Visualize Local Road Systems in an Ottoman Context

Previous articleNext article FreeIn an Ottoman Holy Land: The Hajj and the Road from Damascus, 1500–1800Nir ShafirNir ShafirUniversity of California, San Diego Search for more articles by this author Full TextPDF Add to favoritesDownload CitationTrack CitationsPermissionsReprints Share onFacebookTwitterLinked InRedditEmailQR Code SectionsMoreThis is the story of a holy land in the Middle East—but not the one you might expect. Cities like Jerusalem and Mecca might quickly come to mind, but Damascus was the key to the creation of an Ottoman holy land between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, because Damascus was the gateway to the hajj. As a recent flurry of museum exhibits reminds us, the hajj—that is, the pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina—has been a well-established part of Muslim religiosity for centuries.1 The Ottoman dynasty also celebrated the hajj's importance over the six centuries of its rule, even if no sultan personally undertook the journey.2 Yet the hajj's aura of timeless sanctity also hinders scholars from understanding its historicity. How did the hajj complement and compete with other forms of Muslim religiosity, such as saint worship/Sufism? Can we speak of an "Ottoman" hajj, and what significance did this pilgrimage carry for the many non-Muslim subjects of the empire? Approaching the hajj from the shrines of Damascus, no longer so holy today, rather than Mecca and Jerusalem's hallowed sites, allows us to scratch away a bit of the gilding of enduring holiness and find a history of choices and contingencies, controversies and contestations.3I argue in this article that between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries an Ottoman holy land emerged that comprised the traditional sanctuaries of Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem, as well as the lands of greater Syria. Following the conquest of the Arab lands in the early sixteenth century, the Ottoman dynasty turned Damascus into both the center of an Ottoman imperial cult around the grave of the medieval theosophist Ibn ʿArabī and the empire's primary logistical hub for the hajj in response to the challenges of its religious and political competitors. As tens of thousands of Rūmī—that is, Turkish-speaking—pilgrims used the new infrastructure to stream into and through Damascus, the hajj also became an extended pilgrimage to visit the numerous tombs of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt. Non-Muslims too began to use the same infrastructure to partake in their own pilgrimage to Jerusalem and its environs, which they also referred to as the hajj. These overlapping claims to the hajj brought Rūmīs, Arabs, Christians, and others into competition and collaboration over the significance of the Ottoman holy land.As the logistical hub for the hajj, Damascus offers a view onto how religion was shaped by the forms of mobility available at the time, especially due to the development of material infrastructure. I take inspiration from recent scholarship, specifically that on the hajj, that has emphasized how new technologies of travel, such as steam and jet power, transformed Muslim religiosity by expanding its geographical horizons in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.4 These works, with their focus on modern technologies, refrain from commenting on the premodern period, yet their insights can be applied to early modern forms of mobility. An unexpected complement to these studies is the recent book by James Grehan on everyday religion in greater Syria during the early modern period. He argues that an "agrarian religion" centered on saint worship flourished in rural parts of the Middle East among both Muslim and Christian communities. Although not explicitly framed as such, Grehan's argument is about mobility and materiality. According to Grehan, a shared religious practice of saint worship emerged from the timeless patterns of rural life and the inability of the "high" Islam of scholars and jurists to move into the countryside. Only the technological and infrastructural transformations of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries delivered the shocks needed to dismantle the material conditions underpinning saint worship, bring the high tradition of legalistic Islam to all areas, and make Muslim and Christian peasants realize that they belonged to distinct religious traditions.5 Grehan deserves credit for pushing scholars to pay attention to the difference between urban and rural religious life in the early modern Middle East. However, we should not assume, as Grehan does, that increased circulation inevitably homogenizes devotional practice and obliterates saint worship.6 As Nile Green has demonstrated, modern technologies like steamships and steam-powered printing presses actually fed a florescence of religious practices centered on saintly miracles.7 Moreover, I disagree with Grehan's presumption that premodern Ottoman society, even in rural areas, was static and immobile. People (and objects) traveled on camels, horses, and on foot rather than on steamships and trains, but the empire was always on the move, and these movements redefined its religious landscape. While the mode in which people traveled remained largely the same, there were particular circuits and forms of mobility unique to the Ottoman Empire; the road from Damascus was one of these.The second part of this article's argument is that the regime of circulation built on the road from Damascus gave rise to a specifically "Ottoman" lived religion in general and a shared culture of pilgrimage in particular. The hajj became a central component of the lived religion of many of the Ottoman Empire's inhabitants, Muslim and non-Muslim. Christian subjects of the empire, for example, came to refer to their pilgrimage to Jerusalem as the hajj, even integrating the honorific hajji—that is, someone who completed the hajj—into their names and titles. Asking how the hajj became "Ottoman," in turn, opens a number of related questions for the study of religion. How did the Ottoman hajj differ from earlier iterations, given that the ritual itself did not change? What is the role of the state in the creation of common religious practices? And how does the religious practice of one community—in this case, the Muslim practice of pilgrimage—come to be a shared aspect of the lived religion of a diverse and multiconfessional early modern empire?To speak of an "Ottoman" hajj also requires probing the analytical valence of the word "Ottoman." In its most restricted sense, the word applies only to the actions of the ruling dynasty, the eponymous house of Osman. In the early modern period, the word was used largely in this limited sense, both by the dynasty itself and its observers. Modern historians, however, employ a more expansive definition of "Ottoman," in which the word is a blanket term that applies to anything and everything that occurred within the empire's boundaries. Moreover, many implicitly extend this idea conceptually and assume that every subject within the empire's boundaries also possessed a shared "Ottoman" mentality or culture, which in turn drove their political and intellectual choices.8 The mechanisms for the dissemination of a common Ottoman culture or mentality are rarely articulated, however. Most often, historians point to the actions of the state as creating an Ottoman culture. For example, the sociologist Karen Barkey argues that the Ottoman state intentionally promoted a policy of religious tolerance, one that broke from earlier and supposedly narrower iterations of Islam.9 Even if we accept Barkey's assertions of a state policy of ecumenicalism, they do not necessarily help explain how cultural practices like the hajj came to be shared by all the empire's subjects at the community or individual level. Like many premodern empires, the Ottoman government did not attempt to homogenize its diverse population under a single imagined culture. While the state actively intervened in the daily religious practices of Muslims and the institutional structure of Islamic law, it never contemplated the creation of shared "Ottoman" religious practices among its subjects.10 How then did the hajj become "Ottoman"?To understand how the hajj became a practice that left its mark on nearly all Ottoman subjects, we have to rethink our understandings of empire. Historians today, especially those focusing on the Ottomans, have often understood empire to be a set of institutions that govern by replicating or projecting the rules and culture of the imperial center onto its provinces.11 In other words, empire is regarded as a synonym for the state. Other scholars highlight the inherent social diversity of empires, using empire largely as a foil to the linguistic, ethnic, or religious homogeneity of the nation-state.12 I treat empire differently in this article. I see empire as a specific assemblage or network of heterogenous human and nonhuman actors connected in myriad relationships.13 The specific elements of the network, and their arrangement, varied in time and place. Thus, the "Ottoman" hajj was different from the "Mamluk" hajj, for example, not because the ritual radically differed but because it brought together an alternate set of material and social elements: the movement of Rūmī Muslims to the Arab provinces, the kilns of Iznik and Kütahya that produced the empire's ceramics, and especially the lines of pilgrim infrastructure centered in Damascus, among others. The shared "Ottoman" culture of the hajj was not the intentional construction by the state but an unintentional by-product of the interaction of these elements, a network that could only have existed with the empire's expansion and sustained presence.14This article traces the network that brought about the creation of an Ottoman hajj and holy land. Damascus functions not as the site of a fine-grained local study but as a gateway that illuminates the various connections streaming through it. My argument brings together a constellation of actors, both human and nonhuman, that connect to form a larger picture. Moreover, since I focus on the transformation of what Nancy Ammerman has termed "lived religion," I draw the reader's attention to the creation of an Ottoman pilgrimage culture from everyday practices rather than in theological works.15 The article jumps from Egypt to Hungary and the many places in-between, but it begins with the Ottoman Empire's conquest of Damascus in 1516, which first provided the Ottoman dynasty the possibility of administering the hajj. The centrality of the hajj in Ottoman religious life was far from assured, however, in these initial years. I situate the dynasty's first operations in Damascus in a wide array of other forms of state-sponsored Muslim religiosity available to the dynasty, such as the creation of a set of imperially sponsored saintly tombs. I then turn to the Ottoman state's eventual commitment to the hajj and its massive investment in the physical and textual infrastructure of pilgrimage. The hajj became progressively important in the daily lives of Rūmī Muslims from the empire's heartland, and it even expanded to incorporate visitation to tombs and shrines. Christians too used the same infrastructure to turn their pilgrimage to Jerusalem into what they themselves referred to as the hajj. The last section examines how this network led to a shared Ottoman culture of the hajj and also to competing claims by Arabs, Rūmīs, and Christians as to who could define the Ottoman holy land.Holy Lands, Old and NewUpon his return to Damascus, fresh from the victories against the Mamluks in 1517, Sultan Selim I (r. 1512–20) set out immediately to thank a saint.16 The sultan seems to have attributed his victory to the omens and intercession of Ibn ʿArabī (1165–1240)—an Andalusia-born Sufi theorist whom the Ottomans believed had prophesized the rise of the dynasty in a pseudepigraphic work, Al-Shajara al-nuʿmāniyya—and thus decided to build an imperial tomb at the site. Sultan Selim ordered that the residences, bathhouses, and an already standing mosque in the Ṣāliḥiyya neighborhood be bought from their owners and quickly demolished. Within three months, a congregational mosque had been erected around the tomb of Ibn ʿArabī.Even today, Ibn ʿArabī is a notorious figure. Thanks to his pantheistic theories of the unity of being (waḥdat al-wujūd), he is regarded as either the greatest Sufi master or the master of the infidels.17 The residents of Damascus, however, knew little of Ibn ʿArabī before the Ottomans' entry. Despite the fact that it had been well known that he had died in the city, travelers who sought out his grave state that it was being used as a rubbish dump in the fourteenth century. In 1499, one apparently had to scale the wall of a bathhouse in order to access the neglected graveyard housing Ibn ʿArabī's unvisited tomb.18 Other observers, such as Ibn Ṭūlūn (d. 1546), the future imam of the mosque built at Ibn ʿArabī's tomb, tell us that the site was already the tomb of a certain Ibn al-Zakī.19While they knew little of Ibn ʿArabī, the residents were at the center of their own holy land, populated by the graves of local saints and holy men, many of them being ṣaḥāba, the companions of the Prophet. This Syrian holy land had been built up over centuries; the oldest surviving collection of the faḍā'il (virtues) of the area comes from the mid-eleventh century and reflects the traditions and stories that had been collected up to that moment about Syria's sacrality.20 The arrival of the Crusaders—who built at least four hundred chapels and churches in the Levant over the course of their two-hundred-year presence—prompted the resacralization of greater Syria.21 As the Ayyubids (under Salāh al-Dīn, r. 1174–93) and the Mamluks (under Baybars, r. 1260–77) reclaimed this land, they quickly began a campaign of creating a new Muslim holy land in southern Syria. Rulers, military men, and common townsfolk took part in rediscovering, often in an inspired dream, the locations of the tombs of early Islamic figures and heroes from the wars against the Crusaders and then contributing to their construction and upkeep. Older, smaller pilgrimage sites, such as the tomb of the patriarchs in Hebron, were greatly expanded, and non-Muslims were banned from entering them. Churches and monasteries were converted into Sufi lodges; revenues from villages that previously supported monasteries and churches were seized and reendowed to support the new shrines.22 Whereas earlier holy sites had predominantly stressed biblical events and urban locales, this new wave of shrine building saw the establishment of the graves of a wide variety of early Islamic figures, learned scholars, and military heroes throughout both the urban and rural landscape. Geographies and pilgrimage guides (pilgrimage to shrines, that is) of the period, like those of al-Idrīsī (d. 1165) and al-Harawī (d. 1215), included these shrines and sites. While the Crusader incursion might have spurred the renewed sacralization of the lands of Syria, the spread and establishment of shrines by themselves was part of the growing shift in the middle to late medieval period toward an Islam centered on saints and holy men—that is, Sufism.23The Ottoman government's warmhearted embrace of Ibn ʿArabī and its intervention in the sacred landscape of Damascus were not acts intended for the locals but rather for its competitors in Anatolia, the Balkans, and Iran. In the post-Mongol Turco-Iranian world, especially on the frontiers of Anatolia and the Balkans, there was a constant potential for holy men and saints' descendants to raise the flag of rebellion in their fortress-like lodges and become contenders for political power.24 Only a few years before his conquest of the Mamluk lands, Sultan Selim had quelled a serious rebellion in central and eastern Anatolia by the Kızılbaş followers of the Safavid Shah Ismail, a man who had used his holy ancestry to found a state in the late fifteenth century. Even cities like Cairo were not exempt from this particularly Turco-Iranian idiom of political sainthood. In the chaotic aftermath of the Ottoman conquest, a new holy man from Anatolia, Ibrāhīm al-Gulshanī (d. 1534), started gathering a following and consolidating power in Cairo.25 In these uncertain times, the Ottoman government took a distrustful stance against many Sufi orders and instead decided to turn Ibn ʿArabī into a "nondenominational grand master of spirituality from whose esoterism all Sufi orders could get inspired, and ideologized, in defense of the Sunni faith and its political patrons."26This type of experimentation was found in other early modern Islamicate empires throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The Mughal emperor Akbar (r. 1556–1605) developed a sort of Sufi order in which he was the holy shaykh and his courtiers and subjects were disciples.27 Later, when the Mughals conquered the Deccan, they the shrines of the Muslim The built massive tomb in around their in creating a cult of the around the other Sufi The Ottomans too with this throughout the sixteenth century, for example, a tomb shrine for Sultan on the Arab observers, however, saw the Ottoman government's of Ibn ʿArabī's tomb as an attempt by Muslims from the to and even the hajj and the holy sanctuaries of Mecca and The residents of Damascus referred to the many Ottoman as In its most sense, Rūmī a and someone who and came from the lands of the central lands of the Ottoman between the in the and the in the have of the medieval from however, is actually a of his or from the lands of This early modern at with its in both the medieval and modern In the medieval period, the both the and in the and fourteenth centuries, it began to refer to Muslims in the This and was by the development of Ottoman in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries into an and of competing with a that the Rūmī from that of the more or In the nineteenth century, however, the it applied to subjects of the empire, which is its In local Arab residents of Damascus saw the as with only a of Islam and its to build a tomb over the grave of Ibn ʿArabī being the of their of the of the events by the Ibn a number of omens for the future of Ibn ʿArabī's new the the bought the and to the general and that the had The as they the a and the the the man who the sultan to build the mosque and tomb in the first Only a had also were at the foot of Ibn ʿArabī's grave as the their to it into a holy site. they erected a a traditional of over the tomb and more but only under the of being of what the people might and that no one find out about While the sultan to the and a for a Ibn ʿArabī, the people of Damascus of high due to the and the of in their an of the Safavid one when an of the and the was into the by his to its As the shrine they from a building that a had that these had been from the tomb of saint the of the an to the of Ibn Selim and the Rūmī the tomb of Ibn ʿArabī on the of The of is the central of the hajj, when the stream onto the of and for the this a hajj Ibn Ṭūlūn that the Ottomans were to the hajj with pilgrimage to the new tomb of Ibn ʿArabī, as they had the pilgrimage to the and to against the significance or the might have with their of was however, because the of the Rūmīs, was so that he could not the and the of even with a In other words, he the a were to the and were throughout the sites of the the of the and were given out in the by the As he the it for a moment that he had built the shrine of a of holy on the eastern of the it was an it was at the employ of the of it spread among the the and the men of state. it was that it was the of one of the bathhouses, which became with and when the they believed it to be holy only did the to the locals but also few of the and of the to the were that as residents decided to because of the high brought on by the Ottoman Ṭūlūn a the when he was the and of the mosque at Ibn ʿArabī's While he with the that what is for few of his came to visit in his new The of the land to visit the tomb when he came to the more traditional tombs at the He was left with the Rūmīs, who had it their to visit the tomb during their and like a certain who came with his to the tomb to to be by one should us that it was not a that the Ottoman government both and into the hajj and the the Islamic world, there were a wide variety of that and saintly power, and the same the construction of Ibn ʿArabī's a cult centered on Ibn ʿArabī was not so Ibn take on Ibn ʿArabī's tomb the that the religious of the Ottomans immediately following the Other Arab scholars of the period a of the religious and the cult of Ibn the tomb and the cult among Rūmī scholars in as Rūmī scholars a of Ibn ʿArabī, for the saint needed to be among all the scholars in the imperial Although the tomb of Ibn ʿArabī remained a for Rūmī Damascus and the Arab lands become the center of a different holy Ottoman Ottoman government for a different of a state that did not on the creation of imperially tombs of holy men and The tomb of Ibn ʿArabī remained but the dynasty instead to become a of and a of Islam centered on following Islamic the course of the sixteenth century, it and in congregational in every and and that Muslims them as it to a particular of religiosity on practices such as and the The dynasty undertook these actions to itself from its imperial competitors like the and as had their own of shrines and but also with an toward the it had at greatest in a Sunni for the empire in its of the the of Mecca and that it had from the Even with these sites at their Ottoman in the hajj were a of for of the sixteenth For example, only toward the of the sixteenth century did the dynasty support for the tomb of Sultan in Hungary and order its shaykh to move to Mecca and focus his and on the grave of the to the the of Arab the government's shift toward the hajj was a In of over a hundred years the conquest of the Arab lands, the (d. a book in of The of the of the Ottomans were to other dynasty, or to set a number of and throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, known by their of of the or the of the house of The had their of Rūmī which them the site of an about the of imperial and in the Arab the Ottoman dynasty as a of both religious and a view to the the Ottoman and a century Whereas they had been as they were of especially to their massive investment in the religious sites of the hajj and the people who lived how they of thousands of on the of Mecca, Medina, Jerusalem, and Hebron, so so that they were never This was in to the on the military to the of the from The was by no an the from the seventeenth century that the and became and These imperial were by from the of the the which lands, and from both Muslims around the empire and of the dynasty The government also the around and Jerusalem, renewed of the area around the built and and all the in and hajj was a every which if not of thousands of through and massive infrastructure needed to be developed to bring to Mecca and Moreover, the pilgrimage had to be so that at the time in Mecca to the of the the left Damascus or there was not a to traveled on or horses, and a few were in However, the which included the many and that came traveled by The most was the between Damascus and Medina, the pilgrim were to the Syrian had been used during the Mamluk period, it no or infrastructure to to other than the few Thus, in the sixteenth century, the Ottoman dynasty began a of in the Syrian hajj The first was a

Information sources have developed considerably in recent years; many electronic platforms are able to provide valuable information regards engineering topics. One of the most important data sources is the open street map (OSM) platform, providing editable geographic information for most of the world, with different levels of accuracy and at different points in time. Road network mapping requires a high level of effort and accuracy, due to the complexity of the modelling and the amount of information that needs to be included in the feature class. OSM can support road network modelling by providing a different kind of data. In this paper, a systematic procedure was investigated for the production of an automated road network for Basrah city, as a case study for the use of OSM in Geographic Information System (GIS) 10.8 software. Specific spatial analysis tools such as road density and network analysis were also implemented. This study validated a computerised procedure to extract OSM data via two methods of validation and demonstrated the immediate applicability of this data for density and network analysis. The research results show a significant reduction in time and effort required to produce an accurate Basrah city road network using OSM data sources. Density analysis and network analysis show the importance and validity of the produced road network.

The Idea of the Muslim World: A Global Intellectual History

As early pioneers in the use of digital geographic data, many local governments in the UK were ahead of their counterparts in central government and the private sector in the application of GIS technology. To meet current challenges, local authorities must coordinate the latest technology with effective information management strategies, human and

Starting from the past or medieval period to the present day situation, history clearly indicates that the development of a region was and even today is function of a good transportation network. In the present day, society demands for an efficient and unobstructed road network after experiencing major issues or problems like traffic congestion, delay, pollution, increased vehicle operating cost and road accidents. Keeping in mind the above needs and constraints to traffic movement, an analysis of a digitized road network of the concerned city/town can be one of the best remedy to solve the problems. Such analysis is best suited in ArcGIS, Geographic Information System (GIS) software for creating, analyzing and compiling maps for obtaining information. In the present study an effort was made to prepare a road network map of Guwahati city and to find the shortest route between two places by proper analysis and digitization of its existing road network system in order to solve the traffic related problems to great extent. Network Analyst is a special analysis tool in ArcGIS which not only scrutinize the closest facility available in network of digitized interconnected lines but also facilitates in optimizing route during floods and emergency responses. One of the best models that can be generated through Network Analysis is the shortest route between required origin and destination points. The analysis is done based on input of certain network attributes like traversing distance, time and cost of travel, barriers, vehicle restrictions etc. All the important roads connecting each other within the Guwahati City were digitized in the GIS environment and proceeded further to serve the purpose.

Geographic Information System (GIS) has been used to study urban form over the past decades. It is particularly useful to measure quantitative variables of urban form, such as density, clustering, proximity, accessibility, etc. Overall, GIS has been an effective tool for researchers in the field. However, GIS as its own field has continued to evolve in a rapid pace. Recent development in the area of geospatial technologies offers new possibilities with new toolsets for spatial analysis and data visualization. This paper traces recent major trends in GIS and discusses their implications to the field of urban form study. These trends include the following: 1) Increase in dimensions with 3D GIS: conventional 2D maps are being replaced by interactive 3D models generated by procedural rules stored in GIS. Along with locations and associated attributes, vertical elevation and architectural details are also represented. 2) Integration with remote sensing: remote sensing not only enables 3D visualization with imagery processing but also provides other spatial information to create meaningful analysis results. For instance, LiDAR point-cloud data allow extraction of built forms and identification of physical features and land covers. 3) Cloud-based GIS: web-based GIS services allow centralized access to location-based information. Yet through distributed mobile platforms, real-time data collection, sharing, and collaboration are done seamlessly in the cloud. 4) Integration with virtual reality: virtual reality creates immersive experiences with a perception of being physically present in a non-physical world. GIS can greatly enhance the accuracy and realism of virtual scenes with up-to-date terrain models, street networks, and 3D features. This paper identifies best practices from two recent projects in North America. It then discusses an on-going project and demonstrates the potentials of these new emerging GIS tools for study of urban form.

Although tax farming—the delegation of tax collection to private individuals for profit—was common in most European countries prior to the nineteenth century, this privatized form essentially disappeared from Europe with the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars. In the Ottoman Empire of the nineteenth century, however, tax farming remained an important instrument for extracting revenue from customs transactions, domestic and international trade, and agricultural production. The Ottoman case is unique not only for retaining this mechanism within a larger revenue collection system, even beyond the end of the century, but also for deploying it to collect the tithe, a direct tax on agricultural production. This fiscal system, which made perfect sense within the Ottoman context, was hardly archaic and primitive when considered within a broader framework.

Османи на трьох континентах, пер. з турецьк. О. Кульчинського

(online only) The role of newspapers in the Ottoman Empire was pivotal in shaping public opinion and disseminating state policies. Particularly during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the evolution of the press emerged as a critical factor in the political and social metamorphosis within the Ottoman context. Newspapers transcended their traditional function of merely reporting news; they also became instrumental in education, propaganda and the establishment of ideological frameworks. Newspapers also served as open-source intelligence for intelligence organisations. The Ottoman Empire’s intelligence department (The Second Branch of the General Staff) used information from various newspapers and translated and disseminated them to decision makers. They were also under the control of this branch for possible information leakage. Therefore, the impact of censorship and regulatory oversight significantly shaped the operational landscape of the press. This article is a descriptive one that will try to identify the role of the Intelligence Department and the press.

This study attempts to model freight transportation of specific commodity in the regional scale, particularly to identify the shortest route of Crude Palm Oil (CPO) commodities, which are transported from factories to ports using different transportation network and mode. Several activities were performed, including identifying the location of palm plantations and factories supporting CPO industries, identifying intermediate points in the road and river networks, and determining the access route of CPO transportation from factory to the road or river networks. In determining the shortest route, various transportation networks and modes are simulated using Geographical Information System analysis by considering travel distance, time, and cost as the variables influencing transportation systems. There are 113 of CPO factories identified, then be classified into three classes by considering their production capacity. It is found that 80 factories are classified as small (71%), 26 factories are medium (23%), and 7 factories are big (6%). The shortest route is identified through both road and river networks. The analysis of the shortest routes shows that road networks have shorter travel distance and time compared to the rivers. Nevertheless, river transportation offers a cheaper price compared to road transportation. Therefore, there is a competition between these two transportation modes, in which about 51% of factories probably use road networks and 49% use river networks. Moreover, it is predicted that about 70% of total CPO in Central Kalimantan is transported to Sampit port and only 30% is transported to Kumai port. Keywords: freight transportation, shortest route, Geographical Information System

Spaces of Entanglement Andreas Kappeler (bio) The imperial turn, which for the past 25 years has directed the attention of historians toward empires, may have lost its first impetus, but as the journals Ab Imperio and Kritika as well as recent collective volumes and research projects have shown, it is by no means spent. The collapse of the Soviet Union initially revived interest in Edward Gibbon's question about "the decline and fall" of empires, but "imperiology" has since passed from explaining the breakdown of empires to asking not why they collapsed but how they survived for centuries, how they were organized and structured, and how imperial rule was established and maintained. Scholars have abandoned the metaphor of the "prison of peoples" for a more affirmative position that stresses the relatively peaceful coexistence of diverse peoples and societies under the rule of one dynasty, in contrast to the murderous history of the nation-state. This has led to various comparative projects, monographs, and collective volumes. Studies that examine the Romanov and Ottoman empires include Dominic Lieven's pioneering book as well as comparative projects and collective volumes edited by Alexei Miller, Alfred Rieber, and Kimitaka Matsuzato.1 These and other studies are mostly not comparative in the strict sense, however, but instead juxtapose chapters or articles on each of two or more empires and attempt a comparison only in the introduction and conclusion. Thus the potential of comparative history is far from exhausted. The most recent comparative study is the ambitious and stimulating Empires in World History by Jane Burbank and Frederick Cooper. It encompasses a very long period from the ancient Roman and Chinese empires to the 20th century, including the Ottoman and Romanov empires, and places world history into an imperial framework: "Empires in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, as in [End Page 477] the sixteenth, existed in relation to each other." Questions of "imperial intersections," competition, and imitation are thus included.2 By adopting this orientation, the work reflects a new trend in "imperiology" that asks about contacts and interactions between empires. This new direction is connected with a trend in historical sciences toward cultural transfers, transnational history, histoire croisée, and shared or entangled history. The first such studies concerned the interactions between the Western maritime empires and between France and Germany; later ones examined those between Germany and Poland and between Germany and Russia (for example, the special issue of Kritika on Germany and Russia in the first half of the 20th century).3 The histoire croisée of the Russians and Ottomans has been neglected so far, despite its importance for both empires. It lasted at least five centuries, longer than the relations Russia had with any other empire. Their interactions were shaped initially by a competition for the heritage of the Byzantine and Mongol empires and by a military, political, and cultural preponderance of the Ottomans. During the 18th century, the balance of power was reversed and the relationship was characterized by numerous wars, most of them ending with Russian victories. One recent publication includes six contributions on the Ottoman Empire, six on the Russian Empire, and one (by Marsha Siefert) comparing communications in both empires. Although the book's title is Comparing Empires, the subtitle is about "encounters and transfers." The interactions concern, however, mainly transfers from Western Europe to the Ottoman and Romanov empires; direct Russo-Ottoman entanglements are treated only sporadically.4 In 2010, the first collective volume devoted to the entangled history of the Russian Empire with other empires was published. It is focused on cultural transfers from the West European empires to Russia, considered here as a European "imperium inter pares." Only two articles touch on the Ottoman dimension. Vladimir Bobrovnikov compares the experiences of Russia in the Caucasus and of France in Algeria—two regions, parts of which had formerly been under Ottoman rule—and looks for interactions between the two colonial powers as well as borrowings from the Ottomans. A case study on Bessarabia [End Page 478] by Andrei Kushko and Victor Taki deals directly with the Russo-Ottoman entanglement in the border region of Bessarabia.5 Whether the Ottoman Empire, too, was an "imperium inter...

The time-space measure of accessibility based on the time-space path (TSP) and the potential path area (PPA) in time-geography is a powerful framework for the analysis of human behavior and accessibility patterns at the micro-scale. However, the reality of the TSP and the PPA on continuous space is low, although their geometric manipulation is easy. One possible means of raising the reality of the TSP and the PPA is to define the space to be analyzed as a street network which takes actual activity locations and the travel environment into account. A technical constraint related to the operation of the TSP and the PPA on a street network was difficult resulting from the large volume of spatial data, although the utilization of geographical information systems (GIS) has recently solved this constraint.This article has two purposes: (1) to describe a method for operating the TSP and the PPA on a street network using GIS, which is indispensable for accessibility measurement using time-space measures, and (2) to compare the results of measuring time-space accessibility on continuous space and a street network in order to determine the validity of the latter.The operation of the TSP and the PPA is performed using the following procedures: (1) construct a street network that consists of links and nodes with temporal impedance on a GIS environment; (2) operate the TSP by using the shortest path search function, which is a basic network analytical method of GIS; (3) operate the PPA by using the allocation method, which searches links and/or nodes located at a specific distance from the cardinal node(s).The comparison of the PPA on continuous space and on a street network reveals that the smallest range of the PPA on the latter is half that of the former and its dispersion is wider. Moreover, the shape of the PPA on a street network is not close to a circle in terms of the form ratio. The breadth and shape of the PPA on the network depend on the existence of barriers for rectilinear travel such as a broad road, railway, stair and open space that do not permit the passage of the general public, as well as the shape of city blocks. The PPA on continuous space, however, cannot take into account these factors. The above-mentioned results demonstrate the higher reality of the PPA on a street network in a quantitative sense.

Sweden, Inc.: Temporal Sovereignty of the Realm and People from the Middle Ages to Modernity

The version of Le Comte de Monte-Christo in Modern Greek (O Κόμης του Μοντεχρίστου), translated by the Constantinopolitan Greek teacher Ioannis Patroklos, and published between 1845 and 1846 in five volumes by the French printing-house Cayol in Beyoğlu, occupies a special place in the translation and adaptation history of Dumas’s novel in the “East”, as it was translated almost parallelly to the first publication of the original French work serialized in Le journal des débats (1844-46). It thus represents the very first “entry” of the novel to the multicultural Ottoman literary panorama, though it soon fell into oblivion being outpaced by another translation that appeared in the 1860s in Athens. The contribution tackles the reception of European prose literature among Greek readers in the Hellenic Kingdom and the Ottoman Empire during the nineteenth century, referring especially to the works of Alexandre Dumas père, it further presents the first Greek translation of Le Comte de Monte-Christo and its translator Ioannis Patroklos, and, eventually, it analyzes selected issues of language and cultural transfer related to the denotative concepts of “Greek”. Patroklos’s largely “faithful” translation can be put into a foreignizing and didactic framework corresponding to the educational background of the translator.
 Key words: literary translation, modern Greek novel, Ottoman Greek society, Alexandre Dumas père.

Histories of the Ottoman Empire based on Oriental and Western sources have been written by outstanding scholars in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. These histories trace the development of the Empire as a whole without giving too much consideration to the separate contributions of political entities or significant figures within the Empire. In short, the lacunae of Ottoman history must now be filled in by studies of the component parts of that history. The Crimean Khanate is one such political entity which has attracted very little systematic study outside of Russia and Turkey, The Crimean Khanate maintained a significant position in the relations between the Ottoman and Russian Empires from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries, during which time a chance took place in the balance of power in Eastern Europe and Western Asia - a change generally to the advantage of Russia and at the expense of the Ottoman State. The present study attempts to make a detailed survey of the relations of the Khanate with the Ottoman Empire and other foreign powers between 1578 and 1608 and, at the same time, to throw light on the institutions and political life of the Khanate by tracing the life of one of the most significant Khans of the Crimean Tatars, Gazi Giray Khar. II (1588-1608). The note on sources discusses systematically the widely scattered sources pertinent to the study of the Crimean Khanate in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. In the introduction the writer seeks to place the study in a sixteenth century Eastern European and Western Asian context, giving special attention to the Black Sea and the steppe environments of the Khanate, The first three chapters then describe the relations of the Khanate within the three principal orbits of its political activity, the Caucasus, the Steppe and Eastern Europe respectively, between 1573 and l606; Chapter IV provides an evaluation of these far flung activities.