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From Ottoman Istanbul to the Dutch Tulip Fields: A History of the Tulip

2 days ago
19 min read

Updated: 17 hours ago

Watercolor illustration of an Ottoman-style palace surrounded by colorful tulip gardens, tall cypress trees, and a central fountain reflected in a pool, evoking the gardens of Istanbul during the Ottoman Tulip Age (Lale Devri).
An imagined watercolor reconstruction of the Ottoman pavilions and palaces at Sa’dabad, many of which were demolished following the Patrona Halil Revolt of 1730.

For readers in a hurry: The tulip has a long history in Ottoman art, poetry, and gardens. It reached Europe from the Ottoman world in the 16th century and eventually became a symbol of the Netherlands. The famous Dutch tulipmania of 1637 happened decades before the Ottoman Lale Devri (1718–1730), a period that received its name only in the early 20th century. Both stories have gathered myths over time, and historians have questioned many of the familiar accounts.



When I went to the Netherlands to visit Shanti, my chosen sister, I had the chance to see the Dutch tulip fields. I was deeply impressed by them.


Later, while studying history, I found myself returning to that memory. The Netherlands is so closely associated with tulips around the world, yet the flower also has a long history in Ottoman culture. There was even a period in Ottoman history that we now call the Lale Devri, or Tulip Age.


I began to wonder how the tulip had become such a powerful symbol of the Netherlands and why its Ottoman history was less familiar to people outside Türkiye.



The Ottoman Tulip in the Sixteenth Century


The wild tulip comes from Central Asia, where more than half of the known species grow, and the Tien Shan mountains are often named as its first home (Current Conservation). In Anatolia it was grown as an ornamental plant from the 12th century, and it appears on 13th-century Seljuk monuments (TDV İslâm Ansiklopedisi, "Lâle"). Mevlânâ mentions it in his poetry, and Ahmedî's 14th-century Cemşîd ü Hurşîd is its first recorded appearance in Divan poetry (TDV).


Its place in Ottoman art took shape at the court of Süleyman the Magnificent, the sultan of Hürrem Sultan. Kara Memi, head of the palace design workshop, the nakkaşhane, introduced a new semi-stylized manner of drawing flowers, and the tulip became one of its signatures. In tile work the motif appears for the first time in the tomb of Şehzade Mehmed, built in 1543 for one of Süleyman's sons (TDV).


Some two decades later the imperial architect Sinan built a mosque in Istanbul's Tahtakale market district for Rüstem Paşa, Süleyman's grand vizier, completed around 1563 (Kültür Envanteri). Its İznik tiles cover almost every interior wall, and in the large panel beside the main entrance tulips grow among hyacinths, carnations and roses around a flowering tree, in cobalt blue, turquoise, green and a raised tomato red (Ashmolean Museum).


Watercolor illustration of Ottoman İznik tiles with red tulips, blue hyacinths, and carnations, inspired by the 16th-century Rüstem Pasha Mosque in Istanbul, Türkiye.
Watercolor illustration inspired by the 16th-century İznik tile decorations of Rüstem Pasha Mosque in Istanbul, featuring Ottoman tulip and floral motifs.

Tulips were also bred and named. The first improved Istanbul tulip is credited to Ebüssuûd Efendi, the chief jurist of Süleyman's empire, who called it nûr-ı adn, "the light of Eden." The story comes down to us from Ubeydî Efendi (TDV).


Ottoman florists had a precise ideal. The prized İstanbul lalesi was almond-shaped, with petals shaped like daggers and tips as fine as a needle. Its opposite was the rounder European tulip, which Ottoman florists called kaba lâle, the "coarse tulip" (TDV). An album from around 1725, the Lâle Mecmuası, shows about fifty of these Istanbul tulips (TDV). The named varieties painted in albums like this are now described as lost (Christie's; Cornucopia). A tulip with the same long, pointed petals is sold today as Tulipa acuminata and is often called the Istanbul tulip. Whether it descends from the Ottoman varieties has not been established.


Ottoman Turkish was written in Arabic script, and in that script لاله (lâle) is spelled with the same four letters as الله (Allah): one elif, two lams and a he, arranged in a different order. Ottoman writers also used ebced, an old system in which every letter stands for a number, often to hide dates and meanings inside words. In ebced both lâle and Allah add up to 66. Read from the other end, لاله becomes هلال (hilâl), the crescent moon, so Divan poets could refer to the crescent as aks-i lâle, "the tulip reversed."


The poet Refî-i Kâlâyî linked the tulip to the divine name in a couplet, and the tulip was carved on the gravestones of some Sufis (TDV). The links between the flower, the crescent, and the name of God belong to Ottoman poetic and Sufi symbolism, which built on these features of the spelling for centuries.



How the Tulip Reached the Low Countries


In 1553 the French naturalist Pierre Belon described Turks tucking flowers into their turbans and called the flower a red lily (Encyclopaedia Romana). In April 1559 the Swiss scholar Conrad Gessner saw a tulip flowering in the garden of Johann Heinrich Herwart in Augsburg, and in 1561 he published a woodcut of it under the name Tulipa turcarum (Encyclopaedia Romana).


The name most often attached to the story is Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq, the Habsburg ambassador to Süleyman's court. In his letters, printed in Latin in 1581, he describes coming across narcissi, hyacinths and the flowers "that the Turks call tulipan" (Word Histories). Gessner had already seen a tulip in bloom in 1559, so Busbecq was at most one of several routes for the plant itself, and some historians think trade carried the bulbs more often than diplomats did (Encyclopaedia Romana).


The Turks' own name for the flower was lâle. Tulipan was a Turkish pronunciation of Persian dulband, turban, the word that also gave Turkish tülbent, fine muslin, and how the name of the cloth came to be attached to the flower in Busbecq's account is not recorded (Word Histories; TDV). A widely told explanation imagines Busbecq pointing at a flower and hearing the word for turban, a scene with no documentary record (Encyclopaedia Romana). From tulipan came French tulipe, Dutch tulp and English "tulip," and in 1597 the English botanist John Gerard still compared the flower to a Turkish cap in his Herball (Word Histories).


Before Leiden, tulips were already growing in the southern Low Countries, in what is now Belgium. Clusius himself told the story of an Antwerp merchant who received bulbs with a shipment of cloth from Constantinople, took them for onions, ate some and threw the rest into his garden, where Joris Rye of Mechelen later rescued them.


The story has no firm date, and Clusius first mentions tulips in writing in 1570 (Encyclopaedia Romana).


Clusius received tulip bulbs and seeds from Busbecq shortly before 1573, when he moved to Vienna to tend a garden for Emperor Maximilian II (Encyclopaedia Romana).


He came to Leiden in 1593, and in 1594 a new botanical garden was laid out under his supervision (Leiden University). His tulips flowered there in the spring of 1594, which is usually taken as the beginning of tulip growing in the northern Netherlands, the provinces that formed the Dutch Republic (Encyclopaedia Romana). Leiden University credits his research with laying the foundation of the Dutch bulb industry (Leiden University).


Clusius guarded his bulbs and lost them anyway. Thieves took some every year from 1580 to 1584 and again in 1596 and 1598, often a servant or a gardener. In a letter of 1594 he complained that flowers were now being bought and sold as commodities (Encyclopaedia Romana).


From here the two tulip cultures grew apart in taste. Ottoman florists kept selecting for the long, pointed petal, while European growers favored the rounded cup (Jarzebowski 2023).



Tulipmania


In 17th-century Holland, collectors were especially drawn to tulips with unusual patterns. Some had red or purple streaks running through white or yellow petals, creating the appearance of flames or feathers. These were called “broken” tulips. People did not yet know that the striking colors were caused by a virus. The same virus weakened the plants, making the most beautiful varieties difficult to reproduce and therefore especially valuable (PMC review; Smithsonian).


One of the most famous was Semper Augustus, a red-and-white tulip so highly prized that its owner refused to sell any of his bulbs in the 1620s (Encyclopaedia Romana).


By the winter of 1636–1637, tulip trading had spread beyond wealthy collectors.


Merchants, brewers and craftsmen were making deals in the inns of Haarlem and Amsterdam. They were often buying bulbs they had never seen because the flowers were still underground. Buyers agreed on a price in winter and expected to pay when the bulbs were dug up in summer (Reviews in History).


Some prices were extraordinary. At an auction in Alkmaar in February 1637, organized for the orphaned children of a tavern keeper, a bulb of Admirael van Enkhuizen, together with a smaller bulb growing beside it, sold for 5,200 guilders. It is the highest reliably recorded price from the episode (Encyclopaedia Romana).


But the excitement did not last. In February 1637, buyers stopped agreeing to the high prices, and the market collapsed. Many contracts were left unsettled, and the courts declined to enforce them (Smithsonian).


The story became much larger in the years that followed. Pamphlets published in 1637 presented the tulip trade as a warning about greed and foolishness. Two centuries later, the Scottish writer Charles Mackay repeated some of these stories in his popular book about financial crazes. One famous anecdote described a sailor who supposedly went to prison after mistaking an expensive tulip bulb for an onion and eating it (Smithsonian).


Modern historians have questioned how much of this familiar story is true. Anne Goldgar examined Dutch archival records and found that tulip trading involved a relatively small group of people. The collapse damaged relationships and reputations, but she found no evidence that anyone had gone bankrupt because of it. The event was real, although its consequences appear to have been much more limited than later accounts suggested (Smithsonian; Reviews in History).


Economist Peter Garber had also questioned the traditional account. He argued that high prices for rare tulips were not necessarily irrational, since unusual varieties were truly scarce. In his view, the final weeks of trading were the clearest signs of a speculative bubble (Garber 1989). Not all scholars agree with his interpretation (Times Higher Education).



Watercolor illustration of Anne Goldgar’s Tulipmania book surrounded by Dutch tulips, antique books, and botanical drawings, with a historic Dutch canal and windmill in the background.

Tulipmania: Money, Honor, and Knowledge in the Dutch Golden Age

A historian’s investigation of the Dutch tulip trade of the 1630s, drawing on archival records to question the familiar stories of financial ruin and mass speculation.



Istanbul, 1718–1730


Watercolor illustration of an 18th-century Ottoman palace garden during the Lale Devri, featuring Turkish tulips, marble fountains, ornate pavilions, and Ottoman women in traditional dress.
An imagined watercolor scene of an Ottoman palace garden during the Tulip Age (1718–1730), with elegant pavilions, fountains, tulip beds, and women in period clothing.

In the summer of 1718 the Ottomans made peace with the Habsburgs and Venice at Passarowitz, with English and Dutch diplomats helping at the table. Two months earlier, Sultan Ahmed III had appointed a new grand vizier, Nevşehirli Damad İbrahim Paşa, who was also married to his daughter Fatma Sultan. İbrahim Paşa would run the empire for the next twelve years, until the day he was killed in 1730 (TDV İslâm Ansiklopedisi).


Peace brought building and leisure to the capital. Kağıthane, the green valley at the top of the Golden Horn, had been a place for picnics since the 15th century. In 1722 the palace of Sa'dabad went up there in about two months.


Sa'dabad was long described as a copy of Versailles, built from plans brought back from Paris. The historian Can Erimtan traced that idea to a French book from 1887 and found nothing in the Ottoman chronicles to support it (Erimtan). Ottoman writers saw the palace through their own Turkish and Persian garden tradition, and the poet Nedim compared it with the gardens of Isfahan. Shirine Hamadeh, who has written on the architecture of the period, looks for its sources in the city itself, in changing tastes and new kinds of public leisure, from waterside gardens to coffeehouses.


There was a real Ottoman visit to Paris in these years. Yirmisekiz Çelebi Mehmed Efendi left Istanbul for France in October 1720 and came home a year later. His report of the journey, the sefaretname, is often read as the empire's first long look at the West. A recent study in Belleten finds that the mission achieved little diplomatically and warns against treating it as the start of a Westernization program (Gezer 2024). A painting in the Musée Carnavalet in Paris shows his procession leaving the royal audience with the young Louis XV in March 1721.


The printing press is another part of the story that has grown in the retelling. In 1727 İbrahim Müteferrika received permission to open the first Ottoman Turkish press, and the chief mufti issued a fetva approving it. Religious books were left out, a limit Müteferrika himself had suggested. His first book, an Arabic–Turkish dictionary, appeared in 1729 in 500 copies. The familiar picture of religious scholars and angry scribes fighting the press comes mostly from European travelers, whose explanations contradict one another. The historian Orlin Sabev found no sign of such hostility in the Ottoman documents he studied (Sabev).


The love of tulips did reach a high point in these years. Şeyh Mehmed Lâlezârî, the chief florist of İbrahim Paşa's time, wrote a treatise called Mîzânü'l-ezhâr, "The Scale of Flowers," listing about twenty qualities a tulip needed in order to be prized. Its date is uncertain, and it may have been written a little before 1718. Florists kept registers of named varieties, one with 850 names and another with more than a thousand, and the names themselves were small poems in Persian and Arabic: Gülrengi-feyz, "rose-colored bounty," or Revnak-bahş, "giver of brilliance" (Önal 2009).


Prices climbed high enough for the authorities to set official ones. In the mid-1720s a narh list, a fixed-price list, was drawn up for 239 tulips. According to an auction catalogue note, the most expensive was Nîze-i Rummânî, "Pomegranate Lance," at 50 kuruş (Christie's). Popular accounts often say the sultan issued a ferman fixing tulip prices. The documents historians actually cite are these price lists.


Watercolor illustration of an Ottoman tulip festival (lale çırağanı) at night, featuring illuminated tulip gardens, ornate pavilions, fountains, Ottoman guests, and candle-bearing tortoises.
An imagined watercolor scene of lale çırağanı, an Ottoman tulip illumination during the Tulip Age (1718–1730), with candlelit gardens, colorful lanterns, fountains, and tortoises carrying candles, a detail preserved in later folklore.

On spring evenings there were tulip illuminations, lale çırağanı. The court chronicler Râşid describes one that İbrahim Paşa held in 1720, with candles, lanterns, colored glass globes and nightingales in cages among the tulip beds (Archnet). A rivayet, a story passed down, adds tortoises walking slowly between the flowers with candles on their shells. It appears in many popular histories, but no writer of the period has been found to mention it.


In late September 1730 a revolt led by Patrona Halil broke out in Istanbul. İbrahim Paşa was killed, Ahmed III gave up the throne, and Mahmud I became sultan. The reasons behind the revolt were many: losses after Passarowitz, a costly war with Iran, heavy taxes, the luxury of the elite and rivalries at court (TDV İslâm Ansiklopedisi). More than 120 pavilions at Sa'dabad were pulled down on the new sultan's order. The old image of a people rising against a tulip-mad court has been questioned.


Selim Karahasanoğlu studied the spending records of the period and found that the elite spent about as much as their rank would lead us to expect, with no unusual extravagance. He sees the revolt as a struggle for power. Feridun Emecen agrees that politics drove it, though he gives these twelve years more weight as a turning point than Karahasanoğlu does.



Tulip of Istanbul

A historical murder mystery set in Istanbul in 1730, as the revolt that ended Ahmed III's reign breaks out. İskender Pala, a scholar of Divan literature, first published it in Turkish in 2009.

Tulip of Istanbul 

A historical murder mystery set in Istanbul in 1730, as the revolt that ended Ahmed III's reign breaks out. İskender Pala, a scholar of Divan literature, first published it in Turkish in 2009.


Who Named the Tulip Age?


The chroniclers who recorded these years, including Râşid and Çelebizâde Âsım, did not call them the Lale Devri, or Tulip Age. The name emerged almost two centuries later and is traditionally attributed to the poet Yahya Kemal Beyatlı. This attribution comes from the later account of literary historian Nihad Sami Banarlı, so it is difficult to establish precisely when the expression was first used.


The phrase also appears in Yahya Kemal's gazel Bir Sâkî, reproduced by the historian and writer Reşat Ekrem Koçu:


O mugbeçeyle tanışdımdı Lâle Devrinde


Printed excerpt of Yahya Kemal Beyatlı's Ottoman-inspired gazel Bir Sâkî, reproduced by Reşat Ekrem Koçu, showing the expression Lâle Devri (Tulip Age).
An excerpt from Yahya Kemal Beyatlı's Bir Sâkî, reproduced in a work by Reşat Ekrem Koçu.

The verse recalls a meeting during the Tulip Age, evoking the atmosphere of eighteenth-century Istanbul through poetry. It is an example of how Yahya Kemal imagined the Ottoman past, although the poem alone cannot establish the earliest use of the name.


It was historian Ahmed Refik Altınay who brought Lale Devri into wider historical use. His work appeared as a serial in the newspaper İkdam in 1913 and was published as a book in 1915. Refik was writing during the Second Constitutional Period, when Ottoman intellectuals were debating the empire's relationship with Europe. Historian Can Erimtan argues that Refik's interpretation presented İbrahim Paşa's years as an early period of cultural refinement and openness to the West (TDV; Erimtan).


Over time, the name became associated with elaborate gardens, court entertainment, extravagant spending, and European influence. Yet historians have questioned how much of this familiar picture reflects eighteenth-century sources and how much was shaped by later interpretations. Cemal Kafadar raised this question in 1993, and scholars including Can Erimtan and Selim Karahasanoğlu have challenged the conventional narrative. Feridun Emecen, meanwhile, considers 1718 a meaningful starting point within broader changes in Ottoman society (Erimtan; Emecen, 2018; Karahasanoğlu, 2025).


Tulips, gardens, and court festivities certainly belonged to eighteenth-century Istanbul, but tulips had been part of Ottoman poetry and decorative arts for centuries before 1718. The name Lale Devri therefore tells us as much about how later generations remembered this period as it does about the years themselves.


For readers of Turkish, the history channel Tarih Obası devoted a long broadcast in December 2025 to these debates, from the origin of the name to Sa'dabad and the printing press, with a reading list of the critical literature.




Tulips Today, in Istanbul and in the Netherlands


Tulips began returning to Istanbul’s parks and public gardens in the mid-2000s. Since 2006, the city has celebrated the Istanbul Tulip Festival (İstanbul Lale Festivali) every spring. Millions of tulips have been planted across the city over the years, bringing the flower back into Istanbul’s public spaces. The number planted each year has varied, with particularly large displays in the late 2010s.


Watercolor illustration of Seda Sürel walking through an Istanbul tulip garden in spring, wearing a flowing blue skirt and floral shawl, with a tabby cat beside her, surrounded by wildflowers, colorful tulips, and a fountain.

I love walking through Istanbul's tulip gardens in the season. My own taste runs more toward wildflowers and the loose, unruly gardens of the Romantic era, but when the tulips are out I go to Göztepe Park, to the seaside and to other parts of the city to see the beds full of tulips in every color, many of them planted in shapes and patterns.


For visitors, April is the month to come. The festival runs through April, and the tulips usually peak around the middle of the month. Emirgan Grove on the Bosphorus, Gülhane Park beside Topkapı Palace and Göztepe 60. Yıl Parkı on the Asian side are among the main places to see them. The erguvan, the Judas tree of the Bosphorus hills, flowers in the same season.


Most of these bulbs are grown in Türkiye, largely in Konya. The Konya grower Asya Lale began in the 1990s with bulbs brought from the Netherlands.


The two countries now exchange tulips as gestures of friendship. In 2020 the Dutch Consulate General in Istanbul presented an "Istanbul Tulip," announced as returning home after more than two centuries, and its bulbs were later planted at Emirgan (İBB).


In 2025 the Turkish Embassy in The Hague gave Turkish names to Dutch-bred tulips, among them 'Anadolu'. For almost two decades a stylized tulip was also the logo used to promote Türkiye abroad, until the Ministry of Culture and Tourism decided in 2018 to replace it.


In the Netherlands the tulip became an industry and a landscape. Keukenhof, the show garden at Lisse founded by bulb growers in 1949, now draws visitors from all over the world each spring (Keukenhof), and tulips cover more than half of all Dutch land under flower bulbs (CBS). In Leiden, the Hortus Botanicus keeps a reconstruction of the garden Clusius laid out in 1594 (Leiden University).



A Note on Anatolia’s Wild Tulips


The tulips admired in Ottoman Istanbul were carefully cultivated garden varieties. But Türkiye is also home to wild flowers with their own histories. The Karaman lalesi is a small red tulip native to the Taurus Mountains. The ters lale, or crown imperial, is a different flower altogether, known for its hanging blossoms and the stories associated with them.


Both are part of Anatolia's botanical and cultural heritage, although neither should be confused with the cultivated tulips of the Ottoman court.


The Tulip Motif in Everyday Life


The tulip is still part of Turkish decorative culture. We see it on ceramics, textiles, coffee cups, and household objects, sometimes in forms inspired by classical Ottoman designs. The pointed tulips of İznik tiles and Ottoman floral patterns continue to influence contemporary decoration.


These objects offer a small glimpse of how a flower that once occupied an important place in court art has remained familiar in everyday life.


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Reading Lâle in Turkish


Much of what the tulip meant to the Ottomans can be found in Divan poetry. This was the classical poetry of the Ottoman court, written in Turkish but full of Persian and Arabic words, from the 14th century to the 19th. Its poets drew on a shared set of images, a little like the roses and nightingales of older European love poetry, and readers knew what each one stood for.


The tulip was a latecomer to this world. Around 1500 the poet Necâtî pictured it arriving in the meadow like a stranger from the countryside, a wild flower of the open hills, sahrâ-nişîn, not yet welcome among the roses. Half a century later Bâkî, the leading poet of Süleyman the Magnificent's reign, wrote a whole poem in which every couplet ends with the word lâle. In one line, Jâlelerden takınur tâcına gevher lâle, the tulip gathers drops of dew and sets them in its crown like jewels. In the 1720s Nedim, the favorite poet of Ahmed III's court, spoke to the flower directly in a spring poem: Müdâm ey lâle-i hâtır-güşâ dûr olma gülşenden, roughly "O tulip that gladdens the heart, never stay far from the rose garden."


Poets also found comparisons in the flower's color and shape. A red tulip could be the blush on a loved one's cheek, and an open one a wine cup made of ruby. Its dark center became a lover's wound, the dâğ, a Persian word for the mark a burn leaves on the skin. Describing the tulip garden of Manisa, a town near the Aegean, the poet Nâbî wrote 'Aceb ki lâlesinün dâğı yok derûnında: strangely, its tulips have no dâğ inside them. Another poet, Refî-i Kâlâyî, hid the names of forty-seven tulip varieties in a single poem (Önal 2009).


These images belong to the classical tradition. Turkish speakers today meet the tulip in other places: as Lale, a common girl's name, in the phrase Lale Devri in history lessons, and in the tulips painted on the İznik tiles of Istanbul's old mosques. The tulip as wine cup and as lover's wound is probably most familiar to readers of classical literature, and the letter play between lâle, Allah and hilâl tends to belong to the same learned tradition.



A last word


When I visited my friend Shanti in the Netherlands, I was struck by how much tulips were part of the landscape. I remember telling her that we even had a period in Ottoman history called the Lale Devri, the Tulip Age. She was surprised, and I was equally surprised to discover how little the Turkish history of tulips was known there. Around that time, tulips were also becoming increasingly visible in Istanbul's parks and gardens.


Years later, when I walk through Göztepe Park or along the Istanbul shore in spring, I often think about that visit. The tulips remind me of how cultures can share something beautiful while giving it different meanings and traditions. I like the thought that a flower can connect two places, and that a conversation between friends can reveal a history neither expected the other to know.



Vocabulary


lale – the tulip, from Persian lāla. The word is everywhere in Türkiye, from girls' names to street names to the logo the country once used to promote itself.

lâlezâr – a tulip garden, built with the Persian suffix -zâr, "a place full of." From the 17th century it became a subject of its own in Divan poetry.

Lale Devri – the Tulip Age, the name given in the early 20th century to the years 1718–1730. Historians now use it with caution.

İstanbul lalesi – the Istanbul tulip of Ottoman florists, almond-shaped with dagger-like petals. It was an aesthetic ideal as much as a plant.

kaba lâle – literally "coarse tulip," the Ottoman florists' term for the rounded European tulip. It was a horticultural classification, used by connoisseurs who preferred the pointed form.

tülbent – a fine muslin, once wound into turbans. Through a Turkish pronunciation of Persian dulband, the same word family gave Europe "turban" and probably "tulip."

şükûfe – an Ottoman word for flower. A florist was a şükûfeci, and the chief florist of the court, the office Şeyh Mehmed Lâlezârî held, was the serşükûfeci.

narh – an officially fixed price. Ottoman authorities set narh prices for bread and meat, and in the 1720s also for tulips.

çırağan – an illumination, a festival of lights. Lale çırağanı were evening gatherings among tulip beds lit by candles and lanterns. The Çırağan Palace on the Bosphorus carries the same word.

rivayet – a reported story, passed on by tradition. Turkish speakers use it for accounts that may or may not be true, such as the tortoises carrying candles among the tulips.




Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)


Q: What was the Lale Devri, or Tulip Age?

A: It is the name later given to the years 1718–1730 in the Ottoman Empire, from the Treaty of Passarowitz to the Patrona Halil revolt, under Sultan Ahmed III and his grand vizier Nevşehirli Damad İbrahim Paşa. Ahmed Refik popularized the name in 1913–1915, and historians today use it with caution.


Q: Did the Dutch get their tulips from the Ottomans?

A: The tulip reached Europe from the Ottoman world in the 16th century, through diplomats, botanists and trade. Tulips grew in the southern Low Countries by about 1570, and Carolus Clusius planted them in Leiden in 1593–1594, more than a century before the Ottoman Tulip Age.


Q: Why is the tulip called "tulip"?

A: "Tulip" and "turban" share an origin in Persian dulband, turban cloth, as pronounced in Turkish. Turkish still has the related word tülbent, muslin. The popular story of a diplomat confusing the flower with a turban has no documentary record.


Q: Is it true that lâle and Allah are written with the same letters?

A: Yes. In Arabic script, lâle (لاله) and Allah (الله) use the same four letters, and both have the ebced value 66. Read backwards, لاله spells hilâl (هلال), the crescent. Ottoman poets and Sufis built a rich symbolism on these features of the spelling.


Q: When is the best time to see tulips in Istanbul?

A: April. The İstanbul Lale Festivali runs through the month, and the tulips usually peak in mid-April. Emirgan Grove, Gülhane Park and Göztepe 60. Yıl Parkı are among the main sites.



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