ISTANBUL – For centuries, the Imperial Harem of the Ottoman Empire stood as the most secretive and misunderstood institution in world history. Hidden behind the gilded walls of Topkapi Palace, hundreds of women from across the empire and beyond lived as personal slaves of the sultan, yet within that closed world, 𝒔𝒆𝒙 could become the ultimate currency of power. New historical research has now peeled back the layers of myth and fantasy that long shrouded this “Abode of Felicity,” revealing a ruthless political arena where concubines, mothers, and queen mothers fought tooth and claw to shape the destiny of one of the greatest Islamic empires the world has ever known.
The story begins in 1520, when a young priest’s daughter from Ukraine, captured by slave hunters, entered the palace. Her name was Alexandra Lozovska, but she would become known as Hürrem, “The Laughing One.” She was one of hundreds of concubines, mostly Christian slaves, who were brought into the harem to serve the sultan.
Islamic law forbade the enslavement of freeborn Muslims, so these women came from captured territories or were bought from the Caucasus, prized for their pale skin, dark hair, and delicate bone structure. For centuries, Western travelers spun lurid tales of debauchery and đť“Şđť“«đť“ľđť“Ľđť“®, but the reality was far more complex.
“In our history, writing about the harem and the sultan’s women is a sin, forbidden,” says one Ottoman historian quoted in the newly examined records. “So nobody has written anything, and we always have to guess at these stories in our imagination.” Foreign travelers filled the gaps with fantasies of endless orgies and cruelty.
The first Englishman to glimpse the Imperial Harem, a mechanic sent by Queen Elizabeth I to install an organ as a gift, reported seeing “30 of the Grand Signor’s concubines playing with a ball … very pretty ones indeed.” He noted their thin garments “so thin I could discern the skin of their thighs through it.” But he was quickly chased away by an angry eunuch.
The harem was officially called the Abode of Felicity because the sultan had a special relationship with God. It supplied the best food, drink, music, and manuscripts—yet happiness was uncertain. A descendant of Suleiman the Magnificent, one of the last princes to live in the harem, recalled a luxurious but lonely life: “All he had were hundreds of women around him … I didn’t realize it was anything extraordinary because I was used to it.”
For Hürrem, the transition from slave to sultan’s favorite was anything but ordinary. Upon arrival, girls were examined for defects, bathed, and taught Islamic rituals. They were trained in etiquette, embroidery, reading, and writing.
The harem, historians now argue, was less a den of vice than a unique female university, the only institution in the empire where women received advanced education. They learned to read the Quran, walk backwards out of the sultan’s room, and never show anger.
𝒔𝒆𝒙 with the sultan was rare. Most inmates lived in cramped quarters, watched over by older women to prevent “mischief” like talking in the dark or sharing beds. The only males allowed inside were eunuchs, often castrated by Coptic priests in Egypt because Islamic law forbade the operation on Muslims.
Two types of castration existed—cutting or crushing—and sometimes the process failed, leaving intact testicles. Eunuchs were known to have relationships with harem women, which is why some were exclusively African: a half-black child would be immediately noticeable.
But for Hürrem, a path to power opened when she caught Suleiman’s eye. The sultan was encouraged to be a “prize stud” to secure the dynasty’s biological future. Yet love intervened.
Venetian sources report that Suleiman fell in love with Hürrem, breaking tradition by keeping her in his bed after she bore a son. Before Hürrem, a concubine who produced a son was “kicked out of bed.” Hürrem gave birth to five sons, and Suleiman stayed with her exclusively.
This scandalized the court. People called her a witch, fearing she had seduced the sultan through sorcery.
Rivalries erupted. The old favorite, Mahidevran, mother of Suleiman’s eldest son Mustafa, called Hürrem “soiled meat” from the slave market. A physical fight ensued, with Hürrem’s face scratched and hair pulled.
But Hürrem outmaneuvered her rival, telling the sultan she was unworthy of his attention because she was “soiled meat.” Suleiman’s curiosity piqued, he heard the full story, and Mahidevran was blamed. This early incident revealed Hürrem’s intelligence and ability to manipulate the entire palace system.
The stakes were life and death. Under Ottoman law, all sons had equal inheritance rights, but the winner took all: his brothers were executed. “If I had lived in those days, since I was a younger brother, I would probably have been strangled very young,” recalled a later prince.
Hürrem knew that if Mustafa—son of her rival—ascended the throne, her own sons would be murdered. So she set about eliminating threats.
In 1534, Suleiman made an unprecedented move: he married Hürrem, freeing her and making her his empress. “Sultans didn’t marry their concubines,” historians note. “It was incredible.”
Hürrem then became a political queen, building diplomatic relations and influencing her husband. She moved into apartments next to Suleiman’s and began communicating with foreign powers while he was on campaign. Love letters between them survive: “The green of my garden, my sweet sugar, my treasure … the queen of my heart’s realm.”
But Hürrem’s greatest enemy was Grand Vizier Ibrahim Pasha, a former slave who had become Suleiman’s closest friend. Some even spoke of a sexual relationship between them. Ibrahim grew arrogant, amassing wealth and power.
In 1536, Suleiman invited him to dinner, and after a long night of feasting, the sultan ordered his execution by bowstring—the same method used for royal kin. Ibrahim struggled, but his body was found outside the palace the next morning. Hürrem was widely blamed for egging on the sultan.
The danger of Mustafa remained. Suleiman’s favorite son was tall, strong, handsome, and beloved by the army. But Hürrem and her son-in-law, the new Grand Vizier, whispered that Mustafa was plotting against his father.
In 1553, while on campaign, Mustafa entered Suleiman’s tent and was attacked by mutes, thrown to the ground, and strangled with a bowstring. The sultan reportedly urged the killers on. Public outrage was immense, but the throne was secured for Hürrem’s sons.
HĂĽrrem died in 1558, 38 years after entering the harem. Suleiman became melancholy, wearing coarse clothes and turning religious. He died eight years later, and the struggle for succession continued.
Hürrem’s son Selim II took the throne, but he was a disappointment—drunken and weak. His favorite was Nurbanu, a Venetian noblewoman captured as a child. Nurbanu gave birth to only one son, Murad III, and when Selim died in 1574—according to legend after stubbing his toe in the bath—Nurbanu hid his body in ice rooms until Murad arrived from the provinces.
She then reminded her son of his duty: fratricide. Murad executed his five brothers. The coffins of the little princes emerging from the palace door horrified Istanbul.
One mother killed herself. But Nurbanu now ruled as the first Valide Sultan, or Queen Mother—a title she invented. She corresponded with Catherine de Medici of France and was described by the Venetian ambassador as the source of “all good and all ill.”
She controlled the harem and the state, but faced a rival: her son’s favorite, Safiye.
Nurbanu tried to distract Murad with other women, sending him beautiful dancers. Eventually, Murad took many concubines, fathering over 100 children. The harem grew to 600 women.
The sultan’s power became centered in the palace, and the Valide Sultan’s role expanded. When Nurbanu died in 1583, she was given a state funeral—a first for a woman. Her son Murad walked in front of her casket.
The next century saw the rise of Kösem Sultan, a Greek priest’s daughter who became the most powerful woman in Ottoman history. She ruled as regent for her sons Murad IV and Ibrahim, and later for her grandson Mehmed IV. Kösem was called “the ram that leads the sheep.”
She wrote candid letters to grand viziers, balancing power with political acumen. During Ibrahim’s mad and lustful reign—he once demanded the fattest woman in Istanbul and covered rooms in fur—Kösem kept the empire together. When Ibrahim became impossible, she agreed to his deposition and execution, sacrificing her own son to preserve the dynasty.
But Kösem faced a new rival: Turhan Sultan, the young mother of the new sultan. Two queen mothers vied for power, speaking through screens to influence the boy. In 1651, Kösem plotted to replace her grandson with a more malleable prince.
Turhan struck first. Her men hunted Kösem through the harem, found her hiding in a cupboard—her dress hem betrayed her—and strangled her. Her earrings, diamonds the size of chestnuts, were torn from her ears.
So ended the era of the “sultanate of women.”
Historians have long blamed these women for the empire’s decline, but recent scholarship challenges that view. “The women of the harem had to step in to protect their sultan and guide him,” says one expert. “They were doing the best for the empire at a time of crisis.
It’s okay for men to be ruthless, but not for women.” The Imperial Harem continued for another 250 years, but none of its inmates ever again commanded such power as Hürrem, Nurbanu, or Kösem. Their world remains hidden, but its influence helped shape the course of an empire that stretched from Baghdad to Budapest.