Who Wrote History? The Western-Centered Narrative and the Invisibility of the Ottoman Empire

History is often thought of as a neutral account of the past. Yet which knowledge is deemed “scientific” and which narrative is accepted as “universal” is closely tied not only to what happened in the past but also to the mentalities and cultural frameworks through which that past is interpreted. Studies in Türkiye on Western-centric historiography demonstrate that historical narrative does not merely record events; it also shapes knowledge, cultural memory, and identity. Jack Goody’s concept of “history theft” provides a powerful starting point for understanding how this directive power becomes consolidated into a single-centered narrative.

^{Representation of History Theft (Generated with AI Assistance)}

According to Goody, history theft is not simply the appropriation of past events. The core issue is the monopolization of the right to interpret history by a specific geography and mindset. Europe has elevated its own historical experience to the status of a universal standard, defining concepts such as civilization, progress, and modernity in its own terms and presenting these definitions as the natural framework of world history. As a result, societies that followed different historical paths were from the outset positioned as “incomplete” or “delayed.” At this point, history ceases to be merely a field that recounts what happened; it becomes a narrative regime that determines whose experience counts as meaningful.

History theft is not a singular act carried out by an abstract “West.” From the early modern period onward, the traditions of history and social science that developed in Europe constructed a world history narrative centered on Europe’s own transformation. In this narrative, Europe is not merely a subject writing its own past but has assumed the role of an authority defining the pasts of other societies.

What was stolen in this process was not individual technological inventions but the authority to write history. Time was organized according to periodizations unique to European history (Antiquity, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, the modern era); when this timeline was accepted as universal, non-European societies were automatically labeled as “not yet” modern. Space was similarly structured through a center-periphery hierarchy, with Europe portrayed as the source of progress and other regions as late recipients of it.

Ottoman studies on the writing of scientific history in Türkiye reveal that this discourse of “delay” is linked not only to historical facts but largely to mindset. History ceases to be a field in which diverse experiences can coexist; it becomes a racetrack measured by a single civilization trajectory.

At the center of Goody’s critique lies the conceptual language of history. The concept of civilization was defined according to European processes of urbanization, institutionalization, and state formation, then presented as a universal standard. Societies that did not conform to this definition were deemed outside or behind civilization.

Progress is presented as a linear and inevitable process. In this narrative, Europe is the natural pinnacle of human history. The portrayal of the Ottoman Empire as a structure that “did not produce science” or “failed to modernize” is often the result of the uncritical application of this progress paradigm. Studies examining how the modern science and progress paradigm was applied to the Ottoman Empire show that the problem lies not in historical facts but in the criteria used.

Modernity also ceases to be a neutral historical period label within this framework. When science, rationality, and institutions are defined solely by their European forms, alternative modes of knowledge production and institutional models are declared non-modern. Thus, modernity becomes not an explanatory category but an exclusionary label.

The Ottoman example clearly illustrates how Western-centric historical narratives operate. Despite its long-standing state structure, institutional continuity, and production in various fields of science, the Ottoman Empire is often defined in modern historiography by what it lacked: the absence of a university, the failure to produce modern science, or the failure to follow the path of progress. These claims have transformed the Ottoman Empire from a historical subject into an object of comparison.

This approach rests on a modern mindset that reads the Ottoman Empire not within its own historical context but against an expected model. Ottoman scientific and institutional structures were deemed inadequate because they did not perfectly match their European counterparts; alternative forms of knowledge production became invisible. This is not merely an issue of historiography but also of how Eastern societies are represented. When viewed alongside intellectual traditions that question the Western gaze on the East, the invisibility of the Ottoman Empire emerges as part of a broader problem of representation.

Jack Goody’s concept of “history theft” does not aim to erase the West from history but to question the single-centered narrative of history. The problem is not that Europe wrote history but that its version of history was presented as universal and unquestionable truth. In this context, history theft is less about the theft of the past than about the concentration of the power to define and represent the past in specific centers.

The Ottoman example clearly shows how this power operates. The Ottoman Empire was evaluated not according to its own historical realities but according to the expectations of Western-centric concepts. Therefore, the central question is not “Why did the Ottoman Empire fall behind?” but “Whose concepts were used to write which history?”

Asking this question does not mean reclaiming the past; it demands that history be rethought in plural, multi-centered, and comparative terms.