Discover the hidden world of Yıldız Palace and the story of Sultan Abdülhamid II behind its walls.

Before you enter Yıldız Palace, look down towards Dolmabahçe.

That is where the story really begins.

On the shore of the Bosphorus stands an enormous palace, almost as if it were built to display the power of an empire.

Marble staircases, soaring ceilings, crystal chandeliers and doors opening towards the water.

Why would a Sultan leave a place like that and move uphill, into the trees?

If you truly want to understand Yıldız Palace, keep that question in your mind as you walk.

Because what you are about to see is not simply a collection of beautiful pavilions, antique furniture and gardens.

It was a walled world transformed into the centre of an empire.

And at the centre of that world stood Sultan Abdülhamid II.

As You Walk Through the Gates

Today, you enter with a phone in your hand.

In the late 19th century, approaching these same gates would have been a very different experience.

Simply getting inside was another matter entirely.

Yıldız was not a public park.

Behind these walls were the Sultan's home, the private world of the imperial family and one of the most important centres of Ottoman government.

And Yıldız was not originally built from scratch for Abdülhamid II.

The history of imperial buildings in this area reaches back to the reign of Sultan Selim III. Later Ottoman sultans also developed the surrounding groves and gardens.

But it was Abdülhamid II who transformed Yıldız into the extraordinary complex we recognise today.

After coming to the throne in 1876, he left Dolmabahçe and made Yıldız his principal residence.

Then the palace began to grow.

Another building.

Another pavilion.

An administrative office.

A workshop.

A library.

A theatre.

A pharmacy.

Greenhouses.

Stables.

A woodworking shop.

A metal workshop.

A porcelain factory.

Areas for animals — even an animal hospital.

Eventually, the complex spread across approximately 500,000 square metres. Including those serving the palace directly and indirectly, the population connected to this world is thought to have reached around 12,000 people.

So when you walk through the gates, do not ask:

“Where is the palace?”

You are already inside it.

Yıldız is not one building.

It was once a small city.

Now Go Back to the 1890s

Put your phone in your pocket for a moment.

Remove the tourists from the path.

Turn down the noise of modern Istanbul.

Imagine walking through exactly the same place more than a century ago.

Palace officials move along the paths.

Soldiers stand nearby.

Food is being prepared in the kitchens.

Gardeners are at work.

Horses wait in the stables.

A clerk hurries towards another building carrying documents.

A foreign representative may have arrived for an audience.

A craftsman is working in one of the workshops.

Somewhere else, porcelain is being produced for the palace.

And in the middle of all this activity, an empire is being governed.

This is what makes Yıldız so unusual.

The Sultan's home and his workplace were part of the same world.

He did not travel across Istanbul every morning to govern.

The government came to him.

When You Stand Before the Great Mabeyn

When you reach the Great Mabeyn, do not look only at the architecture.

Imagine a carriage arriving outside.

The door opens.

A foreign statesman steps out.

Uniforms.

Palace officials.

Interpreters.

People waiting to receive him.

The Great Mabeyn was among the buildings used to receive foreign statesmen and important guests. The rooms you walk through quietly today once formed part of the stage on which imperial protocol and diplomacy were performed.

And that is what matters here.

Not how much gold decoration you can count.

But who entered through these doors.

What news they carried.

And what answer they took away.

Look at the Great Mabeyn this way and the building changes.

It is no longer simply an old imperial pavilion.

It becomes a stage for diplomacy.

Then You Enter the Küçük Mabeyn

Here, the story moves closer to the Sultan himself.

If some parts of Yıldız represented the official face of the state, others brought you nearer to Abdülhamid's working and private world.

Today, you may stand inside a room and see an old desk, a chair or a cabinet.

But look at the empty space too.

Because once, that space was filled with people.

Officials.

Secretaries.

Pashas.

Messengers.

And a constant flow of information.

Imagine trying to govern a vast empire from Istanbul in the late 19th century.

You want to know what is happening in Baghdad.

You are waiting for news from the Balkans.

You are following developments in European capitals.

A governor sends a report.

An ambassador requests an audience.

Telegrams arrive.

Documents are prepared.

Newspapers are followed.

Photographs are collected.

Today, the phone in your pocket connects you to the world in seconds.

Back then, doing the same thing required an enormous system of people, telegraph lines, archives and paper.

And at the end of that system, information reached Yıldız.

So when you walk through these quiet rooms, do not be fooled by the silence.

Once, they were filled with information.

When You Reach the Library, Look Beyond the Books

One of the most fascinating details at Yıldız is Abdülhamid II's library.

Military affairs.

Geography.

Astronomy.

Botany.

Zoology.

Literature.

Thousands of works covering an extraordinary range of subjects.

Even detective and spy novels.

Standing near the library today, this is one of those details that reminds you that a Sultan was not simply a man issuing orders from a throne.

He collected books.

He collected photographs.

He followed the world.

He was curious about it.

The famous Yıldız Albums were part of this world as well. Historical photographs selected from Abdülhamid's personal albums and library collections can still be seen at the palace today.

When you stop in front of one of those photographs, remember:

For you, it is an old photograph.

For him, it could be a way of seeing a distant world.

Then You Reach the Woodworking Shop

Suddenly, the atmosphere changes.

No government affairs.

No diplomats.

No ceremony.

Wood.

Tools.

A workbench.

Abdülhamid II had a genuine interest in woodworking, and Yıldız still preserves this side of his life through the palace workshop, his woodworking tools and his worktable.

Stay here for a moment.

Because this may be one of the most human places in Yıldız.

Think about the man at the head of an empire.

A short while ago, government papers were sitting in front of him.

Now there is a piece of wood.

Measure it.

Cut it.

Shape it.

History books have a habit of turning people into titles.

Sultan. Pasha. Emperor. Ambassador.

But inside the workshop, the title briefly moves into the background.

What remains is a man who enjoyed making things with his hands.

These are the details that bring Yıldız back to life.

Why Is There a Factory Inside a Palace?

As you continue through the grounds, the story becomes even more surprising.

Because Yıldız had its own porcelain factory.

The Yıldız Imperial Porcelain Factory, founded in 1891, was not intended merely to produce tableware for the palace.

It also created prestigious objects representing Ottoman craftsmanship and artistic identity. Special pieces could even be presented as gifts to foreign royal families.

Then, in 1894, Istanbul was struck by a major earthquake.

The factory was badly damaged.

It was rebuilt with the involvement of Italian architect Raimondo D'Aronco, and production continued.

So when you see the factory today, do not think of it merely as an old industrial building.

Imagine a piece of porcelain leaving this place and eventually arriving inside a palace in another country.

A small object.

Carrying the signature of an empire.

Step Into the Gardens and You Begin to Understand Why Yıldız Is Here

Leave the buildings behind for a moment.

Walk.

Look at the trees.

Look at the water.

Modern Istanbul is only minutes away, yet in parts of Yıldız the city seems to disappear.

This is where the character of the palace becomes clear.

Dolmabahçe presents itself openly to the Bosphorus.

Yıldız hides among the trees.

The private imperial garden, with its pools, rich vegetation and long artificial lake designed to resemble a natural waterway, was not simply decoration.

It was part of palace life.

Slow down here.

Because one of the best places to understand Yıldız may not be inside a grand room at all.

It may be in the garden.

Only a short walk from all those reports, audiences, officials and decisions were trees, water and silence.

The problems of the empire did not disappear at the garden gate.

But for a while, at least, there was somewhere to walk away from them.

Then Everything Ended

The silence you experience at Yıldız today was not always here.

For decades, Abdülhamid II used Yıldız as both his residence and the centre of his rule.

Then came 1909.

Abdülhamid II was deposed.

Yıldız lost its central role in governing the Ottoman Empire. The palace was later used during the reign of Sultan Mehmed VI, but after the abolition of the Sultanate in 1922, an entirely different chapter began.

During the Republican era, parts of the complex were assigned to military education and other institutional uses.

Think about that transformation.

A place once connected to thousands of people gradually falls quiet.

The statesmen stop coming.

The Sultan is gone.

The ambassadors are gone.

Imperial palace life has ended.

Yıldız is no longer a royal court.

And time passes.

Decades.

Then almost a century.

After extensive restoration, major sections of Yıldız Palace were reopened to visitors on 19 July 2024.

The Great Mabeyn.

The Küçük Mabeyn.

The Çit Pavilion.

The Harem Apartments.

The library.

The woodworking shop.

The imperial gardens.

Places once closed to almost everyone are now open to people like us.

And now the person walking through the gate is you.

Before You Leave, Turn Around One Last Time

By the time you finish visiting Yıldız Palace, your phone will probably contain dozens of photographs.

Ceilings.

Rooms.

Furniture.

Gardens.

Perhaps a few selfies.

But when you finally pass through the gate, try one thing.

Turn around.

Look back for a few seconds.

Because you are no longer looking at the same place you saw when you arrived.

Now you know what existed behind those walls.

You know why a Sultan came here.

You know that statesmen once passed through these doors.

You know that reports were read in one building, books collected in another, wood shaped only minutes away and porcelain produced elsewhere in the grounds.

And most importantly:

You know that Yıldız was never simply a palace.

Today, we visit it as a museum.

But once, people worked here.

Waited here.

Built things here.

Made decisions here.

Received guests here.

Read books here.

Walked through these gardens.

And tried to govern an empire from behind these walls.

Seeing Yıldız Palace is one thing.

Seeing the life that once existed behind its walls is something else.

Remember that when you walk through the gates.

Because once you do, the empty rooms no longer feel empty.