Abdul Hamid gave the order for the tomb of Mehmed the Conqueror, which was located next to the mosque, to be opened in order to check for any damage and make repairs.
The tomb was opened, and at a depth of three meters, an iron trapdoor was found. From there, a stone staircase led down into the underground chamber of a Byzantine church.
There, to their astonishment, the workers found a marble tomb containing the embalmed body of Mehmed—identical to the portrait painted by the Italian artist a few months before his death.
This fact—that Mehmed was buried within the ruins of a Byzantine church—has been considered by many as strong evidence that he wished to be buried as a Christian and Byzantine emperor, among the other Byzantine rulers.
It is known that Mehmed often claimed to be the successor of the Byzantine emperors.
Sultan Abdul Hamid II, who, for political reasons at the time, had abandoned a certain Islamic sect he had followed and had adopted Sunni Islam, was seized with panic and ordered the tomb to be immediately sealed.
These events took place before 1908, and since then, the tomb has never been opened again. For this reason, it is difficult today to verify the testimony.
However, on December 19, 1996, a Turkish weekly publication associated with the well-known newspaper Sabah was released with the striking headline:
“The Conqueror was a Christian.”
The subtitle read: “Historians have not been able to solve this mystery to this day.”
Many centuries after the death of the great Fatih—Mehmed the Conqueror, as he is historically known—it is also known that he had a Christian mother, most likely of Greek origin.
The fact that in modern Turkey—where Islamic identity is strongly re-emerging—such reports are published is seen by some as evidence of doubt about Mehmed’s true religious identity, even within the official Turkish establishment.
This becomes even more significant when we consider that Fatih Mehmed is one of the greatest taboos of Turkish history, nationalism, and identity.
A leader like him was expected to embody not only national pride but also religious identity.
And yet, inside his tomb, it is claimed, lies one of the greatest secrets of the Ottoman Empire.
There were testimonies stating that next to the tomb there was a cross and an icon of the Virgin Mary.
According to these claims, Mehmed the Conqueror may have embraced Christianity at the end of his life—something carefully concealed by official Turkish historiography.
From his early childhood, he had contact with Christianity through his Christian mother.
It is one of the great historical mysteries how a relatively small number of Seljuk Turks and Ottomans who arrived in Asia Minor between the 9th and 10th centuries managed, within a few centuries, to change the entire ethnic and religious character of a region inhabited by millions—many say up to 20 million—Greek-speaking Orthodox Christians.
There are many explanations. Some say it was forced Islamization through violence, while others say it occurred for practical and economic reasons.
However, because this process of religious conversion was often incomplete and superficial, a unique characteristic remained within Turkish Islam—one that some consider a heterodox element.
Today, this is being increasingly discussed by Turkish journalists and researchers under the term “the religious problem of modern Turkey.”
On November 10, 2002, a Turkish newspaper reported that the feast of Saint Nektarios was celebrated inside a Muslim mosque—formerly a Christian church—in Eastern Thrace.
Many Turkish Muslims stayed after their prayers to observe the Christian service with great reverence.
Similarly, there are reports of Turkish Muslims attending Christian ceremonies, lighting candles, kissing priests’ hands, and seeking blessings from the Virgin Mary.
In some cases, even Muslims from other countries, such as Iran and Iraq, visit Orthodox churches in Istanbul, seeking hope, healing, and help for their personal struggles.
Some Turkish women have even been reported diving into the water during the Epiphany ceremony to catch the cross—an act deeply rooted in Orthodox Christian tradition.
Other reports mention Muslims visiting churches regularly, praying, lighting candles, and asking for miracles.
Turkish newspapers have even described certain churches as “places of hope” for Muslims.
In recent years, there has also been an increase in conversions to Christianity in Turkey, often among people who later discover they have Christian ancestry.
Investigations revealed that many of these individuals had ancestors who were Islamized, especially after the Asia Minor catastrophe, and later rediscovered their Christian roots.
There are also remarkable accounts of healing sites, such as sacred springs associated with early Christianity, where both Turks and foreigners visit for healing.
In some places, visitors light candles, burn incense, and perform acts that are officially forbidden in Islam.
Despite this, such practices continue and are even broadcast on Turkish television.
One striking example is the pilgrimage to Saint George on the island of Büyükada, where tens of thousands of Muslim Turks visit the church, light candles, make vows, and seek blessings.
Some even walk barefoot up the hill to the church, tying threads along the path as part of a ritual for their wishes.
Priests are seen blessing Muslim visitors, sometimes even making the sign of the cross on their foreheads.
Finally, there was a mysterious event reported in 1998 on the island of Antigoni, where a strange, sorrowful sound—like a sigh—was heard every night around a church.
Residents were alarmed and unable to explain it.
Some interpreted it as a supernatural sign, even suggesting it was a message from the Virgin Mary—a lament for the state of the world and the abandonment of faith.
The church, once full of Orthodox believers, now stands nearly empty.
And this sorrowful “voice” was seen by some as a symbol of that loss.
