Nowhere probably are the themes of cultural diversity and multiculturalism more prominently at display than in the recently flourishing literature on the Ottoman religious-ethnic communities in Turkey, wherein the Ottoman rule, particularly its so-called “golden age” between 15th -17th centuries, is romanticized as the epitome of cosmopolitanism and multicultural tolerance towards the “minorities”. According to many scholars of the Ottoman history, the period in question provides a perfect model of peaceful coexistence and belonging distinguished by an exemplary hospitality toward the other, be they Jews, Armenians or Greeks. As the paper discusses at length, the nostalgic remembrance of the cultural diversity of the golden age is not so much matters of historical interest, but rather symptomatic of the deep identity and “minority” crisis modern Turkey (along with many other “peripheral nationalisms”) is facing today: Armenian question, Kurdish question, Cyprus question, etc., all of which are imbricated with Turkey’s bid to join the European Union. This paper situates these vexing questions in the broader context of debates around citizenship, nationalism and multiculturalism. While doing so, it aims to show how the nostalgic narrative of the Ottoman tolerance, as a reactionary interpretation of the past, plays a significant role in the construction of Turkish and European identities and borders. Seen in these terms, the analysis of the nostalgic literature on the Ottoman peace can be very illuminating as to how the “Western/Occidental” and “Oriental/Peripheral” (i.e. the Ottoman and Turkish) formations of identity are constructed, remembered and contested in the past as well as today.
Although we hear a lot about the ‘headscarf issue’ in Turkey, there is little written about the legal genealogy of the ban which many secularists back by quoting a law that dates from 1925. This is a law that actually focuses not on what women, but what men wear: it stipulated that Turkish men should stop wearing their turbans and fezes and wear the ‘shapka’ as a token of their devotion to the country’s cause of progress and westernization. The historical transformation was jump started by the often-related anecdote of Atatürk addressing the provincial town of Kastamonu saying ‘My dear sirs, this is a hat!’ This paper aims to bring forth other ‘remembrances’ of this event and its aftermath in contemporary Turkey, from newspaper articles to films, particularly the book ‘?apka’ by Mustafa Çetin Baydar and the film ‘Hür Adam’ (depicting the life of Bediüzzaman Said Nursi). I will look at how the contemporary political climate makes a re-reading of these historical moments possible, and how the figures who stood against the ban are re-configured as representatives of public opinion that were crushed- calling into question the ‘democratic ideals’ that the new republic was supposed to be invested in. While the republican propaganda war against women’s head coverings was carried out on the premise of women’s emancipation, the rationale behind the hat revolution was harder to articulate for the republican elites. The rhetoric for the adoption of the hat amounted to a public-relations effort directed at convincing ‘developed nations’ and Turks themselves that they belonged in Europe. This direct intrusion into personal space caused the thitherto low-key resistance against secularizing reforms to become more vocal and organized and I will look at what kind of discourse the resistance used and how that discourse is re-articulated in today’s public narratives and cultural products. The other authoritarian law of 1925, Law on the Maintenance of Order dealt almost exclusively with cases that violated the ‘shapka’ law, and the resistance to the hat itself became the battle cry against both the European powers that had brought about the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the secularizing elites of the state. The cases ended mostly with exile, imprisonment and hanging of 19 religious figures, including ?skilipli At?f Hoca. Looking at these examples and their invocation in today’s political and cultural discourse, my paper aims to contribute to the re-reading of early republican history today.
Despite the recent surge in publications on African slavery and Africans and in the late Ottoman Empire, little is known about their descendants, many of whom are concentrated in Izmir and along Turkey’s Aegean coast.
In this paper I aim to examine the recent developments in the history of these Turkish citizens of African descent (hitherto Afro-Turks) which began following the publication of a family history by an Afro-Turk in 2005. Thus an examination of the motivations behind the promotion of Afro-Turk identity by the Turkish government, the Turkish historical society, and the media since its publication will be in order. I will argue that this unprecedented attention given to Afro-Turks is linked to the desire of the Turkish government to present Turkish society as being open, progressive, and respectful toward its minorities. Whether the impetus behind this promotion is related to admission to the European Union or to domestic concerns, it is not clear. However, it is clear that the Afro-Turks, unlike native Christians, Jews, or Kurds, represent a minority that the Turkish government and media can promote without inflaming Turkish nationalist sentiments.
In this paper I also aim to center Afro-Turks themselves within the discussions surrounding their identity, history, and their place in Turkey today, by detailing the preliminary results of interviews conducted with Afro-Turks living in and around Izmir. This paper thus follows the work of Leyla Neyzi, whose use of oral history has uncovered hitherto unknown aspects of the lives of minorities in modern Turkey. The results of my interviews suggest that what Afro-Turks themselves believe is not entirely in line with the government and media portrayal of Afro-Turk identity. Thus Afro-Turks remain largely disconnected from the ongoing discussions about their history and identity.
The results of this study have far reaching implications for modern Turkish history. First, this study will be breaking new ground as the legacy of Ottoman slavery is largely understudied. Second, examining the emergence of Afro-Turk identity will advance our understanding about the global phenomenon of identity formation. Finally, the popularization of Afro-Turk identity reflects recent developments in Turkish society: it is part of the slow erosion of the previously rigid concept of Turkishness that was constructed in the republic’s founding years. Sources for this paper include Turkish historical society publications, Turkish newspapers, European Union reports and interviews conducted with Afro-Turks.
The liberal economic policy adopted by the Kemalist elite in the first years of the Turkish Republic was also reflected in Turkey’s forestry policy. During the 1920s, concessions were given to both domestic and foreign businesses to exploit the timber potential of the nation’s most productive forests. When statism was adopted as the nation’s economic regime during the 1930s, it also became the norm for forestry. Finally, all forests were nationalized in 1945. The state was henceforth, both the owner and the manager of forests. These roles were complemented by the state’s role of conservation. This period also witnessed the emergence of state-managed forest industries, namely state timber factories. State timber factories were gradually privatized in the 1990s and most have ceased operation. Yet forests in Turkey are to this day owned and managed by the state. As it can be seen in this brief summary, the politics and economics of forestry have until recently been a perfect reflection of Turkey’s political and economic history throughout the 20th century. However, while the political economic history of Turkey has been studied extensively, forestry has often been neglected in these discussions. While many facets of statism have long become ‘history’ forestry can be considered as one of the few remaining statist institutions. What were the characteristics of forestry that made it such an inherent part of the nation’s economic life and economic regime? How did state forestry change over time? Why were state forestry industries privatized whereas state ownership and management of forests were never questioned? What does the persistence of state forestry tell us about the nature of the state in modern Turkey? This paper will explore these questions based on archival and ethnographic research. The history of Zingal, a Belgian forestry firm that was contracted by the young Republic to manage the forests south of Ayancik in Sinop province in northwestern Turkey will form the backbone of this study. The historical analysis will be coupled with ethnographic research conducted in Ayancik among forest villagers and state forestry personnel. By answering these questions through this case study, this paper will show the intricate relationship between forestry and nationalism within the larger project of state-making in modern Turkey.