Art inherently sides with peace. So does literature… War cannot produce a culture. Its mere capital happens to be nothing but blood and tears. We are not pursuing the meddlesome types who describe it as the ‘art of killing’ humans. It is so because we are busy to address a provocative question in ever shrinking world:
“What did you do for peace today?”
Yes, what have we done today here at home and abroad? How deep have we contemplated peace? Have we provided a tiny bit of contribution to peace? After all, have we kept peace within ourselves? To what extend have we fought against the language of the ones who take advantage of terror and violence?
Have we sensed the choking breath of our old and exhausted world that cannot afford even lighting a match?
Posterities shall pose this question in case we shy away from it! They shall ceaselessly curse us by looking at the dirt and mess ranging from global terror to environmental terror we handed down to them
Then, what needs to be done?
To me, we ought to start turning our places green. Bearing in mind that in the written history of humanity we have been able to keep the peace at most for as long as three centuries… And what’s more, without a delay! Laying aside the shame of being late…
True, it is extremely difficult to keep the peace in class societies. War seems as near as a spark. Their cheap executioners, insidious agents, noisy advertisers, agent provocateurs stand by. Mines laid in their soft Achilles heels cause in time huge fires. In the smoky air, it becomes impossible to see through. A neighbor can slaughter another neighbor as a sibling can commit the same act. The ones who are for war and exploitation can do anything within their power to set peoples quarreling with one another
For our sake, the turmoil experienced during First Sharing War cannot be forgotten so easily. The Aegean and the Black Sea coasts are close relatives to suffering. In parallel with a rapid fractionation these incidents amount to the historical grieves gone through a watchword of ‘Aim and Shoot!’ Once triggers are pulled, the rest cannot do good anymore!
The population Exchange followed by so many deaths and sufferings proved to be the most horrible felony. When the mystery of bloody conspiracies would be unraveled as in Dido Sotiruyu of Şirince sends his greetings to his lands where he was born via his novel called ‘Say Hello to Anatolia on my Behalf’, and then truths and apologies pour in front us. Though it dawns on us late, we realize that we are of the same land:
‘Say hello, the bridegroom of Mehmet the Blind, to my homeland for me… For me, say hello to Anatolia… Let it not nurse a grudge because we washed its soil with blood… And God damn the executioners who had siblings kill each other!’ (1)
In effect, what gets hurt seems to be the ‘culture of coexistence’. In the environment where the friendlier days of harmoniously intermixing sounds of call for prayer and [Church] bells have been heedlessly deferred, then it is inevitable to have racist-chauvinist sentiments run high, and to have headlines been decorated with border violations, dogfights and so-called policy for ‘not letting even a pebble of country taken away’ as if it is a relay race. Generally nothing is spared to have young generations behave like enemies towards one another. So much so that, the existence of one generation would be made equal to the demise of the ‘other’. At this very point a language of art from two sides, a refined one free from patriotism comes into play. Makeshift walls, obstacles fall down by themselves. Fallacies and lies become known since any work created with rhetoric of human warmth points out to the future. ‘Read the Other One, Deep One, Which Lies Deep’ (by Gülten Akın) asserting the poet’s point in every aspect. Though in this line the poet calls attention to the plainness of the poem as well as mentioning about the roots of humanity.
Art, for sure, is a multiple concept with a heavy human emphasis within. From a poem to architecture of a temple, it is full with flying subtleties and concern for the future. Regardless of its genre, the condensed toil distilled through experiences makes itself manifest. From the moment, labor is crystallized; the residue of time pervades the created work. It does not recognize any limitation. Even if the cities were raised down, the states were buried in history, arts maintains its glamour. In successive evocations, experiences and endlessness hold hand in hand.
Frankly speaking, which power can conquer the memory? Which power can outperform the universality of art? Mehmet and Hristo of Aegean region can meet comfortably for a tune of a folk song. There is nothing artificial about fellowship of Uzo and raki, sirtaki and zeybek as well as horon. The culture of cohabitation that was shattered with huge blows still keeps its ground. In the blink of an eye, like a rejuvenating forest after many fires, suddenly the dominance of peace that is equal to human nature can expand all over.
The whole question begs us to raise peace-loving children with a sense of being open to examining what is going on, and being proud of their diversities. We have to embrace our common history with its bitter and sweet memories in order to reach a genuine consciousness of peace. Even it is impossible to reset grieves, always we are in a position to cleanse the future from evils. I dub this yearning as ‘a blue dream’ in line with the washing and cleaning functionality of the water. Wasn’t it Ritsos who in his renowned poem spoke of all dreams leading to peace? Nazım already had given the right formula by saying, ‘To live/ alone and free like a tree/ and as in a forest in fraternity / this longing is our one.’
I am aware that dreaming is a prerequisite for actualization. Yet the distance between a dream and truth should not be widened. Having been resolute about the fact that your dream is just a dream, art would not be stopped by any obstacle. In my poem called ‘About the Pebble Stones’ I, for example, state like the following:
“Don’t stand idle this time Don’t mix seine-nets and the fish casually mix and entwine them with each other Entangle them in such a way
let Alexander the Great’s sword have a hard time Nevermore the olive tree gets bruised out of this nor the discredited crown of daring laurels Let everybody catch a matching wind to themselves
let us run for the target with blue horses” (2)
When talking about the Blue Dreams, grief should be measured in depth. We have to take into account everything we have been shaken and harmed with. Exactly the way Dinçer Sümer questioned it in the ‘My Boat is Tied to the Shore’:
“As such making me writing and wandering,
passed down from my dad, an ache, the best thing;
To Alekos’ hand who handed in a knife,
why did my dad shoot that heavy bullet?
(- Son, who are those
turning neighbours and siblings into being at daggers drawn with each other?
Check out properly, you’d better get to know about it,
talk fearlessly!
Look, this is my last request!)” (3)
This is such a sorrow it eventually makes you numb to speak! Only art can live up to it to be its voice:
“Grape’s orphan olive’s parentless child it’s a refugee-like pace to a grief spilling from the tongue”( 4)
That grief carries us back to the millennia. The ones who did not read Homer’s Iliad do not need to learn from the past. The ones who do not take the ‘Trojan Women’ by Euripides tend to continue their life on the same axis.
Nevertheless, in recent years the peaceful winds blowing in from the Aegean prove to be stronger than ever. Doubtlessly, the figures of poets, writers, and people from the cinema world, researchers, and politicians living on the Western side of the Aegean left their remarkable traces not long ago. In poetry; Dinçer Sümer (his work of My Boat is Tied to the Shore contains only poems for peace), Fethi Savaşçı (befriends worker Hristo in Germany), Hüseyin Yurttaş (his poems for peace and population Exchange are mentioned in his several works), Ahmet Uysal (he flies poems from Assos to Lesbos Island), Sabahattin Yalkın (he includes his memoires), Cengiz Bektaş (he busies himselff with the architecture of peace), Süreyya Berfe (he hangs out with the tunes of experiences in Foça and Urla), Necati Yıldırım, Timuçin Özyürekli, Ahmet Günbaş, Kemal Gündüzalp, Bülent Güldal, Hamdi Topçu, A. Kadir Bilgin, Fergun Özelli, Mehmet Atilla, Atila Er, Turgut Baygın and many more poets churn their poems with peace. In novel; ‘Borrowed Dowry’ by Kemal Yalçın, ‘Children of War, Generations, from Crete to Cunda’ by Ahmet Yorulmaz, ‘Great Seperation’ by Kemal Anadol, ‘Oh Mana Mu’ by Handan Gökçek are among the peaceful works one can point to. It would quite natural for you if you wish to treat Tomris Giritlioğlu’s movie called ‘the Other Side of the Waters’ from the depths of a novel or a poem’s point of view.
In conclusion, the sensitivities of the ones who look at the same sea meet in the end at a certain point. From this angle, it is necessary to be part of any type of peace action that would be handled together with neighboring litterateurs. In my opinion writers and poets with their Anatolian roots like Dido Sotiruyu, Kozmas Politis and Yorgo Seferis still reside in their land of birth and upbringings. We could get the bottom of it if we adapt the concept of alienation of a human being to communities.
Artistic reaching out offers huge opportunities to us about holding hand in hand for peace on the Aegean and the Black Sea coasts.
I would like to end my words by pointing out the fact that Mr. Kazım Koyuncu, a revolutionist musician from the Black Sea region, believed in the principle of fellowship of the peoples.
This is the only way to go for peace!
(1) Say hello, the bridegroom of Mehmet the Blind, to my homeland for me – Dido Sotiriyu (Translated by Attilâ Tokatlı) Can Yayınları, 8th Edition. September 2008, page:259)
(2) Silk Wound – Ahmet Günbaş, İmbat Yayınevi, 1st Edition, October 2006, page:13
(3) My Boat is Tied to the Shore – Dinçer Sümer, Evrim Sanat, 1st Edition, April 1995
(4) Whistle Debt – Ahmet Günbaş, Hayal Yayınevi, 1st Edition, January 2010, page:17
English Translation by Mesut Şenol