The Ottoman Funeral

Ertugrul Osman Osmanoglu died last week. For the unfamiliar, this was a man ambitious enough to be born the grandson of a former Ottoman sultan, yet circumstances like the abolition of the throne in 1922 and his family’s exile in 1924 kept him from ever enjoying sultan-hood.

Of course, by the 20^th century Ottoman emperors spent most their time losing wars and trying to find where they misplaced all that money. Still, Ertugrul Osman would have been able to enjoy such imperial titles as “Khan of both lands and seas” and “Custodian of the holy cities” which to this day, is still the only custodial position that actually works with the ladies.

Turks quickly shed any interest in monarchs with the republic in 1923, instead shifting their idolization to the founder of the republic, denying generations of citizens from ever witnessing politically irrelevant royalty.

This could have easily been “Prince Osman VIII’s Yacht Party of Sin”

Meanwhile the Ottoman heirs settled for modest lives in exile and the occasional exclusive about their landlord troubles, a fate Europeans wouldn’t inflict on any but the most inconsequential barons or viscounts. Ertugrul Osman’s predecessor had only seven attendees at his 1994 funeral in France (link Turkish), several of whom were Tunisians picked up off the street.

Yet Friday’s funeral for the ‘last Ottoman’ was unusual not just because of the service at an imperial-era mosque in Istanbul or because he was buried in his grandfathers’ imperial tomb, but because throngs of Turks arrived and not just to get time off on a workday.

And so there are many different interpretations of what exactly has changed in the past 15 years:

The Pessimistic

The Ottoman sultan was not just the leader of the empire but also the leader of Islam (the Caliph).

When a mob of religious fundamentalists clamor to touch the casket (link Turkish) of someone who represents an abolished Caliphate, this might be a good time to purchase Qur’an futures and invest in headscarves.

The Optimistic

Some headlines declared “The way we see the Ottomans has changed” and “A mature republic has gotten over its Ottoman complex” (links Turkish).

Turks have traditionally been very selective with what history we praise (see: any time we won) and what we ignore (see: times we lost, Armenians, that Friday night we drank a fifth of bourbon), and now we are learning to come to terms with the past.

The Rabid

The Ottoman era reminds some of a time Turks dictated their own terms instead of having a bunch of pasty Europeans shame and/or bore us into behaving like them like today. This interpretation assumes the last two-hundred years of the empire never occurred.

The People Who Get Their News Three Months Late

Some were no doubt disappointed the ‘King of Pop’ had not requested to be buried in Istanbul.

The Realistic

In the end, touching the casket of a royal is the next best thing to seeing your sovereign in boxers on the cover of a tabloid.

The Sugar Holiday

Sunday marked the start of the Ramazan Bayrami (“Ramadan Holiday”), or Eid al-Fitr: a three-day celebration marking the end of Ramazan where Muslims the world over make up for a month of fasting and being nice by gorging themselves and being a little too festive.

Whether a Turk has fasted or not, a three-day national holiday is cause enough for celebration. Unless of course, the lunar calendar shifts the holiday forward that year and two of those three days come on a weekend in which case you curse the moon and go back to work.

After an Eid prayer at the mosque, the average Turk has a big breakfast, puts on their best clothes and gets in the family car for the customary traffic accident. Most people spend their Eid visiting relatives or going on vacation, both of which seem to require driving and ignorance of physics.

But Turkish Eid is more than just driving into other cars; when people do finally get to their relatives (the older the relative the better), children get a chance to wish them holiday greetings and the elderly get a chance to bribe their grandchildren with money or candy (hence why the holiday is also called “the Holiday of Sweets”).

In fact, children will visit neighbors, shopkeepers and anybody else that looks employed and offer their holiday greeting services in exchange for candy until the streets are filled with holiday cheer and tiny outstretched hands. Meanwhile, the adults are preparing big feasts for the family, giving to charity and shopping (even extremely un-Muslim IKEA released “A very Mubarak Eid” brochure). In a way, Eid is somewhere between the Muslim version of “Halloween,” the Muslim version of “Christmas,” and whatever Western holiday has a lot of car wrecks… possibly “Happy Hour.”

And if you are ever in Turkey during Eid and some children come up to wish you a happy Bayram, give them your money and candy as quickly as possible. Stalling on the side of the road is the surefire way to get their parents to drive into you.

The Coup Cycle

Sometimes when a general loves his country very, very much, he has to do things the country might not like. All the general wants is what is best for his little baby and, like a stern but loving father, sometimes has to put a gun to his little cupcake’s head.

Yesterday was the 29^th anniversary of the 1980 coup d'état, where the military took control of the state on the grounds that the government had been unable to curb mass-violence between left and right wing organizations (which the military had been fuelling), then proceeded to detain, blacklist, torture (links Turkish) and kill hundreds of thousands of citizens including political party leaders and… wait, the story is too convoluted to explain without a flowchart. You can use this flowchart to explain pretty much all of Turkey’s coups.

Staging coups still the best way to impress one’s friends in Turkey

Since 1980 there have been stern warnings, like the military dissolving the ruling party in 1997 because it was going through a “religious phase” and an e-coup in 2007 when the army finally figured out how to get that dang computer to work, but the people have been far less tolerant of an outright coup.

Turks may still have yet to confront the generals of 1980 but at least we have learned that sometimes, an army can love too much.

The Istanbul Flood

Istanbul’s weather was a hit with the international media this week with “Flooding kills 31 in Turkey,” “Heaviest rains in 80 years...,” “‘Once in a century’ downpour...,” “... govt under fire,” “Istanbul mayor promises reform after deadly floods” all implying a high degree of precipitation. Meanwhile the Turkish press released numerous photos that looked like someone drove a bus into a river.

And the media attention is well-deserved: floods are one of the most camera-friendly natural disasters for the sheer number of suffering that can fit into a single shot (right after earthquakes and Africa). Yet most of Istanbul was too busy under the sun to witness the city sinking into the sea.

Admittedly, there was the occasional city-wide “menacing” overcast, but nothing to justify the steady stream of death and destruction talked about in the media. Tens did die and certain areas suffered tens of millions of dollars in damage, but the damage was mostly restricted to the relative outskirts of town.

About a 45 minute drive, or a 3 hour swim, from downtown Istanbul

Yet even if the majority of Istanbulites weren’t experiencing the downpour, the ample media coverage did provide Turks with several of their favorite pastimes:

• Anticipating imminent threat; whether this be armed neighbors or condensed water vapor, everybody wants a piece of Turkey.

• Playing the blame game; immediately after the flooding began, the main opposition party leader demanded the Istanbul mayor, a member of the ruling party, resign. Also, many have traced the flood-prone residential zoning to back when the current Prime Minister was the mayor of Istanbul. If there is a problem, someone must be responsible, unless they are your friend.

• One-upping Greeks; Greco-Turkish competition has bordered on enmity at worst and rivalry at best, and with wildfires in Athens just two weeks prior, Turkey was able to upstage its neighbor with an even more picturesque flood. This was most likely payback for the time Athens tried to have an earthquake two weeks after our 7.6 in Izmit (though they only managed a 6.0).

So it wasn’t really a case of the media blowing the floods out of proportion, but floating Turks always provide good entertainment on a slow news week.

The Army Day

Armies have it rough: criticized for being too expensive during peace, too violent during war and occasionally investigated for coup-related activities, an army can sometimes feel a little under-appreciated. Which is why last Sunday Turkey celebrated its 87^th Victory and Armed Forces Day, essentially a birthday party for the military if birthday parties had less cake and everyone had to dress the same.

August 30^th is actually the anniversary of the final decisive battle against Greece in the Turkish war of independence, but somewhere along the line it became less about scoffing at Greece and more about ostentatious displays of military might.

Military parades marched through every Turkish city providing grateful citizens an opportunity to express, no matter how many officers we keep indicting for treason, how the army will always be in our hearts and hopefully, not driving tanks through our living rooms.

The M60A3 corners well enough to get around even the most ill-positioned sofas

Having defeated foreign occupiers, established a republic, staged coups whenever “elections” undermined “the republic” and convinced Turks neighbors would pounce any second, the military has traditionally been highly revered. But recent years have seen the sacred institution come under scrutiny over both an alleged plot paving the way for another coup and questions whether “democracy” and “meddling army” were ever really compatible.

And so the army went all out this year, with bigger parades, all 60 units being represented in the capital for the first time (in previous years only 4 would be) and even multimedia CDs and booklets showcasing military might distributed to the audience. There was even a new slogan, “Güçlü Ordu, Güçlü Türkiye” (Strong Army, Strong Turkey) which became the official slogan of the festivities and adorned billboards throughout the country.

But no matter how much the military spent on this PR-blitz and/or open threat, all the billboards and CDs where just not enough for some like Etyen Mahçupyan in today’s Taraf newspaper (link Turkish):

“On the way out of Bodrum, there was a giant billboard: ‘Strong Army, Strong Turkey.’ Turns out this was a cliché they came up for August 30^th… One hesitates upon first reading, it is hard to choose which one…”

Which just goes to show how unappreciated the life of an army can be. So next time the military comes knocking for a little respect, the least you can do is push the sofas off to the side to make room for the tank.