How did you become interested in Armenians specifically or minority communities in Turkey more generally? As far as I know, you do not belong to a religious or ethnic minority yourself.
Osman Köker: My origins are Turkish, Muslim and Sunnite. I got drawn to these issues due to my interest in history, especially the history of Istanbul. When I began to study the history of Istanbul in detail, I came across the so-called “minorities” instead of the Turks under every stone I turned: architecture, commerce, culture... This promted me to start a comprehensive literature survey.
When was that?
The beginning of the 1990s. In that period, as always, there were campaigns targeting Christians and Jews under various pretexts. People sent around fax messages that read “these companies belong to Jews; do not buy their products.” As a result, I embraced the mission of monitoring minority rights and announcing any violations of their rights to the public. I was a journalist who wrote for various publications. At the Human Rights Association of Turkey a Minority Rights Monitoring Commission was set up. I joined the commission although I was not a member of the association. The commission became not only a platform for struggle, but also a school. It was the year 1993. At that time the historical and contemporary aspects of minority rights and rights violations were not really known. Armenians, Greeks, Jews and other groups had not yet started expressing themselves publically or were not able to make their voices heard. We published reports which denounced rights violations, issued declarations and did our utmost to access all information that concerned us. We broke our backs to unveil the truth. Starting from the 40th anniversary of the attacks of September 6-7, 1955, the commission tried to bring together everyone working on the subject, and opened the first exhibition ever on September 6-7. I was largely responsible for the research, penning the texts, finding the photos, and organizing -“curating” would sound too professional- the exhibition. There were almost no resources outside for a few studies published in the magazine Tarih ve Toplum, and a few of passages in two or three memoirs. I scanned the newspapers and parliament minutes of the period, as well as the documents of the Yassıada trials.
From 1994 onwards, I was part of the publications department of the history foundation Tarih Vakfı. I was the deputy editor-in-chief of the three-monthly magazine İstanbul, and then became the editor-in-chief of the foundation’s monthly magazine Toplumsal Tarih. When I tried to get more articles about non-Turkish and non-Muslim groups published in these magazines, I once again realized that the issue was barely explored and that there were very few academics or researchers who studied it. Universities and newspaper showed no interest in the issue. The publishers Belge Yayınları had issued a few books, the publishers Aras Yayıncılık was only recently established, and the Armenian weekly magazine Agos had not yet been established –I was going to work at Agos for three months as a journalist during its foundation. In other words, I had to try my hand at it. Most of the time, when I proposed that the magazine publish an article on the issue, I would have to do research and pen the article myself. As I wrote or edited articles on the matter, inevitably I became more and more knowledgeable on the issue.
However, it was really with the book Armenians in Turkey 100 Years Ago that I could analyze the issue in detail and people heard of my name. What was the Armenian community in Turkey like in the beginning of the 20th century; how many Armenians lived in which city, town and village; where were their churches, monasteries and schools; which newspapers and magazines did they publish; what kind of a role did they play in the economic and cultural lives of their localities? The book I edited explored all of these issues. When I set off to find 15-20 photos for the book, I learned about a very important collection. A collector named Orlando Carlo Calumeno had thousands of postcards depicting the Ottoman cities in the beginning of the 20th century. When he allowed me to use those postcards about the Armenians, the publication turned into a “book-cum-album.” When I was wondering how I could inform people about the book and make it accessible to a wider public, I came up with the idea of organizing an exhibition. The Turkey Representation of the Heinrich Böll Stiftung gave its support to the project, making possible the creation of a truly professional exhibition, from graphic design to publicity. As a result, the exhibition “Sireli Yeghpayrs (My Dear Brother): Armenians in Turkey 100 Years Ago, With Postcards from the Collection of Orlando Carlo Calumeno” opened its doors in early 2005. It created a huge impact. Some newspapers published full-page articles with numerous photographs, TVs interviewed us interviews. During the eleven days it remained open in Istanbul, around ten thousand people visited the exhibition and immediately afterwards, we received invitations from overseas.
I had to set up a publishing house to publish the book. At first, I thought I would close it down after issuing the book, but I decided to keep it open. That’s how we founded Birzamanlar Yayıncılık, which now publishes volumes and organizes events about Turkey’s past cultural diversity and its disappearance.
The exhibition “Sireli Yeghpayrs” played a pioneering role in 2005 by educating the general public on the matter...
I joined the debate, not by asking whether it was a genocide or not, or who had killed whom, but rather by discussing what the Armenian society was like historically and what its disappearance meant. This approach created empathy.
Did you collaborate with Armenians in preparing the exhibition and book? Did they contribute in any way?
I did not receive any financial support from them, but many of my Armenian friends made suggestions and contributed to the publicity campaign. I make a point of using different resources together, in comparative fashion. Those who study this issue in Turkey or overseas refer to either only Turkish resources, or to only Armenian and Western resources. There never had been a project blending all of these three. I made use of both Turkish and Ottoman resources, and publications by Westerners and Armenian resources. My Armenian-speaking friends gave me professional or volunteer support in enabling my access to Armenian resources. I also learned very rudimentary level of Armenian, which allows me to understand lists in Armenian about churches, monasteries and schools, read photo captions, and get a general idea about what a book or article is about. The thirteen-volume “Haygagan Sovedagan Hanrakidaran” (Armenian Soviet Encyclopedia) was published in Yerevan between 1974-1987, and each volume has about one thousand pages. I scanned the entire encyclopedia and found 1100 entries, mostly about a paragraph long, about Armenian settlements in Turkey, which were translated for me by a young Armenian friend. Another Armenian friend of mine collected from a number of sources Armenian newspapers and magazines published in early 20th century.
Comparing Turkish and Armenian sources, for instance finding the old and new Turkish names of villages cited in Armenian sources, is tough work. When I was not sure, I phoned the muhtars (village leader) of villages or researched the matter on site. For example, Armenian sources talk about a Medz Nor Küğ, or the new large village, in Bursa. It was very difficult, but in a way satisfying, to discover that this village was called the hamlet of Cedid in the district of Pazarköy in Ottoman times, and is now Yeniköy in the Orhangazi district. Say, if in a province, there are two villages which used to carry the same name in the past, you have to discover which of these two is the Armenian village cited in the sources and mention its new name in the book. As a last resort, you ask the muhtar of the village. It is not easy to get along with them. You cannot simply ask them on the phone, “Did your village use to be an Armenian village?” You ask whether it is a village populated by Turkish migrants from the Balkans (the muhacir). If the answer is affirmative, the village is most probably an old Armenian or Greek village. After they were forced to flee, the muhacir, that is, Muslim immigrants were settled in their place. You can’t ask “Was there a church there?” but rather “Are there any historical buildings such as mosques and baths in the village?” If he says “When my ancestors arrived in the village, there were no mosques but a church, which is now destroyed,” you understand that you are on the right track.
Were there any negative reactions to the exhibition and book?
A few, but nothing worth mentioning here. Most of the reactions were favorable. The exhibition featured convincing visual materials and objectively written texts: simple facts against which no one can file a lawsuit, or make a fuss about. Each display board focused on a city. In Turkey, people have strong ties to their cities of origin. As such, you would see Turks and Armenians from İzmit huddled in front of the display board about İzmit. One would say “I have heard about Greeks, but I did not know that Armenians lived in İzmit, too.” Another would say, “My parents used to live in İzmit, my father is from the neighborhood of Kozluk.” “When did they leave the town?” “We migrated to Istanbul in the 1950s, my uncle and his family lived there until 1974. In İzmit we still have relatives; they are Muslims now,” etc. They told each other numerous such stories, and shared their first hand experiences in a really intimate way.
Aside from the discourse of the exhibition and book, another reason for the lack of negative feedback was the period, I have to admit. Back then, the other side was not so organized. Aggression started especially after April 2005, when commemorations were held on the 90th anniversary of the genocide, such as the conference on the Armenian question, which was first scheduled for early summer at Boğaziçi University, but had to be postponed until the autumn at Bilgi University.
The positive feedback encouraged me. I prepared an overseas version of the exhibition, which visited Germany, France, Switzerland, the UK and Armenia and still receives invitations. In many countries that the exhibition could not visit, I presented the same materials in slide shows. I guess I have made over 30 such presentations in Turkey and abroad. On the local level, too, I made presentations about how cities were one hundred years ago and opened exhibitions on their past cultural diversity.
Your latest stop was Antakya...
Antakya was one of these cities. General history or political history does not influence people so much; and those who are influenced immediately choose a side and start acting in a partisan fashion. However, when you present them with very rich local information and visuals about a town or village they personally know, and build on that feeling of belonging to a locality, then they start feeling sympathy towards others which they might perceive as enemies in another context. They start to comprehend the suffering of others. Deep down inside, they feel that a better world has been lost, and that in a sense, they are also on the losing side.
When you use postal cards or other visual material to show that, say, a building used to belong to Armenians in the past, doesn’t this cause an uproar on the part of its current owners?
That might have been the case had I used a discourse of direct accusation, but things are different when you use a tender tone. In the final instance, when you explain that those people were killed and their property was confiscated, people feel sorrow. They do not become defensive. On the contrary, they start to confess, saying “my ancestors did such and such…”
A very common defensive argument is “Armenians killed Turks, too.” Does that come up often on a more local scale?
The basis of history is chronology, that is, the sequence of events. In Turkey, a key method for adulterating history is mixing up the chronology. When you correct the chronology in a chat, the problem is largely settled. The picture changes entirely when you say, “Of course Armenians might have killed Turks, they would not stand their idly, would they? When Turks forced them to flee, some Armenians took to the mountains and later came back for revenge.” On the other hand, you do not have to go the entire length of your argument anyhow. Most of the time, it is enough to arise certain emotions in your interlocutor. There is a saying which goes, “It is only to a fool that you have to tell everything.” In my visits, I do not go the entire length. I narrate a number of things, people are influenced to varying degrees, and most of them understand my full argument.
There are other cities that you are studying. What is your purpose, your dream?
İstanbul is a very important hub, which in a way includes a piece of every region of Turkey. There are people from all over, and very few of them consider themselves as Istanbulites. Even among those born in Istanbul, very few declare themselves to be Istanbulites. Everyone refers to where their parents hail from. Everyone has a contact with their home town, and those in the home town are interested in what is happening in Istanbul. I have been thinking of creating a museum for some time. It might not be called a museum, since in Turkey you have to go through immense red tape to set up a museum. Rather, a center which functions like a museum: A vast edifice which includes a permanent exhibition featuring objects and texts shedding light on the social life in towns across Turkey before the First World War, before the destruction of cultural diversity. How was Adana, Bursa, Trabzon or Mardin back then? Economic and social life, the material conditions, population statistics, Armenians, Greeks, Jews, Assyrians... Aside from this permanent exhibition, there could be temporary exhibitions, conferences, film screenings to make sure that visitors come back again and again... I have ample information on how Turkey was like one hundred years ago, city by city. I also have the contacts with collectors, which could allow me to get together visual materials and other objects; I also believe that the publishing house can finance such a venue without problems. The problem is finding the right place.
Is it hard to find a place in Istanbul?
A very large building will be necessary, maybe a multi-storey edifice. After some initial research I discovered that it would not be easy to find sponsor for such a place, and decided to start out with a smaller target. Last year, it was a simple intention, this year it became reality: Gallery Birzamanlar. In Pangaltı, there’s a bookstore called Nostalji Kültür, which sells exactly the kind of books that our publishing house releases. They allocated their vacant second floor to us. They do it out of solidarity, they do not demand any rent from us. We, in return, try to support the bookstore with our events. Our target is to inaugurate a new exhibition every two months, and hold a meeting every two months. The focus will not be on arts and culture in general; we limited our focus to the cultural diversity in Turkey’s history and its disappearance. The first exhibition was about the region of Antakya and İskenderun. The exhibition was opened in Hatay’s Arsuz district and the Armenian village of Vakıflı; probably, it will also be held in Antakya and İskenderun city centers in a couple of months.
From the exhibition “Sireli Yeghpayrs” in 2005 until today, there has indeed been a considerable change in the society. Do you think that the risk of aggression towards such projects has lessened or not in the last ten years?
The risk of aggression still exists. The real positive and permanent change is to be seen in the curiosity of the people. Compared to ten years ago, there today is much more interest and a readiness to learn towards the issues we are exploring. I believe that, for educational purposes too, it is important to create a large venue as I planned. For instance, for a high school history teacher, there is no such place that they can send their students to learn more about the culture and history of various regions in Turkey. Someone could establish an Armenian museum; indeed, such a place exists inside the Armenian patriarchate, although it cannot be visited by everyone all the time. The foundation called 500. Yıl Vakfı has established a Jewish Museum which is still active. Say, the Greeks might also create a similar museum in the future. Or ‘urban museums’ in various localities can play a similar role. However, people who share the same perspective with me should take the initiative to create a museum which will cover all the geographies and disappearing cultures of Turkey.
Here, it might be an advantage that you do not belong to a minority, since you are not under the obligation of narrating your own community’s experiences...
Indeed. I have to appeal to a more general public. One of my projects could draw more attention from one specific community, however, I always try to appeal to everyone, or to any average Turkish, Muslim and Sunnite person...
In Germany there are civil society initiatives for exploring local history. Is there such an endeavor in Turkey? Do people get together and research the history of their districts of cities?
A few such initiatives did appear in Turkey. When I worked at Tarih Vakfı, the foundation made efforts to create local history research initiatives and to set up a coordinating mechanism among them. Our endeavors might liven up such efforts, too. We have accumulated a considerable amount of information and visual material. When I worked on the first book and exhibition, I had accumulated ample information about the Armenian communities in Turkey. A friend of mine did the same for the Greek communities, and his work will be published in a couple of months. The next year, we will publish a few other studies which provide data on cultural diversity across Turkey. Birzamanlar Yayıncılık now has remarkable know-how in swiftly collecting basic information and visual materials about the situation of any city in the country one hundred years ago. We can carry out very extensive studies in cooperation with local civil society groups or municipalities and other public agencies.