Stories of Exile: My Family's Story

A picture of me in my grandmother's family estate in Hatıp Köyü in the 1980s. Behind me, you can see the hazelnut harvest being sundried.

I grew up with a strong sense of being Circassian. My mother is Circassian on both her maternal and paternal sides. My grandmother spoke Adyghe, which my mother and her older sister understood and occasionally also spoke.

To hear the Circassian (Adyghe) language and some Circassian names, watch this video (available with Turkish and English subtitles). Consider that Circassians are a minority group in Turkey. This "PSA" is encouraging Circassians living in Turkey to give their children Circassian names to keep the culture and traditions alive. Nobody in my immediate family was given a Circassian name.

In my childhood memories, being Circassian is associated with my grandmother's witty Circassian stories (mainly about Circassian travelers and their strange encounters with the "Turks"), endless hospitality (a core feature of Circassian Xabze), and a few visits to Düzce and Hatıp Köyü, the Circassian village where grandmother grew up and where my mother spent her summers during her formative years. Thanks to my interlocutor and distant cousin Şener Kazokoğlu, I found papers that establish Hatıp Köyü (also known as Söğütlü) as a Circassian village in 1896. According to the 1896 Kastamonu population records (Kastamonu Salnamesi), Hatıp Köyü was an Ubykh and Shapsugh village with 39 homes and 230 population.

The picture above was taken during a rare visit my family took to Hatip Köyü, to attend a wedding. In the photo, you can see the hazelnut harvest being sundried behind me. Turkey leads the world in hazelnut production with 70% of the world's hazelnuts grown in Turkey. Hazelnut grows well in the Black Sea region, which is where Düzce is located. My mother's family also grew and sold tobacco in the 1960s but they no longer do. The commodification of farming, global forces, and neoliberal farming policies have hurt farmers in Turkey, including my mother's family members. Migration from rural to urban areas has been common over the last century, with 76% of the Turkish population living in rural areas in 1927 down to only 8.2% in 2014.

My grandmother

Back of the photo above. It reads, in my grandmother's handwriting: To my dear mother, a little memory from your daughter. Müzeyyen." It was taken in photo studio Foto Zafer in Kayseri, Turkey, where my grandfather was serving as a police officer.

Her lineage

My maternal grandmother, Müzeyyen Gürsoy (née Durmaz) and her family belonged to the Ubykh tribe of the Adyghe people (or Circassians, as they’re referred to in Turkey). The Ubykh lived in Northwestern Caucasia, around what is today the Russian city of Sochi. My grandmother is from the Hamte family. Her father’s name was Hamte Ahmet, her mother’s name was Nesibe.

According to family lore, her father Hamte Ahmet came from Caucasia with 40 slaves and sold them to the Ottoman palace. He was from a noble family back in Caucasia and owned a village of 40 homes. In Istanbul, he married an Egyptian noblewoman who ended up going back to Egypt. So, he came to Düzce with his horse and his saz (a plucked string instrument, a long-necked lute) and married Nesibe, a widowed woman with six children, as arranged by the village eldermen (thamates). Nesibe was well-off as well. They had two more children: Cavidan and Müzeyyen, my grandmother, the youngest of eight.

My grandmother's birth year is believed to be 1920 or 1921 (unknown for sure, as her birth was not registered at the Population Office, which was common for female babies). She was born in the Circassian village of Hatıp Köyü, near the city of Düzce in Turkey. She married my grandfather in 1938 and moved to Kayseri where he was stationed as a police officer. In the picture on the left, she is a newly married 18 year old in Kayseri, a provincial town in Central Anatolia. On the back side of the photo she writes, in her handwriting: "To my dear mother, a little memory from your daughter, Müzeyyen." My grandmother never had any formal schooling and had to teach herself how to read and write with the Latin alphabet (as opposed to the Arabic alphabet, which was more commonly taught back then), after the Turkish Republic adopted a Turkish version of the Latin alphabet in 1928.

My maternal grandparents had three daughters: Sema in 1942, Tülay (* my mother * officially Seval) in 1943, and Tülin in 1953. My eldest aunt Sema had one child, Yeşim, who lives in Germany. My mother had two children, me and my brother. I live in the U.S. and my brother lives in the U.K. Curiously, we all have our own migration stories. Another curious thing is that none of the three girls married Circassians.

My grandmother lived a long and healthy life. She passed away on November 10, 2016 in Istanbul, Turkey, when my twins were about seven months old. She has never met them as they were born in San Francisco.

My grandmother's brother, Hakkı Dayı, on horseback, 1950s

The father she has never met

One of the most memorable aspects of my grandmother’s life was that she never met her father, Hamte Ahmet. As a child who grew up with a loving father, this was unimaginable to me,.

And the reason she never met her father was even more unimaginable and heartbreaking. Her father was denaturalized by the Turkish Republic (where he was already in exile) and presumably died in exile in Greece, probably a few years after her birth.

One of the 150 "traitors": Hamte Ahmet, my great-grandfather

When I started this project, I didn't know I would find my great-grandfather's name on Wikipedia! When I googled his name for the first time and a Wikipedia article about the 150 "traitors" came up, I knew I was on the right track. Even though my mom had always said he was a 150'er (Yüzelliliklerden) finding his name at #73 was surreal (see below). There he was, my direct ancestor, on a list of 150 personae-non-gratae of the Turkish Republic. My grandmother never talked about him. But somehow, when I found his name, I felt I became connected with him: it was like saying hello to my grandmother. It was like meeting my great-grandfather for the first time. What was he like? What did he look like (there are no pictures of him, that I know of)? What did he believe? Why has he not contacted his family after his exile? Where and under what circumstances did he die? I thought about how grandmother never met her father. When I asked around in the course of my research, I didn't find anything concrete about him. The family lore is that he died in Greece. An amnesty was granted to the group he was denaturalized and exiled with in 1938. Is it safe to assume he died before 1938?

My great-grandfather's name, as listed among the 150 on Wikipedia under the heading "participant envoys to the Circassian Convention:" https://tr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Y%C3%BCzellilikler

A Quick History of the "Hundred-and-Fiftiers"

My ancestors, as many Circassians, made a home for themselves in the Ottoman Empire, after fleeing the Russian Empire in the second half of 19th century. However, at the time, the Ottoman Empire was also disintegrating. The Empire had lost many of its territories in Eastern Europe, Africa, the Arabian peninsula, and Caucasia. After its defeat in World War I, many parts of what remained was occupied by the Allied forces (Great Britain, France, Italy, and Greece particularly) between 1919 and 1922. A Turkish nationalistic movement led by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk fought and won a war of independence to rid the country of the occupiers and declared the Republic of Turkey in 1923. In 1923, the Lausanne Treaty was signed between the Allied Forces and the Turkish Republic, which, among other things, recognized the sovereignty of the latter. Annex VIII to the treaty, called "Declaration of Amnesty", granted immunity to the perpetrators of any crimes "connected to political events" committed between 1914 and 1922, which effectively exempted Ottoman officials from persecution for war crimes, notably, the Armenian genocide and other atrocities committed between 1914-1922.

The Lausanne Treaty, upon the Turkish government's request, made an exception to these exemptions, however: One-hundred-and-fifty men were declared "personae non gratae" , denied Turkish citizenship and subsequently exiled from Turkey. The first 56 personae non gratae listed among these "Hundred-and-Fiftiers" were members of the Ottoman court, who were deemed to have betrayed the country by allowing the Allied forces to occupy it. But one of the most striking things about the 150 denaturalized men is that the majority of them (86) happen to be Circassians.

Hamte (or Hamete or Hamta) Ahmet, my great-grandfather, is listed at #73, under "participant envoys to the Circassian Convention." The Circassian Convention (Çerkes Kongresi) met in Izmir on October 24, 1921 and declared that they have seen the Kemalists' (founders of Turkey) inhuman actions and wrongful policies, and therefore wished to live under the "civilized Greek government" in peace (Özoğlu 2011, 93). The declaration accused the Committee of Union and Progress (Ittihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti) of autocratic Turkification policies and blamed them for the Circassian population's numerical stagnation in the Ottoman Empire. They claimed Circassian population should have reached six million, instead of its current two million under the Empire's auspices (ibid.). Özoğlu notes that the Convention's anti-Ankara (the capital of the Turkish Republic, as opposed to Istanbul, the seat of the Ottoman court) sentiments were clear. Regardless, it is curious to me how this particular group was singled out as the worst of the worst.

I try to imagine what it must have been like to belong to an ethnic minority group in the early 1900s, and to be Circassian in particular. The history of the region is already filled with atrocities and genocide. Circassians in particular came to the Ottoman Empire as refugees (muhajirs, as Muslim refugees were called at the time) from Caucasia, and were given some rights: they were given free land, also, "muhajirs received an exemption from military service for twenty-five years and from taxes for six years in the Balkans and twelve years in Anatolia. Allowances for muhajirs commonly included a one-time grant of cattle (ideally, a pair of oxen per household), crop seeds, and farming tools." (Hamed-Troyansky 2018, 15-16).

Hamed-Troyansky's work paints a clear picture of how the refugees tried to integrate into Ottoman Empire. The Khutatzade's story is a case in point: especially the well-to-do Circassian families became officers in the Ottoman military and worked their way up to establish their place in their adopted country. Many of these Circassian officers like Rauf Orbay later joined the republican founders to topple the treasonous Ottoman court while some Circassian notables like Ahmet Aznavur and Sefer Berzeg Bey remained loyal to the Ottoman court, perhaps due to their religious allegiance to the Sultan's Caliphate title, which designated him as the leader of all Muslims. Both positions are understandable from the refugee standpoint. Perhaps the most (in)famous Circassian figure from that time period, Çerkes Ethem (Ethem the Circassian), another persona non grata (one of the 150), occupies a more complex position as someone who initially served the Republican forces but eventually fell from their graces due to his rebellious, hot-blooded nature. Muhittin Ünal (1996) notes that the identifier "Circassian" is added to his name after the fallout. One also needs to understand that many other geopolitical forces played a role. For example, Muhittin Ünal (1996) points out that Ethem's brother Reşit was a socialist and admired the Russian Bolshevik Revolution of 1917. Surely, one can imagine that allegiances to the "motherland" played a role here too. One final claim an interlocutor related to me is that the Circassian Convention of Izmir was a British ploy to aid in British efforts to weaken the newly emerging Turkish Republic and help in Britain's colonization efforts in the Middle East. Taking advantage of and aiding in Ottoman disintegration, the Sykes-Picot agreement of 1916 carved up the Middle East and created the French mandate over Syria and Lebanon, and the British mandate over Palestine and what was to become modern-day Iraq, sowing the seeds of many Middle Eastern conflicts of our day.

I don't know what my great-grandfather's motivations were in attending the Convention or whether he agreed with the final declaration. I will continue searching for answers. One thing I take issue with is the stereotype of the hot-blooded Circassian who rode horses and fought the Cossacks in mountainous Caucasia and therefore has an impulsive, untamable nature. This essentialist construction is reductionist, in my opinion. Humans are complex and so is history, so it's probably best to evaluate their actions against a socio-historical backdrop, rather than assuming a certain kind of Circassian "nature."

My maternal grandfather in his 20s

My grandfather

My maternal grandfather, İhsan Adli Gürsoy, was from the Ubykh tribe, Kets'a (Getsa or Kes'a -spelling Adyghe words is tricky with the Latin alphabet) family. His father Kazım worked in the office of land registry (tapu müdürlüğü) and was a well-educated man. When the "surname law" was passed in 1934, my grandfather, on his family's behalf, took the last name Gürsoy, which means "strong lineage" in Turkish. With this law, the adoption of foreign names as last names was banned. Henceforth, the Circassian family names were lost or at least are not officially used.

His mother Censeriye was from an Abaza tribe and not well liked by her sisters-in-law (there is a sense of hierarchy between Circassian tribes and groups identified as Circassian - Abaza tribes not enjoying a high status). His mother passed away when he was nine, and my grandfather was subsequently sent to live with his paternal aunt (hala), Nafiye, who lived in Istanbul.

Circassian family in Bafra, Samsun, ca. 1945. My grandfather, kneeling in front. Per my mother, he had traveled there to ask Şükran's (standing, second from the right) hand in marriage, on behalf of his younger brother, Kemal.

My grandfather with his brother Kemal's family. From left to right: his niece Nükhet, his sister-in-law Şükran, Hafız Yenge (a distant relative), his nephew Haluk, his daughter Tülin, his brother Kemal, and my grandfather İhsan.

Namık İsmail, Self-portrait, 1918. Wikimedia Commons.

In 1919, while Istanbul was under British occupation following the Ottoman Empire's defeat in World War I, my grandfather was sent to Istanbul by boat to live with his paternal aunt. He used to describe the scene as "Istanbul was under quarantine." His distant relative, famous painter Namık İsmail, was sent to fetch him from the ferry. Since the British did not let the passengers disembark, Namık İsmail arrived on a sailboat wearing all white, and was able to retrieve my grandfather, presumably due to his connections in high places.

My grandfather completed the police academy and married my grandmother in 1938. He served as a police officer, and later as police chief in Kayseri, Mazgirt (Dersim), Istanbul, and Adıyaman. They had three daughters: Sema, Tülay, and Tülin. My grandfather passed away in 1995, my freshman year in college.

My maternal family in Çınarcık, ca. 1983. I have fond memories of this day when we visited distant relatives in Çınarcık where we spent summers until I was about 11.

From left to right: My mother, my cousin Yeşim, my grandmother, my grandfather, (behind him) Deniz Bey, a distant relative, my aunt, Ayla Hanım, a distant relative, (in front) Ayla and Deniz's younger daughter, kneeling, my father, me, Ayla and Deniz's younger daughter, my brother.

My mother, grandmother, and my mother's younger sister in Bursa, ca. 1963

My maternal grandparents at the police camp where they would spend a few weeks in the summer. This is where my parents met as both of my grandfathers were police officers.

My ancestors' journey across the Black Sea: From Sochi to Düzce

Little is known about our family's journey from the Caucasus. The closest I have come is that the Ubykh are from coastal Northwestern Caucasus, the area around what's today the Russian city of Sochi. They first arrived in the port city of Samsun. Then, they've settled in Düzce.

Please click on the image above to watch their journey unfold on Google Earth.

You may also watch it here as a video.

Circassian Exile Stories are not told

It is curious to me why the story of my ancestors' exile is so inaccessible. This is not unique to my family, however. There are many emerging oral history projects on Circassian exile (for a good example, see Ulaş Sunata's work) but I haven't encountered too many detailed narrations of the experience of the exile itself, the homeland, the arduous journey, the lost relatives etc. I attribute this to the trauma and the distance of the events in history. While my grandmother passed down the Circassian culture somewhat through stories, food, language etc., her family's story is almost forgotten (except for this writing). In the next section, I will trace down the story of the Khutatzades, which historian Vladimir Hamed-Troyansky has pieced together through personal letters between two brothers Fuat and Cevat Beys.

My Father's Side: Another Muhajir Story

Ahmet buyukbaba family tree.pdf

While my father's family is not Circassian, they have also arrived within the borders of today's Turkey through migration. I have recently found this family tree my paternal grandfather, Ahmet Şanlı, has prepared. In it, he has not only painstakingly traced down the names of all of his relatives, he has also provided a few key pieces of information. He wrote, in Turkish "1316 yılında babam Hicret suretile gelmiştir" or "my father came in 1316 through migration."

Now, you may wonder: 1316? I remember older generations referring to dates in this manner. It is dates stated according to the Islamic (or Hijri) calendar, which is based on Prophet Mohammed's "hicret," that is, holy migration from Mecca to Medina as year 1 (instead of the birth of Jesus Christ in the Greogorian calendar, which we use in the Western world), and is based on the lunar cycle.

For example, today's date, May 7, 2021 would in the Islamic calendar be 25 Ramadan 1442.

Thus, according to my grandfather, his father migrated in 1898 or 1899. And we know exactly from where: From Iriler, Hasköy, Filibe. That is, Haskovo near Plovdiv in modern day Bulgaria.

My father at 19 years old in 1960.

The Şanlı Family, ca. 1950. From left to right: My father Metin, his older brother Hayrettin, my grandmother Sıdıka, my aunt Zehra, my grandfather Ahmet (the creator of the family tree above), and my father's twin brother Çetin

Please click on the photo to see their journey in Google Earth.

So, my ancestors left the Balkans for Anatolia in late 19th century, which makes them, like my maternal side, muhajirs. The historical context is as follows:

"The muhajir are the estimated 10 million Ottoman Muslim citizens, and their descendants who emigrated to Thrace and Anatolia from the late 18th century until the end of the 20th century, to escape ongoing ethnic cleansing and persecution. Today, between a third and a quarter of Turkey's population of almost 80 million have ancestry from these muhajirs." Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muhacir#CITEREFBosmaLucassenOostindie2012

Also see Bosma et al. (2012)

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