Attorney A. Erdem Akyüz
Member of Ankara Bar Association,
General Director of Society of Law Sovereign
There have been discussions on recognition of Armenian Genocide committed by the Ottoman Empire carried out at the sessions of the Parliaments in various countries, and some resolutions for official recognition of Armenian Genocide has recently been passed by some of the Parliaments. Actually, accusation of Armenian Genocide has also been used as an instrument of bargaining and compulsion for Turkey to make some political or economical compromises before and after these resolutions.
Apart from the fact that it is still a question whether the crime was actually committed or who committed the genocide against whom, I would like to quote literally the memories of my father, who actually lived at the place and date regarding genocide accusations, without making any comments, but making a historical record by letting the reader to decide.
My father’s family is a well-known family residing in Erzurum for many decades. His family used to be called as “Molla Ahmet Oğulları” at the times when titles were used instead of surnames, and the family has a history that goes back to generations. My father, Mahir Akyüz, was born in 1903 in Erzurum. He is one of the first Judges of the Republic of Turkey. His professional life started when he was assigned as an interrogator (“Müstantik”) in 1926; he became an attorney at law admitted to Ankara Bar Association in 1968 and passed away in 1973. His photograph, which was taken in the period of his first assignment as a judge, is highly interesting as it reflects the fashion of that era.
He was a child at the age of 12-13 when Erzurum was invaded by Russians and Armenians in 1916. When Russians started to retreat as the result of Bolshevik Revolution in 1917, Erzurum was left to Armenians. My father used to narrate, without any hatred or particular malice whatsoever, some events starting from March 12, 1918 until Armenians left the country. I remember the following events narrated by my father at home during long nights as true stories based on his experiences:
TURKS WERE TAKEN AWAY FROM THEIR HOUSES (1)
“It was the times of Armenian and Russian invasion took place in Erzurum. It was a cold winter night. Our door was riotously knocked. Several armed Armenian invaders dressed like Comitadji[1] entered into the house. They took my father, Ahmet, and me out of the house by force. They knocked out my mother, Raife, who tried to stop them, with butt-stroke of their rifle. My little sister, Emine, cringed at the corner looking behind us with her scared eyes. Back then, I was a 12-13 years old child. My father was a white-bearded and old-aged person who was over the age of 60. They took us from our homes and put the entire neighborhood in line on the street. After they lined us up, a young Russian soldier approached us a little later. He said: ‘Old man, you are aged; take your kid and go!’ Then, we went back to our home. While we were trying to close the door, the door was wide open again. It was opened by one of the Armenian soldiers who previously came to our home and took us away. He cursed, took away, lined up and butt-stroked us again. While we were walking in line, the same young Russian soldier saw us once again. Then, he took us out of the line and signed us to go with his hand. We rushed to our home. We had a wooden cabinet where we used to put our bed mattresses. My father hid himself in the cabinet; my mother and sister covered him with blankets. My mother put me in tandoor. ‘Tandoor’ is an oven built underground for insulation; a fire is kindled inside, and it is used for baking breads and cooking foods in Erzurum houses. She closed the tandoor. It was not cold yet. My hands and feet hurt, but I could do nothing. After a while, I heard noises. Our house door was completely broken. They were messing up and breaking our goods into pieces. They were searching the house to find us. Then, I heard distant outcries; and they left. It took hours for me to get out of the tandoor; my mother covered my cheeks with a piece of cloth. We could go out at dawn on the next day. By shaking in the cold, we walked along with our neighbors consisting of old men, women and children, who were left behind. The mosque of our neighborhood was half burnt. You could still see the smoke rising up in the air. We found our neighbors who were taken from their houses at night. They couldn’t survive from the fire or the bullets.”
We used to hear my fathers’ childhood memories with fascination by sitting around the same tandoor in Erzurum, and we used to look at the burn marks on his hands and feet.
My father used to say that his big brother, Ismail, was a soldier fighting on Tripoli, Balkan and Caucasian fronts at the same time. He was fighting in defense of his country when his father and mother were under invasion. My father used to tell the followings about his brother with a great respect: “My big brother came from the front after the invasion. Fingers of his left hand were crushed. He used to pick up and hold me in his arms. I used to push his crushed fingers to open his hand, but he couldn’t hold his fingers straight and they were curled up just like a spring as soon as I stopped pushing his fingers. He used to tell me that he fell down when he was fighting at Caucasian front, and his fingers were crushed under the feet of one of the horses of chevaliers. Then he was called to front again. He never came back. They said that he became a prisoner of war in Russia.” My father, Mahir Akyüz, who witnessed the days of Armenian and Russian invasion, became one of the first judges of the Republic of Turkey by granting the title of interrogator (“Müstantik”) in 1926. As the result of long and exhausting researches that he carried out, he found the tomb of his big brother, “Ahmet oğlu Ismail” at “Turkish War Cemetery in Vladivostok, where he died as a martyr.
The photograph of my grandfather white-bearded Ahmet Akyüz, my grandmother Raife Akyüz and my father, Mahir Akyüz, who survived the genocide only by chance, shall be a historical witness with regards to their suffering and pain experienced 100 years ago. If my father couldn’t get out of the line that they were put or if they were caught by Armenian soldiers in my father’s house, none of the members of our family, his five children who became doctors, lawyers and engineers as well as our children, would not be born. In other words, not only his generation survived genocide, but also ours. Consequently, the fate of the neighborhood exposed to fire and bullets in the mosque ended up by suffering and losing their lives.
This Republic and State had experienced hard days in the last century. Undoubtedly, similar cases and stories could be found in any family witnessing the same period.
Attorney A. Erdem Akyüz
Member of Ankara Bar Association,
General Director of Society of Law Sovereign
[1] The term Komitadji (also known as Comitadji or Komitaji) (Bulgarian Комити; Romanian: Comitagiu; from Turkish: Komitacı, “a rebel, member of a secret revolutionary society”) refers to members of Bulgarian rebel bands operating in the Balkans during the final period of the Ottoman Empire, fighting against Turkish authorities and rival Greek and Serbian groups. Reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Komitadji
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