Category: Culture/Art

Land before time – south-eastern Turkey

Land before time – south-eastern Turkey

Story and photos by LOUISA LIM
louisa@thestar.com.my

Where time stood still: The writer in front of the Mausoleum of Zeynel Bey in Hasankeyf.

Even to adventurers, south-eastern Turkey is terra incognita. However, those who dare tread its lesser-known roads will be greatly rewarded – with pistachios, smiles and soul-searing sights.

THE red flag appeared in the periphery of the world news section of a local daily: “Car bomb kills one, wounds 18 in south-eastern Turkey.”

But I knew it was too late to turn back. My flight and hotels had been booked and, besides, hadn’t I always longed to go on an exciting adventure before I hit the big Three O?

So it was with no small degree of trepidation that I set off on a bus ride through one of the world’s last tourism frontiers, southeastern Turkey (or Turkish Kurdistan, if you like). Bordered by Syria to the south and Iraq to the southeast, this landlocked region is PKK (Kurdistan Workers’ Party) territory and a no-man’s land.

For nearly two decades, this was the epicentre of the Kurdish rebellion. Coupled with harsh weather, Third World infrastructure and scant tourist facilities, southeastern Turkey was off-limits to travellers and Turks from Western Anatolia.

Until recently, that is. Security levels are improving.

The New York Times listed Kurdistan as No 34 on its list of 41 places to travel in 2011 (it beat Budapest and Miami). However, this has had little effect on tourism numbers – only hardy backpackers and die-hard adventurers trickle in by the handful.

As my bus wound its way around the barren wilderness punctuated by the occasional desiccated shrub, I saw Mother Nature flaunt her assets. Around me were sheer sandstone cliffs dropping precipitously into nowhere and deserted hilltop citadels tinted golden by the unrelenting sun.

Harran, one of the world’s oldest continuous inhabited spots, where traditional mud brick ‘beehive’ houses still stand.

Sand soon gave way to concrete as the bus rumbled past rows of unsightly apartment blocks that scars nearly every town, signalling that we were close to Urfa, one of Southeastern Anatolia’s largest towns. Nearby was an army checkpoint, surrounded by menacing barb wires and sandbags piled high – an intimidating sight even to the bravest soul.

Nonetheless, I waved at the weary-faced soldiers, curious to see how they would respond. They waved back, all smiles.

Once the stomping ground of Prophet Abraham, Urfa is replete with biblical and Quranic lore and ancient Islamic edifices. Its proximity to Syria also means that the city radiates a distinctly Arabic vibe. With the muezzin’s call to prayer as background track, women clad in hijab and burqa and mustachioed men in keffiyeh (loose robes) clutching prayer beads go about their daily lives.

As the only East Asian around, I felt as conspicuous as a human on a planet filled with eight-legged ETs. Then I saw a little girl staring open-mouthed at me.

“Mama, too-rist!” yelped another little girl, tugging urgently at her mother’s shirt-sleeves.

“Merhaba (Hello)!” greeted mother and daughter in unison, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Witnessing the scene, another local ambled over with some apple-flavoured tea and watched in amusement as I gingerly took a sip.

Ancient wander

Just like the centuries of visiting pilgrims before me, I started by paying my respects to the great prophet in Golbasi, one of the few green lungs in the city. Golbasi isn’t just any park however – this was the place where Prophet Abraham and monotheism was born.

The story goes like this: Nimrod, the local Assyrian King, received a prophetic dream that a child would be born who would overthrow his rule. As a result, he had every baby in his kingdom killed except for Abraham, who was hidden in a nearby cave. When Abraham was discovered years later, Nimrod tried to cast him into a burning pit. But God saved Abraham by turning flames into water and the firewood to carp.

A boy selling simit, or Turkish-style pretzel, in the Urfa’s historic bazaar.

These days, it is considered auspicious to feed the thousands of sacred carp that still live in the pools in Golbasi.

Then I dove headlong into Urfa’s bazaar, with its tangle of narrow streets lined with copper craftsmen and chain-smoking vendors who hawk everything from spices and sheepskins, to jeans and ceremonial costumes. Built in the mid-16th century by Suleiman the Magnificent, the bazaar is the go-to place for bargain-loving locals.

Wandering past the bedesten (a covered market built during the Ottoman period), where fabrics were sold, I found myself in a busy courtyard filled with the click-clacking sounds of dice and backgammon being played by tea-swilling men. A boy walked among them, balancing a large tray piled high with simit, or Turkish-style pretzels, on his head.

Everything is delightfully antique in these parts, and Urfa and its surroundings are no exception. Six miles from there is Göbekli Tepe, one of the most startling archaeological discoveries of our time: massive monoliths that the National Geographic described as “vaguely similar to Stonehenge, except that Göbekli Tepe was built much earlier and is made not from roughly hewn blocks, but from cleanly carved limestone pillars splashed with bas-reliefs of animals – a cavalcade of gazelles, snakes, foxes, scorpions, and ferocious wild boars.”

As my tour guide Uraz Nehir and I straggled up the hill where Göbekli Tepe is situated, we began talking about the PKK and their crippling effects on the region’s economy.

“There were talks of ceasefire, but the fights resumed five or six months ago,” said Nehir, a fiercely patriotic and progressive Ankara-born Turk in his 20s.

“Many Kurdish themselves do not approve of the PKK. Too many innocent lives are lost; people just want to live normally.”

Nehir, who has visited this region a few times, claimed tour guides are paid extra money for tours to southeastern Turkey because of the “long bus rides” and “unpredictability”. Thankfully, our journey was disrupted only once when the UK government issued a warning on one of the highways we were supposed to take.

It was reported that the PKK had been rigging the highway’s petrol kiosks with explosives. Consequently, we had to take a 10-hour detour.

“If there is a fight, we change our route. So far, nothing bad has happened and I’m still alive,” he said. “Don’t worry!”

Disappearing act

Pointing to several foreign archaeologists excavating under the cloudless sky, Nehir said, “The oldest history in the world is written in this part of Anatolia. That’s what makes it so special.”

My heart skipped a beat. Here I was, at – some say – the original site of the Garden of Eden.

In the opinion of Klaus Schmidt, the German archaeologist who has been working here more than a decade, Göbekli Tepe was the site of the world’s first temple.

From there, we travelled to Mount Nemrut National Park, home to the monuments of an ancient megalomaniac. The views from the bus were breathtaking.

Squat trees grew wildly in a river valley of spectacular proportions, and the occasional villager plodded by, leading his donkey. We stopped at a safe bend, and Nehir strode over to one of the bushes to grab – it seemed – a fistful of flower buds. It was only after he handed some to me that I realised that we were standing next to a cluster of pistachio trees.

The Turks call pistachios fistik, which is also slang for “hot babe” – a testament to how much they love it.

We arrived at Mount Nemrut after braving a bumpy, dusty and – to cap it all off – winding road up the mountains. Looming before us was the immense burial mound of King Antiochus, with its array of gigantic marble heads severed from their stone bodies. To reach the site, one had to climb for another mile on foot, but there were also donkeys at the foothill one could hire for a fee.

Intent on incinerating the calories from my two-week diet of kebab and baklava, I opted to scale the heights of the 50m super-structure. Soon, I came face-to-face with the big, broody heads that I had found so strangely compelling, even in photographs. The sun was starting to set, casting a rosy glow on the deities, among them Greek Gods, eagles, lions and the king himself.

One travel guide describes the Nemrut ensemble, which includes reliefs, a cave cistern and ruins of columns, as “one of the most awesome sights in all of Anatolia.”

It would be a shame if these edifices didn’t last. According to several media sources, Hasankeyf, for one, is destined to vanish beneath the waters of the Ilisu Dam, the largest hydropower project in Turkey, slated to be completed next year.

The proposed dam will flood an area from Batman to Midyat, drowning the historic site and several other archeological treasures, displacing 37 villages.

The Washington Institute, however, was optimistic over the project, claiming that the dam was imperative for counter-terrorism purposes.

“This area is pierced by canyons that run for tens of miles and are hundreds of feet deep. In fact, it would not be exaggerated to describe these canyons as sort of a ‘PKK highway’,” said its website.

And when it’s completed, the Ilisu dam would flood these canyons, blocking this “PKK highway”.

But these fierce rebels did little to ruin my amazing trip so far. We decided to celebrate our journey in a meyhane, a traditional bar playing Kurdish music.

The Turks are known to enjoy an occasional pint and jive, and anyone who can snap fingers and swivel their hips are welcome on the dance floor. As I boogied with my newfound friends, my worries evaporated, replaced by irrepressible feelings of joy.

January 21, 2013
Knives Out: Turkey’s and Armenia’s War Over Food

In the Caucasus, culinary nationalism is an extension of the region’s long-simmering disputes.

A demonstrator sets fire to a Turkish flag as he attends a torch-bearing march marking the anniversary of the 1915 mass killings of Armenians in Ottoman Empire, in Yerevan on April 23, 2010. (Reuters)

There is perhaps nothing more closely bound up with one’s national identity than food. Specific local dishes are often seen as the embodiment of various cultures and many nations promote their food as a celebration of national identity. Sometimes, however, a country’s cuisine can also be used to highlight national rivalries.

Czechs, for example, sometimes affectionately (some would say condescendingly) refer to their Slovak cousins as “Halusky” after the typical gnocchi dish that comprises part of their national cuisine. Similarly, the English often disparagingly call their French neighbors “Frogs” because of the Gallic penchant for eating the legs of said amphibians.

Culinary flashpoints can also arise when neighboring nations all lay claim to the same regional dish. For instance, the Scots, English, and the Irish often bicker about whose fried breakfast is the original and the best of the species.

In the volatile Caucasus region, though, it seems that such food fights have now been taken to a whole new level. As Eurasianet.org reports, many Armenians are up in arms about a recent UNESCO decision to add the Anatolian stew “Keshkek” to its Intangible Cultural Heritage List on behalf of Turkey. They claim that “Keshkek” is actually an Armenian meal, which they call “Harissa.”

Now a group of ethnographers from Turkey’s eastern neighbor are actually compiling information on the dish to appeal the ruling by the UN’s cultural agency.

According to the News.am website, Sedrak Mamulyan, the chairman of the “Development and Preservation of Armenian Culinary Traditions” organization, is intent on demonstrating that “the utensils, methods, and ingredients used for making…Harissa have a pure Armenian origin and it is a purely Armenian dish.” The same organization has also attacked Georgia for commandeering “Khash.” It insists that this tasty beef soup is in fact an Armenian national dish.

Armenia, meanwhile, has itself come under fire from Azerbaijan, which has accused its neighbor and regional nemesis of “cuisine plagiarism.” Baku’s National Security Ministry has even set up a National Cuisine Center to reinforce its claim to the nation’s cuisine and, in particular, to help counter any Armenian efforts to appropriate what it feels are Azerbaijani dishes.

The “Tolma” dish, which consists of meatballs wrapped in grape leaves, seems to be a particular bone of contention between the two countries, especially since Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev publicly announced last year that it was an Azeri national dish.

This provoked a furious response in Armenia and various initiatives have been launched to help save the country’s national dishes from “occupants.” This even includes holding an annual Tolma Festival to reinforce the idea that it is a typically Armenian food.

Whatever the upshot of these culinary claims and counterclaims, it sadly doesn’t seem like these regional rivals will be sitting down to break bread with each other anytime soon.

This post appears courtesy of Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty.

via Knives Out: Turkey’s and Armenia’s War Over Food – Coilin O’Connor – The Atlantic.

January 21, 2013
Burgeoning art scene in Istanbul despite little state funding

Tahira Yaqoob

“For me,” wrote Orhan Pamuk of his beloved Istanbul, “it has always been a city of ruins and of end-of-empire melancholy.”

But huzun, the Arabic-derived Turkish word used by the Nobel-prizewinning novelist to describe that sense of spiritual loss and longing, could be the key to the city’s rebirth.

Istanbul’s contemporary art scene is enjoying a moment, thanks to a rash of art fairs, dozens of exhibition spaces funded by the corporate sector and private investors and newfound recognition for Turkish artists overseas.

Yet while its reputation is being built on the fresh perspectives of its artists, poised at the crossroads of East and West, it is Istanbul’s legacy as the stronghold of one of the world’s greatest historical superpowers which is set to buoy the art market.

Since the Ottoman Empire first tumbled into ruin in the 19th century, and with it crumbled its stature as an international seat of art and culture, Turkish artists have looked to the West with students dispatched to Europe to learn their trade.

via Burgeoning art scene in Istanbul despite little state funding – The National.

more:

January 21, 2013
Istanbul’s Top Five Beaneries

January 18, 2013, by Istanbul Eats

Until we visited some of Istanbul’s shrines to the baked bean, we generally regarded the dish as something eaten out of a can beside railroad tracks. But Turkey takes this humble food, known as kuru fasulye, seriously; that means chefs in tall toques carefully ladling out golden beans in a rich red gravy onto monogrammed flatware, served by waiters wearing bowties and vests. Even in the least formal of Istanbul’s beaneries, the guy manning the pot has the air of a high priest who knows that his incantations alone conjure something unusually delicious out of a simple dry white legume. This is no hobo fare.

There are two general schools of bean cooking in Turkey: Black Sea and Anatolian. Beans Black Sea-style sit in a red gravy so thick with butter and laden with chunks of meat that we eat it with a fork and a hearty piece of bread. Anatolian beans, often known as Erzincan beans, are soupier and cooked in a tomato-based sauce without butter and meat. Either way, you can’t go wrong.

The following are our top five bean joints in town:

#1, Hanımeli
The far-flung district of Gaziosmanpaşa might sound like a long distance to travel for a plate of beans, but we’d already tried all of the big-name beans in this city. Selma Usta, who stakes her claim as the only female kuru fasulye master in Istanbul, had no poufy hat and starched white jacket, nor – the pride of most bean masters – a giant copper pot. But don’t be fooled by the looks of this humble little beanery in a drab suburb. It has a fanatical following.

And the beans were all that. Selma Usta prepares the plump and pale Erzincan variety in tiny batches with materials she sources personally from the city of Tokat, in the heart of Anatolia. She claimed to be holding some secrets, and we believe her. But for us, the defining feature of the dish was the butter, which was like nothing we’d encountered in Turkey. Selma’s farm-fresh Tokat butter gave the dish a strong flavor and filled the dining room with its intoxicating musk. This superior ingredient, like a rocket booster, shot the dish beyond the realm of worldly beans to where it now floats – in our minds at least – in bean heaven.

Address: 1028. Sokak 4, Gaziosmanpaşa (near the Taşköprü stop on the T4 metro line)
Telephone: +90 212 477 1706

Web:

Hours: 8am-8pm; closed Sunday

#2, Fasuli Lokantası
The beans at Fasuli Lokantası glow unbelievably orange, as if the chef slipped a little something radioactive in the pot. Whatever the recipe, these beans are among the best we’ve had in Istanbul. Stiffened by a whole lot of butter, the gravy and beans achieve almost the same creamy consistency. The cool, crisp raw onions and pickled hot peppers are a welcome balance to the richness of the dish, although their aroma stays with you long after your meal. Host to a loyal lunch crowd, this white-tablecloth establishment also serves up other Black Sea specialties, including muhlama (a sort of Turkish fondue), stuffed chard leaves and corn bread. The location, across the street from Tophane’s nargile cafés and near the Karaköy waterfront, is an added bonus.

Address: Kılıç Ali Paşa Caddesi 6, Tophane
Telephone: +90 212 243 6580

Web: http://www.fasuli.com.tr/

Hours: 11am-11pm

#3, Hüsrev
A severe man in a monogrammed blazer stands at the door to Hüsrev, greeting important patrons who walk in and check their coats without pausing from their telephone conversations. Eavesdrop and you’ll probably overhear major business deals being closed. It’s easy to get so caught up in the charged atmosphere that you forget that everyone has ordered nothing more than a bowl of beans accompanied by a salty yogurt drink. But that’s what’s so pleasurable about Hüsrev, which calls itself the “world’s bean gentleman.” From Hong Kong to Houston, a high-powered business lunch is propelled by a big steak and stiff drinks, but here, deals are sealed over beans.

The blond and creamy beans, bathed in a rich, red gravy, are certainly worthy of their dedicated following. We got the feeling that every variable in the recipe is tightly controlled by a board of ustas in white coats. With such resources, how could these not be the best beans in Turkey? Indeed, though we could not identify a single flaw, we were a little disappointed to find them only delicious. We were hoping for magic beans that would transform us into rich and successful people like everyone else at Hüsrev. But even though they were the most expensive beans we’d ever eaten, we weren’t that much poorer leaving the place.

Address: Dedeman İş Merkezi, Yıldız Posta Caddesi 48/1, Esentepe (located next to Dedeman Hotel in Gayrettepe)
Telephone: +90 212 347 4210

Web: http://www.husrev.com.tr

Hours: 11am-9:30pm

#4, Çömlek
You can’t miss the huge, red clay cauldron sitting behind the counter at Çömlek. The fellow with the big ladle says it’s the pot that makes these beans better than the rest. Cooking vessel aside, a serving of these beans also has the highest meat count of any we’ve tasted in Istanbul. Whereas most beans might have a shred or at best a few nuggets of tender roasted beef in there for flavor, Çömlek’s are crowned with a generous helping of meat. In such a rich dish the meat satisfyingly offsets the cloying beans, leaving the meek still able to walk away and the strong-willed able to order up another half portion. The restaurant, located on the wooded slopes above Üsküdar on the Asian side, is a bit out of the way. But for us, these are beans at their best and worth the trip.

Address: Turistik Çamlıca Caddesi 50, Çamlıca
Telephone: +90 216 316 2953

Web:

Hours: 11am-11pm

#5, Erzincanlı Ali Baba
According to historians, Tiryaki Sokak (“Addicts’ Alley”) got its name from the opium served up in its coffeehouses during Ottoman times. Though that substance has long been banned, since 1924 Ali Baba has been ladling out something equally addictive from a great copper pot: Erzincan-style baked beans. Ingredients such as onion, tomato and chili pepper are more recognizable in the soupy base, as the bean is bigger than its Black Sea counterpart. Though we remain junkies of the Black Sea variety, the Erzincan preparation is a nice change of pace and there’s no better place to try a bowl than sitting on Ali Baba’s squat stools in the shadow of the minarets of the sublime Süleymaniye Mosque.

Address: Prof. Sıddık Sami Onar Cad. 11, Süleymaniye/Fatih
Telephone: +90 212 513 6219

Web: http://www.kurufasulyeci.com/

Hours: 11am-9pm

(top photo by Yigal Schleifer; bottom three photos by Ansel Mullins)

January 20, 2013
World’s Top 10 Cities For Street Food – Istanbul

The capital of Turkey is paradise for those who love budget travel and a glitzy culture. It’s also a haven for foodies with street food ruling the roost. Here’s a list of the top street food you must try in the vivid souqs and markets of Istanbul –

Midye Dolma is mussels filled with rice, pine nuts, raisins and spices. This is had with a dash of lemon and olive oil

Borek pies baked with a filling of local cheeses, spinach, or meat are the breakfast favorites as the locals head out to work

Yaprak Sarma is a dish of vine leaves stiffed with rice, and herbs. It is cooked in olive oil and served with a yogurt sauce

Doner Durum, a toasted dürüm is served with kaşar cheese and döner meat. Döner is typically lamb, chicken, or beef grilled on a vertical skewer.

Dilli Kaşarlı is sliced smoked tongue with kaşar.

Lahmacun is a flatbread served with minced vegetables and minced meat

A medley of pickled cabbage, pepper, cucumber, and other vegetables served in a spicy juice is sold from street carts across the city.

Sucuk Ekmek is ground beef and spices served in bread as a sandwich

Chicken and chickpeas Pilav (steamed rice)is served hot from carts at night

The luscious food culture of Tukey, Istanbul in particular, is the crown of this tourist paradise.

via World’s Top 10 Cities For Street Food – Istanbul « Maps of World.

January 20, 2013
Resurrecting the Ottoman Glory of Istanbul?

Resurrecting the Ottoman Glory of Istanbul?

All current historical renovation-restoration efforts account to the reinvention of a neo-Ottoman eclectic style,” said Edhem Eldem, history professor at Boğaziçi University.

Nilay VARDAR

nilay@bianet.org

İstanbul – BIA News Desk

16 January 2013, Wednesday

“A new gigantic Sinanesque mosque, the restoration of an Orientalist style barracks building, popularization of “1453 conquest” mentality for Istanbul and of course the insertion of “Golden Horn” metaphor in the shape of a bridge…To make a long story short, all these account to the reinvention of a neo-Ottoman eclectic style,” said Edhem Eldem, history professor at Boğaziçi University.

20 history professors from Boğaziçi University launched a petition against the environmental damage of Istanbul’s new gigantic construction projects, a campaign that has promptly been signed by at least 224 professors from other universities.

The petition statement warns that Istanbul’s new construction efforts -including third bosporus bridge, golden horn bridge, intercontinental tube highway, Çamlıca Mosque and urbanization efforts in historical districts – might cause irretrievable damages on the city’s silhouette and integrity.

Edhem Eldem, one of the petition initiators, told bianet about the relation between history and city in the context of urban transformation projects in Istanbul.

“Academics’ opinions usually get ignored by municipalities”

What brought 20 historians together to write a petition on Istanbul’s urbanization projects?

We wanted to underline that Istanbul’s urbanization projects is heading towards a very dangerous direction. While urbanization projects relentlessly intervene Istanbul’s silhouette and integrity, officials always take the most crucial decisions without consulting non-governmental experts.

They also ignore our ongoing criticism on these projects. Government officials, especially municipalities, consider academics’ opinions as legitimate only in the borders of academia. When we express our concerns over a project, we are usually ignored.

In one of your articles, you wrote that the Turkish state’s desire to revive a sense of Ottomanism is fundamentally a dangerous phenomenon. Can you explain this in detail? How did the relation between city and history unfold Turkey?

Following the military coup of 1980, a wave of conservatism invaded Turkey. First, it revealed itself as a counter-leftist argument. Then, it evolved into a Turkish-Islamic synthesis during PM Turgut Özal era. And now, we observe a Turkish nationalism in the challenge to revive a new sense of neo-Ottomanism by bringing together Ottoman and Republic era cultures.

The biggest issue with this mentality is that it is highly nationalistic and tends to squeeze the plurality of an empire to the singularity of a nation-state. As a result, it doesn’t aim to praise the Ottoman Empire, but it simply praises the Turkish history from a nationalist perspective under the disguise of Ottomanism.

The situation gets worse when we add the kitsch and nostalgic Ottominism that has emerged since 1990s. In a way, Panorama 1453 Museum and Hotel Les Ottomans represent two different aspects of the same idea.

What about previous governments? Didn’t they affect Istanbul’s history?

One way or another, all governments that Istanbul has seen – including Ottoman governments – have affected the historical texture of the city. In the early days of Turkish Republic, when the capital moved from Istanbul to Ankara, it also brought a sense of ignorance towards Istanbul. We also observe several interventions to the city from republican bureaucrats to establish the Kemalist icons by replacing Ottoman ones.

“Praising the Turkish history under the disguise of Ottomanism”

What was the purpose?

This is not to say that every intervention on the city’s silhouette harbored a secret political agenda. We also observe a lot of changes due to economic motives or a desire to look more modern. Some changes in Istanbul’s landscape was pretty mild, while others had several negative consequences.

The impact of these changes fundamentally depends on the economic resources and political authorities. For example, we can say that former PM Adnan Menderes and former Istanbul major Bedrettin Dalan initiated changes in the city with serious negative consequences.

Do you believe the current government has a political agenda behind the construction projects?

We are worried that the current construction projects have a political agenda and cause irretrievable damages to the city. It would be wrong to say that the government has a political agenda vis-à-vis Istanbul, but it is also true that the government aims to convey a political message through these projects.

The very idea that every government desires to leave a mark during its ruling era is a very political idea. We don’t only trace these political marks through infrastructure repairs and various services, but also with buildings and artifacts “that speak for themselves”: A new gigantic Sinanesque mosque, the restoration of an Orientalist style barracks building, popularization of conquest mentality for Istanbul and of course the insertion of “Golden Horn” metaphor in the shape of a bridge…To make a long story short, all these account to the reinvention of a neo-Ottoman eclectic style.

“New projects might leave a black stain on the city’s silhouette”

So, do the efforts to reconstruct the history in Istanbul indeed cause the destruction of another “history” in the city?

Istanbul has many historical, cultural and archeological layers and it is so hard to protect them at the same time. Sometimes for the preservation of one layer, you need to let go of another. In this sense, it is highly understandable that the Byzantine layer is facing the biggest danger now, but the negative impacts can be reduced to minimal through balanced preservation policies.

For example, the municipality showed a remarkable patience on the subway construction in Yenikapi district where several ancient ruins were discovered. But at the same time, the municipality insists on the golden horn bridge project, which is not other than black stain on the city’s silhouette.

The sad part is that these projects are inspired from Ottoman era marvels. In addition to that, we find it hard to understand why only Orientalist barracks and non-remarkable mosques benefit from renovation efforts. We know that a perfect planning doesn’t exist and you can’t preserve all the history of a vibrant city, but it is still possible to choose the best alternatives with a little but more caution and open discussion.

“This nostalgia is more about a commodification of the city”

As a historian, which historical building in Istanbul needs the most urgent attention?

It is so hard to pick one! But I can give a few examples: Valide Mosque in Aksaray district with its ugly and inadequate renovation, or Mecidiye Kasri with a rococo style renovation that doesn’t fit to the rest of Topkapi Palace. These are previous mistakes, but I am aiming to underscore that these mistakes were made in the course of history.

Nowadays, though, we have the Suzer Plaza which many people call “skycage” and “Holden Horn” Bridge. We can also count the classical style mosque made out of ytong material. Let’s not forget the kitsch Demiroren Mall in the heart of Istiklal Avenue. And lastly, the terrible restoration of ancient city walls in Ayvansaray district maybe.

One of your articles trace the influence of nostalgia in the current construction efforts? Do you think they are re-honoring the history? But then, why are there so many deconstructions in districts like Tarlabaşı, Fener and Balat?

This nostalgia was never innocent since it began in 1990s. It usually brings forth new speculations, profits and exchanges of property. Therefore, I would rather say that this nostalgia is more about a commodification.

But let’s be realist, you can’t completely avoid these dynamics. I think it would be more constructive to look for ways to control these mechanisms before they invade the entire city. We, as Istanbuiots, need to find a way to preserve the history of our city without submitting to the economic pursuit of the few.

Who are decisions makers in Istanbul? How do you rate Turkey in terms of transparency?

Isn’t that so obvious with Turkey? We still don’t have a culture of transparency and participation. Therefore, it is hard to say that our urbanization movement could be transparent and participatory either. But at the same time, all this work can’t be done as if it was a referendum. It risks nothing getting done at the end of the day.

The real issue is about creating a negotiation mechanism where non-government stakeholders and city resident would not feel excluded and uninformed. Ironic it seems, we are raising this criticism over AKP government because they made us feel more heard and participated in the construction efforts compared to previous administrations. But I should warn that they also started to resemble their predecessors by the time they stay in power. (NV)

January 19, 2013