Friday 8 July 2026
Landschlacht, Canton Thurgau, Switzerland
Day Three of my exile from Georgia and I am still finding topics for the blog about the journey to Georgia…
Above: Landschlacht, Canton Thurgau, Switzerland
Sunday 10 May 2026
Rize, Rize Province, Türkiye
Mountain Shores, Part Three
I wandered down towards the beach.
Beach?
Sorry, no.
Land has been reclaimed all along the shore of Rize.
To build the main highway, the sea comes up to the concrete foundations, but undaunted by Wikivoyage‘s grim assessment, I sought to see the sea.
A sailor went to sea, sea, sea
To see what he could see, see, see.
But all that he could see, see, see
Was the bottom of the deep blue sea, sea, sea.
“A Sailor Went to Sea” is a traditional children’s clapping game and skipping rhyme.
I passed yet another monument to Mustafa Kemal Atatürk.
Above: Atatürk Monument, Rize
Here in Rize, there is also the Atatürk House where the great man stayed on a visit in 1924.
Above: Atatürk House, Rize
Less than a year after the proclamation of the Republic on 29 October 1923, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk undertook an extensive journey through northern and eastern Anatolia.
Beginning in late August 1924 and lasting for several weeks, it has come to be known simply as the “Autumn Tour” (Sonbahar Gezisi).
This was far more than a ceremonial trip.
The new Republic was still in its infancy.
Atatürk wanted to see conditions outside Ankara firsthand, strengthen the connection between the new government and provincial communities, inspect public institutions, and explain the reforms that were beginning to reshape Turkish society.
Rather than governing solely from the capital, he believed the President should travel and listen.
Travel and listen.
Atatürk was hardly unique in this regard.
Above: Steps leading to Atatürk House, Rize
Some notable examples include:
Abraham Lincoln (1809 – 1865) spent much of his legal career “riding the circuit,” travelling from town to town, hearing ordinary disputes and speaking with farmers, merchants and judges.
That experience shaped his understanding of America before he became President.
Above: US President Abraham Lincoln
Franklin D. Roosevelt (1882 – 1945) travelled extensively during the Great Depression, inspecting Civilian Conservation Corps camps, dams and public works projects rather than relying only on reports from Washington.
Above: US President Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Charles de Gaulle (1890 – 1970) made frequent provincial tours after 1958, believing that France could not be governed solely from Paris.
Above: French President Charles de Gaulle
Queen Elizabeth II (1926 – 2022) spent much of her reign undertaking “walkabouts“— meeting ordinary citizens in towns and villages across Britain and the Commonwealth.
Above: British Queen Elizabeth II
Going much further back:
Peter the Great (1672 – 1725) travelled throughout Europe during the “Grand Embassy” to learn shipbuilding and administration firsthand.
Above: Russian Czar Peter the Great
Emperor Meiji (1852 – 1912) toured Japan repeatedly after the Meiji Restoration, encouraging modernization while allowing people to see their emperor in person.
Above: Japanese Emperor Meiji
King Charles III inherited a tradition of visiting towns, charities, farms, hospitals and businesses.
Although his role is constitutional rather than executive, much of his public work consists of listening rather than announcing policy.
Above: British King Charles III
Narendra Modi travels extensively throughout India, opening projects and meeting local communities.
Critics argue many visits are highly choreographed.
Supporters say they keep him in touch with the country beyond New Delhi.
Above: Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi
Emmanuel Macron regularly tours French regions and often holds lengthy public discussions with citizens.
During the Yellow Vest protests he spent many hours answering unscripted questions in what became known as the “Great National Debate“.
Above: French President Emmanuel Macron
Volodymyr Zelenskyy has repeatedly travelled to frontline cities during Russia’s invasion, meeting soldiers, local officials and civilians.
Those visits are as much symbolic as administrative.
Above: Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy
Even in democracies, there is a practical reason for such journeys.
Reports written in offices tell one story.
Standing in a village, factory or school often tells another.
Above: Atatürk, Rize, 17 September 1924
Atatürk belongs comfortably within this tradition.
He was not merely inspecting.
He was building legitimacy for a brand-new republic.
Above: Flag of Türkiye
The journey took him through many Black Sea towns, where enthusiastic crowds gathered to welcome him.
For many people, it was their first opportunity to see the founder of the Republic in person.
Above: Eagerness to meet Atatürk
On 17 September 1924, Atatürk arrived in Rize aboard the steamer Hamidiye, accompanied by his wife, Latife Uşaklıgil, together with several members of the Grand National Assembly.
Above: The Hamidiye
Above: Latife Usakligil (1898 – 1975)
The reception was reportedly enthusiastic.
After greeting the townspeople, he spent the night as the guest of Mehmet Mataracı Efendi, a respected local citizen who had supported the National Struggle during the War of Independence.
The following day Atatürk visited various parts of the city before continuing his Black Sea tour by ship.
Above: Atatürk visits Rize
The House itself is an attractive example of early 20th century civilian architecture.
It is a three-storey mansion with:
- a stone basement originally used for storage
- two principal residential floors
- traditional interior hall (sofa) plan
- timber construction typical of prosperous Black Sea homes
- a garden to the north
Above: Bedroom, Atatürk House, Rize
Although Atatürk stayed there for only one night, the visit became an important part of the city’s historical memory.
Years later, ownership passed to Osman Mataracı, the nephew of Mehmet Mataracı.
To commemorate the centenary of Atatürk’s birth, the family donated the mansion to the provincial authorities on the condition that it become a museum dedicated to his visit.
After restoration by the Ministry of Culture, it officially opened as the Rize Atatürk House Museum on 27 December 1985.
Today visitors can see:
- photographs of Atatürk’s visit to Rize
- rooms furnished in period style
- several personal items associated with him
- ethnographic objects from the Rize region
- traditional weaving equipment
- documents relating to the War of Independence
- and exhibits illustrating local Black Sea culture
Above: Atatürk and Rize in all their aspects
This museum does not commemorate Atatürk because he ordered it built or because it bore his name during his lifetime.
Instead, it preserves an ordinary family home because, for one September night in 1924, it became part of the story of the Republic.
There is something appealingly modest about that.
It is not a palace or a monumental government building.
It is simply a house where a traveller slept before continuing his journey along the Black Sea coast.
Above: Rize Atatürk House Museum
Why the 1924 tour mattered
The Republic was not yet one year old.
Many of the reforms that would define modern Turkey had either only just begun or had not yet been introduced.
The purpose of the journey was to:
- inspect provincial administration
- observe schools and hospitals
- encourage economic development
- strengthen ties between Ankara and distant provinces
- explain the ideals of the Republic
- gauge public opinion
- identify local problems firsthand rather than through bureaucratic reports
Unlike an election campaign, Atatürk was not seeking votes.
He was trying to persuade people that Ankara was now their government.
Above: Atatürk, 1932
The itinerary
The tour actually began after the anniversary celebrations of the Battle of Dumlupınar (26 – 30 August 1922).
Above: Atatürk, Kocatepe, Afyonkarahisar (Battle of Dumlupınar)
The Battle of Dumlupınar, also known as Field Battle of the Commander-in-Chief in Turkey, was one of the important battles in the Greco-Turkish War (1919–1922) (part of the Turkish War of Independence).
The battle was fought from 26 to 30 August 1922 near Dumlupınar, Kütahya in Turkey.
The end of the battle of Dumlupınar spelt the beginning of the end for the Greek presence in Anatolia.
Trikoupis Group, with some 34 infantry battalions and 130 artillery pieces was destroyed as an effective fighting force.
The remaining Frangou Group was too weak to hold against the Turkish onslaught.
Greek losses were heavy.
By 7 September, the Greek Army had suffered 50,000 casualties (35,000 killed and wounded and 15,000 captured).
Greek material losses were also heavy.
Turkish losses were lower.
Between 26 August and 9 September, the Turkish army sustained 13,476 casualties (2,318 killed, 9,360 wounded, 1,697 missing and 101 captured).
In two weeks (26 August 1922 – 9 September 1922) the Turkish army re-captured all the territories which the Greek army had invaded since May 1919.
The Turks chased the fleeing Greeks 250 miles (400 km) to Smyrna (İzmir), which was later abandoned by the Greek soldiers.
During this period the Greek Army numbered 300,000 men with an additional 100,000 in reserve.
According to the Greek Directorate of Army History, during the Greco-Turkish War, the Greek army suffered ~101,000 casualties (24,240 killed 48,880 wounded, 18,095 missing and 10,000 captured) out of a 200,000 – 250,000-men-strong army stationed in Anatolia.
Other sources put the total number of casualties even higher at 120,000 – 130,000. By 1921 the war in Anatolia had cost Greece a sum equivalent to $100,000,000 at the rate of exchange in 1921.
Turkish casualties numbered 13,000 killed (additionally about 24,000 died of disease during and after the war) and 35,000 wounded for the whole Turkish War of Independence.
The last Greek troops left Anatolia on 18 September.
The Armistice of Mudanya was signed by Turkey, Italy, France and Great Britain on 11 October 1922.
Greece was forced to accede to it on 14 October.
To commemorate this victory, 30 August (also liberation day of Kütahya) is celebrated as Victory Day (Zafer Bayramı), a national holiday in Turkey.
Above: Turkish soldiers in a trench waiting for the order to attack with fixed bayonets on their rifles while the artillery lays down preparatory fire.
Atatürk’s simplified itinerary looks like this:
- 29 – 30 August 1924 — Dumlupınar commemorations
- 31 August — Bursa
- 12 September — depart Mudanya aboard the cruiser Hamidiye through the Bosporus into the Black Sea
- 15 – 16 September — Trabzon
- 17 – 18 September — Rize
- 18 September — depart aboard Hamidiye
- 19 September — Giresun
- 19 September — Ordu
Atatürk afterwards continued westward to Samsun, Amasya, Tokat and other Anatolian centres before returning to Ankara in October.
Above: Turkish President Mustafa Kemal Atatürk
What happened in Rize?
The arrival itself became memorable.
The sea was rough.
Local boats struggled to reach the cruiser.
A famous local story tells how a young man offered to carry Atatürk ashore on his back.
According to tradition, Atatürk declined, saying:
“Let my feet be wetted by the waters of my homeland.”
Whether every word is verbatim or polished by later retelling, it has become part of Rize’s local historical memory.
Above: Atatürk in Rize
Did Atatürk give a speech?
Yes — but not a lengthy public oration of the sort he delivered elsewhere.
The most significant episode in Rize concerned education, specifically the future of the old religious schools (medreses).
A delegation of local religious figures reportedly requested that the government reopen or expand traditional medrese education.
Atatürk politely but firmly rejected the proposal.
His reasoning reflected one of his central beliefs:
Turkey’s future depended upon a unified, modern, secular system of education rather than separate religious schools.
Above: Atatürk showing the new Turkish alphabet, Kayseri, Kayseri Province, 20 September 1928
After leaving Rize he sent a cipher telegram to Prime Minister İsmet İnönü describing the encounter.
Above: Turkish Prime Minister / President İsmet İnönü (1884 – 1973)
One sentence is especially revealing:
“In this region it is absolutely necessary that our educational and cultural institutions begin their activities quickly.“
That single remark captures much of what the Autumn Tour was about.
Atatürk was not merely visiting towns.
He was looking for places where the Republic needed to invest in schools, teachers and civic institutions.
Above: Atatürk visits a mathematics class of Izmir High School for Boys on 1 February 1931
A revealing anecdote
Another incident from Rize impressed me.
Atatürk admired the condition of the local roads and asked the governor how they had been improved.
The governor proudly explained that villagers had been rounded up by the gendarmerie and compelled to work on them.
Instead of congratulating him, Atatürk reportedly frowned.
He disliked the use of forced labour for public works and was displeased that the governor regarded it as an achievement.
That small exchange tells us something about his administrative style.
He was not touring merely to receive applause.
He asked questions — and sometimes he did not like the answers.
Above: Atatürk touring Rize
I find that perhaps the most interesting aspect of the Autumn Tour.
It was less a triumphal procession than a travelling inspection.
Atatürk looked, listened, questioned, praised when warranted, criticized when necessary, and then carried those observations back to Ankara.
Above: Atatürk House, Rize
Governments issue reports.
Travellers keep notebooks.
In the autumn of 1924, Atatürk did a little of both.
Above: Atatürk, Bursa, 31 August 1924
Atatürk’s tours were different
The Republic of Türkiye was not simply changing governments.
It was creating an entirely new political order.
In September 1924:
- the Republic was less than a year old
- many citizens had never seen its founder
- railways and telephones reached only parts of the country
- newspapers travelled slowly
- much of Anatolia still thought locally rather than nationally
When Atatürk arrived in Rize, he wasn’t merely the President making a provincial visit.
He was, quite literally, introducing the Republic to one of its own provinces.
That gives the journey a significance difficult to appreciate today.
Above: Atatürk during the Republic Day celebrations on the 2nd anniversary of the Turkish Republic, 29 October 1925
Why preserve a house for one night?
Objectively speaking, nothing extraordinary happened in that house.
He ate.
He slept.
He left.
Yet the house became a museum.
Why?
Because people rarely preserve buildings for what happened inside them.
They preserve them for who passed through them.
Above: Atatürk’s bedroom, Rize Museum
Consider these examples:
- Shakespeare’s Birthplace is preserved because Shakespeare was born there — not because the building itself changed history.
Above: English writer William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Shakespeare’s Birthplace is a preserved 16th-century timber-framed house in Stratford-upon-Avon traditionally recognized as the birthplace and childhood home of William Shakespeare.
Managed as a museum, it is one of England’s most visited literary landmarks, offering insight into Shakespeare’s early life and the world that shaped his writing.
The house combines historic rooms, museum galleries and restored gardens to recreate domestic life in Tudor England.
Visitors can explore period-furnished interiors, view exhibitions about Shakespeare’s family and legacy, and often encounter live performances or talks inspired by his works.
The property dates to the 16th century and belonged to Shakespeare’s father, John Shakespeare, a successful glover and civic official.
Although parts of the building have been restored over the centuries, it remains one of the most important surviving places directly associated with Shakespeare’s life and has played a central role in preserving his legacy for generations.
A visit typically includes access to interpretive displays, knowledgeable guides, and landscaped gardens that feature plants connected with Shakespeare’s plays and poems.
The attraction is located in the heart of Stratford-upon-Avon, making it easy to combine with other nearby Shakespeare-related sites.
Above: Shakespeare’s Birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire, England
- Anne Frank House is important because of the story attached to it.
Above: The last known photograph of Anne Frank taken in May 1942, taken at a passport photo shoot, two months before she and her family went into hiding
The Anne Frank House is a museum and historic canal house in Amsterdam that preserves the hiding place where Anne Frank, her family, and others lived in secret during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands in World War II.
It is one of the Netherlands’ most visited historical sites and serves as both a memorial to Anne Frank’s life and a center for education about the Holocaust, discrimination, and human rights.
Located on the Prinsengracht Canal, the building contains the Secret Annex hidden behind a movable bookcase, where Anne Frank spent more than two years in hiding before the occupants were discovered in 1944.
Above: The Secret Annex
Anne’s diary, written during this period, became one of the world’s most widely read accounts of life under Nazi persecution.
The museum preserves the hiding place while presenting Anne Frank’s story through photographs, quotations, videos, historical documents, and original artifacts.
The atmosphere is intentionally subdued, allowing visitors to reflect on the realities of wartime persecution and the personal experiences recorded in Anne’s diary.
After the war, efforts led by Anne’s father, Otto Frank, helped save the property from demolition.
Above: Anne Frank Museum
The Museum opened in 1960 and has since expanded into neighboring buildings while maintaining the original annex.
Beyond operating the Museum, the institution conducts research and educational programs focused on antisemitism, racism, historical memory, and democratic values.
Above: Anne Frank Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands
- Mount Vernon matters because it was the home of George Washington.
Above: US President George Washington (1732 – 1799)
Mount Vernon is the historic plantation estate that served as the home of George Washington for more than four decades.
Located along the Potomac River, it is one of the most visited historic homes in the United States and preserves Washington’s residence, working farm, gardens, museum and final resting place.
Visitors can explore the restored mansion, the outbuildings, the gardens and the riverside grounds while learning how the estate functioned in the 18th century.
The property also includes a museum, an education center, a working farm that demonstrates period agricultural practices, and Washington’s tomb, offering a broad view of both his public career and private life.
Mount Vernon provides insight into the life of George Washington beyond his military and presidential roles.
The estate also presents the history of the hundreds of enslaved people who lived and worked there, reflecting ongoing efforts to interpret the full history of the plantation through research, archaeology, and exhibits.
Above: Mount Vernon, Virginia
The physical structure becomes a vessel for memory.
The Rize house functions similarly.
Above: Rize Atatürk House Museum
Many nations honour their founders.
Turkey venerates Atatürk to an unusual degree because he is associated simultaneously with several transformations:
- military victory
Mustafa Kemal with Ottoman military officers during the Battle of Gallipoli, Çanakkale, 1915
- national independence
- abolition of the Sultanate
Above: Abolition of the Caliphate, The Last Caliph, Le Petit Journal illustré, 16 March 1924
- proclamation of the Republic
- legal reform
Above: Palace of Justice, Istanbul, Türkiye
- educational reform
- alphabet reform
Above: Atatürk in geography class in a school in Samsun
- women’s political rights
Above: Canadian political cartoon of a woman in Québec reading a sign that reads:
“News bulletin:
For the first time in Turkish history women will vote and be eligible to the public office in the general election which takes place this week.”
Women were granted the right to vote in Turkey in 1930, but the right to vote was not extended to women in provincial elections in Québec until 1940.
- secular government
- modernization
Above: Atatürk at the opening of the Türkkuşu flight school in Etimesgut on 3 May 1935
Whether one agrees with every reform is beside the point.
Few 20th century leaders reshaped so many aspects of national life within 15 years.
For many Turks, Atatürk is not simply remembered as a president.
He is remembered as the founder of the state in which they live.
That explains why:
- schools bear his name
- airports bear his name
- universities bear his name
- stadiums bear his name
- museums commemorate even brief visits
Above: Anıtkabir, the mausoleum of Atatürk in Ankara, is visited by large crowds every year during national holidays such as Republic Day on 29 October
Many institutions named after contemporary politicians feel political because history has not yet rendered its verdict.
The Rize house is different.
It wasn’t renamed while Atatürk was alive.
It became a museum decades after his death because later generations concluded:
“This visit mattered to us.”
That changes its character.
It is less an act of political promotion than one of historical remembrance.
Above: Rize Atatürk House Museum
At first I wondered why a museum should commemorate a man who spent only one night in Rize, why anyone would preserve a house because a President had spent a night there.
Then it occurred to me that the house was never really about the night, that the Museum and the people of Rize were not commemorating the sleep.
They are commemorating the dream, commemorating the journey.
It was about the traveller, the founder of the Republic who came ashore, spent one night in an ordinary merchant’s home, listened to the people and sailed away the next morning on his journey along the Black Sea.
In September 1924, the Republic itself was travelling.
The House survives, because for one evening, it became the Republic’s address.
Sometimes history lingers longer than its guests.
What makes the House significant is that it is not a shrine to a night’s lodging.
It is a reminder that nation building can happen in conversations over a meal, questions asked in a provincial town and the willingness of a leader to leave the capital and see his country with his own eyes.
I think that is a lesson with enduring value, regardless of the country.
Above: Mustafa Kemal (Atatürk), 1918
The House, my writing, seeks neither to praise nor criticize Atatürk.
I seek to simply explain why an otherwise ordinary house became extraordinary.
I know that my stay in Room 404 at the Grand 464 Hotel will be forgotten, but, Heaven willing, the stories I carried away from Rize are what endure.
What I react to is not simply admiration for Atatürk.
It is the pervasiveness and institutionalization of that admiration.
These are two very different things.
A society can deeply respect a founder without making him nearly impossible to escape from in daily life.
Above: Abilene Daily Reporter, 13 October 1922
Atatürk statues have been erected in all Turkish cities by the Turkish government.
Most towns have their own memorial to him.
His face and name are seen and heard everywhere in Türkiye.
His portrait can be seen in public buildings, in schools, on all Turkisk lira banknotes and in the homes of many Turkish families.
At 0905 on every 10 November, at the exact time of Atatürk’s death, most vehicles and people on the country’s streets pause for one minute in remembrance.
Above: Mustafa Kemal (Atatürk) inspects the Turkish troops on 18 June 1922
In 1951, the Turkish Parliament led by Prime Minister Adnan Menderes (1899 – 1961) issued the Law on Crimes Committed Against Atatürk, outlawing insults to his memory and destruction of objects representing him.
The demarcation between a criticism and an insult was defined as a political argument.
The Minister of Justice was assigned to execute the law rather than the public prosecutor.
A government website was created to denounce websites that violate this law.
Above: Turkish Prime Minister Adnan Menderes
In 2010, the French-based NGO Reporters Without Borders objected to the Turkish laws protecting the memory of Atatürk, arguing that they contradict the current European Union standards of freedom of speech in news media.
Above: Logo of Reporters sans frontières (Reporters Without Borders) since 2020
Atatürk’s cult has been compared to the personality cults of the former Soviet Union.
Above: Statue of Stalin in front of the Joseph Stalin Museum in Gori, Georgia
It has been referred to as “the most grotesque state-sponsored cult of personality outside of North Korea“.
Above: Visitors bowing in a show of respect for North Korean leaders Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il on Mansudae (Mansu Hill) in Pyongyang, North Korea
According to political scientist Mark A. Wolfgram:
“One can hardly have an honest conversation about Atatürk’s life in Turkey today nor question the legacy of the Republic that he established.“
Widely considered a political religion “of grotesque proportions“, the cult is noted as being “by far the longest running political personality cult in the modern world“.
Above: Mark A. Wolfgram, University of Ottawa, Canada
“I am a Turk.
I am honest.
I am a hard worker.
My principle is to love the elderly, protect those younger than me and love my country more than myself.
I offer my existence to the Turkish nation as a gift.”
(Turkish Student Oath)
Atatürk’s cult serves a Turkish social engineering project.
It was first put into effect in 1924 with the Unification of Education Law, which served as the primary apparatus for the indoctrination of young children to inculcate future generations and achieve the “ideal citizen” and started dominating the education system in the 1930s.
As such, in Turkish schools, Atatürk became an institutionalized presence.
According to Adem Ince:
“Kemalist indoctrination still makes children believe that Atatürk is a hero, a spiritual guide akin to a prophet and even possessing a godlike character.“
Above: Professor Adem Ince
Critical thinking is also undermined by the ideological characteristic of the curriculum, which is prominent throughout the entirety of the Turkish education system, from primary schools to universities.
In every school, there is a portrait of Atatürk, a Turkish flag, a copy of his Address to Turkish Youth on display and a bust of him in most school courtyards.
In addition, in school primers, love for Atatürk is equated with love for one’s parents.
In primary school books, many illustrations include photographs of Atatürk.
His profile is featured on the cover of the national alphabet textbook adopted by all schools from 1936 onwards.
Meanwhile, Turkish school shows, particularly those staged on national holidays, such as 23 April (National Sovereignty and Children’s Day), become tools for transmitting Kemalist nationalist values to children.
In the shows, children wear T-shirts with Atatürk’s face printed on them, whilst singing military marches and songs
To understand why Atatürk is everywhere, one has to remember the circumstances of 1919 – 1923.
The Ottoman Empire had collapsed.
Above: Coat of arms of the Ottoman Empire (1299 – 1922)
Much of Anatolia had been occupied.
The Treaty of Sèvres (10 August 1920) proposed dividing what remained among Greece, Armenia, France, Britain and Italy.
Above: Partition of the Ottoman Empire according to the Treaty of Sèvres and the Greco-Italian Treaty
The new republic was not simply replacing one government with another — it was attempting to create an entirely new national identity from the ruins of a multiethnic empire.
Atatürk and his supporters believed that this identity had to be consciously built.
So the Republic created what political scientists often call a founding myth.
Almost every modern state has one:
- George Washington in the United States
Above: Washington crossing the Delaware
- Simón Bolívar across much of South America
Above: Colombian President Simón Bolivar (1783 – 1830)
- Giuseppe Garibaldi in Italy
Above: Italian revolutionary Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807 – 1882)
- Mahatma Gandhi in India
Above: Indian nationalist Mahatma Gandhi (1869 – 1948)
- Nelson Mandela in South Africa
Above: South African President Nelson Mandela (1918 – 2013)
Turkey’s difference is one of degree, not existence.
Because the republic was created through revolution rather than gradual evolution, Atatürk became the visible embodiment of that revolution.
Above: Mustafa Kemal at the opening ceremony of the Samsun-Çarşamba railroad (1928)
Several things reinforced this.
First came genuine gratitude.
Many Turks sincerely believed that without him there would simply be no independent Turkish state.
Above: Colorized photograph of Mustafa Kemal with his Panama hat just after the Kastamonu speech, 30 August 1925
Second came education.
The Republic deliberately used schools to create citizens who identified first as Turks rather than by religion, tribe or region.
Above: Atatürk visits İzmir High School for Girls on 1 February 1931
Third came the military.
For much of the 20th century the armed forces saw themselves as guardians of Atatürk’s republic.
Above: Mustafa Kemal is greeted by marines in Büyükada (14 July 1927)
Finally came law.
The 1951 law protecting Atatürk’s memory effectively elevated him beyond ordinary historical criticism.
These reinforced one another until his image became almost inseparable from the state itself.
Mustafa Kemal (Atatürk) in Istanbul University Faculty of Law, 15 December 1930
Is it a personality cult?
Here historians begin to disagree.
Some scholars argue that it clearly is.
Others argue that it is something more complicated.
Above: Atatürk Mask, a large sculpture of Atatürk in İzmir
There are differences between Atatürk’s commemoration and the cults surrounding Stalin, Mao or Kim Il Sung.
Above: Russian dictator Joseph Stalin (1878 – 1953)
Above: Chinese dictator Mao Zedong (1893 – 1976)
Above: North Korean dictator Kim Il-Sung (1912 – 1994)
Those dictators were portrayed as infallible leaders whose wisdom justified continuing personal rule.
Atatürk died in 1938.
His image has since been used less to justify one man’s power than to symbolize the founding principles of the republic.
That doesn’t mean there aren’t cult-like elements.
There plainly are.
The ubiquity of statues, portraits, school rituals, quotations and legal protection creates something that often resembles what scholars call a civil religion — a shared set of symbols, ceremonies and revered figures that bind a nation together.
Political scientist Robert Bellah coined the term to describe aspects of American public life surrounding Washington, Lincoln and the Constitution.
Turkey’s civil religion is simply much more concentrated around one individual.
Above: Statue of Atatürk, Ankara
The criticism
The criticisms are real and deserve consideration.
Among them:
- restrictions on free discussion created by Law 5816
- the tendency to portray Atatürk as beyond criticism
- an educational system that sometimes emphasizes reverence over historical inquiry
- the danger that complex historical questions become politically taboo
Many Turkish historians themselves acknowledge these concerns.
There is an ongoing debate within Turkey about how to honour Atatürk while allowing mature historical discussion.
Above: Atatürk statue, Samsun
The defence
Those who defend the current level of commemoration usually make several arguments.
They point out that Atatürk:
- prevented the partition of Anatolia
- abolished the sultanate
- created a republic
- expanded women’s legal rights decades before many European countries
- introduced secular civil law
- modernized education
- adopted the Latin alphabet
- pursued neutrality and avoided major foreign wars after independence
From that perspective, constant remembrance is not hero worship but gratitude toward the founder of the modern state.
Many Turks also see attacks on Atatürk not merely as criticism of one historical figure but as attacks on the legitimacy of the Republic itself.
That helps explain the emotional intensity surrounding him.
Above: Atatürk observes the Turkish troops during the military exercise on 28 May 1936
But it is this emotional intensity that disturbs me.
Should Atatürk be honoured?
Absolutely.
But there is a compulsion to honour him that speaks less out of gratitude or respect as it does coercion and command.
The idea that one must honour Atatürk.
My difficulty is not with Atatürk himself.
In fact, I have frequently expressed admiration for several aspects of him:
- his habit of travelling throughout the country
- his willingness to listen
- his emphasis on education
- his strategic leadership during the War of Independence
What unsettles me is something different.
As a Canadian, I am accustomed to founders being respected but also debated.
Above: Flag of Canada
I can criticize Sir John A. Macdonald, Pierre Trudeau or even Confederation (the process by which three British North American provinces — the Province of Canada (Ontario and Québec), Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick — were united into one federation, called the Dominion of Canada, on 1 July 1867 itself without legal consequences).
Above: Canadian Prime Minister John A. Macdonald (1815 – 1891)
Above: Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau (1919 – 2000)
Above: The Fathers of Confederation, Québec Conference, 1864
Likewise in Britain, Churchill is celebrated and criticized.
Above: British Prime Minister Winston Churchill (1874 – 1965)
Americans argue endlessly about Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln.
Above: US President Thomas Jefferson (1743 – 1826)
History is treated as an ongoing conversation.
In Turkey, some conversations begin with certain conclusions already fixed.
That feels unfamiliar.
I want to be careful with phrases such as “obsessive” in my blog.
Not because criticism is inappropriate, but because those words can sound dismissive of people whose attachment is often rooted in genuine historical experience.
I spent many months in Turkey.
I met generous colleagues, helpful strangers and wonderful students.
Many of those same people revere Atatürk.
Rather than writing:
“The Turks are obsessive about Atatürk.”
I choose to write:
No visitor to Turkey can fail to notice Atatürk’s extraordinary presence in public life.
His statues, portraits and words accompany the traveller almost everywhere.
For someone from Canada, where national founders occupy a far more modest place in everyday life, the experience feels overwhelming.
Yet behind that omniprescence lies a history of national survival that helps explain why so many Turks continue to honour him with genuine affection.
Above: Kemal Atatürk and his wife Latife Uşakizade during a trip to Bursa in 1924
It is my hope that reading my travel chronicles rarely reduces people or places to caricatures, that they combine observation with curiosity.
I have great respect for the man Atatürk.
Despite his accomplishments, I fear that his legacy, for better and for worse, permeates everything and everyone in the Republic.
The observable facts speak for themselves.
A visitor to Turkey encounters:
- statues in nearly every town
- portraits in schools, government offices and businesses
- quotations carved into mountainsides
- annual national moments of silence
- a legal prohibition on insulting his memory
- compulsory exposure to his speeches during education
- museums, mausoleums and memorial houses
Those are facts.
What they mean is where interpretation begins.
Above: A view from the state funeral of Atatürk, November 1938
One point I think deserves emphasis is that the endurance of Atatürk’s cult cannot simply be attributed to state coercion.
If it were only imposed from above, it would likely have faded after 80 years.
Instead, millions of ordinary Turks voluntarily display his portrait in:
- homes
- cafés
- taxis
- barber shops
- grocery stores
That suggests genuine emotional attachment.
Many Turks sincerely believe:
“Without him there would be no Turkey.”
Whether one agrees with that assessment or not, it helps explain why the reverence survives changes of government.
Above: Atatürk Statue, Mexico City
The paradox
This is the paradox that fascinates me.
Atatürk wanted Turkey to become modern, scientific and rational.
Yet modern societies generally encourage questioning — even of their founders.
Turkey simultaneously teaches critical thinking in science while treating one historical figure as largely beyond criticism.
That tension is real.
Many Turkish intellectuals have written about it.
Above: Numerous Turks attend marches and meetings in memory of Atatürk on 10 November, the day of his death.
A famous quote is written on this billboard:
“My moral heritage is science and reason.”
Despite this seemingly “pro-science” sentiment, Atatürk espoused and promoted several pseudoscientific and pseudohistorical theories, such as the Turkish History Thesis (which posited the belief that the Turks moved from their ancestral homeland in Central Asia and migrated to present-day China, the Indian subcontinent, the Balkans, the Middle East and Northern Africa in several waves, populating the areas which they had moved to and bringing civilization to their native inhabitants.) and the Sun Language Theory (proposed that all human languages are descendants of one proto-Turkic primal language.).
Above: Map of the main subgroups of Turkish dialects across Southeast Europe and the Middle East
I admire Atatürk for:
- his courage
- his military leadership
- his determination
- his educational reforms
- his willingness to travel throughout the country
- his insistence upon national independence
I struggle with:
- legal restrictions on discussing him
- his omnipresence
- the ritualization of remembrance
- the lack of intellectual distance
Those are not contradictory positions.
Above: Time magazine, 21 February 1927
One can admire Washington without wanting his portrait in every classroom.
One can admire Churchill without requiring children to recite his speeches.
One can admire Gandhi without placing his bust in every public building.
Likewise, one can admire Atatürk while questioning whether his commemoration has become so pervasive that it discourages a fuller engagement with history.
During my months in Turkey I rarely passed a school, government office, public square or bank without seeing Atatürk’s face.
His words looked down from classroom walls.
His statues stood in parks.
His portrait hung in cafés, hotels and shops.
On the morning of 10 November the country fell silent.
As a visitor I came to admire the founder of the Republic.
Yet I also found myself wondering where Mustafa Kemal the man ended and Atatürk the symbol began.
I miss Turkey.
I won’t miss seeing Atatürk everywhere.
I’ve just closed my eyes again
Climbed aboard the Dream Weaver train
Driver, take away my worries of today
And leave tomorrow behind
Ooh, Dream Weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh, Dream Weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light
Fly me high through the starry skies
Or maybe to an astral plane
Cross the highways of fantasy
Help me to forget today’s pain
Ooh, Dream Weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh, Dream Weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light
Though the dawn may be coming soon
There still may be some time
Fly me away to the bright side of the moon
And meet me on the other side
Dream Weaver
Dream Weaver
Above: An ornate, contemporary, non-traditional dreamcatcher
