'Write my plight just like this, my friend'

“Think, one of our feet is in the space age,

Even if the other is in raw hide sandals and wool socks” that is what Ahmed Arif said in one of his poems. We cannot know if this contradiction was a destiny destined to rule among people, but what we do know is that this “destiny” has not changed since the years when capitalism became dominant. “destiny.” This was the poet's concern; from the events he witnessed to the social reality he lived in, he always felt this truth and did not stop there; he always expressed it. 

In the later lines of the same poem, there is a cry and perhaps a plea to be understood, “Oh Havar” the poet says it like this: 

“For the love of Muhammad and Jesus

For the love of the bunk you lie on..

Oh, how I have loved you.”

Ahmed Arif does not mention the prophets here just for the sake of it, nor does he invite them into his verses without reason, because the poet has a unique bond with the “sacred,” and that bond emerges once again on a social-realist foundation. So let us ask: If revolution and revolutionaries are another reality of life, are the prophets included in this? Even if we look from another perspective, does the following question not arise: If religion emerges from life, can the prophets not speak to save life?

Ahmed Arif responds to these questions in a way that provides an answer: Jesus has a saying, he says: “Give the best of what you have to your friend.”

I heard this from my father before I ever read it. My father used to say:

"My child, if you have a slice of bread, give the better-cooked side, the one that isn't burnt, to your friend, to those in need. That is nobility."

The perspective of Jesus on life and the perspective of the poet's father intersect in solidarity, collective living, and justice. Seeing these points of intersection is valuable, and of course, that in itself is a noble act. 

But what about the subject of revolution? Ahmed Arif answers this with an open heart and says: "Jesus also says: "What I whisper in your ear, you shall shout from the rooftops." What poet could resist this? If we are talking about revolution, is this saying of Jesus something to be dismissed? One might say, "Sir, he is a prophet, he is a mystic; can he be a revolutionary?" A revolutionary does not necessarily have to be irreligious. A human being is a creature with a very complex structure. You can be a poet 24 hours a day, but you cannot be a revolutionary 24 hours a day. You cannot be a politician or a tradesman 24 hours a day."

In that case, for our poet, Jesus is a revolutionary, and from our perspective, that is where he belongs. The poet's words are valuable in many respects; they offer us an encompassing, inclusive, and profound way of looking at things. He adds a sense of revolution to the prophet, which is striking. 

What Ahmed Arif says in the context of the Prophet of Islam is also important. "Muhammad” says the poet. “He could not have been a prophet. If you pay attention, they are poor, orphaned, destitute, and shepherds. This is not a reality that occurred by chance. The noble entity has always been the people themselves, my child. No matter what nation they belong to, you must not look down on them. The people always deserve to be respected and praised.”

On the other hand, Ahmed Arif attributes an artistic significance to “holy books”. “I do not remember a book as full of poetry as the Bible or the Torah. For instance, I read the Holy Bible constantly throughout my entire middle school and high school life.” he says. And he adds: “The Torah and the Psalms themselves are already poetry. They call them the Psalms, right? Especially the section on Prophet David, and also the section on Prophet Solomon. They are pure, genuine poetry.” While moving from revolutionary prophets to holy books, he reminds us of poetry. This reminder is important because, regardless of who we think wrote them, there is a distinct sensitivity, delicacy, aesthetic, and spirit there. They were not written haphazardly; there are verses there that are brought together with life through their emotion and enthusiasm. At that point, it is necessary to talk about those emotions and the history that journeys toward those emotions. 

Ahmed Arif managed to fit many striking memories, experiences, and events into his 68-year life. In essence, he was quite productive, but he did not want to reveal what he wrote immediately; there were times he waited years for a poem to come to light. Because the poem had not yet reached its maturity. It still had time. On the other hand, the pressures he faced, the torture, and the harsh conditions he lived through are evident. Due to these and other circumstances, he only published one book during his lifetime. And with that single book, Ahmed Arif traveled across the entire country. This is an example that can be cited not only for the country but for the world as well. 

As we said, Ahmed Arif's life was spent in pain. One of the subjects of that pain is poetry. In other words, his only crime was his pen. He brings the massacre that went down in history as the 33 Bullets or the Muğlalı incident to the people he loved so much through his poem “Thirty-Three Bullets.” He was only in his twenties at the time. After the poem, he was taken into custody. He was subjected to a terrible beating. He describes what happened next as follows: “After beating me, they threw me down from those wires. I just stayed there. In the morning, the street cleaners came and found me. Stray dogs kept coming and sniffing me. I was terrified they would think I was dead and eat me. They took pity and pulled me out of there.”

Feelings like pity and shame are undoubtedly related to the process of becoming human. Those who stall this process at certain points, or even reverse it, know neither shame nor pity. Mobs combined with blind bigotry and fanaticism create a nightmarish history. 

The Sansaryan Han, where the poet was taken in 1952, constitutes one of those nightmares. They would give him a quarter of a loaf of bread a day. "It is also a dry thing" says Ahmed Arif. He says he could not eat even a morsel and only drank water. His beard reached his chest, his hair was like felt, and he remained in this hell for months. And one day, he is told that a telegram arrived from his mother. Ahmed Arif describes the rest as follows: "One night, they brought a lightning-fast telegram. Chief Commissioner Sacit Bey brought it. The telegram said: "Your father has died, the funeral is left on the ground, I cannot come there." Signed: Your mother Arife." The poet suffers a terrible shock and does not know what to do. Afterwards, he is taken to the hospital; three hospitals refuse to admit him, thinking Ahmed Arif will die, and finally, the Kasımpaşa Naval Hospital admits him and applies shock therapy. And later, it turns out that his mother never sent such a telegram.

Why, then, did he endure all these pains and tortures? Because he wrote about poverty, misery, and the injustices inflicted upon people, of course; his only crime was his pen. Yet, if he had wanted, he could have led a much more comfortable life and lived in "luxury and pleasure." Indeed, his father was Arif Hikmet Bey, one of the bureaucrats of the era, and his mother was Sare Hanım, the daughter of Sheikh Abdülkadir Cibrali, one of the scholars of the time. His grandfathers and lineage were among the pashas of the Ottoman Empire. However, there is bravery in his nature, a love for the people, and a struggle for humanity. He lives for that nature and keeps this secret. And we know he took this banner from those who "give their heads but not their secrets." Let us then remember the history of that banner:

"If you only knew how I love.

Köroğlu,

Karayılan,

The Unknown Soldier...

Then Pir Sultan and Bedrettin.

Then the pen cannot write,

So many loves...

If you only knew,

How they loved me.

If you only knew, the one who fired the bullet in Urfa

From the minaret, from the barricade,

From the cypress branch,

How he would laugh at death.

I absolutely want you to know,

Do you hear me?”

Within the history we are discussing, Ahmed Arif also holds Mustafa Kemal in a separate place; he states that the Ottoman Empire exerted great pressure on the people and looked down upon the nation, and for this very reason, he says there is no aspect of the Ottoman Empire worth praising. “If a sense of dignity has been bestowed upon the Turk,” says Ahmed Arif, “it is Mustafa Kemal who bestowed this dignity. In the Ottoman Empire, the concept of 'Turkishness' was not even a subject of discussion. It was an element of insult, an element of contempt. It is Mustafa Kemal who mentioned Turkishness as a concept, as a nation, with consciousness, patience, and persistence. This is also what is primarily meant by the so-called Atatürk principles. That is, a patriotic order that sides with the people against imperialism and capitalism. An independent order…” 

When we speak of Anatolia, bread, and sweat; when we speak of the mention of faith from Jesus to Muhammad with a revolutionary discourse, one of the first names that comes to mind is undoubtedly Ahmed Arif. With his loves, poems, and letters, the poet is a wise pen whose name will always be spoken of and remembered with respect, not only in the period he lived but also in the years that followed. Memory and history are important in this respect. They do not only shed light on the past, but also serve as a mirror to today and tomorrow. As our young writer Elif Akpolat says in her book titled 'Forgetting' “Only societies that have lost their memory would fail to protect what they have lost. With this loss of memory, all their social reflexes would vanish, leaving them mute, inactive, and virtually paralyzed. They could neither ask a question nor react to what was being done to them...” 

Returning to Ahmed Arif He says he wants to die “in a tent on the banks of the Tigris,” adding, “The women sing such beautiful laments,” “No music could ever be that poignant...” However, his grave is not in Diyarbakır, but in Ankara. So why did it turn out that way? This question is also posed to Şeyhmus Diken, who knew the poet and was also his fellow townsman. “Why is his grave not in Diyarbakır, but in Ankara?” they ask. 

“I don’t know,” says Diken and adds: Ahmed Arif is as much from Ankara as he is from Diyarbakır. Didn’t he say, “My longing is coy, Ankara, that must be the reason”

As we conclude our piece, let us ask: Can Ahmed Arif’s entire life fit into seven lines? According to the great poet, it can. 

Here are those lines:

“I wish I were struck down and lost,

In a struggle, stark naked,

I want it to be manly,

Both friendship and enmity,

Yet neither happens,

Bayonets are fixed to the barrels.

The gendarmerie's night patrol begins..."