How did Çetin Altan report Yaşar Kemal to the martial law commander?

Interview and Photos: Sercan Meriç

Journalist and author Mine Kırıkkanat reveals her life story, which witnessed Turkey's recent history, in all its nakedness in her book Barut, published by Kırmızı Kedi. Inspired by the title of her book, Kırıkkanat explains how the "gunpowder" that fueled her writing journey was accumulated. She shares many previously hidden memories with readers for the first time, spanning a wide spectrum from her family roots to the '68 generation, from Çetin Altan to Yaşar Kemal, and from Oya Baydar to Harun Karadeniz. It is clear that Kırıkkanat's new book and her statements will be widely discussed in the coming period. The floor is now Kırıkkanat's...

We are here to talk about your new book, 'Barut, Her Şeyin Bedeli Var' (Gunpowder, Everything Has a Price). How was this "gunpowder" accumulated?

Life is a struggle. Even a war. You definitely need to use weapons in war. My weapon is my pen. In this book, I describe how a bullet is prepared for that weapon with knowledge, experience, pain, joy, success, and disappointment. Naturally, the title became "Gunpowder." My gunpowder is ready. This is the book of how my gunpowder was filled. In the second volume, the fire will start, the war will begin.

What kind of family did you grow up in?

I was born to elderly parents. My beautiful older sister Suna, from my mother's first marriage, was actually like a little mother to me. As a family, it was a story pushed by World War I, which forced my father's side to migrate—forced to migrate to Istanbul—where they lost all their wealth despite being a wealthy family. My father became a soldier because he was left an orphan, and my uncle, under the same conditions, the same deprivation, the same war—the process that began with World War I and the occupation of Turkey—also became a soldier. It was a family of extremely cultured people who had known no lack in their past but had lost their wealth and started from scratch. Even though my mother was born so long ago, she had graduated from the School of Commerce, was a Turkish typing champion, and had worked as an assistant to one of Atatürk's first and most important ministers of transport. As for my father, he was placed in a military school because he was an orphan, but he was able to enter the Polytechnic and studied engineering in France. I was born into a family that was culturally intellectual and highly politicized, very much intertwined with politics.

What kind of child were you?

I was a sickly child. It turned out later that I had a "dark flesh" constitution. In the book, I talk about people as having "dark flesh" or "white flesh." I got better after my tonsils were removed. It was heading toward rheumatic heart disease, and having those tonsils removed saved me. But until those tonsils were removed, I started working by reading newspapers, and at that time, I was reading Çetin Altan. Imagine a 6-7-year-old child reading Çetin Altan. Even then, I would read columns. I read an incredible number of books, and in the end, the story I tell in Barut slowly prepared me for writing. Despite having a very good education, I didn't know what I should be or what I wanted to be. For example, painting interested me more, art interested me more. Then life pushed me toward becoming a writer.

You met Kozan Asova while you were in high school during the '68 period. Can we say that your husband, Kozan Asova, was actually your first teacher in leftist politics?

Yes, exactly. Kozan Asova was from the Kozanoğlu family on his mother's side, and the son of a very wealthy businessman from Cyprus on his father's side. He was a member of the Workers' Party of Turkey, very intelligent, a student at the Technical University, incredibly cultured, someone who read more than I did and introduced me to classical music and Russian literature. As mentioned in Barut, he also gave me the chance to become the first female pirate broadcaster in the history of Turkish television. I learned a lot from him. I loved him very much. But unfortunately, we lost him to alcohol. I realized too late that the wonderful man I fell in love with at 15 and married at 20 was an alcoholic. I became pregnant to gift the world a beautiful child who would also carry his genes. Later, I had to raise my child alone.

You used to describe your meeting with Harun Karadeniz as "like a joke." How did you meet Karadeniz, one of the most important leaders of the '68 movement?

I was studying at Notre Dame de Sion. I was in my second year of high school at the time. My friend's boyfriend was at the Faculty of Mines at Maçka Technical University. My fiancé, Kozan, was also studying chemical engineering at the same university. At that time, the universities were under occupation, and we were constantly going to the meetings of the leftists there. Harun Karadeniz was there, and a workers' rally was being prepared. So, I wanted to help too. I said, "Give me one, and I'll write a banner." "Sure," they said. They handed me a brush and a huge piece of cloth. I wrote the slogan you will read in the book beautifully on it. Everyone took a look and turned their heads. Harun Karadeniz also showed great sympathy toward me. He was Kozan's friend. He came and looked, probably not wanting to hurt my feelings. "Hmm, hmm, let's put this aside," he said. I was very curious about why. Then they didn't use my banner. While everyone else had written in block letters, I had written in calligraphy, just as I was trained at Notre Dame de Sion... That was my memory with Harun Karadeniz.

You actually start university at the Faculty of Law. Later, you switch to sociology. The reason for that is Muzaffer Sencer and Oya (Baydar) Sencer...

Oya Sencer, whom we know today as Oya Baydar, was Muzaffer Sencer's wife at the time... Muzaffer Sencer had written a very important book called Land Ownership in Turkey. According to information I obtained later, he wrote that book by himself, but I suppose because he was so in love with Oya Sencer, they put her name on it too. Therefore, I started sociology as an admirer of both of them. But when I saw Oya Sencer lecturing, I found her extremely repulsive and cold, and I regretted entering sociology. It was a huge disappointment.

At this point, how do you evaluate the actions of Oya Baydar and the "yetmez ama evet" (not enough, but yes) circle?

They were as intelligent as I was. They were as knowledgeable as I was. The inference I made was a logical one. They made an emotional inference. I don't know who was controlling those emotions; I cannot say. But I don't believe they were that stupid. The fact that they don't apologize, even after admitting they were foolish and silly, is proof enough that they are guilty.

How did you meet Çetin Altan?

We met at the magazine Çarşaf. Just imagine, I started reading Çetin Altan's articles when I learned to read at the age of 5 or 6. Later, when Çetin Emeç invited me to Çarşaf, I encountered Çetin Altan for the first time. It had been four years since Çetin Altan had been released from prison. No one would give him work. That is where Çetin Emeç's magnificent humanity came into play. Every week, he would write portraits of people he knew, in the style of portraits, without naming them. One day, he called me over. After that, our shared culture, the French culture, came into play. I was working with nine men at Çarşaf; I was the only woman. 'What are you looking for among these wolves, little lamb?' he asked me. I was very angry. I said, 'Perhaps I am a wolf, too.' 'No,' he said, 'You are not dark-fleshed; we are the dark-fleshed people, you are white-fleshed.'

What is this matter of dark-fleshed and white-fleshed?

One day, Çetin Altan goes to visit Cumhuriyet... İlhan Selçuk is a very good friend of his. And he meets with Melih Cevdet Anday in İlhan Selçuk's office. İlhan Selçuk had a very beautiful office in the old building.

In Cağaloğlu...

Yes, in the building in Cağaloğlu. İlhan Selçuk is writing his article, and the two of them are chatting—and their conversation never ends. Then, as evening approaches, they get up and say, 'Let's go for a drink.' 'No, I can't come,' says İlhan Selçuk. 'Why?' they ask. 'You are dark-fleshed men. I am a white-fleshed man. I cannot keep up with you,' he says. It was understood that both Melih Cevdet Anday and Çetin Altan were dark-fleshed, given that they lived such long lives despite burning the candle at both ends—meaning alcohol, cigarettes, women, you name it. However, it turned out that İlhan Selçuk was not as white-fleshed as all that; in fact, he was extremely resilient, and even though he didn't live life to such extremes as they did, he was also dark-fleshed. But the surprise—the real surprise—was that I, whom they thought was a lamb among wolves and white-fleshed, was actually dark-fleshed, with lungs that were broad and resilient despite my tiny frame, as evidenced by the life I have lived. As you can see, I am here before you.

Did Çetin Altan report Yaşar Kemal to Martial Law Commander Necdet Üruğ because he was jealous of him?

Çetin Altan was not a black-and-white man. He was neither black nor white; he was gray. And in those shades of gray, he was a man closer to black than white. He did good deeds for people, but he also did bad things. And there were inconsistencies. One of the most important reasons for my breaking away from Çetin is this incident. After a trip to Israel, Çetin Altan... "I should be the one to receive the Nobel" he said when he returned to Turkey. I don't actually know what they discussed with former Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin there. He only told me; he didn't tell the public. Perhaps he told his children as well. Some time after that conversation, he began writing for Milliyet. Because he was writing for Milliyet, he started attending official receptions again. The first of those receptions was on October 29, 1979. It took place at the governor's office in Istanbul, which was under martial law. It was then that Çetin Altan reported Yaşar Kemal to the authorities of the time with a very strange sentence, intended to ensure he "would not receive the Nobel."

He said, "Yaşar Kemal is a Kurdish nationalist. Stop him," didn't he?

Yes, he said, "Stop him, he is dangerous for the state."

What kind of person was Ahmet Altan, according to your account?

Ahmet Altan is certainly a cultured person; that is for sure. It is also certain that he reads a lot of books and is even a good writer. Being a good writer does not mean being principled or good. It is something like great authorship versus small-minded humanity. Both Mehmet and Ahmet had disastrous educational lives. I mean, what we finished in about ten years, they finished in about 25. They could never hold onto a school; they would get expelled, and another school would be found. Although Ahmet Altan finished his education through connections, he eventually became something. He became something bad, but he became something. Mehmet Altan, on the other hand, didn't really become much, because I never saw any of his predictions as an economics professor come true. But above all, he certainly does not deserve the title of professor.

Why?

Because we could say he didn't even write his own doctoral thesis. Let's just leave it at that... And in all of this, the important French friends I introduced to Çetin Altan had a great influence.

Why is Ahmet Altan an enemy of the Republic?

Çetin Altan told me that their mother, Kerime, was Kurdish. In other words, Arab-Kurdish. Now, I don't know if she was Kurdish or not, but Çetin Altan told me she was. Kerime was actually a worker at the mansion where Çetin Altan was born. When she became pregnant, Çetin Altan had to tell his father: 'I am getting married.' It was an honorable act, of course, to marry the worker he had made pregnant. But his father kicked them both out of the house. The father was very republican and a staunch Atatürkist. Ahmet Altan was born in Ankara. They had been kicked out of the mansion. In a sense, this is a story of being expelled from paradise... Çetin Altan was not an enemy of Atatürk, nor was he an enemy of the Republic. Nothing bad about Atatürk or the republic ever escaped his lips. He was an enemy of his father. The humiliation of his mother by the household staff even after they were reconciled, and her being an unwanted bride who was not accepted due to her status... All of this created a sense of outrage and a reaction in Ahmet Altan and Mehmet Altan, especially in Ahmet Altan. Who was that reaction directed at? At the grandfather's Atatürkist and republican identity. I can say that all of this led Ahmet Altan to later embrace Kurdish nationalism, and after that proved insufficient, to publish the newspaper of FETÖ and attack the Republic of Turkey with all sorts of lies and slanders. This is my interpretation.

How will 'Barut' be ignited? How will this book series continue?

This is a three-volume memoir series. I have lived so much; they say cats have nine lives, and I suppose I must have been a cat once. One could even say I have had more than nine lives. In the first volume, we loaded the gunpowder. In the second volume, we will fire. In the third volume, of course, we will turn to ash. Because everything ends in ash.