Poetry Translation #1: “Anlatamıyorum” by Orhan Veli

Scroll down if you just want to see the translation.

To say that it’s been a while since I posted here would be an understatement. However, I’ve always planned to come back here and post things at least semi-regularly – there’s just so much to write about!

A side interest of mine is Turkish poetry. Specifically, the translation of individual poems into English. I take part in a group where students and recent grads meet regularly to translate short stories from Turkish to English, with the occasional poem thrown in, and I do a few poems here and there when the mood strikes me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no pro – my Turkish isn’t nearly good enough – but when I first started studying Turkish, I would look for translated Turkish poems both in print and online. I immediately noticed that even the most famous poets had poems without readily available English translations (I’m sure they’ve been translated somewhere, maybe in someone’s thesis or dissertation), and where they were available, the translations were sometimes not very good. They often seem to be literal translations by non-native English speakers, sometimes with additional words thrown in to further explain a line that takes the reader even further away from the nuances of the original Turkish.

And to their credit, these self-motivated translators are doing their best with the tools they have. Translating poetry is hard. Translating into a language other than your own, doubly so. But I couldn’t help but feel that the world was being robbed of some truly great poetry simply because the translations weren’t out there, and where they were, they were lacking a certain something.

So I started translating my own. Here’s the first in what I hope will be an ongoing series.

I translated this one a few days ago, as always, with significant help from my Turkish significant other. This poem is by Orhan Veli Kanik, one of the most famous and important poets of modern Turkey. Although he only lived to the age of 36, by the time he died he had already made his mark on Turkish literature and will hopefully be the topic of a future post.

But for now, here’s my interpretation of “Anlatamıyorum (I Cannot Explain)”:

If I cried, would you hear the sound
In my lines?
Can you touch my tears
With your eyes?
I did not know that songs were so beautiful,
Whereas words were so inadequate,
Before falling into this trouble.
There is a place, I know;
It’s possible to say everything;
I got very close, I hear it.
I cannot explain.

Note on the translation:

I was translating this over the phone with my boyfriend, and my initial interpretation of the second occurrence of the verb duymak was not “hear”, but an alternative and less common meaning, “feel”. The verb is used twice, but the second time around, I was certain that “feel” was the correct meaning. My boyfriend convinced me that “hear” was by far the more common and natural usage, so I went with it, but I still think the double meaning here was deliberate.

Some musings on media coverage of terrorist attacks in Turkey

Note: I originally wrote this in the wake of the January 12, 2016 bombing in Istanbul, which killed 13 German tourists. I didn’t publish it because I had a lot on my plate at the time, and I wasn’t really sure where I was going with it anyway, so it was just a rambling mess. However, developments since January have had me revisiting this idea in my head so I have tried to turn this mess into something somewhat legible. 

When Paris was hit by a series of coordinated terrorist attacks that left 130 dead on November 13, the massive popular outcry and global show of support quickly met with controversy as people wondered why a double suicide attack that took place in Beirut just a day earlier did not trigger a similar international response. Critics noted that Facebook’s security check-in feature was offered in Paris but not in Beirut, and an old article from last summer about an al-Shabaab attack began circulating through online social media platforms to prove the point that Westerners only cared about other Westerners – after all, wasn’t this the first time that most of them read the al-Shabaab article?

The discrepancy could possibly be explained by other factors. Have attacks in Lebanon become normalized in the minds of online audiences, something which Elie Fares deplores for having happened in the minds of locals themselves? Is it a matter of scale, or that empathy fatigue limits our ability to respond? Is it that consumers of online news are more likely to feel some connection to Paris by way of literature, popular culture, or because they are more likely to visit Paris – still one of the top tourist destinations in the world – than Beirut? A quick Google search leads to these two Wikipedia pages on attacks in Lebanon and France, which you can use to compare incidents if that’s really what you want to do with your time, but that’s your call.

I wasn’t surprised by the difference in coverage, nor by the scathing criticism or the response to that coverage. What really baffled me was the discrepancy between different levels of international media coverage of attacks within the same country.

On October 10, bombers targeted a peace rally in Ankara, killing 102 people – the deadliest attack in Turkey’s history. You may be wondering, with a war next door and violence at home, isn’t this normal? Well, not in Ankara, and certainly not at this scale. Either way, no one in the country wasted time before pointing fingers, speculating about which terrorist organization in the country was responsible, and if/to what extent the government was responsible for letting the attack happen in the first place. But the international response was tepid at best, and several media outlets focused on the accompanying publication ban, which prohibited images and videos of the incident. And even during the backlash against the attention given to Paris compared to Lebanon, the Ankara attack was still entirely absent from the discussion.

Is it any wonder, then, that Turkish fans booed the minute of silence for Paris victims a month later at a soccer game with Greece? After all, where was their minute of silence? I admit that this is speculation, as we can’t know for sure what all the booing fans were thinking, but would certainly not be surprised if this was the case for at least some of those present. I may well be overthinking it (it might just be obnoxious fans being obnoxious), but that was the first thing that came to my mind when I heard about the incident, and I was hardly alone in reaching that conclusion.

After the January 12 attack on the historically rich, tourist-filled Sultanahmet area happened, I expected another tepid response, and was surprised to hear from several people I know asking if I was okay, along with more widespread foreign media coverage. I was confused until I found out that most of those who were killed in the attack were German tourists. The response from German Chancellor Angela Merkel made sense. The response from the rest of the world did not. A colleague of mine – at the time a student – even received an email from her university offering counselling and other resources in case she needed help dealing with the incident. She shrugged it off, observing that it was hardly the first time there was an attack during her stay in Turkey.

Were foreign audiences suddenly becoming more sensitive to events in Turkey? Well, unfortunately, another attack in Ankara a month later seemed to say that they weren’t. On February 17, a car bomb targeting military vehicles killed 28 people, including both military personnel and civilians. I’m not saying that there was zero response to this attack from abroad (I found an article to link here, didn’t I?), but it seemed to have gone as quickly as it came, and I didn’t hear from anyone back home about this one – not even those who reached out to me following the bombing in November. What does the world have against Ankara? Or is it just far enough to be more “over there” and less “I relate to this place” than Istanbul?

But I’m not here to guilt people about what news they read and share online, nor am I going to try to convince people to care more about certain countries. No news is good news, and less news may well be the key to a happier, less anxiety-ridden life. I’m not going to share a news article about every major terrorist attack that occurs, even if it happens not far from me here in Istanbul. (My strategy for dealing with such situations in Turkey is this: when something happens, I make sure to post on Facebook and/or send an email to family members and close friends about completely unrelated things, so that if they hear about the incident, by putting two and two together they can see for themselves that the attack took place at x o’clock and I posted y hours later. After the bombing in Sultanahmet, a friend told me that every time she hears about something bad happening in Turkey, she is always relieved when she sees me active on Facebook. This strategy works.)

I’d like people to know more about Turkey, it’s an interesting place. But so are other places, and this isn’t a contest. An attack on a plane at Sabiha Gökçen Airport, Istanbul’s second airport on the Asian side, left one cleaner dead and another injured on December 23. Did you miss it? If so, it’s not your fault. Well, it is, in the sense that you’re not actively scouring foreign media for attacks abroad, but it wasn’t even that widely covered either. I myself was temporarily out of the country at the time, and didn’t know about it until I got back.

When it comes to my personal safety, when I was writing this in the aftermath of the Sultanahmet attack, I was more worried about getting swine flu on the metro than I was about being the victim of another terrorist act in Istanbul. But that doesn’t mean I’m not deeply troubled by recent events throughout the country or that I don’t exercise caution when I’m out and about.

But don’t worry, Facebook has Turkey covered now. After the February bombing, Facebook implemented its safety check-in feature in Ankara – even asking those in Istanbul if we were in Ankara at the time, and if so, to check ourselves and our friends in. I guess they learned their lesson after Paris. Here it is in its current (i.e. deactivated) form:

ankara explosion screen grab

(Sorry it’s in French, but you know what they say about language…use it or lose it.)

 

That time I almost missed out on Atatürk Memorial Day

I always find myself thinking about historical events in the fall. In addition to the weather changes hinting at the winter grayness that is yet to come, the arrival of Remembrance Day in Canada inevitably puts me into a contemplative mood. Every year during the month of November, I can’t help but brood over the legacy of conflict and over the First World War in particular. And to be honest, with recent events across the globe, it’s hard not to think about how things got to the way they are today. While I don’t expect any sort of parade on the 11th in a non-Commonwealth country like Turkey, I was pleased to find a box of poppies (I hope the Legion accepts Turkish lira) at the Canadian Consulate early this month – although, true to form, the poppy had fallen off my sweater by the time I had gone from the consulate to the nearest metro station.

When I went back to the consulate a few days later to pick up my documents, I made sure to get there at 9 am sharp to be there as soon as the building was open. A crowd of people who clearly worked inside the office building standing outside, while still others were exiting. Assuming a fire alarm had been set off, I asked a group of people standing nearby what was going on.

“Today is November 10th, the anniversary of the death of Atatürk,” one woman told me. “He died at 9:05, so at 9:05 there will be a minute of silence.”

Now I consider myself to be fairly knowledgeable about Turkey – who can spend any time researching or visiting this country without stumbling across the image of this man, the founder of the Turkish Republic as we know it? – but I didn’t know that people commemorated his death right up the very minute. So I stood with them, quite possibly the only one in the crowd who didn’t do this every year since childhood, and waited.

First, the building sounded its alarm, followed immediately by the alarm of the next building. In front of us was a point where two major highways meet, packed with traffic because it was (a) rush hour, and (b) Istanbul. The cars all stopped at the same time, and their occupants either got out to stand beside their cars or pressed onto their car horns and didn’t let go. I wanted to take a photo or a video but felt too sheepish at first, until I realized that there were indeed some people recording the event. I filmed a few seconds with my phone’s camera, and this is what the entire minute looked and sounded like.

And just like that, it was over. Drivers and passengers got back in their cars and continued their journeys. The workers around me started making their way back to their respective offices, some of them even in tears. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t moved by the whole thing – a city (at least, a part of it) simultaneously coming to a standstill for a minute to remember a man who did not lead without controversy, but who left an indelible mark on the country. And to think – if I had left the house a few minutes later or gone to work first, I would’ve missed it entirely.

To many in Turkey, Atatürk continues to be an extremely important figure, and I hope to write more about him for you in the future.

General Election #2 and a very brief introduction to current Turkish politics

Turkey has just wrapped up its second attempt at a general election after the June election resulted in a hung parliament, and the results are (more or less) in:

AKP: 49.12%, 316

CHP: 25.3%, 134

MHP: 11.9%, 41

HDP: 10.6%, 59

Voter turnout: 87%

Note: exact figures may change as official results are updated

A quick run-down of the parties: 

AKP: Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi, or the Justice and Development Party. Has held a steady majority of seats in every election since coming to power in 2002. It is a conservative party, especially strong but certainly not limited to central and rural parts of the country. Notable in the Turkish context is the party’s religious orientation, which was banned for decades under strict secularism laws stemming from the earliest days of the Turkish Republic. Initially hailed by external observers as a step towards increased pluralism, the AKP’s presence in the Grand Assembly has since given rise to concerns regarding Turkish democracy from both domestic opposition groups and foreign critics. It gained notoriety for its harsh response to the Gezi Park protests, a corruption scandal that has yet to be resolved, and a series of bans targeting internet platforms such as YouTube and Twitter. It is the party of former Prime Minister, current President, and all-around internationally famous/infamous political figure Recep Tayyip Erdoğan.

CHP: Cumhuriyet Halk Partisi, or the Republican People’s Party. It is known for being the party of Turkey’s founder and first leader Mustafa Kemal Atatürk (although its ties to the old CHP are not direct, as all existing parties were outlawed in 1980, and the CHP could not form again until 1992). That, and the fact that other parties did not exist at time the Republic was founded in 1923 – the first opposition party briefly came into existence in 1930, while the first multi-party election took place in 1946 – comfortably secures the CHP’s spot as the oldest party in the country. Associated with the educated elite class that traditionally dominated Turkish politics, it is nationalist and favours Westernization and staunch secularism.

MHP: Milliyetçi Hareket Partisi, or Nationalist Movement Party. This far-right party espouses nationalism as well as conservative values, and is unofficially affiliated with the Grey Wolves, an extremist paramilitary nationalist youth organization. Although its initial electoral successes were limited – it gained only 3.02% of the vote in the 1969 election – it is now the third-largest party, gaining over 10% of the vote in the last few elections.

HDP: Halkların Demokratik Partisi, or People’s Democratic Party. This is a new party and is Turkey’s first pro-Kurdish party that ran in the election as a party (more on this and on the Kurdish question later in another post). In the past, Kurdish candidates ran as independents because by running together, they risked not meeting the 10% threshold needed by all parties to enter the parliament. Aside from its pro-Kurdish stance, the HDP is also a leftist party, notable for its 50% quota for female candidates and a 10% quota for LGBT candidates. Critics have accused the party of maintaining ties with Kurdish militants; however, the party leadership has insisted that it favours non-violent protest and that it hopes to end disputes through the peace process.

Why the snap election?

The initial election held in June ended with a hung parliament. The voting results were:

AKP: 40.87%, 258 seats

CHP: 24.95%, 135 seats

MHP: 16.29%, 80 seats

HDP: 13.12%, 80 seats

Turnout: 83.92%

The AKP fell just short of the 278 seats needed to form a majority government. Talks with the CHP to form a coalition government eventually failed, and neither the MHP or HDP would enter negotiations with the AKP. In the lead up to the November election, polls did not indicate clear changes of popular support in any direction, prompting some commentators to predict a similar outcome to that in June and others to expect a decrease in support for the AKP.

What do these new results mean?

With an increase of over 4 million votes from the June election, the AKP is now able to form a government by itself. The AKP has been seeking, among other things, to expand the power of the President. Erdoğan, the party’s patriarch and current President. In the Turkish system, the role of the President is largely ceremonial, while the Prime Minister holds real political power. As the de facto leader of the AKP in a political context where parties are centered around a specific individual, Erdoğan already plays a significant role beyond the limits of his official duties and wishes to amend the constitution to grant the President more power in the law.

However, in order to do this, the party needs more support. A simple majority is not enough; in fact, the AKP would need 330 seats to bring the issue to a referendum without the support of any other parties, and 367 to pass an amendment without the need for a referendum. Had the HDP not passed the threshold – which it barely managed this time around, dropping 3% nationwide as it did – then according to the Turkish version of the D’Hondt method, the redistribution of its share of the vote would have given the AKP enough seats to introduce the amendment.

This year’s elections have intersected with a series of major political issues, such as ongoing tensions with Kurdish militants and fallout from the Syrian Civil War (more on those and how they shape Turkish political discourse later). Following an attack on October 12 in Ankara that left over 100 dead, the PKK, a militant organization that has garnered much sympathy in the southeast due to its decades-long fight war with the state for Kurdish autonomy, declared a ceasefire in the run-up to the election. However, the underlying issues have yet to be resolved and the future of the peace process is unclear. The two-million-and-counting Syrians in Turkey are another polarizing issue, with no end in sight for the Syrian crisis. Other challenges – a crackdown on media and online freedoms, unresolved corruption issues, a break with and current animosity towards a very powerful former ally – continue to plague the AKP. With a majority of seats secured, the AKP government is in a better position to stabilize the country than a coalition would have been in such a highly polarized political climate. One can only hope that it makes the right choices in the future.

For more details on election results, you may visit the websites of several Turkish news agencies such as that of NTV or CNN Türk.