Despite the fact that he was employed by the Turkish Investment Support and Promotion Agency as its representative in Brazil, Hasan was in love with Peru and spent most of his time in that country. His love was not baseless and was not unanswered. He loved the Peruvians, and the Peruvians loved him.I knew Hasan from his work in Israel and Palestine. During my stay in Jerusalem as the representative of the Zaman daily, Hasan came to Israel to study and work voluntarily in a prestigious conflict resolution center established in Jerusalem. What an amazing person he was! He used to carry the future of humanity on his shoulders. To use a Hegelian term, his spirit was a “we.” He experienced life as a subject that is plural rather than singular. But that “we” in spirit did not have a unified, homogeneous voice. “They” all spoke at the same time. Listening to Hasan, I used to find myself asking: “How many consciousnesses are there in your mind, Hasan? How many people are speaking with that single mouth of yours?” Hasan’s voice was a cacophony of several Hasans.
Hasan was a tireless project creator. Every evening he would come to my house and would tell me about his brand new project that would solve the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. More often than not, he was not aware that the project he was telling me about was in fact several projects being spoken about simultaneously by the same mouth. He was tireless, but I used to get tired of his endless solutions.
Normally, we create a grand life project and make short-term plans that fit into that grand project. Whenever we find ourselves in a position to change one of those short-term plans, we do not change the grand project; we simply substitute that plan with another one that equally fits our grand project. Hasan was different. With every new plan, he would change his grand life project. That is why I say, “He used to carry the future of humanity on his shoulders.” If one simple plan to educate the Gazan children needed a master teacher, Hasan would give up all his lifelong projects and become that teacher. If that would oblige him to learn an extra language, so be it! Three years ago he was in İstanbul to join politics. Upon failing to be nominated as a candidate, he found solace in a voluntary job with Kimse Yok Mu, an aid organization, and went to Peru with them.
He did not return. He visited several other countries from then on, but his heart and mind were in Peru.
One life force would not be enough to carry all those continuously changing life stories on one man’s shoulders. Hasan had the life force of several people. Tirelessly speaking, tirelessly dreaming, tirelessly altering his future together with that of all of humanity, Hasan offered immense energy for life. I used to think that the Angel of Death would have to take the lives of several people at once when it came to take back the life entrusted to Hasan.
It did just that.
For those who did not know Hasan, what was lost in Peru on the first day of the new year was one extra human life. For people like me, who listened to the polyphony behind his words, what was lost was a whole range of “we.” That plurality of selves in one person bothered some of his friends. But that was not his intention. I am sure Hasan would have loved to be only one of the people he was at one and the same time. Hasan was several souls trapped in one body.
This is not an obituary.
Hasan was two years younger than me. He had a life force several times stronger than mine. I am sure that he had thousands of plans for the year 2010. But when the Archangel Azrael, the Angel of Death, comes, the number of your plans for next year, or the years to come, do not add to your breaths. My generation has reached an age of referring to some of our best friends as “the late.” It is high time to decrease the number of projects we have in mind and increase the number we have realized.
May Hasan’s several souls rest in peace. May God bestow His mercy upon him.
