In these incidents, which came to be referred to as the Maraş massacre -- forming a major milestone in the run-up to the military coup of Sept. 12, 1980, 111 Alevis died and thousands were wounded, according to official figures. Given the extent of the incidents, one can suggest that the real figures must be much higher.
The Maraş massacre has a very special place in Turkish history, which is rife with provocations. In fact, the Maraş massacre shares similar characteristics with many previous provocations. The incidents were sparked by the bombing of a movie theater frequented by nationalists. As was the case with the Sept. 6-7, 1955 incidents, it was later found that the bomber was actually a nationalist who had ties to the deep state. Again, as seen in the incidents of Sept. 6-7, the houses of Alevis were marked ahead of the massacre. Two Alevi teachers were killed. The incidents started during the funeral ceremony of these teachers. The funeral was attacked by a large crowd of nationalists who were provoked by rumors that Alevis had burned down mosques and killed Sunnis. The ensuing massacre that occurred in Alevi neighborhoods was so horrible that it can leave humans at a loss for words.
Just as it has not confronted or challenged any other massacre, Turkey did not confront or challenge the Maraş massacre. It was not even possible to commemorate the Maraş massacre until the recent commemoration ceremony held a few days ago in Maraş during which very thought-provoking incidents happened. I will discuss this ceremony in my article on Friday.
There is not the slightest of doubt about the involvement of the Turkish deep state, or the Turkish Gladio, which was the precursor to today's Ergenekon, in the Maraş incidents of 1978. But if we tend to treat such incidents only with respect to their political repercussions and put all the blame on the deep state, without trying to understand the psychological moods of the people who played a role in such massacres, does this take us anywhere? Why are people in Turkey so easily manipulated in such provocations? Why do we so readily forget these incidents? As I will try to explain in the sequel to this article, nothing is forgotten, but our failure to confront and discuss such massacres only allows the pro-massacre spirit to continue to live in Turkey.
The details of the massacre in Maraş cannot be squeezed into this article. It would certainly be better if several documentaries be shot or novels or textbooks be written about this tragic incident so that we never forget about them and that history never repeats itself. Novelist İnci Aral has treated the Maraş incidents in her storybook "Kıran Resimleri" (Pictures of Destruction). Her descriptions of how she was able to write those stories amply indicate the horrifying effect of the incidents themselves. Let us read how Aral decided to write her storybook on the Maraş massacre (see Orhan Tüleylioğlu, “Maraş Katliamı”):
"For three days, the city was truly a battlefield and was on fire. … According to official figures, 111 people were killed by shooting, cutting or burning. Shops, houses and people's residential sanctuaries were attacked; women were raped; abdomens of pregnant women were cut and fetuses were nailed to trees. The breasts of young girls were mutilated and placed on sticks and put on display. … Images published by papers and broadcast on TV were unbearable for anyone with a human conscience. … For months I could not get rid of those memories and the horror of the incidents. … I had considered going to Kahramanmaraş and making on-the-spot observations about the incidents, and the following words of a friend of mine from Maraş reaffirmed my intention: ‘Maraş is still a bleeding wound. … Why don't you consider writing about those incidents?'
“One night, I got on the bus and went to Maraş. … Those who survived the incidents had returned to their villages after the incidents. The next day, they started to take me from one village to another, sometimes with a motorcycle and sometimes on a horse carriage -- and sometimes on extremely packed minibuses, for 10 days. They treated me as their guest in their poor houses. … They incessantly talked about the massacre and violence that befell them. Never before had I seen such entrenched poverty, helplessness and sincerity. Finding myself in a different world and among the people whom I only knew to exist by hearsay was touching. There I learned the beauty of the human heart and warmth of my people.
“When I returned to Ankara, I could not speak for a month. I then obtained the minutes of hearings [Author's note: She is referring to a lawsuit brought in connection with the massacre and which proved unproductive] from the joint attorneys and read the witness testimonies, which were stuffed into 40 dossiers. As I read through the minutes in tears, I came to believe what the villagers had told me about the massacre. On that day my migraine started.
“For one year I thought about how to narrate this violence. … I was not a journalist but a writer. I might tell an intense or harsh story, but it must fall within the limits of literature and be permanent. In the early 1980s I started to work on ‘Kıran Resimleri' with the first story, ‘Elif.' I was only able to write one story per month because I could not get over it any quicker. … I completed the book a year later. …
“‘Kıran Resimleri' is a bold initiative for me and a watershed of my 35 years of authorship. This small book speaks from the perspective of a writer how people who had been living together for centuries and who had been neighbors and who had intermarried could in only a couple of days be turned into enemies who would kill each other.”
Now read what Aral wrote, and in particular her last paragraph, from the perspective of the 1915 Armenian massacre, the 1934 Jewish pogroms, the Sept. 6-7, 1955 incidents and many other bloody events in Turkey's past. You will see that Turkish history repeats itself. And this will continue if we don't confront the past.
