Ramazan SIRACOĞLU
“No one's love can be as much as ours…”
I do not believe that anywhere else in the world is there as much sincerity, attachment, and compassion towards the state of Turkey as in the Republic of Azerbaijan. The love for Turkey in Azerbaijan is indescribably deep. This love is rooted in blood ties, spiritual affinity, memory, and ancestral lineage. I am confident that if a public opinion poll were conducted among our citizens on the topic of “Which state do you think Azerbaijan trusts the most?”, at least ninety percent of respondents would proudly and without hesitation answer “The Republic of Turkey”. It is gratifying that in the last 30 years of modern times, Azerbaijan–Turkey relations have developed along an upward trajectory in all areas. I believe that despite all the insidious policies of some malevolent forces, this pace of development will never weaken. The services of representatives of science and culture, alongside political figures, in strengthening Azerbaijan–Turkey relations are undoubtedly significant.
In the modern era, it is commonplace for citizens of Azerbaijan and Turkey to travel from one country to another at any time, without a visa and without a foreign passport, provided they have the financial means. Perhaps contemporary youth cannot imagine how difficult this matter was during the Soviet regime. The Soviet state's strict Iron Curtain policy left Azerbaijanis longing for Turkey, and Turks longing for Azerbaijan. However, despite all obstacles, there were individuals during the Soviet era, albeit few in number, who could overcome seemingly insurmountable political barriers. For a long time, we recognized each other through them, and formed our perceptions of our countries through their persons. At that time, television channels were also focused solely on the Soviet space, and blue screens only showed reports about those “creating wonders and building communism” in collective farm fields and industrial enterprises, and films on the topic of World War II or in the detective genre were shown. During the Soviet era, Turkish films were very rarely screened in cinemas. In the 1960s, a person who traveled abroad, especially to Turkey, was viewed like an astronaut. It was practically a difficult matter for a Soviet citizen to visit a NATO country. Those wishing to go abroad were issued a foreign passport only after being thoroughly investigated by various authorities, primarily the KGB, and obtaining permission regarding their political stability from relevant organizations, and only on the condition of flying from Moscow. Upon return, that passport was absolutely required to be handed over to the appropriate place in Moscow. It should be noted with pride that in those years, no obstacle could diminish the boundless love of Azerbaijani citizens for Turkey. In this article, I wish to share with esteemed readers the feeling of love shown by Azerbaijani citizens towards Turkey, using a few events that occurred in the last quarter of the previous century as examples.
On September 27, 1967, during the official visit of the then Prime Minister of the Republic of Turkey, Süleyman Demirel, to Baku, an incredible incident occurred at the “Araz” cinema in Baku during the screening of the film “Bir dağ masalı” (A Mountain Tale), based on the work “Bir köy masalı” (A Village Tale) by the famous Turkish writer Reşad Nuri Güntekin, starring film star Türkan Şoray. Since the film was not dubbed, the organizers had considered the method of simultaneous translation into Russian. At the beginning of the film, the protagonist, young teacher Lale (Türkan Şoray), teaches her students outdoors:
“Forests are one of the most important sources of income for a nation. Forests prevent fertile soils from being washed into the seas by floods and winds, and help with rainfall. The biggest enemies of forests are fires and goats…”
The translator sitting in the projectionist's booth began to translate the words of teacher Lale in the film: “Леса являются одним из важнейших источников дохода для нации. Леса препятствуют вымыванию плодородной почвы…”
The audience in the hall collectively raised their voices in protest to the translator:
– She's speaking our own language, what are you translating? Ignoring the serious protests of the audience, when the translator rendered teacher Lale's sentence to her students, “Ormanları korumak sadece korucunun değil, hepimizin görevidir. Şimdi dersimiz müzik, hazır mısınız, çocuklar?” (Protecting forests is not only the duty of the forest ranger, but of all of us. Now our lesson is music, are you ready, children?) as “Охрана лесов — это долг не только лесника, но и каждого из нас” (Protecting forests is the duty not only of the forest ranger, but of each of us), the hall roared again like a turbulent sea:
– Chatterbox, shut up! “Don't play with our nerves!” “Let us watch the movie!” “Don't bother us!” Some protested in Russian: “Эй, сапожник, глуши мотор” (Hey, shoemaker, shut off the engine). There were also those shouting coarser words: “Завали хлебало, толмач!” (Shut your trap, interpreter!)
The cinema management intervened: – Comrades, don't make a fuss. Perhaps someone doesn't understand? What harm is there in translation?
The audience absolutely disagreed with him: – Don't make trouble for yourselves, we don't need translation. There's no one here who doesn't understand. If there is, let that person speak up.
When scattered voices of “понимаем, понимаем” (we understand, we understand) were heard from the floor, the administrator had nothing left to say. Thus, the film “Bir dağ masalı” was shown in Turkish until the end. This incident, seemingly small and insignificant at first glance, was, in fact, an indicator of the futility of the language policy pursued for years by Soviet ideology propagandists. After all, according to those ideologues, as a result of the triumph of Leninism, a new historical unity of people – the Soviet people – had emerged in Soviet society. However, those who watched the film “Bir dağ masalı” shown at the “Araz” cinema instantly realized that this film was in their own language. Turkey, which Soviet ideologues had tried for years to portray as a NATO country, a capitalist state, and its inhabitants, were just like these very spectators. The song sung in chorus by the small schoolchildren in the film, who resembled Azerbaijani children, seemed to have enchanted the audience:
There is a road, far away:
That road is our road!
Even if we don't turn back, even if we don't reach it
That road is our road!
After leaving the cinema, some of those who watched the film fell under the spell of “our road far away” for life.
In June 1970, the renowned Turkish singer Nesrin Sipahi (performer of the unforgettable song from the famous film “Arım, balım, pətəyim”) won the audience's admiration with her solo concert at the Green Theatre in Baku. Each performance by Nesrin Sipahi, who sang “Sürəyya” by composer Said Rustamov and “Dağlarda duman gözəldi” (The Fog in the Mountains is Beautiful), with music by Ibrahim Topchubashov, in her uniquely sweet dialect, was met with continuous applause.
The concert given by Emel Sayın, who came to Baku in May 1974, at the then Republic Palace named after Lenin, also created a special resonance in our republic. Emel Sayın's rendition of the song “Çile bülbülüm, çile” (Suffer, my nightingale, suffer) with unparalleled mastery at the concert moved the audience and became a topic of discussion for a long time. Ms. Emel's voice captivated the listeners:
You were alone in your desolate nest,
You endured unbearable suffering.
Who would have thought you would smile?
Suffer, my nightingale, suffer...
The singer's saying “ALLAH” at the end of each verse and requesting the audience to repeat this word was a special moment. This act was, in essence, a defiance of the atheist regime, a disregard for the theory of Marxism-Leninism. The vast majority of the approximately 2500-person hall chanting ALLAH in chorus, with loud voices, created a magnificent sound effect. An elderly woman, affectionately embracing Emel Sayın as she sang while walking between the rows in the hall, gifted her necklace to the singer. Emel Sayın's song “Adını anmayacağım” (I Will Not Mention Your Name), sung with special fervor, was performed with the participation of the audience. At the concert, Ms. Emel had asked her beloved audience to sing the chorus of that song together: “Efendim, rica etsem şarkının nakarat kısmına bana eşlik eder misiniz?” (Sir/Madam, if I may ask, would you accompany me on the chorus of the song?) The audience enthusiastically fulfilled this request:
Even if my youth passes,
Even if my lap remains empty;
I will keep my word,
I will not mention your name...
At that moment, the stage and the hall, the singer and the audience, became one, creating a unity. At the strong request of the appreciative Azerbaijani audience, Emel Sayın's 6-concert tour was extended, and she flew from Baku to Moscow with deep impressions after giving several more concerts.
In her last concert, Emel Sayın had sung the lyrics of a famous song, slightly altering them:
It was a spring season with you, we met:
As if we had been searching for each other for years!
We lived happy days without becoming the talk of others...
Now we are strangers— what a pity for each other...
Ms. Emel's meaningful words had moved her admirers. The brave, resolute, and those unafraid of KGB persecutions among the audience had then called out from various places, “we were never strangers, never foreign, God willing, we will always remain kin”.
The boundless love of the large audience for Emel Sayın was, undoubtedly, rooted in the love of Azerbaijani citizens for Turkey. That is to say, the torrent of applause for Emel Sayın was ultimately directed towards Turkey. In those years, Müşerref Akay and İnci Çayırlı, who came to Baku, were also met with the same sincerity and warmth. The Azerbaijani audience, with their continuous, unending applause in concert halls, were, in fact, demonstrating their immense love not for individual persons, but for the country those persons represented – Turkey.
When discussing the cultural ties between Azerbaijan and Turkey, one must never forget the beloved Zeynab Khanlarova. In those years, Ms. Zeynab, with unparalleled skill, had established a throne in the hearts of the Turkic world by singing songs by Azerbaijani and Turkish composers. Her performance brought a special harmony and spirit to the songs “Sev, kardeşim” (Love, my brother) and “Seni, yalancı seni” (You, you liar). Ms. Zeynab's “Sev, kardeşim” is still listened to with great admiration by millions today:
We came into the world once,
Stop fighting, sing this song every day:
Every face smiles as it loves.
May our goals always be one,
Hearts together…
It would be appropriate to recall an incident that occurred in April 1982 between Vahid Halefoğlu, the Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of the Republic of Turkey, who visited the Manuscripts Department (now the Institute of Manuscripts) of the Academy of Sciences, and academician Hamid Arasli. When Vahid Halefoğlu (1919–2017), the Ambassador of the Republic of Turkey to the USSR, stood before Fuzuli's portrait during his visit to the Manuscripts Fund in 1982 and recited the famous ghazal beginning with “Məni candan usandırdı” (I am tired of life), academician Hamid Arasli (1902–1983) completed the words of the tall, handsome Turkish ambassador with the line “Mənə tə’n eyləyən qafil səni görgəc utanmazmı?” (Will not the heedless one who reproaches me be ashamed upon seeing you?). I presume that this conversation was a political message, and when Mr. Hamid recited that line of Fuzuli, he was referring to the Soviet officials accompanying the Turkish ambassador.
For Azerbaijanis, every success of Turkey is a source of pride and joy. There is no need for proof of this. Countless examples can be given. For instance, how did Azerbaijanis celebrate when Galatasaray football club became UEFA champion on May 17, 2000? On August 24, 2001, when the pilots of the Turkish Stars performed exemplary flights in the Baku sky, nearly 2 million Azerbaijanis enthusiastically applauded those glorious falcons from the seaside, streets, and balconies of their homes – these are unforgettable moments. In 2011, the appearance of Nigar Jamal, a member of the Azerbaijani team that won the Eurovision Song Contest with 221 votes for the song “Running Scared”, on stage with the Turkish flag went down in history as the most striking indicator of Azerbaijan's love for Turkey. Azerbaijan always remembers with mercy and respect Enver Pasha, the Minister of War at that time, and Nuru Pasha, the commander of the Caucasian Islamic Army, who saved it from Dashnak-Bolshevik oppression, and takes pride in MEHMETÇİK, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with us in liberating our Karabakh from savage enemy occupation.
Despite the insidious political forces in the international arena that envy the Azerbaijan-Turkey brotherhood, the fraternal ties between the two states will, God willing, remain unshakable. May the words spoken by the famous film star Türkan Şoray in the film “Kara gözlüm” (My Dark-Eyed One) come true:
May no one come between us,
May my Lord not separate us throughout our lives…
