A statue of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk in the village of Yenice, Turkiye. Initially a junior officer in the Ottoman army from Thessaloniki, Greece, he rose to fame for his lead role in defeating Allied forces invading Anatolia during the War of Independence. Photos: dpa
Aziz Gundogdu is gardening in the backyard of his house in north-western Turkiye, humming a patriotic song about the soldiers lost at the Gallipoli front during World War I.
The 102-year-old resident of Doganca village in Kırklareli province, some 60km from Turkiye’s border with Bulgaria, is looking forward to witnessing the centennial of the Turkish Republic in just a few days.
Like the young republic, the ex-farmer has seen his fair share of challenges in life, striving to build on the ashes of an empire.
“Back in the time, there was extreme poverty. Thank God, we grew together as a society,” Gundogdu says, sitting next to his 75-year-old daughter Necmiye Demirel. The two live together.
Gundogdu says he is “proud” to have reached the republic’s 100th anniversary.
His great-grandchildren love to listen to his stories about the early years of modern Turkiye in which he tells them about how the small society, impoverished and exhausted by years of war in the Balkans and other fronts, transformed.
The new generation will only make the old proud by appreciating the republic, he tells dpa.
Gundogdu has a sharp memory and is physically active, taking long walks and helping with daily work, even chopping woods. The community is happy to have a member of the same age as the republic, says village head Erol Or.
He owes his health to hard work, practice and a strict diet, including his favourite, goat milk, Gundogdu says.
Aziz Gundogdu in the backyard of his house in the village of Doganca, with his daughter Necmiye Demirel, 75. At 102, Gundogdu is older than the Turkish Republic itself.
Gundogdu was born in 1921, two years before Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, also known as Mustafa Kemal Pasha, founded the Turkish Republic. In the absence of radio or newspapers in his remote village, he learned from his teachers about how the “brave Pasha saved the country”.
Gundogdu first came in touch with Ataturk’s reforms while attending first grade in 1928 when a modified Latin alphabet was introduced, replacing the Arabic script used so far.
He remembers how his people gradually embraced many of the Western-inspired, secular reforms, from the civil code to a Western dress style, and rebuilt their community.
After two decades under conservative President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who was re-elected for a third term in May, Islamists are increasingly critical of Ataturk’s legacy, often portraying the late founder of the republic as anti-religious. Nationalist, secular and liberal parties, however, still staunchly defend Ataturk.
When mentioning Ataturk, Gundogdu refers to him as “Father” (Atam in Turkish) and is moved to tears.
The old man recalls how he learned about the leader’s death in 1938, a November day on which “the entire village wept”.
“If he was alive today, I would walk for days to meet and thank him in person,” he says, clasping the red and white Turkish flag in his hand.
Some 25km to the north, next to the picturesque landscape of the Istranca Forests, 101-year-old Kiymet Akyuz lives with her daughter in Yenice village.
A large golden Ataturk statue meets visitors at the village entrance.
Akyuz’s family was among those who came to settle in Yenice from Thessaloniki as part of a population exchange between Greece and Turkiye which started in 1923 and saw about 1.5 million people forcibly relocated.
Kiymet Akyuz, 101, in her house in the village of Yenice with her Turkish identity card on her lap. Akyuz’s family was among those who arrived in Yenice from Thessaloniki as part of a population exchange between Greece and Turkiye in 1923.
The village was predominantly populated by ethnic Greeks prior to the exchange under the Lausanne Treaty – which also set the borders of modern Turkiye.
Since her health started deteriorating, Akyuz’s daughter Meral Savas has been taking care of her. The mother has difficulty articulating herself these days.
Akyuz’s parents used to affectionately call her “our daughter of the republic” (Cumhuriyet Kizim in Turkish), says 81-year-old Savas.
“I am Ataturk’s daughter,” Akyuz used to reply in pride.
Back in Doganca, Aziz Gundogdu recalls his father served in the army during WW I, which ended with the collapse of the Ottoman Empire.
Now, decades later, he calls on his compatriots to “appreciate the Republic and Ataturk’s legacy” amid several tests facing Turkey today, including record inflation levels and Erdogan’s ever-increasing grip on power.
“This is what holds us together... We came here from nothing, future generations must know,” he says. – dpa/Ergin Hava
