Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
“Today marks the 111th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. As we honor the 1.5 million Armenians murdered by the Ottoman Empire across modern-day Turkey, Syria, and Armenia, we must refuse to let history repeat itself;” wrote Zohran Mamdani.
Sigara (and its unruly cousin, cigara) comes to Turkish via Italian — a linguistic clue that matches the prevailing historical account: tobacco reached the Ottoman Empire in the 17th century through Genoese trade routes, though some credit goes to the British. Origins aside, the word now points to a habit so entrenched it once traveled abroad as cliché: “smoke like a Turk.”
The word of the week is—surprise, surprise—“boycott.” This word has its roots in Ireland but was readily adopted by the Ottoman Empire as “boykotaj” in the early 20th century. It all began with a stubborn man and a group of angry farmers. Charles Boycott, the eponymous land agent in 19th-century Ireland, refused to lower rents. In return, local tenants refused to acknowledge his existence—no violence, no slogans—just pure, icy silence. Labourers wouldn’t work his land, shopkeepers wouldn’t serve him, even the postman changed routes in what was the forefather of today’s cancel culture. Boycott became so isolated that his name turned into a verb.
Halep (Aleppo, proper name) touches Turkish hearts, minds, imagination, language and, of course, the political rhetoric in a way few cities of the Ottoman Empire do. The southern jewel of the empire, the city has been a touchstone of trade, culture, and storytelling. But, as far as your cheeky columnist is concerned, its true linguistic value lies in being the punchline in one of Turkey’s wittiest sayings: “Halep oradaysa arşın burada”—“If Aleppo is there, the yardstick is here.” This phrase is more than a geographic observation; it’s a challenge. Based on the oral tale of a man who claimed that back in his great days in Aleppo, he could leap just as high as one could imagine, it’s what you say to someone boasting about their impressive feats in far-off places. “Sure, we can no longer ask around in Aleppo,” it implies, “but let’s see how you measure up here, in the present, with evidence.” In other words, put up or shut up and do not expect us to be persuaded by tall tales.
Maarif (Education, noun) is derived from the basal root Arf in Arabic, meaning knowledge. In the Ottoman Empire and early years of the Turkish Republic, the Education Ministry was called “Maarif Vekaleti.” In 1946, Maarif Vekaleti was rebaptized as “Milli Eğitim Bakanlığı,” using the modern Turkish word for both education and ministry and adding the term “national.”