Hüsnü Bingöl in the Crosshairs

World War II ended, but problems in Turkey did not. On the contrary, the political world became even more complicated, with hidden and open confrontations coming to the surface. Soon, dissenting voices began to rise within the CHP, which had governed the country as a single party since 1923. The years between 1945 and 1950 were, in a sense, painful years for Turkey's transition to pluralistic democracy.

In the general elections held on May 14, 1950, the Democratic Party (DP) came to power alone. İnönü remained in opposition. In those years, a pluralistic system was applied in elections. For example, Kars elected ten deputies. Whichever party received the highest votes in Kars would win all the parliamentary seats. In the May 14, 1950 elections, the CHP received the highest votes in Kars. The names of the ten deputies on the CHP list were as follows:

1. Fevzi Aktaş (8th term deputy)
2. Latif Aküzüm (Lawyer)
3. Sırrı Atalay (Judge)
4. Mehmet Bahadır (8th term deputy)
5. Abbas Çetin (Lawyer)
6. Veyis Koçulu (Merchant)
7. Esat Oktay (8th term deputy)
8. Tezer Taşkıran (8th term deputy)
9. Hüsamettin Tuğaç (8th term deputy)
10. Hüseyin Cahit Yalçın (8th term deputy)

GENERAL SITUATION OF KARS POLITICS IN THE 1950s

My reader should know that Iğdır and Ardahan, which are provinces today, were districts of Kars in the 1950s. Kars is one of Turkey's richest provinces in terms of ethnic diversity. Unfortunately, this richness was mostly reflected negatively in politics.

There is an expression that has been used by the people of Iğdır for many years, which can be summarized as "O taylı, bu taylı" (that side, this side). "Tay" means side. If we talk about Iğdır, between 1829 and 1917, the Iğdır and Yerevan region was under Russian rule. In 1920, the Aras River became the border, and some Azerbaijanis remained on the Turkish side of the Aras (this side), while others remained on the Soviet Union side (that side).

Between 1920 and 1937, Azerbaijanis on the Soviet Union side crossed the Aras River and sought refuge in Turkey. For this reason, for many years, there was a distinction of "o taylı, bu taylı" among the Azerbaijanis living in Iğdır. I know you will ask what all this has to do with our subject. The Azerbaijanis referred to as "o taylı" supported the Democratic Party in 1950, while the "bu taylı" Azerbaijanis preferred to remain with the CHP. This situation was true not only for Iğdır but also for Kars in general.

The CHP won a full list in Kars in the 1950 elections. Soon after, Latif Aküzüm, Abbas Çetin, and Veyis Koçulu, who were elected as deputies from the CHP list, resigned from the CHP and joined the DP (18.03.1952).

The three deputies stated their reasons for resignation as follows: "The chief system still continues in this party (CHP), honest and upright citizens are being blacklisted and harassed, a sectarian and divisive mentality is adopted in the People's Party, and in the last Kars provincial congress, General Secretary Gülek himself, in cooperation with the criminals of the past and present, tried to revive the old mentality..."

To explain the situation better, I must provide the deputies' group and ethnic affiliations. Please do not consider this discrimination or sectarianism. The facts I will explain were openly experienced in the 1950s. There was no secret or hidden aspect.

1. Latif Aküzüm: Azerbaijani (born 1912 in Şöregel, Armenia)

2. Abbas Çetin: Azerbaijani (born 1914 in Yerevan, Armenia)

3. Veyis Koçulu: Karapapak (born 1891 in Tbilisi, Georgia)

Considering their birthplaces, we can see that all three deputies were "o taylı." In fact, Tezer Taşkıran, the daughter of Azerbaijani-born statesman Ahmet Ağaoğlu, also wanted to act with them because her brother Samet Ağaoğlu was elected as a DP deputy from Manisa. However, perhaps due to a sense of loyalty, as she had served as a CHP deputy from Kars a term earlier, she did not resign from the CHP, but Tezer Taşkıran broke away from the CHP in the 1954 elections and became a DP candidate.

This period also marked the politicization of sectarianism in the Kars region. Especially in the 1954 elections, the most respected name among the Kurds in Iğdır, Abdürrezak Güneş, was vetoed and removed from the DP list under pressure from Samet Ağaoğlu and the "o taylı" deputies. In 1957, Sırrı Atalay, the most important Kurdish figure in Kars politics, was slandered by DP members (Enver Sever) and tried in Iğdır, which was the last straw. The "o taylı" Azerbaijanis generally turned to the DP, while the "bu taylı" Azerbaijanis turned to the CHP. For example, Rıza Yalçın and Mehmet Hazer, who were "bu taylı," ran as candidates on the CHP list in the 1954 elections. Both were elected. (I would like to remind you that Rıza Yalçın's daughter was married to Cemalettin Bey, Abdürrezak Güneş's son.)

Between 1950 and 1960, there were three general elections: 1950, 1954, and 1957. In all three elections, the CHP gained the majority in Kars. The DP could not even elect a single deputy. Kars was a CHP stronghold. The DP implemented a new policy for Kars in every election but failed each time. For this reason, the three deputies who won from the CHP list in the 1950 elections and joined the DP in 1952 had some influence in Kars, even if they were not elected in later years. Soon, Kars succumbed to sectarian politics with the Abbas Çetin-Sırrı Atalay rivalry. In this political struggle, Abbas Çetin was one step ahead because his party (DP) was in power.

When the DP came to power, its most important goal was to hold the single-party era and the Misak-ı Milli supporters accountable. İnönü was its representative in the West, and Hüsnü Bingöl was its representative in the East. For this reason, the three "o taylı" deputies who resigned from the CHP and joined the DP implemented a special policy of pressure and intimidation on Hüsnü Bingöl. In those years, if the Democratic Party had the power, they could easily have sent İnönü and Hüsnü Bingöl to the gallows by fabricating a crime. Indeed, for this purpose, DP Tekirdağ Deputy Şevket Mocan fabricated the "Boraltan" lie and moved to prosecute İnönü, but when someone whispered in Şevket Mocan's ear, "Those handed over are not political refugees but war criminal prisoners. If you make too much noise, Turkey will have to pay war reparations," Mocan gave up his request for a parliamentary inquiry. In fact, the "Boraltan" lie continued to be used as political fodder in later years. Before the 1965 general elections, the Justice Party's publication, Adalet Gazetesi, brought this incident back to the agenda to put İnönü in a difficult position.

The resignation of the three deputies caused widespread reactions in both parties. Soon after, a group of deputies of Azerbaijani origin formed around Samet Ağaoğlu in the Democratic Party, which came to power. The bureaucracy in Kars and its districts was restructured. Iğdır, which was a district of Kars in those years, could not escape this change either. Pro-DP prosecutors, judges, district governors, and other state officials made moves to seize control of the district, but there was an obstacle in their way: Hüsnü Bingöl. Because he exerted the greatest pressure on "o taylı" citizens of Azerbaijani origin during his years of service and did not compromise on the principles of Misak-ı Milli, Hüsnü Bingöl soon became the target of Samet Ağaoğlu and his friends. They began to look for an opportunity to corner Hüsnü Bingöl. One day, that opportunity arose on its own.

Mecit Hun describes Hüsnü Bingöl's situation in his memoirs as follows:

"Hüsnü Bingöl continued his duty until the multi-party era. During this period, since his powers other than intelligence gathering were abolished, the circle of sycophants around Hüsnü Bey also dispersed. He had retired from the military and was going out in civilian clothes instead of uniform. There were no longer people greeting him out of fear or a sycophantic crowd as before. Although he had retired from the military, it was reported that he was walking around in official uniform, and he was brought in by the police at the prosecutor's request, his statement was taken, and he was released after being reminded that this was an act that would result in punishment. This incident immediately spread among the people. It meant that Hüsnü Bey could be detained by the police, and the prosecutor could take his statement. Hüsnü Bey now preferred side streets instead of passing through the tradesmen and coming to the municipal park as before.

When he retired from his main duty, he had completely collapsed, and there was no one left around him except a few close relatives. Thus, an era, the Hüsnü Bey Era, had closed.

No one has ever accused Hüsnü Bey, who was equipped with such vital powers and held people's destinies in his hands, of corruption or abuse during his quarter-century tenure, after his retirement, or even after his death. He is one of the rare people who held such important and critical positions and remained untainted. He died in Iğdır. He was buried in the military cemetery. May God have mercy on him."

HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL'S SORROW

Hüsnü Bingöl started smoking out of grief after losing his wife, Münevver Hanım, in 1947. He was left alone with his two daughters, Müjgan and Şükran. He assigned a woman, whom the children called "Aunt Erzincanlı," to take care of the housework. Aunt Erzincanlı passed away in 1953. His political rivals did not stand idly by and tried to limit his authority. In the summer of 1953, although Hüsnü Bingöl had retired from the military, he went out wearing a Major's uniform. His political enemies filed a criminal complaint with the prosecutor's office, and an investigation was launched against him. Realizing that his charisma and influence were gone, Hüsnü Bingöl fell into deep sorrow. The person who protected the country from a great disaster was being reduced to an ordinary civil servant. He sought solace in cigarettes. Every day, he increased the number of cigarettes he smoked. In the autumn of 1954, he suffered a heart attack. Thereupon, MAH (MIT) sent an assistant to Iğdır. Hüsnü Bingöl retired in May 1954. He passed away on the morning of February 6, 1955.

In the years following Hüsnü Bingöl's death, those who hated his name and legacy used their power to remove all reports, documents, and files related to Hüsnü Bingöl from the archives. By 2000, Hüsnü Bingöl was no longer in the state archives. It was as if such a person had never lived. When I mingled with the public for my book research, I witnessed that the name Hüsnü Bingöl lived on in the memory and hearts of the people. With my book "Iğdır Sevdası" (Love of Iğdır), published in 2002, Hüsnü Bingöl regained his honorable place in history.

PART 2

HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL'S DAUGHTER ŞÜKRAN BİNGÖL NARRATES:

"My father, Hüsnü Bingöl, was 1.90 meters tall and had a large build. He had no belly. He stood upright and walked with a confident demeanor.

I was an elementary school student. Due to my father's sensitive duty, I would go to and from school every day accompanied by a soldier. One day, after school was dismissed, I went outside and waited for the soldier who would take me home. A general and a colonel were chatting a little further away. A military policeman ran up, gave a sharp salute to the general, and said, 'Commander, my civilian major, tell them to wait for me!' When the general turned to the colonel next to him and asked, 'Who is this civilian major?' the colonel simply replied, 'Hüsnü Bingöl.' When I heard my father's name, I approached them even closer.

My father appeared in the distance. He was walking with upright and measured steps. When the general saw my father, he said, 'It's clear who he is from his walk! We've aged, but he's still a young man!' It turned out that the general and my father were classmates from the Military Academy!

The colonel said, 'I also admire his walk, sir!' When my father approached, they embraced with longing. The general said, 'Hüsnü Bey, if I were a girl, I would fall in love with you. You get more handsome as you age.'

My father usually dressed in civilian clothes. Occasionally, when he visited border battalions, he would reluctantly put on his major's uniform. He was extremely fond of his clothing and appearance. He had special tongs to curl his mustache and give his hair a wavy pattern.

MY ELEMENTARY SCHOOL YEARS

I was taller than my classmates. Hidayet, number 350 – my number was 351 – would follow me during breaks and tease me, saying, 'You're lying, you failed a grade! That's why you're tall.'

One name I haven't forgotten from my elementary school years was Turgut Sungar, Major Bekir Bey's son. He was older than me. When he was in fifth grade, I had just started school.

My father would buy me beautiful balls. I would take them to school with me. During breaks, Turgut would somehow get hold of my balls and kick them around. My delicate balls couldn't withstand violent kicks and would tear.

For a long time, I didn't say anything to anyone out of fear. Every day, I would go to school with a whole ball under my arm and return with a torn one in the evening.

I couldn't take it anymore, and crying, I went to my father's study and said, 'Father, Turgut abi is bursting my balls! I don't want to go to school.' My father smiled and said, 'Oh really! I'll give him an earful tomorrow.'

My father must have warned Turgut, because he left me alone. One day, he came up to me and threatened, 'You complained to your father! Should I tear your ball?' I pleaded, 'Please, Turgut abi, don't burst my ball.' He must have pitied me, because he never approached me again.

It was when I first started elementary school. A soldier would take me to and from school. It was an autumn day. The weather was rainy and cold. The soldier who took me to school that morning had been discharged and returned to his hometown.

We children couldn't understand why the familiar soldier uncles suddenly disappeared and would cry after them. For this reason, my father had forbidden the soldiers from saying 'goodbye' to us. When asked, we would be told, 'The soldier uncle will be back in a few days!'

That day, another soldier had been assigned to pick me up from school. The soldier, who didn't take his job seriously, returned home when he couldn't find me at school (!).

After school was dismissed, I went outside as usual and waited in front of the garden gate. No one came or went. It was raining, so I started walking home slowly without waiting. When I reached the mosque on Doğubayazıt Street, I paused. There was always a coffin in the mosque's garden. I was very afraid of this coffin. There was no other way for me to go home.

I took shelter in the corner of a house and started waiting in fear. When my father realized I hadn't returned home, he called the soldier and asked. When he received the answer, 'I went but no one was there!', he went out into the street in a panic with Eşref Kaya.

I was huddled against the wall, trying to protect myself from the rain. When I saw my father coming, I ran towards him with joy. I hugged my father and said, 'Father, do you know, a wolf almost ate me!' My father said, 'Oh dear! Really!' and hugged me.

'Yes, and a wolf as big as me, with red ears and blue eyes!' I said. My father said to Eşref Kaya, 'Did you hear that, brother! A wolf almost ate our daughter.' Seeing that my father was showing interest (!), I continued to exaggerate my lie.

At home, my father said to my mother, 'Münevver, it's a good thing I went. Otherwise, a wolf with red ears would have eaten my daughter.' My mother came up to me and said, 'Be quiet, you rude girl! What would a wolf be doing in the city... If you lie like this, no one will believe you when you grow up.' My mother couldn't contain her anger and turned to my father, angrily saying, 'You're teaching this girl to lie! God knows what else she'll bring upon us later!' Eşref Kaya intervened and tried to calm my mother. From that day on, I never found the courage to lie again.

ZİNNET HANIM (KAKİOĞLU)

Zinnet Hanım, the wife of Bitlisli Mehmet (Kakioğlu), helped us a lot. Zinnet Hanım, originally from Hınıs, and my mother's family knew each other well.

When Zinnet Hanım got married, my father was serving as a Captain in Hınıs. He was among those invited to the wedding. My father would always laugh when he told this interesting incident that happened to him that day:

"My lieutenant friend, in civilian clothes, and I went to the wedding. They honored us and seated us at the head table. My lieutenant friend had a suit made for the wedding. He was proudly adjusting his new clothes, attracting the attention of everyone coming and going.

At mealtime, Bitlis meatballs were served to us. My lieutenant friend was unaware of how dangerous meatballs filled with melted fat could be if bitten carelessly. He eagerly reached for one of the dry meatballs (!). He bit it hard with peace of mind. The fat trapped inside the meatball sprayed out like a fountain onto my lieutenant friend. His brand new suit was riddled with grease stains. He leaned into my ear and said, 'I ruined my clothes because of you.' We looked at each other and smiled."

Mehmet Efendi was a brave and trustworthy man, but everyone knew about his womanizing. Whenever he got money, he would go on a long journey and disappear. On such days, my father would send a soldier to Zinnet Hanım to try and provide for the household's needs.

In those years, when evening came, people would go into their homes and tightly close the doors behind them. The household, gathered in a room by the light of a lamp or candle, would worry that a stranger might force their way in and harm them; they would eat their meals and go to sleep. This situation became even more critical for women who did not have a man in the house. Zinnet Hanım was one of those who could not get used to this situation.

After my father's death, Zinnet Hanım helped us a lot. Zinnet Hanım did not want the two young girls to be alone at home, so she stayed with us. Even years later, we have not forgotten the closeness and loyalty Zinnet Hanım showed until we left Iğdır.

MY MOTHER'S DEATH

My mother died young (around 35 years old) from pneumonia in 1947. Since there was no space left in the cemetery adjacent to the Officers' Club on the road to Melekli, my father bought a grave plot from the neighboring garden, and we buried my mother there.

I had just finished elementary school when my mother passed away. The painful event deeply shook all of us and turned our family life upside down. For this reason, I did not have the chance to continue middle school. (I finished middle school externally in later years.)

My father never considered a second marriage. He protected us like a mother.

Various diseases appeared in Iğdır. Among them, "malaria" was a major threat in itself. To protect us from malaria, in the summer months, my father would cover our hands and faces and place us in mosquito nets where there were no mosquitoes. His greatest fear was that his daughters would contract a dangerous disease and that he would not be able to give them the necessary care and attention.

My father had his first heart attack in the autumn of 1954 – six months before his death. The doctors, following my father's advice, kept his illness from us. But my instincts told me that my father had a serious illness. When I opened and read the drug leaflets, they all had notes about the heart. One day I asked my father:

"Father, tell me the truth, do you have a heart condition?"

"No, my daughter! Where did you get that idea?"

"The drug leaflets have a note about 'heart condition'..."

"My dear daughter, heart medicine is not only given to heart patients... Sometimes it is used in the treatment of colds."

With these words, my father skillfully managed to hide his illness from us. Every night, I would secretly go into my father's room and listen to his breathing. My father, perhaps out of habit from his military days, would sleep lightly. At the slightest noise, he would open his eyes and look around. One day he caught me:

"My daughter, what are you doing?" he asked.

Out of shame, I screamed "Mother!" and ran out of the room.

My father stayed in bed for two or three weeks. One of those who never left my father's bedside was Mehmet Efendi from Bitlis. We spent the first three critical nights keeping vigil with my father until morning. Mehmet Efendi had given my father moral support and helped him recover quickly.

My father slowly recovered from the first crisis. He could now go for his beloved walks in the market and return home peaceful and happy. Following the doctors' advice, he retired from his position as National Security Inspector.

My father rarely fell ill; he had no complaints other than a minor rheumatic pain from his war years.

During World War I, while rushing from one front to another, he sometimes had to lie down and get up in wet and swampy areas for days.

Once a year, he would suffer from rheumatic pains, which he described as "like a needle pricking" somewhere in his body. Once, he also caught severe pneumonia:

A British delegation had come to Iğdır. My father accompanied the delegation, inspected the border areas, went to Mount Ağrı by motorcycle, and from there to the Aras River, where he bathed. Because they traveled against the cool wind in the evening, my father caught a severe cold. He lay in bed with a fever for days.

MY FATHER'S DEATH

The Democratic Party's (DP) district congress, expected to be held on Sunday, was predicted to be very contentious, even violent. For this reason, the party's leading figures came to my father and said, "Uncle Bey, if you are at the congress, there will be no fight!" My father, not wanting to disappoint them, promised, "Okay, I'll come."

It was Saturday evening. Müjgan's tonsils were inflamed. My father would fuss over us at the slightest discomfort, put us to bed, and wait by our side. He had an excessive love for Müjgan.

Müjgan's throat was irritated from eating sour pomegranates. When blood appeared in her sputum during one of her coughing fits, my father panicked. Suspecting that Müjgan might have contracted tuberculosis, the most feared disease of those years, my father sent the duty soldier to bring Dr. Necdet Koçak.

(Dr. Necdet Koçak was a young doctor who served his reserve officer duty in Iğdır and Doğubayazıt. In later years, Dr. Necdet Koçak became a professor and, at one point, the dean of Çapa Medical Faculty.)

Since a fight between two tribes in Tuzluca had resulted in death, Dr. Necdet Koçak, in his capacity as a government doctor, had to go to Tuzluca with the prosecutor.

Dr. Necdet's wife had sent the soldier who came to the house back, saying, "The doctor is in Tuzluca. I don't know when he will return!" My father, deeply concerned about Müjgan's health, sent the empty-handed soldier back, saying, "Go wait at the door! No matter what time he comes, bring him immediately. If he asks who is sick, answer 'my commander'."

Dr. Necdet Koçak arrived home around three in the morning. The soldier waiting at the door said, "The commander is sick. He wants you to come home urgently." Dr. Necdet didn't believe this: "It must be one of the girls, not the commander, who is sick. Hüsnü Bey is such a gentle person that he wouldn't bother a doctor in the middle of the night even if he were on his deathbed. But he would do it for his daughters!" he replied.

My father met the doctor at the door. The doctor asked:

"Müjgan is sick, isn't she?"

"Forgive me for giving you wrong information. You will also be a father soon. Then you will understand me."

The doctor checked Müjgan and said, "There's nothing to worry about! One of the capillaries in her throat has burst," and my father relaxed. The doctor suddenly turned his face to my father. My father's color was not good at all. He laid him on the bed and measured his blood pressure and body temperature. The doctor's face suddenly tensed with worry:

"I don't see you well. Absolutely do not go out tomorrow (Sunday)!"

"I have to. I promised my friends to attend the DP congress."

"Absolutely not! I will lie down in front of the door; I will not let you go out without stepping over me," he said. After giving my father a few injections, the doctor left the house.

Since Müjgan was sick, my uncle Muhittin's wife had come to stay with us to take care of her. My cousin Fikri, who couldn't get along with his stepmother, was also staying with us.

My father would wake up early. That Sunday morning, he woke up early, had his breakfast, and then told my uncle's wife, "My dear, I need to leave the house at 9 o'clock for an important matter. If I fall asleep, wake me up." Then he took his newspaper and lay down on the sofa.

Around 9 o'clock, I got out of bed. I was in my nightgown. My aunt, engrossed in work in the kitchen, seemed to have forgotten my father's instruction. I approached my father to wake him up. He was lying quietly, a pair of glasses in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"Father, it's five to nine! Wake up!" I said. My father didn't make a sound. I felt strange. I went to my brother Fikri, who was sitting in a chair. My tongue was tied. I kept pulling his arm without saying anything.

When he asked, "What's wrong?" I pointed to my father. Fikri abi approached my father and said, "I think he's dead!" I ran towards Müjgan's bed. At that moment, my tongue loosened:

"Müjgan, something happened to father!" Müjgan jumped out of her sickbed and ran, hugging my father tightly. Since my father was still alive, he hugged Müjgan back with all his strength. Panicked by this scene, I ran to the street. I came face to face with Dr. Necdet Koçak at the door. The doctor had come home early so that my father wouldn't go out. "Doctor, hurry! My father is dying!" I said.

The doctor gave my father an injection in his chest. But despite all efforts, he could not save my father. My father passed away on Sunday, February 6, 1955, at 5 past 9, at the age of 63.

We wanted to take my father's body to the family cemetery in Ağrı, but at the insistence of our friends from Iğdır, we buried him in the Military Cemetery on the Melekli road. When he got engaged, his father-in-law had given my father a beautiful wristwatch as a gift. The night before, he had taken the watch in his hand and said, "This watch has worked perfectly for years," and wound its spring mechanism. When my father passed away, strangely, the watch, which had never failed for years, stopped at 5 past 9!

My father served as an officer in the army for 20 years, then retired voluntarily as a Cavalry Major in 1931. Starting from 1932 until the autumn of 1954, when he had his first heart attack, he served as the Iğdır National Security Inspector for 23 years.

Six months after my father's death, my sister and I were left alone in Iğdır. Unable to bear it, we had to leave Iğdır, wanting to be close to our uncle and aunts in Istanbul.

MY UNCLE ENİS'S DEATH

Enis, my grandfather Şamil's son, was married to my aunt. We called him "Uncle Enis" within the family. He and my father – first cousins – had fought on the Tripoli front. During an attack, when Uncle Enis was wounded, my father put him on a horse, carried him through the line of fire to the rear, and saved his life.

One day, when Uncle Enis was a Lieutenant Colonel, he went on an exercise in the district of Keskin. In the evening, after playing a few games of backgammon with his friends, he retired to his tent to rest. He called out to the doctor passing by his tent and said, "Doctor, I have a headache!" The doctor took a few aspirins from his bag and handed them to Uncle Enis.

In the morning, all the units were ready, waiting for Uncle Enis. An officer, curious as to why the Lieutenant Colonel hadn't arrived, rushed to the tent, and when he opened the door, he found Uncle Enis's dead body.

The autopsy revealed that Uncle Enis, like my father, had died of a heart attack. The aspirin given by the doctor got stuck in his throat before reaching his stomach, and he died that way.

MY FATHER'S DAILY LIFE

He would wake up early. His greatest pleasure was having breakfast in bed, on a tray. After taking his shower, he would go out, tour the town center, then stop by the coffeehouse in the Municipal Garden, drink tea and coffee with his friends from the public, and then head home. He would retreat to his study until 1 o'clock, working with a serious and disciplined rhythm. At lunchtime, he would leave his room and take his place at the family table.

He was not picky about food. He would eat all kinds of food placed before him with pleasure. If there was a problem with the quality of the food, he would not make a sound, but would get up from the table saying, "Enjoy your meal, children!" If we asked, "Father, didn't you like the food?" my father would brush it off by saying, "I don't have an appetite!"

After eating, he would retreat to a corner to read his newspaper, then go back to his room and continue his work from where he left off. Around 5 o'clock, he would take a cold shower and go out. After strolling around the town center, he would return, and after a short chat, he would retreat to his study and work continuously until 1 o'clock at night.

He didn't eat dinner in the evenings. He would snack on light appetizers with a glass of raki and continue working. He was a heavy smoker. He consumed close to three packs a day.

Some days he would study Russian. He spoke Russian well, but he would study a few days a week to improve his pronunciation and grammar. He would read us Russian stories. Even if we didn't understand, we would listen carefully. He would translate what he read into Turkish, drawing our attention.

My father knew a little English, German, and French. He also understood and could speak enough Kurdish for daily conversations. I found my father's Kurdish speaking very strange. Every other word would definitely be Turkish.

As a child, I was clever. One day, I asked my father, "Father, is there a word 'Efendim' (Sir/Madam) in Kurdish?" My father hesitated, "I don't know," he said, "why do you ask?"

"Because you always say 'Efendim' when you speak Kurdish..."

My paternal grandmother was Kurdish. But my father grew up away from his family. He learned Kurdish in Ağrı, where he was stationed for duty.

LOVE FOR CHILDREN

My father was fond of children. He took special pleasure in talking to them as if they were adults.

We lived in a Russian-built house belonging to Arap Hüseyin, directly opposite Sheikh Xano's house on Doğubayazıt Street. (This building later became the post office.)

The window of my father's study overlooked the street. He would occasionally glance at what was happening outside and then continue his work.

One day, the neighborhood children were playing in the street. They were running around, shouting and screaming. My father poked his head out the window and said to a child who was sweating profusely:

"My child, you're sweating too much! You'll get sick! Go tell your mother to put a sweat cloth on your back!" The child, not understanding what my father said, continued to play.

Hearing this conversation, I went to my father and, laughing, said, "Father, they don't understand what a sweat cloth is!"

AUNT ERZİNCANLI

Due to my mother's early death, my father had to hire a cook. After a long search, he hired a woman we knew by the nickname "Aunt Erzincanlı" as a cook.

Aunt Erzincanlı was the daughter of a wealthy family. Six months after she got married, her husband went to war and never returned. She lived with her mother-in-law and her son. When her son turned 12, he was circumcised but died from blood loss. The bride and mother-in-law suffered poverty for a long time, selling their belongings and barely making ends meet. When her mother-in-law died in the Erzincan earthquake (December 1939), Aunt Erzincanlı was left alone and worked as a cook in the governor's mansion.

Aunt Erzincanlı had a brother-in-law who was a baker in Iğdır and a nephew named Ekber. Ekber, who was married to an Iğdır woman whom the neighborhood disliked, brought his aunt to his home in Iğdır when he learned that she was alone in Erzincan. But his wife did not give Aunt Erzincanlı any peace. Friends who knew my father was looking for a cook brought Aunt Erzincanlı to our house.

We loved each other at first sight. Aunt Erzincanlı stayed with us until her death from pneumonia in 1953.

LOVE OF FRIENDSHIP

Corps Commander Fahri Belen – my uncle's brother-in-law – had come to Doğubayazıt for an inspection. He was determined to visit my father and catch up with his classmate. He sent a telegram with the message, "We'll be at your place tomorrow!"

The Pasha was coming with his entourage of 30 people. It was not expected that Aunt Erzincanlı would host so many guests alone. When my father explained the situation to Aunt Erzincanlı, she confidently said, "Don't worry at all! We'll just need a good waiter."

The next day, Aunt Erzincanlı began working feverishly. Soldiers helping with chores were slaughtering chickens in the garden, chopping potatoes and onions. By evening, everything from Circassian chicken to soups and various desserts was ready.

The guests were extremely pleased with the meal. The Pasha's entourage asked for permission and went to the Officers' Club. The Pasha and my father fell into a nostalgic conversation about their school and war years. It was approaching midnight. The hungry Pasha, at one point, asked my father, "Is there any Circassian chicken left?"

My father went into the room, woke up Aunt Erzincanlı, and explained the situation. Aunt Erzincanlı, sleepy, said, "Don't worry at all! It will be ready in half an hour!" In the middle of the night, a chicken was slaughtered, plucked, boiled, and Circassian chicken was prepared and placed before the Pasha.

The next day, as the Pasha was saying goodbye, he specifically asked to see Aunt Erzincanlı. He kissed her hand and said, "Your food was delicious!" He put a generous amount of pocket money in her pocket and set off. Aunt Erzincanlı was affected by the Pasha's behavior, surprised and happy, she watched him leave.

One of Fahri Belen's sisters was Kars Deputy Hüsamettin Tuğaç, and another sister was married to my uncle. (Hüsamettin Tuğaç and my grandfathers grew up in the same town and neighborhood in the Caucasus.)

AUNT ERZİNCANLI'S DEATH

When Aunt Erzincanlı contracted pneumonia, she said to my father, "I'm going to die! At least let me die in my nephew's (Ekber) house, so no one says, 'Your aunt died at someone else's door.'" My father respected the last wish of this loyal and kind-hearted woman and sent her to Ekber.

A few days later, we learned that Aunt Erzincanlı had passed away. Aunt Erzincanlı's belongings were in our house. She had no heirs other than Ekber and Ekber's sister living in Ağrı. My father gathered the heirs, the district governor, the headman, and a few notable people from the community at home.

"How will we divide the belongings between the two siblings?" he asked. When no one answered, my father said,

"I will randomly dip my hand into the chest. One for this sibling, one for that sibling, do you agree?" When the crowd responded with "Yes!", my father began to distribute the inheritance.

Ekber showed himself to be a young man with noble feelings and who valued spirituality. After taking a silver bowl as a souvenir from his share of the belongings, he handed the rest to his sister:

"Sister, only you know the value of these. If my wife gets her hands on them, my late aunt's bones will ache."

We all experienced an emotional moment that day.

HAMZA KARABAĞLI

One day, my father went to Doğubayazıt on duty. He wanted to see the defendants caught at the border and condemned to death. All preparations for the execution had been made, and the hogtie was hanging on the gallows.

When my father entered the room, he saw four Caucasians: Hamza Karabağlı, Imam, Kurban, and Kıyas. He immediately had his close friends released.

Imam and Kurban founded Kars's largest kashar cheese factory (Kars Vazot) and became very wealthy.

MEHMET BEYAZIT

(Mehmet Beyazıt, originally from Doğubayazıt, is a businessman and the father of Selahattin Beyazıt, former president of GS.)

When Mehmet Beyazıt was exiled (1926), he stayed as a guest in our house in Ağrı for a few days. He had a saddlebag full of gold with him. Appreciating my father's help and friendship, he would send packages full of sugar and chocolate from Istanbul every year.

ABDÜRREZAK GÜNEŞ

My father valued honesty and good character in people. His heart was equally open to everyone who possessed these qualities. He never judged anyone based on their race, appearance, or money.

One day, my father and Abdürrezak Bey (Güneş) were sitting in the coffeehouse in the Municipal Garden. A young man working as a lawyer was passing by. My father invited the young man he liked:

"My child, come have some tea!"

As soon as the young man sat down, Abdürrezak Bey, with a displeased expression, excused himself and left.

My father walked home with the young man.

After dinner, my father took his newspaper and began to read. At these hours, Müjgan and I would sit as quietly as possible, being careful not to disturb my father. Durak abi would also retreat to a corner and sit respectfully.

Durak abi said to my father,

"Uncle Bey, Abdürrezak Bey is very angry with you." My father, curious, lifted his head from the newspaper and said, "Why?" Durak abi replied,

"Today you invited a young man named Vahap (Akar) to your table for tea. Abdürrezak Bey says, 'Who is he to sit at Hüsnü Bey's table?'"

My father, with a forced smile, replied, "What do you mean, who is he! What superiority do I have over him? He also spent nine months in his mother's womb, and so did I..."

The next day, Durak abi conveyed my father's words exactly to Abdürrezak Bey. Abdürrezak Bey, after a long thought, shook his head and said, "This is what makes Hüsnü Bey Hüsnü Bey!"

DURAK ABİ (ELBRUZ)

Two soldiers worked in our house. One stood guard outside, near my father's study; the other was ready inside the house or in the garden. His duty was to look after us children, play with us in the garden, and take us to and from school when necessary. Durak abi was one of the soldiers who was closely involved with our family.

Durak abi was originally from Horasan district of Erzurum. He had a unique quiet demeanor and a trustworthy personality. He spent most of his time with Müjgan.

Müjgan was a frail and sensitive girl. My father doted on Müjgan and would do anything for her.

Since my mother passed away at an early age, my father never took his eyes off us. On bath days, he would personally put us to bed and carefully cover us. I was an active and energetic girl. I would escape my father's excessive affection and play in the garden. When Müjgan still fell ill despite all the care, my father would say, "I don't understand! I protect this girl like a precious doll, and she still gets sick, while the other one runs around in the garden all day and doesn't get sick."

Müjgan and Durak abi would play together all day, fight, and then sulk. In the evenings, Müjgan would play cards with Durak abi, and when she won (!), she would press Durak abi, "I won, give me my money!" When Durak abi said, "Okay. Let it be a debt on me, I'll pay later," Müjgan would cry and go to my father,

She would complain, "Durak abi isn't giving me my money!" My father would lift his head from the newspaper and intervene with a serious (!) tone,

"Give my daughter her money!"

One day, Durak abi teased Müjgan, "Come, I'll take you to our village. If you eat barley bread, you'll get so fat..." Müjgan believed what he said, "Father, give me permission, Uncle Durak will take me to his village and give me barley bread." My father frowned and objected, "My daughter, you can't eat barley bread!" Müjgan insisted stubbornly, "I swear I will!" she said.

When the insistence on barley bread continued every evening, my father brought home some barley bread one day. Müjgan took the bread in her hand, turned it over, smelled it, and when she didn't like it, she pouted and went to Durak abi: "I won't eat this bread!" she said. Durak abi tried to save the situation by saying, "Our barley bread is more delicious!"

Durak Abi didn't sit idle; he would tease Müjgan at every opportunity. Even if Müjgan was sitting quietly on the sofa, Durak abi would say, "Girl, why are you sitting like a 'five past' Kurd!"

Müjgan also didn't sit idle; she would jump on Durak abi's back while he was praying and pull him left and right.

As Durak abi's discharge approached, Müjgan became sad. She cried every day, pleading with my father, "Let Uncle Durak stay with us!" My father, not wanting to see Müjgan sad, one day called Durak abi to his presence:

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a poor villager, I have nothing!"

"Who is waiting for you?"

"Only my wife."

"Children?"

"No, I don't have children!"

"Do you want to stay in Iğdır?"

"How would I make a living here?"

"Don't worry! I'll help you."

My father bought Durak abi a house with settlement rights in Aralık. He provided capital and helped him get into the business of buying and selling oil and cheese. A year before my father's death, he had transferred the title deed of our 5-decare vineyard in Aralık to Durak abi.

The day we left Iğdır, Durak abi cried a lot. We never had the chance to see him again. We learned that he passed away in Iğdır. One of his sons became a teacher, and another became a judge.

OUR SURNAME

There are three different surnames in the family tree: Bingöl, Gökçe, and Atalay. All three are derived from lake, mountain, or river names in the Caucasus. For example, my grandfather Şamil's family took the surname "Gökçe" because there was a river named Gökçay. I don't know exactly which name "Bingöl" refers to, but we are sure it is of Caucasian origin.

MY FATHER'S LOVE FOR DOGS

My father loved animals. Especially his love for dogs was known to everyone. We had exactly five dogs. Their names were Boncuk, Fidel, Poker, Fot, and Joli.

"Fot" was a trained German Shepherd. We called him "Count." On holidays, during parades, "Fot" would sit next to my father and watch the soldiers marching in step down the street with a serious expression. When the soldiers saluted by turning, "Fot" would respond by nodding his head slightly.

"Joli" was a sweet and tiny poodle. Her story goes like this: Hamiyet Yüceses or Safiye Ayla had come to visit Iğdır. My father welcomed the famous singer, showed her the necessary attention, and invited her to dinner in the evening. During dinner, his eyes fell on the dog next to the artist. When he said, "Oh, what a beautiful dog!" the artist gifted the dog (Joli) to my father.

"Joli" never left my father's side, and even accompanied him when he went out. The dog everyone saw with my father during his walks was this "Joli." The loyal "Joli" had saved my father's life several times.

ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS ON MY FATHER

The Russians had assigned a team to assassinate my father. One day, my father was coming home from the market with "Joli" and a soldier guard. When he approached the mosque on Doğubayazıt Street, Joli barked and ran towards the small house on the corner at the crossroads. Then she ran back and clung to my father's trousers, preventing him from walking as if to say, "Please don't go!" My father sent his guard to a secluded corner and said, "Go see what's there!" The assassins fled before they had a chance to carry out their plan.

About two weeks had passed since the incident. A telegram arrived from the Van police department. According to it, a group that had recently crossed from Russia had been assigned to kill my father. The same letter had been sent to the Iğdır district governorship, but they had not informed my father.

It was a moonlit night. We turned off the lights and opened the curtains. My father, his two daughters, and I were having a pleasant conversation in the study. On the roof of the house opposite, someone was scanning our house with a flashlight. When my father said, "No one move!" we understood the seriousness of the situation. When the flashlight moved to the next room, I quickly ran to the window and pulled the curtain. My father went outside to inform his guards. Gunshots filled the neighborhood. The assassins had managed to escape.

One day, my father was sitting in front of the coffeehouse, chatting with a group of friends, including Mehmet Efendi from Bitlis. A friend at the table looked up and shouted, "He's here! He's here!" My father pulled back and lifted his head. At that moment, a huge piece of tile grazed my father's head and fell onto his knees. It bounced a meter, hit his knee, and shattered. If he hadn't lifted his head, the tile would have hit him on the head!

We were worried when my father was late coming home. When he was late, he would always send word home to inform us. It was approaching midnight. When a phaeton stopped in front of our house, the street filled with noise and conversations. The first thing that came to my mind was, "Did something happen to my father?" When I went outside and saw my father, unable to walk, in the arms of his friends, I screamed. There were no fractures in his knees, but his legs were swollen. He had to walk with a cane for two or three weeks.

The last assassination attempt again occurred on Doğubayazıt Street, on his way home. "Joli" had saved my father's life for the second time. The attackers, who had taken cover in a corner, hesitated at the dog's barking and argued about whether to kill him or not. They left and fled when the guards approached.

Van security forces caught the assassination group as they entered Turkey from Iran and interrogated them, and they confessed everything.

My father was constantly under threat and danger. This stress worsened his heart condition. Yet, he needed comfort and peace so much...

"TWO GIRLS AND A DOG, IS THAT ALL?"

When my father was a Lieutenant, he had a short assignment in Doğubayazıt; once, he had helped a villager. The villager had not forgotten the help even years later; when he learned that my father was in Iğdır, he threw a beautiful rug over his back and headed to our house.

My father would sleep for a few hours in the afternoons. The villager told the duty soldier, "I want to see Hüsnü Bey." The soldier said, "He's sleeping now. Come back in a few hours!" The villager leaned against the wall and waited.

It was towards evening. My father had woken up, and we were all getting ready for a walk. We went out as a family. The duty soldier remembered the villager he had forgotten, called him over, and said, "Here goes Hüsnü Bingöl." The following conversation took place between them:

"What are these two girls to him?"

"Hüsnü Bey's daughters."

"Doesn't he have a son?"

"No!"

"Where is his wife?"

"Hüsnü Bey's wife has passed away. He is single."

The villager, disappointed, raised his hand in the air and said, "Oh! Is this the Hüsnü Bey they talk about? Two girls and a dog! Such a man should have at least three wives and seven sons!"

On the way back from the walk, the duty soldier said, "Commander, I want to tell you something, but..."

When the soldier hesitated, my father said, "Tell me, my son, don't be afraid!" The soldier said, "Commander, a villager came and wanted to see you. He was very sad when he learned that you only have two daughters."

In the evening, the villager came again. My father invited him into the house. Despite his insistence, he did not accept the rug he had brought as a gift. My father, smiling, asked, "Is it true that you said such things about me?"

"Of course. You are a brave man. Seven or eight sons would suit you..."

"We are seven brothers. But when my father and mother died, we couldn't even be present at their funerals. I wouldn't trade my two daughters for seven, or even seventeen sons!"

MY UNCLE CEMAL

My uncle Cemal was a doctor. He had worked in western provinces for many years, away from his family. One day, he came to Iğdır with a sudden decision.

It was late afternoon. The guard at the door stopped my uncle and did not let him in.

"Tell the people inside, 'Hüsnü Bey's brother-in-law has arrived!'"

My uncle Cemal, seeing that the soldier had difficulty pronouncing the word 'brother-in-law,' said, "Tell them the children's uncle has arrived!" My grandmother was visiting us. She opened the door. The guard said, "The commander's uncle has arrived, should I let him in?"

The Kurdish tribes in the region called my father 'uncle'. They would often come to the house and say, "We want to talk to Uncle Hüsnü." When my grandmother conveyed the news of 'an uncle's arrival' to my father in his study, my father lifted his head from the table and said, "Mother, it must be a relative from our villages again. Tell him to come tomorrow at 10 o'clock."

The guard went to my uncle Cemal and said, "Come tomorrow! He doesn't want to see you tonight." When my uncle Cemal realized he had made a mistake,

He said, "Go tell them the children's uncle, Doctor Cemal Güner, has arrived!" When the soldier at the door said, "Doctor Cemal," we children jumped out of our beds and excitedly ran to the door. My grandmother was so happy with the news of her son's arrival, whom she hadn't seen for years, that she went to the study and told my father, "Congratulations! The children's uncle, Doctor Cemal, has arrived!"

This was the last time we saw my uncle Cemal. After returning to Istanbul, he was diagnosed with cancer. He received treatment in Switzerland. He passed away during the days he was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel.

MY FATHER'S PASSION FOR CIGARETTES

My father was a heavy smoker. He could easily smoke three packs a day. After his first heart attack, when smoking was forbidden, he struggled greatly. It was not easy to get used to the new situation. Even though he wasn't smoking, he would put a pack of cigarettes in his pocket and walk around with his hand on it.

When my father's friends advised him, "At least put a pipe in your mouth, inhale the smell of wet tobacco, maybe it will ease your suffering a little," my father developed an interest in pipes. The house was filled with accessories such as special lighters, tongs, and tobacco humidifiers.

AN UNNAMED HERO

There was Emin Pasha from Çankırı. A statement he made about my father in an assembly, I think, describes my father very well:

"He was an unnamed hero!"

PART 3

NEWS OF HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL'S DEATH

PAMUKOVA NEWSPAPER OWNER: MECİT HUN (FEBRUARY 7, 1955)

HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL PASSED AWAY (WRITTEN BY: MECİT HUN)

The funeral of the former National Security Inspector was buried in the modern cemetery with a magnificent ceremony. Retired Major and former National Security Inspector Hüsnü Bingöl passed away yesterday from heart and liver disease that had been ongoing for a long time.

The death of Hüsnü Bingöl, who successfully performed his quarter-century long and honorable duty as National Security Inspector with competence, impartiality, knowledge, meticulousness, and honesty, has been a national loss.

Hüsnü Bingöl, who never deviated from justice due to the importance of his duty and knew how to be a symbol of honor and honesty in state service, managed the most secret intelligence affairs of the government in all eastern provinces and was a valuable security officer who distinguished himself with his competence in his duty even in neighboring countries.

Bingöl, who succeeded in overturning the intelligence services of imperialist and Red Russia and performing an honorable and national service to the homeland in our most important strategic regions, also belonged to a distinguished family that trained valuable and powerful personnel for the Turkish army.

The news of his death spread in a short time in the provinces of Karaköse (Ağrı), Erzurum, and Kars, and his body was buried in the Military Cemetery with a magnificent funeral ceremony attended by delegations from neighboring districts and provinces.

We wish him God's mercy and extend our condolences to our National Security organization and the Bingöl family.

PAMUKOVA NEWSPAPER OWNER: MECİT HUN (FEBRUARY 7, 1955)

WRITTEN BY: HASAN KARALAR

Yesterday (February 6, 1955) at around 9:30 AM, a dark news spread in Iğdır. This dark news soon reached Ağrı and Kağızman. Our uncle Hüsnü Bingöl, a retired Major and National Security Inspector who dedicated 25 years of his life to the service of his country and nation, and who had recently retired due to health reasons, had turned his back on the mortal world and closed his eyes to life forever. He had embarked on a long journey, from which he would never return, never see his loved ones, never walk on earth, never sit in the garden and smoke his pipe again.

He would not taste the blessings of the world on his parched lips, nor would he be able to fulfill the duties of both mother and father to his children. Our uncle, the key to the East, the number one enemy of Soviet Russia, the cornerstone of national feelings, the symbol of patriotism, who gladly served the Turkish army while in uniform and the Turkish Security after taking off his uniform, now lies in his eternal sleep in his coffin under the dark earth.

His humility, noble character, and human feelings, being a child with children and an adult with adults, will never be erased from anyone's heart. The dark news plunged everyone in Tuzluca, from seven to seventy, into sorrow. We immediately gathered and rushed to Iğdır to perform our last duty to him. Yesterday, all of Iğdır was crying at his funeral. From its intellectuals to its villagers, handkerchiefs were in their eyes, lips were sealed, and they rushed to perform their last duty to this عزيز (beloved) deceased. The wailing people at the grave and the sobbing young people performing their last duties to him were our greatest consolation.

Uncle Bey! On the last day of your life, which you dedicated to the service of your country for many years, and under your coffin, the grateful people of Iğdır carried you to the path of eternity. Your memory will burn like a torch in our hearts. May your soul rest in peace and sleep soundly!

PAMUKOVA NEWSPAPER OWNER: MECİT HUN (FEBRUARY 7, 1955)

THANK YOU ADVERTISEMENT

We express our deep gratitude and appreciation to the esteemed people of Iğdır and the heroic members of the army, as well as the officials, police, and mufti's office, who personally participated in the passing of our father and very precious family elder, Mr. Hüsnü Bingöl, and shared our pain by coming to our home many times, and especially by showing their appreciation through telegrams, phone calls, and newspapers.

His daughters Şükran, Müjgan, and his cousin Ziya Güner

PAMUKOVA NEWSPAPER OWNER: MECİT HUN (MARCH 16, 1955)

AFTER HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL (WRITTEN BY: RAMİZ ÖZER)

The man who spent his life for his homeland!

The man who bound his heart to the nation!

The man who wounded us with his pain!

May the tongues that say he "died" weep!

Our benefactor, you faded this morning

Tears in our eyes, sighs in our hearts

You made Iğdır weep, we cry alas, alas

May the roads your coffin passed weep

You bared your chest to the enemy for your homeland

You gave your love to the country, to the nation

You reached paradise in the presence of God

May spring mourn and roses weep!

This mourning is a great sorrow for our nation

You left our hands, our crown jewel

May Şükran, our sister Müjgan, be strong

May mountains, stones, seas, floods weep

Aras also mourns, flowing sadly

The greatest mourning burns every heart

It's not in our hands, eyes look with longing

May springs, fountains, even lakes weep!

Ağrı is shrouded in black clouds

Its heart also bleeds, of course

A yellow rose must be planted in its heart

May the winds that kiss this grave weep

Moist eyes look at each other

All the people flock to the funeral

A flag suits his coffin beautifully

May friends, relatives, even strangers weep

Poet, make the saz cry.... We must weep

We must wear black, not red

We must brand our hearts today

The plectrums are broken, may the strings weep!

PAMUKOVA NEWSPAPER OWNER: MECİT HUN (MARCH 25, 1955)

FOR HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL (WRITTEN BY: HAMİT DÖNMEZ)

My soul was kneaded with trouble and sorrow

Weep, my eyes, weep! It is a day of mourning!

Another wound was struck in my heart

Weep, my eyes, weep, it is a day of mourning!

This wound is deeper than all my wounds

Weep, wail, wrap yourself in black

Tear your chest, writhe and beat yourself

Weep, my eyes, weep, it is a day of mourning!

He wore out his body for his homeland

Cruel fate took him from us

The homeland lost a magnificent son

Weep, my eyes, weep, it is a day of mourning!

This is a great trouble, a great sorrow

This great deceased has a crown of light..

His purpose is another realm!.

Weep, my eyes, weep, it is a day of mourning...

A coffin wrapped in a flag appeared

Orphaned girls beat themselves like doves

The apocalypse has come, the apocalypse now!.

Weep, my eyes, weep, it is a day of mourning!

"Hüsnü Bingöl" he is a sublime personality

We lost him physically, this is a sorrow

He will live in our hearts, yes!

Weep, my eyes, weep, it is a day of mourning!

Decorate the roads, get out of the way!

The funeral is coming, bow in rows!

Weep for the greatest soldier, say!

Weep, my eyes, weep, it is a day of mourning!

EKİNCİ NEWSPAPER OWNER: CENGİZ EKİNCİ (FEBRUARY 7, 1955)

THE DEATH OF HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL (WRITTEN BY: Ekinci Editorial Family)

Former Iğdır National Security Inspector Hüsnü Bingöl closed his eyes to mortal life yesterday. As we learned late with deep sorrow, Hüsnü Bingöl, who served his country for a long life from the years of the National Struggle until his last breath, closed his eyes to mortal life in Iğdır yesterday, plunging everyone who knew him, near or far, into great sorrow.

The deceased had been serving as the Iğdır National Security Inspector until recently and had retired last year. We wish him God's mercy and extend our condolences to everyone who knew him.

DİL NEWSPAPER OWNER: MECİT HUN (DECEMBER 2, 1952)

FOLK POETS I KNEW (WRITTEN BY: RAMİZ ÖZLER)

POET ABBAS (1873-1950)

Poet Abbas was born in 1873 in the village of Daşnik, Digor district of Kars. His father's name was Nazar. He started writing poetry at the age of 14. He was illiterate but spoke Arabic and Persian. His memory was very strong. He would not forget the poems he wrote in his youth even in his old age. Poet Abbas played the saz well in his youth. In recent times, he had stopped playing the saz and made a living by reciting poetry at village weddings. He traveled extensively and visited Turkestan, Azerbaijan, the Caucasus, and Anatolia thoroughly. He passed away on March 23, 1950, at the age of 77. He spent his last 12 years in Iğdır. I met the deceased in a coffeehouse in 1944. Although he claimed to be connected to Aşşık Şenlik of Çıldır, the poet's true value lies in his good style.

Citizens, we have no fear from anyone,

We have a sultan like Kemal Pasha,

In the security of Iğdır district,

We have a lion like Hüsnü (Bingöl) Efendi.

PART 4

EXCERPTS FROM HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL'S LIFE IN IĞDIR

AZİZ GÜNEY NARRATES:

"In the 1940s, one of the daily pleasures of our Azerbaijani compatriots was sitting in coffeehouses and listening to Baku radio. However, Hüsnü Bingöl had banned Azerbaijani music. There was a coffeehouse owner named Tahir in Bitlisli Mehmet Kakioğlu's shop. He would place a huge battery-powered or portable radio on the table and play Azerbaijani music loudly. Someone would keep an eye out to announce if Hüsnü Bingöl was coming:

"When 'Hüsnü Bey is coming!' was said, the radio would be quickly hidden, and everyone would sip their tea as if nothing had happened."

Hüsnü Bingöl had retired from the army with the rank of Major. He was the regional chief of the National Intelligence Organization. He was considered a child of the region. His father was Terekeme, and his mother was related to the Kurdish-origin Sheikhs in Iğdır.

Hüsnü Bey's presence in the city center was perceived with fear. When he appeared on the streets, people would scatter in fear. He would slowly stride down the street in knickerbockers and knee-high boots. He never left his dog's side. With a whip in one hand and a cigarette in his mouth, Hüsnü Bey was Iğdır's nightmare.

He would talk and converse with people, albeit in a limited way. Whenever he wanted to discuss an important matter with someone, he would summon them to his office. Whatever the reason, the summoned man would ask for his family's blessing, just in case, before appearing before Hüsnü Bey.

I had many encounters with Hüsnü Bey. However, there was one incident that made me experience the fears I mentioned above:

It must have been the early 1950s. I was running a cinema. In those years, a group of Kurdish intellectuals published a magazine in Istanbul and sent me a limited number of copies. I would either sell them or distribute them for free. This news reached Hüsnü Bey.

That day, as usual, I was sitting at a table in the municipal park in front of the cinema, sipping my coffee with my newspaper in hand. As Hüsnü Bey passed by, he said in a firm and determined voice, "Nephew! Come at 3 o'clock!"

Fear gripped me. Why did he call me? Before going, I told my acquaintances, "Be careful. Hüsnü Bey called me! I'm going there!"

I went to his office. As soon as I sat down, he began to advise me: "I'm hearing bad things about you. Don't let it happen again. I love your family and your father, but I see you're going down the wrong path!"

"Uncle Bey, what did I do?"

"What else could it be? You're distributing an inappropriate magazine!"

It was impossible for me to deny it.

"Tell them not to send any more! And you are banned from Iğdır for a month. Don't let me see you!"

Such a punishment for friends. I said to myself, 'May God be pleased with him!' The next day, off to Istanbul!

MUSTAFA ŞİMŞEK NARRATES:

"Hüsnü Bingöl retired with the rank of Major and was appointed as a MIT inspector. He had very broad powers and remained in this position for many years. Whether it is beneficial or harmful for an officer organizing the state's intelligence to remain in the same position for so many years is a separate matter of debate, but Hüsnü Bey was an important figure and an impressive person. He wore a military uniform. He was tall, moustached, and quite handsome. He would sit among the people in the coffeehouse and chat. He had very good communication with the public. People would address him as 'Uncle Bey' and show him respect and closeness. He would personally pay for the teas that came. No one from the public would ever attempt to pay for tea. Because everyone knew that tea would not be paid for at Hüsnü Bey's table.

I was an elementary school student. 23 people had been arrested throughout Iğdır. One of them was an extremely handsome monopoly officer. As I was going to school with my notebooks in hand, I saw this young man being led in one direction with his arms tied behind his back. When I entered the grocery store, I had the chance to see his face up close: his beard had grown during his detention, his black eyes were sparkling, and he was silently looking around. They put him on a bus and took him to Erzurum.

According to what was told, 23 people, including this young man, were executed by firing squad in Erzurum.

I was a senior in high school at İzmir İnönü High School. Among my friends were excited, idealistic young people. Most of them were children of wealthy families. They closely followed Turkish politics and the press. I found myself among them.

During the summer vacation, as I was preparing to return to Iğdır, my friends insisted that I write an article about "the situation in the East" and send it to them. A magazine called "9 Eylül" was published in İzmir. Lebit Yurtoğlu – who later became a Minister – who was closely acquainted with my high school friend group, was responsible for the editorial office of the magazine.

Upon my return from Iğdır, I wrote down my observations and sent an article I had prepared under the title "Iğdır Letter" to the magazine. Something unexpected had happened. The magazine, except for a few sentences, published my article as it was on the middle page in large print under the title "Iğdır Letter." Lebit Bey had sent me 22 copies of this issue, with a note saying, "Keep one copy for yourself, donate the rest to the Community Center."

When I opened the magazine, I must confess, I was proud of myself: "What a person I am!" I had looked at my article in amazement. The magazine had reached Hüsnü Bingöl. He had read my article and liked it very much. He had investigated and inquired, called the village headman Mehmet Sönmez, and obtained information about me. When the headman told him that I was a senior in high school in İzmir, Hüsnü Bingöl conveyed to the headman that he wanted to meet me.

The headman took me with him, and we appeared before Hüsnü Bey. It was a summer day. Hüsnü Bey was sitting in the municipal coffeehouse, surrounded by eight or ten people, as was his custom. The headman said, "Sir, Mustafa Şimşek is this young man." Hüsnü Bey stood up. With a voice mixed with admiration and affection:

"Welcome, my son!" he said. We took our places at the table, and teas were placed before us.

Hüsnü Bey questioned me: "Did you write this article, my son?"

"Yes, Uncle Bey! I wrote it!"

"Gentlemen! This is the kind of young man I want. Everyone should raise their children like this. Well done, my son!"

I was very proud. I said goodbye to Hüsnü Bey and left. From that day on, wherever we met, we would greet each other.

Hüsnü Bey was responsible for managing espionage and counter-espionage. For this purpose, he had personnel he used. I knew some of them too.

Hüsnü Bey would train them in certain skills, for example, infiltration tactics such as how to cross the wire fence after crossing the Aras River, how to cross the trace field, and how to use "wolf track punches" while doing so.

One of these agents was caught and sentenced to 20 years in prison. The agents were tasked with delivering written orders to contacts on the other side and conveying the reports they received from them to Hüsnü Bey. Since Hüsnü Bey continued this duty for many years, the Russians were surprised. They reportedly said, "Doesn't your Hüsnü Bey ever change?"

During the years Hüsnü Bey served, the Iğdır region had a special situation. Most of the immigrants who came here were viewed with suspicion by the state because they were involved in the communist regime in one way or another. It must be admitted that some of them were indeed spying for Russia. Hüsnü Bey would summon these suspicious people, advise them, and give them a chance:

"This path is not good for you and your family. You will leave it as soon as possible!"

If the inclination to espionage continued despite the warning, Hüsnü Bey would apprehend them. I should remind you that Hüsnü Bey's most important characteristic was his warning and admonition before punishment.

Various rumors circulated among the public about Hüsnü Bey's character and powers. According to what we heard, Hüsnü Bey had the authority to execute people by firing squad. However, I don't know how true this news is.

The public both feared and loved Hüsnü Bey. Perhaps because of this mixed feeling of awe and affection, the public perceived Hüsnü Bey differently than he was.

Perhaps not a single person was executed by firing squad on Hüsnü Bey's orders. The public was wary of Hüsnü Bey. When they said, "Hüsnü Bey is calling you," even the bravest person would turn pale, their voice would tremble, and they would say, "Oh my goodness! Why is Hüsnü Bey calling me?"

When the headman said, "Mustafa, Hüsnü Bey wants to talk to you," everyone in the village coffeehouse would whisper to each other, "Who knows what mischief he's been up to in Erzurum or İzmir that Hüsnü Bey is calling him. Oh, poor young man!"

Since my feelings of indifference and adventurousness as a young man prevailed, I couldn't quite understand the villagers' fear. I appeared before Hüsnü Bey calmly and confidently."

HALİFE İBRAHİM GÜNEŞ NARRATES:

"Hüsnü Bey was an upright man. After I opened the Hoşhaber madrasah, some denunciations were made against me. Hüsnü Bey summoned me to him. Even while doing this, he behaved very politely:

"Hocam, I would have liked to come there, but this situation would not be well-received by the public. I would be very pleased if you would encourage me to come to you," he had sent word.

Even in our first meeting, we left each other satisfied. Whenever the district governor and gendarmerie commanders went to Hüsnü Bey and drew his attention by saying, "A hoca has opened a madrasah in Hoşhaber village!" he would smile and reply:

"Gentlemen, I wish all hocas were like Hoca İbrahim!"

HACI ALİ KARASU NARRATES:

"The amount of smuggled goods entering Turkey from Iran was increasing. I wanted to draw the attention of the gendarmerie commander to this issue.

Hüsnü Bingöl and the Gendarmerie Commander were sitting in the coffeehouse, drinking tea. I approached them and, addressing the Gendarmerie Commander personally, said:

"Don't turn a blind eye to people bringing in smuggled goods!" Hüsnü Bey interrupted my speech: "Don't speak like that again without my permission!"

FATMA KAYA NARRATES:

Eşref Kaya, the youngest child of a Terekeme family, was born in 1340 (1924) in the village of Işıklı, in the Qazakh region near Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan. Three brothers were orphaned when their father died young and grew up under the care of their uncles. His elder brother fell in love with the daughter of an Armenian priest and followed her to Iran, where he was shot and killed by the girl's relatives.

After high school, Eşref Kaya enrolled in the Faculty of Agriculture in Baku and attended school for about a year. During the rise of Stalin's terror, the two brothers decided to flee to Turkey. They went to a village near the Ardahan provincial border and waited for a suitable time to escape. There was a mountain in front of them. Before the dangerous crossing, Eşref suggested to his elder brother, "You go on this side of the mountain, and I'll go on the other side. If one of us gets caught, at least the other will have a chance to escape and save himself!" The two brothers hugged and said goodbye.

As Eşref followed the mountainside towards the border, he heard gunshots in the distance. Assuming his brother had probably been killed, he continued on his way. He was also shot at the point where he crossed the border, and one of the bullets grazed his leg. Despite his injury, Eşref managed to cross the border.

He stayed in Kars for a few months with distant relatives and friends, receiving treatment; he then went to Eleşkirt and found small jobs there. Eşref, believing his remaining brother to be dead, did not think of tracing him. However, border security had caught his brother and sent him back to Azerbaijan. Unfortunately, I learned that his brother was alive by chance long after Eşref's death and got to know his family through correspondence.

Hüsnü Bingöl, somehow met Eşref, who was of Terekeme origin like himself, and arranged for him to come to Iğdır and work in the Security Organization. Eşref, with Hüsnü Bey's special interest and protection, quickly made friends in Iğdır, a place he had never known, and thus started a new life. He simultaneously managed the Cotton Sales Cooperative and entered politics, serving as a member of the provincial general assembly and the municipal council. Eşref emerged as one of the respected and admired notables of the town.

Eşref met and recognized me at the wedding ceremony of his friend İsmail Karadağ. (I was a young girl, 13-14 years old.) Eşref first sent a friend named Kerim Ağa, who worked at the Agricultural Sales Cooperative, as an intermediary. My family, in accordance with traditions, looked favorably upon the marriage without consulting my opinion, so one day Hüsnü Bey came to ask for my hand. (Eşref was around 28-30 years old at that time.)

A few years after their marriage (1945), Eşref moved our house to Kars and went into the hotel business with his relatives. He continued this duty without interruption until 1950.

Hüsnü Bingöl's job was difficult. Iğdır was teeming with all kinds of spies. Hüsnü Bey was not idle either; he worked day and night to catch and punish spies. Once, two relatives of a woman named Heriz – who later married Fazıl Baykal – had fled from Azerbaijan. Hüsnü Bey wanted to train them as agents in the counter-espionage network and send them back across the Aras. He subjected them to special training. On the eve of the day they were to go on duty,

When he saw them coming home with shopping bags, Hüsnü Bey asked curiously, "Where did you get these?"

"From Adil Zeki's hut in the Municipal Garden."

This answer stuck in Hüsnü Bey's mind. The two agents were caught crossing the border and executed by firing squad. Hüsnü Bey, considering the possibility of an informant behind this, closely monitored Adil Zeki. Finally, when Hüsnü Bey got his hands on a picture of Adil Zeki sitting at a table in Russia with a plate of apples in front of him, he accepted this as evidence and sent Adil Zeki to Erzurum on charges of espionage. According to what was told, Adil Zeki had gained the trust of the two agents, obtained information from them about when and where they would cross the border, and conveyed it to the other side. Adil Zeki, who had previously worked as a teacher, was executed by firing squad.

In those years, we children would listen in fear to the horrific news of killings and murders circulating. Once, while playing with friends, we even came across a buried body with its hand sticking out near an old Russian-era hut used as a city slaughterhouse. According to rumor, a Russian spy had been executed by firing squad and buried.

MAHMUT KOTAN NARRATES:

(Note: Mahmut Kotan is the grandson of Sheikh Abdülkadir Kotan, one of the leaders of the Ağrı Uprising. After the uprising, the tribe settled in Iran. In later years, the tribe returned to Turkey. Mahmut Kotan served as the Mayor of Doğubayazıt for a period. Hüsnü Bingöl invited and even encouraged the tribes who participated in the Ağrı Uprising and then sought refuge in Iran to return. His aim was to mend grievances and enmities, and to rekindle the love of the state and a sense of trust in the hearts of the tribes.)

"Since I was born in 1942, I remember very well the difficulties our family faced when they came to Turkey (June 1946). Hüsnü Bingöl temporarily settled us in Hasanhan village, which was part of Iğdır. The village was in ruins and abandoned. Since most of the 90 families who came with us were Iranian citizens, Hüsnü Bingöl, disregarding the fact that my father and close relatives were registered in the Turkish Republic's population records, accepted everyone as refugees and subjected them to forced settlement in Ferahiye district of Kayseri.

We resided in Ferahiye for two years. My father, by involving his political friends and with tireless effort, finally managed to register us as Turkish citizens. In 1948, we were allowed to return to Örtülü village based on a temporary decision."

SÜLEYMAN KUTLAY NARRATES:

Hüsnü Bingöl was the MIT Eastern Anatolia regional chief. Although the MIT regional directorate was in Erzurum, Hüsnü Bey resided in Iğdır. Everyone feared Hüsnü Bey, but not God. My personal opinion and assessment is that Hüsnü Bey was very dedicated to his duty.

I don't believe he wronged anyone. Once, I had the chance to speak with him face-to-face. He had come to Doğubayazıt while I was the Musun Sub-district Director. The Ahıska Turks who had been settled in Musun and its vicinity were complaining about the pressure and threats from the Kurds.

Hüsnü Bey said calmly:

"Director, protect the immigrants!"

"Of course, sir!"

Iğdır had geopolitical importance. Soviet soldiers were stationed on the opposite bank of the Aras. Hüsnü Bey's duty was very important in this region where crossings and espionage activities were sensitive.

NİZAMETTİN ONK NARRATES:

Sadık Artukmaç, who later became a Senator for Yozgat and was once the District Governor of Iğdır, includes the following information about Hüsnü Bingöl in his biography titled "A Life Story" while recounting his years in Iğdır:

"Although Hüsnü Bingöl was retired, he would occasionally wear his Major's uniform and walk around like that. Not content with this, he would take police and gendarmerie teams with him and organize operations without my permission. When my warnings were ineffective, I informed the Governor of Kars, Hilmi Bey, about the situation. The Governor told me, 'You knocked on the wrong door, you shouldn't have confronted Hüsnü Bey.' Indeed, my exile came shortly after."

ORHAN PARLAR NARRATES:

We had three huge Marconi brand battery-powered radios. One of them broadcast publicly in a coffeehouse – which later became a clothing store. Villagers who didn't know what a radio was would say to each other, "Hey, this Gulam is clever! He puts people inside the box and makes them talk."

Hüsnü Bey would also sit in this coffeehouse every day and listen carefully to the world news broadcast on the radio.

MEHMET ALİ SAİTA NARRATES:

During my years working at the Iğdır Chamber of Commerce, Hüsnü Bingöl would stop by the office and chat with Resul Taner in Russian for a long time. Since they spoke Russian even when no one else was in the room, I assume they both missed the language and resorted to this method to avoid losing their fluency in Russian.

I last saw Hüsnü Bingöl in the Mescitli sub-district near Hınıs during my years working for the Highways Department. While inspecting the highway between Erzurum and Hınıs as a construction site chief, my path led me to the Mescitli sub-district. Hüsnü Bingöl was sitting in front of a coffeehouse, surrounded by a crowd of people. I went up to him and introduced myself; I respectfully kissed his hand and sat at his table. He was very pleased with my behavior. After drinking tea, I said goodbye and left (1952).

İSA ŞEN NARRATES:

When a line coming from Suveren village, passing through the Karaburun region and over Sultanabat, left Erhacı village within the forbidden zone, my father and relatives settled in Iğdır center.

In the early 1940s, when enmity arose between two Azerbaijani clans in Pulur village due to murder, one of the parties applied to the state, saying, "We want to return to our ancestral village Erhacı." In this way, about 40 Azerbaijani families came to Erhacı. In those years, I was serving my military duty in Ordu province (1942-46).

My father had a very good friendship with MIT Chief Hüsnü Bingöl. With Hüsnü Bey's intervention and help, our tribe settled in the meadows of Erhacı. In 1947, under Hüsnü Bey's protection, despite the forbidden zone, we claimed our homes in Erhacı. When the forbidden zone was lifted in 1950, the Azerbaijanis either returned to Pulur village or settled in Iğdır center. Today, only the tribal population lives in Yukarı and Aşağı Erhacı villages. Sultanabat, once a village of Azerbaijani Beys, is now in ruins and abandoned.

Although Yukarı Erhacı is popularly known as "Azeri Erhacı," this refers more to the Azerbaijani presence during Russian rule. The majority in both Erhacı villages belong to the Şengoi tribe. However, Kızılbaşoğlu, Sakan, and a few other tribal families are also among us. I served as the headman of Yukarı Erhacı village between 1954 and 1977. One neighborhood of Yukarı Erhacı has 200 households, and the other has 90.

Hüsnü Bey had given my father a letter of recommendation. As far as I remember, the letter contained a sentence similar to this:

"I, Hüsnü Bingöl, hereby confirm the sacrifices and good conduct of Kerem Şen from Erhacı village to the state with this letter."

The letter had his special stamp and signature at the bottom. Unfortunately, this letter was lost among my documents.

The three people Hüsnü Bey loved most and never parted with were: My father Hacı Kerem Şen, Hacı Abdulhadi Kuş, and Hacı Abdullah Armağan.

CİHANGİR TURAN NARRATES:

Hüsnü Bey was Karapapak on his father's side and related to Kurdish-origin Sheikhs on his mother's side. When his family came as immigrants from Russia, they settled in Poxan (Sarıdoğan) village, which was part of Ağrı. Some of his relatives also went to Tutak district.

After retiring from the army, he came to Iğdır as responsible for intelligence affairs. He was loyal to his relatives. He had assigned most of the Karapapaks from Tutak to various levels of National Security.

He had three important close friends in Iğdır: Eşref Kaya of Terekeme origin, Eşref Başaran, and my father-in-law Paşa from Bayburt. Besides them, he had loyal and trusted personnel under him. Among them were Timur Demirci, Hacı Abdullah, and Hacı Abdulhadi.

Hüsnü Bey meant the state. He was handsome and tall. He had long boots. His walk and gaze instilled fear in people. He frequented two places in the city: He would either sit in front of my father-in-law's shop or go to the casino owned by Fazıl Baykal. This casino had Iğdır's only radio. Hüsnü Bey would sit by this radio and sometimes listen to broadcasts in a language we didn't understand. For us, radio simply meant a device that only Hüsnü Bey understood.

Hüsnü Bey had established a special system of pressure and control, especially over immigrant families.

An incident I witnessed from afar is still vivid in my memory.

We had a teacher named Zekeriya. His beard resembled Yahya Kemal's, so his nickname among students was "Yahya Kemal." One day, I saw this man coming out of the private prison adjacent to Hüsnü Bey's house. Various rumors circulated among the public about the fate of Zekeriya teacher.

AYDIN URAL NARRATES:

MIT Inspector Hüsnü Bingöl was a good friend of my father's. They would often meet and chat.

Listening to radio stations broadcasting from Russia had been banned in Iğdır for many years. The punishment for those who violated this broadcast ban was quite severe. But my father didn't care about this punishment; he would sit by his radio at home and listen curiously to news about the Caucasus, where he spent his childhood and youth, by turning the tuning knob from one station to another.

One day, my father and Hüsnü Bingöl were sitting in the coffeehouse, chatting about new developments in the world. At one point in the conversation, my father gave a detailed account of developments in Russia and the Caucasus.

Hüsnü Bey, surprised, turned to my father and asked, "Ali Bey, where did you hear this news?" My father, without hesitation, said, "From my radio at home." Hüsnü Bey softened at my father's frankness, and they continued their conversation from where they left off.

ATAMAN YALÇIN NARRATES:

My father would never speak ill of his political rivals. As his son, throughout my entire life, the only words my father ever uttered behind a politician's back were due to his anger towards Fazıl Baykal.

It was true that my father had been in a rivalry with Osman Ataman for the mayorship in the 1930s and 1940s. However, my father would absolutely never say a single word against Osman Ataman in a home environment. In fact, at one point, they had taken the mayorship from my father and given it to Osman Ataman. His uncle Ali Ataman's respectability in the eyes of the state and the special attention he received from Hüsnü Bingöl as a result, caused the "Ataman" family to appear in a more neutral position both among the public and the state. Despite this unfair situation, my father neither complained nor spoke against it.

SONA YEŞİLYURT BALAMİR NARRATES:

Since Hüsnü Bingöl was related to the Sheikh family in Iğdır on his mother's side, he had a very good relationship with my husband. When Hüsnü Bingöl walked, he never took his eyes off the people around him. His aim was to understand who was a spy and who wasn't.

Maksut, the son of Yaycılı Mehmet Ali Bey, had a Russian-like appearance. Once, Hüsnü Bingöl approached Maksut with a suspicious attitude and questioned him, "I don't trust you at all, you look like a Russian!" Maksut's face turned pale with fear.

Hüsnü Bingöl would give people grades based on their walking styles. He was most impressed by Mir Hüseyin Yeşilyurt's cunning walk and would envy him, saying to his friends, "My goodness, how flamboyant this man is!"

HACI KADİR ERTAN NARRATES:

(Hacı Kadir Ertan, born in 1927, is the son of Emine Hanım, popularly known as 'Arap Emine'. His father, originally from Iraq, served as a Captain in the Ottoman army. In the Republican years, he settled in Iğdır and worked in the Monopoly (Tekel) department.)

"In those years, wholesale merchants could only buy cigarettes from Tekel. The big merchants of Iğdır had bought a lot of goods on credit from my father. One day, inspectors came to examine the ledgers. My father sent his brother Faik to the merchants:

"Pay your debts quickly, or I will be in a difficult situation."

However, when no one claimed their debt, the inspectors drew up a report on the situation and took my father to court. My father, unable to bear such a situation, locked the door on the day of the court and committed suicide.

(From this day on, Hüsnü Bingöl took the family under his protection. He dealt with all their problems. He prevented them from feeling like strangers.)

One of the regulars at Feyzullah Zengi's coffeehouse was MIT Inspector Hüsnü Bingöl. Hüsnü Bey would protect me and literally act as a father to me.

One day, General Nuri Peköz from the Doğubayazıt Division and his friends were sitting in the coffeehouse, chatting with Hüsnü Bey. Hüsnü Bey's affection and interest in me must have caught Nuri Peköz's attention, because he asked, "Who is this child?"

Hüsnü Bey put one hand on my shoulder and said, "This child is the son of an Iraqi Captain from the Ottoman era." Thereupon, the General and his friends put their hands in their pockets and gave me a generous amount of pocket money.

For a year, thanks to the generous tips of these officers who came to the coffeehouse every Sunday, I had saved quite a bit of money.

Hüsnü Bingöl was endowed with great powers. If he had wanted, he could have squandered state property. When this great patriot died, his underwear was made of American cloth. This remained in my mind not as a disgrace to him, but as an expression of how honest a person he was, far from bribery, money, and wealth.

PART 5

FAREWELL TO HÜSNÜ BİNGÖL (MÜCAHİT ÖZDEN HUN)

Dear readers! We have come to the end of the Hüsnü Bingöl article series. We have tried to examine and understand a personality who left his mark on the destiny of Iğdır, the region, and even Turkey for approximately a quarter of a century, in all his aspects (black, white, gray). While reading about the injustices he committed, we may have been angry with him, perhaps even hated him. The accumulated pain, sorrow, and desire for revenge within us flared up again, and our hearts were once again filled with fear. In the same way, we also witnessed his generous, open-handed, and just personality. He always carried a sense of loyalty in his heart. He did not betray his friendships. He performed his duty with faith and self-sacrifice. No one felt the desire to protect his state as strongly in his heart as he did. His misfortune was to serve in a difficult period. During the years of World War II, after the resignation of Foreign Minister Numan Menemencioğlu, he was the second statesman after İnönü who remained unshakably committed to the principles of Misak-ı Milli.

My personal opinion is that if it weren't for Hüsnü Bingöl, Turkey would have embarked on an adventure with an uncertain outcome during World War II. If Turkey, which paid a heavy price for Enver Pasha's misguided and imaginary policies in World War I, had opened a new front in the Caucasus and entered the war alongside Germany, a second defeat would have been inevitable. All that remained of a vast empire was our country, which we now have to protect like the apple of our eye. I know that our country has many ethnic, religious, sectarian, class, gender discrimination, and other problems... But Turkey has the ability and determination to overcome all these problems. Difficulties exist to be solved and overcome.

Hüsnü Bingöl lies in the soil of Iğdır today. Our values, who suffered from his injustices, also rest in their eternal resting places in the same soil. Let us not forget that thanks to Hüsnü Bingöl's competence, effort, and extraordinary sense of duty, our Iğdır and our country were protected from a great disaster. I believe that the noble souls of my grandfather Ahmed Şemo, my father Mecit Hun, and all our other values who suffered from Hüsnü Bingöl's injustice will welcome our embracing Hüsnü Bingöl with great understanding, forgiveness, and tolerance. Now it is the turn of our state, local governments, non-governmental organizations, and the will of my esteemed people. It is necessary to take steps to keep the name of the late Hüsnü Bingöl alive and to organize events that will keep his memory vibrant. This is what befits our Iğdır.

THE END