Do Societies Also "Dream"?

Dear Readers,

According to Freud, dreams are the symbolic manifestation of repressed desires. What a person cannot say, accept, or represses during the day, they experience at night through dream images. Dreams are therefore not a direct expression, but a masked one.

But do societies also dream?

Of course, societies do not sleep like humans and do not dream in a biological sense. However, societies also remember, forget, repress, sublimate, fear, and long for things. For this reason, the phrase "societies' dreams" is extremely meaningful as a metaphor. Because societies also express their desires, traumas, and fears through symbols.

If a person's dream reveals their repressed inner world, then a society's flags, anthems, heroes, commemoration days, laments, and nightmares can also reveal that society's repressed memory.

Turkey is a very rich example in this regard. The founding narrative of the Republic, the War of Independence, Çanakkale, Sakarya, Dumlupınar, November 10th, Anıtkabir, the flag, the İstiklâl March, and the concept of "homeland" are not merely historical events or official symbols. They are also the common dream images of society. In these images, there is both a desire for salvation and a strong memory born of the fear of annihilation.

One of the most powerful images in Turkey's societal dream is "salvation." The collapse of the Empire, wars, occupations, poverty, and the fear of fragmentation gain new meaning in the founding story of the Republic. This story does not just recount the past; it also gives society the feeling of "we were destroyed, but we were reborn." For this reason, the War of Independence is not just a military struggle in Turkey's collective memory, but an existential dream.

Another powerful societal dream is the desire for a "great past." Ottoman nostalgia, conquest narratives, the conquest of Istanbul, Janissary music, historical TV series, and imperial imagery demonstrate the current society's desire to return to a past sense of power. Here, there is not only a love of history; there is also a desire to compensate for today's shortcomings with the glory of the past.

Societies have nightmares as well as dreams. One of Turkey's collective nightmares is the fear of fragmentation. It is no coincidence that the word "Sevr" still carries a strong connotation. Sevr is not just the name of a treaty, but a symbol in society's subconscious of the fear of "re-division, weakening, encirclement." This fear occasionally reappears on the scene with discourses of external enemies, internal enemies, betrayal, and survival.

Coups, the memory of September 12th, unsolved murders, migrations, earthquakes, economic crises, and historical pains that are difficult to discuss are other dream realms of Turkey. These events are sometimes openly discussed, sometimes passed over in silence, and sometimes continue to live on in folk songs, laments, films, and family stories. Because repressed societal pains do not completely disappear; they return in altered forms.

In this respect, folk songs and laments are very important in Turkey. In many societies, official history tells what should be remembered; folk songs, however, show what cannot be forgotten. Migration songs, soldier laments, expatriate songs, earthquake laments, and stories of poverty are the closest language to society's dream. Because here, history transforms into emotion.

Hero figures also hold a special place in the dreams of societies. Mustafa Kemal Atatürk is not only a historical leader but also the founding dream image of the Republic. He represents the idea of reason, will, and re-establishment against society's feelings of disintegration, annihilation, and helplessness. For this reason, the devotion to Atatürk is not only political but also a deep symbolic attachment.

Similarly, the concept of martyrdom is very strong in Turkey's collective memory. The figure of the martyr removes death from meaninglessness and places it in a field of social meaning. Thus, individual loss becomes part of collective memory. Society carries its own pain through a sacred symbol.

From this, we can conclude: Societies' dreams are not seen at night; they are seen in squares, monuments, anthems, flags, ceremonies, TV series, folk songs, and silences.

To understand Turkey, it is not enough to look only at the constitution, elections, parties, and economic data. One must also look at Turkey's dreams. Which past do we long for? Which pain can we not forget? Which fear do we constantly reproduce? Behind which hero do we want to complete our own deficiencies? With which enemy image do we explain our own anxieties?

Freud sought repressed desire in the individual's dream. To understand societies, one must also look at their symbols, fears, and recurring narratives. Because the true soul of a society is hidden not only in what it says, but in what it repeatedly remembers, glorifies, represses, and in its nightmares.

Perhaps every society has two histories: one is official history, the other is dream history. Official history tells what happened; dream history tells what society cannot forget, what it fears, and what it still awaits.

Sincerely, Mücahit Özden Hun